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yellow-berrys · 1 year

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he's like that | sirius black x fem!reader

summary: Sirius Black is colder than ice, and you are not. where you slowly melt down his cool physiognomy and find your way into his heart. all good things come slowly, and surely. fluff.

warnings: references to an abusive household, disowning, alcohol, food.

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Sirius Black was not the friendliest person you had ever met. In fact, his general disposition was somewhere middling carelessness and ice, a combination many people found irresistible. Sirius did have emotions, though. You had seen him laughing with Marlene, one of your best friends. When you had bounded up to her to talk with them, he vanished.

Oh, he was an enigma, that one. One time, he was in the library, laughing with Remus. You had waved to Remus and he had stopped laughing. You frowned and Remus rolled his eyes, walking up to you.

“He’s like that. I’m sorry.”

You had waved him away, “It’s okay, Remus.”

And that time in Charms left you bitter about him.

Flitwick had ordered you to partner up with Sirius, and you had. He hadn’t spoken a word to you, never.

“Now, class,” Flitwick had noticed your very one-sided conversations, “Remember that no matter what, you must all get along. I don’t understand, we’re all from the same house here. Well, except me. But not all of us can be intellectually gifted. Now swivel and tap!”

Sirius still didn’t spare you a glance. Shrugging, you remembered Remus’ words.

You were great at Charms and socialising anyway, you didn’t need some no-good, high and mighty aristocrat to excel. You caught the eye of Lily, “Wanna get out of here?”

“Sure.”

“Professor,” you raised your hand in the air, “May Lily and I be excused for prefect duties?”

Flitwick was very kind, “But first, please show me the Protego charm.”

You both casted it flawlessly and he nodded, “Have a nice day.”

“You too!”

Sirius just rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry about Sirius, he’s like that.”

“Not your fault, Lils, I don’t mind.”

“It’s never personal.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Early start on Transfiguration?”

“Sounds good.”

“He is just like that, you know.”

“I know,” you said as you sat into your Transfiguration seat, taking out some parchment and beginning to write. People filed in soon enough.

Sweeping a glance of your whereabouts, you caught the eye of Sirius Black seated close to you, who was currently grinning at the mess of Lily’s hair he had just made casting a spell to straighten it. Immediately his grin was wiped off, replaced by an indifferent stare, but your eyes kept moving. They found the deep brown of Marlene, who just smirked at you in an attempt to look cool as a cucumber for Dorcas.

The class was usually interesting– McGonagall always had the most rigid and demanding lesson plans, but she filed in with a murderous gaze today.

“Jeez, she looks like she’s on a warpath,” James whispered to Sirius.

“Yes Mister Potter,” McGonagall drawled, “In fact I just found a sixth year frolicking in the corridors, they had the nerve to talk back to me! Nice to see you Miss Smith, how’s the knee?”

“Well, thanks Professor,” Gertrude Smith adjusted her cast underneath the table.

“Right, page 679 of Transfiguration Advanced, I want you to pair– would you stop causing that ruckus, Mister Malfoy! And Miss Brathburt, please readjust your tie! Where was I at, yes, I will put you into pairs seeing as you, Miss Holt, cannot stop chatting. We can talk about Potions later, yes I can hear you Mister Crabbe. Your goal is to turn a piece of the other person’s hair curly and turn it back. Make sure to flick, not swish, contrary to Charms, Mister Black, we don’t want to cause a static mess. I dread to see what your Charms work is like.”

As she spoke, she flicked her wand in the direction of Lily and her hair went impossibly tidy.

“Mister Potter and Miss Mckinnon. Mister Malfoy and Miss Meadowes. Mister Pettigrew and Miss Brathburt. Miss Holt and Mister Lupin. Miss Smith and Mister Gerard. Mister Black and Miss L/n. Miss Evans and Mister Diggory. Mister Samson and Miss Perdentio. Miss James and Mister Gideon Weasley. Mister Fabian Weasley and Miss Rembrandt. And Miss Kane and Mister Rembrandt. Chop chop now, let’s get a move on. I don’t want to see pink hair or any frizz or trust you will be staying in next period.”

You grimaced. You turned to Lily, and asked her only half jokingly, “Wanna swap?”

McGonagall shot you an amused look, “No swaps, Miss L/n. We must all learn to get along.”

“Funny,” you snarked to Lily, “I remember Flitwick saying that too.”

Huffing, you point your wand at Sirius, who was taking his sweet sweet time talking to Peter. You muttered the spell under your breath and Sirius felt his hair coil up. Then you turned it back.

You turned to the professor, a small smile playing on your lips and she looked approvingly at you. “Page 256 for extension work, class.”

Sirius was apathetic, and continued his conversation.

You had already completed the work on page 256, so you chose to take out a piece of parchment and continue your Potions homework, glancing at Marlene occasionally to see her gazing fondly at Dorcas.

“Mister Black,” McGonagall warned, “Mister Pettigrew.”

“Minnie, you know my hair’s already perfect.”

“This is not about the charm,” she drawled back, “It’s about the practice, discipline…”

“And skill,” Sirius finished.

“Well, show me then.”

Sirius waved his wand casually and your hair turned impossibly curly, more curly than it had ever been. Then he waved his wand again and it was normal. You were grinning at Marlene, mouthing encouragement as she glared back.

McGonagall frowned. He shrugged and returned to his conversation.

The bell rang and she strode out, stopping at the threshold, “Class dismissed. Homework is three feet of parchment,” groans rung from all around the classroom, “on the use of Transfiguration within the cosmetics industry and its impact,” more groans, “It will count for your final grade, and it is due next lesson.”

“But the next lesson is in two days, Professor!” someone called.

She gave them a scathing look, “And whose problem is that? See you all in two days.”

Lily was furious after class. She stormed into Sirius’ dormitory, a whirlwind of ginger and red.

“Sirius Black,” she started calmly, “You are acting like the biggest grinch since Christmas,” her top lip curled, “I don’t want to say this but, you’re mean, Sirius.”

Sirius startled. He sighed. “Am I really?”

“She thinks you’re mean. I would say that’s a pretty good indicator.”

Sirius knew exactly who Lily was talking about.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. Sirius, you can’t keep on doing this,” she replied softly, “You’ve gotta let people into your life.”

“I can’t, Lily.”

“You can. And you will. I hate to do this to you, but you have to, Sirius. People are inevitable.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know you are, love, but you won’t be any less scared if you ignore everyone for the rest of your life. And I know it’s hard, but you’re strong, Sirius.”

“I don’t want to turn into them.”

“You’ll never, Sirius. You’ll never be them. Just, don’t be mean.”

“Where should I start?”

“Be yourself, but be nice, Sirius. You’re a great guy.”

Sirius started trying harder. When you bumped into Remus and him at the library, he didn’t glance past you, but nodded at you, like men did, he said to Remus. He started looking passively gentle, less cold. There were a few changes, but they became bigger.

He was headed to Potions after smiling at Flitwick in the courtyard. Flitwick, with his usual assuming nature, which came with being very very advanced intellectually, had seen right through him.

You had your arms linked with Dorcas, going the same way.

“So much homework,” she sighed and you nodded, catching sight of Marlene in your peripheral vision.

“Marls! Over here!”

You offered your free hand to her and she snorted. “I don’t do physical contact, remember?”

Dorcas’ head peeked out on the other side. “Really?” she asked softly.

Marlene went red and you smirked to yourself. She stuttered, “I guess I could make an exception.”

Dorcas hummed. You wracked your brains, trying to figure out how to leave them alone. You spotted Lily and James walking, swaying in a romantic embrace. I’m gonna break it up, loverboy and girl.

“Lily, where are the Muggle Studies notes?” you clashed Dorcas’ and Marlene’s hands together haphazardly, running to her.

You had never seen Marlene so flustered. Dorcas just looked surprised, doe eyes looking up at Marlene in confusion. It made Marlene shudder, but she regained her composure and linked their hands together.

“Awwwhh!” you heard Sirius, walking with his group of Marauders bar James, “You guys are so cute!” he teased Marlene, making kissy faces at her. Dorcas blinked innocently.

Marlene unleashed her most gnarly vocabulary at Sirius, glaring at him.

“He’s a little confused,” she smiled at Dorcas, “He means that we are both, individually, cute.”

Dorcas nodded, “Makes sense.”

You were busy chatting to James and Lily, “This older lady came up to me, and I was looking for mothballs for my wardrobe, right?”

“Huh?” James frowned at the same time Lily said, “You could’ve just asked me, I have heaps,” she turned to her confused boyfriend, “They’re the little jasmine balls you were juggling with the other day, remember?”

Realisation washed over James, “Ohhhhh.”

“Yeah, okay, continue.”

Sirius was stone-cold on the outside.

“So, Pads, you got an eye on any ladies?” Peter asked.

He laughed, “Don’t think so, Wormtail.”

“Any gentlemen?”

“Nope.”

“Shame. Well, Mary and I went to the ice rink the other day.”

“How was it?”

“I’m not really good on land, who was I kidding to go on frozen water?”

Sirius guffawed.

“I was waddling like a fricking penguin whilst Mary looked like the snow queen.”

You kept a firm eye on Marlene and Dorcas. It was a magnificent contrast, Dorcas so quiet and tidy and sweet and Marlene so fiery and hot-headed and rude. Dorcas made Marlene more mellow and more open to love, and Marlene helped Dorcas to be heard more often. You smiled to yourself. What a pair.

The cohort swarmed into Slughorn’s potions class, who was smiling that same old pretentious grin.

“Please,” he held out a top hat upended, with little slips of paper, “It’s random tuesday!”

The whole class were used to his antics by now and put up with him begrudgingly. You reached in, and pulled out a slip of paper.

It read, “34E” so you sat in the seat. James Potter was behind you, and he tried moving a spot to his right but he was glued into the seat.

“I know he’s beyond cooky, but this is madness,” he whispered.

You laughed, “I think it’s funny.”

Marlene walked in and you crossed your fingers she would sit next to you, but she sighed and sat next to James.

“Seat buddy!” James put his hand up for a high five that was ignored.

You giggled, and saw a hint of a smile on Marlene’s face. She herself began to smirk slowly as you caught sight of Sirius, nonchalant and handsome.

You had a general disdain for his aloofness, though you did secretly hope he would treat you like he did his friends.

“Hi,” you greeted him and he gave you a nod, taking out his quill and parchment. He swore under his breath when he realised he had forgotten his textbook. You glanced at him in confusion, half concern and apparently he’d been looking at you too. Inwardly, he melted. He loved nice people. But as he had come to learn, some nice people weren’t nice at all. Remember what Lily said, he thought. His eyes remained a cool, distant grey.

“Textbooks to page 420,” Slughorn boomed, “Ha! Get it?”

You laughed, he was more childish than any of you, flipping open your textbook. Surprisingly, Sirius enjoyed the sound. It was certainly different to James’ big loud laughter, Remus’ quiet chuckles or Peter’s hysteric giggles, but it was a good change.

Beginning to copy down the notes, you looked to the side to see Dorcas with her head in the clouds, as it usually was. Dorcas was the dreamer of the year. You finished writing and look around. Sirius was glancing at your textbook casually and you made a startled noise.

“Here,” you whispered, moving the book more to his side than it stayed in yours. He was unmoved, nodding again. Maybe you were worth letting into his life.

“Dorcas,” Slughorn called, “Tell me what the main component of the Healing Draught is.”

Dorcas looked at him glassily, “Pardon?”

Slughorn repeated the question, tapping his fingers on the table in an impatient rhythm.

Dorcas looked around, relieved as you mouthed “Wrathspurt,” scribbling it discreetly on your hand and showing it to her.

“Wrathspurt, sir.”

Slughorn looked sceptical. “Very well.”

Sirius admired you a little more after that. He was close with Dorcas, who was best friends with Regulus.

Slughorn dictated what you were to do next, which was to make a simple Healing Draught. You popped up quickly, retrieving ingredients, hauling a cauldron and juggling a knife, which you ordered Sirius to carry for you. He did so compliantly.

He was impressed. You were complete competence mixed with modesty and a little charm, good humour. You made jokes which he found very funny but only ever smiled slightly at. He wanted you around more.

Once the healing draught was made, you gave it a sniff and stared at it satisfiedly.

“We did it, partner!” You held out a high five but then remembered that like Marlene, he didn’t do physical contact either, retracting it awkwardly and giving him an awkward smile to match.

It’s the first time you’d seen him smile wide. It was the prettiest smile you’d ever really seen, his teeth flashing dashingly and his eyes lighting up. His aristocratically poised face turned into something boyish and warm.

“Okay stop smiling now, it’s getting weird,” you laughed and he shook his head.

You bottled up the potion and handed it to Slughorn, who approved.

“Best of the lot,” he murmured and you bounded back to Sirius.

“Sirius, he said it was the best of the lot!”

He smiled again.

It was a few hours later, with him and James lying on their beds.

“Hey Prongs?” he asked James, who was flipping through a Quidditch playbook, swinging his legs, like a Muggle girl in a rom-com.

“Mm?”

“Can I invite someone to our Friday night funnights?”

James peered at him, surprised, “Of course, Padfoot! Who is it?”

Sirius told him and James raised his eyebrows.

“I thought she might be a good friend.”

“Okay, whoever you like, Pads.”

“Will Remus and Peter mind?”

“She’s in Remus’ book club and Peter, well, as long as Mary’s there, Peter doesn’t notice a thing.”

“Cool. Cool. I’m excited, Prongs, I think she might want to be friends.”

“I’m proud of you, Pads.”

Friends were good for you, Sirius came to learn. James was there for his brotherhood and support, Remus for his knowledge and his wisdom, Pete for a sense of innocence and boyhood. They were his closest friends but he had Lily, a kind, furious, motherly addition to his list of friends. Marlene for his ability to relate to whatever situation she had going on at home and how they both hated love, and Dorcas for her ditsy humour, and dreams. Dorcas inspired Sirius. There was also Amos Diggory, he was the golden boy and on the rare occasions he and Sirius met, they got along like a house on fire. Maybe you, too.

And here that opportunity sat opposite him, head leaning on Mary’s shoulder as you giggled. You had complimented his choice of music and the questionable room decor that consisted of two broomsticks and a suspicious stick. It was Sirius’ night, James had insisted, toasting his glass of orange juice to new friends and enemies.

Truth or dare was being played, though by now it had turned into Truth or Truth, a bottle of Veritaserum sourced by Lily half empty. Red cups of orange and apple juice were sitting all around, Firewhiskey discarded. It had been because you opted for orange juice, and everyone else had joined you, not wanting to keep you responsible for all of them when they were past their limits drinking booze. You were sticky with joy and warmth, laughing and crying.

“Prongs, what’s your hot take on Lily?” Remus asked. James took a swig of his orange juice, dosed with Veritaserum.

“She’s secretly a world-class ballerina.”

Sirius snorted, “Evans? No way.”

“Thanks, idiot. I would be offended but I remember that you have less than two brain cells and pity you.”

Sirius pouted.

“Y/n, who’s the prettiest person in the room?” James asked.

You sipped your orange juice, “Marlene.”

“Awh, love you my little hermit,” Marlene smiled at you and you smiled back.

“I didn’t need orange juice for that, Marls.”

“Okay, quit it.”

Sirius began to see why Marlene hung around you so much. You made Marlene happier, more rounded. She was grinning into her cup of apple juice.

“So, Y/n, you gonna hang out with us more often?”

“One question only, Potter, but I guess. I already spend lots of time with Lily and Marls and Dorcas. If it’s okay with you.”

“It’s great.”

“Yay! New friend!”

“What about me?” Peter blinked at her and you smiled, “You’re my friend too, Peter.”

“Do I get a ‘Yay’?”

“Yay! New friend!”

Laughing. Sirius looked weirdly meek, weirdly emotional. You noticed, and he was surprised.

“You too, Sirius.”

He nodded, grateful. Inside, he was elated. His walls were coming down slowly.

The night began to wear away after the clock hit 11 and Lily had to go, so James had to go. Then Remus went down to pack away the common room. Peter and Mary sneaked off to her Ravenclaw dormitory. Dorcas fell asleep on Marlene’s shoulder, leaving her stunned.

“That means she feels comfortable around you,” you whispered and Marlene broke into a wide smile.

Sirius was sitting, and he was quiet.

“You alright, friend?” you asked him.

“The orange juice is warm,” he made a face at you and you laughed.

“It’s better than hot cola.”

“Cola?” he asked.

“What? You don’t know what cola is?”

“He lived a restricted life,” Marlene chimed in.

“Oh no, no, Merlin, no,” you replied and Sirius thought for a second that you were rejecting his whole existence. His heart dropped, “That simply won’t do.”

You left and re-emerged with two cans of something red. They were cool against Sirius’ skin and he smiled at you.

“What do I do with these?”

It was opened, and let out a strange hiss. You passed it to him, and he took a sip.

“Oh.”

You warmed one up by the fire and passed it to him.

“Ew.”

“Here, give me a sip.”

You poured it into a cup, took a sip and grimaced. “Gross. That’s really gross.”

Marlene laughed, “Me next.”

You were about to pour her some, but she just grabbed yours and chugged, shrugging, “It doesn’t taste like alcohol.”

“Marls, it’s Coca Cola.”

“What? You mean rum and coke.”

“I keep a family friendly household. I don’t drink.”

“Prude,” Marlene retorted.

“Dependent on alcoholic substances.”

“She isn’t wrong, Maroon.”

“Maroon,” you said, thoughtful, “That’s nice. Mar is kept and it’s her favourite colour. Maroon. Maroon. Maroon,” you tested. Dorcas stirred, eyes bleary as she blinked up at Marlene.

“Someone kept saying the names of random colours in the dream I was having,” she mumbled and Marlene shhed her, “It’s okay baby,” you looked at Sirius and faked gagging which made him chuckle. It was a deep and pleasant noise.

Marlene looked annoyedly at you and you giggled, “Think I’ll stick with Marls.”

Dorcas drifted off again.

It was a few days later and you were sitting in the library, legs crossed over each other as you lounged, reading a book. Dorcas sat opposite you, sketching a picture.

“So, Sirius, huh?” she asked, tone far away and feather light.

“We’re friends,” you said happily.

“Really? He seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“We’re friends,” you repeated.

“He’s different.”

“We all are.”

“When you met him, what did you see?”

“He’s detached to everyone outside of his bubble. Cold. But when you do see him start to open up, he’s very warm. I wonder what he’s seen.”

“Interesting. You feel the temperatures. I see colours. He’s a purple to me, deep purple.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s royalty. He’s a mix of blue, for his calm and cool, and red for his emotions and pain. A dash of yellow, because he’s soft when you get to him.”

“What am I?’

“You’re so nice you can be whatever you want to be.”

You laughed. Dorcas flipped her sketchbook around and there was a picture of you, sitting peacefully.

“Wow. Wow.”

Suddenly the wind, as if heaven sent, gushed through the window in an urgent rush. It blew the pages of Dorcas’ sketchbook, which were mostly filled with one particular face. Marlene.

Dorcas blushed and you smiled to yourself. Again, the weather changed. Heavy droplets of rain began to fall through the open window and you and Dorcas squealed as she shut it. You both giggled and laughed as you ran back to the dormitories through the corridors. Thunder crashed as Dorcas began to look a little scared. Then a strike of lightning hit not far away, and she shrieked. She was scared of thunder. You felt out of your depth here, but were relieved when Marlene came thudding down the corridors with Sirius.

“Hey!” you called, “Marls! Over here!”

Marlene took care of the situation. Sirius was standing, observing, quiet.

Marlene turned and gave you a very specific look, which made you start walking back to the common room. Sirius followed.

“Is she okay?”

“Marlene’s got her. She does like Marls, you know. And guess what I saw in the library?”

“Mm?” His eyes peeked over to you.

“A whole sketchbook. Filled with Marls’ face.”

“I wonder why,” Sirius smiled.

“Marls is very pretty, Sirius.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Anyway, they’re gonna be at least two hours, I’m going to head to the Prefects’ common room.”

“Hey,” he stopped you, “Marlene usually watches the game with us on Saturday afternoons, which is where we were headed. Do you want to come?”

“As her replacement?” you shook your head, amused.

“Well- I- no, you’re our friend. And I heard you went for the Cannons. They’re playing tonight.”

“I’ll come.”

A pleased look came onto his face. It was warm and interesting.

You followed him to a small little nook where James and Lily were huddled around a wizard’s television, bright colours flashing.

“Pollarck!!!!!” you squealed as you sat down on a beanbag, admiring the Cannons’ Seeker.

“Pollarck?” James looked bemused.

“I know, he flies under the radar a lot and is such a humble sport, but he’s my favourite ever made.”

“Um?” Sirius looked at you, confused.

Lily translated, “He’s got a boyish quiet charm that she admires.”

You nodded, “He gets the job done, no fuss, no bravado.”

Sirius smiled, “I’m a fan of GK myself.”

“He’s funny too.”

“Butterbeer- never mind. Apple juice?” James offered and you accepted.

“Thanks.”

“We always keep it around now,” James smiled warmly at you.

“You’re nicer than Lily lets on, Jimmy.”

“She’s just in denial.”

You learned that an afternoon of watching quidditch whilst taking tiny very noble sips of coca cola was the way Sirius enjoys spending his Saturday.

“Pass the coke,” James said, and Sirius passed the red bottle. You choked a little on your apple juice as Lily and you shared glances.

“Sweet,” Lily began, “That phrase isn’t what you think it is.”

After a quick explanation, you started laughing at James’ bewildered face.

“What’s-”

“Nevermind.”

Sirius was looking just as confused.

Eventually, the game did end, with your favourite player collecting the Snitch very quietly and hurrying into the changerooms just as soon as he did, the rest of the team trampling in after him to pour electrolyte drinks all over him. You winced.

“The crudeness.”

“Marlene plays,” Sirius smiled at you.

“The crudeness.”

“She’s been scouted for the Holyhead Harpies.”

“I know. The crudeness.”

“Sirius and I have been scouted for the Cannons,” James said. Lily was smiling.

“Really?” you clapped your hands, “That’s wonderful!”

“They don’t even need to sit NEWTS,” Lily grumbled and you raised your eyebrows.

Sirius was quick to explain, “Pollarck and Jeffreys are retiring next year.”

“Noooooooo,” you cried, “Pollarck!!!”

“He’s well beyond his peak,” James grinned, “He told me.”

“And after our careers, a commentating or coaching job is practically guaranteed,” Sirius joined in. He didn’t sound like he was bragging at all. “Want me to get Pollarck’s autograph?” he asked softly.

“Oh, please!” you grinned at him, “Pretty please!”

“I’ll get everyone else’s too for you.”

You squealed, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!” Sirius smiled. Being nice was nice.

And that’s what he told Minerva McGonagall, lying back in her sturdy armchair in the living room of her quarters.

“That Lily Evans does have a way about her, doesn’t she?”

“Prongs did fall in love with her, I’d say she’s a great lady.”

“What about you and Y/n?”

“C’mon, Minnie, I just made a friend and you want me to start falling in love. Impossible.” Sirius did not get it. Neither did you, really. He thought there was nothing and wouldn’t ever be anything between you and him. Right now, he just really wanted to be friends. He wasn’t looking for more.

“I know, but you both work.”

He shrugged, “I work with everyone, if I try hard enough.”

“That is true. How’s the Cannons?”

“Excellent, Minnie, I think I can get you a broomstick that once belonged to Heather Proud.”

“Really? Oh my Merlin, that is exciting,” she lilted.

“Oh yes, and it only comes off my fantastic charm.”

She rolled her eyes, sipping her tea, “I did receive a letter from your parents the other day.”

Sirius’ face dimmed. He turned tense.

“They paid out your tuition here and left you the trust fund from your, I quote, ‘greatest grandfather who enclosed that all grandchildren must have access to the fund, bound legally and within familial bonds.’”

Sirius blinked confusedly.

“Basically, you’re financially steady, which is guaranteed by Perseus Black,” Minerva spoke softly.

“Why do you seem so uptight though, Minnie? Isn’t this good news?”

“Sirius,” she choked up, handing him the letter. His eyes skimmed the words.

“Oh Merlin,” he leaned back into his chair, “They’re disowning me!” He chuckled, before burying his head in his hands, “They’re disowning me.”

Minerva put her arms around him, “Oh son.”

“Why am I still sad about it?” he sobbed.

“Son, no matter who they are, they’re your family. That’s not going to change. You’re bonded to them. It’s normal. It’s completely normal.”

There was one thing that was not completely normal though, Sirius thought, much happier than he had been a week ago. It was Sybil Trelawney. She was strange, odd, elusive. Her big eyes bore into Sirius’ as she examined him.

He gulped, widening his eyes at James. Something was about to happen.

“Sirius, my dear,” she stared off into the distance, “Is there someone new in your life?”

He shrugged, “Depends. What do you call ‘new’, Professor?”

“A young lady. Lovely smile. Ooh, she looks rather like that girl who dropped out of my classes. I understand. She told me she had bigger priorities, and with that lovely smile I could not be mad. We all tend to go our own ways…” Trelawney drifted off.

She recollected herself. “I see, paths will collide and never separate. Interesting, interesting.”

All Sirius saw was that the tea leaves had drowned underneath his tea. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Maybe he should’ve dropped this class too.

“Ooh, professor, I think I see a heart! Oh, now it’s a gigantic 65 headed monster that has red hair. Merlin it looks like Lily,” James giggled from opposite Sirius.

“Lovely, Potter,” she sighed, “I do not get paid enough.”

Sirius smiled at her awkwardly.

“Well, Sirius, there are open ends in your life currently. But I foresee– I foresee a feminine force.”

She moved on to another pair.

Sirius facepalmed and James laughed. “Bro, I don’t know why I signed up for this class,” Sirius groaned.

“Eh, don’t complain, you barely try and you’re first.”

“I made up all of my homework!”

“You know Trelawney likes imagination!”

“Surely there should be a limit to how much freedom of speech someone has! Feminine force, my foot. I have you and Lily, that’s enough feminine force to last me a decade.”

They both laughed.

“Maybe she was talking about, about your new friend,” James wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Sirius laughed.

“No way she would.”

“Paths converge, never to diverge again,” James mocked.

“I’m done,” Sirius sat back in his chair, eyes flickering around the room.

“Well, Sirius,” Trelawney observed, “You may be dismissed.”

Sirius “Yippee!”d and James muttered something that sounded like, “Handsome old teacher’s pet.”

He strode out of the room and into the corridor, immediately blasted with the sound of quiet wailing. It was a first year boy, looking so very distressed in his too-big cloak and clutching his wand. Sirius felt very sad, so decided to approach the kid.

You were clicking through the halls, from the library to your next class. You heard his voice, it ricocheted through the walls, and stopped, sneaking your head around the corner. Sirius was bent down, talking hushedly to a young boy. You could piece together their conversation.

“Little guy, what happened?” Sirius asked.

A small voice sniffled, “I got lost. And- and my term hasn’t started well. Mrs McGonagall glared at me today, my potion blew up in my face and Mrs Trelawney said I might fall ill. All my friends ditched me to go play Quidditch and when I was tying my shoelace, none of them waited for me. So I’m here now.”

“Oh, I am so sorry. But let me tell you, Mrs McGonagall has this thing- have you heard of it? It’s called a resting,” here he swore and the small kid laughed, “face. Don’t worry about Potions, it hasn’t mangled you up at all. I don’t know what you looked like before but you’re very handsome,” he said, tender, “As for Trelawney, why today she said that I would have a feminine force in my life. You don’t take her for real, my dude. Your friends? They’re not nice, little dude, you shouldn’t put up with them. You deserve someone who will wait for you whilst you tie your shoelace. I can show you to where you want to go, which would solve your last problem. I can be your friend too.”

You felt something swell in your heart. It was earnest and deliberate, warm and you wouldn’t ever live the same way ever again. Oh no, you thought.

This is how you would justify it- this impending crush on Sirius Black. He was so sweet and very beautiful, with those gorgeous eyes. You couldn’t help yourself. And it would be kept aside, you’d leave it alone. You wouldn’t harass him, no, you would continue on building your friendship with him. You wouldn’t act on your feelings. You turned on your heel, nearly crashing into Professor Trelawney.

The last time you had seen her was her crying over your departure from the Divination class. It had been a lachrymose affair. She looked jumbled, all over the place. Her eyes widened, larger than you thought they could ever get.

“Ah! It is you!”

“Yeah, afternoon! I’ve got to rush, I have Arithmancy, professor, bye!”

“The very Arithmancy you left my class for!” she yelled.

“I regret it!” You smiled back. You didn’t.

“You don’t, dear, good luck with your NEWTs.”

Your NEWTs did come and go, and after them you and your friends went out to celebrate. A Bacchanalian affair, and even you had decided to take a tiny sip of Butterbeer, recoiling in disgust and viciously trying to drown the bittersweet taste with your orange juice.

The mood was joyful. Basically everyone had been offered a job after graduation, despite their NEWT outcomes. There were a lot of people crowding in the tiny bar, most being seventh years. Sirius was sitting with James at a counter, cautiously drinking his orange juice. Like always, everyone was staring at him. It wasn’t his dress- he had just put on a simple crewneck sweater with the little triangle under the neckline and some sweatpants. It was his whole physiognomy, you thought. Every day you had spent with him meant he became more and more stunning. He had the loveliest face, sculpted true to Aphrodite. Where did I come from? you smiled to yourself.

And he was observing you, through his hair. He had a cool enough disposition to offset the amount of staring he was doing. Like him, you weren’t dressed up at all, but you were still pretty. Sirius had forgotten exactly how beautiful you could be whilst he was busy being friends with you.

Pretty? he thought, Am I out of my mind?

James tapped him on the shoulder, “You okay, Pads?”

Sirius blinked, hard. “Yeah.”

“Right, well I’m going to go talk to McGonagall. You’ll be okay?”

“Excellent.”

Sirius played with the handle of his cup. How does Prongs do this love thing?

He felt the seat next to him shift and turned. It was a girl, upon a closer glance at her, it wasn’t you. Why does that even matter? You dolt.

“Hey baby,” she shuffled close to Sirius. Her arm came to hook around his tricep, “You know, you’re really hot.”

He was physically pained by the interaction, prying her arm away. If she felt rejected, she didn’t show it.

“Thank you,” he said stiffly. He glanced at his fingers, placing them under the table and shifting one of his rings to his ring finger. You caught sight of the strange sight before you. Sirius looked uncomfortable.

“A drink for the hot man,” the girl declared to the bartender, “And then you can come back to mine.”

He grimaced, “I’m sorry, but-”

“No buts, handsome. I know how to have a good time.”

She went to touch his face but he caught her hand.

“Stop.”

“Will I? You’re far too manly of a man to really make me.”

“Stop,” he repeated.

She trailed her hand down his chest and he shifted back.

You were quickly shuffling through the crowd and he felt relief as you approached them. His eyes flickered to yours. They very obviously flashed in discomfort.

“Hey!” you rushed over to him, hugging him very lightly. He whispered a thank you, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, gosh. And who is this?”

The girl supplied her name.

“Sorry, but we have to go, don’t we?” you tilted your head at Sirius. He knew this was all a ploy, but he melted, nodding, dipping his head down to whisper another thank you in your ear. You laughed and shook your head. Outside, he enveloped you in a hug. It was lovely and mellow.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “Why?”

“I’m supposed to be strong. I’m a man.”

“No, you aren’t supposed to be strong all the time, Sirius. No one is. Men are manly even when they cry and it doesn’t make them any less if they are girly or like pink or any of that. She was forcing herself onto you, and it isn’t fair that if it were a girl, people would be all over it.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s warranted. Does this happen all the time?”

He nodded.

“Gosh that is terrible, Sirius!”

“You’re right. I need a bodyguard. You up for the spot?”

“Of bodyguard?”

“Of course.”

“Not cut out for it, I’m ‘fraid,” you grinned. You were already friendzoned, you were sure of it, you didn’t want to be bodyguard-zoned too.

“Shame.” He didn’t know why he felt disappointed.

–

Sirius was struck with the burning revelation the day after. With no NEWTs to worry about anymore, you were always with him, some way or another. He liked you. More than he should, maybe. He thought you were gorgeous and so, so, good to him. Good for him, too.

“Minnie, I think you were right.”

“Mm?” McGonagall barely looked up from her newspaper.

“I do like her.”

The woman let out a triumphant ‘ha!’

“I like the way I feel with her.”

“What are you going to do about it, then?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t think she knows, Sirius.”

“I know. Do you think she cares, though?”

“Oh, definitely.”

You peeked your head around the open door of McGonagall’s office. Sirius could recognise you from anywhere. He slunk down in his chair but McGonagall gave him a nod. From the angle you were at, you couldn’t see him.

“Hi Professor!”

McGonagall smiled at you, “Well, good afternoon!”

“I was just here to ask if you could switch Lily and I’s Prefect Duty for tomorrow. I know it’s a short notice, and I’m sorry for that.”

McGonagall swivelled to the calendar on her wall, flicking her wand.

“Your shift?”

“8am with Connors.”

“Her’s?”

“8pm with Reginald.”

“Why the switch?” McGonagall’s blue eyes pierced through you.

“There’s a dance tonight.”

“Aren’t you going to be attending?”

“Oh, it’s a couples event only.”

“Aren’t you- Don’t you have a plus one?”

“Unless you can find me one,” you joked, “But no, it starts at 7 and Lily has to be there. You know how James gets.”

“I do,” she said curtly, “He’s terribly pouty most of the time.”

You nodded, “Exactly. And mine is nice and early! And I don’t have anything on in the evening. You do know, Professor, Dorcas and Marlene got together so that wipes out half of my dormitory. Alice is with Frank, Mary with Peter. Oh gosh, I must sound so miserable. Anyway, enough about me, are you going?”

“I’m supervising,” McGonagall laughed.

“Exciting! Right, so we can switch shifts, right?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you so much! Have a great day!”

“You too, sweetie.”

Sirius waited for your footsteps to recede to huff, “How come you call her sweetie?”

“That is beside the point. Young man, she doesn’t have a date for tomorrow’s dance. Do you?”

“No. I was just going to flirt my way in.”

McGonagall rolled her eyes, “Now you don’t need to. Go.”

Sirius rose, unsteady, making his way out already. He stopped at the door, turning around and flashing his million dollar smile, “Thanks, Minnie.”

Then he sauntered out.

He found you in the common room, laughing in a corner as the girls showed you their dresses from above the stairs.

“Oh my gosh Mary that’s so stunning! I love the detailing. Oh let me go up there, you are so hot, gosh!”

He heard vaguely a voice, a dreamy one, “So, you’re really not going?”

“Yep.”

“You know Diggory well, he’s hosting. I’m sure you could get in.”

“And be the only single around? I’d be third wheeling everywhere. Cas, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Let’s see your dress.”

Sirius assumed that Dorcas stepped out, and you squealed.

“You are so pretty, Marlene will be stumped when she sees you. Oh my golly let me take photos.”

And Sirius was left smiling at you, as you rushed to get a camera. He remembered he needed to make a move.

“Actually, that won’t be necessary,” he stepped in, “Do you want to go with me to the dance?” he asked, gentle.

You whipped your head around.

“I noticed you didn’t have anyone to go with, and all your friends are going.”

You beamed, he was so sweet, sacrificing his own time for you.

“You are very kind, Sirius, but you should be asking someone you actually do want to go with instead of putting up with me just so I don’t feel left out,” you laughed.

“Actually, it’s killing two birds with one stone. I get to ask someone I actually do want to go with and you don’t feel left out.”

“You want to come with me?”

“Yep.”

“As friends?” An opening. Sirius took it.

“Nope.”

You looked at him, unreadable and quiet.

“As more,” he said.

“Okay then.”

That was it. Sirius smiled, so brightly at you, so warm and lovely that you blushed and turned your head away. He climbed up the stairs.

–

Oh he had never seen anyone more beautiful. He offered his arm to you and you took it happily.

“We never talked about what we were.”

“Sirius, do we need to?” Your lips were ghosting his, so close.

“You’re right. Can we go slow?”

You tippy-toed, pressing your lips to his. He's like that, you thought.

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absolutebl · 11 months

Text

This Week in BL - Multiple Thrupples are Forming

June 2023 Wk 2

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying most.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Step By Step (Tues WeTV & Gaga) ep 8 of 10 - Emotional blackmail from the ex notwithstanding, I guess it’s Pat’s turn to break hearts. I have to say Up was really well cast in this part - extremely believable. Well done all around. Jeng is so smitten, so awkward, so cautious, yet so sharp when it comes to a seme confrontations. I LOVE how sensitive Jeng is to the fact that he has a one-sided crush but also deluded by how much he wants the fantasy of the relationship. The agonizing roller coaster we watch him go through in this ep did a lot of work to elevate and expand his character. (Oh hi Green!) Poor Pat: thinks he’s teasing his straight boss, is actually slow dancing with future husband. Happens to the best of us.

La Pluie (Sat iQIYI) ep 8 of 10 - Don’t kiss someone else. Just argh. Dumb plot divice. I expected better of you LP. Everyone is so overdramatic and overreacting. I wonder if (in addition to all of the other tropes this narrative is scrutinizing) it’s examining bisexual identity through Pat + his ex? Like, this episode is actually about trusting the bisexual to choose his gay lover when he has the so called “option of being normal.” That soulmate is an allegory for gayness & identity & choice (and whether we even have a choice in who we love and are attracted to) and the interplay all of this has with one's own perception of self and other's perception of you… Or am I giving it too much credit? Meanwhile... l flipping adore the love triangle twist, and really wonder if they’re gonna have the guts to take this aspect to its inevitable triangular conclusion. Such a good show.

Be My Favorite (Fri YouTube) ep 4 of 10? - Screw all y’all, I’m eloping with Pair & Max. We forming a thrupple and pretending Jittirain doesn’t exist. Trash watch here.

Luminous Solution (Sat Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - I love the high school boys so much it’s scary: flirting, biting, frankness, roughhousing + lap sitting! Also messy high school gay triangle. Gah. All of this for little-old me?! I was mad every time we jumped forward in time (to the adults) or whatever the hell is going on. Thank goodness this is only 6 eps.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Love Tractor (Korea Weds iQIYI) eps 3-4 of 8 - I LOVE IT SO MUCH. IT IS EVERYTHING. SHUT UP I AM FERRIL FOR THE BEAUTIFUL CITY BOY & HIS YOUNG FARMER. Come on. Korea. Have mercy? Plus some language play? Slayed. Right... the episode; This show reminds me so much of a Korean style Restart After Come Back Home. I’m not even slightly mad about it. It’s the BL I didn’t even know to ask for. Soap opera tumble and baby in hospital is SUCH a princess moment and I am living for it. Although the reversal is even cuter, princess turns out to be a caring tsundere Dom. And then obligatory water-hose frolicking! Oh, stop, you. (Allegory much? i being to think hose spraying is just another way of BL saying... well... hose spraying) AND “there is only one bed but they slept together on the floor together anyway”. These boys are hitting all my favorite tropes. BL please never lose your sense of childish wonder. And... the hose spraying is nice too.

Tokyo in April AKA Shigatsu no Tokyo wa (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 1 of 8 - Based on a NSFW yaoi, this is a reunion romance that takes place in an office. Look, this is a weird little 2nd chance at love that reminds me a bit of Our Dating Sim. But it’s more traditional yaoi office romance with evil boss and inter-departmental politics. The leads are cute childhood (almost) sweethearts and I adore it unreasonably already.

Vian the series (Vietnam YouTube ) ep 6 of 12 - Vertical video prod is stupid. I’m sorry young people. Stop it. BUT the cuddling is cute. Christ BV can kiss. Is there anyone he doesn’t have amazing chemistry with? Oh the sunshade trope I haven’t seen that one in forever. Also clearly his character has a type, and that type = ultra-bitch.

Stupid Genius (Vietnam Fri YouTube) ep 2 of 6 - It’s fine.

Naked Dinner AKA Zenra Meshi (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - Oh dear. Baby is hurt and rejected. Faen fatal knows her competition is a boy, she also knows what jealousy looks like. But this baby has his own boy. This is all feeling rather Thai BL. There’s even an ep 11 of DOOM coming up next.

It’s Airing But ...

House of Stars (Thai Mon iQIYI) 12 eps - I bounced at ep 3. Will binge if told it is worth it at end.

Stay (Pinoy YouTube) 7 eps - It’s mostly in English and set in LA so I’m not bothering but the first one did drop.

Ever After (Pinoy ????) - I got nothing.

Takumi-kun Series 6: Nagai Nagai Monogatari no Hajimari no Asa (Japan Sun ????) 10 eps - NO ONE ASKED FOR THIS and no, I have no idea where to get it, why would I? (Say it with me everyone: Oh Japan, must you?*)

Boys Love Omegaverse (Japan ????) - honestly tho? Who tf cares? You’ll still tell me if you find it, because inquiring minds... Irony of this airing at the same time as Takumi-kun. Full circle much, Japan?

Ended This Week

Tin Tem Jai special showed up on Gaga as ep 11 & 12 under the original show. (Indebted to spies reporting in.) Also on YouTube. What was that I just watched? Did I watch something? Was there anything? I suppose the bathtub scene was cute. Subs are bonkers. Seriously. Do. Not. Bother.

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku (Japan) - pay attention TTJ THIS is how you do a special. But I’m gonna do a series review, here ya go: I was always gonna love the show if they stuck to the manga (which is very dear to my heart). And they did, paralleling it almost exactly. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. Possibly too slow for some but definitely high up there for me with the best of what Japan can do (like Restart After Come Back Home), it’s only flaw (if I dare say such a thing) is that it is not really “romantic.” Lovely & sweet but the romance beats are being used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy, it’s OK with me, but not totally BL. 9/10

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting this Week

6/22 About Us but Not About Us (Pinoy movie from 2022 on Prime) - A professor grieving the loss of his partner meets an ambitious literature student.

6/24 Tie The Knot AKA Under the Same Sky (Pinoy movie on Prime) Trailer - I guess Prime is coming for our Pinoy BL? From OXIN Films (Rainbow Prince), announced for 2022 based on a true story, Briggs's family runs a bridal business but he has never had a chance to fall in love until he meets Shao, a groom to be.

6/24 Why You (Khmer BL ????) - Billed as a horror romance, not sure if this is a movie or a series or where it will air.

6/25 Dinosaur Love (Thai iQIYI) Trailer 5 eps - from Ultimate Troop about a uni student, Rak, whose partner cheats on him with Rak's best friend. This gives bad boy hazer Dino an opportunity to hit on Rak at last. From The Yearbook people so I will not watch this as it airs. After Remember Me? Never again with them.

2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED)

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Step by Step knocked it outta the park this week.

Stupid Genius (speaking for all BL)

No baby. Pretty much every human on the planet would react that way. (Love Tractor)

(last week)

Current Kpop earworm? IVE’s I Am

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idyllcy · 1 year

Text

I was your pinata, she was a star charter

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: The library boy... he's cute.

You rush into the library, tote bag in arms and book in hand. You aren't too excited to start school, but you suppose that studying at the library will help, somehow. The smell of paper and cloth covers fills your lungs as you step to the tables. The tears of the sun spill in through the stained glass windows, and you rub your arm gently. It's warm. The last drops of sun before the clouds cover his glory and destroy you. You wonder if a good cry will help you out.

You set a mug on the table and pry open your laptop.

The words on your laptop drive you insane. The lines and lines of literature grasp your mind, forcing you to focus and read the phrases. Nothing goes through your mind like it's supposed to. You grow tired of the lines, head dizzy, and mind a mess over the assignment. You hated seminars. You don't like sitting and reading. You hate this. The crown of thorns tightens around your head, and you feel that familiar feeling of disgust crawl up your throat.

How lovely.

"Um... hello?" A voice fans the clouds forming above your head.

"Yes?"

"The library closes in five minutes," He smiles.

You turn to face the boy, and you pause.

He's gorgeous. Holy shit. You thought he'd look old because his hair was white, but the only thing going through your mind was over how angelic he looked. Your lips part as your eyes trail to his lips, and you swallow unconsciously. He's pretty. His green eyes are almost clear with how pale they are, and his skin is a deathly shade of peach, but he's so pretty. You're in love. Is that what love is? Oh. Great. You're in love with a random librarian working on campus.

WELL, WELL, YOU CAN'T BLAME YOURSELF!! HE'S GOT PRETTY CLOUDY HAIR AND THAT CLASSIC PINTEREST ACADEMIA OUTFIT!! HE'S JUST REALLY PRETTY!! HE LOOKS DAZZLING. HE HAS THOSE PRETTY GLASSES AND THE DAZZLING RUBY CHAIN HANGING FROM THE EDGE OF HIS GLASSES. HE LOOKS PRETTY, OKAY??? IT'S NOT JUST A YOU THING-

"Sorry," You snap out of your trance. Does he think you're weird for staring at him for that long? You hope he doesn't. "I'll pack up."

"Thank you," He smiles.

As he leaves, your eyes trail back to the document on your laptop. You got... a little work done. Barely anything. You sigh to yourself as you toss what needs to be discarded and shut your laptop. Well, at least you met someone cute. You hope he works here often.

The boy works here four days a week. He's here on three weekdays and Saturdays. He usually organizes books or sits at the front desk, checking books in and out. His coffee order is an oat milk latte, and he drinks more tea than coffee. He has never once shown up without his glasses or knitted vest. It's just his style of clothing, you suppose. Nothing bad. You liked how he looked. It offered some semblance of chaos in a library that was prim and proper. You like it. It reminds you of the clouds.

The sun burns into your skin as you walk toward the library.

It's become a spot where you hang out often. You sit there and do your homework, biting and chewing on your lip as you read through more files than you can digest. Your stomach churns with disdain as you scribble onto your tablet. You want to leave. Please. You miss frolicking in the fields and living like a protagonist. You aren't the lead of the story now. You're just a character in the background to support others' growth. You trip and tumble over pebbles and boulders until the main characters end up together, leaving you in the background.

You don't know if you like that role too much.

Yet, as you set your tea down and pull out your laptop, you wonder when the cycle will break. You don't possess beauty as Psyche does. You hold no wrath of the gods for being beautiful beyond what Venus could ever imagine. You prayed that somehow, someday, you could be as beautiful as the princess herself. Perhaps the arrow of love would graze someone on accident, and you would finally live to be the center of attention.

Though, all of that was just pointless daydreaming.

You finish the last of your tea, checking two things off your to-do list, three more. Three more, and then you could rest for the night. The sun is starting to set, the hairs on your neck straightening from it. The light from the sun places itself on your skin, burning down your back as you finish another two assignments.

Before your final one, you turn to the side to stare at the pretty librarian. You lean on the palm of your hand, watching the way the sun coated his back in gold. The chains on his glasses look gold under the star, and you take note of how prim his fingernails were. He didn't bite them, and his hands looked elegant compared to the ones you were used to. Even your own nails are damaged because of how you used to bite them. The skin on your nails struggles to grow back because you still pick at them.

You grow nervous too often. You can't help it.

You turn your eyes to your laptop screen, fingers clicking on the keyboard.

The sun sets with the moon's chasing, and you close your laptop once you finish your final assignment. You tilt your neck to stretch it, your bones cracking as you do. The glass cup is empty of the latte you got earlier from the local coffee shop. You slip everything into your bag and wrap your arms around it, pulling out a stuffed animal to rest your head on. You don't feel like going back to your dorm.

You close your eyes, resting your head on the cushion. A quick nap couldn't kill you.

"Hey, time to wake up."

Your lashes flutter, and you sit up slowly. Your muscles ache. You don't like the sleeping position you were just in. Yes, you started drooling because it was a DAMN good nap, but your back is not having any fun at all. That was not a good nap for your body. You're going to need to stretch when you get home. You crane your neck in an attempt to soothe your muscles. It's not working.

You lean back, locking eyes with the male.

"A-ah!" You jump in your seat. "Is the library already closed? I'm so sorry!"

The male jumps back at your sudden movement, and you shove the stuffie into your bag. You probably pissed him off. Oh, no. You don't know if you want that. What if he kicks you out permanently because you hindered closing time? That wouldn't be good. Then, you wouldn't be able to come back and stare at the cute librarian ever again.

"I'm so sorry!" You bow ninety degrees to the boy, and the male looks taken aback.

"No, no!" The boy stutters, waving his hand. "Don't worry about it! You seemed tired, so I thought it'd be better to have you leave last. You still have two minutes."

"I'm so sorry again!" You grab your stuff, heart racing as you rush out of the library. Ah. How embarrassing. You hope he doesn't think badly of you after that. You can't believe you almost slept until closing.

You check your phone.

Huh? Closing was ten minutes ago. Are the clocks inside the library broken?

The gates of summer make way for the guards of fall, the burning rays of sun replaced with falling foliage. The steps to the library are covered in orange and brown, the latte in your hand replaced with a cup of diluted earl grey tea. You don't know why you're trying it. Maybe it's because you saw the cute library try out the tea the other day. You're at least glad that you added milk and sugar. Hopefully, it keeps you awake like your caffeine did.

Your lips part at the sight of the cute library boy jumping into a pile of leaves. Your cheeks grow warm, and you gasp. He's... jumping into leaves? You watch the leaves flutter around him, and time seems to slow as you watch him. He's pretty. Though his hair is in his face as he's hidden behind the pile of leaves, he's pretty. A giggle slips past your lips unconsciously, and you slap a hand over your mouth. Shit.

You rush into the library, praying that he didn't see you laugh at him. Embarrassment burns at your neck as you sit down at your usual spot. He's cute. Even if you couldn't see his face clearly, he was pretty. Your neck grows warm as you recall the scene, and you take a sip of your drink to calm down. You have assignments to do. You don't know if you could survive if he had seen you.

You don't actually recall what the librarian looks like. You remember staring in awe at his beauty before rushing off because it was closing time. You wonder if his hair is actually soft to the touch. Maybe... you'd ask him one day? Maybe you should get his name first.

The cloud covers the sun as you reach into your bag for the textbook. You hate the stupid course. Why couldn't they have been kind like the other professors and used a book that's available online? Oh, were you not supposed to say that? Oops. Oh well. Not like you're the only one. You don't know how many of your other classmates are doing things their parents would kill them over.

You chew on your bottom lip as you submit another assignment.

The sun is long gone at this point, and you wonder if you should actually make use of the free time you have left. You want to stalk the cute librarian. You wonder if you could ask him for book recommendations. Maybe he'd give you one that you actually like.

You grab your bag, tucking everything in. You'll check out a book before you leave. You're craving murder. You'll read about that.

"Ah, sorry," You step to the counter. "I was wondering, since you're the librarian, if you had any book recommendations? I wanted to read something like murder mystery."

"Well," You tilt your head at his cough. "I'd recommend Conan Doyle or Agatha Christie. Have you read And then there were none?"

"Ah, no," You tap your chin. "Which area is that book in?"

"I'll go with you," the male smiles.

"Thank you..." You pause to squint at his nametag.

"Nagito Komaeda." He starts walking. "Please call me Nagito."

"Thank you, Nagito," You trail along behind him, and your internal monologue goes wild. He looks so pretty. His back is so pretty. Oh, god. You sound like a pervert right now. You're going to go insane. Your neck is warm, and you nearly crash into him as he stops. Your heart jumped into your throat from that. You didn't need him to kill you before you even got to know him.

You stop behind Komaeda as he reaches for your book, and you stare at the way his arms reached up. He's got little to no muscle. He's incredibly thin. You think he looks a little healthier compared to when you first met him, but you suppose he might just be like that. It wasn't like you hadn't put on weight since starting college. You should've paid attention when your teacher talked about the freshmen 15.

Komaeda grabs the book while you're lost in thought and you don't even notice how close you are to him. You flinch as he turns around.

"Sorry!" He gasps.

"No, no!" You wave your hands in a panic. "I'm sorry for being so close! I was looking at the other book."

You pull out a romance book from the shelf, and Komaeda flushes. You don't even notice that it's a romance book.

"Are you more into romance?"

"I like both," You look to the side, spotting another book. "Ah, speaking of which. Have you read Growing Pains? I heard it's really good."

"I have," He smiles. "It's a really good book. Have you?"

"No," You shake your head. "Shall I read it?"

"Yes," Komaeda grabs for it, sliding the book on top of the stack in his arms. "How about It's a soulmate thing? You're holding I'm here, so I assumed you might-"

"Yes, please," Your eyes sparkle at the sight of the cover. "I'm a sucker for soulmate stories."

"I'm glad," He reaches for another book. "and... Seashells and Sketchbooks?"

"Mermaids!" You gasp. "Sorry, I've read that one. I loved it."

"It's good, isn't it? I love it too." He smiles.

"What's your favorite?" You stare up at him, batting your lashes.

"Growing Pains," He mumbles, looking to the side. "It took my heart and crushed it in the best way possible. I can't get over the ending. You?"

"Hands down, it's Sketchbook and Seashells," You mumble. "I'm here is a close second. Both of them were so gentle and fluffy. I was living in a cloud while reading both of them."

"I'm willing to bet that you'll like Growing Pains more once you finish the book." He looks you in the eye, and you fight the urge to shrink under his eyes. "Hm?"

"Sure," You smile. "What does the winner get?"

"We'll decide after you read the book," Komaeda takes the book from your hands.

You're on autopilot until you return to your dorm. He's so pretty. Komaeda is so dazzling. Your heart is racing a million beats a minute as he checked out your books for you. You can't stare him in the eyes. He's just too pretty. His hands are so nicely kept, and you recall the way his pale eyes had stared into your soul. You would cherish the book. You can't believe you're doing this. Your heart is racing from a boy you barely remember the face of.

You flip through the pages, jaw dropped and heart cracking. There was no comfort in this book. It was completely angst. You don't know what you're doing, yet you can't stop reading. You've cried through a box of tissues already, and your assignments are stacking up, but your heart is crying in agony. It's been 11 chapters. Your mind is breaking as you do. You don't know if a gallon of ice cream is going to cure you of the childhood trauma the two experienced. Curse slow burns. You're going mental over this.

You emerge from your room four days later with fish eyes and a broken and poorly mended heart. The ending was cute, but your heart is not. Neither is how you look. There's no way you can return to the library with a stuffy nose and puffy eyes. You'll take another two days before going back. Komaeda was right. It is your favorite book now.

You hate him.

You toss the tissues and the trash, splashing water on your face. You still need to read the other two books. You're praying both of them are nice and fluffy.

They are.

You're saved. You're safe. You're cheering so hard right now. Your heart is saved.

You slam the books on the counter, dark circles present. You don't know how many days you haven't been to the library, but you're just about ready to beat someone up. "You. I'm going to strangle alive."

Komaeda hums, taking the books from your hand.

"I take it that I won the bet, then?" He scans the books back in.

"Yes." You sigh. "You won, but I want you to read Lonely Kids."

"Sure," Komaeda smiles. "So, since I won, I want you to read another handful of books."

"Oh?" You tilt your head.

"Read Stay With Me, Hold my Hand," He smiles. "It's a series."

"Alright." You mumble. "I'll scalp you if it makes me cry."

"It might," He pauses. "It's by the same author as Growing Pains."

"I'm going to cry, then," You grimace. "It's so beautifully destructive. I love the way they write. The whole world is built around you so beautifully only for it to be torn into shreds."

"Yeah," Komaeda smiles. "Though, this one will make you cry harder."

"I'll read it over break," You sigh. "Thank you, by the way. And Then There Were None was a really good story."

"I'm glad." You pull your bag, and you head off.

You won't tell him that Lonely Kids is a smut book. He can read between the lines by himself. You hope he at least likes it. You're a whore for that author's books. He could throw a book into your stomach and make you throw up blood and you'd still cry over it. That was how much you liked that author. But you suppose that he wouldn't do that to you. You don't know. You cried over "Communication is Key". You don't know how much you can take from that author. One of these days you're going to throw up over a book from how hard you cry.

You don't know if you want to read any more of Komaeda's favorite author. Your heart hurts from Growing Pains enough.

You check your phone, and you stand in line at the coffee shop. What was the librarian's coffee order again? You swear it was... something... you don't remember. No, wait. You do. He's been bringing the woody tea lately. You learned that the other day in class. Patchouli? The... plant. That might be best. Even if he doesn't like it, it doesn't taste bitter to the tongue. You wonder if he'll mind the spice.

"One Patchouli tea and one milk tea please," You smile.

"What kind of tea for the milk?"

"Earl grey," You hum. "Fifty sugar for the milk tea, and twenty five sugar for the regular tea."

You stand on the side, rocking on your feet. You hope he likes it.

He does.

You watch him grow visibly brighter at the sight of the tea, and you relax under your breath. He likes it. He likes the tea. You'll keep that in mind next time. He looks really happy at the sight of tea, and you can't help yourself. "Uh, do you like tea?" You mentally wince at how awkward that sounded.

"Yes!" Komaeda clasps his hands together, and you mentally cheer. "I have a preference for tea that isn't bitter. I can't taste many things because of my medication, you see."

"Medication?" You tilt your head. He's sick?

"I'm being treated for a couple illnesses." He hums. "Sorry."

"No! Don't be!" You gasp, horror setting in. Did you just make him feel bad? You hope not. "I wish you a speedy recovery. Please take care of yourself."

"Of course," He smiles at you, and you wonder if he's sad. His hair is still in the way of his face. You're starting to get impatient. You want to see how he looks. You're going to kill someone at this rate. Why was it so hard to see someone's face???

The leaves on the trees empty out quickly, and you find yourself holed in the library more and more. Your midterms are coming up. You're going to stab yourself. Why couldn't they have just assigned you a research paper? That would've been so much nicer. Ugh.

Someone taps your shoulder gently. "Would you like some help? I took that class already."

"Yes, please?" You stare up at Komaeda with doe eyes. "I'm losing my mind over the subject."

"Does giving you the test and correct answers count as helping?"

"Yeah," You stare up at him, chin tilted to the ceiling. You take note of his lashes. Holy shit he has nice lashes. "Do you have it?"

He does. He hands you his laptop, and he shares a google file with you. It's a blessing. An angel has been sent to you from above. Cupid himself is blessing this marriage. This is a blessing in disguise. Maybe you are Psyche in a different way. Maybe you're actually the main character for once. Even if you aren't, you're happy with what you have currently.

You work on your laptop with Komaeda, the boy making small talk with you. He has a nice voice. His voice is airy, and it soothes you. It does more than your tea for some reason. You're a little sleepy from his voice. You wonder how well you'd sleep if you were to sleep with him. Ah, how foolish of you. Those thoughts are fleeting, and you close your laptop as you finish checking it out. You hope he doesn't get offended if you nap while he sits next to you. You need rest. You haven't slept properly in days.

You don't remember much of the conversation, but you know that you're going to nap well.

"Thank you..." You mumble. "I owe you."

You don't hear his answer.

You do, however, wake up to him shaking you.

"Closing time," He smiles. "We're the last ones."

"Alright," You mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Thank you. It was very warm."

"Of course," You follow Komaeda as he takes the trash.

The stars sparkle above your eyes, and you exhale. Hopefully your midterms will go well.

Psyche never knew the face of her husband. She had been told that it was a beast, something that was beyond what a human could handle. She had been sold because she was worshipped, yet her husband was gentle without a single candle. Whenever she wanted to see him, he would not let her. She was told to never see his face. Yet, love presents itself in its best form for everyone. You want to see Komaeda's face properly; Even if he runs.

The book in your hands breaks your heart over and over again, an endless cycle of death. You wonder if that's what it felt like. You want to curl up in the book and never touch anything else. You want to wrap your arms around the characters and assure them that there's nothing ahead, well aware that what lies ahead is only heartbreak. It hurts to watch people in a world beyond yours crumble because of the laws of fate. It hurts you.

You finish the book, heart torn from your chest, tears threatening to ruin the book. It hurts. It hurts to watch people love in an apocalypse be torn apart and destroyed. It burns your throat. You don't like it. You want to break into the author's home and cry on the floor and ruin their carpets. What an awful person you are.

You go to the library again once you've finished the trilogy. It was good. You wonder if Komaeda would be willing to sit down and talk about it with you. You had a couple of questions for him.

Your heart is going a million miles an hour right now. You can't believe you did it. You asked Komaeda to coffee. Would it be too much of a rush to ask him out today? Would it kill him? Maybe it would. You might have a harder time asking him out today. Maybe just one coffee date at a time.

One turns to two.

Two turns into four.

Four turns into an indefinite number.

You like spending time with Komaeda. He calms you down visibly, and your heart grows softer as time passes. Maybe you got used to how loud it was. You think you learned that somewhere. Sensory adaptation, was it? You don't know. You just know you're embarrassed beyond belief and in love with him horribly.

Ah.

You like him.

You like him as the wind finally pushes his hair back and as he goes embarrassed from your staring.

You like him as he brushes his hands on yours as the two of you sit down to drink the coffee.

You like him as he's chasing you in a field of flowers that the botanist majors care for so much.

You like Nagito Komaeda like a girl has a crush on her senior; and you're terrified. because while in the millions of stories you lost yourself in they get the boy, not many in reality do. You're terrified of losing what you have currently. There's just something that's drowning you alive.

It's like stepping into quicksand, sinking as you struggle against it more. You thrash desperately against your own feelings, waiting until it consumes you until there's nothing more. You want to give yourself to him wholeheartedly, yet you don't. Cupid's arrows have never hit you, so you wouldn't know. You hadn't even remembered what Komaeda looked like until the wind blew his hair out of the way. There's no way he likes you back.

Yet, as Komaeda's cheeks grow red from your ministrations, you think you have a fair chance.

"Nagito," You breathe, staring at the male.

"What?" He stares at you.

"I like you."

Komaeda goes silent, and for a moment, you worry that you've offended him.

Your mind spirals as you sit there in silence. It's... confusing. Did he not like you? Why was he taking so long to respond to you? Maybe it hurt to answer? Maybe it was strange? You fiddle with your fingers as he processes the words. You want to step away, yet you want to hear an answer from his lips. Would he answer you?

One minute turns to two. Two minutes turns to four. Four minutes turn to five.

Maybe he wouldn't answer you. You should probably take a step to the side and let him process it for a couple of days.

You open your mouth, your throat dry. You want to say something. Could you? Was that an option? Your heart is fighting to break free from your chest. You're dying to do something. Can you... tell him? Was that an option? You can let him reject you. You'll mull over the rejection just fine. It's not like you're expecting him to say yes to you. You'll just sit down and cry over it later.

"Say it again," Komaeda grabs your shoulders, cheeks flushed. " Please. Say it again."

"I... like you," You mumble, looking to the side, a sudden embarrassment on you. "I like you a lot."

A silence is thrown over the two of you, and you brace yourself for rejection.

Komaeda's hands shake as he presses them to your cheeks, tilting your face to face him. You stare at him, your heart ringing in your ears. Your cheeks are warm, and his hands are practically vibrating. You're scared. Is he going to reject you face to face? Is he going to reject you while looking into your eyes? Oh, how cruel he was. You look back to the side.

"Look at... me," Komaeda's voice is shaking too.

You open one eye to stare at him.

"I like you too," He whimpers. "I like you a lot too. I'm infatuated with you. It was as though Cupid had grazed my skin with an arrow the first time we met. I adore you to pieces. I can't... I can't think of living without you."

Now it's your turn to get embarrassed. Pupils blown wide with excitement.

"You like me too?" You grab his wrists. "You do? Oh, tell me you do."

"I do," Komaeda swallows slowly, and you hear your pulse in your ears. "I do adore you so much, darling."

And you cry. Silent tears that trickle down your cheeks. You cry the tears of the stars, twinkling and burning your heart as your confession is accepted. You sob silently, hand over your mouth and tears trickling down your cheeks. You're ecstatic. You're... loved. You aren't in the background anymore. You're finally someone who isn't used as a staircase for others. Hopefully Komaeda stays with you.

Komaeda pulls you into his chest, running his hands through your hair.

Maybe you could stay there forever, even if you were a background character.

#nagito x reader #komaeda x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #nagito komaeda #komaeda #sdr2 x reader #danganronpa x reader #sdra2 x reader #look familiar? it's last week's fic but from your POV #☾.fics

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randombush3 · 2 years

Text

Bad Habit.

florence pugh x reader

summary: words that should’ve been said never were.

words: 4209

warnings: drinking, suicidal themes, major breakdown, disturbing topics

notes: OKAY. it was originally supposed to follow the song, but now it doesn’t. look out for the lyrics though. also this got really out of hand imo, it’s one of those fics where i never actually saw the end when i began it and therefore takes lots of twists and turns and may not make sense. you might have read it like twenty times. who knows!

based on steve lacy’s song Bad Habit

p.s. fuck tumblr’s editing interface.

“That will be my cab, Flo.” You swirl the dregs of your whiskey, noticing that though the bar is cold, the ice has melted. Have you really been here this long? You would never have realised if you hadn’t remembered to order a ride to the airport while washing your hands twenty minutes ago. Time is irrelevant with her.

She places a hand on your arm, wishing you’d meld together and stay forever. In this bar, forever. In her life, forever. If she were to truly believe that she’d be naive and stupid. You met filming, and, yeah, maybe you did become friendly but you’re always going to view her as a work friend; nothing more, nothing less. “Okay,” she says, voice deep and low and undeniably sexy to have directed at you. It isn’t fair. “This is it, right?”

You smile, lips pressed together and hiding the slight ache of your heart. “Right.” Work friend. Your characters were dating, not you two. You tilt your glass, toasting with what’s left of your diluted drink, “until we meet again.”

She laughs, but it rings out more melancholic than intended, hanging heavy in the air between two people who will most likely not end the night the way they’d both like to.

“Yeah.” She smiles. “Until we meet again.”

Standing up to see you out, Flo envies the bartender because the smile you give him is more genuine than any you’ve given her. “Thank you,” you tell him. He fights a blush, finds your softness beautiful, charming. Flo would better describe you as the magnet that attracts every ounce of adoration in her body and takes it unknowingly and unwillingly. “Have a nice evening.”

“You too,” he replies, seemingly ignoring the five other customers — all old men with cash only and wives on the brink of divorcing them. Florence thinks he is about to hop over the green leather of the bartop and kiss you, because he certainly looks as if he will, but you’re lacing your fingers with hers and taking her with you outside before he can move an inch.

She feels special in that moment. More than she has ever felt.

“How come you’ve dragged me into the freezing air of wintertime Helsinki at one in the morning?” You giggle, pure tipsiness making your decisions for you. The woman in front of you recognises the way you shift your weight from one foot to the other, leaving her hand dead by her side in order to wrap your arms around your front. “I’m going to miss watching an underdressed Y/n L/n die a long, cold death while begging me for my jacket.”

“I haven’t asked for it yet.” She grins, taking it off anyway. “And I don’t want to take it, because I’m going to stop by my friend’s to grab my suitcases and then I’m off. Back home until the next adventure.” This jacket is old, it must be from skiing a few years ago, but her body has warmed it and it’s cosily swallowing you whole.

“Or the next torture. At least being forced to be near me is coming to an end,” she jokes, self-deprecating. You hate it when she says things like that, mainly because you’d watch her in awe whether she delivered an Oscar-worthy monologue or figured out a simple maths equation. Either would be something you’re convinced you’d never do, anyway. Wrapping the movie hit you both like a brick, because the sudden realisation that, if neither of you had the balls to say something tonight, nothing would ever come of the three months you spent frolicking in the snow, pretending to be in love with someone who made you feel an affection you were supposed to not feel in real life, pinches your cheeks and reddens them. Flo chalks it up to the snowflakes falling on your eyelashes, your collarbones, touching parts of you she can only dream about.

“No, c’mon. Nothing’s ever torture with you. I’ll love this film even if it turns out to be a disaster because we made it together and I could never hate something you put your heart and soul into.” You’re essentially saying you’d like to kiss her and fuck her and preferably marry her, but Florence has failed every subtext social test ever presented to her. It’s brave of you to reach out and grab her hand again once you’ve said that. She’s blushing and not hiding it, your heart is pounding. If you could visit the Wizard of Oz, you’d beg for courage and step closer, tell her how you really feel. “I—”

Whatever magical emotion revealed itself to you is instantly scared off by the harsh beeping of a fat old man’s horn. “Are you getting in?” The taxi driver rolls his window down, face sour and bored and sick of stupid people having stupid rom-com moments. “I’m allowed to leave if you’re not going to.”

After a pause, you let go of her hand. Of her. “Okay. Goodbye. Good luck for Oppenheimer, yeah? I’ll see you when I see you.” If Flo’s voice hadn’t slipped out of her and ran away to the circus, she’d have stopped you in your tracks and told you that goodbyes needn’t be said so soon because she’s convinced that she loves you (and she’s right to believe so).

She should kiss you: it’s her final chance and chances shouldn’t be wasted on people who are too scared to say something in case the other doesn’t feel the same. You wish you knew if she felt the same, but you haven’t got time to rebuild your earlier fortitude as the driver is threatening to creep away by slowly leaving the side of the pavement. She waves goodbye awkwardly, trying to seem funny at the very least, and turns her back once you’ve surpassed the ten metre mark.

Not kissing you has to be the biggest mistake she has ever made.

You’re at the airport, sitting in the business lounge alone because you can’t cry in front of all those people. The waitress asks if you’d like anything to drink, nervous, not wanting to startle her client. “Do you have whiskey?” You decided that the tears need wiping if you are to carry on with your life like she never happened.

Once you are comfortably in the air, the plane’s window becomes more interesting than any of the movies offered in Finnair’s business class. While it proves as little distraction from the events of seven hours ago, you ask yourself two million questions, most of them beginning with ‘why didn’t you’ and ending with internal outbursts of frustration. Being alone, your head quite literally in the clouds, is what you need to recover from three months of nights where neither of you wanted to go back to their own bed. Three months of giggling endlessly though the director has reminded you how easily replaced you are. Three months down the drain.

God, you miss her, but you’ll have to go on missing her. You’ve kid yourself she could ever reciprocate selfish desires.

—-

Seven months later, you feel as if you’ve only just landed from your flight home. (Not that LA is quite your home.) Summer is supposedly fun, or it appears so on your Instagram that is monitored closely by an old costar. While your mind can, at times, be distracted for a day or so, hers is constantly split in two. Like every other thing in her life is fighting for her attention but being battered down by the thought of a lost girl in a jacket that swallows her, waiting for words that will never come.

Occasionally, under the influence of too much tequila, you text her, shit like what you ate for dinner, how your parents’ dog is doing. Empty words from an empty brain. She ignores them because it doesn’t sound like you, not because she wants to (she would like to screenshot each one, frame it, and worship her shrine for the rest of her life, but that’s deranged — you make her feel deranged). Though most of your friends think you’re overreacting to delete her contact and unfollow her on everything, it’s somewhat therapeutic to return her radio silence. If the mighty Florence Pugh won’t give you time of day, why should you remain?

“I’m not doing it,” you tell them — your friends — when she’s brought up. “I’m not going to wait for someone I’m not good enough for. Why can’t that be okay?” Secretly, you fall asleep every night lost in a tornado of moments that could have been; everything that could have happened but didn’t still happens in your mind, filling in gaps where the cupping of your cheek led to kissing you, where the parts left unsaid were spoken and heard and listened to. Listened to by the right person, not a friend, not an unbothered sibling, not a stranger sitting next to you at the dentist with too much time before their appointment. Sometimes the tornado begins to materialise and you spend the night with trapped sobs finally tasting the air beyond your lungs. As the sobs rise up in your throat, you can feel the snow land on your nose, the bleak taste of Helsinki resting on the tip of your tongue, nothing but a vivid memory that disappears when you gasp to check if you’re really there. You never are. You seem to snap in half every time.

Every fucking time.

“It’s just press.” Your publicist doesn’t accept your statement as smoothly. “If you don’t do it, you’ll be blacklisted and I’ll be underpaid. You’re an actress, Y/n. Act.”

She keeps three books on her desk, each the size and shape of one Hunger Games book. You’ve always wanted to ask what they mean to her; does she thumb through them between meetings? “I want to hit you very hard with the largest of your Hunger Games books. The second one, right?” She nods. “Yeah. I’d use the second book.” Under her desk, she has her palm flat against the wood, searching for the emergency button desks in movies have. She’s never had to even think about using it before. “I’m not going to, of course. That would be preposterous.” You get up, smiling at her. “I’m not going to do that, just like I’m not going to do that stupid press tour, understand? Because if I do that press tour, hitting you with a book won’t seem ridiculous to me. She will drive me insane. She already is.”

Reluctantly, the executives allow you to skip the cast briefings on the basis that you do more interviews than you’d initially agreed to, overlooking the breach of contract. Considering Florence and you were in love for the whole movie, the original interview schedule had twenty interviews with her and your other cast members and four with her alone. Now you have fourteen with the woman your publicist went back to counselling for.

You realise you’ve been massively fucked over, because not only are you doing the press tour, you are doing majority of it with Flo.

“I’m going to slit my wrists in the bathtub if one more Marvel actor tries to talk to me.” Your friends have started to look increasingly more alarmed every time you open your mouth, but it’s their fault that they got you drunk. “Do you know that they’re like some,” you spill your beer from your gestures, “cult? If you hurt one of them, you hurt them all. I didn’t even fucking hurt one of them. I fucking… fucking loved one of them. Fuck, I love her now. You know? Love? Fuck that.”

A particularly kind-hearted member of your friend group removes your drink from your hand and pats your shoulder. But you continue, unwillingly to hold it in any longer. “I have a confession,” you slur, eyelids closing heavily before you force them open again. “I have a… I have a confession to make to you all.” The group are drunk, some as far gone as you. You’re not the favourite member, not the one everything is planned around. They’re your friends from an early movie you once played a supporting role in. Most of them are jealous of your success, most want to leech off it. All of them are tired of your bullshit. “I’m kinda mad I didn’t take a stab at it. We’d have had great sex.”

- - -

She wakes up alone again.

She’s not used to that just yet.

Not physically.

Going back to a man she once thought she loved was comforting for a while. A good six months. It was a good, long slap in the face too, like being in a car crash with your favourite person in the world; she was reminded that she didn’t say anything every time he kissed her, attempting to kiss the hesitation out of his girlfriend, and felt like the crash was beginning to drag. Sparingly, she waited for him to state the obvious (“this isn’t working out”), collect his shit, and leave.

And so, one month later, she still pats the unused side of her double bed to check if it’s cold. It’s not that she misses him. Florence Pugh dreams about being with you every time her eyes close, and has done so for ten months. From the minute she met you.

“Mama has interviews today,” she tells her Billie. She seems to be the only proper listener nowadays. Humans can talk back, voice their unwanted opinion, and recommend therapists who really helped them. Dogs can’t. “They’ve told me I’m with Y/n for one of them. Do you think she’s changed?”

If dogs could text, Flo would’ve texted Billie to say you haven’t. You look sadder, but so does she, and you look ever so slightly older. Your eyes don’t light up quite the way they used to.

Flo moves her hand away from yours when you get too close to her on the sofa they’ve had you sit on. You didn’t mean to inch towards the ruffles of her dress but if your home is sixty centimetres away, you wouldn’t run in the opposite direction. (You did once, remember how that made you feel?) “Our characters are beautifully in love,” you answer, smiling at the interviewer behind exhausted eyes. “The kind that is excruciatingly wonderful to witness, and even better to create. Falling in love with Florence was the best thing I have ever had to do.”

She wishes you meant it.

“Have you ever been in love like your characters? Was there something real woven into your portrayal?” For a moment, you think she’s caught onto the fact you did actually fall in love with Flo. It takes a second for your mind to repeat her words in different tones, deciphering what she meant by ‘something real’.

You pause. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

“I think that, in every movie ever created, there is a piece of reality, a base to build on, because stories are a way to explore what didn’t happen. For me, the love we filmed came before my experience of it. There’s something real in there, but it was the kind of seed that only gets planted in a script and made into a blockbuster. The way I love her is unrealistic.” The interviewer nods, smiling at the material you’ve given them. That’s the perfect quote for the headline.

It breaks Flo in a way that no one can describe.

“Unrealistic?” she quietly repeats once the interview is finished. It’s the last of the day. “Who?” You stay silent, though in your head you’ve professed your undying love to her five times over. “You weren’t with anyone when we filmed.”

You’re called away — thank god — because your car is here.

Flo wonders who stole your affection from beneath her feet, pulling out the rug and letting her fall on harsh reality. She decides she hates that person wholeheartedly. Maybe she even loathes them — they’ve taken her world from her.

“It was okay, I promise,” she later says to her stylist, Rebecca. Press junkets for Rebecca are like advent calendars for Flo. She is a stylist, and so Flo doesn’t blame her excitement, having become used to it over the last few years. Rebecca’s mission is to make Flo look irresistible to you (set by Flo’s unspoken desire that floats around the very much spoken angst-filled pining). “Apparently she was in love with someone, but it was ‘unrealistic’. She phrases things so…”

“Cryptically,” Rebecca offers, mundanely recycling that word from the last time her client (and friend) brought this up. “Ever thought it was you she meant?”

Jerking upright at the thought, Flo shakes her head; “there’s no way. Y/n doesn’t beat around the bush. She would’ve made a move ten months ago!”

“I think she was talking about you, maybe she was trying to tell you how she felt.”

“It doesn’t matter. It has to be too late to pursue her.”

You wouldn’t care if Flo and you started dating in fifty years. It would just be another fifty years of feeling lost in an expansive desert where love is like water.

“Why don’t you respond to the many willing women then? Just for sex. I’m sure they wouldn’t care.” Your friends don’t quite understand that you can’t do anything with anyone who isn’t her. You’d say her name, think of her face, her hair.

“Did you know she cut her hair?” You like it. She once told you that she’d chop it off after filming ended, and that she’d like you to cut it for her because she’s sure you’re a talented hairdresser. “She has that septum piercing you told me about, and she has a new tattoo. She’s changed so much since last year, and I feel like I’ve been frozen in time instead. That’s not fair… I feel like that’s not fair. That she gets to be so…” You recount previous conversations, “you guys think she loved me, don’t you? I think that, if she did love me — which she didn’t — then she’d have said something. She’s honest and blunt and not the kind of person to harbour feelings for someone and do nothing about them. Especially when it comes to love.”

“Y/n, you always act like you have one chance to do something.” Trying again and again doesn’t work for someone who exclusively does things she’s good at, and loses her passion at most setbacks. Resilience never seemed to find you when you were in need of it the most.

“I feel like, my whole life, I’ve been missing the boat,” you concede.

“Just get the next one.”

- - -

Like you warned your publicist, you are losing it. Things don’t seem to matter as much anymore, and if they do it’s because it has to do with her. Brushing your teeth is easier, actually, because what if she got close enough to smell your breath?

You feel taller, shorter, wider, narrower. You’re being stretched in every direction at every moment of the day, only contracting to your most painless self when Flo is beside you on a chair or a sofa, hand close to yours but not enough to touch it.

Most wonder if you actually eat, having not seen you holding any form of edible object during the whole three weeks. You can’t eat, you can’t sleep. At night you forgo convincing yourself to wait for a break that will never come, so you spend them staring at a working TV, not interested enough to turn it on.

By the time your last interview is finished, you haven’t slept in four days. Everyone is worried.

Flo corners you when you stumble away. She forgets her anxieties, her doubts, she doesn’t care if you hate her. “You’re not going back somewhere where you are alone.” She leaves you no other option, grabbing your wrist, pulling you to her car. You’d fight back if you weren’t feeling like every breath is your last. It feels nice to be defeated.

She drives you to a house you’ve never been to, telling you to get out of the car. Her fingers fumble for the keys in her pocket as she unlocks the door, pressing her hand on your back to get you inside.

“You’re a mess,” she murmurs, guiding you to her kitchen, sitting you down on one of the cream leather stools tucked under her island. You smile.

“I’ve been worse.”

She hates the way you say it. As if she doesn’t care about you. As if you think she despises you.

“When was the last time you ate anything?” You shrug. “I’m making you food.” She fills a glass with water from the filter in the fridge, placing it in front of you. A drop spills over the edge, rolls down towards the granite surface. You swipe your finger against the glass’s edge before the drop can touch it, drying it off on the fabric of your unreasonably expensive Versace suit. It fits looser than when you tried it on, but your stylist doesn’t like you enough to care.

The clang of her pans mocks the silence between the two of you. Her kitchen communicates more than you can, and it’s only when the smell of something good seeps through your barriers of believing you aren’t in need of sustenance that you speak again.

“I love you.”

Flo glances at you, breaking her concentration. “What?”

You rock back on the stool, enjoying the thrill of almost falling over but never quite hitting the floor. “I know you heard what I said. I love you.”

“No,” she mutters. “No, you don’t.” You scoff and she looks alarmed. Upset.

“I may not be in the best state of mind, Flo, but I’m pretty certain that I love you,” you tell her again, nodding your head. “I can even tell you the exact moment I fell in love with you.”

She fights back tears, because this is not how any of it was supposed to be. “You haven’t slept. You haven’t eaten. You don’t talk to people — you don’t talk to your friends. You have no right to sit there and tell me you love me when I know you don’t mean it. It’s mean.”

“I’m not being mean.” Your defence is penetrated by her eyes: mistrustful. She doesn’t trust you anymore, she doesn’t know what to believe and what to blame on your current insanity. “I’m telling you the truth, because I thought you would want to hear it. I thought you’d listen.” You stop before you tell her she is just like everyone else.

“That’s unfair.” You drink the water. “I’m not going to let you manipulate me like you’ve manipulated everyone else.”

“Why?” you ask, curious. “Do you think you’re different? You’ve rejected the idea that I am able to love you, clearly. That puts you on the same level as the rest of them, doesn’t it?”

To be honest, you weren’t expecting her to take you with her, after all that wasn’t said or done. When you said it, you didn’t want her to necessarily push you against the worktop and kiss you hard, but you’d assumed she would at least believe you. You’d rather shock her than make her sad.

But you’re making her cry.

You hate watching her cry. You want to swipe away the tears just as you cleared the droplet from the glass of water, but you find yourself stuck to the cream leather stool, only able to watch her. She wipes her face with the back of her palm, knuckles running over her soft skin, reddening it.

“You can’t love me, because I love you, and we’d destroy each other. It’s already destroying you.”

“Not being with you is destroying me.”

“I heard what you said to the woman who does your makeup. I’m destroying you, Y/n. This,” she gestures between you and her, voice breaking, “is destroying you.”

You shake your head. “I think about you all the time. I live for you,” you state firmly, standing up. As you move towards her she backs away. “Don’t you get it? You are my everything.”

Flo can’t be your everything, because she is one person and you need at least four. She knows you better than you think, she knows that you’re an addict, that you don’t like living with the feeling of not having anything. If you weren’t addicted to her, it would be alcohol or drugs or a simple thing like crocheting. You chase that intensity, bleeding it dry until it can give you nothing more.

“I don’t want to be your everything, Y/n.” It’s a lie. You can hear her regret, it drips off her words. “The food is ready. Eat it, and then leave.” She almost smashes the plate, but holds her anger in until she leaves the room.

Your, “I’m sorry. Wait a second,” gets stuck at the roof of your mouth, refusing to come down its hiding place. You find other words to say, but you don’t say them.

You bite your tongue, it’s your worst habit.

tags: @pewpughpew @ridlz @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @sophie-xox @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz

#florence pugh fanfiction #black widow #florence pugh x reader #fanfiction #florence pugh #marvel #mcu #florence pugh x you #yelena belova #florence pugh one shot #florence pugh angst #florence pugh smut #florence pugh fluff #songfic #steve lacy #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh imagine #florence x reader

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skoulsons · 1 year

Text

TLOU Ep5

Shorter bc my computer cut out and I had to hand write notes

This is horrifically dark

MY BOYS

that man is full of knives

“Stay with me” AND HOLDS HIS HAND. this is unfair

I love the way Perry stands

Jeffrey pierce looks so good in this role. The slicked back mullet??

it sounds like she’s talking to little kids

“You’re all guilty, so that’s how that’ll go” 😭

Okay but why be like “no one has to die” and then say “kill them”?? YOU WANT THEM DEAD OR NOT?

and jeffreys voice.

oh man

OKAY great I figured we went back in time a smidge but I wasn’t for sure. So the doctor was with them

poor Sam :(

WAIT IS IT AN ETCH A SKETCH?? are those THAT old? They can’t be. no that’s not one it’s something different

“He’s scared bc you’re scared” 🙃🙃

THE SCORE?? ITS THE SAME ONE WHEN JOEL AND ELLIE EMBRACE IN THE RESTAURANT HELLOOOOOO? ALL GONE (REUNION) RIGHT?? not the score evening out when he signs “super sam” im gonna throw myself down stairs head first

The same fear and reassurance between Joel and Ellie last episode. “No one’s gonna find us” “are you sure? “100%”

Henry pulling out the bag of crayons and then drawing together. why.

HE HAD PAINT AND EVERYTHING

their hug :( and Henry gently rubbing his fingers back and forth on Sam’s shoulder???;?/!;?

“He has an asshole voice. Joel, tell him he’s okay” “everything’s g r e a t” 😭😭

Joel giving Sam his food :(

The look joel gives Ellie when she tells them her name <3 so game-esque

HER SLAPPING HIS LEG TO GET HIM TO SHARE HIS NAME

Joel jogging and then leaning over to catch his breath 😭 me, always

“Get your gun out” AND HER SMILE AND HIS HEAD SHAKE

Ellie’s arm slung over Sam’s shoulder :(

SAVAGE STARLIGHT !

you’re kidding. soccer. SOCCER? IN FRONT OF JOEL?

*write on this L*

“But you get it. You might not be her father, but you were someone’s. I can tell” is his protectiveness that obvious

did Perry just make a “your mom” joke.

Joel criticizing Henry for talking too much and ellie smiling 😭

LISTENNNNN A SHOT AND JOEL TAKING HIS SWEET TIME TO TURN, FIND ELLIE, PUT HIS ARM OVER HER BACK AND SHIELD HER? make a whole ass dinner too why don’t you

Henry holding Sam’s hand :(

“If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you.” This reassurance 🫶🏻🫶🏻 “But if you go out there, he’s gonna kill you.” “it’s dark and he’s got shit aim, nobody’s gonna kill me.” “then he’s gonna kill us.” “Do you trust me?” And her nod 🕳👩‍🦯

Joel asking him to not do it bc he doesn’t want to kill him :/

EXPLOSION ! And as @ellie-licious and I were talking about, Ellie’s frolicking in the middle of the street 😭

the focusing shots of Joel’s face realizing that that body is Ellie on the ground.,.,..

WHERES OUR BLOATER

she’d really kill the kids. damn. you’re fucked up kathleen

BLOATER BLOATEF BLOATER

THATS SO MUCH INFECTED HOLY PISS OHMY

THERES SO MANY

THE SAME KILL ANIMATION. MWAH I LOVE ART

listen I know Joel’s skilled and he loves Ellie, but firing so close to her is SO ballsy 😭 AND HIM SHAKING DURING IT?? kill me. *WRITE ON THIS L*

im scared of scorpions :/

im scared of ending up alone :/

he showed her it oh fuck. oh wow was not expecting that.

NOT ELLIE TRYING TO FIX IT WITH HER BLOOD WAAAAAAA

“Stay awake with me” :(((((((

“I promise” :((((((

NOT A HUG.

shit. shit man shit. shit. why. why was I hoping for a different outcome.

Wow I was talking earlier if they’d play it the same way as in game. and they did almost 1:1. Wow.

Ellie calling out for Joel :/

JOEL BURIED THEM. wow different from game for sure, but I’m happy with it

#dude.#the last of us hbo #tlou spoilers #joel miller #ellie williams

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pandorafallz · 8 months

Text

Vampire AU | First day at Hometree

The camp had two distinct moods when they got up for the day.

The moody shadow of rage emanating from Kim hadn’t changed too much; Jake had heard an argument start up again around 4 a.m. that had woken him up and it hadn’t improved and Jerome looked a little sheepish at breakfast as he tried to help regardless that her mood was directed at him. Glutton for punishment, if Jake ever saw one.

Then there was Nadine who was acting like she was pipped up on coffee and acted like rainbows and unicorns were frolicking about camp. She already had a spot picked out for the Weed once they were ready. Morgan was also more than happy to help get the land prepped with N’deh shadowing to make sure that the plot would be….suitable and respectably dug when the guy resurfaced from the depths of the jungle.

All in all, a weird start to the day.

Jake took the time to eat well in both bodies, not that Kim would let them go unfed given she had stress-cooked the rest of the fish into many Niktsyeys and so, needed to be eaten and his avatar was going to be dormant most of the day so it was necessary at the least his avatar would be good for most of the day. He’d need to link up before bed to see to its needs. He was sure one-day in-the-next-out would be his best routine to cater to both forms.

N’deh though, while usually a quiet observer, was more so. Something Jake had picked up on earlier, noting the man’s ears were on high alert, his tail swishing across the grass. Jake waited until he was back in his human body to roll his ass out of his shack and over the uneven grass to N’deh.

N’deh was standing up by the totem of bones, his ears sullen and his tail still swishing. His jaw was tense as Jake craned his head to look up to him.

“You okay?” Jake asked.

N’deh didn’t move, but he let out a soft breath. “I have had better days. This will be the first time in two years that the clan’s people will be coming this far out. Higher risk of discovery.”

Jake felt for the guy. Hiding from his own people and he didn’t think N’deh was dangerous to be worried about the reasons why. The science couple thought it was stupid, then it was harmless. Yet it clearly meant something.

“Will they force you out further if they knew?” Jake asked.

“I do not know. It’s been many years since I last saw my sister. She had a great responsibility for the clan. She will choose them over me without a doubt and I admire her resolve. She is older than me by nearly fifteen seasons. I was considered a.. late blessing from Eywa.”

“You…harbour no ill feelings?” He had no idea who his sister was but clearly of importance.

“No.” N’deh exhaled heavily. “Not entirely. A mild frustration at Eytukan for his…unwillingness to hear my heart for what I did. He’s a man of…tradition. He cares for his clan’s wellbeing and I do respect that.” His chin rose in pride as he spoke. “To…be around that, or to even stay at a vast distance, it hurts deeply.” His fingers rose, touching over the teeth of the skeleton. “Here, far enough to be nonintrusive, close enough to oversee my sister and niece. I can be content with that.”

Jake eyed the man softly. Certainly not the responses of a dangerous man. No anger. Kim had a very different response to a personal betrayal which put some perspective on the matter.

“Can I ask…what happened?”

N’deh exhaled out, “I am not ready to speak of it, Jakesully.”

Fair enough.

Jake turned his attention back to the massive skeleton with an edge of curiosity about what this meant for the Na’vi. “What’s this from?”

“My Ikran, txon'ong. In English, this name means Sunset or Dawn as his skin held the dark blue of the night sky with an orange edging that…look so much of when night falls and the moment before the plants come to life with light.” N’deh smiled fondly. “I miss him very much.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Jake empathised.

N’deh just nodded, “Thank you.” His ear twitched to the side. “I will see you later. Have a good time at Hometree.” And like that, he was gone through the bushes.

Neytiri had made her appearance shortly after that, which explained N’deh’s bolting. Jake had since wheeled himself back to the shack and collected his bag and manuals that were ready in the airlock by the time she had fully entered their camp.

Her eyes took in his shack mostly, though made a curious noise to see the mauri’s up above…and the suspended shack. He had been here now long enough to get used to it but he still appreciated the view and skill.

“I did not see much of this last night.” She remarked, “Interesting placement of a metal home.”

Morgan then seemed to be ready to go, slipping out of the shack of discussion and down and landing lightly onto his feet, hands on his hips and only wearing his shorts, cotton vest of pockets and a sash that held his mask filter. Oddly, he also looked to have some sort of woven and damaged sling around his chest and his vest pocket looked to have a few lumps in it.

“We good to go?” he asked cheerfully.

Neytiri cocked her head to the side a little, examining him with some consideration. “Who will be leaving with today? Kim?”

“Kim won’t. She’s still angry and…Jerome wants to remain and cool frayed nerves.” Jake replied, “Why are you asking after her?”

“I informed my mother of her pregnancy, she will want to check upon the child’s development.”

“Ah, well it may take some convincing for her to come to Hometree. But, me and Morgan are coming, Nadine too but should be out in a second; she’s making sure her prosthetic kit is ready.”

“Protetich kit?” Neytiri asked.

“Prosthetic. Her metal limbs. They require her to bring tools in case a gear or protective shell gets damaged, or to get energy packs to make sure they’re functional all day since we won’t have a charger set up at your Hometree.” Jake explained.

Neytiri nodded though it didn’t escape him on how her eyes dipped down lower to his chair before she bent down. “What is that?”

Jake swivelled it around to show off the wheels. “My wheelchair. I’m…not just sitting down because I feel like it, I can’t walk. My spine got damaged. The only way I can get around that’s not crawling is this chair.” He explained, showing how he rolled back and forth though with some mild difficulty with the grass. Still, it proved a point. Plus, he vaguely remembered talking about his wheelchair last night…though he had to remember that she and most of the Na’vi didn’t have a concept of this sort of thing.

Neytiri eyed the chair, then to the surroundings. “You…wheels will not go far. Roots will be too big to get it over and…you cannot escape predators if danger.”

Jake shrugged, “I don’t need to go too far in this body. My avatar will be my legs for when I need them. I’m content to be limited in my chair. Food, water and company.” He gestured up though Nadine seemed to appear and began descending from the walkway and taut netting for ease of access to the pods.

“We ready to go?” Nadine asked brightly.

Neytiri eyes him for a moment longer then nodded. “We will travel by Pa’li.”

Nadine nodded, “Giant horses, got it.” She turned to Jake. “You’re up front. I’ll be at the back. I’ll keep hold of the chair”

Jake saluted with two fingers, gently slinking out of his chair, and folding it up. Neytiri seemed to scowl a little as she realised they were taking the chair but Nadine shot the woman’s argument down very quickly with a wave of her prosthetic arm. Mobility aids were non-negotiationable; so what if he had wheels if her arm was made of metal? Being picked up like a child was humiliating and being set up at the front was another. There was no room for Neytiri with three humans on the Pa’li so she opted to run beside it.

It was still a long trip, though, outside his avatar, he felt much smaller and…vulnerable. He gripped the harness of the Pa’li a little more; unsure how well seated he was though he could see Morgan’s legs were close enough that he was probably scooting back a little into his body; much safer but probably less comfortable for his behind-companion.

But they reached Hometree and they dismounted at the near roots of Hometree. He was lifted down onto the ground, Nadine jumping off, using her prosthetic to take more of the force with a wince but unloaded his chair and let him set it up before they were ushered inwards.

“Whoa…” Morgan looked impressed, craning his head up to look around the vast roots and spirals.

“What?”

“I’ve never been to Hometree before.” Morgan said, “Like…I heard about it but… I wasn’t allowed. Like… Jer and Kim, they’re big and blue so…they were accepted.”

Jake frowned a little though it set his expectation low for certain that it was going to take a lot to be seen as equals here.

Tsu’tey and Eytukan were waiting by the spiral, looking sharp and…ready. Though the sight of him on wheels didn’t look to excite them about their visits but Jake kept his face firm.

“What is that?” Tsu’tey looked a little more disdainful of it, gesturing with the end of his bow.

“My wheelchair. As I said yesterday, this body cannot walk so I must use this aid to get where I want to be within reasonable accessibility” He gave a somewhat of a spin, though it was poor but he was glad the ground was flat enough for ease.

Eytukan nodded though with very little interest. “Neytiri, you will direct two of the humans to work.”

“Can I go to weavers?” Morgan asked Neytiri.

Neytiri eyed him for a moment then nodded. “This way.”

Nadine clapped Jake on the arm. “Call me when you get to any flying vehicles, I know those better than you do.” She added then padded away after Neytiri, her leg’s mechanics oddly loud in comparison.

Jake nodded, carefully peeling off his bag and pulled out his tablet. “I brought images to help and the instruction manuals that tell the reader how things work and in my case, how to damage stuff more efficiently.”

Both chief and Tsu’tey lowered themselves to kneeling for closer inspection.

“Now, before I get into this…I need you to understand that the RDA can’t know that Na’vi will be damaging their equipment. If they know it’s you or any of the Omatikaya then that will give them a plausible reason to come after you much sooner than anticipated. If you kill a soldier, or a scientist or avatar, damn, even us three humans here,” gesturing to himself, “then they can spin the story to look like the victim and you, the Na’vi, the villains that are out to get them.”

“They tell many lies. We know the truth.” Tsu’tey seemed to scoff.

“Hm, what a story. Jake Sully, a paraplegic veteran who survived a harrowing ordeal of war. Escapes the human base for peace and a quiet life in nature, but gets brutally murdered by an alien clan for his presence on their land.” Jake proposed, “Not the heroic story of the Omatikaya, protector of their lands by removing the growing invasion of the sky-people on their territory. I’m sure you can see how that makes you look for those without context. That sad story is a very good motivator for other humans to call for war, or for revenge. Not on me personally, but the next human or the next avatar….whichever winds up at the end of your arrow.” Jake inhaled deeply. “Humans work together very well with the right motivation, right fear, and right grief. You may become their common enemy to fight against which may be all it takes. You destroy their stuff and they know about it, they’ll come for you. If you destroy their stuff and make it look like an accident of nature, then they won’t. I am telling you that secrecy is your necessity. Otherwise, the school shooting is going to look like nothing in comparison to what they will do.”

It pained him a little to bring up such a topic so causally and both the guys seemed to flinch at the reminder but it put their scepticism aside to listen more seriously.

“I’m sorry for what happened and for bringing it up,” Jake apologised, “No more needless deaths on both sides. I am not here to get humans killed because… I am human myself. I am willing to learn and maybe other humans may learn from me. I don’t know. But I do want to help and make sure that you do not lose your home. You shouldn’t have to.”

“How did you get all of this information? They clearly protect their equipment with great reverence. Not simple?”

“Actually, it was very simple.” Jake snorted, “When I came here, I wasn’t here as a scientist so they thought I’d be more useful for their wants and desires. Now, I had already planned to leave when they approached me with a mission. Now, right now that doesn’t look as good for me because what they wanted me to do was to get here and try and learn your ways and…well, try and convince you to leave.” Jake rolled his eyes, knowing full well this statement made the young warrior tense up but he carried on before the guy could interrupt.. “So, I played along so they didn’t suspect. The night before I left, I asked for more sensitive information—information that’s not easy to access unless you’re the leader or head of security. Selfridge literally handed over this information to me when I asked for it. I said I needed to know the whole plan and; where they were going, what they were going to flatten in their path…that sort of thing.” He touched along the tablet, very aware of the burning gaze of Tsu’tey’s suspicion.

He brought up the map, tilting to Eytukan and began to slowly go through the bulldozer’s anticipated pathway. Though it was easy to see the building fury in their eyes at the landmarks in the way, Tsu’tey literally hissed at the sight of white-tendrils willow-like trees being dead in the flattening line.

“No. We will not let this happen!”

“Which is why I’m here. You need to establish your end-point to stop the dozers before you destroy them but until then you need to do everything before that secretly to delay them as long as possible. You have about…ninety days, maybe a little less given this is seven days outdated and the dozers are probably on the road. There are ways to quickly disable the beasts.”

“What are your suggestions?” Eytukan spoke firmly.

“I’ve seen your attacks on the other dozer and ground vehicles. You attack them as if they are animals and mainly aim to disable them by going for the wheels. Not the engine; their heart. The engine is located within protective shells. You tamper with the engine, it’s not going to move. They’re operated now remotely so they reliant on cameras; their eyes…” So Jake carried on, pulling out the data and images to get down into business.

He talked through the dozer’s weak points, easy access first and obvious; but also highlighted the areas exposed to the cameras and ways to get around that., the antenna placement for an emergency hit that’ll knock out the entire thing given it was remotely controlled. Dozers had lots of sensors; what to overload with natural ‘information’ that’d activate a security shutdown. He went through everything the manual had as a risk. Pausing for five minutes was mercy as the two Na’vi began to discuss options in Na’vi.

Jake then moved what vehicles did what on the field; which was the targets to go for, what was useless to attack and disable as they had many replacements on the go or what was simply just expendable. The AMP suits were a problem but Jake had been clear that killing the pilot would be bad and so, would need a non-lethal suggestion; blinding the pilot by covering the canopy with paints had been Nadine’s suggestion when she had finally reappeared.

“How are we supposed to disable the flying beats without killing the pilot? At a fall, they would still perish.” Eytukan asked, eyeing the image of the Scorpion and Samson.

“True, it’s harder to do in the air but those circular things on either side are your best options; high enough, they can jump out with parachute; a safe way to land without a ship than they can lower. You can shoot out the glass but the glass for the ships breaks depending on the vector of your strike but shooting the glass should be a last resort. Go for the wings. Those are called rotator fans; without those, they cannot fly. If one is hit, then they start a decent, and fall into a rotational drift.” Nadine used what looked like a child’s toy as a demonstration of their falling pattern. “They’ll switch from offence to escape.”

Jake watched as she spoke next through each air flying vehicle they had and what to avoid, how their weapons worked to typical formation; drawing the typical response patterns; how to recognise the different shifts and how to counter them.

Morgan even joined in to add more about the soldiers that would be on the ground; what they’ll judge as a worthy threat to what they’ll let pass for their own survival. They’d leave animals be, mostly unless board enough to try for target practice but animals an active threat to them would cause humans to try and shoot, but two animals fighting each other and not caring about the humans then they’re at less risk of a shooting.

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” Jake mused, “The Na’vi could herd some of the bigger animals into the way. Or set scent traps onto the dozers.”

“Scent traps?” Tsu’tey asked.

“Yeah, like coat an important part of something that smells like a threat or a mate and would entice another to it. Augustine told me that there’s a sap that you use to ward off predators. I used that on my first day to avoid Viperwolves….”

“Wait, what did it make you smell like?” Morgan asked, seemingly clocking onto something first. “Like… there’s a few saps that make a smell but it’s very particular. Kim told me all about that and what to expect. The saps we use at camp at night are insect repellent.”

“Not sure. Maybe a Slinth or a slinger?”

Morgan’s head tilted though he seemed to grin a little. “A Slinth.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed at the guy. “What?”

“You got chased away from Augustine’s group by a Slinth…”

“What’s a Slinth?” Nadine asked quietly.

“You ever see a third-stage Demogorgon from Stranger Things on Earth?” Morgan asked cryptically, still grinning.

“I don’t like where that is going.” Nadine wrinkled her nose.

“It’s face opens up.” Jake wrinkled his nose.

Nadine gagged a little, “No!”

“It was not fun.” Jake added, “But, it didn’t attack me outright.”

“Because you were wearing Slinth sap.” Morgan pointed out, “Correct me if I’m wrong but… isn’t the sap used to smell like a Slinth often smell more…feminine?” He posed that question more to the Na’vi but it was open to the group.

Jake’s eyes widened in alarm as his brain caught up with the implication “Wait, it thought I was a female Slinth?!”

Nadine began to snigger.

Morgan nodded, “I bet it was so confused; you looked like a Na’vi but you smelled wonderful and feminine and it wasn’t sure if it liked it.”

“Oh…” Jake felt his cheeks flame, “Well that explains a lot!” It had been so calm, hell, he had even heard Augustine remark how its behaviour was off when he had unlinked that night.

Nadine began to crack up at that, using Morgan to keep herself upright.

The chief clicked his tongue for attention though looked somewhat amused at his ignorance but it was a reminder to get back to the topic.

Eventually, they were dismissed back into helping once they covered the rest. Nadine took him to the weavers; struggling to be overly useful as the fibres kept getting caught in her hand and the cracking sound of the gears was disturbing to the group of women. One of the women suggested a hand covering for her and moved her to basket weaving. Jake had had some mild lessons from N’deh on how to handle the twine but it took more practised hands to help get him going more efficiently. Morgan was…elsewhere but resurfaced covered in paint…or dye.

Of course, as he weaved, needing less time to think about what he was doing as he got comfortable with the twine and pattern, his mind began to wander.

For his first official day, he knew was a lot said and his voice was sore from all the talking but it’d take time for the Omatikaya to trust that information once they no doubt went out to vet it themselves. His talk of the Slinth had brought up Augustine back into his mind.

Her.

Or more precisely, what she was.

Jake knew that he was going to tell them but…he’d need to tell the Eytukan and the Tsahìk mostly. Neytiri and Tsu’tey would be best given they were in the next in line for those positions as well…. And well they probably knew Augustine as well. How they were going to react, he didn’t know but…they deserved to know.

Vampires were a threat.

“Come, Jakesully. Time to return you to camp.” Tsu’tey announced with a sniff, not content but clearly following orders.

Jake pulled himself back into his chair. “Promise not to throw me off the Pa’li halfway back?” He asked, fully expecting the attempt though hoped to lighten the mood.

Tsu’tey considered his words with a sniff. “Not this time.” Though if he looked a little disappointed, he didn't know it.

Grace was glad to be…undisturbed as she studied in her quarters, flicking through her tablet screen on recent samples, making notes to finalise them into a request for the next team to find those plant samples that would be further into Omatikaya territory.

They were all still aware they’d have to keep an eye out for Sully though she hoped to god that it wasn’t her or her team personally that found him. He was a risk she wasn’t willing to take. Of course…one human memory was…somewhat easy to wipe. Kamath was the renowned telepath of the group. But…if she was in her avatar then she couldn’t either stop Jake or get the others to forget; the link room was public after all. She didn’t have the privacy of a link-shack. However, long-term knowledge was hard to remove, according to Kamath. So wiping Jake would be ineffective at best.

So avoidance of him was probably for the best. Though it did make her wonder how he knew...

Grace stole a glance at the time, taking a moment to hope everyone was worn to exhaustion before she pulled off her noise-isolating headphones. Kathrine’s idea and recent gift had been these headphones to each of them from the MineOps, Though their super hearing was far superior, it still hampered their hearing enough to just about five meters in all directions than what it used to be. It was nice, to be more cut off. More popular most nights for those vampires not feeding or hooking up with someone. They had acknowledged as a group to be aware they’d not have much privacy with each other given their heightened senses, one of the reasons Grace actively never slept with anyone since.

The ambient sound of a sleeping Hell’s Gate returned to her ears, making her groan a little before she let her ears readjust again; the buzzing lights, thundering heartbeats, sleeping breaths of those asleep…

“Grace!” Paz’s sharp voice echoed through the sharp quietness in alarm, though her tone set her worry off immediately. Grace shoved herself out of her chair, forcing herself to remain at a brisk running pace given the cameras active in this area but made it otherwise record time down the corridor, her shoes skidding through at the smell of blood that ticked her throat.

Paz kneeling next to the slumped form of Ashely Sloan who was leant up against one of the pipes, The woman was of her avatar drivers, supporting the woman’s body and head mostly up and still and for good reason by the blade sticking out of the woman’s neck. Ashely’s eyes were hazy and blood did seem to drip down her lips and chin which did suggest the blade had pierced through her pipe though it wasn’t as much which meant the blade was stopping the bleeding for now. The fact the woman was conscious was good, even for her non-medical eye, that was good. Sloan looked to have bruises as well, Her left eye and cheekbone were swollen but thankfully, it seemed like she was fully clothed but it didn’t make this attack anything less than tragic and unnecessary.

Paz looked very…allured by the blood, her irises were black with thirst now and her teeth were sharpened into her dual fangs though her breath was held. She must have been looking for her next meal than to come across this. This wasn’t good if baby Miles had been feeding more himself off her supply.

“Paz, go and get medical now.” Grace dropped down, her hand coming to replace Paz’s on the woman’s neck; keeping her neck still and pressing down to keep the blade stable. Given the state of the woman, there was no way of getting consent; not to mention…this would bring up a lot of questions if her attacker thought her dead.

Paz lingered, licking her lips until Grace hissed enough, baring her own teeth to get her attention away. Paz jumped to her feet, dashing off with a pitiful whine echoing after her.

“Someone, get Quaritch!” Grace echoed back.

“Fuckin hell…” Mansk’s voice echoed but she heard him move and get out of bed.

“She’s lucky to be alive, right now, she’s stable and if all goes to plan, she may make a full recovery” Dr Drennek finished. “If help had been any later, she would have bled out by the time she had reached medical bay.”

Grace was in her bunk, listening to the debrief Selfridge and Quaritch from the surgeon them on Sloan’s condition in Selfridge’s office. By the sounds of it, Selfridge sounded tired but…Quaritch was fired up; his heart thundering in quiet rage as the woman spoke.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Selfridge dismissed the woman sharply

Quaritch huffed out, his feet echoing as he turned. “I’m taking this investigation. Augustine’s given me her report on the matter along with Socorro.” His voice wavered a little on her but he remained professional. “When Sloan can link up with her avatar, then she can give me her report. I’ll need Augustine to talk with medical that possibility. Once Sloan’s…out of the danger zone.”

“Okay, but let’s keep this on the down-low, here.” Selfridge decided, pulling both the Coronel’s attention to him. “Finish your investigation but be discreet.”

Grace frowned though she could already see this was going to be leaked regardless. No one was going to be happy.

“Excuse me?” Quaritch grilled.

“Look, we can’t afford this getting out. The last thing we need is rumours of ‘attempted murder’ in Hell’s Gate when people still have to live with each other. We don’t need people getting paranoid or scared. I trust you to use your team, Miles, but this stays in-house. You can tell Augustine to keep her trap shut about the incident. This is being handled.”

“You’re handing her ire when she comes up here to complain.” The Colonel spoke, not sounding pitiful.

There was only a few seconds pause before Grace realised someone was walking towards her bunk, not even knocking before Walker came strolling in with a fixed glare straight at her and slammed the door after her.

“You shouldn’t have interfered.” Walker hissed, her teeth sharp in her mood. “Or at the very least turned her like you did with Hale or Socorro.”

“No point going onto the what-ifs here. Paz didn’t slip up and I actually will keep one of my people alive. I don’t turn just anyone I come across dying without them giving consent to it.”

“Oh boo-fucking-who, Grace. Any investigation is a risk!”

“And what about her attacker? Huh? What’s he gonna do when he sees his victim up and about, all healed and no injury? Do you think he’s not gonna wonder? Gonna approach her again? Sloan is scrappy as fuck and will certainly kill him. That will be a risk.”

There was already of lot of vampires and Grace…didn’t want to add to that again. Would she have turned her? Probably. But she felt the woman had a lot of strength to keep fighting as a human. No point in snuffing out that light needlessly. This wasn’t like last time—crash landed then otherwise stranded on a floating mountain for hours, waiting for a new Samson to rescue with two dying humans. They had a medical facility within reasonable range here. Plus, it wasn’t like any of them had attacked to kill anyway so Grace didn’t care.

“This isn’t about her attacker, you had no reason to go straight there. You weren’t casual, you didn’t have a radio on you and they’re gonna notice that on the camera feeds. You…didn’t even make it look convincing that you even stumbled across Socorro or Sloan.”

“So what? It’s not like you’ve never stopped an attack either. Go sniff out the attacker if you’re so inclined, his scent was there. Might be good to tip Quaritch off on who to look for and close up the investigation.” Grace growled, using her power to open her door and shove the other vampire out into the hallway then slammed it after her.

Doctor Drennek eyed the woman who lay on the bed, tubes down her throat to keep her breathing uncompromised for the next few days. A pitiful sight that was once again, another attack. Non-sexual which was a relief but it probably started off as a rejection that went to violence.

Sloan’s major injury was the neck wound. Her left eye and cheek were swollen with mild fractures and her arms and back had bruises on. The back of her arms had defensive cuts. All injuries were noted on their report but… Drennek felt this was just going to go nowhere.

Again.

Aside from the victim, there was nothing to go off and no known perpetrator. Doctor Sloan wasn’t able to answer and…she doubted she’d be ready to, even when she was awake.

“Mind if I come in?” A voice echoed softly. “I’ve got time to kill so… I kinda don’t wanna leave her…alone.” The woman in the doorway was tall, shoulder-length copper hair with sharp facial features and dark blue eyes. It shouldn’t surprise her really that Trinity Harper had taken it upon herself to be here. Victims often sought out each other for or to offer help.

Drennek turned though nodded softly. “Of course,” she spoke. “I was going to request a female guard for her anyway.”

Harper nodded, though her eyes remained sad as she stood just in at the door. “How long will she be like this?”

“A few weeks. She’ll have access to her avatar when she’s awake and stable but not medically cleared for anything.” Drennek spoke. “She was lucky.”

Harper made a disagreeing sound. “She still won’t be safe here, Doc. Especially after she wakes”

Drennek didn’t say anything. What could she say? No one here was truly safe. People got away with a lot. Too much. She didn’t know how it got past Quaritch but… it had. They were only fortunate this time that of all people, Dr Augustine, the head of SciOps got involved to kick the head of Security into action. Her position was favourable this time and…well Augustine was a well-known bitch at inconveniences and this was one that directly impacted her department.

Harper sighed. “A few weeks… We can work with that.”

Heres the Masterlist for the other chapters

#avatar #avatar au #avatar james cameron #grace augustine #avatar the way of water #mo'at #jake sully #neytiri #avatar rda #vampire #norm spellman #miles quaritch #parker selfridge

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saltygilmores · 1 year

Text

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls: Season 1, Episode 21 (Love, Daisies, and Troubadors). Part II

Want to read part 1 and the rest of my season 1 reviews? Check out my pinned post.

Dean's empty chair. This portrait belongs in the Stars Hollow Museum, with the caption stating: "This Chair Represents A Time Dean Forrester Left And Wasn't Around And Everyone Was Happy."

Tomatos Sign: Spotted. Luke: Nothing much pressing at the town meeting. LOL the casual non-mention of Rory's speech. My second hand embarrassment meter is just throbbing hot right now for poor Rory. To get ya'll up to speed, several minutes ago, Luke was having a discussion with Lorelai about his difficulty making the transition from "loner" to "Having Girlfriend". But this is no longer an issue as Rachel has decided to go bye bye. Luke: Is there another guy? Rachel: No, it's another girl. Luke: *brain malfunctions* *sizzle* *fatal error*

Errr, I think you oughta just come right out and say what you really mean, girl. You're about to give him a stroke.

"What other girl...Ohhhhh."

Bye. Off to the Land of Short Lived & Unremarkable Exes You Go, Honey. You can spend your days frolicking with Nicole, that guy Alex (I liked Alex), and Shane. Rachel: Don't wait too long...to tell her. Narrator: And he would wait way too long to tell her.

Buzzfeed Quiz: Are you A Slutty Thursday Afternoon Girl, A Virgin Mary, or A Milk Whore?

Paris gazes at Rory with quiet awe, before lashing out at her in another transparent attempt to mask her true feelings for the love of her life. Paris: When I first met you I didn't like you because I thought you were just some rube from the sticks and I have no patience for rubes. But then I realized you're not dumb and you can be modestly interesting sometimes. Go on. Paris: I gave the music reviewer job to Louise. Rory: But she only owns two cds! Sick early 2000's burn.

They may not own many compact discs, but they still rule the school. And now for another one of our favorite segments, L&L throwing around tool-related words which make any conversation sound filthy.

Lorelai: I named your toolbox Bert and I have conversations with him. Luke: Thanks for taking care of my toolbox. Speaking of tools.

These two are gross and insufferable. Just twist the fucking knife into poor Luke's heart not 15 seconds after he told you he just got dumped. He doesn't need to see that shit.

He has the greatest Folgers.

Lorelai prefers MY toolbox. She wants to keep MY toolbox in her house. She loves my toolbox so much she NAMED IT and she TALKS to it.

I can fix her porch rail like a MAN. I fixed her porch rail three times today. I broke her porch rail just so I could bang on it again. She was all like, "Luke please pound it one more time" and "Luke, won't this wake the neighbors!" What do you have to offer, a ring pop?

Oh I bet he is.

MAX'S FACE. Maybe Rachel & Max should get together and bond after being sidelined by Luke & Lorelai, to form the big suckhole of mediocrity the world has ever seen, and breed a bunch of mediocre High School English Teacher Photojournalist babies.

Your penises she means your penises.

Lorelai, you filthy lying Milk Whore. MaxMedina: We were apart for a while, I didn't assume you joined a convent or anything. Max is about to propose to her-the second impromptu proposal Lorelai has recieved in just one season, having already fended off Christopher's advances. Honestly at this point if I were Lorelai I would be done with men and join a convent (or live with Mrs. Kim). Rory, you're on your own kid. Christopher proposed to her in the kitchen to end an argument, while Max chose the classier option and proposes in the living room to end an argument. Max and Lorelai get into a pointless argument about how much they dated around while they were broken up. Max confesses to being a bit of a Thursday Afternoon Milk Whore. Giving out a lot of ring pops.

LETS.

Listen lady, I appreciate your blunt honesty but I'm trying to get over that traumatic incident okay? And also the fact that you disclosed Rory was concieved on said balcony. Max: There's only one thing we could do to fix our relationship. Lorelai: Well, I'm not into the Murder-suicide thing.

I think I would have been happier with the murder-suicide option. Instead of saying "You can fuck right off with your mediocore English-Teaching, soda-sipping, ring-pop sucking ass" to her short-term, on-again-off-again boyfriend, Lorelai doesn't immeadiately say no, but instead gives him advice on how to propose to her properly. Lorelai then says uhh, let's just have a little do over, forgives him, and they go on with their evening forgetting that he just proposed marriage to her. As they walk out the door, Lorelai says goodbye to Bert (Luke's toolbox/ penis metaphor). Diet Logan harrasses Rory about not taking his concert ticket. Rory:"Just when I was making progress with Paris, now she hates me again." DL: "Well, the damge is already done so you might as well come with me." God, what an assclown.

Enjoying this assertive version of Rory while I still can because she isn't going to be around forever. . DL: Those tickets cost a fortune. RoryGil: They cost your daddy a fortune. Now why couldn't she say more shit like that to Logan? Ugh. He would have never made any headway into her life if she stood her ground like this as an adult. DL: I don't know anyone who's into this stupid guy. RoryGil: PJ Harvey's a woman. Bahahahahaa. Diet Logan, you clown. DL fucking GRABS RORY'S BOOKS AND TRIES TO BLACKMAIL HER TO GET THEM BACK. I'm sorry, what?!

Listen Rory, maybe now would be a good time to think about joining that convent with your mother/living with Mrs. Kim. There is no hope for TeenageBoyKind. Yeah, yeah, I know Jess is just around the corner but that's going to be an even bigger shit show. A shit show of massive proportions. Cut off the male species at the pass and call it a loss. Run away with Paris Geller, the real love of your life. How can get this scene get any worse? Hold onto your ring pops, folks. Stock up on eye bleach. We're about to witness the most awkward and disgusting kiss in the entire series, perhaps even a notch above the time Paris was making out with that old man professor boyfriend. I come bearing screen shots, people. You have been warned. Turn back now. Only the courageous of heart should proceed.

What a charmer. You too can be a Dean if you follow these simple steps: 1.Wear stupid leather jacket and drive stupid car. 2.Drive stupid car and wear stupid leather jacket to surprise ex girlfriend at school. 3.See ex girlfriend in the presence of another boy with no other context whatsoever. 4.Rage. 5.Proceed to do a little manipulative, pouty act. 6."I'm an idiot." 7."I shouldn't have come here." 8..Wait for girlfriend to cry "Dean, no, wait" 9.Pout some more. 10."I came out all the way out here and I see you with HIM!" 11."That's just GREAT." 12.Manipulate ex girlfriend into apologizing to YOU when she didn't want the other boy around in the first place and didn't ask you to be there either. 13. Act pissy when Ex girlfriend gives you the explanation you wanted as to why Diet Logan has her books. 14. Repeat step 7 as she's apologizing to you for no reason and start walking away. Ah yes, Diet Logan, the boy Rory is so madly in love with and four seconds earlier wasn't thinking about pushing off a steep cliff.

Rory's What The Hell is Happening to Me Right Now face. Dean has a box of RoryStuff, just like Rory has a DeanBox, and somehow that's so much worse. SO much worse. No wonder Dean doesn't want Clara in his room. She doesn't need to find his sick mementos. He's probably got like, a lock of her hair and one of her teeth in that box.

RORY-GIL THIS IS NOT THE TIME NOR THE PLACE FOR POLITE CONVERSATION. YOU NEED TO FLEE.

Hey there Buttzilla, I will not tolerate any disrespect for Rory's courageous, heartfelt, and deliciously cheesy speech. She is a role model for us introverts. We should all wish to emulate Season 1 RoryGil's heart, courage and tenacity to give that speech in the room full of weird townies, only to recieve no reaction. She's been through it. You sir, can go take a flying leap into an active volcano. I hear dumb teenage boys in ugly leather jackets who don't know how to kiss make the best volcanic sacrifices. Oooh boy people, we're going to have to make this a three-parter. Ran out of room again! I will not sacrifice screen shots for my art. See you soon for the thrilling conclusion. Happy Thanksgiving, I'm about to ruin it!

#gilmore girls #paris geller #paris gellar #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 1 #love daisies and troubadors #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore #luke danes #Anti Dean Forrester #Max Medina #ring pops

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c-sunflower01 · 9 months

Text

CAN'T RELATE

⸻ tw: rant, unrelatability, trauma, family issues

sometimes I wonder if

the trauma I hold is

even my own.

I'd hear books of stories

of pain and suffering

lingering in the

m e m o r y

of my brain that echoes

into feelings that just appear.

I'm

not

a victim

of any form of despair;

a healthy body with

decent intellect to

actually function

in a society that doesn't accept

outliers.

it's funny how I acquaint

with people who only had

problems on their shoulders

(I hear them, cursing the people around them

...I wondered if I were one of them)

I can't join every conversation

because there wasn't a place

for a boring average person

who is grateful for their life, their family,

their achievements

to join a group of

kindred spirits

who shared

their worries

their tears

their pains

(because I don't have

such things)

I lie to myself -

you must have something like them

you think of something that they understand

you realize it's futile and never joined in

(even if you badly want to - you could never join in)

because my frustrations

are nothing compared to their scars

my emotions are still bareable to breathe with

( y e t I a m c o n s t a n t l y s u f f o c a t i n g )

and guilt overwhelms me when I try to speak

" my parents are unreasonable "

(my parents and I get along just fine)

" I can't stand their unjustified behavior "

(there wasn't anything to be mad at in the first place)

" God I want to rant about it "

(I want to join in too, but my life is not like yours for you to understand and even if I try to talk- I'll end up ruining your mood. If I dare speak I'd be a thorn on the field of cotton buds blossoming in the spring. An annoying fly that buzzes around as you try to let out the frustrations you held on)

and I could only say repetitive phrases

I've always said in the past,

because I can't comfort a broken person

who seeks for someone to understand them

I can't be that person - because I'm not like that

and I just watch at the sidelines

as other people support each other, and I clap

I'm happy for them

because I knew they deserved

the love

and care

they could never have before

(but I cradle myself to sleep

knowing that nothing good comes my way)

- an average person has nothing

going for them, only a flimsy

existence that dissipates quickly

and the negative part of my brain

hopes they keep suffering. - that

they live in sorrow so I can

elevate my worth more than I could

ever imagine - thoughts my morality

despises for existing ( and I berate

myself for even thinking)

in the silence on my own;

they frolicked together

across meadows and oceans of

endless venture - and I just watch

because they never invite me

because I am not like them

because even if I'm considered a friend

I'm just a person they brought in

because I was there when a group

of people came together and

deemed each other friends

and I'm stuck alone again and again,

seeing people get closer and closer as I

stand there eternally alone - watching watching

watching watching watching their moments play out

I'm stained with envy as I could never take the chance

just wanting to be part of their world - their life story

because I'm always sick on living in my own tiny bubble

endlessly lamenting my flaws until I crack myself

down over and over again - because no one ever

notices the fool that tries to fit in - the average

wallflower listening the same tales of tragedy

same problems, same worries over and over

like a chant that just brings out my insecurities-

(I d o n t w a n t t o b e l i k e t h a t)

....

I try to find meaning in my life

because no one else could

no one knows my story

and it's funny that even I

faked being apathetic

just to not have my identity

be shattered

as I listened to another story

that will never be like mine

#sad poem #sad thoughts #rant #poetic rant #writing #poetry #poem #emotions #frustrated with a lot of feelings its kinda hard to not word it #written ages ago but somehow it still hurts #midnight thoughts #angst

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voidedjuice · 1 year

Note

What's Lilia's deal? Is she a higher entity from the void or another being affected by it? also will Cecily ever figure out modern technology?

Thanks for the ask!!

Lilia's deal requires some more lore explanation about the different beings in the void so I''l start with a bit of basic info about them and then go into her. Basically, there are three types of beings native to the void with different roles in relation to maintaining it in a shape that can support life, often called dolls/ragdolls of the void or something similar (voiddolls for short):

The maintainers, whose role is to fix and clean things, purifying the rot that inevitably affects all worlds before it spreads too far. Additionally they often research phenomena relating to the void (for example anomalies), or different worlds and their people. Stitched together by some force, can look pretty much like anything, and can consist of whatever material falls into the void. Because of how they're stitched together, they can pretty freely switch up their appearances and components though, with human forms being considered trendy and cool at the moment.

The destroyers, whose job is to destroy things that are causing issues, or that are too rotten to be purified by a maintainer. They tend to have a fairly tense relationship with the maintainers, due to their job being to destroy the things they're trying to protect and maintain. Their appearances tend to be a bit more eldritch and slashy, however occasionally you see some compressing themselves into smaller, more easily understandable forms in order to communicate easier with other beings (and for fun, not many things you can do just flying around a vast emptiness as a gigantic mass of blades or something like that).

The weavers, whose job it is to weave the void together whenever it starts to fray particularly much. They tend to have fairly short lifespans, just existing for this one limited time job that's neccessary only at very long intervals.

Lilia is a weaver-type voiddoll who sewed herself into the body of a maintainer in order to keep living and exploring what she had created. This sort of a thing was virtually unheard of before her, and she's widely seen as a destabilising force because she's not really supposed to be alive currently, so nobody really knows what sorts of things her existence could cause.

She's very strong but kind of just does what she wants, frolicking around the place getting to know whatever interests her at the moment. Many want to study her, many want to use her for their ends, many want to kill her in order to get things back to how they "should be"... She's just here to have fun though.

#her extra hands are repurposed from her weaver form/added in later from arms she has acquired over the years #shes got way more of them than are visible but she likes to keep things practical #oc lore #i should draw her again one of these days #oc #text

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bukojuiice · 3 years

Text

— genshin boys as your college roommates who are head over heels in love with you

ೃ ft. childe, diluc, kaeya, zhongli, and xiao x gn! reader

ೃ 400-600 words per character! ♡

ೃ warnings: mention of alcohol drinking ( but aside from that, just lots and lots of fluff!)

ೃ this is my very first writing contribution to the genshin fandom, so i hope everyone likes it! after 5 months of playing genshin, i think it’s safe to say my brainrot for it has finally consumed me and i’m confident enough to brew something up! <3

ೃ genshin impact masterlist

ೃ if you want to be a part of my taglist, answer this form! ♡

CHILDE:

– You and Childe are the perfect embodiment of the best friends to roommates trope. Whenever you wanna sleep in for 5 minutes more and you’re about to run late for your first class, Childe never fails to slowly drag you out of your bed, laughing as he does so. “Wake up sunshine!” is the first thing you always hear in the morning and you don’t complain if you get to hear his smexy voice anyway. He is a confident flirt and is not afraid to show you how much he cares or how much he pines over you.

– He’s always always there to save the day. There was a time when your classmates stood you up on the group project you were making, and guess who comes up to you with glitter, glue, and colored paper? Childe, of course! He stayed up until the wee hours of the night with you just so he can help you finish it. He even promises to set things in a “very civil way” with your absolute jerk groupmates the very next day. You practically hang out with him 24/7 as most of the time he just barges in your shared apartment with some amusement park tickets on hand or to some expensive yoga or judo class. There’s never a dull moment with him and with each passing day, the more you fall harder for him.

– After a morning jog with him and seeing cute little dogs frolicking around with their married owners, Childe suddenly had the urge to adopt a dog with you. But, due to a no pets rules established by the landlord, the two of you opt to owning hamsters instead! Childe named his hamster, narwhal (after his favorite animal of course!) whereas you named yours bunny, to match his irrelevant pet name picking. your hamsters both share the same house/cage and even they are pining over each other.

– His siblings visit a lot, especially Teucer. At this point, there was never a day the little boy didn’t ask when are you and Childe going to finally become “playground playmates” (a term for lovers that they use in second grade apparently) since the two of you are living with each other and seem so close. Childe is always able to successfully change the topic and shift away from talking about the shared feelings that the both of you have for each other. But, alas, the day had finally came to be and during your monthly trip to the amusement park, Childe confidently confesses to you on top of the ferris wheel.

“So... everyone in my life knows that you’re my best friend. Yea, that’s pretty cool and all but... Can we be more than just that (Y/N)? Is there hope if I think there could be something between us?”

DILUC:

– Diluc is your posh and rich roommate who sounds and looks too good to be true. The fact that you’re roomies with the literal heir to the country’s biggest wine and beverage company sounds like something straight out of a fanfic. But, it was of his volition to decide to live in a penthouse near Teyvat University. It was the doings of his step-brother Kaeya who tricked him into getting a roommate so that he won’t be alone for the rest of his college years... aaand that’s where you come in. practically barged into his life, but, you were a blessing. an angel sent from the skies.

– He’s quite cold and unapproachable at first, only greeting you whenever he sees you but never bothered to engage in small talk with you. Even if the both of you go to the same university. It wasn’t until your second month as roommates, when you accidentally had too much to drink after a friends’ night out. You come home to see him in the living room, drinking grape juice from a wine glass, and watching a rerun of Hannah Montana. You practically collapse at the front door, he rushes to you and helps you up as you drunkenly confess to him in tears how you wanted to become much closer to him especially since the two of you are going to spend the rest of your college years together. That was when Diluc realized how distant and aloof he’s been and vows to make it up to you.

– Diluc is very talented. Albeit in very discreet way, he makes sure to make use of his talents especially if it’s an opportunity to make memories with you. He is an amazing cook as much as he tries to deny it, He’s a secret virtuoso caught in 4k when you impulsively bought a guitar one time and you asked if he knows how to play, and he does so well. He practically serenades you in the most non-obvious way possible. Lastly, He’s very athletic. You invited him to play tennis one time, betting that if he won, you would do his bidding for the rest of the week. Before you could even blink, he wins. His “punishment” for you was that you accompany him in binge-watching TV Dramas. Grey’s Anatomy and Downtown Abby are just some of the shows the two of you would watch. It is absolutely adorable seeing him so invested in these dramas. and since the next on Diluc’s list were sit-coms, you were preparing yourself to answer his questions on the context of jokes that he didn’t get. In a poor attempt to flirt with you, he calls out your name and recites in the most Joey Tribbiani voice he could muster, “How you doin?” You were laughing so so hard that night because his pick up line actually worked on you and suddenly your realizations came full circle: you were very much in love with him too.

– His naturally cool yet shy nature had always gotten the best of him. He’s always wanted to ask if you wanted to carpool with him to school. Riding with him in his Tesla sportscar that goes 150 Mph? Heck yeah. However, it took quite a while before he could muster up the courage to ask you (4 months of being roommates until he finally popped the question) Since then, the two of you go home to and from University whenever you had similar schedules. Ever since then, Diluc had began to soften. His cold and hard facade slowly melted. Asking if you could help tie his floofy red hair then he’d let you play with it and let you style it in different ways. He takes you out on café dates during lunch breaks and take you out to watch a movie after both of your late night lectures. Everyone in campus thinks the two of you are practically together at this point. All that was left was to bare your feelings with one another through a fumbling and awkward confession.

“Words cannot not suffice these feelings I’ve been harboring for you since the very beginning. I L-like you a lot. Do you feel the same way too?”

KAEYA:

- Everyone loves Kaeya. Your friends and family, The School Faculty, The owner of the Convenience Store from down the street, The old lady who lives next door, The little kids from down the hall, and even the angry brown poodles from the farthest apartment to your right absolutely loved him. it was hard to keep up with having a roommate that not only were you crushing so hard on, but also had such a vibrant social life. Kaeya interacts and socializes with a lot of people and he admits that it does tend to get tiring at times. But, if these sacrifices lead to coming home to his cute roommate who has captivated his heart since Day 1, then it’s all worth it.

— Despite how warm and friendly he may seem, Kaeya is a very private person. He’s brought two or three friends like Jean, Lisa, Albedo, or Rosaria. But, only to discuss school affairs. He wasn’t the kind of person who trusts others easily, even if he was giving off the impression that he was a trustworthy and reliable person himself. He’d much rather spend time with you on days off from school. He may be a party guy on the outside (he insists he does it for future connections when he graduates) but he’s quite a homebody. Kaeya is the type to watch korean dramas and anime with you, go on late night convenience store cravings, and these always resulted in a perfect evening spent with him. When the both of you are fully immersed into the anime and things get a bit cozy, you rest your head on his shoulder, huddling for warmth.

— Kaeya would always come home with a little something for you. May it be take-out food, A trinket, a board game, an accessory, and even skincare products. The indigo-haired man is very particular about self-care and you bet that he’s bought different kinds of face masks, ointments, and even matching cute headbands just for the two of you! He’s very flamboyant and flirts with you a lot. Trying to impress you with pick up lines and suggestive jokes, but you always thought that he was just joking around because that was always a part of his personality. It was always a part of him. For Kaeya on the other hand, it seems to him that you don’t take him seriously and it's possible that you don’t return his feelings at all. He had to set things straight and it didn’t take long until Kaeya found the perfect opportunity to do so.

— With the help of practically everyone in the apartment, Kaeya is about to surprise you with a candle-lit dinner up on the apartment rooftop. His sly smooth-talking quickly convinced you that the both of you were just going to go out on your nightly convenience store trips. Your curiosity grows when he takes you by the hand, covering you with a blindfold, and whispering to your ear, “Do you trust me?” Gripping onto his hand tightly, the both of you go up some stairs and you reply, “Yes Kaeya, I do.” He slowly uncovers the shield from your eyes and your eyes sparkle at the sight of the candle-lit dinner, complete with jazz music, and a romantic view of the city.

“(Y/N)... You are the most precious person to me. I hope you can take me seriously, especially my feelings. I am saying this with my heart in my hand and with nothing but genuine love in my soul.”

ZHONGLI:

— Zhongli is truly husband material. You’re saying this as his friend, as his roommate, and as someone who’s absolutely smitten over him. He’s a third year environmental archaeology student at Teyvat University. Gentle, kind, and has nothing but wise and intelligent things to say. your lovestruck self can’t help but just admire him from afar, not knowing that he too has been entranced by you ever since you moved in.

—He's always the first to wake up in the morning. The first thing he does is make you a cup of coffee. He's got your favorite memorized, (Coffee with cream. Not to sweet and not too bitter.) The both of you own matching mugs, (written in colored scribbled letters, “The Wise Roommate” for Zhongli and “The Cute Roommate” for you.) He always wants to spend his free mornings with you. Both of you have different schedules so you never see each other at Campus and this was the only blissful time of the day you can spend with one another. Once you get home for dinner, (Zhongli is always the first to get home if he doesn’t stay too long at the library or strolling around the city) If it’s your turn to cook or if it’s his, he never forgets to brew you oolong tea after dinner. A perfect chance for the two of you to just talk the night away and engage in deep and meaningful conversations.

—Zhongli fell in love with you because you just quietly listen to him. Sometimes, you would share your thoughts and insights, even sharing your own personal knowledge that Zhongli had not known prior. You were one of the very few people in his life whom he could talk about absolutely anything with. Well, who wouldn’t listen to a handsome man who has a voice as smooth as butter? He is very passionate about his studies. Taking a lot of extra courses and spending a lot of money on his research. and so, most of the time, he spends all of his Mora on his extra studies (excluding the money he needs to pay for rent) and other interesting antiques. You understood why though. So, instead, you ask him to accompany you to do mundane chores. Going grocery shopping, doing the laundry and cleaning the apartment. He always helps in any way he can. The prying eyes of people around you and the old lady fr next door boldly coming up to you to ask if you and Zhongli were a married couple. You blush profusely whereas Zhongli coolly denies the woman's claims. It hurt quite a little but who were you to complain?

— It was during one of your night strolls with Zhongli. He had invited you out after dinner under the guise of wanting to have some fresh air and find a clear spot for the fireworks from a nearby festival. Your heart was thumping loudly to a non-existent rhythm, blissfully unaware that Zhongli was feeling a burst in his chest too. He clears his throat and his shoulders straighten. Zhongli puts his hand on your shoulder and breathes deeply. His cool and gentlemanly aura still radiating off of him as always. A wonderful array of colors fill the sky as his lips began to form the words he's always wanted to say:

"Tonight is beautiful isn't it? I thought that this would be the perfect time to open my heart up to you... You are a diamond in the rough that few see the beauty of. My beloved– Will you accept my feelings?

XIAO:

— Having a popular twitch streamer as your roommate was a one in a million chance. Especially if you’re not even an influencer or internet figure yourself. But, how did this come to be? Why have you developed a crush on Xiao aka VigilantYaksha without knowing who he was? A gamer with over 6 million followers on different social media platforms? Simple, a high-end apartment near Teyvat University had a special discount if you were willing to be roommates with someone. It’s an amazing deal, near your school, cost-efficient, and you believed the 10% chance of scoring a hot roommate as seen on reality TV and romantic comedies. It was like rolling through a Gacha Game and getting a 5 star character. As that “character” is soon to be revealed as Xiao.

— Things started off rocky at first. On your first day, he flatly welcomed you by the door, introduced himself, then quickly retreated back to his room. As soon as you locked eyes with him, he gave off a certain cold and unfriendly aura. You wanted to get to know him better. Maybe with a little love and care, he could open up to you and you could become friends! That same day, you had mistakenly thought of your room as his and you walked in on him streaming a horror game. He wasn’t spooked by the jumpscares. But instead, he was looking at you in horror because you’ve just exposed yourself to thousands of people. You wave at the camera, apologize, and left. Since then, his fans, (called the Anemo Tofus) have been shipping the two of you together. Creating fanfiction and fanart of Xiao and the mysterious roommate that accidentally walked in on him. They practically begged Xiao to at least talk a little bit about you, to which, he declined. When you surprised him with dinner (as a little treat since this was your first week with him) He sits across the table from you, his eyes gazing deep into yours, as he pops the question, in a very tsundere tone: “Would you like to appear in my streams? T-the Anemo Tofus wanna learn more about you. B-but, if you don’t want to, it’s alright! You don’t have to-” You cut him off before he could continue his doubts, “Xiao! What are you saying? I’d love to!”

— There was something blossoming between the two of you after that particular dinner with him. Starting with your first “roommate video” that you had thought of when you were brainstorming for video ideas. It was an Almond and Mapo Tofu mukbang whilst the two of you answered questions from fans! The viewers noticed how visibly comfortable he was around you despite his usual reserved attitude. He was cracking up a lot more sarcastic and self-deprecating jokes whilst Tofu filled both of your mouths. Outside of the confines of social media and inside the comfortable space that was your apartment, you and Xiao grew closer. Wearing matching hoodies, going on midnight snack runs, playing in arcades, and stargazing with him up on the rooftop as you contemplate about life and talk about the mysteries of the universe. There were times when you would stay up late doing school works and would accidentally fall asleep on the sofa. Xiao would come out of room because he periodically had cases of insomnia. When he sees you on the sofa, he can’t help but smile at your sleeping figure and admire your beauty. First. he brings all your clutter back to your room then slowly picks you up from the couch, into his arms, and brings you back to your room. He places a blanket on top of you and your stuffed plushies next to you so you can hug them any time.

— On a particular night, you fell asleep on the sofa once again and begun to have recurring nightmares. Xiao was there to witness you whimpering, muttering to yourself, and shivering to a mental image that he could not see. (He wishes he could erase all the pain that these nightmares were giving you) You subconsciously grab onto his hand, murmuring to yourself: “Xiao, please don’t go.” He whispers back, “I won’t.” Your nerves slowly relax when you feel the Yaksha squeezing himself to lie next to you on the couch. Holding onto your arm, he continues to reassure you that it was going to be okay. You grab onto him, hugging him from behind. He feels your heartbeat revert back to it’s normal pace and you return back to your peaceful slumber. “I’ll always be here for you, (Y/N). I’ll be here to protect you. Forever and always.” Turning to you to plant a kiss on your forehead, you nestle your head on Xiao’s chest. He watches as you cling to him for love and warmth until he is slowly whisked away by his weariness, rewarded with a peaceful sleep he hasn’t felt in a while.

“And they were roommates.”

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jotatetsuken · 2 years

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Can I request for I want a baby prank with Guren Ichinose??? Ive been dreaming about that guy a lot recently <333

Awww sure thing Ro!!!! Guren's such a dreamy boy <3333 This gif and this website helped me channel my idea with this prompt for this scenario: Them huddled by the fireplace at night after making snow angels in the fresh snow. Oh and since it's been a while since I've watched Owari no Seraph, I'm sorry if this doesn't come out well. Oh and as a bonus, I thought of the song, Sweater Weather while writing this :D Anyway, let’s do thissss!

When we tell Guren Ichinose that we “want a baby”:

Warning: suggestive content <3, minors dni pleaseeee

Shyna's Seiyuu Birthday Celebration

He then brings his hand forward and introduces himself, “I am Guren Ichinose, the lieutenant Colonel of the Japanese Imperial Demon Army. I present to you two options: strive to live a normal life and risk being a target all over again,” then shrugs his shoulders and continue, “or you could join me and we could exterminate them together. You’ll be under my protection, I promise.” You bite your lower lip, pondering about the offer that was just presented to you. You weren’t someone that was into fighting, let alone slapping someone. But, in this cruel world that you were living in, you were needing to stand up for yourself. You then put your hand forward, accepting his offer. “I am (F/N) (L/N). I accept your offer, Lieutenant Guren,” you respond with a smile.

It’d been four years since the day that Guren kept you warm and safe from your vampiric partner, whom you'd run away from. You were working hard to join the Vampire Extermination Unit, but to no avail. It's not that you were weak. Oh, you certainly were not like the person Guren saw then. Lost, frail and having nowhere to go. You'd become stronger and smarter in your own right, being able to wield a sword faster than any of the initial candidates.

You were just too scared that you'd not be able to do your job well. Moreover, there was something that the Army didn't know: you'd begun a four year tryst with Guren. When you two weren't busy completing missions, both of you would find excuses to go to secluded places and immerse yourselves in each other.

From making out to lovemaking to doing it rough, you'd done it all. Every touch, every breath, every heartbeat. You'd made yourselves known to each other intimately.

You'd even decided to go on a couple of dates together, either by the vending machines or parks or by the fountains. His playful nature wasn't hidden from you, and he even had one of the best smiles in the entire regiment. He was also someone that valued teamwork and was strategic in his approach. It was official, you were becoming giddy over him.

But while you were slowly able to let your walls crumble down, Guren however, kept stuff to himself. While he was able to slowly reveal his past, you felt that he wasn't revealing enough. So, you came up with an idea.

You'd just come back from the hospital, where one of your friends had just given birth to a baby girl, where you'd warned your friend to run to a city that wasn't occupied by vampires yet, and promised her that you'd bring them back home safely. You'd then come outside your apartment to find Guren cladding thicker jackets on top of his uniform. He said, “Babe, let's go, it's cold outside,” with a big smile on his face. Taking you by your hand, he drags you outside into the snow, where both of you feel the chilly breeze hitting your face. Suddenly, you felt a ball of snow hitting your neck and you turn to see Guren throwing snowballs at you. You two have a good time together, chasing each other, frolicking in the snow, and making snow angels.

Later, you two come back to your apartment, take a huge blanket, sit on the couch and huddle by the fireplace. Snuggling up to him, you softly tell him with a smile, “Guren, I want a baby.”

His eyes widen in surprise as he didn't expect in the wildest of dreams for you to blurt it out. You suddenly hear his pacing heartbeat, and the moment you look into his purple eyes, he strokes your cheeks with his cold hand, asking you with a voice that seemed as calm as ever, “Are you sure that you want a baby?” You respond by nodding in agreement. You started to observe Guren even more.

“I'll think about it, okay? It's just, it's just...” You tried to complete his sentence for him, by saying, “A lot to ask for?” when he replied, “No, it's just that I've been wanting this too...” Your eyes widen in shock, “Wait, what? I thought...” He puts a finger on your lips and reply, “You thought I didn't want a baby, right? Truth be told, I wanted us to wait it out until this apocalypse is done with, because I'm scared of losing you the way I lost my family.” Your breathing hitched in your throat, with realization slowly hitting you. He's right. The war isn't over, not yet away. You nervously chuckle, “Alright, alright, chill! I was just messing around!” However, Guren's focus didn't move away from yours as he picks you up, off the blanket, from the couch in a bridal fashion. You flail your arms and legs as you protest, “Guren, babe, no....” That is when he places you on the bed, gently, as he comes on top of you and whispers, “Your wish is my command, baby....”

Finally omg! This took me a while, but I hope you enjoy it Ro! :D:D:D

#guren x reader #guren ichinose #ichinose guren #owari no seraph #seraph of the end #owari no seraph x reader #ask games #ask aisha #shyna's seiyuu birthday celebration #musings of an extrovert #shyna suggestives

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acidwidow · 2 years

Text

BITTERSWEET

a/n - This is my first avengers fic! I’m gonna make it into a mini(?) series, I wrote this in my notes at 3am lool, I hope you guys like it

Warnings - Angst, short haired bucky (yes it’s a warning bc that man is too fine)

Summary - After a bad breakup you’re forced to move in with your brother Steve at the avengers compound, will old relationships rekindle the fire in you that was once lost?

You cannot be happening. You had just woken up way too hungover and not at all prepared for the confrontation waiting for you downstairs. Drinking for 4 days in a row does a number on you and your mom was sick of watching you drown your sorrows and has finally found a way to ‘help you’.

“You can’t just ship me away because you don’t wanna deal with me anymore!”

“Y/N I cannot keep watching you destroy your life, you’re going to stay with your brother, it’ll be good for you. I know how you feel. It’s final.”

The salty taste of your tears on your lips make you somehow feel more nauseous than you already do. The partying, drinking, drugs, all of it is a way to cope with the man that broke your stupid heart in two.

He knew how much you loved him, he finally admitted he was with you purely because your brother was Captain America. Your high school sweetheart was a lie, are you meant to be frolicking through daisies?

“You have no idea how I feel right now, NO GOD DAMN IDEA! I’m not going, I’m an adult, and I’m not leaving.”

She sighs, exasperatedly running her hands across her face. You know this is coming from a place of love and worry on her behalf but right now all you feel is betrayal and anger running through your veins like fire.

A small brown envelope addressed to you is slid across the table, looking down you snatch it, turning away to storm out towards your car.

Head against the steering wheel, you wonder how you got to this point in your life exactly. How does one man manage to pull the wool over your eyes the way Ryan did, usually you can read people like a book.

“Stupid! Stupid idiot!” You scream and bang your fists against the wheel until your hands go numb. A feeling you’re well accustomed to these days.

You rip open the envelope, terrified for what could be awaiting you inside.

Y/N L/N

Flight NY-2287

From Boston Logan International Airport

To Manhattan Regional Airport

One way ticket

A dry chuckle left your lips, the salt hitting your tongue from the tears shed in the screaming match that had just occurred in your dining room. One way ticket?

“I can’t believe she’s getting rid of me.”

—————————————

Packing your bags proves to be slow and torturous, your mom standing in the door way, throwing suggestions towards you as you chuck a handful of underwear into the open luggage.

“You know, this is for your own good, you’ll be able to see Steve and James again. I know you miss them too, you need this.”

“It seems like you know what I need so there’s no point giving my opinion on this anymore, you’ve already made your decision mom.”

Out of the corner of her eye you see her hang her head. Shame maybe? No, she made her bed and she has to lie in it now. Maybe once you’re gone she’ll realise she made a mistake. Being around Steve will be just another reminder of your heart ache.

You close your eyes as the sound of her footsteps dissipate down the stairs.

You know you can’t blame him, or mom, but that doesn’t stop the rage surging through your body every time something reminds you of what’s happened.

The Captain America T-shirt staring at you as it sits on your bedroom floor. You bought it the day Steve’s merch came out officially. You bask in the memory of how proud you are of him for a moment before the memories of the last two months come rushing back to you and leave a fiery pit in the bottom of your stomach.

Trudging down the stairs, suitcase in one hand, your phone in the other and a bag clinging to your left shoulder that feels like a ton of bricks.

Your mom eyes you from the kitchen table. The same place you seem to be screaming at each other every morning. Closing her book she stands up and walks towards you, a small smile on her face before she opens her arms, signalling you to hug her.

You swallow your pride and wrap your arms around her, tears welling in your eyes for the second time this morning.

“I’m gonna miss you, try not to sass your brother too hard and give him a massive hug from me. I love you Y/N/N.” she mumbles into your hair. Pulling back and placing her hand softly onto your cheek, wiping a couple stray tears that managed to escape your eyes .

You nod curtly, adjusting your backpack and walking through the door towards your car. You feel her eyes lingering on you as you chuck your belongings into the trunk. The thoughts of ‘accidentally’ missing your plans are cut off by your phone buzzing in your back pocket.

Dumbass: see you soon dude

Dumbass: You’ll see us when you get off the plane, hope you appreciate the sign. It was a group effort

You roll your eyes at the message, imagining the Avengers with glitter and sharpies, making a cardboard sign to welcome you back into New York.

You: Better be great considering i’m being forced against my will to come

————————————

“Y/N Welcome back!” The sign reads, accompanied by swirls, bright colours and what seems like steve’s shield, alas badly drawn. Steve and Bucky stand with the sign above their heads, grinning from ear to ear when they spot you in the crowd of people clambering to get to their respective families.

Bucky takes a couple steps forward and flings his arms around you, picking you up in a bear hug for what seems to feel like a life time.

“Let me down you oath!!” You squeal, wiggling around in his super human grip until he finally lowers you to the ground.

“Good to see you too kid.”

You groan at the nickname. “Ugh don’t call me that, I’m an adult now Buck.”

He lets out a chuckle as Steve walks towards you and claps you on the back, the famous Steve Rogers smile still on his face as he takes your bags.

“I missed you Y/N/N”

“Oh and by the way, you’ll always be our little sister.”

The word ‘Our’ leaves a bitter taste on your tongue. Your childhood crush on Bucky never left, only simmered once he moved away, faded even more so into the background when you were infatuated with Ryan.

This is going to be a long trip.

#avengers x platonic reader #steve rogers #mcu #stucky #bucky barnes x reader #avengers #captain america #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel #natasha romanoff #iron man #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky smut #bucky barnes fluff

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rillils · 2 years

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hello I see your stucky content in my dash a LOT and I have finally officially learnt how to spell your username bc I read the wolf!Bucky hc (STUNNING by the way) and then saw this on instagram and just…melted

thank you for all your doing for stuckies! xx

Sweetie oh my gosh, I’m actually blushing right now afsafhsgs *flailing intensifies* First things first, thank you so, so much for sending me such a sweet ask, darling, I can’t even express how humbled and grateful I am, reading your words 💖💖💖 Also, that part about my username made me giggle so much xD I guess all of those L’s make it look weird and kinda confusing, I’m sorry 🥺💕

Ohhh oh my gosh, that video is the single most precious thing ever, I’m pretty sure I’m about to melt too!! 😍😍 When I picture wolf!Bucky, I imagine him as gentle and sweet and fluffy as that pupper :3

You know, in that headcanon (and I’d like to thank the wonderful nonnie who shared that amazing concept once more 😘), I was going with a werewolf!Bucky in the more traditional sense, which I absolutely ADORE (pls wish me luck as I try to turn it into an actual fic adfgsdfgh), but also this video gave me THOUGHTS and those thoughts scream Wolf!Bucky + kids and now I can’t help but wonder about a slightly different AU, including but not limited to:

shapeshifter!Bucky who can shift into his wolf form anytime he wants;

actual White Wolf Bucky, because I cannot pass up that chance, it’s just too perfect;

his neighbours quickly warming up to wolf!Bucky once they realize what a big big softie he really is;

the children absolutely LOVING wolf!Bucky and begging to play with him all the time, and Bucky caving because he just can’t say no to those little “🥺” faces;

wolf!Bucky, this massive, majestic, supposedly serious creature, frolicking in the grass like an actual puppy, soaking up the kids’ happy laughter and letting them all take a turn riding on his back - all the while Steve watches from the sidelines, sitting in the shade of the trees with one of the smallest children and two baby goats in his lap, wondering how they got here - and thanking all the gods he knows that they did, because he wouldn’t trade this for all the gold in the world;

(Steve thinking, who knows, maybe there could be children in their future, too. Someday. Their own children, grabbing handfuls of Bucky’s gorgeous fur and laughing, happy and carefree, when Bucky splashes around in the lake with them.)

the kids crafting beautiful flower wreaths for their wolf friend, which Bucky wears proudly - and then unravels later, so very carefully, so that he can press all the flowers between the pages of his books and save those precious memories forever;

wolf!Bucky quickly becoming the village’s designed babysitter; being very protective of the children, watching over them when they’re playing outside and making sure they don’t stray too far; gently, so very gently grabbing them by the back of their shirts when they’re being too stubborn or reckless (god knows he’s got decades of practice with that); herding them back home when it’s time for a nap;

wolf!Bucky essentially acting as a shepherd dog both for the children and for the goats (and groaning every time Steve makes another kid joke);

Bucky being surprised when the children go out of their way to hang out with him, and not the wolf;

Bucky realizing that they look up to him, and see him not just as a playmate but also as a cool uncle, a friend, a part of their family;

Bucky realizing, belatedly, that they’re as fond of him as he is fond of them;

Bucky realizing that they care about him - every time he’s having a bad day, and they come by only to leave snacks and little treats for him; every time they teach him a new word, and laugh with him when he gets the pronunciation horribly wrong; every time they offer to braid his hair for him, ask for a story from him, or watch attentively as he polishes his prosthetic arm;

and Bucky lowkey hiding his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, wet eyelashes and all, when that realization truly sinks in;

“They love you, Buck,” Steve murmurs in his ear, and Bucky knows he’s smiling even if he can’t see Steve’s face just now - he can hear it in his voice, feel it in Steve’s soft breath, in the fingers scratching idly at the base of his scalp. “You didn’t know, sweetheart? How much they love you?”

Bucky burrows closer into Steve’s arms, settling in for their own nap, his flesh hand splayed over Steve’s stomach. There’s a jar on the windowsill, filled with dried flowers and pretty pebbles the children found by the lake and gave to him, the smooth stone glinting softly in the afternoon sun. The smile comes before he can even think to stop it. “I know now.”

#into a ship or 2 #stucky #wakanda stucky #wolf bucky #rillers scribbles #kinda #thank you again and again and again for such a lovely ask darling <3 <3 <3 #bless you and i hope you have a wonderful day <3 #*smooches*

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 295: So How Are You Holding Up (Because I’m a Potato)

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi randomly and graciously decided to answer all of our long-standing questions about Mr. Compress, including “is he secretly hot,” “is he secretly related to that Robin Hood thief guy,” and “is he ever going to use his quirk to chain chomp a hole right through his ass??” with the answer to all three being “yes, of course.” As for our follow-up questions, “sir, is Mr. Compress going to die,” and “holy shit,” his answers were, respectively, “wait and see,” and, “I understand, really I do, but that isn’t actually a question.” Well, he’s got us there.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi finally ends the War arc with the speed and grace of an overworked college student scrambling to BS their entire midterm essay with five minutes left before the deadline. Deku’s Spidey Sense is all “what up, I exist, p.s. you’re in danger kid” like oh shit, no, you think?? Compress is all “I’m not gonna die but I am going to pass out and be captured” and honestly, at this point I’ll take it. Spinner is all “Tomura you can have this one last Souvenir Hand I found that was in the oven for too long” and slaps it on his face because HE’S JUST TRYING TO BE HELPFUL, SHUT UP. Dabi is all, “[currently in a marble].”Tomura is all “actually, I’m AFO.” AFO is all “hahahahaha” and summons all of the remaining Noumus to cart him and Spinner and Dabi off to safety. Deku is all “DAMMIT TOMURA I’M REALLY MAD AT YOU FOR KILLING, AND I QUOTE, ‘AN UNBELIEVABLE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE’, BUT AT THE SAME TIME, GET THIS, I TOTALLY WANT TO SAVE YOU TOO! LMAO ISN’T THAT WILD.” Fandom is all “OH MY GOD, NO WAY, is what we would say if we had literally never met Deku before, I guess.” And then the arc just ends, lol. See you in the new year, kids.

WAKE UP, LINK... I MEAN, DEKU

jesus christ Vestiges, not a one of you guys has got any chill at ALL. LISTEN TO ME. THIS CHILD IS DEAD. HE IS DECEASED. LOOK AT HIM. HE’S LYING THERE ALL DAZED WITH HIS ARMS AND LEGS TURNED INTO GREEN PUDDING AND YOU’RE ALL “GET UP LAZYBONES” LIKE I SWEAR TO GOD. CAN HE JUST REST?? CAN YOU ALL JUST CALL IT A DRAW WITH THE VILLAINS ALREADY SO WE CAN FINALLY END THIS TRAUMATIC ARC AND MOVE ON TO THE NEW “TRIAGE AND ROBOT LIMBS FOR EVERYBODY” ARC INSTEAD

LIE BACK DOWN YOU IDIOT!!

no you didn’t pass out because of a ~heatwave~, you passed out because he set you on fire while you were out here shooting Blackwhip out of your mouth with your SPINDLY ACCORDION LIMBS dangling uselessly from you like WINDCHIMES you RIDICULOUS BOY

“where’s Todoroki-kun” oh shiiiiiiit. right. god I hope someone caught him. BAKUGOU OWES HIM A FAVOR, HOW ‘BOUT IT

OH NEVER MIND HE APPARENTLY CAUGHT HIMSELF??

Todoroki Shouto has really highkey been the MVP of the entire fourth quarter of this arc. he deserves the world, and odds are all Horikoshi’s going to give him are lasting trauma, and a souvenir shirt that says “I survived this stupid arc and all I got was this t-shirt”

anyway now Deku’s being hit by a Lightning Bolt of Realization or some such? idk what’s going on, but I bet you it’s related to Tomura waking up again

OH SHIT??

LOL WHAT. THAT’S IT?? SPIDEY-SENSE?? I mean we all predicted Spidey-Sense being one of his quirks like ages ago, so Well Done, Us, I guess

but also, seriously?? all of that drama and intrigue about the fourth user’s quirk and this is what we end up with? what was All Might being so cagey about then? how did this dude die? I need answers goddammit. new, better answers lol

maybe it’s something to do with the fact that Deku keeps talking about how his head hurts?

I mean, for Deku of all people to be all “ouch that hurts”, it must really fucking hurt, you know? like oh my god Deku are you dying

lmao and SPEAKING OF PEOPLE WHO APPARENTLY DON’T FEEL PAIN

this man is out here FROLICKING, half-naked and half-torsoed, AND STILL FEVERISHLY RATTLING OFF HIS MONOLGOUE. YOU HAVEN’T EVEN ESCAPED YET YOU DINGUS. did watching Dabi pour bleach over his head inspire you to think of interesting new ways you could abuse your own body for the sake of Theatrics?? why are villains Like This

anyway so now Mirio’s punching him, because what else are you even supposed to do in this situation

I read this speech bubble three times in a row very carefully this time around just to make sure I was reading the words right. and then looked for a T/L note below. and there was none. whatever RHA, at least you all are out here enjoying yourselves

wait what?

I guess he hasn’t woken up yet after all?? so then wtf is Deku’s Spidey Sense getting all worked up about. I mean to be fair there’s danger all around them still so having a Spidey Sense in this kind of situation is kind of like bringing a smoke alarm to a BBQ

now what

wait did he put them back in the marble?? or is that panel just meant to show us how they were in the marble earlier?? Horikoshi please make this less confusing, I’m already having trouble staying focused as it is. and on top of everything else Compress is cascading blood like Niagara Falls right now and I’m starting to wonder if you really are going to kill him off

anyway so Mirio is still in mid-punch, and now he’s reaching out to punch Spinner with his other hand. heh. Mirio please be careful Tomura is right there, and I swear to god Horikoshi IF HE LAYS A HAND ON HIS SWIRLY BLOND HEAD SO HELP ME I WILL MAIL YOU A VIAL OF MY TEARS

okay seriously what the hell is happening

when you attach?? everyone?? to your body?? whose body?? who is this??

oh wait okay it’s a flashback to Tomura talking about his Hands

lmao this is so disjointed, I can’t tell what’s a flashback and what isn’t and whose thoughts these are lmao I give up. I’m just going to fire up a bunch of question marks until this starts making some goddamn sense. ???????

??????

????????

-- !!!!!!!!!!!

okay hold up. so did Spinner just slap Tomura’s last remaining Signature Fashion Hand onto his face just now for absolutely no reason?? is that what’s going on?? and fuck me but it actually worked too, lmao. is your buddy unconscious and unresponsive to stimuli?? no problem, just slap ‘em in the face with a burnt and shriveled severed hand. works every time

p.s. I SWEAR TO GOD HORIKOSHI. IF YOU TOUCH MIRIO!!! HE’S A GOOD BOY LEAVE HIM ALONE

??????????

OKAY WELL. I STILL HAVE NO IDEA WTF IS HAPPENING, BUT AT LEAST MIRIO’S NOT DEAD. KACCHAN GOT BLOWN AWAY THOUGH SOB. HOW IRONIC THAT THE GOD OF EXPLOSION MURDERS WOULD BE MURDERED BY AN EXPLOSION WHILE I WAS BUSY SAYING “OH MY GOD”

ohhhhhh, okay. so this is AFO’s narration

and that’s a partial answer to the question of “why did AFO bother raising Tomura up as his heir if he was planning on taking over his body the whole time.” apparently it makes it easier to control him. joy :’)

also this image of a potato wearing a Tomura wig is sending me fjkllkhl

oh my god he summoned all the Noumu to him like Aquaman and his sea creatures. this whole situation just keeps on getting better

-- oh hell no. oh fuck me, fucking shit

SHIT SHIT SHIT. I’M SORRY SPINNER, TOMURA CAN’T COME TO THE PHONE RIGHT NOW

oh my god. I fucking hate everything right now oh my god

I GUESS WE FIGURED OUT WHAT DEKU’S SPIDEY SENSE WAS WARNING HIM ABOUT, THEN ಠ_ಠ

fucking great!! so I guess nobody is getting a happy ending today, then. the heroes got their asses handed to them (sorry Compress, it’s a figure of speech, didn’t mean to be disrespectful); Deku and Kacchan died; Shouto’s evil brother came back from the dead to ruin his life; everyone and their dog lost various limbs; and the villains have now lost Twice (dead), Compress and Machia (presumably going to be captured), and now their fearless leader’s body has been completely taken over by AFO, which is such an unsexy development that it managed to completely undo all of the Mr. Compress Sexiness from last week. goddamn it

DAMN IT HORIKOSHI ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO END IT LIKE THIS

up close Hadou’s face is looking pretty rough. :/ that’s going to scar over isn’t it. at least she’ll look like a badass

meanwhile I appreciate that Horikoshi drew what looks to be a little puff of air next to Kacchan’s mouth, just to reassure us all that he’s not actually dead. that’s fine. you just lie there then. also his wound really is in the exact same place as All Might’s and it’s giving me all kinds of feels you guys but whatever I’m not gonna sit here dwelling on it all day

AND POOR SHOUTO. IS HE STILL CRYING OMG. AND ENDEAVOR, WAY TO DO NOTHING STILL. THE ALL TIME CHAMP OF SITTING AROUND AND STARING, GOOD FOR YOU

ARE YOU FOR REAL, ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

(－‸ლ)

lol

“peace out, loser.” “SHUT YOUR TRAP, HO.” quality encounter right here

anyway so he’s blasting Deku with something and Deku’s just flying back all unconscious-like. so then, what even was the point of all that, huh

oh I see, it was to lead us into one last Deku monologue to close this arc out

oh my god Deku if you say you’re going to save him I will turn around and do a cannonball into a ballpit of feels right now, don’t do this to me

OH SNAP I THINK HE’S GONNA THOUGH

DID HE LOOK LIKE HE NEEDED SAVING?? I MUST CONFESS YOU AND I ARE OF A MIND HERE, YOUNG BROCCOLI. YES IN SPITE OF ALL THE MURDERS. WHAT CAN I SAY IT’S COMPLICATED

by the way I just have to point out here, that after all of those impossibly pretty close-ups of Hawks’s unconscious face, Horikoshi really did my child dirty here lmao

he looks like a squished cockroach. THAT’S MY BABY BOY

and it looks like the cavalry is finally on its way too! took them long enough. so I guess they can take care of any of the remaining Noumu stragglers, but first let Deku finish his speech. listen up Deku I really need you to say something cool and iconic to cap off this thus-far admittedly underwhelming Last Chapter Of The Year, here

AHHHHHHH YES HE REALLY DID IT HE SAID THE THING

well he thought the thing, anyway. close enough. I’ll take it!

so this is really the end of the arc then! or at least I hope, good lord. anyways, all right then so let’s do a quick status check:

it looks like the Noumu are hauling Tomura and Spinner away to safety, but it doesn’t look like they managed to save Machia or Compress. this honestly might be in Compress’s best interests though. the heroes can get him some medical help along with Kacchan and Endeavor and everyone else

Dabi is apparently hidden inside Spinner’s scarf, but do they have any way of releasing him without Compress there to undo the quirk? will he be all right in there. like how is he going to get food and water and air and stuff lol. does it wear off after a bit? can Compress undo it when he wakes up, even if he’s in custody? is there a distance limit on it?

and Skeptic was presumably turned into a marble as well, but Compress didn’t bother mentioning him at all. nobody cares about poor Skeptic lol

and bonus AFO theories status check:

Dad for One - AFO called Deku worthless and hasn’t seemed to take the least bit of interest in him despite getting to see his fancy SIXQUIRKS up close and personal. so if he is his dad he sure as heck is a terrible one, that’s all I can say

All for One for All/Deku is a horcrux - well the Spidey Sense seems to offer an alternative explanation to why Deku could sense AFO’s presence, but on the other hand it doesn’t explain why AFO was able to sense Deku’s as well (seeing his dreams and such). still thinking there’s a connection there, guys, idk

AFO is the final villain - five words for you: “EVERYTHING IS FOR MY SAKE.” is that concrete enough yet lol. pretty sure this arc marked both the beginning and end of Tomura’s brief stint as the Big Bad. Deku’s got it in his mind to save him now somehow, and we all know what happens when Deku starts getting determined to save people. look out AFO

as for the heroes, they’re all varying degrees of Fucked and I think it’s honestly too much to even take stock of at this point. maybe if I get a rush of hyperfixation in the next couple days or so I’ll do a separate post analyzing the impact of this arc and where things currently stand and where they might be headed from here

but in the meantime, ngl, this chapter was kind of a hot mess lmao. but whatever, I don’t even care because at least he managed to get all of it done within the allotted 17 pages, meaning that next week (or rather two weeks from now, sob) we really can get moving onto the aforementioned Triage arc! BRING ON THAT ANGST. I am so fucking hyped goddammit

#bnha 295 #all for one #midoriya izuku #shigaraki tomura #mr. compress #spinner (bnha)#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #idk why but this chapter was so exhausting to get through lol #I've enjoyed this arc so much but I guess at the end the fatigue just hit me all at once #almost 40 chapters we've been doing this #that's one chapter for every year iida has been alive #still it sure was epic though #now bring on that angsty aftermath

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