#kids if you double major just be sure to know its WORK
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IM ALMOST DONE WITH FINALS ILL HAVE MORE ART SOON
#kids if you double major just be sure to know its WORK#also having a job#and also having assignments that require days#and also trying to secure research opportunities that may fall through#aaaAAAAAAA#i still draw but it hasnt been anything major#ill post soon#i have had asks in my inbox that have just sat there cause i wanted to draw some like#A#i apologize#saga shush#life update
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I wonder if you have any headcanons or dribbles of Ultron with a pregnant reader?
👀 the way I'd be pregnant for this man (I'm terrified of pregnancy and childbirth)
Warning: mentions of pregnancy (?) Child labor
He is the absolute best at everything.....i mean,it's Ultron
He makes sure he does research in every single area for pregnancy; he needs to make sure he stays informed with everything
Handles you gently and carefully; he is at your side whenever you need him
Either will be understanding of your pregnancy cravings and bring them to you, OR makes a healthier alternative option for you. No in-between
"I want chocolate...."
"Chocolate isn't good for you or the baby"
"I want chocolate."
"Okay, I'll get you chocolate" He gets everything in chocolate; chocolate ice cream, chocolate milkshake, chocolate anything for the entire day until you want another craving
Makes sure all the sharp edges in the house/apartment are child proofed, he doesn't want you bumping into them and getting into an accident
Carries you around with no complaint or struggles; heck, you wouldn't even need to get out of bed with him around
Will be putting on Mozart or Beethoven for the fetus to listen to
"It's good for them, they'll be smart like you."
You don't have to worry about any chores: the house? Clean within a blink and no traces of dust. The garbage? Taken care of, you don't even need to ask
Makes sure you're okay and comfortable; whenever you express hints of pain, he'll definitely panic and get into doctor-mode
"I have some great names picked out, if you haven't thought of any yet."
"Babe, I'm only on my second term."
"Can't be too prepared."
Cute dates with him like movie nights but the couch is just as comfortable as a bed; he has soft blankets and pillow all around
When it comes to later in the pregnancy, he's super anxious; he makes double the portion size that he would usually make
Will accompany you to the bathroom in the middle of the night, it doesn't matter, he will start fussing if you don't wake him up
"I don't want to bother you...."
"Nonsense. Bother me, your safety is not a hindrance for me. My system shut down is more insignificant"
"Babe, please."
Obviously he won't go inside and respects your privacy, but he will stand outside the door just in case
If you have work and your boss is being an incompetent fool, I know for sure that Ultron would fight with him via email
Ultron would grumble, ".....pathetic, what kind of nincompoop wouldn't give maternity leave? I hope his business burns and he goes bankrupt....."
You'd snicker at his use of vocabulary
And then the time arrives,
"....Ultron....."
"Hm?"
"I think it's happening....."
Immediate panic; he obviously handles everything, he calls his sentries and all that is needed to start the procedure
He doesn't really trust human doctors, plus he wants to be there next to you for the moment. He would be the most attentive doctor/medical personnel - the procedure and labor would be a major success!
He would also treat you to whatever you wanted after. To him, the first priority is your well-being after something so energy inducing/exhausting, then the attention would go to the baby (of course, he would place the baby in your arms before giving you attention you need)
He would definitely take care of the child so you could get the rest you need and deserve
At first, he would be too terrified to handle the baby....even if he knows how and the proper care for it - he's terrified of the idea of rejection from the baby, he doesn't want it to be afraid of him
However, the baby did not care at all. It babbled incoherently and reached out for Ultron, placing its tiny hands on his cheek to feel the coolness of the metal
"......this baby, I would kill for it." Ultron smiled. I only had them for a day and a half, but if anything happened, I would kill everyone and then myself type
He's good with kids, to an extent
#ultron#ultron x reader#x reader#marvel#ultron/reader#marvel ultron#mcu ultron#mcu#headcanon#marvel headcanons#ultron headcanons#pregnancy trope#avengers age of ultron#ultron is hot
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Note to Self: You Are Allowed to Cry on the Floor
Linked Universe College Theater Fic
(2,060 words)
Summary:
In two weeks, Wind will be done with his first semester of college. In two weeks, Wind will finally be able to have a weekend for himself without rehearsals or studying. In two weeks, Wind will go home to see his best friend.
Wind thinks he will go insane before then.
-
OR: Sometimes the best advice comes from 5 tech majors relaxing on the studio floor.
(Ao3)
--
In two weeks, Wind will be done with his first semester of college. In two weeks, Wind will finally be able to have a weekend for himself without rehearsals or studying. In two weeks, Wind will go home to see his best friend.
Wind thinks he will go insane before then.
Christmas break could not come sooner. Actually, thinking about it now, time might be going slow out of spite. It knows he’s at his wit’s end and wants to see how far it can push him.
How fucking rude.
Every day feels like a new hill to climb. Time was out sick for a week, which meant nothing tech-wise was done because apparently, he holds all their common sense. Now that tech was working double time, Wind had fallen behind on learning his lines for the upcoming show, meaning he was staying up every night memorizing and because he was staying up every night, his grades were slipping.
In conclusion, he’d rather fight monsters in some fantasy world than be dual majoring theater right now; but that is impossible, so he might as well suck it up.
No one else seemed to have this problem. They all knew exactly what they were doing. Legend could memorize two shows at once, Warriors balanced school with a job, and Hyrule kept track of every show with no issues.
It wasn’t fair.
Wind felt moments away from drowning. Maybe that’s why they treated him like a kid. They knew he was just floundering around like a fish out of water.
He walked on autopilot, making his way to the studio theater. The tech meeting had started five minutes ago, and he wasn’t looking forward to being chewed out by Twilight. Wind was too proud to admit it, but the older man scared him. Not his personality, no. He was, as Malon put it, sweet as pie. But he looked as though he could snap someone in half if they were to get on his bad side.
Wind was standing in front of the door all too soon. He had to remind himself to take a deep breath. They aren’t a pack of wolves; they weren’t going to tear him apart limb for limb because he was late…well they might make him clean the prop loft, which would be equally bad.
Slowly, and with great bravery because Wind was so cool, he opened the door. What he did not expect to see was Twilight, Wild, two of the quadruplets, and Hyrule lying on the floor, staring up at LED lights as they softly shifted through the colors of the rainbow. Yet that’s what greeted him.
Was this the sign of a mental break? Were they hallucinating? Did only eating microwave noodles finally take its toll on them? Warriors always said it would, but he never believed him.
Twilight waved him over. He didn’t seem mad, which was a good sign.
“What’s going on? Is this some theater cult thing?” Wind was pretty sure it was.
From the middle of the group, Hyrule spoke up, “We’re de-stressing.”
Ah, that made more sense.
“Lay down.” Twilight patted the space next to him.
Wind would never pass up a lazy day, so he walked over and lowered himself to the floor. Laying back, his hands rested on his stomach as he watched the shifting colors above him. They moved slowly, going from one side of the theater to the other. It was nice. The other’s soft breathing was the only sound in the room.
His mind wandered again. He didn’t have time to relax. He still had to finish learning lines and catch up on work, and the set was only half finished. A tight feeling formed in his chest. Maybe he wasn’t good enough to be lying here with people who have it all together? The bright colors seemed to mock him now. How dare they be so happy and warm when he felt like his spark was slowly dying.
Before he could stop himself, he interrupted the calm atmosphere.
“Does it always feel like this?”
Wild let out a small laugh. “The ground? Well yeah, it’s solid concrete.” He knocked next to him for emphasis.
“No.” Wind took a shaky breath. “This overwhelming. Does college always feel like it’s one step ahead of you? Like no matter what, you’ll never be as good as everyone else.”
The room felt suffocatingly quiet.
Gilt curled in his gut. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His voice gave a pathetic crack.
He just had to open his big mouth, huh? Everyone was trying to de-stress, and here Wind was putting his problems out in the open. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. Was he really about to cry like a baby in front of the others?
Twilight turned over. He could feel the older boy’s eyes burning into the side of his head.
“Are you ok?”
There it was. The straw that broke the camel’s back. Wind’s breathing stuttered as the tears flowed. “I’m trying my best. I promise.” Fuck being strong. All he wanted to do was cry until he fell asleep. So much was bottled up in only a few weeks that he felt like he was overflowing.
Someone grabbed his hand, rubbing small circles into his knuckles. “Take a breath, kiddo.” It was Hyrule. He recognized that strange accent anywhere.
Through his wet lashes and blurring colors, he could make out Wild walking over to sit next to him. “Do you want us to get Wars?”
Wind shook his head, probably a little too fast. Absolutely, in no world whatsoever, would he want his brother to see him crying on the theater floor. He would rather drink straight salt water, thank you very much.
“Alright, alright, we won’t get him, but do you want to talk about it?”
Did he? Would they think he’s weak? If he told them, would they see him as some irresponsible teen who shouldn’t be there? They would never trust him with anything important, but on the other hand, what if they could help? They might know the secret to surviving college.
Wind decided to trust them. “I just-I’m so tired.” He glanced at everyone. Hyrule was beside him, holding his hand with Twilight slightly behind him, while Wild was on the other side. The other two hung back. They had never been the best at comforting people. “You all seem to have it together, and I have no clue what I’m doing. I feel like every time I make progress on schoolwork something happens and I’m even more behind than I was. How do you do it? How are you able to do so much?”
Unsurprisingly, it was Twilight who spoke first, “Well, for one, we absolutely don’t have it together. We’re a theater department. We just know how to fake it till we make it.”
Hyrule nodded. “I know it’s rough right now, but eventually you will fall into a rhythm, and it will be second nature, kinda like high school. At first, you have no clue what’s going on, but after a year, you become a pro.”
He’s got a point. High school felt huge, and there were so many expectations. Freshman year was spent trying to figure out who you are, and more importantly, how to navigate the halls. The following years, although still challenging, slowly became easier.
“Yeah,” That was one of the quadruplets, Wind could never tell them apart. “The first semester of college is rough. Everything is new and confusing. Hell, I almost failed all my classes, so you’re not alone.” Scratch that, this was totally Vio. Blue would eat rocks before failing a class.
“You’ve gone your whole semester without almost dying. That’s already better than I did.”
He couldn’t help the watery chuckle that escaped at the others’ incredulous looks towards Wild.
Blue pat the younger boy’s shoulder, “Moving on. Give yourself some credit, dual majoring isn’t easy. It’s almost twice the classes. I’m surprised you weren’t burned out sooner.”
Wind shrugged. “What can I say? I’m just built different.”
“When was the last time you took some time for yourself?”
Uh oh, now Twilight was starting to sound like his parents. Time and Malon were very insistent that their students put their health before classes.
“Um, it’s been a busy few weeks.” Twilight opened his mouth, but Wind cut him off. “I know it’s not healthy, but I need to be in good standing with my teachers. I’m not going to be that actor or technician who never shows up and I’m sure as hell not going to get into the habit of skipping classes."
“There is a difference between not showing up because you’re lazy, and not showing up because you need to help yourself.” Hyrule gave him a stern look. “If you need a break, take one before your body makes you. Remember when Legend did two shows at the same time? He ended up getting sick right after closing night because he hadn’t been taking care of himself.” Why did Wind have to get stuck in a room with the mother hens of the group, even if they were completely right?
Twilight must have a third eye for people who don’t want to take a break because he just smiled. “You know what? This has been a productive meeting, and we all have been working hard lately. I’m going to let us head home early.”
Laying back, Wild put his hands behind his head. “Sounds good to me!”
“Guys please.” Now Wind was getting annoyed. They were treating him like a kid again. This is exactly what he was scared of happening. “I’m not stupid. The set needs to be finished and we’re already behind. We can’t all leave because I’m a little tired.”
“It’s not just about you, I know most of us haven’t gotten more than 5 hours of sleep in the past week. We’ll just come in during the weekend and do some work. I bet we can even get Time to fire up the grill and make hotdogs. It can be a theater major workday.” Curse Twilight for making coming to the college on an off-day sound fun.
“Um, won’t that defeat the entire purpose of rest?” Never mind, Blue just had to ruin the idea with his common sense.
“Maybe, but at least we can get some good sleep today, and then everyone will help over the weekend instead of just the techs.” Vio is the best quadruplet hands down, for the moment at least. That opinion is subject to change whenever convenient.
The others continued planning while Wind looked back up. The lights never stopped their colorful display. He was tired and stressed, but somehow felt more relieved than he had in months. No one judged him. Instead, they wanted to help. Who knew all he had to do was ask? Not all the worry was gone, and they were definitely going to be more watchful for the next few months, but at least he wasn’t alone. If his friends could figure college out, then he could too. Maybe his spark would even burn a little brighter.
Twilight pulled him from his thoughts. “Do you need a ride home?”
“Nah. War’s class should be ending soon and he can take me.” At least he thinks so. He had no clue how long he was lying on the floor having a pity party.
“Alright. Do you want to keep lying here until then?” Hyrule had a small smile, like he already knew the answer to the question.
“Yeah. That would be nice.”
Together, the tech majors laid back, lost in their own worlds as colors danced around the dark room. They were all exhausted and a mess, but at least no one was alone in feeling that way. It was just a theater kid thing.
-
It didn’t take longer than half an hour for Warriors to show up and the brothers to load into the car. Wind almost fell asleep against the window as they drove.
Damn everyone for being right that he needed sleep or something like that.
Neither talked for a long while until Wars glanced over and cleared his throat. “So, the boys tell me you’ve been stressed lately.”
Those fucking snitches.
#linked theater au#linked theater au fics#plants fics#linked universe#lu wind#lu twilight#lu wild#lu hyrule#lu blue#lu vio
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Off The Record
Summary: A lot can happen in a week when you get sent to Louisville to spend some time with Jack Harlow in his home city and interview him for the magazine you work for.
A/N: Longest fic I’ve written and some of you may not like it but that’s fine I wrote this for me and whoever wants it. It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed writing.
With the rise of Jack Harlow almost every major magazine company wanted an interview with him, you knew that your magazine company would eventually get its turn to interview the enigma of a rapper that was Jack Harlow… you just didn’t expect it to be you.
You were on a red eye to Louisville, and although you had the choice to sleep you chose to open up your journal and write down some more questions you wanted to ask Jack. You’d be spending the week with him and didn't want any moment to get awkward, so you were collecting as many questions as you could ask him to fill in any silence.
What was the best part about growing up in Louisville? Boring.
If you could be any Peaky Blinders character who would you be? Random.
A song you wish you wrote? Okay.
Lil Secret or Side Piece? That could stir the pot.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seatbelts as we are now being prepared to land into Louisville Muhammad Ali International Airport where the local time is 7:32 AM.”
You slide your journal back into your backpack, making sure you had everything you needed before departing your plane in search of your luggage. Your phone hadn’t stopped buzzing as soon as you took it off airplane mode.
“Hello?” You answered.
“Y/N, you good? You got there safely?” Your boss asked, almost yelling over the phone, “Remember you’re meeting him tonight at 8 at the restaurant in the hotel at 8.”
You nodded, looking over all the passing luggage watching for yours. “I know, I know. Trust me Terry, I will be there and I will discuss his schedule to make sure we get everything.”
You knew how much was riding on this piece, it was one of your magazine’s biggest issues yet and god help you if you messed it up.
“Alright, please call me right away after the dinner to let me know how it goes you know---”
“Found you!” You yelped, grabbing a hold of your beat up light pink luggage that looked like it was on its last leg, “Sorry Terry, I just was looking for luggage. Look everything will be fine, you can’t hover over me, you know how I get it and it doesn’t help that you assigned me to this guy who seems to have the whole world either wrapped around his finger or at his neck!”
This is not what you wanted, you were doing so well but Terry always knew how to somehow work up your nerves and never in a good way.
“Alright… I’m sorry kid. Look, I know you got this, it's why I chose you so just call me at the end of the seven days. Good luck.” The phone goes silent and you know he’s hung up.
You sigh, you really need to get some sleep or else you are sure to scare Jack Harlow off at dinner and that’s what you did, drifting off into a slumber as soon as you reached the 21C Hotel.
You woke up to your alarm clock from your phone blaring, letting you know it was now five in the afternoon and that you had to get up. You didn’t have a difficult routine, you weren't someone that had a million steps in their self care routine but one thing you did need was clean hair.
After your shower and everything you had almost an hour and a half until dinner and you were already getting a bit hungry so you decided to go for a walk to not only let your hair dry but get something simple that wouldn’t fill you up but keep you satisfied until your dinner.
“Uhm, I’ll take a double chocolate fudge on a waffle cone,” You smiled at the man serving your ice cream.
“You liking Louisville so far lil lady?” He asked, making you laugh.
“I look that out of place?” You looked down at yourself, “I think I could pass for a local.”
He laughs along, nodding. “Your accent, you got a little Kardashian going on.”
“Oh wow,” You grabbed the cone paying the man. “You’re on the nose but I can’t lie, that's a bit eye opening.”
“It’s all good sweetheart, you enjoy your time here Louisville gots a lot to offer if you let it.”
You let the man’s words ring through your ear as you ate your ice cream on your walk back to the hotel stopping by the waterfront and taking in the view. You couldn’t post any pictures while you were in Louisville to keep the issue a surprise but that didn’t stop you from taking them. You had brought your film camera to take some candids and what not for the issue.
Your earphones were blaring as you got into the elevator ready for it to take you to your floor before a hand made its way in between opening it trying to open it back up. You quickly pushed the open button not wanting this man’s hand to get crushed.
“Thank you.” The familiar voice and face of Jack Harlow had come into your vision. “I don’t know what I’d do without my hand.”
You laughed, “Uhm it’s fine.”
He gave you another look, before smiling. “Hey you’re Y/N Y/L/N, right?”
You nodded, “Yeah sorry, I didn’t want to make it awkward if I just introduced myself and stuff, I was gonna wait for dinner.”
“No it’s cool, I recognized you. I stalked your twitter since your Instagram is private.” He spoke before, shaking his head, “That’s weird… I mean like I was researching you? Which doesn’t sound that much better either.”
You laughed, making him laugh. “I suppose that's my job not yours.”
“I had to know who I was going to spend a whole week with, I was just about to go up to your floor and ask if you were ready for dinner.” Jack smiled, as the door opened letting you both off at the same floor.
You looked down at your outfit, it was insanely casual but he didn’t look much different than you. “Aren’t we eating at the restaurant downstairs? I think I need to change.”
He shook his head, “Mm no. Neelam, my manager set that up but I thought we could go eat at this pizza spot that I’ve been going to for the longest, they have the best deep dish I’ve ever tried.”
“Best deep dish? I doubt it.”
“I’m not joking around, c’mon we can eat some pizza and go over what the schedule will look like for the week and I can tell you some stuff that you can write about.” Jack smiled, “C’mon.”
***
“My mom bought me late registration and from there on it was just like I knew, so you know.”
Jack is a robot reading a script when you talk to him over pizza, all the stuff he’s saying you have heard millions of times over the course of different interviews. You frown and Jack catches it.
“You don’t like the pizza?” Jack asks, holding up the menu, “They’ve got other things?”
You shake your head, “No.” You take a bite, “The pizza is delicious really, it’s just you say the same thing a lot.”
Jack looks confused, “I’m sorry?”
“I’m here for a week Jack, we’re going to have to get deeper than the same three topics you recycle in every interview you do.” You bite at your tongue, hoping you didn’t just mess this up.
It’s silent for a bit and you feel like you have.
“Okay…”
You give him a look.
“Okay, go ahead ask me anything, but right now make it not as deep but not as repetitive, I’m a human Y/N I’m not going to open up to you right off the bat and I’m sure you wouldn’t either.” Jack says and you nod understandingly.
“Dog or cats?”
“Really?” Jack tilts his head, “That’s the question you choose?”
“Answer Mr. Harlow.” You smile, taking a sip of your Big Red.
“Dogs,” Jack responds, “I’d say neither but if I really had to choose I’d pick dogs because I grew up with one and parents still have her.”
You nod, “Tacos or pizza?”
Jack looks around, “That’s just cold.”
You giggle. “I know my answer.”
“What’s your answer then?” Jack leans over.
“Mmm-mm.” You shake your head, “This isn’t about me.”
“Okay but I’m asking, if you want me to open up this has to feel like normal conversation with two sides.”
He’s right, so you answer. “Tacos.”
“Manager!” Jack turns around making you almost leep over the table to pull his body back.
“No Jack, no!” You laugh. “Now answer the question!”
“Pizza… Obviously.” Jack takes another bite, “Traitor.”
“I never said I loved pizza. Plus I’m a Southern California girl, tacos were the meal of my adolescence.” You smile, “Alright next question… When was the last time you laughed until your cried?”
“Ooh that’s a good one,” Jack smiles while diving into a story about him giving his friends ranch soda and by the time he finishes you’re in tears as well.
You wipe away the tears, trying not to mess up the mascara you have on. “That’s horrible, like just bad. It reminds me of the time I ate a bard jelly bean and projectile vomited all over my little brother.”
Jack throws his head back laughing, “Now that’s just wrong.”
The rest of the questions flow so easily as you and Jack go back and forth, eventually Jack joins in asking you questions as well. By the end of the night the two of you are full on pizza and laughter.
“This was nice, I didn’t expect to get along so well with a person who’s going to write a story about me.” Jack smiles.
You nod, “I didn’t expect to have to throw away all my real questions and ask you Hinge questions.”
“I knew those sounded like dating app questions.” Jack laughs.
You giggle too, “Oh yeah all of them.”
“Well still, you’re very nice Y/N I’m sure you’ll get something out of me.” Jack nods.
You yawn, “I’m sure I will.”
“You tired?” Jack asks.
“Mhm, I got in really early and I guess I’m still a bit jet lagged and all that.” You, try your best to not yawn again but you still do, “Sorry.”
“It’s fine Y/N, we can meet up again tomorrow and I’ll show you around and what not but for now we can head back to the hotel and get you some rest.” Jack is sweet and very caring, it’s a side that he doesn’t seem to show often.
The two of you take a sprinter van back and not meaning to you fall asleep on the comfy seat, you’re too deep in sleep to wake up and that’s when you feel someone lift you up. Your eyes blink open, not wanting to get kidnapped but your nerves calm down as you see it’s Jack.
“S’all good Y/N,” The door to your hotel opens, and the soft feeling of the bed feels like heaven under you.
“Sorry.” You mumble into the pillow.
Jack just chuckles, “Goodnight.”
The door closes and locks and you’re out for the rest of the night.
***
The next day Jack takes you around the whole city of Louisville, he even invites his best friend Urban who you recognize from multiple interviews.
“Okay so you’re telling me you used to do girls in this park? Are you sure that’s something you want to share?” You laugh as Jack and Urban tell you about their side missions at their childhood park.
Jack nods, “I was fuckin’— we were fuckin’ like deers here.” He thinks for a moment, “Of course like late at night when there’s no children around… of course.”
“Oh, of course.” You agree, smiling.
You quickly find out that Jack open ups more with Urban around, cracking jokes amongst other things. Urban is as laid back as he seems online, and even funnier in real life. He takes notice of your camera.
“That’s a nice camera, that’s the Olympus right?” Urban asks.
The three of you are sprawled out on a thin sheet in the middle of the park, you were messing around with your camera getting ready to take a picture of the park.
You nod, “Mhm. It’s the Olympus Epic Point and Shoot. It was the very first real camera I got and I take it everywhere when I don’t need my fancy one.”
“Do you like taking pictures?” Jack asks, “Are you supposed to take pictures for the spread?”
“I don’t have to, you’ll obviously head to LA to shoot the cover and all that so they’ll take some editorials and stuff… Trust me I had pitched a more intimate set of pictures, I thought it would add character to have a bunch of candids of you in your home city.”
“I think that would be cooler than just doing a photoshoot,” Urban agrees, “But Jack is a camera whore so you know up to him.”
Jack shoves Urban and you laugh as they begin to play fight rolling around on the grass like children. You take out your camera snapping two photos of them, the snap of the camera making Urban’s head immediately turn.
“Don’t steal my job, girl.” Urban shakes his head, “Why don’t you pose for the camera?”
He pulls out his camera and you shake your head, “No absolutely not.”
As much as you wanted to be photogenic you just weren't, and as much as you wanted to be confident and cool, you just couldn’t. You, however, couldn't quite say no as Jack pulled you down next to him.
“C’mon Y/N smile for the picture.” Jack says to you and you just shake your head as the two of you simultaneously put bunny ears behind each other’s head.
Urban snaps the picture, moving closer to you and snapping another one. “That one’s gonna be nice.”
You smile, and then ask, “If you could be any Peaky Blinders character, which one would you be?”
Jack gives you a confused look, “What’s Peaky Blinders?”
It’s how you end up at Jack’s childhood home, in his living room watching the first season of your favorite show ever.
“So he’s like a gangster?” Jack asks, grabbing a handful of popcorn from your lap.
You nod, eyes focused on the show even though you've watched the show over a million times. “Right now he’s only just started I guess, he has the respect from his surrounding areas and he can get what he wants but as the show goes on he gets bigger and more powerful.”
“And what about Grace?” Jack looks over at you, “I mean, c’mon you know he’s trying to smash… but she’s the enemy.”
You laugh, “He most definitely wants to smash.”
“I can’t believe I’ve never watched this show.” Jack says, “It’s really fucking good, I’ve always loved this kinda stuff, you know gangsters and all that.”
You nod, “Me too. When I was younger my room was full of posters from Goodfellas, Casino, Scarface, A Bronx Tale…” Jack looks at you like you’re the most interesting person in the world and it makes you stop in the middle of your sentence, “You know just the essentials.”
“Your room sounds way cooler than mine,” Jack looks up, “You wanna see it?”
“Sure.”
Jack’s parents aren’t home, both of them are at work, his little brother doesn’t live at home anymore either so it’s just the two of you, alone. You feel younger again, like you’re back in high school sneaking into your crush’s home. You follow Jack up the stairs and his room is the first to the right, you grin as you walk in.
“Were you filming videos that needed to be edited in here?” You laugh as you're met with the craziest green color painted on his walls.
Jack laughs along, “Yeah I don’t know what I was thinking…”
You look around so more, spotting the posters he had. Rappers littered his walls, Eminem, Kendrick Lamar, Lil Wayne, Kanye West… along with a lone Spider-Man poster and on top of his bed, on his ceiling is Lauren London.
“I also loved ATL.” You turn to Jack who’s shaking his head in embarrassment, “You were right.”
Jack looks at you confused, “About?”
“My room was cooler.” You smile.
“Don’t get too cocky now.”
You laugh, pulling out your camera, “Do you mind?”
Jack thinks, does he want his childhood room on the internet for the world to see? He really doesn't but something about you wanting to take a picture makes him want to let you. He nods, “But only for you right?”
“Of course,” You snap a picture, “I wouldn’t dare ruin your street cred.”
On day three Jack takes you to Waterfront Park, a place that always held a festival he enjoyed going to and was now going to headline in only a few months.
“Are you excited? You know, to headline and to release your album?” You lean on the rail, looking up at Jack.
Jack nods, “I’m too fucking excited. Shit doesn’t even feel real sometimes. I used to dream of this life and now I’m really living it, getting to work with my idols and everything… I’m just proud of myself, proud of my team.”
“You should be, you’ve accomplished so much in the last two years.” You agree, “And from what I’ve seen and read you’ve been working on this for a while. Working from the ground up, it really pays off huh?”
Jack looks down at you nodding, “It does.”
“You’re not what I expected at all…” You blurt out before you can stop, “That’s not… Uhm that’s…”
“It’s fine, I guess I could say the same about you.” Jack nods, a small smile playing on his lips
You look down, smiling at your feet but quickly wiping it off as you remember what you’re actually here for. You’re for work and work only.
Jack lays his hand on your shoulder, “I’ll be right back I’m gonna take this call real quick.”
As soon as Jack is a good distance away you let out a breath you had no idea you were holding in. “Fuck.” You mumble, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” This was not actually happening, it could not be, but it was because you could feel the sloshing feeling in your stomach and when you pressed your palms to your cheeks you could feel the heat radiating off them. There was just no way.
Jack jogged back, a smile on his face. “You want to take the night off and head to a party?”
***
Jack had been introducing you as his friend from LA to his friends, not bringing up the fact that you were a journalist. They were all sweet, even the girls, but you still had the feeling that they were talking about you as you stood next to Jack engaging in conversation with his childhood friends.
You shift your feet every few seconds, feeling the unwelcoming feeling of anxiety creeping up. “I’m gonna use the restroom.” You tell Jack before making your way to the restroom away from the crowded room and loud music.
You cool your hands down under the cold water, trying to calm yourself down before things can get any worse and luckily it works. You stick a gum in your mouth and smile at yourself in the mirror, before frowning. “I should have just gone back to the hotel.” You mumble.
There's three girls leaning against the wall as you exit the restroom, you give them a small smile before trying to make your way back to Jack.
“Hey you’re Jack’s friend right?” The blonde one at the end asks before you can fully get away.
You turn not wanting to be rude, “Mhm.”
“And you’re not together or anything right? Like it’s strictly friends.”
You have to force a smile, “Oh yeah. Just friends.”
They all nod and you take that as your exit, you’re halfway away when you hear them. “See told you, I’m gonna make my move.”
Jack smiles as he sees your back, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “You having a good time?” He says as he leans down to your ear.
You nod, “Your friends are nice. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Of course,” Jack says, “You’re really cool Y/N I can see me and you still being friends after this week.”
You laugh, “I feel like this is your way of trying to get accepted on my Instagram account.”
“I want to see all 876 pictures…” He pauses, “See how many you have of your pretty face.”
You feel your heart skip several beats and you feel even more stupider for it. This is your job, he is your job, at the end of the day you will go home and write this piece and he will go on with his life. But you can’t help but hope he feels the same way, the same sloshing sensation you have in your stomach whenever he smiles at you.
You shake your head, “You’d hate my Instagram.”
Jack looks down at your lips, you catch it and then back at you. “Doubt it.”
You’re sober, so fucking sober but you feely woozy and dizzy, like you just chugged a bottle of tequila. “Jack-”
“So you just weren’t going to say hi?” The same blonde girl who had asked you if you were with Jack cuts you off.
You take several steps back, taking the time to find the nearest exit to get some fresh air. You sigh, taking in the scent of wet grass as you stand in the dark of some random person’s driveway. “Get the story and go home. Get the story and go home. Get the story and go home.” You keep repeating to yourself like a mantra.
You order a lyft back to the hotel, texting Jack on the way.
YOU: Hey, I wasn’t feeling too good so I just dipped. I’ll see you tomorrow for the studio session though :)
JACK: You didn’t even say goodbye?
JACK: I hope you feel better, I’m going back too. Do you need anything I can stop by CVS or something?
YOU: I’m fine, just going to go to sleep. Goodnight Jack.
JACK: Night Mrs. Shelby ;)
You smile to yourself reading the last message.
***
“You sure you’re good? We can always do this another day, I have Netflix loaded up in my room and we can finish another season of Peaky Blinders.” Jack asks as the two of you walk into the studio.
“I’m fine,” You say walking into the studio ready to sit down and just observe, “I’ll just be over here.”
Jack is confused on why you chose the farthest place away from him to sit but he doesn’t say anything about it. “Okay.”
You find it fascinating watching Jack in one of his elements, mixing, recording, and overall just being the boss of his own music. Jack plans on releasing the album title through your piece, you laughed when he first told you it. Come Home The Kids Miss You, an ode to his fans and all the comments he receives on a daily basis.
“Y/N!” Jack calls out to you, making you lift your head from your notebook, “You mind helping me with something.”
You hesitantly get up, moving over to him and his group of producers, “What do you want me to do?”
“It’s real easy, promise and if you feel too uncomfortable feel free to say no but you’re the only girl in here and I just wanted to get a voice sample of you saying two words for my next single. You mind?” Jack has a smile on his face that you can’t quite say no to.
You shrug, “Sure? What am I saying?”
“That’s my girl.” Jack says excitedly, leading you into the booth and putting a pair of headphones on you, “Alright I’m gonna tell them to replay the line before you say it just so you can get the vibe okay?”
You nod, watching as he thumbs up one of the sound guys.
You might be the man, well, that’s unless I am/ Okay, I’ll confess I am/ Go ahead and get undressed, I am/ Okay cool, you on Sunset…
“All you have to say is I am, that’s cool?” Jack asks.
You nod, “Just I am?”
“Just I am, you got this Y/N… I’ll step outside. It’s whenever you’re ready.” Jack says.
You give them a thumbs up and they replay the piece.
“I am.” You say into the mic, shrugging.
You can see Jack shaking his head on the other side of the glass, before hearing his voice in your headphones. “Hey Y/N, that was okay but maybe a little more sensual you know?”
Sensual? Fuck. “Okay, just play it one more time?”
They play it again and you say the same thing, “I am.”
Jack shakes his head again and you see him whisper something to the sound guy, he nods and steps out and then Jack steps into the recording booth, “You good?”
You frown, “I can’t do this… I’m not a voice girl. My words don’t actually come out good in person, that's why I write them.”
Jack smiles at you. “You get in your head a lot, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.” You look down at your feet.
“You read books? Do you get them, like you picture them like movies when you read?” Jack asks randomly.
You nod.
Jack walks out of the booth and he writes down something on a notepad. You watch as he scribbles and brings it back into the booth, “Here read this and just do what you think might work. Say it how you picture it in your head.” Jack hands you the notepad and exits the booth and then the room.
You look down at the yellow paper, reading it over.
“Holy shit.” You let out a nervous laughter, feeling your cheeks heat up as you read what he wrote.
Jack Harlow had made it to LA just to see Y/N, he was so excited and had been texting her all day. They had been texting, messaging, calling, every day since she left Louisville. Anyone who wasn’t blind and maybe even they could see that there was something going on between them. He wants her and he can only hope she wants him back… He’s been waiting for what feels like years and when he asks her if she is dressed she says no, she’s teasing him, he asks her if she's on Sunset? Is she?
You replay the lyrics in your head before leaning into the mic, you feel a more playful voice come on. “I am.”
YOU: You can come back in now.
You feel wild, and your heart is beating at a million miles per hour and when Jack walks back into the studio and then the booth you do what your heart tells you, disregarding your brain, you jump up and kiss him.
You have no time to regret it because he’s kissing you back with just as much want that is behind your kiss. “Did you,” Kiss, “Write,” Kiss again, “Jack Harlow,” More kisses, “Fanfiction for me?”
Jack pulls away, his lips are red, tinted with your lipstick, “What the hell is fanfiction?”
You shake your head, “Doesn’t matter.” You say pulling him back into the kiss.
It’s wrong, you know it’s wrong but you can't stop. Jack isn’t stopping so why should you? Maybe you should stop because you’re going to get fired? You’re not going to get fired for kissing someone. You will if they find out you kissed the person you’re supposed to be interviewing. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This feels nice though, Jack’s lips are soft.
Jack pulls away, looking back down at you. “You’re thinking really loudly baby.”
Baby… Oh you’re fucked.
“Sorry, I just.. I’m… I’m not sure why I did that?” You step back.
Jack looks almost hurt as those words come out of your mouth, “Huh?”
“Fuck.” You mumble, “I need to go.”
“Go? What are you talking about?” Jack asks, following you as you leave the booth and the studio. “Y/N!”
You turn back, “I’m sorry Jack, I should have never kissed you.” You try leaving but his hand is gripping yours before you can.
“Don’t.” Jack says, “Don’t leave, I meant it. What I wrote, there is something going on between us. And don’t say you don’t see it or feel it, because if you didn’t you wouldn’t have kissed me.”
You stay quiet.
“Y/N, I like you. Like I actually like you. Don’t go. Please.”
THREE WEEKS LATER…
Jack Harlow, Louisville’s Very Own.
Written By: Y/F/N Y/L/N
You frown, reading your article for Jack… it was good, everyone had been praising you for it. They even added some candids you had taken of Jack for the spread.
Next to the line, Jack Harlow is not as predictable as many people might think. Although Harlow says he’s never watched Peaky Blinder, after a season one watch party he feels he most alike with Tommy Shelby, but after getting to know him it's clear he’s most like John Shelby and if you watch Peaky Blinders and are a fan of Jack Harlow nothing can quite be more clearer than that, a picture of Jack posing next to a random Cillian Murphy cut out that the two of you had randomly stumbled upon.
Your job was done, the article was done, the magazine was published and printed and was now in stands all over. Jack had been promoting it, posting the cover on his Instagram, filming videos for the youtube channel. You wondered if he had read it.
You don’t think he did, if he did he’d call. He hadn;t called at all since you left, you knew that was our fault. After he told you he had liked you, asked you to stay, practically begged you. You just left. The week wasn’t over but you couldn’t stay after that, not after you had crossed that line.
His name was still in your requests, and feeling reckless and maybe a little hopeful you accepted it, following him back.
In only two minutes you were getting a message.
jackharlow: Now I can see all the pictures of your pretty face
yourinstaname: i miss you
jackharlow: Are you in LA?
yourinstaname: are you?
jackharlow: I am..
yourinstaname: im bout to slide ;)
jackharlow: Dork
yourinstaname: come pick me up
jackharlow: on my way baby
jackharlow: loved the article btw
yourinstaname: i can kiss you now without feeling guilty
jackharlow: Good… and also you’re never writing a story about me again bc I’m asking you out.
yourinstaname: i resign from the jack harlow writer club
jackharlow: And you enlist in the jack harlow kissing club as the only member
yourinstaname: duh
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YJ all living in the same dorm/frat house in college would be amazing. What do you think everyone’s majors/clubs/athletics would be?
assuming this is still like... main universe-adjacent and they all still have powers etc. yknow i think cassie has a giant existential crisis because she doesn't know what she's gonna do with her life other than be wonder girl and that will NOT fly with her mom bc helena absolutely wants her to have a normal life as much as she can. late-night conversations at the kitchen counter where she confides that she has no idea what she wants to do and helena sits with her and tells her she has time but she does expect her to go to college and do something, even if she doesn't have to have it all figured out right yet. all of this to say i think cassie goes in undeclared. also i think she should be on the volleyball team.
tim in college is smth i was actually talking abt with moss and britta just the other day. he of course is an insane engineering major who skateboards to class with a naruto-themed energy drink in hand only to fall asleep there 14 minutes into the lecture. also he's wearing a blazer and formal shorts bc he's like I Am Getting A Good Grade In Presentable Student :) and theres just something wrong with him. he has to join an engineering student study group bc its the only thing that actually gets him to bother doing his homework even if hes a whiz at the actual content. hes a disaster but he cant drop out he wants to hang with his besties plus lucius was like listen you can work at WE r&d and tinker with shit to your heart's desire but you do need at least a bachelor's of mechanical engineering to do that even if i know you know your stuff. and tim was like well i guess that's fair :/ hey squad i can sugar daddy us an apartment near met u lets all get an education
kon... well i think he also has a crisis (see also: sotm) but eventually i do like him going into teaching or stuff with kids in general. im always bouncing btwn him being a childrens librarian or a high school biology teacher. he WILL tell all these kids about star trek or so help him god. i feel like he wouldn't really go for most athletics bc he'd be too worried about making sure he doesn't excel too unnaturally BUT just for me, i think he and bart should join the ballroom dance team together. i think they would have so much fun doing jive in particular
as for bart. well the thing about bart is that he could literally do anything he wants to? the real question is what subject would hold his attention consistently over several years. i think the answer is either computer science or theoretical physics. possibly both i think he might double major. he's also terrible at remembering to do his homework etc but he flies through it when he bothers to. and he and kon join the ballroom team together :)!!!
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thinking started feeling like burning - nishinoya yuu/reader
m.list - deleted smut scene - read on ao3
A/N: would you believe I wrote the majority of this BEFORE having a complete mental break and quitting my job without any sort of plan? this one is gonna have a smut spinoff oneshot sometime before the end of the month but no clear ETA yet due to school and job hunting. this boy needs more love and goddammit I may not be confident in my noya but I'M GONNA GIVE IT TO HIM
Summary: Nothing had changed since you left. Not him, a brilliant hurricane, and not you, a lost robot moving forward with no goals or dreams of your own. Opposites attract, after all.
Warnings: past minor character death, suggestive themes. reader is gender-neutral but for purposes of the deleted smut scene coming later is afab. reader basically has an anxiety disorder and it's implied they have not great parentage but no major detail is gone into.
Word count: ~8600
desolate
/dĕs′ə-lĭt, dĕz′-/
adjective
1. Devoid of inhabitants; deserted
2. Barren; lifeless
Yeah, maybe that was it. Desolate. In this hotel room—small, furnished but empty—you set aside your phone and its little dictionary definition of what’s wrong with you and the definition imprints itself on your brain all over again. Hardly the first time you’ve known the meaning of the word, but perhaps the first you’ve recognized it in your face.
In high school, you’d occupied your time with almost nothing but studying. There had been friends, one or two, and a blip towards the end in the form of a boyfriend, but you had potential and didn’t need to focus on things like going out to karaoke or making out with a guy when you had exams to study for.
You had so much potential.
You recall, dimly, having memorized the definition for desolate one day among all your vocabulary. More than that, reciting it for a hopeless light in your life who just didn’t get all this school stuff.
Your nose wrinkles at the memory. Best not get caught up in that spiral, yeah?
Against your better judgment, you flop onto the hotel room bed face-first and sigh. What the fuck are you even doing here? None of this was necessary. None of this was planned for.
There’s, of course, the simple textbook facts of the situation: you attended a work event, and halfway through, went to the bathroom and just stared at yourself in the mirror—much like the way you spent the past half an hour in a hotel bathroom—went home, got in your car, and drove to a hotel precariously close to your hometown. Sure, there’d been some kind of internal monologue going on, but you don’t remember any of it anymore. Nothing beyond what you’ve known for the past six years:
Something is fundamentally wrong with you.
“So, what, we get in our car and drive away and don’t show up to work and hope it all works out?”
The desolate room does not answer the desolate you.
~
Some species of sea turtle have been observed returning to the beach where they were born in order to nest, a phenomenon known as “natal homing”. There are many theories as to how they are able to return to their birthplace…
Like the sea turtle, you swim through endless water and find yourself, of all places, back in Miyagi, staring at a house you only vaguely remember and wondering if your instincts really led you here, or if you’re staring at a random stranger’s house you’ve never been to. Maybe there’s more than one family with his last name in the area.
It looks like all the others—a house in the countryside, standard and homely. You were here… what? Three times? Five?
Not even in the double digits—you know that much. You and Noya had spent more time together at school, or at your house. Your parents hadn’t wanted you to spend too much time alone with a guy at his house. In hindsight, you kind of get it. His grandfather hadn’t exactly been the type to make sure you two were being good kids, or whatever.
Still, you run your fingers over the nameplate, the kanji of Nishinoya’s last name, and try to figure out why this, of all places, is where you’ve drifted to.
“[name]?”
You startle, looking to the voice. Familiar, yet matured. Perhaps a bit lower. Perhaps carrying an emotion you don’t recognize. That, you know, must be him.
You note with a barely-stifled laugh that Noya has not changed his hair in the years since you’ve seen him. Still that stupid, adorable tuft of dyed blond hanging down in his face. Good.
Then, the feeling passes, and the panic sets in.
What the fuck are you doing at your ex-boyfriend’s house?
“Noya,” you breathe. You nod to him, stunned.
“Holy shit, that’s actually you!” He’s closed the distance in an instant, swept you off your feet in a hug that has you crying out in surprise. When he sets you down, you stumble, trying to catch your brain before it falls out your head. He studies you with bright, sharp eyes. “What are you doing here?”
Ah. “Uh, yeah. About that? I… I have no idea.”
He blinks slowly, and then he’s laughing. “That’s not like you at all! Come on, if you’ve got the time to sit down, I’m sure we’ve got something around here to feed you with.”
“Feed me…? Wait, I…”
But he’s already grabbed your wrist, pulled you across the forbidden threshold and right to the front door. Maybe you should have thought about literally anything before showing up at his house.
Too late for regrets, you guess. You’re in way too deep for him to let you slip away now.
~
In your mind, Nishinoya is steepling his hands together like a stern employer trying to figure out the best way to admonish a bad employee. The image doesn’t really suit him, and you do know that, but you still feel like cubicle fodder waiting to get chewed out.
In reality, he’s resting his chin in his hand, watching you carefully as you run your thumb over the glass of water he’s given you and try not to meet his eyes. (It had taken quite a bit of debating to keep him from actually feeding you. The water was a concession in a valiant fight.)
“So, you don’t know what you’re doing?”
A slow nod.
“You don’t know what you’re doing.” The statement, repeated, does little to hide how astounded he is at the concept.
You sigh. It is easy and so, so heavy as the air escapes you. Maybe you can drown your errant thoughts in water until you understand just what, exactly, you’re trying to do here. You try, but no matter how much you drink, you still don’t have an answer. “Pretty much, yeah. I just sort of ended up here.”
He has an easy smile on his lips, sharp eyes taking you in. “After what?”
“What do you mean, after what?”
“I mean, it’s not like you to just run off and end up anywhere. You’re, you know, thoughtful and stuff! I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of you just doing something without at least three plans ready to go in case something went wrong.”
“I mean, there was you,” you admit with a laugh.
Shit. That was the wrong thing to say, but here you are, panicking and thinking you’ll make things even more awkward than you already feel, and there he is, smiling like he’s looking at…
What?
It isn’t until he’s leaning in further like he’s about to say something dirty that you realize your real mistake in that response.
“You didn’t think before you did me, huh?”
Your cheeks flare, and you hurriedly down the rest of the glass of water while you try to think of a suitable redirect. “You know what I meant!”
“Sure do! You meant—“
“Oh, hush.”
He laughs, and you fall into silence, trying to commit the sound of his laugh to memory.
That’s what sucks about this, oddly enough: you sit at his dining room table, holding a now-empty cup, and it’s just as easy as it always was. He tells you what he’s been up to: how he doesn’t play volleyball anymore (tragic—you loved watching him play) and he’s been traveling a lot (infuriating—you love to travel) and he’s dated once or twice since you last spoke, but nothing really lasting.
(heartbreaking.)
(you love—)
(you loved him when you left.)
“So,” he says, ever enthusiastic to redirect the conversation onto you, “what have you been up to?”
“Nothing, I guess.”
“Oh, come on. You’ve always been amazing. I bet you’ve been doing something awesome with that brain of yours. You wanted to write, right? How’s that going?”
Hah. Amazing. He’s only saying that because you were useful when you tutored him. “No, really. Nothing. Sales, I guess. Convincing people to give up money for a product I don’t believe in for a company I hate. I guess I’m up for a promotion soon. Really though, I think I’ve probably just been dead for the last… what, six years?”
You’d picked the number because it was when you graduated high school. That had made sense to you—college, too, had felt like nothing. No parties, no partners, just studying, exams, and keeping your body moving forward until you had a neat little degree in a field you didn’t care about. But when you spare a glance away from the window, where your attention has been glued in hopes of avoiding letting the awkwardness and pain of this whole situation actually hit you, it’s the first time since he ran into you that Noya isn’t smiling at you.
Oh yeah. And right before you graduated, you’d broken up with him.
“You broke up with me, you know,” he says after a long moment. “Are you saying you’ve been a ghost this whole time?”
And ouch. He’s right, and you hate that. It hadn’t been his fault you’d left. It’d been your insecurities, your inability to handle the weight of your parents’ disapproval, your unwillingness to fight for something that seemed so correct, your stunning realization that Noya would always shine too brightly for you to be the one standing beside him. He always thought you were amazing, but you were nothing compared to his whirlwind personality, his passion, his sense of life.
Maybe this would have been easier if you’d ever told him that.
“I don’t know what I’m saying. Probably just that high school was the last time I felt like a real person, and that ever since, I’ve just been going through the motions and slowly losing my mind and trying not to panic about the fact that not only do I not have any direction in life, I don’t even know how to enjoy it if I did.” Your words come out calm and metered. You try not to betray the worst of it.
For a moment, talking to him, you’d been able to forget the person you’ve been since graduation. You were always moving forward a step at a time, but at some point, you stopped being a hiker on your predetermined life path and just let yourself be a robot. Mechanical step after mechanical step. Just keep moving forward and you’ll get to where you’re going. When you get to where you’re going, you’ll take another stupid, empty step towards where you’re going now. Some successful career, some boring partner that your parents like, kids, wake up, go to sleep, another day, another day, another day doing exactly what you’re expected to do. Just keep following that bright, clear line. That bright, clear line to nowhere at all.
And then you stumbled. And now you’re here, again. Dizzy, sitting at the same table with the same guy.
At some point, you’d trailed off, staring at the table and searching for scars of a life well-used on its surface. You hear the shuffle of him standing over you, and look up to find him reaching out a hand to you. “Alright. Come on.”
“Come… on?”
He leans forward a bit more to take your hand and pull you up. “I’m taking you out to dinner.”
“Huh? Wait, but where?”
“Don’t know yet!”
He drags you out, and you stumble after him in mind and body.
“It’s one o’clock!”
“So we’ll scout places that look good while we get lunch. You don’t have anything to do, right?”
“Well, no, but—“
“Then we’re going!”
He pulls you right past the entryway, nearly has you out the front door before you can protest. “I’m not wearing shoes, Noya! You’re not wearing shoes!”
He only laughs, only pauses, only gives you a moment. “Get them on, then.”
“And do you even have your wallet?”
He blinks and pats his pockets. “Guess not! You’ve got until I’m back with my wallet to get your shoes on and decide to let this happen!”
Decide… to let this happen?
He disappears around the corner, deeper into the house, and at last you sigh, sitting to put your shoes on properly. You doubt he’ll be quick finding his wallet—if he’s anything like you remember (and so far, he’s exactly like you remember) then he has absolutely no idea where he put it last. If you didn’t think he’d absolutely drag you out the door once it was found, you’d kick your shoes back off and help him look.
After getting your shoes on, setting his out in ideal kicking-feet-into-without-stopping position, and five minutes of listening to him rustle about the house, you glance at a table in the entryway and smile at the sight of a plain black wallet in the dish. You inspect it, just in case it’s not his—there’s been no sign of Noya’s grandfather around, but almost nothing’s changed, so he probably still lives here. Better to check.
You open it, just to see that it’s got his ID in there and not someone else’s, and nearly slam it closed again immediately.
Yeah, it’s his missing wallet. ID and everything. And, in the little photo slot, a six-year-old photo of him in his volleyball jersey, million-volt smile on his face as you push him away with your own brilliant smile. He’d just won a game, and you’d been busy trying to get him, gross and sweaty, to stop getting all that gross and sweaty on you even as you laughed the entire time. Tanaka took the picture, you think—there’s a bit of thumb in the bottom right corner.
Noya keeps a photo of the two of you in his wallet. After six years without talking.
A noise bangs from somewhere else in the house, and you close the wallet and force down the warmth welling in your chest and rushing to your face. “All good?” you call out.
“I can’t find my stupid wallet!” he shouts back a moment later. He sounds a bit frustrated. “This isn’t going to work if I spend the whole day trying to—“
“Nishinoya,” you cut him off, half sing-song, “you left it by the door.”
No reply except the thudding of feet as he runs right up to you and plucks it from your hand. “There it is! I found it!”
“Oh, really? You found it?”
“Yep! Are your shoes on? We gotta go now!”
“Go where? You’re in an awful rush. Do you have plans or something?”
He kicks his shoes on and grabs your wrist again. “Nope! You’re gonna love it!”
~
Really a type of plankton, jellyfish possess extremely limited swimming abilities, if any at all, and rely on the currents to control their horizontal movements through the sea.
It occurs to you, as you make the trek to the bus stop, that you didn’t have to say yes to this. Well, really, it’s not like you said yes so much as didn’t say otherwise, and Noya, ever the trail-blazer, pulled you along for the ride. What’s even the difference in what you’re doing now and what you’ve been doing these past six years?
You barely make the bus. Nishinoya pays the fare for both of you, before you can protest, and when there’s only one open seat, he takes it.
“You’re such a gentleman,” you snort.
He responds by tugging you down into his lap. “I am!”
You’re stronger than you were in high school. Really, you are. You don’t collapse into emotions like embarrassment. You don’t let the sensation of being flustered consume you. You do not.
…you bury your face in your hands. “What are we doing right now?”
Always laughing. Always lighthearted. “What do you mean? We’re taking the bus someplace we can find some restaurants.”
“You know exactly what I mean!”
The bus passes over a bump, and he wraps an arm around your waist to steady you. “You know, you’ve barely changed at all.”
“Neither have you,” you fire back. You meant it as an accusation, but the words come out tender. “You’re still a complete hurricane.”
He laughs, his own tenderness bleeding through. “And you’re still not letting yourself have anything you want.”
“When have I ever—“
“I think you know.” His other arm comes around your waist, holding you in a loose hug, chin resting against your arm.
You try not to stiffen at all the contact. This, too, is something you haven’t felt in ages—simple, casual touch. He had always been that way, resting a hand on your shoulder, your back, running fingers through the ends of your hair, like if he stopped touching you, you’d run away.
Maybe he was right. Maybe he is right.
“You didn’t answer me before. Are you still writing? I’ve been keeping an eye out for your name on the shelves, you know.”
You rest a hand on his arm, half considering pushing his arm off. The bus stops, but apparently not at a stop Noya is interested in dragging you off at—he steadies you as the bus jolts, and as a few passengers file off, you consider admitting the answer.
“Poetry these days, mostly. It’s not like I’d ever get published if I went for it, so I just scribble out a few half-assed lines and—“
“See, stop that. That’s half your problem right there, you know!”
“Another seat just opened up, you know,” you mumble. If you try to fight him on this, he’ll end up talking you into these grand ideas that you’ll never be able to accomplish, and by the end of the day he’ll probably have you in love with him all over again, even though you know it would never work, even though you know you’d never really be anything—as an employee, as a person, as his. “We don’t have to do this… couple-y thing.”
“I want to, though. It’s nice, isn’t it?”
…it is. It really is.
“…I still like to write, but I never have time anymore. It’s work, recovering from work, getting ready for work, waiting to come home from work so I can prep lunches and wash my clothes so I have something to eat and wear at work. I don’t have energy for anything except meetings, emails, and phone calls where no one means anything they say.”
“Damn. No wonder you seem so lost. Why don’t you quit?”
“And do what? It’s not like I have a dream job. I just want to get by and survive—“
“Why? You’re not happy. Don’t you want to do something more than survive?”
“I don’t even know what that would look like, Noya.”
He says everything so simply. Just quit. Just move on. Just move forward. He’s lucky, you think. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have parents planning out your entire life for you.
…okay, that was mean. Add that to the list of things that are wrong with you.
He sighs, shaking you gently in his hold. “It’s worse than I thought. Hey, [name], why’d you come here?”
“I told you already. I have no idea.”
“Alright. Adding it to the list. Today, you’re experiencing adventure for the first time in six years, and you’re gonna figure out what you were doing standing outside my house at noon on a Saturday. If I have my way, you’re also going to be quitting your job and starting a promising career as the greatest writer Japan’s ever seen, renowned the world over, but we can get to that some other time if you want!”
“Noya, I’m not—“ Your words die in your throat as his fingers slide between yours. You hadn’t realized your hand was sliding up his arm, but here he is, holding hands with you like it’s nothing.
God. How old are you, again?
~
Lunch ends up being crepes. Never mind the fact that crepes are not a meal, not even when Noya suggests buying two each—he proudly declares it lunch, and so lunch it must be. You’re lucky that he graciously allowed you to get a table, though he’d insisted on grabbing one outside even as the sky above has started to loom with rainclouds.
“And what’ll we do if it rains?” you retort drily as he sits across from you.
“We’ll figure it out,” he grins, sliding you a menu. “Dry off after we get rained on, not before.”
You snort. “How about we just try not to get rained on?”
“Then we would be sitting inside, and you wouldn’t get to look up at the clouds while we eat! You always liked the way the sky looked before it rained, right?”
A soft huff leaves you, a small smile unbidden. “You actually remember that? I think I said that to you, like, one time.”
He nods. “Only had to say it once! Besides, I caught you staring up at the sky in the rain more than once.”
“And yet, I had to repeat the same information for you so many times, only for you to still get it wrong on test day…”
“Hey! I was distracted!”
“You weren’t supposed to be,” you tease.
“What was I supposed to do? There was this gorgeous person sitting across from me telling me all these complicated things in a nice voice. I’m a simple man!”
Though your cheeks heat at the declaration, you can’t help but laugh. “Clearly.”
“Yeah. Clearly.” For just a moment, he’s soft, unbearably soft, and you fear looking at him. Quick, change the subject before you have to acknowledge whatever’s going on here!
“S-so!” Smooth! You’re doing great, sweetie! “Any idea what you’re going to get?”
He slaps a finger down on the menu without looking. “A… monte… monte…”
You sigh and peer over to look at the fanciful English he’s pointing to. “A Monte Cristo crepe?”
“Yeah!”
“Did you read the part where it’s got onions as a main ingredient? Don’t you hate onions?”
He wrinkles his nose, but stands firm. “I’m sure!”
You huff softly. “Alright. Far be it from me to stop you.”
“What about you? Make a pros and cons list for each menu item yet?” he teases.
“For your information, I don’t have to do that when ordering in restaurants. That’s for big decisions. But…” You sigh. “I haven’t eaten out in a while. It stresses me out.”
“Why?”
“So let’s say I pick something that looks good, and it sucks. I won’t eat it because it sucks, but then I feel like I’ve insulted the chef and wasted my time and money.”
He narrows his eyes at you. “If you don’t like it, you don’t like it. But at least you’ll know! When’s the last time you actually ate out like this?”
You bite your lip thoughtfully. When was it?
“I… think I did a celebration dinner with my parents when I graduated?”
“College?”
“No, high school. We didn’t celebrate when I graduated college.”
Once again, he’s staring at you in blank disbelief. “[name], that was six years ago.”
You flush. “Yeah, so?”
“That’s so sad. What have you been doing? I’m about to take you on a food tour just so you can catch up on all the restaurants you’ve been missing.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Please, no. I can’t eat that much.”
“Then we’ll spread it out!”
“Noya…”
The waiter drops in at exactly the wrong time. Flustered, you stumble your way into lemonade for you, apple cider for him, and then, as he’s confidently mispronouncing “Monte Cristo” to the waiter, you panic and end up ordering some curry crepe, a concept which intrigues and horrifies you.
“How’d you even find this place? Seems weird for there to be some half-French, half-English upscale crepe restaurant out in Miyagi.”
“What do you mean, how did I find it? We found it together. I’ve never eaten here.”
Right. He’s completely winging everything. “Amazing.”
“Right?”
Drinks come, and you sigh into a masterful lemonade and try to think of things to say to fill the space between you and your ex. (You have to try not to forget that bit—that this isn’t natural, that this can’t lead anywhere. For your sake and his.) “So, how’s your grandfather been?”
The easy smile on Noya’s lips drops. “Oh. He died late last year. Age caught up to him, I guess.”
Oh. Fuck. “Noya, I’m so…”
He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. Crazy bastard had a hell of a time of it. He’d hate for me to sit around feeling bad about it, anyway.”
He wouldn’t want you to pity him. Doesn’t want you to pity him. You know that. But…
Did Noya ever talk about any other family members when you knew him? You know he lived in that house with his grandfather. No siblings. Never mentioned any cousins. You know he didn’t grow up around his parents, either…
Has he been alone this whole time?
You reach across the table. Place a hand on his. “Maybe I’ll visit more often.”
In silence, the two of you sit and wait for your crepes.
~
The crepes come out, and with them, new points of conversation that carry you both to finishing—all the way until Noya manages to argue you into letting him pay. He pulls you along, a bit slower than before, a bit easier. You can’t help but let him take your hand and bring you wherever the wind is leading him, half-pitying him and half from the complete lack of will to fight him all day.
“I told you you weren’t gonna like what you ended up ordering.”
“You liked it though, right?”
Predictably, he’d taken one bite of the crepe and instantly realized his mistake. Far too much onions for his tastes. Your curry crepe had been… well…
Let’s just say that you weren’t especially upset when Noya asked you to swap.
“It was really good, if you like onions.”
“I know what I like! Onions aren’t it!”
It’s easy like this, and the day really is nice. There’s rain on the breeze and in the clouds, a pleasant scent and a comforting gloom over the day. You tease and joke back and forth, hand in hand like it’s natural, and it is. It’s easy, being around him. It was easy back then, too. So easy it scares you.
You’re just waiting for the bottom to fall out.
You’re waiting for the bottom to fall out, and it does—with a shriek and loud laughter, rain chases the both of you underneath a tree and within sight of the nearest bus stop, soaking you both through to the bone.
“See?” Noya says, grinning as he pulls you a little closer underneath the tree. “Now we can worry about getting dry.”
“You’re unbelievable,” said with a smile. “What is all this meant to prove again?”
“Well, why’d you come here?”
“Here? You dragged me out here.”
“Yeah, but why’d you come back to Miyagi? I’m just saying, my doorstep is not the first place I expected you to turn up on when the inevitable nervous breakdown hit.”
You fall silent, shiver in the rain. It’s peaceful. You try to focus on watching for a bus, anything except the question you were asked.
“[name].”
You glance at him, yelp a little to find how close the two of you have gotten. This close, in this kind of situation, it’d be only natural for you to lean in, for you to brush your lips against his.
God, have you even kissed anyone since you burned everything down?
You’re not doing this. You’re not falling into a hurricane like him again. You won’t be able to come back if you do that. (Especially with such a fucking cliché.)
You turn away. “You already asked me that. I told you before, I don’t know.”
He hums thoughtfully. Drapes his jacket over both of your heads in an attempt to keep you both from looking any more rained out than you already do.
“I’m just saying, if you want my opinion, you’re going to have to do a lot more adventuring and a lot less sales for a company you hate if you want to remember what ‘happy’ is supposed to feel like.”
“Not sure I ever knew what that was like to begin with.”
“Never?”
“When I was a kid, maybe.”
He tilts his head. “Not even when we dated? Is that why you broke up with me?” He sounds genuinely curious. Would it feel better, you wonder, if he sounded hurt?
You wince. “I didn’t mean… I just…” A sigh. “It’s more like, I was too afraid to let myself be happy when I was with you.” In the close proximity, you find it easier to let your head rest against him a little. “Please don’t misunderstand. I like you. I probably would have been really happy with you if there weren’t something fundamentally wrong with me as a person.” Shit. You definitely misspoke there.
“I don’t really know how to teach you to relax a little, but it’s gotta be easier now that you’re out of your parents’ house. Maybe you need to go somewhere completely new. Get a fresh outlook.”
You arch a brow his way. At least he’s not commenting on your slip of the tongue. “What are you suggesting, Nishinoya?”
“I’m leaving for Italy. Six weeks. That’s enough time for you to plan your little heart out, right?”
“Italy.”
He nods, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Italy.”
“And if I came back after six years to kill you or something?”
He barks a laugh, stark against the pouring rain. His eyes linger on you. The part of you that’s charitable to yourself thinks he might be mentally undressing the clothes sticking to your skin, though you know it’s more of a challenging look. “I’d like to see you try.”
~
One soaking wet bus ride back to Noya’s house doesn’t save you from this little adventure plan of his. Instead, you’re given a towel or two to dry off with and a change of clothes from his closet, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. The way he acts, everything is.
So now here you are, wearing a shirt far too large for you that you’ve wrestled into looking somewhat nice with Nishinoya’s jeans. It slides off your shoulder a bit no matter how many times you fix it. You admit, you do manage to pull it off, but the whirlwind of the day still has your head spinning with just how wrong this situation is.
You’re supposed to be at work right now. You should be in office clothes, sitting at a desk in a too-cold cubicle that you never got around to decorating, perfect and polished while you tap out yet another perfectly-balanced email, three-quarters professional, one-quarter gentle familiarity to lure your clients into a false sense of security. Not standing in your ex’s bathroom, tying one of his t-shirts at the waist, adjusting your hair to look closer to “decent” than “drowned rat”. This, this day, this situation, was never supposed to happen.
Is this whole day going to be a stumble? How long will it be until you catch yourself and get back to moving forward? When you do, will you still have a place at your desk?
Do you even want one?
A knock at the bathroom door. “If you give me your clothes, I’ll get them started drying,” his voice filters through the door.
All of these actions have been so easy. Your wet clothes, picked up from where they hung shower-side. Easy to wring them out a bit more to keep from making the floor worse. Easy to open the door. Easy to hand them to him.
Nothing had ever been particularly hard before him, but falling in love with him had been just like this: easy.
Maybe the first easy thing you ever remember.
~
So you go along with it. Another bus ride, this one less crowded than before. This time with umbrella in hand—just one, because of course Noya didn’t even think about it on the way out the door—and a determination to figure out what the hell you’re doing here to begin with.
Everything is as everything was, you think. Shops lining the street, one familiar sight in particular, one of two things you had never had the strength to deny yourself back in school. At the sight of the bookshop, you tug Nishinoya to a stop. You’re a little surprised when he actually does stop.
“Sorry, can we head in? I used to love this place back in school.” You nod to the bookshop. He smiles and lets you lead the way.
“I think that’s the first time you’ve done something selfish today,” he comments as you lead him in.
You refuse to meet that one with a reply.
The shop is exactly as you remember. High stacks of books, books, books everywhere. The scent of old books and a slight spice in the air, scents blending and mixing until, for just a moment, you’re in high school again, marveling at rare finds coming through the used books section and finding some new world to escape into.
You sigh into the scent and disappear into the stacks. Noya is kind enough to humor you as you pick through, find a title or two to take up to the register. If you really do come back to visit from time to time, you’ll have to make sure to stop in here when you do. The old woman at the register hasn’t aged a day. She smiles when she sees you the same way you’re smiling as you approach her.
“Is that little [name]?” she asks, though you both know she already knows the answer. “Why, I haven’t seen you around here in ages! You’ve grown so well!”
“It’s wonderful to see you again, ma’am.”
“Just as polite as you always were. Find everything you were looking for?”
She’s got a poster on the counter by the register. You steal a glance, then meet her eyes with a smile. “Sure did! I’m glad to see you guys are still here.”
Her smile turns bitter. “I’m not sure how much longer, I’m afraid.”
Ah. There’s the heartbreak, panic, fear. “What?”
“It can’t be helped. It’s getting difficult to watch this place in my age, and my Taka’s not been doing so well lately. The kids are all off worrying about their own lives now…”
Your chest twists at the thought. “Can’t you find help?”
“We’ve been looking, but…”
It cannot possibly be this easy.
There’s no way.
“But…”
Noya slides a few bills over the counter while you’re busy fighting a war in your head.
“Oh, and who’s this? You’ve got to introduce your boyfriend, dear.”
“Oh, he’s not—“
“It’s nice to meet you, Granny! I’m Nishinoya.”
Already, they’re spiraling off into some side conversation, too fast for you to make the obvious correction as the old lady makes your—Noya’s—change. She tucks a little bookmark into the front of the stack, and you slide your new books into your bag in resignation. It becomes his space as easily as it was yours, and somehow, it doesn’t feel wrong.
After you’ve left, you consider clearing the air, bringing up… whatever that was.
…it’s not worth the argument.
Another few shops, another few stops. Another few steps forward, another few hours, and yet again you’re sitting across from him, fretting over being underdressed at the restaurant you’ve both happened across and settled on.
“Are you sure we’re dressed alright?” you mutter.
“They let us in the door, didn’t they?”
…yeah, you don’t know what you expected him to say.
“Besides, you look great,” he adds. His eyes dance over you, over the bare skin on your shoulder where you’ve finally given up on pulling the neck of his shirt back up. “I think you wear that better than I ever have.”
You ignore him in favor of another menu, another decision to make that feels earth-shattering. At least you’re aware you’re being ridiculous when it comes to ordering. Really, what’s going to change if you get the fun-looking drink you might not like over the safe one? How bad would it really be if you didn’t like your meal that much?
Drinking too much. Discovering a new allergy. Food poisoning—
“You’re overthinking again,” he teases.
“I’m always overthinking,” you grumble.
“Maybe you need to take the edge off.”
He’s right, and you know that in theory. But in the practice and the day-to-day, you stare at the drinks menu and feel your chest constrict with that itch of anxiety all over again.
“You’ve just got to jump in before you can talk yourself out of it. Come on, [name], let me distract you a little.”
…you don’t think he’s trying to flirt, but your face feels hot all the same. And, well, shit, Noya is a great distraction. He’s a bit less keyed-up than he was back then, but he’s still endlessly charming, endlessly easy to get wrapped up in if you lower your guard even a moment.
“…fine. So what’s this you were saying earlier about Italy?”
His eyes light up. You rest your chin in your palm, glance over the menu again as he tells you about his dreams of traveling the world, how he wants to seek new thrills and see all these new things. You can see every potential disaster of the situation—for one, he has a house back home that someone’s going to need to care for while he’s away, and he doesn’t seem to have thought of that. For another, he’s got an inheritance and no passive income to work with. His grandfather’s leftover money may be substantial enough for this to work in the short term, but longer-term…
Well, one day, he’s going to run headfirst into a hole he can’t climb out of himself.
The thought scares you. Who’s going to be there for him when that happens?
The waiter stops by. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you pick out something alcoholic and fruity and try not to preen under Noya’s delighted approval.
“I’ve never seen you drunk before. Looking forward to it,” he grins. This time, you’re sure he means it flirtatiously, given the wicked gleam in his eyes.
You reach across the table to bat at his arm. “Keep looking, then. I don’t plan on getting drunk tonight. Just buzzed enough to put up with you.”
“Well, that’s no fun. I wanted to know what you’re like when you finally let loose.”
“Excuse you, I can be plenty fun without getting drunk off my ass.”
“Then let’s see it.”
Drinks come out, food orders are placed. You get your margarita halfway down before the buzz starts really setting in, a pleasant warmth blossoming through you. At least now when Noya makes your face hot with some offhanded comment, you can blame it on something other than your own weak heart.
“You know, this is the most adventurous thing I’ve done since I dated you,” you admit once you’re both walking back to the bus stop. Fully sober you would never have this conversation. You recognize that, but there’s enough pleasant fuzz in your head that for once you do not give nearly enough of a fuck to stop yourself. The night is warm, maybe even romantic. “This whole… running around, stopping at random restaurants, getting drenched in the rain without an umbrella. All that.”
He’s got this soft look in his eyes as he regards you. “Really? I can’t say I’m surprised. You were always worrying about everything.”
You snort. “Someone had to.”
“We were kids, though. You probably could have left at least some of that worrying to your parents.”
“Believe it or not, they gave nearly all of that worry to me. On purpose, I think.” You sigh, lean against him just a touch. Your balance never was all that great sober. “I had to be perfect. You were that one little blip.”
“Hey, it felt perfect to me.”
“Did I make a mistake, do you think?”
He looks a little wounded at that. To your credit, he’s definitely misinterpreting. “Dating me?”
“No. Leaving you.”
He pauses, an awkward motion that has you both stumbling just a bit. He’d drank over dinner, too—you’re both buzzed, and the bubbly, floaty feeling ebbs out as you stare at each other. “Why do you say that?”
“I just… I thought about it a lot,” you mumble. “What it would have been like. If I’d just stayed, instead of letting the thought of my parents scare me into running away.”
He huffs a soft laugh and winds his arm around your shoulder. “I thought about it, too. Come on. You don’t need to make it back to the hotel alone; I’ve got a guest bedroom you can use tonight. That, and I’ve still got your clothes.”
Oh. Right.
You nod and let him walk you back to his home.
~
“Have you figured anything out yet?” he asks as he finds another oversized t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts for you to sleep in. “Gotten even a little closer to figuring out how to do something you actually feel like doing?”
“I had fun,” you mumble in reply. “I know that much, at least.”
“Good. That was mostly the point.” He hands the clothes over to you. They’re more neatly folded than you would have given him credit for.
“Mostly?”
“Well,” he grins, “I also wanted to spend the day with you. Didn’t figure you’d ever agree if I didn’t drag you out before you could think about it too hard.”
“It was nice,” you admit. “Thank you. For all of it. I… I still don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow, though.”
“Is it so bad listening to what you feel like doing every once in a while, though?”
“If I knew what I felt like doing, maybe.” You linger awkwardly in his doorway, bounce your shoulder rhythmically against the frame. “You’ve got your work cut out for you if you think one day is gonna get me that in tune with my brain.”
“That’s why I asked you to come to Italy with me.” He tilts his head, some question lingering unspoken. “Try it now, though. What does [name] feel like doing right now?”
He’s close to you. Too close. He’s close, and pretty, and magnetic, and—
“[name] feels like doing something stupid.”
His grin widens. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Nishinoya Yuu, and I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I am pretty damn stupid.”
—fuck it. You grab him by the collar of his shirt and kiss him before you can talk yourself out of it.
He reciprocates in kind, an eager hand coming to settle on your waist like it’s been waiting to rest there all night. You kiss him hot, heavy, open-mouthed; let your hands slide from gripping his collar to locking loosely behind his neck. When you’re both out of breath, he pulls back and leans in to whisper into your neck:
“Why did you come here, [name]?”
It’s hard to think with his breath on your neck, his hands on your body leaving your skin on fire where he touches, but you are great at thinking and finally off the deep end enough to admit it.
“I wanted to remember what it was like to feel alive,” you breathe out into his ear. His lips brush your throat, and you let out a breathy whine. “You’re the only person who ever—who ever seemed to know how to do that.”
“Let me show you how to let go, then.”
There’s no illusions about what he means. Not this time, not with his lips dancing down your neck to your exposed shoulder. Not with his hips pressing into yours, not with his fingertips toying with the edge of his shirt you’re wearing, and not with his fingertips brushing the bare skin at your waist.
You nod and hope you won’t regret it.
~
If there’s regret to be had, you expect you’ll see it in the light of morning. As it is, Noya returns from the bathroom and collapses right onto you, a lithe arm pulling you into his chest.
“I’m glad you came back,” he mumbles into your hair. You’re both tired—it’s late, and that might have been the best workout you’ve gotten in a while.
“Because you missed me, or because you got to fuck me?” you tease, sliding a hand over his.
“I missed you,” he replies without missing a beat. “Not too late to come travel the world with me. Quit your job and feel peace for once in your life.”
“Peace? With you around? Not likely. Besides, I’m renting a place in Tokyo. I can’t meet rent if I quit my job.”
He laughs and pulls you in a little closer. “Then just Italy, and you can go back to the way you felt before you turned up on my doorstep looking more lost than I’ve ever seen anyone in my life.”
You sigh. “When you’re traveling the world, who’s gonna take care of your house? It doesn’t seem like you’re selling it, are you?”
“Italy, come home, we’ll break in the place, and then I’ll come home to you between trips while you work on writing an international bestseller.”
Your heart flutters at the thought. Admittedly… it’d solve a lot of the problems you have with his little “plan”.
“And how do you suppose I pay for being alive aside from not having rent?”
“Ask that old lady at the bookshop if you can help at the store.”
“Why do you have an answer for everything?”
“It’s okay if things fall into place once in a while, you know.”
You sigh into him. There’s too many unknowns. How is he going to keep paying for traveling? What if the book never works out? If there’s no space for you at the bookshop? If—
He nuzzles into your neck. “I’m waiting on an answer, baby…”
“It’s late, Noya. I’ll think about it.”
“Do me a favor and think yourself into something for once, instead of out of it. I might die if you leave again.”
He presses one last kiss into the back of your neck before you both draft off, sore and exhausted.
There’s one thing, at least, you can be sure of, at least for tonight: you’re glad you came here.
~
Epilogue
“You’re looking much better,” your coworker nods to you as you settle back into your desk. “Get some much-needed rest?”
You nod your reply. “I did, thanks. Sorry for disappearing so suddenly. That cold was killer. Think I slept about fourteen hours straight.”
She snorts. “Man, no wonder you weren’t answering your phone. Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
She wanders off to her own desk. You take a long sip of your drink, stretch a bit, and get right to your stupid little emails.
You tap away, pausing between sentences to consider, to answer the phone, to sip your drink. Occasionally, to tab over to some other draft when you worry a passing coworker might see exactly what you’re writing. At one or two points, over to your web browser, either to the wikiHow article you’re referencing, or to one of the many other tabs: your online banking, to confirm that this isn’t going to completely kill you (it won’t—all work and no play gives Jack a hefty savings account), or to any number of other wonderful things on the Internet that you suddenly feel comfortable accessing with the letter you’re drafting in the background.
It takes an hour to settle. The letter is drafted, all the right people are copied. You’ve triple checked everything, gotten all your things already slid into your bag or in a box to carry out with you. Made sure everything you need to leave behind is in clear view on your desk. You’ve even prepped an auto-response on your email client so people know who to bother, if not you. It’d take three, maybe four clicks to blow up your life.
You can’t do it.
You reach for your cell and dial.
Noya, despite all that worries you about him, has always been an early riser. He picks up on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Distract me,” you order in lieu of a greeting.
You hear laughter, a slight shuffle. “From what?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just distract me.”
“Ah, you’re doing something you don’t want to talk yourself out of. I’m proud of you!” You hear the smile in his voice, close your eyes to try to visualize it. “Am I allowed to ask what you’re up to? Where you are?”
“No and no. If I tell you, I’ll back out by the time I finish saying it.”
“I get it. Hey, do you still have that mark on your neck from when I—“
Your cheeks burn, fingers dancing along the bruise in question. It had been a bitch to cover with makeup this morning. You’re still not convinced you did so successfully, but no one’s commented on it yet, at least. “No thanks to a certain someone. I still can’t believe you did that.”
“Hey, you said you felt like doing something stupid. Who was I to deny you?”
“Cheeky bastard.” You smile, lean back in your chair a little bit. Click ‘send’. “Oh god. I did it.”
“Am I allowed to ask what you did now?”
“I might throw up. Not sure yet. Hey, how do you feel about renting bikes?”
“Bikes?”
“In Italy. I was looking up, like, bucket lists and stuff, and there’s this road, the Appian way? You can rent bikes and bike it. Apparently, it’s pretty old, and there’s this café we could eat at, and—“
You hear the thunk of something falling in the background of the call. “You’re coming!?”
“Well, I just emailed my resignation letter to my boss and HR, and I can see him panicking in his office from here, so you better have meant it. Here in a minute or two, he’s probably going to call me in, or come yell at me at my desk—“
“When’s your resignation effective? Did you give a notice?”
“Effective as soon as he stops panicking.”
A bark of laughter sounds in your ear. “So if he comes to yell at you, just leave. You already quit, anyway. What’s he gonna do?”
“Good point. Leaving now.” You stand, scoop up your bag. “I have two months left on my lease. If you didn’t mean that thing about me housesitting while you’re off seeing the world, speak now before I call my landlord and let him know I’m canceling that, too.”
“All yours, but your rent is walking around without pants whenever I’m home.”
You roll your eyes. Pause to wave at your boss on your way out the door. If he shouts after you, you don’t hear it. You’ve got a trip to Italy to plan.
Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory
If you'd like to be tagged, shoot me a message or an ask, or ask here in the replies, tags, or reblogs and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in (all works, all works specific to a character, all smut works, etc.). If your name appears on this list but is not underlined and you didn't get a notification, please check to make sure that your blog is NOT set to not appear in search results in your blog settings! If you've got that set that way for a particular reason, consider subscribing to the fic on ao3 for an equivalent update notification, as I always crosspost simultaneously! After three unsuccessful tagging attempts, you will be removed from the list.
As always, thanks for reading! <3
#nishinoya yuu x reader#yuu nishinoya x reader#noya x reader#noya/reader#nishinoya yuu/reader#my fics
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Assassin's Creed x John Wick Crossover
I'm on a fucking roll today. Okay, so:
Desmond Lives (that's a given) and the world is saved. Horray!
He has all his memories and POE-enhanced abilities.
He gets thrown back to the day he ran away from The Farm as a reward from Minerva. Assassins and Templars are still a thing but now both factions are in steady decline because of Isu Bullshit mucking up the past and future because of the Solar Flare messing up the POE and the Grand Temple that sent shockwaves from Desmond's sacrifice which completely alters the whole timeline.
He still likes to work as a bartender, cause he's good at it. Only now he also doubles as a bouncer, because he has a few issues due to instincts, some trauma and ptsd from his past to work through, that beating the stuffing out of rowdy assholes has become a wonderful outlet for. No one wants to cause trouble on his shift.
People start to talk about the teenage bartender with the sketchy past that beat the living daylights out of a brute of a tough guy harassing the staff and customers at the bar he worked at. Said brute of a tough guy was later found dead a few alleys over, inside the dumpster. (Eagle Vision tagged him red-gold, so very important. Very much needs to be dead asap.) They can't prove it's him, but they have a suspicion.
Turns out dead guy is- well, was in trouble with the Continental for doing business on Hotel grounds and had a hit out on his head. Somebody from the staff, happens to end up at the bar and hears about the rumors that their newest bartender was the one who did him in, sees said bartender in question and low and behold, Des is there being all sweet and charming the tips straight out of peoples wallets without a care in the world.
"No way... him? But he's so-?"
"Nice? Friendly? Looks like he couldn't hurt a fly? Yeah, I know. The guy you were looking for thought so too before he ended up tossed out on his rear. And then he ended up dead in a dumpster. Gary said he saw him follow after Des as soon as his shift ended. Thought the kid was a goner, but nope, came in the next day as fresh as a daisy."
So, the staff guy heads to work the next day and immediately lets Winston know about what he learned. Winton has a background check on Des to see if this is an up-and-coming mercenary and finds... nothing. This kid just appeared out of nowhere with the talent of a very skilled killer.
(The Assassins and Templars are either completely written off by most of the criminal underworld as fanatical cultists or are unheard of by a majority of the criminal population. They don't work with crazy cultists. It's just too much trouble.)
Winston, of course is very intrigued. Enough to give Des a chance and hire him to work at the Hotel bar. Talent like that should be nurtured, no?
So, Winston has Charon scout him out and offer him a business card saying if he's interested he could go work for them. And Desmond's boss and other fellow staff are all begging him to consider it because of the Continental's fame and prestige would mean he'd get better pay and even a better life other than serving drunks and rowdy frat kids in a hole in a wall his whole life. They like the kid, but they think he deserves better.
Desmond, meanwhile, thinks that the way the amount of people showing gold in his vision has been increasing since he started working there should have sent him running... But, his instincts have never led him astray before and they surely wouldn't now. So, he goes.
The premise of this whole idea is, Desmond goes back in time after the Solar Flare Fiasco of 2012, runs away to New York and ends up wrapped up in the John Wick universe, and proceeds to inadvertently turns the New York Continental and its associate businesses and partners into a modern-day Assassin Brotherhood without them or the High Table actually knowing it's an Assassin Brotherhood. (The Elder might know, but I'd think he's a Hidden One Sage allied with Minerva, whose glad her chosen has fulfilled his duty and is more than happy to let him have the Hotel.)
#another desmond lives au#because i will NEVER accept his death as canon#I was also rewatching John Wick 1-3 again cause I couldn't sleep#then i thought what if desmond worked at the continental in new york when he ran from the farm lol#winston and charon being his proud adopted dads#john would be his badass older brother who's obsessed with dogs#assassin's creed#john wick#desmond miles
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Third Date
Summary: Bucky, called out for a mission, ghosts Holly on his return, making her think he doesn’t care. When Sam comes to get her and take her to him he tells her what happened on the mission that affected Bucky. Before they can plan the third date there are things that have to be said.
Length: 4.1K
Characters: Bucky, Holly, Sam
Warnings: Angst, Bucky’s anxiety and negative self-talk, ghosting.
Author’s notes: I didn’t plan for this to become a therapy session but sometimes that’s where the writing takes you. Sam is kind of the voice of reason in this with his “just talk about it” attitude. Thought it fitting since he’s the one who composed and sent the original text asking Holly out on Bucky’s behalf. This is the final instalment of this story.
First date Second date
🌆 🌇 🌃
Holly
It had been almost three weeks since Ivy and I last saw Steve and Bucky. Pulled away on a mission just a few days after that amazing double date we had, meant that other than video calls or texts neither one of us had heard from the guys. About a week into the mission Bucky stopped calling. Then Ivy got a text from Steve a few days later that he was coming back in the next day. I had heard nothing from Bucky, and he didn’t respond to my texts or calls, which bothered me as I thought we had something really special starting. Two days after Steve’s supposed return, as I left work there was a truck parked across the street from the building and I recognized the man leaning against the truck. He waved, looked both ways then ran across the traffic.
“Hi, Holly,” he asked. “Remember me? I’m Sam Wilson, Bucky’s friend. We met at Coney Island. I’m here to get you.”
“I haven’t heard from him in a while,” I replied. “Steve came back, but Bucky hasn’t even called.”
Sam smiled sympathetically. “I know, and he’s sorry but something happened and he kind of swore Steve to secrecy. I think they’re both being dumbasses about it, so I made an executive decision. Do you want to see him?”
Maybe it was the sincere expression on his face or the fact he called both guys dumbasses, but something said I could trust Sam. I nodded and he guided me safely across the street, holding the door of his truck open for me. As I settled in while he started it, he glanced sympathetically at me.
“This was a really hard mission for Bucky,” he said. “One of the bases where he was experimented on in the 1950s was rebuilt and they were kidnapping kids, performing experiments on them against their will. This is classified, by the way, so don’t go telling anyone.”
“Is he alright?” I was worried now.
Even though I didn’t know all the details of when Bucky was held prisoner by HYDRA, I knew the basics; that he was experimented on, tortured and forced to kill for them. I could only imagine if he found kids in the same predicament how it might trigger his PTSD.
“He’s better but the whole thing took its toll on him,” said Sam. “He sometimes has a hard time dealing with the emotions it brings up in him. In fact, after they got the kids out, he went back on his own and started trashing the place. I mean literally tearing it apart and it kind of collapsed around him. He was trapped for a day which didn’t help matters. Steve, Thor and Tony were able to get him out, but he had injuries and spent the last few days in a healing cradle back at the Tower. He was released yesterday, and we encouraged him to call you but he’s sure you want nothing to do with him after he, well, ghosted you.”
“You care about him,” I stated. “He said you’re a major pain in the ass, but you do care.”
“I do tease him a lot and maybe I shouldn’t because it’s over things that he doesn’t know about, being a guy from the 1940s,” admitted Sam. “But I hate seeing him miserable and he’s miserable right now, thinking that he blew his chances with you.”
I didn’t say anything to that because I did feel like he ghosted me. Even though I was still mad, I was more disappointed that he wouldn’t let me know he had messed up. As Sam drove from Brooklyn towards Midtown, he asked me more about myself. We found some common ground as Ivy and I were from a fishing community, although we were from the west coast, and he was from Louisiana, co-owner of a fishing boat with his sister. As we got closer to our destination, I got the feeling he was also helping me calm down somewhat as he seemed to have the knack of affirming my negative emotions about being ghosted while encouraging me to be sympathetic to Bucky. I almost laughed when he pulled into the parking garage at Avengers Tower and parked the truck before giving me some advice.
“Just don’t beat him up too bad,” he said. “Tell him how his behaviour made you feel but give him a way to make amends for it.”
“You were a counsellor in a previous life, weren’t you?” I asked. “You’ve been preparing me to deal with him.”
He grinned and shrugged. “I counselled veterans for a time, but I did this because I like you and you make him happy. He still needs to own his mistakes, but he also needs to be led like a kid to see the brighter side of things.”
We entered the elevator, stopping at the lobby so that I could get registered for a friend security ID that would allow me to return almost any time. From there we went to another elevator, and he asked for a certain floor. A female voice came out of nowhere and greeted me by name. I looked at Sam, recognizing the voice from the car that Steve picked us up in for the double date.
“That’s the AI, Friday,” he explained. “You can ask her anything, and I mean anything.”
“Friday, should I forgive Bucky Barnes for ghosting me?” I asked facetiously.
“Sergeant Barnes is a man who still deals with his emotions like many men born at the same time as him,” said the AI, immediately. “It may seem frustrating to a modern woman that he would keep himself closed off, not wishing to inflict what he sees as his flaws on you. However, he is also loyal, faithful, sincere, and according to an analysis of masculine beauty standards is considered to fit in the higher percentile of attractive men, although he seems unaware of that. Based on those factors, forgiveness should be considered.”
I looked at Sam while he grinned at me. “I’m still thinking about it,” I said.
The doors opened to a floor, and we stepped out. There was a common room with a kitchen attached, as well as a large communal table. Several people were gathered around it and watched me as I got off the elevator. We turned in the other direction towards what I assumed were the living quarters. It was bright, large, and I had the feeling that the apartment I was going to was going to be considerably larger than the small flat that I lived in, the same flat that Bucky lived in just a few months previously. Knocking on one of the doors, Sam tentatively opened it and stuck his head inside then he stepped back out.
“Not there,” he said. “He’s not cleared for working out yet so he’s likely in one of his thinking spots. Back to the elevator. Friday, where is Sergeant Barnes?”
She told him and this time we took the elevator to the top, getting out on the roof of the Avengers Tower. I was expecting it to be cool and windy up there, but it was actually kind of nice and warm, without being hot. Sam told me where to go then he left me there. Taking a breath, I walked along the decking towards an assortment of patio furniture. Bucky was sitting on a lounge chair that looked out over the Manhattan skyline. As I approached, I could see that he was aware of someone coming closer.
“I said I don’t want to be bothered,” he called out, looking to the side. “Just leave me alone.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” I answered, and he jumped off the chaise.
“Holly,” he whispered. “How did you ….”
“Sam came for me,” I answered. There were all sorts of questions I wanted to ask him, but Sam had said to lead with how his ghosting made me feel. “You didn’t call or text, and I thought you were ending it with me, before we even had a chance to see where this goes. That really hurt, Bucky.”
“I’m sorry,” he replied, looking sad. “I was dealing with some things, not very well either, and I thought I could handle them by myself.”
“So I heard. You got hurt.”
“Yeah.” He looked down at his hands. I stepped closer but he stepped away. “I’m not worth it, not really.”
“Not worth what?”
He ran his hands through his hair, which had grown out a bit in the few weeks since I saw him. His stubble was noticeable, making me wonder if that was a super soldier thing.
“Love. I’m broken, Holly. When things get too much, I have a hard time. It’s not fair for someone as amazing as you to be tied down to someone like me.”
“I thought we were just dating,” I stated. “Kind of early for love.”
“Guys I served with got married after just a few days of dating,” he answered. “They were the lucky ones. Had someone waiting at home for them. I didn’t.”
“If you met me in 1940, would you have dated me?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he smiled. “I would have taken you to dinner and dancing. We would go for walks in the park, sit on the benches in the shadows and make out. I would have given you a ring, so you would wait for me. My therapist said it doesn’t work like that anymore. You need time to get to know someone, to find out if you can add them to your life.”
He looked out over the skyline, and I never thought I saw someone so beautiful as him, at that moment. There was something vulnerable, and hopeful, but also sad about him, how he kept himself deliberately apart.
“My last boyfriend said I would be prettier if I lost 20 pounds,” I said. “The one before him said I was too needy which was weird because I only saw him every two weeks and he always phoned me. Before him there were several that basically told me I didn’t measure up to their ideal woman. With you, I’ve only ever felt beautiful, and appreciated, and loved. You’re not broken, Bucky, not if you know how to make me feel like something to be cherished and you do. We all have baggage and not all scars are physical but they’re still there. The only thing that heals them is time and love. I have the time and I definitely have the love just waiting for the right guy to return it to me. I want that guy to be you.”
“Really? Even with only two dates?”
“When you know you know,” I smiled. “We can go on as many dates as you want before we say anything but I’m just asking that you don’t sabotage us by thinking you’re not worth it because you are. You’re definitely boyfriend material and maybe more with the right woman.”
He just stood there, looking everywhere but at me so I came closer until I was right in front of him. There are so many romantic movies that use the same trope of when the heroine, who’s been unlucky in love, finally finds the strength to confront the hero, who’s either been busy with saving the world or just not realizing that the woman who is looking up at him at that moment is the one who wants to be with him. I felt like I was in one of those scenes right then and there. The sun was low in the west, casting a golden glow over Manhattan. We were alone on a skyscraper and a light breeze was gently blowing the tendrils of my hair across my face. Bucky, so handsome, with his chiseled features and those eyes, those damn fine blue eyes that changed with his emotions, were bright but sad. We were so close together that I could feel the heat coming from his body. Right now, those eyes were looking at me as if I held his fate in my hands.
“I’m afraid of hurting you,” he whispered, then he lifted his left hand, looking at it as if it were something alien. “When I have a nightmare, I don’t know my own strength and I panic. I could really hurt you if I hit you.”
“When you slept over the last time we saw each other did you have a nightmare?” I asked.
“No, but I was pretty relaxed,” he admitted. “I often get my nightmares after a mission, especially ones that trigger memories for me.”
Raising my hand, I tentatively touched his left arm, running my hand down to his hand, then supporting it as I caressed his palm.
“One of my friends went through a tough time after she left an abusive relationship,” I said. “Touch was really difficult for her, and she had nightmares as well, horrible ones where she would cower into herself and not let anyone touch her. At first, we didn’t understand, and we would try to hug her against her wishes. She would hit out in a panic to keep us from touching her. I got a few black eyes and quite a few bruises from her hits.”
He was still letting me touch his palm and I ran my hand back up to his shoulder, feeling the seam of the metal where it met the flesh of his body. For several moments he tensed, and his breathing became a little erratic, so I stopped but left my fingers on the spot, gently circling it with just a single fingertip.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low.
“What we did for her to help her learn to trust again,” I said in my softest voice. “It wasn’t anything a therapist recommended. It was just something our circle of friends hoped would help. In a pleasant situation we started with little touches and caresses, while speaking gently to her, desensitizing her panic response. It took time but after a while when she had a nightmare, she was able to let us comfort her physically with hugs. The best part is that the panic attacks decreased.” His breathing had eased as I explained while still gently rubbing that circle on his shoulder. “I’m still touching the part of your shoulder where you reacted just a few minutes ago but now your breathing is normal and you’re not tense.”
I stopped but kept my hand there. He took a deep breath and looked up to the sky for a moment then back at me.
“I’m still afraid,” he said. “I like you so much and the thought of it becoming more is so appealing but if I hurt you, it will send me deeper into the darkness.”
“Then we have a safe word,” I suggested. “I know most people think of it as something sexual to draw a boundary so that a partner doesn’t go too far but it can also be used in a situation involving emotional upheaval, a way to say back off so that the person with you knows that you’re at the limit of your control.”
“Kind of hard when I’m still in between dreaming and waking up,” answered Bucky, then he became thoughtful. “Although, if I get the idea implanted in my consciousness maybe it’s something that I’ll be able to blurt out and you can get away from me.”
“A therapist can suggest it as a post-hypnotic command,” I mused, then saw the look of panic on his face. “Okay, or not. It might be something that we work on. If you’re really stressed after a mission, just send me a text with the word and I’ll know you’re not ghosting me, just dealing with things. I can respect that. When you’re ready I’ll be around. Just don’t shut me out, Bucky. It hurt.”
“I’m so sorry.” He wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my neck. “I missed you and I’m so sorry I let my fear keep me from talking to you.”
I squeezed him back, feeling the impact of his worry for me. It was obvious that I meant something to him. Just as I was about to tell him something he released me. His face was more alive as he looked down at me.
“We have to go out,” he said. “Third date. Anything you want.”
I looked out over the view from where we were.
“Can we just sit up here and watch the sunset first?” I asked. “I’ve never been on a building this high to see that before. Then, maybe we can go for pizza or something and go for a walk after?”
He smiled at me then and I felt like my insides had turned warm and mushy.
“We can do that,” he agreed.
He led me over to the assortment of patio furniture that was there. Arranging the pieces together so that we could recline and see the sunset he helped me on then sat beside me. With his arm around me, while basking in the warmth that I drew from his body it was almost perfect.
Bucky
I almost lost her; lost her before I could tell her how incredible she was. I almost lost her because I fell into my old trap of withdrawing into myself whenever it got too hard to deal with my past. As we were at that base, with the sounds, sights, and smells that I remembered from when HYDRA had me, assaulting me constantly while we dealt with the small army that was there, all I could think of was this wasn’t real. Real was falling asleep next to Holly on her couch, then waking up next to her when the sun poured into that tiny flat that had felt like a dormitory to me when I lived there. But Holly had made it a home, with plants and pictures, cushions and throw blankets that had me wanting to be there with her, more than I ever wanted to be there before. She did that, gave me a sense that I could have a future with someone, with her. Then I had to almost blow it by ghosting her because the pain of what we found in that base brought so much anger and fear; nothing that I wanted to taint her with.
As we watched the sunset; rather she watched the sunset while I watched her, I thanked whatever god there was that gave me Sam for a friend. Steve was willing to let me wallow in my misery, not wanting to impose his will on mine, thinking he was being kind. But Sam went right to what I needed. He went and got Holly, bringing her back to the Tower so that I could draw some strength from her. How could one woman be so strong, and make me feel so weak, but in a good way? Weak in that I wanted to please her, to follow her lead, to be vulnerable with her in a way that I never was before with a woman. That’s what I felt with Holly, not like the jacked up enhanced human that HYDRA made me but just a guy who thought he might be in love with this girl.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said as the sun dipped behind the buildings. “Different than a sunset over the ocean but beautiful just the same.” She noticed I wasn’t watching the sunset. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m agreeing with you,” is what came out of my mouth.
I meant to say that she was beautiful, but it got tangled up with her comment about the sunset. It didn’t matter because her face glowed as she blushed, and I felt it deep inside of me. As the sun sunk lower to the horizon, obscured by the other Manhattan buildings and the clouds spread out, the orange colour deepened then dissipated as the indigo blue of night seeped into the sky. The solar lights up top came on and we found ourselves in the dark, except for the little pools of white light that would guide us back to the elevator. I shifted to get up, remembering that I said we could go for pizza, but she put her hand on my chest. No words were required as I bent my head to hers and kissed her. The touch of her soft hands on my neck and hair felt like heaven while she tasted like honey. With my arms I pulled her close, wanting to mold my body to hers. Without even thinking I whispered to her.
“Stay with me tonight.”
It was too late to take it back, but I didn’t regret saying it. Being close to her in as many ways possible had already occurred to me before I regressed and her keeping me on this soft chair with her indicated that perhaps she felt the same way. She could have given me any number of excuses not to stay; work, no extra clothes, too soon … but none of those came out of her lips.
“Alright.”
That one word almost sent me over the edge. After all that I had done to sabotage our relationship from going any further she liked me enough (maybe even more) to say yes, to agreeing to stay with me. I would have asked her to marry me at that moment; following in the footsteps of so many soldiers in World War II who met and married the right girl in a few weeks or less. Then she made me laugh with her next words.
“Can we get the pizza first? I’m starving.”
“Me too,” I replied. “I haven’t eaten well since I started the mission. Come on.”
This time Holly let me help her off of the chaise and we walked, hand in hand, to the elevator. Just before we got there I stopped and caressed her face. An idea had formed in my mind, and I wanted to share it before we left the rooftop.
“I think I know the safe word, but I don’t want to use it to keep you away. I want you to use it on me so that I know you’re close and that you care about me and then maybe I’ll feel safe enough to stop panicking.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“Sunset,” I replied, looking back at where we had watched it together. “It will remind me of being here with you and feeling … loved.”
“Sunset,” she repeated, smiling softly. “I like that.”
We went down to the common room, partly to let them know I was better, but I also wanted the others to formally meet Holly. She showed me that Sam set her up with a friend's security ID that would allow her access to the Avengers level of the building, meaning she could drop in almost any time. Both Steve and Sam came to give her a hug and we sat talking with the others for a while. Then I stood up and took her by the hand.
“We’re going out for some pizza, somewhere close,” I said. “Kind of our third date.” She squeezed my hand and smiled at me, so I made a leap in logic. “You’re welcome to come with us, if you want. We can make an evening of it.”
“I should go pick up Ivy then,” said Steve. “Don’t want her feeling left out.”
We waited while the others got ready, and I leaned down close. “That’s what you signalled, right?”
A big smile crossed her face. “Yeah, I kind of want to get to know the people you’re around the most. That’s alright, isn’t it?”
“It’s perfect.”
It was perfect and I was actually looking forward to it, to being with Holly, and my friends. Being alone seemed easy but it wasn’t. It just isolated me further and now that I had Holly, I wanted more of what I once had; good friends, good times, and maybe one day, someone to come home to, someone to be my tether to life and love. By the time we got down to the street level and headed to the nearest pizzeria I knew for sure who I wanted it to be. With Holly’s hand in mine, I felt hopeful, and hope was a good thing.
If you liked this one shot please like, comment, or reblog.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#buckybarnes original female character#steve rogers#sam wilson#bucky barnes oneshot#dates with super soldiers#third date#ghosting#dumbasses in love
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So I have this headcanon for how the whole Mizuki’s siblings thing that happened in nirvana initiative, is this headcanon filled with plot holes? Probably yes, I last played the games more or less a year ago, so somethings here could be disproven by some detail I forgot about, that being said this is still just my headcanon, so I’m not too worried about that.
Also, Spoilers for AI The somnium files and AI The somnium files nirvana initiative
One of the many things that made me do a double take while playing nirvana initiative is the fact that Mizuki was not Shoko and Renju’s biological child, and was in fact adopted.
You know, the same Shoko that in the first game hated having a kid and felt stuck with Mizuki, and the same Renju that saw the abuse that his daughter was going through and decided to do nothing because he was busy.
Why the fuck would they adopt someone???
You can say they did it because of appearances or something else, but for me, it’s pretty clear that neither of them would want a kid. The first game made it seem that Mizuki was an accident, maybe even an unwanted pregnancy, that they decided to go through with.
Did Renju convinced Shoko not to get an abortion? Did they decide it was best to keep the pregnancy because of appearances? I don't know, but that was the vibe I had for their situation in the first game.
But then nirvana initiative happened and turn everything on its head. Now there is Bibi, and as much as I love her she doesn’t make sense, if she and Mizuki are science babies why do they look so much like Shoko???
I know this was a retcon, but that’s just looking at things at a meta perspective, I want an in story reason for it, so here is where my headcanon comes in.
Shoko had some connection with the Horadori institute, maybe even with the order of %
We don’t know much about Shoko’s past, just that her childhood has rough, that her mother treated her more like an animal than a kid, and that she was really ambitious. One of the thing she resents Mizuki for is that because of her, Shoko had to leave behind her career accomplishments.
Just to be clear, I don’t think Shoko was a member of the order of %. Maybe someone in her family was, and Chikara got to know her through them or something, but if not that, then she got in his radar by other means.
What I’m trying to say is, what if Chikara came to Shoko with an offer, be the surrogate mother for his experiment and he can make sure her business succeeds.
You could probably make a point that Bibi and Mizuki were lab raised babies. That the technology we see in the aitsf word could be able to do that, but what fun would that be?
So, young Shoko accepts the offer, makes an excuse to disappear for nine months and at the end of that Chikara has his supper baby and Shoko has her career guaranteed.
After a time Shoko and Renju get married and Chikara comes to the realization that his first super baby had some major flaws and wants to make baby 2.0.
Now, I don’t think Shoko would be too happy to do this process all over again, her business is going great and Renju is in the picture now, she can’t disappear for nine months without people getting suspicious, but Chikara gets her to agree, either by other offer being made or because of blackmail.
Their plan was the same, Shoko would “travel abroad” for some time, and when the baby was born she would be left alone, but this time things didn’t work out, Renju discovered the pregnancy and came to the conclusion that the baby was his.
This was a big problem, Shoko would probably want to stage a miscarriage, but I don’t think Chikara would let her, he would oppose any schemes that might put his new and improved super baby at risk, so they just went along with it. Renju was never around long enough to discover what was really happening either way, they would just have to make some adjustments, maybe fake the baby’s death in the future so Shoko could be free again.
Some sort of arrangement was made, Shoko would leave the baby in the institute and from time to time would take her home to continue the ruse to Renju. While in Chikara’s hands, Mizuki would be taken back and forth between the institute for tests and the orphanage to be look after while she was not needed. That's why everyone there thought that she was also an orphan.
Eventually things blew up with the institute, Chikara left the scene, leaving Shoko stuck with an unwanted kid.
Because of the lie they told the orphanage, Shoko had to tie some loose ends, like pretending to adopt your own daughter and other paperwork nonsense (maybe this was her first contact with the Kumakura’s? I don’t remember if that existed before the body change thing or not but making a deal with the mafia to make sure she wouldn’t go down with the institute would make sense).
And there you have it! Is it convoluted? Yes, but what in this game series is not?
This is probably so far from what Uchikoshi wanted, but if he can poke holes in the story so can I
Does it make sense? What do you guys think?
#ai the somnium files spoilers#ai the somnium files#aitsf#aini spoilers#ai nirvana initiative#nirvana initiative#shoko nadami#renju okiura#mizuki okiura#chikara horadori#mizuki date#mizuki kuranushi#bibi aitsf#this is just a headcanon#it's probably super wrong#but I think it's a fun one#It at least makes sense in my head#sorry for the ramble
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Mothman's Buffy Rewatch: Season 2, episodes 20 and 21, "Go Fish" and "Becoming (Part 1)
Go Fish
Buffy on da beach, what will she do
Who the fuck is this man where did he come from 😭😭
Gross! Bro just became the human globster (cryptozoology reference)
I swear I thought this episode was about the boys turning into fish monsters not being attacked by them
WHY ARE THEY STILL JUST LETTING WILLOW TEACH CLASS
"I like teaching!" "That's nice." My jaded teacher parents core
God I hate how terrible students get away with everything because they're good athletes
Cam needs to stfu
Ew he just asked her about wearing a bra
HE LOCKED THE DOOR KILL HIM KILL HIM
LMFAO GET HIS ASS BUFFY EXTREMELY DESERVED
"She totally led me on, look at the way she dresses!" God I hate him I hate him I hope he suffers
Buffy should have killed him actually
"Like an oreo cookie"
Yo is Cam about to get eaten?
Aw no he didn't :(
LMAO XANDER get him I love bullying Cam
Wait I think Cam did get eaten hell yeah
Damn Cordelia can draw? Good for her
"Good this is so sad. We're never getting the state championship" honestly yes that is sadder than the death of a sexual harassing misogynist lmao
"What? No. I just snuck in yesterday and peed in the pool." LMAO??
WHY DOES ANGELUS HAVE TO SHOW UP EVERY SINGLE EPISODE GOD
Welp he stole the monster's lunch
Nevermind the chlorine was too much for him
Oh it's steroids not chlorine woopsies
"Okey Dookie coachy"
OH WAIT IT IS ABOUT THEM TURNING INTO FISH MONSTERS I KNEW I REMEMBERED IT FOR A REASON
THE STEAM IS STEROIDS? shit Xander is in danger
Damn i thought ghe nurse was evil but just the coach ig
WHAT THE FUCK HE THREW HER TO THEM
I hope this end up eating the coach. I think they do but I don't remember this episode very well
"After the fall of the Soviet Union..." what. Stop it this is my break from history class man
"They've already had dinner. The boys have other needs." EW FUCK YOU FUCK YOU
Cordelia still caring about Xander when she thinks he's a fish man is sending me. Character growth!!
Yeah get him Xander!
BUFFY LET HIM GO !! Let him get eaten
They just let the monsters go free into the sea 😭
Becoming (Part 1)
Angel with the fuckass sideburns
I do not CARE about Bangel GRAH
Xander is so goofy with the nuggets
"Don't touch me you have fish hands!" Actually no he got cured last episode
Aw poor Drusilla :(((
It's so sad knowing how drusilla ends up :( all she wanted was to be good
"Wah, this doesn't make any sense!" She's just like me fr
Willow being firm is always so nice to see in earlier seasons
They found the disk yippee
Angelus getting bullied into having a soul by an old woman
Willow was researching the black arts... the beginning of the end (I love witch willow she's my bestie)
Xander what angel does as angelus isn't his fault 😭😭 don't get me wrong I hate regular angel but like. Don't blame him for that
KENDRA IS BACK!!
Goofy ass statue
Ok why do they want to make the entire world go ro hell. What is the point
This bitch taunting fhe soulfull vampire 😭😭
WAIT HE BROUGHT ANGEL TO SEE BUFFY????
"Oh, not the heart"
Damn Hank sounds cringe
"She's just a kid!" *proceeds to date her*
Heartwarming!!! Angelus fucking fails !!!
THE WOMAN JUST COMING INTO THE CLASSROOM AND SETTING HERSELF ON FIRE OM CRYING WHAT
Hell yeah its Mr. Pointy!!!
Immolation-O-Gram
WHY DID ANGELUS LOOK SO GOOFY WHEN HE SAID ALRIGHT LETS FIGHT bro was waving his arms around like a goofball
Dropped a bookshelf on Willow :(
I'm so glad the library I work at does not have vampire fights
Buffy stake him while he's monologuing
Why did they have to get Sarah Michelle Gellar's stunt double to run across the road
What is dru doing to Kendra lmao
THAT ONE TINY SCRATCH KILLED HER?? can someone confirm if she hit a major artery or if the writers just goofed
IT DIDNT EVEN BLEED THAT MUCH? if it was a major artery it would have bled a lot more surely 😭
Buffy gets arrested not clickbait
#mothman's buffy rewatch#buffy the vampire slayer#btvs#buffy summers#willow rosenberg#xander harris#rupert giles#cordelia chase#angelus btvs#kendra btvs
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Toy headcannons?🙏🏻
okay in general? oh gosh this is gonna go ALL over the place so... strap yourself in kiddos this is gonna be a ride :) kept this one sfw 😌
But ***MINORS DNI*** ***18+*** cause tgu is 18+
Toy is just a sleepy little bean. They’ve never slept well and will usually wake up a lot during the night. The only time they really sleep okay is when they have Yelena, Wanda, Kate, or Natasha with them. Anytime Toy is home with their little brother, they barely sleep because they want to stay awake and protect Carson.
Toy, even though they hate college and their job, is one of the hardest workers you’ll ever meet. Their father had a great work ethic, along with the training from WandaNat, Toy puts everything they can into everything they do. Toy is double majoring in Forensic Behavioral Science and Biochemistry. They honestly aren’t entirely sure what they want to do, but they were excited to get into something that they believed would make their father happy and the family.
Speaking of Toy’s job, they have a job at a private company–a small PI agency . Kate absolutely despises the company and wishes that Toy would just quit. WandaNat are… sort of on the edge of this but only because they know that they would never quit.
Toy and Yelena being best friends has been the best thing to ever happen for Yelena but has been just pure chaos for Natasha. The two of them constantly tease and mess with Natasha.
Toy has an OBSESSION with juice (look at me projecting again). Any time anyone needs them to calm down the first thing they do is get them a juice box and their iPad.
Toy, just like Kate, is an iPad kid. They need to be listening to music 24/7/365 and they are the iPad kid that asks if you have games on your phone.
Toy walks around singing TikTok sounds literally all the time–though they don’t do the dances like Kate does.
They will just about do anything–be down to do any random ass thing– if you promise to buy them a snack/fun thing
Toy likes to buy Avenger’s merch–but its rarely WandaNatKate’s. Instead Toy walks around in other’s merch just to tease them
Toy LOVES fall! It’s the best time of the year and has the BEST holiday! Halloween! Toy goes ALL out during halloween. If you aren’t in the halloween spirit then Toy doesn’t want to be in your presence during that time.
Toy knows how to drive–only because Natasha said they HAD to learn.
If something looks comfy to Toy- they lounge. The floor seems comfy–lay down and just roll around. The counter–crawl onto and squirm around until comfort. A bookshelf–curl up until they fit. While they are rolling around on the floor, under the couch looks comfy–wiggle until they can fit and just plop to take a nap.
#kitmoas writes#k: TGU blurb#k: training grounds#marvel fanfiction#wanda maximoff#kate bishop#marvel wlw#natasha romanoff#wandanat#wanda maximoff x reader#kate bishop x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#yelena belova
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The Owl House Season Three Thoughts
Probably my dumping ground for season three talks. *shrugs*
You can read my general thoughts on the first two season here: https://neoyi.tumblr.com/post/698412600252366848/neoyi-neoyi-neoyi-neoyi-neoyi
"Thanks to Them" spoilers.
It was abundantly clear by the latter half of season two that the creators had to introduce, establish, and progress major plots and character developments within the last ten or so episodes because of Disney's screw-up. It's a damn miracle it ran as efficiently as it did.
Apparently they had to alter the plot by that point, which does explain why it didn't feel overstuffed as I thought it would be. Sure, a couple of things feel clumsily inserted (the Collector's presence is an abrupt introduction than a gradual foreshadowing of What Was To Come), but for the most part, they altered its course pretty damn well.
Time will tell if Dana Terrance will be able to finish the show off given what little she was forced to work with (man, I do not blame her for feeling angry), but season three's opener "Thanks to Them" is a good indicator of what may be to come: simultaneously stuffing the episodes with as much content as they needed in the most economical way possible.
It's really, really, reaaaaaaaaaally evident in the beginning montage how many shit they had to squeeze in within just two minutes: Luz coming out to her mother, the kids trying to create a new portal door, the witch kids trying to blend into Earth and its customs, Hunter suffering PTSD and getting an Important Haircut to try and be his own person, the feckin' rain that the kids can experience without fearing for their lives?
All of these are worth their own episodes. We'll never get time for Gus to truly take in the human world. That's several episode plots right there. We'll never see Hunter gradually getting possessed by Belos with cliffhangers and plot twists that would have left us aching to know what happens next. We'll never get Camila and Luz having heart-to-heart once the latter comes out.
It's a really adorable montage of What Could Have Beens.
I want to believe Dana Terrance, knowing she owes Disney nothing now that her show is cancelled, means she's going to be like, fuck everything, and come right out, ON-SCREEN, to say that Luz is bisexual as fuck. I mean, what's Disney gonna do? Cancel the show some more?
This is so unapologetic, as it should be. (Also double props to Camila who wears a pride rainbow badge afterward. A++ mom.)
I love how far Vee has come that she's not only familiar with Earth custom and is able to guide the witch kids, but has developed a human identify of her own. She has to hide what she is to the public, but not who she is to people close to her.
Even their version of the Duolingo Owl is as persistently demonic as ours.
It's sweet to see the witch kids and Vee learning Spanish. Luz took the time to learn the Boiling Isle's culture, it would make sense they want to do the same with Luz's heritage.
Man, these kids have some choice fashions.
I forgot Hunter was trying to sew the Golden Guard's crest episodes back until I did a rewatch and got to that episode. So what a nice callback here where he's using Camila sewing machine to make more patches! I cannot believe this fucking kid made his own version of the Three Wolves Howling At Moon shirt. Of course he thinks wolves are Cool and Mystical. What a goddamn dork.
THE GODDAMN GIRAFFES. Like did it show off its true face because it recognized the witch kids as from the Boiling Isles? Surely, many humans have taken pictures of this creature that if it had made the same horrifying face, someone would have noticed and said something by now. (Then again, that shitty conspiracy guy was correct in his suspicion, sooo...)
Damn, these kids are fashionable as fuck.
Gooooood, this is such a cute, heartwarming scene. Every time something bad happens to this kid, I want to wrap him up in a blanket and give him hot cocoa. And now, he finally has people who would and likely has done that for him (Camila would definitely give him a blanket and a nice meal.)
This is probably the safest Hunter's been since he found out about Belos. And even before then, his entire life was built to be a soldier and personal assistant to a kingly figure. I don't know how Belos treated him, but I doubt it was the kind of warm and sincere comfort Luz, her friends, and her mother has been giving him since their time on Earth. I don't think Hunter has ever had to experience just lying in bed, reading nerdy books and relating to its characters, and sewing just because he wants to sew the things he likes and not for the role Belos gave him since birth.
He's finally found an identity for himself, free of Belos. And it's because he IS Hunter, and not Phillip's brother-clone, that he's able to free himself from Belos' influence at the end. This kid went through the best character development in the entire damn show and he's a dumpster fire who deserves hugs and cookies.
Ahh, I see Luz has good taste in indie games.
Masha's non-binary colored nails are on point. Did they always have them in their first appearance or was this added for season three? Need to check sometime.
Ahh, THIS explains why Flapjack was drawn to Hunter.
So this episode completely recontextualized the relationship between Luz and Camila and I was not prepared for it. I just thought Camila didn't get Luz, tried to figure out a solution, and handled it wrong.
I was not expecting Camila to have also grown up as a nerd, outcast and bullied in her youth, with fears of her daughter going through the same. I wasn't even sure if Luz's father would have even played a part in their story or was just background, but he did and now we get why their relationship was slowly starting to falter because grief fucking sucks and it causes you to cope in different, and sometimes not often good ways.
It's heartbreaking to see Camila, who so loved Luz's eccentricity, cave into the criticisms of judgmental adults. Given she's always stood up for Luz in the latter's youth, I think she collapsed and just gave up when her husband died.
Meanwhile Luz had an outlet brought about by her favorite book series (now much more meaningful because it came from her father), but overcompensated and unintentionally caused problems in school and her social life.
It explains a lot of the earlier hints in previous episodes where we see Camila still embracing and amused by Luz's creativity, but also contradicting it with concerns against it. Everything makes sense now and together, they can finally work to heal and grow.
I love how blatant the animation took a huge bump up for the Witch kids vs. Possessed Hunter fight. I'm especially impressed by Possessed Hunter's lip sync. The way his mouth moves is particularly nuanced compared to the usual way its animated.
I honestly thought they got James Baxter to guest animate. It just feels like he'd be the guy who would do stuff like Willow grabbing one of Possessed Hunter's arms and twisting it around like that, but apparently someone else animated this? Whoever you are, I salute you.
Man, I thought Belos was paste by "King's Tide." Sure, there was that hint when one of his goop landed on Hunter's shoulder that brought him to Earth, but I was maybe expecting one of those Last Remnants Of Him With No Mind To Take Final Revenge kinda thing.
In any case, it was important for him to come back so Hunter can finish his personal journey. He had to be the one to fight and tell Belos to fuck off and finalize himself as an individual person.
Okay, so I first thought it was cheap that Flapjack revived Hunter. You'll have to forgive me, I tend to be weary of Cheap Deaths and tend to approach them with great caution. Then I remembered that Belos regularly absorbed palismens in order to keep going. It's probably how he's lived for centuries.
Pailsmen can do that. They can GIVE life to humans/witches. Hunter's situation is the complete opposite of how Belos handled it where Flapjack willingly gave his own life instead of having it taken away from him.
Man, I was not prepared for them to kill off Flapjack! And like Hunter has his eyes. So is Flapjack a part of him now? Are all magic-users bonded to one palismen in their lives or can they get more? Is that it for Hunter? No more familiar for him? Why does palismen have the ability to give their lifespan? Is it just in their nature to help their creators? There's a million questions I have on palismen biology, but I digress. Somebody get Hunter hot cocoa and a blanket, damn it!
Amity is a patient girlfriend. I think Luz has lied or kept like three major secrets from her (and her friends) by now.
Awwww yeah, Camila is coming to the Boiling Isles. This is the absolute BEST solution to anything because she's gonna wreck shit up!
I like that the show validates Vee's decision to stay out of the battle. She's still working through her trauma and deserves a safe spot to cope and live.
I did kind wished they left out the car keys joke at the end. It's cute, but a mild mood killer.
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I think there is a paragraph missing during the interview scene with the hospital director if you choose "Nursing" as your major? Since I remember previously if you had "Biology" as your major, MC would be able to ask a specific field-related question.
Do you plan to add a light mode, by the way? With white background and black text, or something similar? I tried to choose the closest thing to a light mode in themes but it didn't work.
Also, bro, Tama is something else 💀 "I don't want them (Courtney) to touch what's mine"? Bro, we are best friends, what's going on with you??
MC also got injured at the alley scene but it wasn't mentioned again? The talk on the bench with Tama also felt like these two were lovers or ex-lovers than best friends like I chose, since they talk of their "relationship". It just felt at odds with the previously chosen dynamics.
I love Tama but holy crap, dude. Simmer down a bit. The kid just had their stalker ex basically kidnap them and corner them in a dark alley!
Aside from that, I surprise-laughed at Jun punching MC in the stomach and MC getting knocked onto their back and unable to stand up. I did not see that one coming. Faizan to throw MC over their shoulder for touching them? Sure. Jun to suddenly appear and suckerpunch them? NO.
A spiteful part of me wished MC throw up on their shoes though, because Jun didn't know their strength (YOU KNOCKED A GROWN PERSON FLAT ON THEIR BACK WITH A SINGLE PUNCH??) and MC was woefully unprepared (and already feeling ill for different reasons by then) for it.
I had to go double-check all those passages and I forgot to add additional paragraphs 🥴🥴
I typically work in Word, so when I write my different variable choices, I try to write the connecting/follow-up right underneath it. BUT I also end up writing the choices altogether. Which causes a lot of confusion for me. I've started to color code the corresponding passages, so hopefully, that helps me better organize and make sure that paragraphs are fully finished and completed before I publish and transport into twine. Cause once its in twine, I focus solely on coding.
And ooop, I thought I had a theme on there called "A White Space" that was supposed to be white? I'm having such trouble making the passages white, I'm gonna have to go back to the drawing board for that one 🥴🥴🥴. Essentially it's coming, I just gotta figure it out.
Now in terms of the Tama Talk, which one are you specifically referencing? Is it after you eavesdrop, or is it when you met Jin + Faizan? I'm guesstimating that it's the conversation Tama has with you about Courtney, which highkey needs to SUPER revised.
I don't want to spoil too much, but I will say that there's a reason Tama reacts like this. It's about 70 percent not what you think it is and about 30 percent SPOILERS. Also, nonnie... did you send the ask about the Tama theory 👀👀 i wanna publish it but I'm slightly nervous.
And LMAAAOO, Jin is... special. Y'all will find out how later on. His character is semi-important to Yue's route, and partially to Faizan's.
Other than that, thank you so much for the ask~~ I love seeing peoples feedback and views on the characters and the game.
#a trial of horror#if wip#twine game#interactive fiction#ch: tama shirosaki#ch: jin yeong#atoh#anon response#twine#interactive game
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The Japanese Book, American Movie Connection
It's hard to find many Japanese books translated into English that aren't manga. Nothing against manga, I just wish more novels made their way over here. If you're interested, here's two books worth your time and one that's not Japanese, but you'll see why I included it here.
Bullet Train
Have you seen the movie Bullet Train yet? Great movie. Brad Pitt does an excellent job playing the unlucky (but really lucky), bumbling criminal. (Fun fact: the director, David Leitch (John Wick, Deadpool 2, Atomic Blond) was Brad Pitt's stunt double before he became a director.) When I saw the trailer I looked up the movie and saw that it was an adaptation of a Japanese book. So before I talk more about Bullet Train, I need to talk about a book I first read in 2014 and then re-read this year (yeah, I know, for someone who said he never rereads books, I sure reread a lot this year).
All You Need Is Kill
In 2014 the movie Edge of Tomorrow came out. Interestingly, the DVD release would change the title to Live Die Repeat: Edge of Tomorrow. As in most cases, the book usually gets it right and they should have stuck with the original book title, All You Need Is Kill. What a great name. But I can see why they wouldn't think it would work well as a major motion picture movie title.
So, in 2014 Edge of Tomorrow was released and some neighbors came back from seeing the movie (opening weekend, I think) with the above pictured book. Knowing I was interested in seeing the movie and that I was a sci-fi fan, they gave me the book. At first I thought it was one of those movie novelizations, but quickly realized it was the actually the book the movie was based on. First off, how awesome is that?
If I had one Christmas wish it would be that every time a movie was made from a book, the studio would give out free copies of the book with every opening weekend ticket. I can tell you I'd see a lot more movies in the theater if they did that.
So, I read the book and instantly fell in love with it. I went and saw the move and loved it as well. While the movie was different, I felt like they did a good job sticking to the spirit of the book. I wish the movie would have ended about 10 minutes earlier, without the Hollywood ending, so it would have been closer to the book ending, but that's okay. I get it.
So, back to Bullet Train. I had plans with some friends to go see the movie and I quickly read the book before we went. The book was great, but there was one character, The Prince, that really bothered me. He's this psychotic tween who manipulates everyone in the book. That's not actually what bothers me. What I didn't like was he'd have these long internal and external monologues about morality and how he was so much superior to everyone, and blah, blah, blah. Way too much ink was spent on these thoughts of his.
The movie didn't have this and The Prince, gender swapped and played by Joey King, wasn't nearly as annoying. And this is one of these rare instances where I'm going to say that the movie was better than the book. I still enjoyed the book, but the move was way more fun.
But this leads me to my third book.
Shibumi
When we first meet The Prince, she is reading a book called Shibumi. I hadn't heard of this book, but the cover reminded me of the cover to Shogun, which I remember my dad reading when I was a kid. I quickly jotted down the name of the book and looked it up later.
Shibumi may be my favorite new book I read this year. It was definitely the most unexpected. The author of Shibumi simply goes by the name Trevanian. As it says on the cover of my book, Trevanian was the only writer of airport paperbacks to be compared to Zola, Ian Fleming, Poe, and Chaucer.
Upon researching the book and the author, I was very surprised to learn that Shibumi was a best selling book when it was released in 1979 and between 1972 and 1983 Trevanian had five books all sell over a million copies each. Having been born in 1972, its no surprise I hadn't heard of him, but given how good the book is, and how much praise the author gets I'm surprised I hadn't heard of him until now. But I think that's all going to change. I think we're about to have a small Trevanian resurgence.
The book is being adapted into a movie. The screenplay is being adapted by Matthew Orton, who wrote episode one of Moon Knight, and it's being directed by Chad Stahelski, who has directed all three John Wick movies, as well as the upcoming fourth one. But this isn't his first movie adaptation, he also write The Eiger Sanction in 1972, which was adapted into film in 1975 starring and directed by Clint Eastwood.
Through all the success Trevanian had no one ever knew his actual name. It was a lot easier to keep your identity hidden before the internet came along. Trevanian's real name is Rodney William Whitaker. What's even more fascinating to me is that Whitaker didn't stick to one genre, even with his pen name, Travanian, he published under several different genres.
But here's the thing that impressed me. Shibumi is satire. It's such a subtle satire that it frustrated the author because most people didn't get it. I have to admit when I first started reading it I thought, "wow, this is over the top 1970's macho spy stuff." Then after a few more pages, I thought, "that can't be right, this is too well written." The text isn't subtle, but the satire is. If you want a good laugh, read the hundreds of one-star reviews on Goodreads and you'll see just how much people miss the mark on this book.
#tacs 2022 books#tacs 2022#goodreads challenge#edge of tomorrow#all you need is kill#bullet train#the book was better#the movie was better#shibumi#trevanian#book review
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Just found out about the shinjuro x nanny reader on Ao3 and realized it was a one shot. Is there going to be an epilogue to it??? It was soooo good and erotic I didn't even find Shinjuro interesting before this. ( not by that much TBH) but🤷♀
Idk ab an epilogue but I did give a brief aummary of future events on my ao3 wen someone asked ab this too 😂
I'll copy and paste it
"I may do a part 2 muuuuuuuuch later but i can give you a brief summary (with a grain of salt bc i may make slight changes if i do make a part 2, but it should generally be the same)
Rengoku and Sen are fine! If anything i think they'd be excited to have a new momma, although they would probably also be a little concerned as well since their dad treats you... strange... and they notice how you tense when the man touches you - none the less they do like you and know that you aren't trying to replace Ruka
Shinjuro becomes a better father... kinda... he's still kinda mean and bitter but at least hes giving his kids attention and the such
You tell your fam of the situation - you've had a change of heart and are marrying the flame hashira; your family is actually ecstatic ab this because of his nobility, though his personality and attitude are god awful towards them, they think the marriage to be advantageous, especially for you who was lucky to be married at all at your age (you are considered old at that time period despite being quite young in nowadays standard); you never see your old fiance ever again
Oh boy, your pregnant alright, with twins in fact, Shinjuro is quite proud of himself, thinking the doubling of babies was cause by his daily breedings of you (yah, thats not how it works dude but alr)
Youre not exactly the nanny for the boys anymore, sure you occasionally take care of them with playing and eating with them, but most of your old chores are given to new housemaids, now your only true job seems to be to tend to your new "husband", he wants you with him at practically all times of the day when he isn't on a mission (until he retires), mostly sexually - i wont go too much into detail but the man looooooves to be cockwarmed, mostly with your pussy but he doesn't mind your mouth from time to time
i think he would keep you pregnant for as majority of your birthing years after that... forming his rengoku army lol
Its not exactly the ending you wanted or expected but hey 🤷♀️ this is your life now"
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All Rise: Season 3 Review
I’m so... vastly... disappointed in this season, to be quite frank.
I adored the first two seasons, the show quickly shot up to be my favorite currently ongoing TV show back then.
And even during those two seasons, I spent them in a state of tense suspense about Lola and Mark; I’ve seen what heteronormativity does to a perfectly fine TV show where the man and the woman were perfect as friends (looking at New Amsterdam in particular here). I feared they may kiss/cheat or that the show would just kill off Lola’s husband, give them a bit of a mourning phase and then make Mark/Lola a ship (again, looking at New Amsterdam here).
So that didn’t happen in season 3 either but damn they somehow managed to something worse?
Not only that they recast Robin with an actor who has... zero... chemistry with Lola, just at all, no, they newly introduce the “college sweetheart” and we spend the majority of the season watching Lola pine for this new character, have sex dreams (and, what’s infinitely worse, marriage and kids dreams) about him and then we end the season with her kissing that guy?
Which, the hypocrisy of that is driving me up the wall on its own if we consider the slut shaming that she did with Mark, when Mark got kissed against his will? She kept calling his lips slutty, she literally slut-shamed him for a non-consensual kiss that he shut down after. I always hated that, because she was supposed to be Mark’s best friend and her behavior around that was incredibly gross, made worse by the fact that she did not slut-shame her other best friend, aka the woman who did the kissing, the woman working with Mark’s girlfriend at the time, knowing full-well that Mark was in a relationship. But her? No, not her, Lola only slut-shamed Mark.
And now she’s the one kissing other guys. Sure, he was the one initiating the kiss, but so damn slow she could have backed out. And after all that pining.
I hate this. I hate nothing more than cheating plot-lines and now you are ruining this character that I love and this show that I love and it’s pissing me off beyond the moon.
And on top of that? The way the queer rep on the show got treated this season was just nasty.
I always loved Lisa’s character and was so happy when she finally got a girlfriend. And then this season sees her written off the show, which also obviously writes her girlfriend off the show, losing not one but two queer characters. Sure, Lisa had some special guest star moments, but it’s just not the same and Georgia didn’t come back at all.
The season 2 finale saw Sam and Ness kiss each other and I got excited about them doubling the wlw representation, and with two major characters this time around too!
And season 3 saw Sam written off entirely; Lisa at least had the guest appearances but Sam’s just... gone. And with her that entire plotline. Queerness does not come up around Nessa at all... if Nessa is even in it, because she was barely in this season too.
And then we end the season with a literal knife to the gut for Ness, their one remaining queer character (not that it’s been acted upon beyond that one kiss in season 2), leaving her potentially to die and be written off the show too.
Which, chances are quite high, considering that this finale left us with three majorly injured characters (all... characters of color, if I might add that). And it looks like Luke is going to pull through, so there’s about a 50/50 chance for Ness if they need the drama of her death or if they let her live.
I just... I’m just disappointed all around?
They went in their queer rep from 4 to... zero, basically, with nothing queer happening on-screen at all (i.e. dates, kisses, meeting someone, heck, just talking about their sexuality/partners).
And they chose to make their leading lady cheat on her husband, after spending a season of straining her relationship with said husband - which was, might I add, actually a really truly beautiful relationship in seasons 1 and 2.
This is genuinely the worse turn I’ve seen any show that’s been picked up after a cancellation take.
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