#meteor i feel like we have a lot in common but a little to the left lol
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15 Questions 15 Mutuals
Was tagged by @meteor--shards, but tumblr tumblred and didn’t notify me at all! I just happened to see the post while scrolling luckily lol
(idk why this keeps happening even when people tag my main blog. should probably contact support about that >_>)
Were you named after anyone?
Yes, my first name came from my dad’s tai chi teacher’s wife. Which sounds like a weird random connection, but they were practically his second set of parents so, yeah.
When was the last time you cried?
Yesterday. This morning? idk man i’m on an emergency trip back home at my parent’s place for mental health reasons i am not at my most resilient rn
Do you have kids?
As in actual kids I birthed myself, hell fucking no, but considering the age gap between me and my brothers I half-consider them my own kids in some ways.
Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Why no, never. Not at all. Not even the tiniest slightest bit. Perish the thought.
[^i’m lying for the bit]
What’s the first thing you notice about people?
Uhh, never really thought about it, but if we’re meeting in person, probably their height?? Just because most people are taller than me so the first thing I have to do is crane my neck lol
If we’re talking about online, I only ever use tumblr, so probably their tags
What’s your eye color?
Brown. Pretty much black though.
Scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings, usually, because for a long time I was too wimpy for any kind of horror. In recent years I’ve really started getting into it but I still tend to go to media for happy endings because real life generates enough horror for me most days MY GOD what is happening with the chickens!?!
Sorry our flock of chicks was being really loud just now because one got separated by a thin concrete wall that was very echo-y lol (they’re fine now)
Any special talents?
Eh, dunno about that. My party trick used to be leaning over backwards really low (think, like, for playing limbo or Matrix bullet-dodging) without falling over or touching the ground, but the pandemic nuked my stamina and all physical ability, so I’ve just been in mild but constant pain for the past year or so.
I guess I’m decently quick at picking up the very basics of new creative mediums (paints or embroidery or whatever), maybe that counts.
Where were you born?
Japan. Oh dear that chick got separated again hang on
nvm it was a second chick that got separated earlier as well and was hanging around the kitchen door, which was why it was so loud. It’s fine and much quieter now.
What are your hobbies?
Writing and drawing mainly, but I’m the kind of person who has five million hobbies because I need to rotate between them to keep myself interested. So auxiliary hobbies include costume making (covers a lot of different hobbies honestly), swimming (in the ocean. and not like, proper forms and all that. just being in the water basically), parkour (can’t at present for physical condition), roller/ice skating (once again, not atm), started woodcarving the other day (kinda falls under costume making because i’m trying to make a wizard staff lol) and whatever else I feel like taking a stab at for one day and then maybe never again (I should try fencing. maybe when my back isn’t in constant pain)
Have any pets?
At my parent’s place, there’s a cat, a dog (both fairly elderly), bunch of half-wild chickens, various fish, and a tortoise (the kind that get big). Don’t keep any pets at my place because I travel back and forth too much and it wouldn’t work logistically.
What sports do you play/have you played?
Like on an official team/club? None, aside from parkour briefly. Otherwise it’s stuff I mentioned in hobbies that I learned either on my own or had a friend casually give me tips or something. My parents have been teaching me tai chi on and off through the years? Does that count it’s a martial art isn’t it I mean
How tall are you?
5′2″ is what I tell people. Technically I’m just a hair too short for that but it sounds defensive to say 5′1.8″ when I don’t actually care that much lol
Favorite subject in school?
Art, enjoyed the marine biology course I got to take in hs. Was good at English but never loved the way any of my teachers taught it. Technically my hs history class was my favorite but that was bc of the teacher and not the subject matter.
Dream job?
I’ve always wanted to be a fantasy writer, but I figure that can be a long term goal. For now, for a job that would sustain me? I would LOVE to be involved in theater costuming or even just grunt work in a production company. Something creative and silly. I’m considering applying to work at Tokyo Disneyland despite grievances with the company overall just because being in a themed environment every day and getting to see “behind the scenes” does sound fun. Even though I’m sure the work culture is probably horrible. idk something to do with costumes or practical effects would be amazing.
I also love bugs and animals but I have a harder time visualizing myself working in related fields there
I don’t have 15 active mutuals, but: @mariegoos, @vonlipvig, or anyone else who wants to play, feel free! No pressure tho
Thanks for the tag! It was fun :)
#tag games#fun#i'm sorry if this post winds up posting five thousand times or as doubles or something#tumblr is having a normal one#meteor i feel like we have a lot in common but a little to the left lol#in a good way#thanks again for the tag
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second, first meeting | chishiya shuntarou
spoiler warning for ending of aib season 2
after the meteor, chishiya notices the all too familiar person. their a pull towards you - like maybe you’ve met somewhere? (gn reader)
words - 1.1k
a/n: WOW AIB 2 FINALLY OUT AND THE ENDING WAS REALLY GOOD I THINK. anyways arisu and usagis ending was so cute and i needed literally the “have we met?” scenario with ALL of them. and i’m a weak so i made this, very shoot, not beta’d, just a small and sweet drabble. enjoy reading!!!
—
Chishiya is alive.
He sure as hell didn't feel like it, but he was. The meteorite took a lot out of him, physically and mentally. Waking up in the beeping hospital room with a sudden new look on life, and he was going to do something about it. No more being a messenger for bad news, slowly tearing down people's hope one referral after another.
Dozens of people just experienced the same pain and trauma as he walked around him, some looking better than others. A girl with an amputated leg, a man in a coma as he passed by his room, and a girl and boy walking hand in hand with injuries littered over them. Humanity– always finding love in terrible suitaions.
Chishiya stood in one of the hospital common rooms, people-watching as he always does. God– it feels like a lifetime had passed since the meteorite. Chishiya was familiar with the whirring and beeping sounds of hospitals, people chatting and crying, and the strong smell of disinfectants and bleach. He was a doctor, all these things filled his life to the brim, it was familiar.
Even you.
You, who stood across the room; tucked into a corner (like chishiya), people-watching, snacking on crackers, and keeping yourself comfortably hidden. Yes, you’d caught his eyes. But something felt off deep inside his stomach, something was off about you. Almost like you were too familiar, chishiya could see a lifetime in your eyes and this is the only time he's ever seen you. Maybe, it wasn't?
Chishiya knew better than to laser focus on one person in the room, because your head perked up. Right into his direction, but chishiya’s gaze didn't falter– he couldn't even if he wanted to. The pull towards you was too intense, it made him dizzy. shock, confusion, remembrance? Flashed across your face, similar to him.
A small, sweet smile grew on your face. Fuck, what medication did they put him on? That meteorite really did a deal on him because suddenly he can’t breathe. For a moment he thought maybe his stitched came undone, half expecting to see blood soaking his scrubs when he looked down. But no– it was just you. Chishiya’s has never seen a smile so familiar, yet foreign.
Your eyes narrowed in his direction, like you were trying to read him. Something many people found difficult in the past, Chishiya didn’t put up a fight or a stone-cold face. Chishiya narrowed his eyes back, like a challenge.
So wrapped up in you that he didn't see the teenage boy wheeling a little too close to his toes in a wheelchair. “Ow!” chishiya yelped.
“Ah! I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” the boy began to spew out a plethora of apologies, frantically bowing his head to the elder.
“It's okay!” chishiya reassure, the sting in his toe had already been subdued– an easy injury compared to the bandaged and stitched-up ones he gained a few days ago. “Seriously, it’s okay.”
The boys' apologies slowed and he wheeled off, practically still bowing. Chishiya chuckled under his breath at the gesture. Looking back up to find you again, weird– what's got into him? Your spot ghosted empty and chishiya’s eyes frantically searched for you, only to find your back now turned to him and trudging down the hallways. Right as his eyes landed on you, your neck turned and you glanced back at chishiya.
A challenge indeed.
Chishiya curiously cocked his head, looking something like a cat. And then one foot in front of another, chishiya was following you down the hallway. He wasn't sure why, maybe he didn’t need a reason. I mean, he almost died, chishiya felt like he didn’t need a solid reason to do anything anymore besides what he wanted. And he wanted to follow the beautiful, mysterious, and weirdly familiar person around in a hospital. Like cat and mouse.
And that's how chishiya ended up in a quieter, more intimate area. Middle of a hallway, near a set of tables and a vending machine. Usually, where loved one would sit weary-eyed and waiting for good news. You came to a halt, chishiya stopped. You turned around slowly, that sweet smile that made chishiya’s stomach feel weird (apart from the wounds.)
“You're following me.”
Something that would so usually sound like a question, was a statement. Because it was meant to be, because you knew he was from the beginning. You intended on it. Chishiya already likes you. And hell– your voice almost gave him whiplash, so silk and sweet. Echoing distantly in his head, like he's heard it a million times before.
“And you wanted me too,” chishiya replied coyly. His voice felt so scratching and his throat burned as he spoke, being without water and unconscious for too long. Shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning back slightly. Even half dead he must keep up his cool-guy image.
You didn’t reply, only a wider grin growing on your face. And chishiya found it hard to bite back one of his own. How so uncharacteristic of him – he felt so warm.
“Maybe.” you finally said.
Chishiya hummed, beginning to close the distance – one foot in front of another – between the two of you.
You watched him intently, chishiya knew it. Normally he’d perceive this as someone sizing him up, but your eyes told a different story as they trailed up his body. Something that'd make his ears hot and red.
“Meteor?” you asked, gesturing to his wounds. Chishiya nodded. “Me too.”
It was awkward for a moment, but not uncomfortable. The silence was deafening as if it wasn't meant for the two of you. Like there were so many words only on the tip of his tongue, words unsaid, words he didn’t even know – but they were begging to be spoken.
You were the first to break the silence, stepping closer. Now only 2 or 3 feet in front of him. “Have I, sorry, this is weird– but, have we met before? Like even passed each other on the streets.”
“Not to my knowledge.”
You hummed, looking around to avoid the intense eye contact that tugged you closer, and closer and–
“Would you like to know me?” chishiya said, his eyes not leaving yours. A weird sense of home lay in your eyes, chishiya was ready to jump fully in.
You tried to cover the eagerness in you, waiting a moment. Dramatically tapping a finger to your chin as you thought. “I think that’d be nice.”
Chishiyas lip quirked up, following yours.
He may not know you the way he feels, but he will.
#alice in borderland#chishiya shuntaro#chishiya alice in borderland#chishiya imagine#i want to smother chishiya#chishiya x male reader#chishiya x reader#aib chishiya#chishiya headcanons#aib#alice in boderland x reader
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pretty new to fandom and never have heard of bluesky, what fandom is it from? or is it just its own thing published to ao3?
ohhhh anon. oh boy anon.
okay so blue sky is a portal fanfic written by wafflestories, originally on livejournal, also on ffnet. here's the ffnet link. no it's not on ao3 yeah wild right. it is set post-portal 2, so if you don't know the story to the game i don't wanna spoil you and am gonna put All That Synopsis under a cut here. no spoilers for the actual fic tho! yayers
Meteors, signals, apologies, and that tricky little thing called humanity - four years after the events of Portal II, Wheatley's been handed a second chance, but it's not going to be plain sailing…
the summary says it all, really - after returning to earth from his spacely rendezvous, wheatley gets another chance at Not being a terrible person and mending his relationship with chell.
yea also it's chelley (chell/wheatley for the unacquainted). i don't actually know what the vibe check is on chelley these days i think chelldos is more common now at least on tumblr. and i am not arguing with that because that big robot is gay and frankly good for her. but i can say when i played the portal games back in like 2014 chelley had a fucking vice grip on the fandom. the soccerball was a tumblr sexyman, for goodness' sake. and of the squillions of chelley fics around at the time (some of them probably quite questionable in hindsight but we don't gotta talk about it right now) blue sky was the crown jewel.
the thing is? blue sky 100% deserves that spot. shit, it's one of my favourite fanworks ever.
arguably because it's not really focusing on being a shipfic. i know half this recommendation is talking about shipping but i'm giving some context here alright to the nouveau portal fans who were Not there in 2014 and i feel the need to justify like No This Fic Is Actually A Really Good Take On It Trust Me. we are not here to kiss the metal ball we are here to grab him by the lapels and watch him struggle to go from an objectively terrible person to a deeply insecure person three steps from relapsing Back into that terrible person to someone who actually has their moral and ethical shit together. i think it does portay glados in a less sympathetic light than some other fics but also bro (gender neutral) i was reading portal fic in 2014 and 2014 alone i saw so much worse than "yeah glados is still on her i'm-in-denial-about-my-humanity-and-taking-it-out-on-everyone-else schtick"
i'm sick of writing paragraphs. reasons why blue sky is really cool, fic spoilers minimal:
a redemption arc where a character's flaws are not skipped over; in fact, they are dragged into the light and shown off at all angles to be appropriately judged by the reader and the characters in story. no woobification here. if anything the opposite - blue sky takes opportunities to remind the reader wheatley is very capable of being a shit person and the fact that he is doing this whole redemption arc thing is important
but still acknowledging the trauma that is apeture science. saying shit's fucked up without excusing everything else that people did because of it
blue sky is definitely a wheatley centric fic (i don't think this is a bad thing because Let's Redeem Wheatley is a concept that requires a lot of narrative attention and heavylifting tbh) but it doesn't overlook chell's feelings about apeture and also about this whole oh wheatley's back situation. she's strong and badass but she's also allowed to have those feelings and be worried and anxious but also angry. and that doesn't make her not a badass. wah i love her
the town of eaden!!! chell has found a home after portal 2 and they are lovely and she loves them and they love her. i was obsessed with some of these characters as a teenager and they are all ocs. but they are so well written and integrated into the story so well that you can't help but love them. it is so easy to see why chell loves them and especially as wheatley gets attached to them too. it just. ough. it all feels so real they're all wonderful
bro (gender neutral) the redemption arc hinges not on romance or whatever but on the love one gives and receives by contributing to their community and finding their place and taking the things they've been told they're shit for their entire existence and spinning it into something that helps others. tell me that is not the best shit ever
i like how it depicts the robotics and technology its fun :]
there are several scenes that are imprinted in my fucking brain. i swear. one the hallway scene. two the tower scene. three the nightlight scene. four the foxglove scene. if you know you know
#anon i am pre emptively really sorry if you are not into portal and this doesnt interest you bc i kind of used it as a platform to go off#asks
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5 works :3 ship opinion bingo: sharkface/felix, sharkface/locus, sharkface/price, sharkface/carolina, and sharkface/kimball
So many shark ships, is this my birthday??? lol
Let's start with my main otp of all time ever, Sharkface/Locus :3333 with the rest under a cut for sake of scrolling ofc
Despite appearances, Sharkface is actually the most well adjusted "just some guy" of the mercs since Siris is gone. And that I think can tug Locus back towards the realm of balance, make him realize hey this fucked up thing I have with Felix? doesn't need to be like this. Like sure they're both still fucked up freaks, but I think since Sharkface is actually capable of being normal about people stuff Locus' badly calibrated interpersonal compass could be bright back into better alignment. It might not be normal but Sharkface would be decently chill about Locus needing to start being a good guy in earnest and having a Person at the vet least is good for Sharkface. He's a social animal and needs to have People around to love and nurture or he suffers.
Which brings us to my next favorite, the ever-toxic "what the fuck is with these guys" ship: Shark/Felix >:) the only way I can see these guys is as aromantic and casually sexual but still somehow weirdly codependent. They 100% bring out the worst in each other, and really I can mostly only see this "working" in an extremely specific or modern AU.
The oddly specific one is a personal au of mine where Sharkface survives Armonia bc one of his assigned squad scrapes him off the pavement and gets him to medical. So that when Felix is falling off the tower like a meteor headed to hell Sharkface is like huh that looks like it's gonna suck and yoinks him sideways instead with his grapplehook. (Do not tell me he isn't any good with it you know that boy spent way too much time with his old squad doing dumb shit and stupid tricks) They both escape death by sheer dumb luck, Locus disappears like a ghost and the UAC runs the remnants off of Chorus into an escape Condor. It's uh. It's like that one post. Fuck. I can't find the screenshot but it's like enemies to begrudgingly working together and maybe me saving your life and you saving mine i feel some sort of minor obligation and i guess you're not that bad after all and we don't work so bad together and at some point it's just easier to stick together kind of thing. And with Sharkface he needs a person or people as stated above and Felix clings because it's weird to not have someone at his side and well they're getting work done and making money and the sex is good so why break a decent grind while it's still working out... ANYWAY. That, and enraged hatefucking while the wars still on. Those are the options but god are they chewy.
There's no real rhyme or reason to the order, truthfully these rotate in my top spot depending on the day lol but Sharklina is so. SO. ough. listen ok so they're enemies at first and Lina completely rocks his shit and thanks to the Skittles assholes he loses everything and they forget about the people they've crushed under a fucking skyscraper. He's hell bent on revenge, she's hell bent on redemption. which is extremely funny in light of his tattoo. they're both competitive and dedicated and passionate and neither one of them likes backing down, and honestly in like a modern au with them meeting at like idk an MMA match or something i think they'd kick each other's asses and then make out. In canon though they've got SO MUCH deliciously chewy baggage to work through and if they hadn't just fucking shot him bc they were running out of time and he declared his undying vengeance i think they might have begrudgingly found they had quite a lot in common over time and through a LOT of hand to hand combat. Ugh. They make me insane. Stubborn little fuckers.
a 'problematic' but evergreen fave. two unsc prisoners freed and pressganged by criminals, one acting in his former capacity as a psychological professional but likely without any licensure any longer, and only with the intention to hone sharkface into a keen blade of revenge to clip some loose ends from his life to make a cleaner getaway, or at least that's what I assume. he proves to be scheming to save his own hide towards the end. BUT WHAT IF he finds an odd attachment to this broken soldier, nearly suicidal in his desires for revenge, to quiet the ghosts in his mind? either as an intellectual curiosity or personal curiosity. i like the option of sharkface trying to dig into him in return with what little he knows of the guy besides the fact that he's playing his cards very close to his vest. that contrarianism can either work against price or right into his hands, but it's about grabbing the right leads and if he misjudges, the shark will thrash free and go right for the neck...
i guess i don't have a whole lot coherent to say but i do love to chew on this weird lopsided power dynamic and toss in a bit of shipping just to see where it goes. sometimes you get a fluff blend where they're both hurting in the core of them and deciding that actually this war is stupid/doomed/worthless and fucking off together to not heal persay but find some mutual comfort is nice. it's versatile because they're both tertiary and quaternary villains in 13 so there's entirely too much grey space to fill in, even though we've known the counselor since season 6 (technically)
now THIS one i had to chew on for a while because the only canon interaction they have is Kimball witnessing his "as long as I'm alive you're all as good as dead!" speech and shooting him in the chest. 🥴
but. in a world where he's captured instead maybe. Kimball won't let him at the freelancers and he's pissed. the freelancers killed the only people that ever gave a fuck about him, so the only thing left to keep him warm is revenge. Kimball knows a thing or two about having someone kill your entire family callously without losing a wink of sleep over it. She's a lot of tough love because she has to be as a leader, as a source of courage and a beacon of hope for her troops to look towards. But that might actually work on him. She might be able to convince him that you have to keep moving forward regardless, and tearing through innocents on your way to extract a personal revenge doesn't make you any better than the people who wronged you in the first place.
He'd resist at first, refuse to listen, tell her to fuck off, because what does he have left to hold if not for that last ember of vengeance? But he was put off balance when Carolina first apologized to him. Kimball's talked to him a few times. He's got a conscience in there even if he doesn't want it and the worst part is she's right. She's right and he hates it and the more he thinks about all the kids he killed on this side for the mercs the sicker he feels, and finally decides he'll fight for them, give up intel on the mercs and take the fight right back to the guys who brought him here in the first place.
I think to be anything romantic it'd take a very very long road of shark redemption first and probably a lot of awkward "we can't possibly, she's the president of the whole planet and I'm some asshole Merc that turned sides to fight for them/i can't possibly impose, i can't ask someone out bc they'll feel obligated bc I'm the president argh power dynamic" and he's probably aiding rebuilding efforts after and maybe Kimball feels compelled to check in with him occasionally and there's a fondness there that grows slowly and maybe he finally cracks a joke and it takes her by surprise and he's never heard her laugh like that before and uh oh that did it, the dam has broken and he'll take her out on lunch dates to make sure she does take a break sometimes, and after spending so long having to worry about looking after everyone else is nice to have someone who looks after her too, and aaaa ok good job thanks you made me ship it /o\ ...jerk (affectionate)
also i was gonna like proofread this but I've been working on this for a couple hours on and off now and I'm tired so while this was VERY FUN THANK YOU i am too tired for proofreading so hopefully it's legible
#rvb sharkface#ask games#inbox games#blorbo tag#sir that's my emotional support shark#sharcus#sharklix#sharklina#sharkprice#fuck it we sharkball#i wrote that tag initially as a joke bc sharkball but honestly!!!! i talked myself into shipping it#so#fuck it we sharkball!!!!!#this is super fucking long but scroll to the end if you just want to know about sharkball
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future bf standards
would happily chop firewood for me. like if i’m just bored and wanna play with fire, or am cold, or want s’mores
southern and outdoorsy
preferably gone to therapy or would be willing to
good relationship with mom
will go camping with me
will take me dancing
notices the little things. can pick up on small signs of when i’m getting to a bad place or when i’m in a good place
actually gets me flowers, or just pick me some
isn’t an alcoholic
tattooed
able and willing to work through problems and not just call it quits
sense of stability and has some idea of a plan or ambition
wants a simple happy life, not hustle obsessed. just wants to build a sanctuary together
wants animals, maybe would be down to have a plot of land with like chickens and stuff
supportive of my art
be able to imagine a future together. i’m tired and would really like the next guy i date to ideal be like the real deal
is able to understand/been through dark shit and be able to have real talks about it but also be able to joke about it
wouldn’t leave me if my cancer comes back or i get sick again. statistically, it’s super common as a woman to be cheated on or left if you get ill. but also i need to be able to trust that i’m not a burden and they feel forced to stay with me out of pity
doesn’t make me feel like a burden
doesn’t mentally, emotionally, or physically abuse me
is good at back and forth communication. will not just shut down and block me out
gets along with my family and wants me to be involved with his
takes me out on proper planned dates, not only just hanging out and watching tv or having dinner
interdependence but not codependent. like we can lean on each other and make each other better but are still independent and individual people who can function without each other
not clingy/possessive, but makes be feel like theirs. makes me know i’m theirs and they’re mine
interested in each others hobbies and wants to be involved
is able to talk about their feelings and emotions openly
let’s me know if there is a problem or something we need to to talk about. doesn’t just bottle it up until it explodes
doesn’t make me feel bad for feeling things strongly or make me feel like i need to tone myself down and make myself smaller
makes me feel confident in my skin and not feel compared to other girls
makes me truly feel loved
will get excited about things with me. like if i’m really excited about an upcoming meteor shower or something lame, they’ll be excited with me, even if it’s not particularly something they care about but they care because i care
will go to concerts and see bands with me
is sentimental and remembers small moments that mean a lot
wants to put in the effort and so cute mushy things. like wants to do picnic dates or paint nights and cheesy things
uses nicknames and terms of endearment. i’ve never had a bf call me love, sweetheart, babe, honey. sweetie, dear, etc and i think it’s so precious
wants to show me off and is proud of me
isn’t a cheater
loyal. in a romantic relationship but also just in life. loyal to friends and people they love and keep their word when they say something
not long distance
can deal with my adhd, so like will go on walks with me and follow my stream of thoughts and bounce back and forth with me
wants to travel and do road trips and adventures
down for spontaneous plans, like pulling off at a flea market or new hiking trail on a whim as we pass it
makes me feel safe and i can tell them what i’m genuinely feeling. i have a hard time opening up and truly letting myself be venerable, because being venerable leaves you open to being hurt
someone i feel secure in the relationship with. that i don’t have to second guess how they feel about me or worry that they’re going to leave me or that i’m not enough for them
comfortable with the day to day mundane things together. like able to doing separate things in the same room and feel at peace being together. like one of us cooking in the kitchen and the other doing something on the computer, and us being happy in the same space
will come to art events with me and clean up nicely
precious forms of intimacy, like kisses on the cheek and forehead, twirling me around, holding my hand or thigh, etc
is able to apologize when needed
works together against the problem, not against each other
doesn’t yell or raise their voice in anger
able to joke and tease each other
active/likes to workout. being big strong man who can throw me around would be nice
#personal#boys boys boys#m#am i thinking about max while making this list? yes#i am so head over heals it’s pathetic and i don’t even understand how he feels and for all i know he’s over it and this is completely#stupid wishful thinking and i’m getting my hopes up all over again#i want to date him and have all of this and a happy life and build something real with him#i can imagine it so easily and i think we could actually make this work
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i really thought about whether i should leave clues or not, but i was terrible at them anyway 😭
of course, i want the people in my life to be healthy, safe & happy <3 i'm so happy your mum is there. whenever i was sick, my mum would be my angel <3 she would always feed me chicken noodle soup, bring me lots of blankets & chocolate <3
if i'm really invested in something i will stay up til 4am, i used to always be awake until like 7am when i was a teen and i would always regret it in the afternoon cause i'd be sleeping until 3pm :o i know exactly what you mean, i feel that way with a girl group i listen to. one member just outshines the rest of them and i think it's really unfair, i mean, i do think that the staff are maybe partly to blame but a lot of fans have noticed it 👀 i'm the same, i don't like drama. the only drama i like is drama in the show but if it's drama outside of it, i'm like nope. not interested.
i'm so so happyyyyy you like it!!! honestly, it meant so much but i really loved getting to know you <3 it was my favourite 🌷 you're so sweet, so so sweet 💗 pls never change, you're a lovely person ❤
oh so i'm either gonna watch the good detective or revenge of others, i'm not sure which one first. they're both kdramas <3 i think i've only seen three c-dramas (meteor garden, falling into your smile & a love so beautiful) i have a list of dramas i've watched and ones to watch and i tick them off as i go along :)
i remember you mentioning that one to me, i'm gonna watch that one after the one i watch this weekend i think....we shall see, i change my mind a lot about what i'm gonna watch
great minds think alike 💖💜
WE CAN SHARE CUSTODY 💘 i would have mentioned how GORGEOUS they were but i wanted you to see their faces first!!! 💎 OH MY GOD YOU ARE ADORABLE I LITERALLY MIGHT CRY STOP :( i have plentyyyyyy more photos of my kitties!!!! SEE BELOW
toffee tag
luna tag
oh please! you don't have to worry about your clues not being good enough. i am so bad at guessing things, even if the clues are as big as the Eiffel tower 🤣💔
the way you describe your mum is so cute and endearing 🥺💗✨ it reminds me of my relationship with my mum as well. matter of fact, we call each other guardian angel because of the way we always take care of each other ❤️ my mum is truly a gem, my treasure 💖 I'm so proud of being her daughter 💕
staying up until 7 am... don't remind me of that 😭🤧 I'd regret it so much but still do it. where's the logic? the favouritism in a group is unfortunately still a thing 💔 I just remember being a 2nd gg stan and during that era, the bias towards one particular member was blatantly obvious but I can't the one who received that treatment because they weren't the ones who wanted that to happen 😭 however, i think if you want to blame someone for that, direct your attention to the company because the idols have little to no power in the way they're promoted. I can still see that happening in this new generation (gg and bg alike) and it makes me wonder if companies did learn anything about what happened in the past 🤔 don't they remember how favouritism has torn groups apart? how it creates a toxic environment in the workplace? how most of the idols they're debuting are so young they have no idea what's normal and not normal? tldr; just stop it with the favouritism! I can understand you want to send your most popular member to make the group known but, as for everything in this world, know how to balance things... why do I keep writing novels for random subjects but I can't seem to do so when I need it the most? 😭🤧
tysm 🥰😘 I hope you don't change as well because you're amazing just the way you are (bruno mars copied me btw)
oooh! I've heard of those before hehe I hope you enjoy watching them 💘 and if you do want to talk about them, I'll pretend I've watched the show to fangirl with you 😏 oh so I see we have another thing in common? I also like to make lists of shows to watch but then I end up with a list of 6374848 shows before I even finished the first one on the list 💔 which is why now I'm only putting shows I REALLY want to watch in my list ☺️ I'm smart I know no I'm not 🚫
AAAAAAAAH IT FEELS SO GOOD TO FINALLY BE ABLE TO OFFICIALLY CALL MYSELF LUNA AND TOFFEE'S MOM/AUNT 😍🥰💘💗💕💖❤️✨ first of all, I'd like to thank heather for allowing me to share custody with her 💞 I'd also like to thank rose for hosting this wonderful event and allowing me to meet one of the most wonderful people ever 💘 and finally I'd like to give myself a pat on the back because I had some strong arguments that convinced heather 😹 (more like I forced you to share custody but we won't talk about it 😜) if you see me reblog all photos on both their tags, no you don't it is just an illusion 👀🧙🎩🪄 (putting a spell on you so you won't notice my strategy)
#lettre#lovely mutuals#heather 🪶#sorry for any spelling mistake 💔 i'm on my phone and autocorrect doesn't like me#i thought i posted it but no lol
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i wonder if the person i dated who had anger issues and many other issues that rlly hurt me, that he has them? like i wonder if he truly realises what he did. he said he did but i feel like it had a lasting effect on me in a way that he will never understand. is one of the things i think about at 4am when i’m scrambling to finish an assignment. kind of a sad state of mind this thought put me in. so much hurt. and then it’s over. i thought i’d feel free er than i do. but i keep carrying around this damage along with heaps of other damage. if i leave it for a while it catches up with me and screams at me till i pick it up again. sometimes i forget about it all. but more often than not i’m consumed by the thoughts of how it would’ve been if these things hadn’t happened. how nice it’d have been to not have been broken down so many times throughout such a relatively short life so far, compared to like most people. by most people i mean most people now, not like most people in the history of the universe who never lived past their childhood, let alone their twenties. i guess i’m lucky in that way? i don’t feel lucky in that way though. i do feel lucky in some other ways. and i feel unlucky in some other ways. such a long winded way of communicating something so dull? common? obvious? are my feelings less meaningful because they’ve been felt by everyone? why do my feelings even need to be meaningful and substantial? like they’re just feelings, just feel them and shut up. and besides i have to do something completely insane and probably sexually deviant, in order to feel a feeling that is even remotely original. what a strange time to live in. to be born now and not before the meteor hit, or before this planet had an atmosphere, or even before it had water, even before protons and neutrons, maybe even never, or later. why me? why do i think? sometimes i wonder if i’m truman from like the show. when people look at me on the tram. what if i’m living in a simulation? i can see why people believe in these conspiracy theories. probably similar to whatever reason leads people to believe in a higher power and religion and what not. i believe in a higher power. but i also feel stupid for it. i think i’m an absolute idiot most of the time. especially like right now. i don’t understand most things.
i have the weirdest of dreams. i wish i could live in them. it’s not like reality is unbearable. it’s just that the characters in my dreams are fun and we do things, like go on adventures. nothing truly remarkable happens in my actual life. in reality, things go wrong, things go right and the way i survive is by not making a big deal out of anything. just get through the day. and keep doing my tasks. but in my dreams, i just, have a lot of fun. like actual fun. not like me convincing myself i’m having fun and trying to romanticise my life. it’s like actually magical and romantic. not romantic like love but romantic like amazing and beautiful.
oh about the pile of garbage in my room, specifically the one on my bed is getting so massive, it’s like thrice my size and i’m starting to get scared that it will 1) smother me in my sleep by falling like an avalanche or 2) will turn into a giant living fermenting sentient garbage creature. in my head both of these situations are extremely likely. i’m not too bothered, just a little scared. but i accept my fate, no matter what happens. i used to think something died in there. but like what? i don’t know. my imagination runs wild sometimes. or maybe it’s all real. i can’t help but feel like it’s all real. sometimes i feel like i’m going crazy, not in a manic way, but like a slow descent into madness that exists only within my mind. i function mostly like a normal person. whatever normal means. who is normal even.
sometimes i think that i’m never really actually having any fun, i just try to fake it. i feel like i tell myself that oh this is a nice scenery i’m supposed to feel emotional and maybe peaceful or happy. i guess i try to feel what i’m supposed to feel. what do i even feel. i definitely feel scared. and i definitely feel worried. i definitely feel sad. and like there is a lump somewhere halfway between my throat and my chest. i feel bothered. i feel the lack of peace. i feel relieved that things aren’t as bad as they could’ve been or used to be. but that’s not like a good relief. i just feel grief for everything that happened before. even though it’s over, it all still makes me sad. i think i need a funeral. for something. i guess that’s a way of trying to get closure. which is not real. sometimes i feel like my head will explode. sometimes i feel like my body will melt like plastic, not ice cream. be hard and sticky and burnt and uneven and chemical-y and odorous. toxic fumes and bubbling fat. i worry that all my skin will turn to crusty scales. halfway there already. i’m waiting to go bald. in a way, i waiting for death. but i’m also waiting for the worst. there’s so much that’s worse than death. like most things. i just wanna get it all o er with, rip every bandaid, break every bone, pull out every tooth and hair, pick at every scab until there is nothing left. i want to find the self destruct button. but i can’t. i have to live through this slow burn of a psychological thriller.
it’s all me me me i think i feel i can i can’t i want i need i i i i me me me me it’s all i think of all i write about all i am just me, and myself only
i used to have violent fantasies of hurting my mother as a child. i never acted on anything obviously. wait no one time i dipped her toothbrush in the toilet and put it back. and her husband’s toothbrush as well. they deserved much worse. but i’m too good to do any actual harm. never told em obviously. probably the worst thing i’ve done in life. on purpose. i had to. i don’t rlly regret it. she used to beat me and hurt me so much and gave very graphic violent threats, such as saying she’ll rip the skin off my back. oh and the time she beat me with a pipe on my legs and left bruises that lasted 3 years. slapped me leaving five finger marks on my face and back. kicked me while i was sobbing on the floor. so strange that my father wasn’t that much better, throwing chairs at me, kicking my food, i guess they were a good match? maybe it didn’t work because opposites attract and likes repel? i think about all this often, but honestly it’s not the physical abuse that hurt, the emotional torture was so much worse. and i remember it all. well obviously not all. but i remember a lot. i wish i didn’t. vivid memories. two crazy losers boinked hehe and an even crazier creature was born (it’s me). i have a sibling but i feel like an only child. i have parents but i feel like an only child, like only myself, a child, and nobody else. my sibling is great though. couldn’t have survived without daisu. or maybe i could have. who cares. i have daisu.
i’ve always dreamed of sharing all my feelings and life stories with someone who’d understand the depth of it all, and take care of me forever and not hurt me or leave me or abuse me. someone who would love me. like actually love me. but such a person doesn’t exist. and i am never ever ever going to try to find love again. i have no business doing romance. it’s like poison for me. it’s like self harming.. it’s like the worst form of self harm. hoping to be loved.
listening to this song tonight. so many people.
days go by, i’ll never know, i’ll never have words to explain what is going on
i’ll be fine though. i always am. but at what cost.
my head hurts, probably from the screen-time. turns out i spend over 16 hours on just my phone daily. oh i just found out it’s twice as much as the average which is already considered a lot. huh. fun.
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(Gary anon) Okay, subs were out kinda quick this time. (Okay, cameos first: As expected the BW rivals, Drayden and Alder were present. Alongside Flint, Volkner, and Paul again with a Reggie. No Cilan or Cameron unfortunately) The battle consensus? Opinions seem to vary on whether this was better than Diantha vs Lance, but both ranked higher than Alain vs Leon. (Iris really showed her development here. Glad Excadrill got a win, though that meant Dragonite continuing its jobbing streak)
.
(Part 2) (Probably its worst to date. That boss music when Garchomp entered. Haxorus learned to deal with Draco Meteor this time, but not a Mega-powered one. It only feels right if Ash's Dragonite avenges Iris, rather than Mega Lucario like some are expecting) Speaking of which, Pokefan may or may not have confirmed 3 v 3 again for the semifinals. So that probably means Garchomp, Kommo-o and Roserade for Cynthia next time.
(Part 3) (I expected it, but it did hurt a little seeing Iris crushed. I actually saw a few complain about her crying, and used Alain as a comparison that he didn't cry when he lost. Let's forget these are two different characters, and one's a young child. Ash not hugging her I can understand a little better, but Anipoke in general is not big on hugs between humans anyway. And I'm sure there's an eastern culture reason for it. At least he went to go see her.)
(Part 4) Based on a leak for next week, I think Mega Lucario for G-max Charizard is looking more likely; *if not used against Cynthia. *I saw some toss around the concept of Dragonite [or Sirfetch'd] using Dynamax; inspired by Lance. (Lastly, it looks like we are in another break on the 29th. Bring the episode count to 13-14 left)
The cameos were nice! Love that Flint and Volkner were watching together... the boyfriends. Surprised we didn't see Cilan though.
I thought it was a good battle! Poor Dragonite got bodied so fast, but other than that Iris held her own really well. It was fun to watch, really happy for her fans being able to say she battled so well against Cynthia. (And managed to impress Leon!)
Yeah, Ash's Dragonite should get to do that.
Ooh, Roserade! Nice.
Yeah :( Always really hurts to see any of these kids cry.
It continues to baffle me how often this fandom seems to forget the majority of these characters are ten years old. Somebody always seems to complain about the child characters acting like children. And yeah, I wouldn't be surprised if there was some cultural reason people hugging isn't a common thing--that's another thing a lot of the fandom seems to forget about, that Pokeani is a Japanese show with mostly Japanese characters.
Oh, interesting. I guess we'll see how all that goes in the coming weeks--I'm really excited for Ash vs Steven!
Oh man, we're really that close to the end. Wow.
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Tecchou's true morality
~mandatory warning: bsd manga spoilers
Tecchou is one of the characters (along with Teruko) who intrigued me the most in the entire DoA arc. Despite having multiple chapters dedicated to him (and the HD), we know very little about his character. I thought it would be fun to try and dissect Tecchou's morality a bit :D
Firstly, his introduction panel.
Tecchou is the strongest Hunting Dog in combat if we don't take into account their abilities.
Maybe Tecchou is more of a threat than we give him credit for.
Next, we have the line 'steel in body and mind' - it's likely that Tecchou is incredibly rooted in his ideals kunikida manifested and in 'goodness' Despite his eccentricities, Tecchou is actually an extremely determined and strong-minded character. The 'meteoric slash' is something I'll come back to later.
At first glance, this is just Jouno and Tecchou quipping at each other- but look at Tecchou's expression. His eyes are closed (almost reverently and in respect of something) like he's talking about something that's inherently true to him. While he and Jouno treat it as a joke in the next panel - it's still clear that Tecchou believes in some kind of 'truth' of this world. I can't begin to guess at what it is - but clearly, it's something that matters a lot to him.
It's clear to anyone, bright as day, that Jouno doesn't particularly like Tecchou. And in this panel, we can genuinely see Tecchou's slight confusion at realising that Jouno hated him. This happens on numerous occasions where Tecchou is seemingly 'oblivious' to the feelings and things happening around him. (It could be that he's just unobservant owo)
Tecchou gets A LOT of tunnel vision.
When Tecchou is incredibly focused on something, he forgets that everything/everyone else around him exists.
Like this, for example:
And this reflects when he's attacking people too.
While Jouno is gloating talking, Tecchou doesn't even bother truly 'looking' at his enemies. He's just entirely focused on killing them. He didn't seem to care that he was attacking a literal child.
Next, look at these panels.
Tecchou looks like a monster.
His hair covers either his entire face or covers an eye. I think it's incredibly reminiscent of 'blinding' yourself. Tecchou is so incredibly driven and has a needle-point's intensity that his 'virtues' and 'goodness' that he fights for blind him from the truth, simply because he doesn't look at the bigger picture - goodness and badness are not something that intersects for him.
But that doesn't mean he doesn't have virtues and morals - he does, more so than anyone.
He believes so much in the intrinsic goodness of the world and people in it, and beyond anything, he simply wants to protect the it and keep it safe for innocent people.
To finally finish this (incredibly long) analysis - I think this truly sums up Tecchou better than anything else.
He believes that it is his job to punish the wrongdoers, to bring criminals to justice and that his sword is a method of doing so. For him, there is no grey morality. If you commit evil, you deserve the appropriate punishment, no matter your reasons. But this mindset is what genuinely blinds him from the messy reality of the world - and the way his own morality turns him into a 'monster' in the pursuit of justice.
Finally, (I swear this is the end), while I couldn't read the IRL Suehiro-sensei's Plum Blossoms in Snow, a common symbolism of plum blossoms is 'preserving the sanctity of life' and in Confucianism, plum blossoms also stood for 'principles and the value of virtues.' Sounds like someone we know :D
And now I'm going to get poetic, simply because I can. The 'meteoric slash' likely refers to the way his blade flashes in the air when he fights with it. Much like how evilness is often associated with darkness, its Tecchou's blade that streaks across it like a meteor slash and brings light to them.
~Thank you for reading!
#bsd#bsd theory#hunting dogs#bsd manga#bsd manga spoilers#bsd tecchou#tecchou suehiro#jouno saigiku#bsd analysis#character analysis#bungou stray dogs#plum blossoms in snow#bungo stray dogs#mara's analysis
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The Dark of the Moon (Zuko x Reader)
Summary: Late night insomnia turns into a conversation about love, and Zuko makes an interesting discovery about his feelings for you.
Word Count: 2,100
Author’s Note: You can thank Avatar being on Netflix and rekindling my childhood obsession for this one. I wrote this mostly as a dialogue / pacing exercise, but it’s also a bit therapeutic since I can actually relate to Zuko more than I realized or could have ever foreseen watching this show as a ten year old. Enjoy a little emotional romantic fantasy on behalf of a preteen crush and all the toxic friends I’ve ever had. ✌
~ Muerta
Zuko usually slept with you. It started one late night during a mutual bout of insomnia, in which you ran into him as you both wandered the halls of the Western Air Temple. You hardly knew him, but he sat with you and talked about everything that night - anything that wasn’t related to the war or either of your pasts that had been torn apart by it. He surprised you with his dry, even-toned sense of humor, as well as with his intelligence in not only combat but literature and philosophy as well; being a healer and a fortune teller by trade, you found a lot to talk about with him.
As the nights awake became more common, you and Zuko spent more of them together; sometimes you’d wait until you happened upon him in the halls, others one of you would designate a place to meet. Eventually, one of you would go directly to the other’s room and you’d sit, sharing whatever light or heavy thoughts happened to plague your minds. You learned a lot about him in those nights, and grew to feel proud of how far he’d come in such a short time - you often helped others, those much older than yourselves, over months to scale the internal struggles he had, and he’d managed to do so on his own. The more you gave to him, the more he gave back, and it soon became commonplace to fall asleep to the sound of his breathing as he lay in his sleeping bag on the other end of your room.
And that’s exactly what woke you up - the strange, still energy of your bedroom that indicated his resting place was empty. You rolled over, unable to spy his silhouette under the moonlit windowsill, and you rose, your feet carrying you to where you were certain he would be.
It was a gorgeous night, with a gentle breeze ruffling the crisp air. You found Zuko in the courtyard, gazing out over the fog veiled landscape under the swell of the full moon. Without a word, you sat beside him, watching the clouds roll by like ships on a silent ocean. His chest churned in turmoil, so intensely you could feel it in your own.
“Apparently, I can’t sleep without you anymore,” you said. “How selfish of you to have problems that keep you up at night.”
Zuko huffed out a soft chuckle, though the weight in his chest didn’t lift. He leaned back onto his palms, craning his neck backward and allowing the wind to tousle his ash-black hair.
“You didn’t need to come out here,” he told you gently. “It’s not your job to help me fix myself.”
“It never has been,” you replied. “I’ve never fixed anyone. All I ever do is listen and recite a few proverbs; everyone comes to their own conclusions in the end.”
“That’s not true,” Zuko retorted. “I’ve seen you heal. You can do things not even Katara can do, just with whatever happens to be growing nearby. It’s incredible.”
You smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest.
“Physical healing and emotional healing are two super different things,” you told him. “Emotional wounds can only really be healed by the people who have them. I mean, unless you want me to crack open your chest and poke around at your heart for a little while.”
Zuko chuckled again, the tenseness of his muscles easing up just slightly. He opened his palm and spawned a softly glowing flame, both of you watching it flicker in the cool night air.
“I wish I’d been born a water bender,” he mused. “Something that would do good for others. All fire does is destroy.”
You were silent for a moment, watching the thoughts swirl, tormented, behind his eyes. You thought of all the times you’d seen him smile, how his happiness made his handsome features all the more radiant and caused your stomach to bubble with joy. The memory shot a spike through your chest.
“... You know, we only ever see one part of the moon,” you commented, breaking the quiet. “Everything behind that - the dark side - we don’t really consider, even though it’s always there and is as much a part of the moon as the side that’s in front of us.”
Zuko smirked at you, distinguishing the flame in his hand.
“Reciting a proverb at me?” he teased.
You grinned.
“This one’s more like a metaphor,” you admitted cheekily. “That tea I make, the one that tastes awful but makes pain completely disappear?”
Zuko nodded.
“I need fire to make it,” you continued. “I have to roast the ingredients over an open flame before boiling them. Without fire, I couldn’t do most of my healing; it would be too painful without the tea to help.”
Zuko said nothing, but you could sense your words sinking into the cracks in his troubled thinking.
“Fire is heat and light,” you added. “It’s just as important to life as water or earth or air. Every element is capable of destruction or creation - there isn’t a single one that’s inherently good or bad. The person that controls them is the only one who determines that.”
There was another long pause, in which you busied yourself noting the different wild plants growing between the stones that paved the courtyard. You listed the different medicines you could make with each, the process calming you.
“I’ve done some pretty shitty things to people I care about in order to embrace my goodness,” Zuko finally spat. The bitterness in his tone stung you. You turned to him, and for a split second you caught a familiar, rageful glimmer in his eye; the sight made your own temper flare.
“Zuko, don’t do that to yourself,” you said. “It wasn’t just your father who hurt you and you know that.”
“I know,” he snapped, cutting off the end of your words. “I still care about her, though. I don’t even know if she really ever cared about me, but I still… I still miss her.”
Your ribs seemed to cave in, crushing your heart and lungs. He’d told you about Mai many times, and all you ever saw was that the darkness in her drew out the darkness in him; it even hung over you, clouding out the comfort you felt with Zuko and replacing it with unease and doubt. You feared there was no place in his heart for you - not while Mai still remained in it, no matter how badly her memory made him bleed.
“It’s hard,” you choked out. “I still miss some of the people who hurt me, too.”
That was all you could manage to say. You pulled your knees to your chest, half-burying your face in the fabric of your night dress as you forced the tears welling in the corners of your eyes not to flow.
This is what you get, you scolded yourself. This is what you get for feeling things for people you know could never feel the same about you.
A sensation of warmth curling around your shoulders made you jolt. Instinctively, you inched away, glancing in Zuko’s direction as he retracted the arm that had draped around you. You expected him to look away, but he didn’t - his pale amber eyes instead locked with yours.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “You hold your head so high… I forget sometimes that you’re trying to heal, too.”
His words caused your tears to spill, though you didn’t cry; your face remained stony, and no sobs shook you. Your tears fell as easily as water from a cliff’s edge, impeded by nothing but the will of gravity.
“... The cards you lent me,” Zuko said after a pause, almost blurting the words. “I’ve been reading them, to help me let go of everything I left behind. I don’t think I’m doing it right.”
A few weeks ago, you’d given him a deck of cards you used for fortune telling. Each card depicted a different object, element, or scene, and were laid out in combinations that gave insight into a person’s spiritual path. You liked them more than other forms of fortune telling, as it encouraged its readers to make their own assumptions and drive their own fates instead of having it simply told to them. You gave your deck to Zuko so he could reflect on something finite, instead of getting consumed by his own thoughts. It was exactly what you used them for, and you knew they would help.
“Why?” you asked softly.
“I drew a card that didn’t make sense,” he told you. “I laid down the Tides, then the Crossed Blades, and then… I pulled the Badger Mole. The other two I understand - one is for movement and change, the other is for strength in allies, but I… can’t figure out what the Badger Mole is supposed to mean.”
“Badger moles are strong, powerful,” you explained, speaking dispassionately from memory, “but they’re gentle. The card represents the duality of both. They mate for life, too, so it also represents love and companionship.”
As you spoke, you felt a meteor crash between you and Zuko. His face fell, dumbfounded, as he looked at you, his eyes darting minutely back and forth as you watched the pieces mend together in his head.
“What do you feel?” you whispered, part of you terrified of his answer.
“... I feel like I’m fighting the tide,” Zuko replied, his tone awestruck. “It’s pushing me to shore, but I keep trying to swim back out to sea.”
The corners of your lips curled upwards slightly, your cheeks still sticky with tears.
“It’s really scary, huh?” you said. “Loving another person.”
“Yeah... especially when you’ve never known what it feels like before,” Zuko added softly.
You reached out, tentatively resting your palm against his cheek. His hand rose to close over yours, the sensation trembling you to your core.
“How many times have you pulled the Badger Mole?” you asked.
“Every time,” Zuko breathed. “I’m so stupid for not realizing. You make me feel wild and calm all at once. I get this crushing feeling in my chest when I see you or even think of you, and I thought it was just fear or sadness. But… you don’t make me want to lash out like I used to, with my father and Azula and Mai… just the thought of you makes me want to be the best person I can be. Even though I know you already accept me for not being that person.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, somewhat defeatedly, your knees falling away from your chest and crossing in front of you. Your body was heavy, but your head felt light.
“I love you, Zuko,” you murmured. “But I’m afraid.”
Zuko wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. His forehead fell to rest against yours, his eyes closing as he steadied his erratic breathing.
“If you’re scared, I’ll protect you,” he said quietly. “That’s what I think lovers are supposed to do.”
The word made every organ in your body jump to your throat. Lovers. Your limbs felt weak, but your heart felt strong with Zuko holding you.
Without thinking, you took his face in your hands and kissed him. It wasn’t hard and passionate like you expected, but firm, gentle, his lips pressing to yours like two palms grasped in an assuring embrace. He lay one of his large, able hands on the back of your neck, his thumb tenderly stroking your skin.
When you finally broke apart, Zuko gazed at you with a soft, forlorn expression. His fingers reached to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I’m sorry I talk about her so much,” he said. “It must kill you.”
You shook your head, a soft smile forming on your lips, still red from where Zuko had kissed them.
“Don’t worry about it,” you told him. “I know some people from my past you’d happily drive a knife into.”
Zuko chuckled, the light, airy smile you saw when he was truly happy spreading to each of his cheeks. The spike that drove itself through your heart when you thought of it earlier was gone, replaced by the sweet warmth of a low flame on a cold night. With him, you were safe.
“Let’s get some sleep,” Zuko suggested, taking your arm to help you stand.
His hand slipped easily into yours, your fingers twining together. He leaned forward and kissed you again, his lips only grazing yours, causing your skin to buzz with the sensation.
“... Do you think we’ll have to talk to Aang about this?” you asked as you walked back to your room.
Zuko raised an eyebrow at you, confused.
“He is your great-grandfather,” you elaborated with jest. “I should probably do the chivalrous thing and ask for his blessing or something.”
Zuko laughed, nudging you with his shoulder so that you stumbled over your feet. You shoved him back, to which he took you by the waist and wrapped you tightly in his arms, kissing your cheek.
“He probably won’t care,” he replied. “But my uncle will love you.”
#muerta's works#zuko#zuko x reader#zuko x you#prince zuko#prince zuko x reader#prince zuko x you#zuko fanfic#prince zuko fanfic#atla fanfic#avatar fanfiction#self insert fanfiction#lmao when you don't know how to end a fic
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Readthrough 2, Day 2: It Came From The Id
Rose Lalonde has slowly evolved to become my favorite Homestuck character over time, and the more I think about her, the more kinship I feel with her. I would say she’s up there with Homestuck characters I relate the most to, along with Aradia, (and I self-identify as a Seer of Time, for you Classpect Nerds.)
I think it’s significant that our first look at Rose prominently features Sigmund Freud with an Octopus for a head. Sigmund Freud is of course the Father of Psychology as we know it, but is largely regarded as a quack these days. For the uninitiated central to the ideas of Freud are that in in the natural condition, Human Beings, as animals, are ruled by the Id - violent, sexual, unrestrained urges which govern the reproductive need, and which unchecked, would render us little better than animals, and that human beings additionally have a psychological construct that he refers to as the Superego, which contains all of our conceptions about societal norms, mores, and ethics, and serves as a conscience of sorts. The Ego then, is the mediator between the Superego and the Id, and is the psychological construct that probably most closely maps to what we could call the “Self” in Homestuck.
I would certainly say that as Rose develops over the course of the comic, it becomes clear that she is one of the most violent and sexual characters (being the one most interested in Karkat’s smutty troll romance novels, having the very obvious off-colour pun in her username). More interestingly, I think, it suggests that Rose sees herself, right from the start, as a person given to Dark Urges, having to be kept in check by constructed ethics and morals, but given to “evil” deeds in a vacuum.
More after the break.
So, I bring this up because the phrase panoramic window brings it to my attention but Rose/The Lalondes in Earth A are obscenely rich by all indications. The house that they live in is modeled after Fallingwater, a luxury house/art piece by the famed architect Frank Lloyd Wright, and while it’s never made a spectacle of, I think that it adds to the list of ways in which Rose and Jane are parallel to one another. Mom doesn’t exactly own Skaianet, that’s Grandpa, but her involvement in it seems to have enriched her if the fact that she can be drunk all day and afford a legendary house are any indication.
Who the fuck has an observatory built into their house?
The post-apocalyptic wasteland of the aftermath of Sburb really reminds me of like, Mad Max with the decision to characterize it as a post-urban wasteland, although I do not presently remember if Mad Max is ever name-dropped directly (and if memory serves, the post-apocalyptic antics of the exiles bear more in common with a couple of other works, like the Postman).
What’s interesting about most post-apocalyptic movies is the anthropogenic nature of most of the crises that are shown. While Disaster movies usually portray the oncoming disaster as being purely a natural disaster, a lot of post-apocalyptic movies portray the disaster that destroyed the world as being anthropogenic - that is to say, caused by, or created by man. Usually, it’s Nuclear War, or Climate Change, or a combination of those factors.
Homestuck’s apocalypse is curiously Both Motherfuckin Things, as is so often the case - Sburb is at once manmade - that is to say, it is an Artifact - and a natural phenomenon, the reproductive organ of the Universe, which all Universes have in common. At once inescapable, and a thing of our making, so it doesn’t exactly map onto any of the conventional apocalypse scenarios. While all of this is entry-level Homestuck stuff, it’s interesting to see the ways in which Homestuck is influenced by popular media, and chooses to riff on it. Sburb doesn’t easily map onto Climate Change or Nuclear War as something for which humans are to blame - but it also doesn’t easily map entirely onto the standard meteor collision story, which are the result of forces beyond our control which we simply have to survive.
(I think Sburb most closely maps onto Human Systems/Social interactions, like Capitalism for example - forces which are bigger than any individual humans, and beyond the control of individuals except for maybe a powerful few, which almost everyone is subject to.)
Going back to Mad Max, Oil is of course at once lifegiving resource - necessary to operate cars in a world dominated by them - and destroyer, as the pollutant most heavily associated with anthropogenic natural disaster.
It’s probably significant that it shows up prominently immediately once John is in the medium.
One thing Sburb definitely maps onto is the Coming of Age Ritual, something which America at least, formally lacks. I am not as educated on the matter as I would like, but in a lot of pre- and non-industrial societies, a formal coming of age ritual often involved/involves separation from the parent for an extended period as the first official steps into manhood for young boys (although I cannot speak to the experience of young women in this respect, because again, I’m poorly educated on the subject, and was socialized as a boy, so I am still learning how to be a girl).
America has... to say the least some hangups about the place of children in society, and especially the place of adolescents, who are often treated as children when it comes time to talk about what kind of freedoms they should enjoy, but treated as adults when it comes time to talk about what responsibilities should be expected from them.
Serious Business piques my curiosity because it’s one of the only times in the entire story when the world outside of Sburb is genuinely made to seem populated. Otherwise, we are only given edifices like cityscapes and suburbs and occasionally, public architecture like the White House as signifiers that anyone else lives in the world of Homestuck.
A part of the contrivance of John’s world is his extreme isolation from other people - this isolation, this alienation, this Absence Itself, as John’s poem puts it, is part of the False World constructed by Lord English.
More extremely early stuff for the Race in Homestuck collection of thoughts, although I don’t have fully formed thoughts on it.
Aside: As much as I love Dave, he really is kind of a loser, which arguably, makes me love him more?
I’ve been wanting to mention this for a bit, but I think it’s clear from Rose’s preoccupation with the occult and eldritch things that the other half of her cynicism is a feeling of smallness, that she is out of control, and does not really understand the world. Together with her fascination with Freud, I think we are painted a picture of a girl who believes she is bad, occupying a universe that she believes is worse - someone who knows what something looks like when it is dangerous to her, whether it is inside her or outside her, and just can’t seem to stop herself from indulging the threat.
I’m now musing about the creatures in Rose’s grimoires, and the source of all the -Thulus, and the -athoths and so on, as long as I’m on this bender about Race and Colonialism and stuff, it bears pointing out that many of the Lovecraftian Deities are more or less explicitly strange gods worshipped by the “primitives” of the world inhabited by H.P. himself. Lovecraft’s works are ultimately about fear of the unknown and of mankind’s smallness in the universe - but that fear, for H.P. was manifest not just in fear of time and space, but also fear of Italians and Rednecks - not even to speak of Native Americans and Black People.
Take these ruminations with a grain of salt, but I think you can read a kind of elitism into this. Rose is, after all, a girl with pretentions to sophistication, but as we’ve already discussed, she struggles with her own, what we might call “Primitive Savagery” if we were feeling particularly Victorian. So maybe there’s something to it.
I’m feeling a pause here, and meet Dave on Thursday.
Ciao
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If my future soulmate doesn’t hold me as loved-one + respected-mentor + admired-historical-figure + religious-leader + literal-jesus = they love me more then all of these combined then I will send them to war for a year or two and hope they turn into Wilfred Owen.
No but fr Wilfred Owen’s love letters are something everyone needs to learn about. Lemme give you some quick context.
Lived during WW1, English, Enlisted young, met Siegfried Sassoon in a War hospital
Became a famous war poet, hero-worshipped Sassoon, and started writing letters to him from the warfront, the ones that we will cover here
Died November 4th 1918, tragically, literal days before the end of the war
The passage I referenced in the beginning goes like this:
‘I held you as Keats + Christ + Elijah + my Colonel + my father-confessor + Amenophis IV in profile. What's that mathematically? In effect it is this: that I love you, dispassionately, so much, so very much, dear Fellow, that the blasting little smile you wear on reading this can't hurt me in the least. ‘
Yes I know. I’m going right in with a solid punch to the heart. I’ve never before or since seen a line such as this, for further explanation, one of the next lines of the letter:
If you consider what the above Names have severally done for me, you will know what you are doing.
One of those being an ancient Egyptian Pharaoh and the rest being fairly self explanatory, should explain the hot mess in the beginning. If that doesn’t sell you on this post I don’t know what will, in any case continue at your heart’s peril. Now lets rewind, to an earlier letter- which is actually from Wilfred Owen to his cousin:
At last I have an event worth a letter. I have beknown myself to Siegfried Sassoon... The sun blazed into his room making his purple dressing suit of a brilliance – almost matching my sonnet! He is very tall and stately, with a fine firm chisl'd (how's that?) head, ordinary short brown hair. The general expression of his face is one of boredom.
Mostly reminds me of a schoolgirl with a crush in this paragraph, doesn’t make it any less tooth-achingly sweet though. Sassoon was highly respected by Owen even before they met, both poets and soldiers led to a lot of common ground. I’m going to choose not to comment on the beginning of this letter, and let it speak for itself:
My dear Sassoon,
When I had opened your envelope in a quiet corner of the Club Staircase, I sat on the stairs and groaned a little, and then went up and loosed off a gourd,
Pretending weird 20th century euphemisms don’t exist, my personal favourite quote- is heart aching with gorgeous imagery, from this same letter:
And you have fixed my Life – however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but I shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze. It is some consolation to know that Jupiter himself sometimes swims out of Ken!
My personal appreciation for astral imagery is evidenced by my last post- this quote is killing me, BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT ‘however short’ BECAUSE THIS IS IN THE MIDDLE OF WORLD WAR 1, HE DIED AT 25 AND ONLY KNEW SASSOON FOR A YEAR. As beautiful as these letters are, they’re also unbearably tragic. Another from the same letter because this is a masterpiece:
Someday, I must tell how we sang, shouted, whistled and danced through the dark lanes through Colinton; and how we laughed till the meteors showered around us, and we felt calm under the winter stars. And some of us saw the pathway of the spirits for the first time. And seeing it so far above us, and feeling the good road so safe beneath us, we praised God with louder whistling; and knew we loved one another as no men love for long.
This is giving me coming-of-age movie and summer vibes so much, its so lighthearted and happy, and honestly the vibes of this speak for itself. Yet, Owen returned to the warfront, despite Sassoon reportedly threatening to ‘stab him in the leg if he tried to return to the Front’ and a tragedy this story always was, here is the last one I found:
It is a strange truth: that your [book of poems] Counter-Attack frightened me much more than the real one: though the boy by my side, shot through the head, lay on top of me, soaking my shoulder, for half an hour.
Catalogue? Photograph? Can you photograph the crimson-hot iron as it cools from the smelting? That is what Jones's blood looked like, and felt like. My senses are charred.
I shall feel again as soon as I dare, but now I must not. I don't take the cigarette out of my mouth when I write Deceased over their letters.
But one day I will write Deceased over many books. . . .
Ever your W. E. O.
All information, excerpts and quotes are copyrighted by Rictor Norton, the website with further details is here: http://rictornorton.co.uk/owen.htm
Disclaimer: I cannot personally attest to the validity of these letters or extracts, all the information I have is from the site- so don’t come at me!
#poets#poetry#wilfred owen#siegfried sassoon#love letters#antique#ancient love poetry#war romance#wartime love#romance#quotes#cute#i am screaming#this is too cute#tragic romance
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I'm so sorry if this is annoying I don't have a tumblr of my own and I'm pretty new here I made a request for a fluff fic with Tech and a meteor shower and I would like to add a request for flustered reader and flustered Tech in this I'm so sorry if this is annoying I already said that sorry again but I really like ur writing and would love if you did that but you don't have to no pressure
Hey, anon! First off, never apologize for requesting a fic. It’s not irritating - I love the creative bursts I get from requests! Second, I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope it’s everything you wanted. Enjoy!
Meteor Shower
“We need to leave in half an hour or we’ll miss the next transport,” Tech reminded you, tapping at the datapad embedded in his vambrace.
“Tech,” you sighed softly. “Would you focus?”
He finally glanced up at you, looking mildly offended. “I am always focused.”
“On something other than your datapad,” you amended. “We’re in one of the most stunning places in the galaxy. Look around a little bit, soak it in.”
Tech stared around, but he was clearly scanning for threats, not enjoying the wonder of Serenno’s landscape. “I don’t see anything.”
You sighed. Were all soldiers so focused on their mission that they couldn’t see anything else? It had been something you had noticed with other members of the Bad Batch, even if you didn’t have to deal with it for right now. Hunter, Crosshair, and Wrecker had gone to take the Havoc Marauder for repairs after another famous landing, leaving you and Tech to complete the simple surveillance mission by yourselves. You would be taking a transport to meet them soon, but for now…
“You don’t see anything?” you asked skeptically. “Tech, that’s the biggest waterfall I’ve ever seen. And the moons are so bright here! I feel like I could count every leaf on every tree in this forest. Even the sound of that nerf herd grazing is peaceful.”
“If you can ignore the smell,” Tech countered.
“You’re focusing on the wrong things, here- Wait, look! A meteor!” you rambled, pointing at the night sky. Set against the backdrop of the moons and stars, a meteor streaked across the sky and you sighed happily.
“I could never get sick of seeing that,” you told Tech, struggling to rise to your feet. You had been sitting comfortably on the hill in the cool night air for too long.
Tech’s hand grabbed your arm. “Wait, sit back down.”
You obliged - mostly because your thigh muscles were not enjoying the half-crouch you had been standing in. As you settled back to your grassy seat, you looked over at Tech. “What’s up?”
Tech’s eyes were fixed on the night sky, shining behind his goggles. “Look.”
You looked, and a soft gasp left you a moment later. “Oooh, meteor shower!”
As the stars themselves seemed to fall from Serenno’s night sky, Tech said quietly, “Did you know that meteors can be as small as a grain of sand?”
You just hummed at that, attention fixed on the sky above you.
“Cultures across the galaxy have their own myths about meteors, formed long before inter-planetary transport became common,” Tech continued. He always sounded as if he was quoting some informational holovid or another, but this explanation was sweeter somehow, his focus clearly on the sky rather than his own words. “Some ancient civilizations believed they were markers of important events. Others thought they were the tears of the gods.”
“The ancients on my world believed that meteor showers were blessings raining from the stars,” you contributed absently. “The kind of blessing depended on who you were with. Alone, they meant luck. In a crowd, they meant good harvest. With your family, they meant prosperity. With another person, they meant that there was a romantic match. You’re supposed to give them one kiss for every blessing that fell.”
Tech didn’t say anything, but the silence was tenser than it had been. Abruptly, your mind caught up with your mouth and your face went hot. You glanced over at Tech in a panic, hoping he hadn’t been listening.
From the wide-eyed stare he was directing your way and the redness of his cheeks, he had definitely been listening.
You forced an awkward laugh. “Weird superstitions, right? Good thing we know better now.”
“Wh-” Tech’s voice faded, and he cleared his throat. “What did your people think happened if you didn’t… if you didn’t?”
“They believed it was bad luck,” you confessed, wishing more than anything that the subject would change. “But how much bad luck could a grain of sand hold?”
“Some meteors are larger than others,” Tech countered. “Some of those could have been up to a meter wide. That’s a lot of bad luck.”
You watched him in silence, not sure what he was trying to say.
Tech cleared his throat again. “We could… you know. So we don’t have to worry about bad luck.”
“We do have an important mission coming up,” you pointed out.
He nodded. “And what if the Marauder has more problems?”
“We really shouldn’t risk making things worse for the others,” you agreed. “It wouldn’t be fair.”
The next thing you knew, Tech’s lips were pressed against yours. The kiss was soft and simple, innocent even as it sent heat tingling through your fingers and toes. Tech was closer to you than he had ever been, a welcome warmth in the rapidly cooling night air. You sat twined together for longer than you could keep track of, a hail of meteors falling unnoticed through the dark sky above you.
When you finally broke apart, it was with a reluctant groan from both of you.
“We have to catch that transport, I suppose,” you commented.
Tech blinked at you. “By my calculations, we have several hundred more meteors to make up for.”
“Tech!” you admonished, pushing gently at his chest while you laughed. “What about getting back to the Marauder?”
“There will be another transport,” Tech told you, pulling you closer to him once more.
You loved meteor showers.
---
A/N - yes, the “ooh, meteor shower” line was done in reference to our boy Hevy in Rookies, definitely one of my top ten Clone Wars episodes.
Check out my masterlist to read other works or make a request of your own! Thanks for reading!
#star wars#star wars the clone wars#star wars the bad batch#star wars fanfiction#star wars fic#tech#bad batch tech#techxyou#tech x reader#meteor shower#fic request#anonymous fic request
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Do you have any opinion on the Wold Newton universe or more generally the attempts to create a coherent universe based on massive crossover of victorian and/or pulp fictions ?
Fair warning to any and all of you who follow my blog and might think to yourselves "Wow, I want a Pulp Hero Cinematic Universe!". You don't. What you want is for these characters to thrive again and maybe kick ass together after reestablishing themselves as cool and popular and interesting characters in the pop culture eye, and I want that too, I've been working on ideas for years to try and bring some of that to reality, it's part of the whole point of this blog in the first place, and I must stress: Nothing, and I repeat, nothing, is going to put these characters six feet under faster than a botched attempt to follow in the MCU's footsteps. You don't want to watch these characters suffocate under the strain of a cinematic universe. I didn't like watching it happen with Marvel to begin with, as much as that clearly worked out for them.
If DC could only just barely catch up to the MCU's shadow and only started to thrive when they took a diametrically opposite approach, if the Monsterverse, despite the fact that it's characters were already in a cinematic universe together, only just barely limps on due to the popularity of it's central players, the pulp heroes don't have a chance in hell if they try and play by those rules. The Shadow and Doc Savage and Green Hornet can survive failed reboots, but not every character's got that kind of safety net, not every author can afford to take the risks necessary to commit to these properties, and some characters take a lot longer to crawl out of graves than others.
So with that said, let's talk about the WNU.
When I first started doing research on pulp heroes in general I spent a very long time going through all of the Wold Newton pages I could find, and I have a lot of them saved in case the websites get taken down one way or another. I still consult them frequently and I still consider them a pretty invaluable resource for anyone who wants to get acquainted with pulp characters, even if it must be prefaced that the WNU is basically fanfiction.
The Wold Newton Universe was a massive shared fanfiction universe before we had a proper name for this kind of thing and I do find it a little disheartening that, despite it predating or influencing works like LOEG and Incognito and Planetary, and how several current authors either got started writing articles for it or even professed their love of it, it's a currently dead project. I guess it ultimately wasn't supposed to even last as long as it did anyway, and much like the characters it's based on, it ultimately doesn't really die so much as it just lives on differently.
The big problem I have with the mainline WNU is, besides not liking Phillip Jose Farmer's writing, that much of it is basically crack fanfiction built on very, very flimsy family connections as an excuse to tie characters together, and already I think the premise that somehow, all of these characters are related, all of them are part of a special family tree connected by meteor-irradiated blood, to be extremely weak. A lot of the writing in many of the WNU pages is just not good and not workable, and it's hard to fault it as such considering this is fanfic, it's written by enthusiastic fans and not professional writers (although some of these people are, the Lofficiers have no excuse). But the great thing about the WNU is that, because it's a shared project with no ownership, everyone gets to play around and rewrite canon at will and bring their own angle to it.
There's WNU pages that are very hardline against the inclusion of superheroes, others don't have that restriction at all. There's WNU fan pages focusing exclusively on monsters and horror. Jess Nevins wrote a ton of pages digging out the really obscure characters only he knows about. There's Cool French Comics which is focused heavily on the European side of things, which is also where I discovered The Grey Claw's existence, and Tales of the Shadowmen is based a lot on these. I know for a fact that there used to be at least a couple of pages focusing on anime although the Wayback Machine doesn't have most of them archived. It's not so much a single shared universe or timeline so much as it's several, outright dozens, of them depending on who's writing the pages, and they were all free to either incorporate theories made by other authors or purposefully rewrite them. It’s a freedom afforded by the fact that these are non-profit fanfics, and the fact that over half of the characters in these webpages are public domain or in copyright purgatory to begin with.
Unlike with DC, who's got a hodgepodge of concepts that logically shouldn't work together but are still held together by the consistent ideal of the superhero and the Justice League and whatnot, and Marvel, who was a continuous crossover soap opera right from the start, the Pulp Heroes don't live in the same worlds, don't live in the same time periods, many of them weren't designed to do so, don't have a sliding timescale or rebooting timeline to keep them perpetually on the same level, they don't exist under unified copyright, don't operate by the same rules, and are less built to sacrifice their individuality and settings for the sake of costumed punch-ups with a bunch of randos. Superheroes are able to exist together by operating under a very strongly defined notion of what a superhero is and does, and if the Pulp Heroes had anything of the sort, I wouldn't have to make a chart in the first place trying to create a coherent explanation as to what defines them.
Before the MCU could sell people on the Avengers, it first had to sell them on all of it's other team players first, it needed to do the groundwork and rework all of it's existing characters to make sure they could reasonably be crammed on screen together. From the start, their universe was dictated by the need to have these characters team up. Be honest: Do you think this is gonna work for the Pulp Heroes? Characters whose greatest selling point, whose most enduring and unique traits, are the ways in which they are not like other heroes? Characters that currently struggle for newfound popularity because of the common notion that they are just superheroes, except old and racist and outdated. Do you think these characters aren't better off instead dispelling these preconceptions to rebel against the superhero dominance and thrive in different areas? The secret of their success in the first place was the ways in which they weren't like the Victorian Heroes that preceded them, and guess what, now they are on the same boat.
The concept is not unworkable, it's not impossible, some good stories have resulted out of mashing the icons big and small together, hell I have several Pulp Hero universe concepts I'm working on. But I must stress the need of approaching this from a different perspective. And that perspective starts with doing the groundwork on what works and what doesn't for them.
The only genuinely successful pulp hero universes to an extent I've seen were those that were built from the ground up based on an idea that these characters were supposed to interact and work together, or at least share a history together. The strongest one I've seen would definitely be The Chimera Brigade, because it's not preoccupied with mashing icons together but instead telling a story informed by the history of these characters, informed by it's central point: Namely, what does a pulp/superhero history look like from a French perspective. It's biggest names are used only sparingly, it's got a ton of original characters to make the world feel more seamless and real, it takes the routes less traveled to make the story stand more on it's own feet and not just based on the characters it's intended to reference. And in doing so, it's also allowed several of it's characters to thrive individually as well as collectively.
In that regard, I think the greatest thing the WNU has is that it provides a skeleton to work with. It provides not just one but several ideas of what you can do with these characters past their respective stories, either in personal canons, crossovers with other properties or even existing in shared universes. The ideas are there either for existing characters or original creations. What you do with those ideas is up to you.
#replies tag#pulp heroes#pulp fiction#crossover#the chimera brigade#wold newton universe#phillip jose farmer
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My only fear- a short horror story
I wanted to talk about something and get a bit "philosophical" about it.
So let's start by saying that I'm not afraid of many things, in fact, pretty much nothing scares me. I watch lots of horror, especially with my girlfriend, however nothing really manage to scare me. I also tend to not flinch either when there is a jumpscare of any sorts. I am entertained, sometimes I laugh during a movie, but I'm not scared.
Common things that scare me do not scare me either. Spiders? I think most of them are cute honestly. Snakes? I absolutely love them. Clowns? I don't like them 'cause they are boring but they do not scare me. The dark? It's peaceful, I like it. The heights? They might make me my head spin but I'm not afraid of the heights. I bet that when you read the word "philosophy" and then "fear" you imediately assumed this would have been about Death, right? A big ass wall of text about the dude with the hoodie that is gonna take your soul out of your body and about how mysterious and fascinating it is for many reasons, right?
Well Death may have something to do with this but it's not entirely about it. In fact, the Reaper is gonna be just a small fraction of this wall of text, and, at the same time, it will always be there, its presence will be taken for granted by you, the reader, most likely and It will always stand there. However, as I said, this is not about It. It(as I will call Death from now on, It with the capital Letter, just like the famous Clown) will just be a side actor in the show, It will not be the Main Actor, however its role will be important. It won't be Harry Potter in the homonymus series, but It will be Neville. It won't be Frodo or Gandalf in Lord Of the Rings, It will be Pippin.
Hoping you got my point, let's go back to what I was trying to tell you, dear Reader. You see, nobody really knows this but I do have one fear, one single fear that makes me shiver from head to toe every single time I even dare to think about it. Actually you are seing it right now by using the entirety of your view, it doesn't really matter what device you are using to read this. If you are using a phone, it should be on the top left, of you are using a Computer it should be on the bottom right. Perhaps you are not seing it because your brain cannot process it as a fear, but I'm sure you are looking in the right direction. You should be looking at the Clock right now, are you not? And that's it. That is my fear. Time itself.
It terrifies me to think that Time is the only thing that really we, as a race, won't most likely be able to control. You may say "well we cannot control nature either" I agree,however we are finding solutions to it. We learned how to predict many of the things that would have killed milions of people. Hell, we can even predict when a meteor will land on Earth and where! We cannot CONTROL Nature but we can FIGHT it, ya know? But Time? Absolutely not. I remember that the very first interaction I ever had with a timetravel plot was Professor Layton and the Unwound Future. I don't know if Italy, where I live, translated that line correctly but in the beginning of the game Englad's prime minister gives a speech saying
<<humanity made some great steps in its history. We managed to cross seas, sky and even the space. However there is one barrier we never managed to walk through. Time's Barrier.>>
Or something similar.
That always made me think. I always thought how little I was compared to this huge and unstoppable clock that basically controlled the whole Universe itself. I clearly remember shivering to this thought, however this was not what scared me. As a child I believe you cannot really be scared of Time. This fear starts to come to life when you grow up, as you face many deadlines and you always run out of time. As Exams'dates start to approach you, as libera responsibility keep coming towards you, slowly and yet so fast.
It feels like you see someone approaching you walking. You are afraid of them so you start to walk too in their same direction, away from them. Their pace didn't accelerate and yet they still get closer to you.
You start running. You run, you run, you run as if your life depended on it. You keep running, looking towards you in a infinite hallway. You look around. You are going really fast and you don't hear anyone running behind you.
But you hear their step. Slow steps and they always sound closer. You turn around. They are walking and yet they are incredibly close, less than 5 meters away from you. You run as fast as your muscles allows you to, untill they burn because of the stress you are imposing over them. You keep running, running and running for as much as you like. You look behind. They are less than a meter away from you now, staring directly into your eyes as they keep walking, their steps echoing in the hallway and in your head as they keep getting closer and closer to you. Untill they catch you. It doesn't matter your phisical shape, you can be Usain Bolt as well but you cannot escape them. That's how I percieve Time.
#biggest fear#fear#phobia#creepy#time#fear of time#short story#short horror story#horror#horror stories#spooky#scary#scary stories
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Eternity || Nishinoya Yuu.
In which the small things stay with you, forever.
Warnings: Fluff with slight angst, post time skip spoilers
Word count: ~2.4k
Note: I'm finally writing a fluff fic, but I can't seem to tear myself away from angst. It's extremely minimal here though, and there's a good ending! Special thanks to @rollinguuuthunda for inspiring me to write this (since you rEFUSE to read my angst fics >:()!! And yes, I’m bullying Noya in the summary since he’s shorter than me.
—
i.
“Nishinoya, you got hurt again?” You nagged, firmly tugging at his arms to reveal the bruises littered on his skin. They were big and angry and purple; just the sight of them was enough to make you wince.
“They don’t hurt at all, they’re battle scars!” Nishinoya, ever so cheerful and optimistic, beamed brightly at you. In the two years of knowing him, you’d never seen him bothered by the countless injuries his position inflicted on him.
“Sit down,” settling on the floor cross legged, you patiently waited for him to heed your words. There was no room for disagreement, Nishinoya knew perfectly well that you took his well being very seriously.
He never really understood why, though. He never knew why you would grimace at the new bruises on his arms, or force him into his jacket after every match, or ask if he’d eaten his lunch every time you bumped into him in the halls. (Also, he never noticed how you always coincidentally had a protein bar with you when he would say no.)
“They really don’t hurt, I’m fine!” Nishinoya said, but still sat down despite the reluctance in his voice. Why did you always have ointment in your bag anyway? Compared to him, you barely ever got hurt.
“They will if the ball keeps hitting them,” You retort, huffing quietly while you rubbed the ointment onto the purple spots on his arm. “Stop resisting.”
For the first time, he decided to take notice of your knitted brows and slight pout. Why did you seem so upset? You weren’t the one getting hurt, he’d already assured you that he was fine, and you didn’t have to care so much about him. The subtle look of concern everyone else gave was already more than enough, why did you have to go the extra mile?
And for the first time, the dots in his head started to connect. Maybe, you were worried for him. Maybe, you hated to see him injured as much as he hated to see you frown. Maybe, you liked him as much as he liked you.
“Thanks,” Nishinoya mumbled, all his usual confidence replaced by demureness.
“You’re welcome,” your voice was as soothing as ever, the immense concentration in your eyes stirring something in his chest.
At that moment, everything disappeared. The ache in his thighs, the leftover adrenaline in his veins, the thumping of his heart; everything was drowned out by the featherlight touch of your fingers on his skin.
At that moment, the weight of his arm limp in your hand and the coolness of the ointment on your fingertips told of the trust he had in you. In the warmth of his skin against yours, you felt his new vow—”I’ll take better care of myself to not worry you.”
And at that moment, all he could feel was your fingers rubbing comforting circles on his arm and your silent plea—”I don’t want you to hurt, ever.”
ii.
After days and weeks and months of the push and pull game you had engaged Nishinoya in, he finally scored a date with you. It was in the middle of summer when you agreed to meet him at the park, where the summer festival was held.
Coincidentally, it was the day of the Star Festival, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was all on purpose. Only Nishinoya would choose such a day, the only day Vega and Altair were allowed to meet, to be the day of your first date. (Well, if it was on purpose, you sure hoped that you’ll still see him the next day. You didn’t want the first date to be the last, after all.)
“Noya, you’re late,” you chastised, watching him jog over to you with a huge smile plastered on his face.
“Sorry,” he laughed, tugging you along to the stands. Immediately, you were swept up by his antics and found yourself having a blast. It was just like him to easily infect you with joy and laughter, just like him to make you forget all your worries.
Spending time with him always felt like a magic carpet ride, bringing you to new places you never knew existed and making you feel emotions you never knew you could feel. It was intoxicating, and soon you found yourself drunk off the dream-like atmosphere.
After hanging your slip of paper with your wish on the wish tree, you turned to Nishinoya. For a second, it felt like a scene from one of your many dreams was playing right before your eyes. His hands firmly pressed together in a fervent prayer for his wish to come true, his brows knitted in the concentration you only ever saw when he was on the court, his lips pursed in unspoken yearning.
Silently, you wondered what he was wishing so desperately for. What more could he ask for, if he already had everything? What could the wish tree bring that he couldn’t attain with his effort?
(He wanted a lot of things, and all of them were related to you.)
His eyes instantly met yours when they finally opened. As if his wish had already been granted, a brilliant smile spread across his face. He fidgeted a little, hands searching himself for an almost-forgotten gift.
“For you,” he beamed, holding out a single forget-me-not. Some of its petals had already fallen from being jostled around throughout the evening, yet it still stood tall and proud, all its yellow and blue on display.
Taking it graciously, you could barely find the words to express the loud drumming of your heart in your chest. Before you could embarrass yourself with a haphazard word of thanks, a gust of wind blew.
The swaying strips of paper on the tree behind Nishinoya painted a meteor shower around his silhouette, adorning his already ethereal form with an otherworldly halo. Along with the wind was the smell of your shampoo, and almost as if he were one of Pavlov’s dogs, his heart instantly started racing and the tension in his shoulders dissipated.
In the wind was you, and in his lungs was the final push for him to fall down the rabbit hole. In the familiar scent of you was your wordless gratitude—”You give me a reason to smile.”
And in the wind was him, and held tight in your hands was the embodiment of his adoration. Under the full moon and colourful lights of the festival, no words were needed. In the sweet scent of the forget-me-not was his shy confession—”You make my heart pound, yet put me at so much ease.”
iii.
“I’m home,” you called out just as you stepped into your apartment and met Nishinoya’s eyes. Instantly, you recognised the nervous glint in his eyes, one you only saw when he broke something after getting carried away with Tanaka. “What did you do now, Yuu?”
“It’s nothing bad!” He was quick to defend himself, even quicker to unload the bags from your tired arms. Ever since you started officially dating Nishinoya, him being in your house on the weekends became a common occurrence.
Following him into your usually pristine kitchen, shock smacked you over the top of your head and sent you stumbling. It was a disaster zone, the counters littered with broken eggs and flour, and a mountain of dirty bowls in the sink. The oven dinged, bringing your attention to a suspicious mound inside.
“Were you baking?” You frowned, examining the crinkled top of the cake.
“Well, it’s our anniversary, and you like cake,” Nishinoya mumbled, pointedly staring at his creation. It wasn’t that bad, but it definitely made you hesitate to have a taste. “It’s your favourite kind, I’m sure you’ll like it!”
In his childlike confidence, you found yourself sighing in defeat. There was no way you could refuse when he was looking at you with so much hope in his eyes.
“Looks like we have two cakes to eat then,” you smiled fondly at him, pulling out a small box from one of the bags you brought home. “I got a slice from the bakery down the street.”
“We must be telepathic!” He exclaimed, excitedly unboxing the store bought slice and setting it next to his home baked one. The stark difference in appearance and his unabashed pride in his cake was hilarious yet endearing.
Deciding not to judge a book by its cover, you coaxed yourself to taste a fallen piece from the fruit of Nishinoya’s labour. Simultaneously, Nishinoya took a bite of the cake you had bought.
In the sweetness of the frosting and the fluffiness of the sponge cake, all Nishinoya could taste was your bashful devotion—”I only want the best for you.”
And in the saltiness of the crumbly cake(he must’ve gotten the salt and sugar mixed up again), all you could taste was his bold resolve—”I’ll do anything for you.”
iv.
“I want to travel the world.” Your fingers that were deftly twirling his hair came to a stop at Nishinoya’s sudden declaration.
“Do you have the money to go?” You asked, mind starting to wander. You’d always known that Nishinoya was a bird meant to fly, always known that Japan was unable to contain his huge dreams, always known that he would jump at any opportunity to explore the unknown. Yet, hearing it outright caught you off guard and got you worrying.
He was still young, still inexperienced, still naive. You saw these as reasons he should stay, he saw them as reasons he should go; for you were careful and he was carefree.
“I have a plan.” He replied, resolution strong in his voice. The confidence he usually emitted was now unable to reassure you, unable to drive away the darkness called unease from your heart.
“How long will you be gone?” With all your being, you wished that he would laugh and tell you it was a joke, like he always did.
“As long as it takes,” shrugging, he shifted to meet your eyes. In the intensity of his gaze, you knew he wasn’t joking. He was dead serious about it, and nothing you said would make him stay.
It wasn’t the first time you heard about his dream of travelling the world and experiencing everything he could, it wasn’t the first time you felt this helpless, and it definitely wasn’t the first time you feared his departure.
Somewhere deep in your heart was fear—a lot of fear. You were afraid of holding him back, afraid of watching him leave and never return, afraid of being away from him. But the day when you had to stop running away from the fear was bound to come; it was inescapable.
“I’m not breaking up with you, of course,” as if he could hear your fears, he continued. “We’ll keep in contact. We may be physically apart, but I’ll never leave. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”
“We are.” You said, mustering all the conviction you could find. Whether it was to convince him or to convince yourself, you weren’t sure.
It took weeks of preparation and arrangements before Nishinoya was able to fly off. You had contemplated if you should send him off, since you were sure to break down in tears once he stepped through the departure gates, but decided to go to the airport anyway. All for seeing him just a little more.
“Wait for me, yeah?” Nishinoya muttered, face buried in your neck as he pulled you in a tight embrace. You hoped the strength in his grip wasn’t due to a hesitance at the last minute.
“I don’t know how I’ll do it without you,” you confessed, not realising the arrows your words pierced through his heart.
In your shaky voice and shallow breaths, he heard your reluctant promise—”No matter how long it takes, I’ll always be right there waiting for you.”
And in his rare moment of silence, you heard his wholehearted oath—”No matter how far I go, I’ll always come back to you.”
v.
Years had passed, both Nishinoya and you had grown more mature, more accustomed to only seeing each other once a year, more familiar with loneliness. But now, Nishinoya’s desire to explore has been satiated, and his journey around the globe has come to an end. He was back.
“Yuu!” The elation in your voice easily drowned out his calling of your name, earning a few glances from the passersby in the airport.
Cupping his cheeks in your hands and resting your forehead against his, you closed your eyes and let out a content sigh. He immediately mirrored you, basking in your presence.
“I’m home,” Nishinoya whispered, pulling away.
“You’re home.” You reciprocated, taking all of him in. He was a little tanner than the previous time you saw him, his eyes a little brighter.
For the first time since you last saw him, everything felt right. With him back, a monotony you never noticed was relieved. With you back, a stability he had forgotten was restored. Being back together brought back memories of the past and gave hope for the future. To be a tad dramatic, you never felt quite as alive when he wasn’t by your side.
Just like the love stories and romance movies, everything around the both of you faded to nothingness. For a split second, it was just the two of you in the entire universe. For that split second, nothing else mattered, since you were with Nishinoya, and he wasn’t going anywhere else.
And in that split second, he decided that it was now or never.
Taking a step away, he fumbled for something in his pocket. As he sunk to one knee, realisation settled in your mind. Oh, oh.
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Nishinoya declared, eyes glazed over and smile full of anticipation.
In the glittering diamond seated atop the silver band he held up, you saw his wish hung upon the wish tree—
And in the glimmering tears streaming down your cheeks as you nodded your head yes, he saw your wish hung upon the wish tree—
“Stay with me, forever.”
—
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