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thesquidkid · 3 years

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A new beginning

Based on yet another prompt by @manescosmic's anon (your anon is giving lots of emotions and inspiration and is helping me procrastinate my wips 😂)

Prompt: “I try not to be a selfish person but when it comes to you, I can’t help it. You’re the only thing I’m selfish about.”

Contains spoilers for 3x05 so beware!

Alex had spent five days with Deep Sky, working on the Lockhart machine, coming up with a good excuse for having a turquoise that could activate it, and feeling more than previously the pressuring gaze of Ramos. His boss had seemed perplexed at the stone, to which Alex had only talked about finding it in the desert outside of Roswell.

So after five days of doing his job, researching the Lockhart machine more than was necessary while thinking about the stone, the apparent connection between the machine and aliens, and Michael (he always thought about Michael), he finally managed to catch a break and drove towards his house. Once he arrived, he made his way to his couch and sat down, taking off his prosthetic leg. He then switched on his phone for the first time since he came back to Deep Sky after the drive in and waited for all the messages to arrive.

Nothing could’ve prepared him for what he read. Kyle had gotten an alien Radio from his father with an alien message. Wyatt Long had suffered memory loss. Liz came back (that, he knew) but left again. Jones (who Alex found out was an identical version of Max but perhaps evil?) told the aliens stories about their parents (explaining Michael’s state at the drive in). Kyle was apparently the murder victim, nearly died, was saved by Max (who wasn't dying anymore?). Someone killed one of Jordan Bernhardt’s friends leading to protests and the regiment intervening (turns out it was Jones). Something happened to Max (who was healed?) but not before something happened to Kyle (again). All the details were confusing and the different messages he got were sometimes contradicting. Reading all these messages in one go, Alex was feeling quite overwhelmed and would need to call someone to help him sort through what he had missed. One message however struck out, leaving him with a sense of pride and sadness, so he went back to read it a few times.

I know you’re not gonna see this for a while, but I’m gonna do better by those I hurt. And that includes you. So, I’m sorry for everything. Said the message by Michael Guerin. Alex had to blink a few times and look at the contact to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He was proud that Michael was making peace with what had happened, and Alex was sure that one of the people Michael meant to talk to was Rosa (who had also sent him a message about Michael at the Crashdown). He was also saddened by the fact that Michael felt he needed to apologise to him for everything. They were both to be held accountable, and he was starting to realise that he too had some apologies to do.

Just got back from work. He wrote back, with a sad and hopeful smile, hopeful that things between them were perhaps on their way to be better. You’re not the only one responsible, and I’m sorry too. He pressed send and laid his phone beside him, not expecting an answer quite so soon.

He was wrong, as his phone buzzed shortly after he rested his head on the back of the couch. He picked it up and smiled as he read the message. Glad you’re back, everything ok? Michael really worried about too many things, but himself, which was a trait he also held. His thumbs hovered above the keyboard as he thought about what to answer. Was everything okay? He probably wasn’t, but he didn’t really know the feeling of being okay. The machine wasn’t okay, there were still a lot of unknowns, of things he would need to discuss with Michael, but not tonight. No, tonight was about them, and for the first time in a while, he decided to put them first, to be a bit selfish in what he wanted.

All of that in mind, he quickly wrote back before he could regret it. Not really, but that’s for another talk. I know its late, but you wanna come over? I think we need to stop dancing and start talking. Reading back what he sent, he feared to come through too harshly, too menacing about what they needed to talk about. So he decided to add an emoji, to make things better (🙂). He groaned and put his head back, covering it with his hands. “Good job Manes,” he said at loud, "that's totally not creepy."

His phone buzzed again with an answer from Michael, emphasizing the fact that they were both so alike: Wow not creepy at all! Making Alex chuckle, glad he didn't push Michael away, again. The dots on the screen indicating Michael was still typing stopped, and for a moment Alex feared he had been too abrupt. Then, came the message, On my way, I'll bring you some food.

Alex was touched that once again, Michael thought about others and not himself, and knew that Alex probably hadn't prioritised eating over dealing with everything. While he waited for Michael to arrive, he went into the bathroom to get changed into clothes that hadn't been worn for five days and settled back on the couch to read all the messages again, trying to keep up with what he had missed.

He heard Michael's truck park outside then a knock on the front door. He made his way to open it, leaning on his crutch, and was met with Michael, smiling at him with a few curls dangling in front of his eyes, that Alex had to fight not to push back. He had his hat in one hand and a box of noodles to heat up in the other. "Hey." said Alex, leaning to the side to let Michael in. "Thanks for the food," he continued, leading Michael inside and towards the kitchen, "I didn't get a chance to eat yet, so-"

Once in the kitchen, Michael turned around, admiring all the kitchenware Alex owned. "Yeah, I kinda figured." he said, making Alex chuckle slightly. Alex took the box from Michael and put it in the microwave. They waited in silence, then once the microwave beeped, they made their way to the living room, where they sat opposite each other, Michael letting Alex eat while he fiddled with the bandana on his hand.

"I, uhm, made a decision?" Michael said, as Alex was putting down the empty box on the table, the chopsticks laying beside it. He raised his eyebrows in question, wanting to let Michael speak but also indicating he was paying attention and intrigued. "I'm gonna be there for the ones I care about, and- and I'll try not be selfish, you know? To not be my father or whatever." He continued, making Alex's heart ache. Their fathers. That was the problem wasn't it? They both feared to be like their fathers, to be monsters, and by doing so, Alex had pushed Michael away, feeling that he was protecting him. And Michael had done similar things, feeling a hunch about where he came from.

"You're not selfish, Michael." Alex said. Seeing that Michael had lowered his head, not believing it, he continued, "You're not. You brought me dinner even though you didn't have to. You went to the Crashdown to clean the mess the racists had done. You even babysat Kyle for a day." He thoroughly believed every word he said, and Michael raised an eyebrow at the mention of Kyle. "I have received many confusing messages explaining the last few days, which I'm gonna need to dive in with explanations, but not tonight." Alex said, making Michael laugh since he had actually lived the five days and even him was confused. Tonight is about us, thought Alex, figuring out how to formulate that in the best way.

He didn't have time to, since Michael beat him to it. “I try not to be a selfish person", he said, "but when it comes to you, I can’t help it. You’re the only thing I’m selfish about.”

Alex was taken aback by those words. He knew that Michael had feelings for him, how couldn't he, but hearing him say it, he admired the growth Michael had made. And he too had made progress, had grown since the last time they were together. If Michael was going to try to make things better, not mess things up, Alex would do too, and maybe together they could figure things out.

"I'm selfish about you too, Michael."

And with that, they promised to one another that they would try, and not give up on them. Because their story had found a new beginning.

#i hope i didnt forget things #about what alex missed #*insert meme with the pizza delivery guy*#i know i need to update my wips #but i was so inspired by this prompt #there should be a groupchat #that way no more miscommunication #but then the show would be over lmao #i need them to talk #especially malex at this point #rnm spoilers #rnm fic #michael guerin #alex manes #rnm 3x05 #malex #thesquidkid writes

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dilly-oh · 3 years

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Trashy Romance Novel

“Naruto, you frigging idiot,” Iruka began hotly, barging into the hospital room, “of all the stupid, brainless things you could have done, this is by far the-”

He stopped.

The person lying in the small bed was definitely not Naruto. It was a grown-ass man with messy gray hair and a faded scar over one eye, the sterile white sheets pulled up over his nose, apparently sound asleep. Iruka stared at him for a long moment, dumbfounded, before it clicked.

Oh shit, he thought. This is the wrong room. I'm in the wrong room. I need to hurry up and leave before-

The stranger's eyes cracked open and he squinted up at Iruka in confusion.

“...Who're you?” he croaked out. Iruka managed a rather articulate gurgle of dismay, frozen in sheer mortification. He considered the distance between him and the IV drip, wondering if he could dose the man back to unconsciousness before he could scream or buzz for a nurse. “Are those for me?” the man asked, sitting up in bed to regard the bouquet of flowers in Iruka's arms. He opened his mouth to disagree, but then the sheet slipped off the man's face, and Iruka suddenly thought giving him the flowers might not be such a bad idea. He definitely deserved a thank you after gifting him with...that. He didn't even protest as the alarmingly handsome stranger reached out and took the bundle of flowers, opening the card on top.

“You're a dumbass. Love, Iruka.” he read aloud, then looked up at Iruka, batting his eyes. “Aww, babe, you shouldn't have.”

“Whoa whoa WHOA!” Iruka finally blurted out, his face burning half from embarrassment at the situation, half from the thinly-veiled flirting. “I'm sorry, sir, there's been a mistake. I'm in the wrong room and-”

“You mean you aren't my doting husband I tragically forgot about due to amnesia and now you have to win back my love by passionately recreating the story of our romantic union?”

“Excuse me, WHAT-”

“Sorry, I've been reading trashy romance novels. They're the only books this hospital has. Can't blame me for trying.” The man shrugged, then reluctantly handed back the bouquet. “Who's the lucky person they're actually for? Must be someone real special if you're calling them a dumbass to their face.”

“My kid brother,” Iruka explained with a sigh. “He's here with a head injury.”

“Ouch.” The man winced in sympathy. “Poor kid.”

“Not really. He head-butted a brick wall.”

“...May I ask why?”

“Because his stupid boyfriend walked into it and he had to, and I quote, 'defend his honor'.” Iruka paused, looking the man up and down. Despite being a bit on the pale side, he looked perfectly fine, pun very much intended. It was almost unfair how well he pulled off the hospital gown (although Iruka would much rather be the one pulling it off, wink wink, nudge nudge). “So...what're you in for?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Was...was it the crappy romance novels? Did they rot your brain?”

“I have an extremely rare, aggressive form of cancer with only two weeks left to live and the only cure is a kiss from my one true love...” The man swooned back onto the pillow and looked expectantly up at Iruka, who rolled his eyes.

“Yeah they definitely did-”

“Alright you got me. Broke my leg.” He pulled the sheet off his lower half, revealing his legs, one of which was wrapped in a cast, propped up on some pillows. Several encouraging words from friends were scrawled on the white surface in marker, one of them a jarring green highlighter. It almost hurt Iruka's eyes to look at it.

“...How did you break it?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

“I heroically threw myself in front of a speeding car in order to save the life of my beloved-”

“Okay how did you really break it?”

“Tripped chasing after my pug at the park,” the man admitted with a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“...Is the dog okay?” Iruka asked after a long pause.

The stranger burst out laughing. It was a nice laugh, warm and contagious enough to elicit a chuckle out of Iruka, who was growing more and more intrigued. He couldn't deny the spark of attraction he felt for the other man, spontaneous as it was, and it seemed to be reciprocated. He didn't even know his name, but something about the man made Iruka want to know more about him. Maybe this was like some trashy romance novel, where the two would-be lovers met under unusual circumstances and fell instantly in-

“Hey, Kakashi,” a man with short brown hair said, suddenly walking into the room, “I brought the next three volumes of your shitty porn series from the hospital library and a couple pairs of clean underwear, so you can stop fucking texting me the specific style and brand you want from home, you're so damn picky-” He stopped dead as he caught sight of Iruka, pausing for a beat, then glanced at the man in the bed, his eyes darting nervously between the two. “Umm...am I...interrupting something?”

A cold pit of ice yawned open in Iruka's stomach.

Oh my GOD. Here he was, borderline flirting with some stranger in a random hospital room, when obviously the man already had a boyfriend and Iruka was just making a complete ass of himself. The flirting had probably been misinterpretation on his part anyway, and if not, the guy was a total dick. Either way, enough was enough. His face aflame with rage and shame, Iruka spun towards the door.

“I need to go.”

“Hey, wait!” Kakashi or whatever his name was called after him.

Iruka was already out the door, ignoring the man's cries. Screw him, and screw Naruto, too. He was the cause of this whole mess. Iruka would just text him later. He was probably making out with Sasuke anyway and wouldn't even notice his brother hadn't popped in to visit. Iruka needed out of this hospital NOW. He turned towards the stairs, immediately got lost, and spent the next five minutes growing increasingly flustered as he stormed through the winding hallways, desperately searching for the exit. Why the fuck was the hospital so damn BIG-

“Hey! Iruka! Hold up!”

Iruka spun around to see Kakashi speeding towards him in a wheelchair, his boyfriend dutifully pushing him down the hallway at a dead run, IV dangling after him on its cord like a faithful dog. The wheelchair stopped with an audible squeal in front of him.

“What- where did- did you steal that?!” Iruka hissed in outrage.

“Of course not, don't be silly,” Kakashi protested, sounding offended. “The guy it belongs to was asleep in his bed. I'm just borrowing it. I'll return it later. Anyway, Iruka-”

“Were you flirting with me in there?” Iruka demanded, cutting him off. “Be honest.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Kakashi said without an ounce of remorse. “So can I have your number or what?” Iruka bristled.

“You're a piece of shit! I can't believe you, hitting on me like this right in front of your boyfriend! You have some nerve-”

“Wait...boyfriend?” Kakashi cocked his head in confusion. “You mean Yams?”

“The fuck do YAMS have to do with anything-”

“Hi, that's me,” the short-haired man said, raising a hand. “Yamato, actually. 'Yams' to my friends. Which is what we are. Just...friends.” Iruka scowled at him suspiciously.

“Friends? Don't fuck with me. You brought him underwear-”

“Really close friends,” Yamato reiterated. “Also, roommates. It's awful. I can't get away from him.” Iruka studied him for a moment, but couldn't spot any hint of deception. The man's almond-shaped eyes were surprisingly honest.

“So you two...aren't dating?” he asked hesitantly. Yamato gave him a horrified look.

“Dear God, NO. Kakashi is the WORST. He's lazy as hell, procrastinates til the last minute, is perpetually late to everything-”

“You are a shit wingman-” Kakashi began.

“He needs to know what he's getting into,” Yamato snapped at him, then turned back to Iruka. “Seriously, though. You should run while you still can. There's hope for you.”

“Don't listen to him,” Kakashi cut in. “I'm a fucking catch. Which is exactly why you should let your flaxen hair down, rip your shirt open to reveal your heaving bosom, and throw yourself into my arms-”

“Will you cut that out?!” Iruka burst out impatiently. “Life is not a trashy romance novel.”

“You sure about that?” Kakashi said, quirking an eyebrow. “Because I met you in a hospital through total coincidence. After really hitting it off, we had a misunderstanding brought on by miscommunication. Then I chased after you in a fucking wheelchair to declare my undying attraction to you. If that isn't a plot to a trashy romance novel, I don't know what the fuck is. At least it's not raining right now.”

“I dunno, it might be drizzling,” Yamato said, glancing at a window.

Iruka paused, considering.

“I guess it...would make a pretty good book,” he admitted quietly. “The only thing is...I'm not sure what happens next.”

“That part's for us to write,” Kakashi said, his tone eager. “Only we can complete the story.”

“Aaaaand I'm going to puke,” Yamato stated.

“Sorry, we crossed the line from 'trashy' into 'sappy'.” Kakashi shook his head. “Anyway. Iruka. Please, I'm begging you. Let me sweep you off your feet. Just...give me a chance.”

“I'll do you one better,” Iruka said after a pause. “I'll give you my number.” Stealing a marker from the nearby nurse's station, he bent and wrote his cell number on Kakashi's cast, then straightened and held out the bouquet. “Here, you can have these. The message works for you too, I guess.”

Kakashi accepted the flowers with a laugh, taking an appreciative sniff.

“And now, I shall ride dramatically off into the sunset,” he said with complete seriousness. “Come, my valiant steed. Awaaaay!”

“I will push you down the stairs,” Yamato grumbled as he spun the wheelchair around and started back down the hallway. Iruka watched them go with a fond smile on his face, giddy with anticipation.

He was eager to read the next few chapters in his life.

Including the steamy bits.

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Twelve Prompt: Hospitals)

#kakairu #KakaIru Month 2021 #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #naruto #hospital au #crappy romance novels #all the cliches

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dailydnp · 3 years

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British YouTuber, presenter, and author Daniel Howell offers a practical yet poignant look into mental health – his own struggles held up as a mirror for anyone else going through the same – in his book You Will Get Through This Night.

Written in conjunction with psychologist Dr Heather Bolton, the book is an amalgamation of Howell’s own experiences and Dr Bolton’s expert perspective combined to create a reading that feels like a personal attack in the best of ways, forcing you confront, embrace and then overcome your perception of your own mental health.

Best described as, “a practical guide to taking control of your mental health for today, tomorrow, and the days after,” You Will Get Through This Night takes readers through Howell’s mental health journey, wrapped in his trademark sense of humour and nuggets of wisdom that urge them forwards in their path to a healthier mindset.

Speaking to 1883, Howell describes what pushed him to write the book, learning to question his normal, how upbringing and culture impacts one’s perception of mental health, the role that a sense of humour plays in getting the conversation around mental health started and more.

Was there a particular moment that solidified your decision to write this book?

I think it was just realizing the power that every single person has to tell their story and break down the wall. Because with mental health, it’s the thing that every single person has a universal experience of. And yet, we all like to go, ‘I’m fine,’ when we’re completely having a meltdown on the inside and it was me opening up, not because I thought it was a nice idea just because I thought I had to open up about what I was going through with my depression, my sexuality. I went through 27 years of terrible mental health, without even realizing that you’re not supposed to be that way. It’s the idea that we all think we are broken, born in a certain way and doomed to feel that way forever, and that’s fundamentally wrong. I thought I’d like to write this book because other people may see themselves in it, notice that they relate to something, and therefore maybe there’s something about themselves that they need to work on. I literally I just wrote the book that I wish I could have read, because for me it was a struggle to even find the resources and the advice I needed.

You’ve mentioned in the book, that you never questioned your symptoms and that you were taken aback when the doctor said you were suffering from depression. But where there moments before that you started questioning this perception of what was normal to you?

I think it became my normal to feel bad all the time, which sounds dramatic but it was me. I thought it was all to do with my choices, age, environment and my job. But mental health is deeper than that, it’s something deeper and it’s something that you can actually have a positive effect on, which is what I wish I knew earlier, and it only happened when I got to a point where I was struggling, so much that I couldn’t even function day-to-day. In my mind, there was either nothing or there’s crazy. I thought you just have to get over your problems or you are totally crazy, which is so ignorant but that’s just not the truth. So, I went to a doctor and he said I think you might have depression and that is a real thing. And there’s lots that you can do about it. It’s about just understanding everything to do with how your thoughts and feelings work, the relationship between your biology and how you interact with the world physically. It was such a slow and painful journey to learn all of that that I thought, I’m just going to put it all in here and the idea is that for someone who picks up this book, they can go right in. I’ll put it up on the shelf and then when I need to read it, I’m going to pick it up and open it again. So, I just wanted to be super practical.

I really liked this quote in the book “breakdown can be breakthroughs”. So, when was the last time you can think of that a breakdown led to a breakthrough for you?

Every other week, like you know, all of us. It’s just human instinct to try and stick through it and ignore the problems especially with work. It’s a great excuse to lie, “ I know I feel bad but I’m really busy.” And it goes like that until things get way too intense. For me, there were moments where I felt I simply cannot keep going in my career or day-to-day life or try to pretend like I’m funny, until I deal with the fact that I’m gay. And though there was this terrible feeling like “have I hit rock bottom?” But the thing with any obstacle is that it stops you from going in the wrong direction and when you are forced to turn around usually it means you’re confronting the truth for the first time. Usually if someone has a breakdown, if you hit that wall in your life, that point where you absolutely can’t keep going until you turn around and something scary is going to be waiting, it means you’re going in the right direction. When you have these moments of confrontation, instead of procrastinating or running away, if you face it then it’s hopefully better days ahead.

Speaking of procrastination, you talk about burnout and the five-minute rule in one section. How do you strike a balance between not procrastinating and getting things done, but also not overworking yourself?

The human concept of work is very strange and it’s just one of those great examples of something that we’ve all brainwashed ourselves to see a certain way, to put value on certain things that are ultimately probably not great and inevitably lead to another dramatic moment of self-destruction and procrastination, which are both associated with so much guilt and shame.But in reality it’s not because I’m lazy that I don’t want to start this thing, it’s probably I’m terrified of starting this thing because I know that it’s important, I don’t want to fail at it. So, think of the five minute rule as ripping the plaster off, because it’s always the fear of starting. That was me, writing this book and feel like I’m not in the mood to do that, but then moment I start then I’d just write for consecutive hours. Again, it’s just snapping out of the mindset that you’re probably on, which goes I’m doing this because it’s important, and I have to do it. You probably don’t have to do it, you’re probably just running from something else. So, whether you are procrastinating, you think you’re lazy, or you’re telling yourself that you have to put up all of your issues to deal with whatever you’re busy with, you need to flip it around and look at it, not just from in healthier way but in more honest way. I’m not going to cripple myself with guilt and shame about procrastination but I’m not going to over work myself.

You’ve also written about how one of the worst things you can say to someone going through depression is to get over it. What’s the hardest of trying to get people to understand that it isn’t something you can get over?

I think you cannot underestimate how profoundly ignorant most of the world still is about mental health and that’s not people’s fault. It’s just that science, education and culture has just not been doing the right thing even if science recently has come a long way. We’ve got hundreds of years of stigma that come from. Breaking down the barriers, by being honest, with someone one-to-one is a great way to do that. And it just telling them “I’m not going to pretend that everything’s fine. I just want to tell you that, I feel that way.” And for a lot of people who say they don’t understand depression, anxiety etc, if just say I feel bad and I want to do something about it, people usually empathize with it. I also think lot of people want not take it seriously when other people say that because they feel like where was their help when they needed it? I think that the human nature is usually to feel almost jealous that someone else is asking for help or sympathy and they want to get better but you have to talk back to that voice and say maybe this is an opportunity for me to finally, be honest about how I might have been feeling the whole time. Because at some point you have to break the cycle.

Though you’ve said how you can’t underestimate how ignorant people can be, there’s a section of the book where you talk about how you uploaded your video, “Basically, I’m gay,” and braced for negativity. But that you were surprised by all the positive responses. So, what’s the most recent instance you can think of where you were pleasantly surprised by humanity?

Something that anyone that has to admit something, they’re going through and has in common, whether that’s something that’s come out as gay or someone just admitting that they’re just really stressed or feeling very anxious, is feeling like they have to constantly explain themselves. This is just an example of how you can be afraid of what people will say but when you’re really just honest about something that you’re going through, people usually relate to it on a day-to-day level. Whenever I talk to someone about mental health or sexuality, who may think its weird at first but as I describe my thoughts and feelings, they may relate to it even if they aren’t going through exact same thing as you. For me, a year after coming out and I still have that conversation on a daily basis. As a teenager, I had that deathly fear, that I couldn’t tell anyone because it would be terrible, but now I realize that actually most people are just scared. They aren’t inherently hateful; they’re just putting up that wall because they think that being vulnerable leaves them for attack. But actually, if we’re all vulnerable we’d be a lot happier.

Speaking of vulnerability, you touch upon your upbringing in the book and how it sort of taught you to keep a stiff upper lip. When did you start learn to be vulnerable and what was the biggest challenge with that?

Being a young British man, going to an all-boys school or the comedians that I looked up to on TV – everyone was so cynical. It was about trying to be as like edgy as possible and like act tough, and not show this vulnerability in case it’s seen as weakness. I think that I carried this perception all the way into my mid-20s, it seeped into every part of my personality. A lot of the stuff that I made, when I was younger, had this cynical edge to it and it was only when I started to get more followers from around the world that I began people started questioning that cynicism. At first, I’d go “this is British humour,” but a few years later, I just started to reflect about the way I was about myself and realized it was a bit more than a joke have, I actually started to let this self-hatred and the lack of empathy towards how I feel sort of eat me up. I think because only because of the people who have followed me over the years, giving me a reflection of who I am through how they’ve perceived me that I’ve been able to break free of my default programming.

About your sense of humour and how you kind of make sense of how you’re feeling through jokes, have you ever felt misunderstood -particularly given the cultural differences of your audiences you just mentioned – like you’re trying to make light of something that a lot of people suffer from?

Yeah, there’s a weird line and there’s lots of conversations these days about what you’re allowed to joke about. What the difference between talking about something, being comfortable with it and almost glamorizing it. But I think if the biggest problem with mental health globally is people don’t even want to admit that they’re wrong. And that they don’t even know that they were wrong. A bunch of people joking about how depressed they feel could be a good thing because they have at least taken the first step. So, I think it’s good that people can joke about things in a way that breaks the ice as long as they all know, in the same way that my book might make them feel very personally attacked that just behind that joke that you put up to protect yourself, there is something that you should work on. Even if it’s painful, that it will make you happier.

You mention celebrating small wins in the book. What win are you celebrating today?

I have just moved house and I have a toilet that doesn’t flush yet. But I managed to stick a coat hanger, inside the toilet and to make it flush. I just got my own toilet to flush, and for me, that’s such a miracle. It was a perfect example of how we take so many things for granted in life, whether it’s something huge to do with your health, the state of the world, your privilege. But I now have a flushing toilet and everything else felt easy. I can handle it because I got some perspective.

You also touch on the importance of inner circles in the book. , When was the last time, you personally reached out to bring someone into your inner circle and do you remember how you did it?

I am so awkward and awful at making friends and it’s something that usually, I’ll have one of those breakdowns where I go, “I have no friends.” The next day, I’ll wake up and DM people, out of every three people I DM two-point-nine will just ignore me and I will be very embarrassed. But then one of them will say “ yes, in two and a half weeks, we will go get a pizza.” And you only have to succeed a couple times ever to make friends that you hopefully will see more than once. I know from experience, it can be embarrassing, painful and not fun to try and reach out to new people but you just start adding one person, every two years until you have a friend group.

While working on this book, I know you consulted with a psychologist for it, aside from your lived experiences. What did you learn about mental health while looking at it from an outside, expert perspective?

I think one of the biggest revelations for me while writing this book is realizing how much of it isn’t a logical thought in our head. So much of mental health is controlled by our body, and the physical things that we experience. It’s about just how we breathe, how much light, and fresh air. And the problem is in our modern world, our brains are looking at everything as a threat. As soon as you realize actually, humans are not as complicated and mysterious as we think, we’re just little animals trying not to get murdered. It was freeing to know because that meant we aren’t born with this magically broken consciousness, that’s just doomed. It definitely made me look at mental health for what it is rather than the mysterious fog of pain that I thought it was for the last 10 years that I had absolutely no control over.

You’ve said that you’re obviously not done with your mental health journey, but where are you on that journey at this moment in time?

I’m doing a lot better than I was simply because I can understand what I feel, and why, and that it’s normal now. And I honestly feel like that’s 90% of it. Most people don’t ever question their lives. If they spend too much time, feeling overwhelming you stressed or if they worry too much and they’re just not enjoying life day-to-day. But just knowing that there’s something you can do about, it gives me enough hope. From writing the book, I know everything I can do to get better.

Finally, what’s one question no one has asked you so far that you wish you were asked?

I think it’s just how do I convince the other people in my life to take mental health seriously? I realized from writing this book and now, talking about it that the biggest problem I have is that most people simply do not think the conversation about mental health, or mental health, applies to them because they’re fine. So many people think mental health is only something for people that have crippling depression or serious anxiety disorder, but it’s just how all of us, think and feel all the time. If you have bad self-esteem, if you worry about everything, if you have a way of looking at the world that’s really negative and you expect the worst, then you might not need to immediately have an intervention with a psychotherapist, but you need to understand your mental health. Even if you read this book and say you are totally fine, then you still need to know this stuff so you can understand why you are fine. There will be a point in life where you need to make yourself feel better and mental health isn’t about waiting until you snap, and then picking up the pieces and going on medication. It should be about knowing how to keep yourself healthy and happy so that you don’t have a breakdown. Everyone has mental health, and that’s the thing that I wish I could just shove into everyone’s faces.

#daniel howell #danisnotonfire #dan #phan #mine #interview

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emiefaunwrites · 3 years

Note

Hi again! I couldn’t stop thinking about Taka being in a Les Misrables play in college and I just gotta know how it went! I wonder if he had bonded with his fellow club members during practice to the point where they crack inside jokes together and laugh along with each other over a blooper they found funny during practice. Maybe once the show is over, they all get emotional over the club members being in their final term of college (since it would be their last show). I remember back when I was in my high school drama club, we would all go out to dinner the weekend after the showtimes to celebrate. Maybe Taka and the rest of the club could do something like that! (Taka would invite Leon of course. And maybe Kaede, Maki and Kirumi if they went to his college lol).

Heyyy!

Oh hell yeah! Les Mis would have been his final Uni performance for sure! As big as Hope's Peak was, I don't think they'd have enough students (what with the canon reserve course being...well...not that important lets say...). And ya gotta have a lot of people for Les Mis!

I'm not sure many of his Hope's Peak friends (emphasis on friends) would have gone to the same Uni as him - apart from Leon obviously. But I said in a previous post that Mondo's around, so he would definitely go.

Anyway! Enough procrastinating! Let's get writing! Slipped in some jealousy too so hope you don't mind? Thank you as always for the ask and I hope you enjoy!

*********************

• Seeing as he enjoyed the theatre club in Hope's Peak, Taka naturally gets involved in something similar in Uni.

• Leon is hoping to join too, seeing as he got involved in one of the final shows back at school, but baseball practice falls on the same days and so he just can't make it.

• That's not to say he doesn't go to see every show - both the opening night and the closing night without fail.

• And boy, does Taka still shine.

• He doesn't always get big roles now, which suits him just fine seeing as the clubs put on shows much more regularly with the amount of students involved.

• But he still manages to bag a few decent roles - Jesus in Jesus Christ Superstar and Dr Frank N Furter in Rocky Horror Picture show being Leon's particular favourites (for totally different reasons...)

• But Taka's crowning moment was also to be his final stage performance.

• Javert in Les Mis.

• He'd been listening to Stars ever since starting on the stage and told himself that Javery would be the last character he ever played.

• And of course, he was instantly cast in the role.

• He put his absolute EVERYTHING into it, making sure to go out with a bang.

• Each of the five performances went incredibly and on his final night, while taking a bow, he couldn't help but cry.

• He's built such great bonds with this group. And although they still have two more shows, he knows its the end for him.

• The club is all super emotional when he tells them backstage and immediately insist on sending him off with a bang.

• Leon and Mondo, who are waiting for him, are invited along - even though they know practically no one there.

• And oh boy, is it weird.

• Its not that they're annoyed at how popular Taka is with this group of people.

• On the contrary - its lovely to see the boy finally enjoying life outside of their company.

• But there's SO MANY in jokes - stuff they'll never find as funny as everyone else.

• No matter how hard Taka tries to explain it to them when he gets two seconds to speak to them.

• Mondo's just glad he has Leon there to talk to and so's pretty chill with the whole thing.

• Leon, though, is suffering with his irrational jealousy again.

• Of course he wants Taka to succeed and have friends and be happy. Of COURSE he wants that.

• But he can't help but worry about the girl Taka had to kiss on stage when he was J.D in Heathers the Musical.

• She's practically fawning over him and she's batting her lashes at him and he KEEPS PICTURING THAT SCENE and Leon just...just...

• He needs to just calm himself down and let Taka enjoy his moment.

• He needs to stop being so damn hypocritical about stage kissing.

• It's acting! Pretend! Make believe!

• It's not like Taka CHEATED on him.

• And hey, Taka is ENTITLED to stage kiss. God knows Leon's kissed plenty of people in the past. It isn't like Leon's ANNOYED and JEALOUS that he isn't Taka's only kiss anymore...

• Ugh. He needs air.

• He excuses himself and Mondo and they head out, Mondo lighting up and Leon DESPERATELY wanting to.

• Mondo knows better than to bother him so they stand in silence.

• Until Taka comes out, and Mondo slips back inside.

• 'You okay?'

• 'Yeah, I'm fine.'

• Lies. Sweet sweet lies. And Taka knows it.

• And eventually Leon slips and says he'd better go back because...

• 'SHE'LL be waiting?'

• 'Who?'

• 'The girl that's been all over you all night.'

• Ah. Okay, now Taka gets it.

• Leon's jealous of his co-star. The one he had to kiss. And ironically, he has no idea that he's jealous of a lesbian.

• He smiles and takes Leon's hands, pulling him in close.

• 'You know one of our favourite in jokes?'

• 'Hmm.'

• 'Whenever we had to practice our...scene...we both took ages getting into that moment. You know how we did it?'

• 'No.'

• 'We both had to pretend the other was our partner. Yui pictured Niko. And I pictured you.'

• Ahhh damn it. Leon KNEW he was overreacting.

• 'Sorry.'

• 'Don't be. But don't ever forget...offstage, I'm all yours.'

• After that, the party is much more enjoyable!

#kiyotaka ishimaru #leon kuwata #ishileon #mondo oowada #ask request #yaysof11037

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musicallisto · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 800 followers Clara! Could I request a vanilla milkshake for the MCU please if it's OK? I'm female, bisexual so any gender is fine, Libra, Hufflepuff. I'm a little shy at first but open up once I get to know you and I'm always up for a laugh and loyal to my friends and family. I'm a writer and I love reading, baking, taking walks in the forest and browsing bookstores and coffee shops. I love fantasy, horror and comedy movies and I love pop, folk and country music. I'm learning how to do tarot readings. I hope this is enough, thank you so much!

here’s your vanilla milkshake, and I’m sorry for my sporadic posting schedule - school, stress, failing classes, you know the drill. nevertheless, I hope you enjoy your little story with christine palmer!

Christine is among the most selfless and dedicated people you’ve ever met - that much is clear from your first meeting.

She sometimes stops by the same coffee shop you’ve been regularly going to for months now, and despite how exhausted and disheveled she looked the first time you laid eyes on her, you couldn’t help being blown away by her radiant smile and the warmth that emanated from her without her even knowing it.

You watched as she ordered the strongest coffee they could possibly make her without breaking any federal laws and your eyes crossed a few times as she was waiting by the counter - making you blush and drop your gaze to your laptop, discarded on a side of the table in favor of your drawings and writings.

You often found yourself absent-mindedly drawing strangers and passerbys that came and left your familiar coffee shop to procrastinate work; and after that encounter, you realized that for a good week everything you drew and wrote seemed to take inspiration from the same muse, as though there wasn’t any room for anything else in your mind.

You would’ve loved to start up a conversation with her, but you were way too shy for that, and so was she - so it would remain an unspoken fantasy that you both harbored without telling the other.

(But you still shared a few knowing glances, each a little longer than the last, and timid smiles each time she stopped by.)

Eventually, in a fit of courage, you decided to walk up to her and order something for the heck of it, just to... stand next to her, supposedly thinking that waiting alongside her in a “““casual and laid-back””” manner would make things less awkward between you two and prompt a beginning of conversation.

Which it... did, weirdly enough. But it was more so thanks to her, who finally seized her courage and advised you against ordering that chocolate croissant.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have that if I were you, especially with how early in the morning it is.”

“Really? I thought French people had this for breakfast.”

“Do you truly want to follow an example set by French people?”

You both laugh together, a sweet little sound that contrasts with how absolutely exhausted she looks.

Over the course of your conversation, you understand the reason why she always stops by on a whim, never to stay longer than five minutes, and is always out of breath and with her hair tousled in all directions; she works as a nurse in the nearby hospital, and coffee is her reward for making it through her night shift.

“But don’t you want to sleep when you get home after working all night?”

“Trust me, with how tired I am, even if I drank the entire kettle I’d still pass out as soon as I hit my bed.”

So over the days you learn her habits, the coffee she takes and the pastry she sometimes allows herself as a dalliance. You even save her a seat for when she can stay for more than a few minutes.

It becomes a ritual for the two of you, almost everyday; but you don’t really conceive these meetings as dates, rather... comforting meetings.

Your first real date, officially recognized as such by both parties, is at a bookstore that you’ve been dying to check out.

Christine doesn’t have much time to read with how overworked she is, but she accepts your invitation nonetheless - time spent with you anywhere is time well-spent.

You meander through the alleys, checking out the books and discussing them with Christine... enthusiastically talking about your favorites and not realizing how expressive you get.

“I’m so sorry, I’m totally boring you to death right now...”

“No, no, don’t apologize! I love listening to you talk about what you love.”

She offers you the sweetest smile ever, so well-meaning and encouraging, the smile of someone who genuinely cares about you and is starting to fall for you.

You even dare to take her hand in yours, and shyly squeeze her fingers... but the position is so comfortable that you don’t have any excuse to let go of her hand. So the rest of the date is spent holding hands, as you should have from the beginning.

It’s not long after that you officially get together, and it’s the sweetest and most loving relationship you’ve ever been in, but also one full of mischief and little adventures - because even with her work and strong sense of ethics, Christine is always up for some good fun.

It’s a bit difficult dating someone who can’t spend their nights with you, but you understand that she’s dedicating her time to saving other’s lives, and don’t hold it against her at all; in fact, you’re quite admirative of her drive and selflessness.

You sometimes drop by the hospital unannounced to surprise her while she’s at work, alone and busy on the night shift. You aren’t big on PDA, but you’ll always steal some discreet kisses when no one is looking.

... Or you thought that no one was looking, but of course, Dr. Strange has the ability to somehow always find himself in the most inconvenient places at the most inconvenient moments, but he pretends he hasn’t seen anything when he calls out to Christine to get back to work.

Still, she gives you a conniving wink as she disappears in the white hallways.

You now know that she has found a motivation much more powerful than coffee for pushing through her night shift; the simplicity of getting back home and falling asleep in your arms.

800 follower sleepover CLOSED!

#thereagles #800sleepover #mcu #ship request #christine palmer #christine palmer x reader #christine palmer headcanons #mcu headcanons #marvel headcanons #marvel

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crazy4dragons · 3 years

Text

All-Nighter

Hiccup and Astrid spend the night together for the first time. Like Heaven AU. They’re 13 here and have been friends for just a few months! Friendship fluff, plus some Hiccup being a total Mama’s boy.

“Are you sure it’s okay with your mom if you sleep over?” Valka asked as she laid a plate full of barbecue chicken, corn, and mashed potatoes in front of Astrid. “I don’t want her worrying about you.”

“It’s okay,” replied Astrid, hugging her towel around her. With school out for the summer, she and Hiccup had planned an all-nighter. “I just have to be home by noon tomorrow for beach volleyball.”

“Are you cold, dear?” Valka frowned as she noticed Astrid shiver. “Hiccup has plenty of sweatshirts if you’d like one. You two probably wear about the same size.”

“I’ll be okay,” said Astrid. “Where is Hiccup, by the way?”

“He wanted to shower before he ate. He said he’s done swimming for tonight.”

Astrid bit into a chicken wing. “These are good. Did you make them, Mrs. Haddock?”

“Call me Valka. And no, Stoick actually made them. I’ve never been much of a cook.”

“Yeah, me neither. My mom tries to teach me, but I’m no good,” laughed Astrid.

Valka sat across from Astrid. “Let me give you some advice, dear. Marry a man who’s good in the kitchen and you’ll be set for life.”

Astrid laughed. “I’ll try.”

Smiling, Valka dug into her own plate of food. “By the way, I want to thank you for reaching out to Hiccup when we first moved here. He’s a very sweet boy, but he’s always had such a hard time making friends. You don’t know how happy he was when he came home and told me you invited him to the Zipplebacks concert.”

“Well, I’m lucky to have him as a friend,” Astrid said.

Just then, Stoick appeared on the patio. “I got the iced tea if any of yer want any,” he announced, holding up a tall pitcher of homemade iced tea.

“I’ll have some, love,” Valka responded.

“Could I have some, too?” asked Astrid.

“Of course, lass.” Stoick poured both Valka and Astrid a glass before sitting down beside his wife.

“I was just telling Astrid how much we appreciate her reaching out to Hiccup. She’s been a great friend to him since we moved here.”

“Speaking of Hiccup.” Stoick gestured to the back door, where Hiccup emerged.

“Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad. Hey, Astrid.” Hiccup took his place at the table. “Can I have some corn? And a couple pieces of chicken?”

“No broccoli?” questioned Valka.

Hiccup wrinkled his nose. “No, thank you.”

“Iced tea?” Stoick offered.

“Yes, please.”

The rest of the meal passed quickly as the little group talked and laughed together. After asking to be excused, Hiccup and Astrid hurried inside and up to Hiccup’s bedroom.

“Can I use your shower?” asked Astrid, digging through her backpack to find her hairbrush and clean clothes.

“Yeah, go for it. I’ll start looking through Netflix for a good movie to watch.” Hiccup settled onto his bed and grabbed the TV remote.

Astrid vanished into the bathroom, reappearing twenty minutes later in a pair of cozy pajamas. “Mind if I sit with you?”

“Of course not.” Hiccup patted the empty space beside him. “Come on up.” After she climbed onto his mattress, he said, “But if we decide to give up on the all-nighter tonight, which we probably should if you have a volleyball game tomorrow, you can sleep in the guest room if you want. Or you can stay here. The choice is all yours.”

“I’ll probably stay.” She pulled the covers to her chin and settled against a fluffy pillow. “I’ve always thought it would be fun share a room with someone.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“Did you find anything to watch?” asked Astrid, nodding towards the TV.

“Yeah. I thought we could watch Thor.”

“It figures you’d pick something that relates to Norse mythology.”

“You can pick the next one,” Hiccup promised. “We have plenty of time. It’s only nine o’ clock.”

“Deal.”

“Also, my dad bought microwave popcorn. If you want some, I can go make it before I start the movie.”

“Popcorn sounds good.” Astrid slipped out from beneath the covers. “I’ll come with you.”

“Okay.” Hiccup led Astrid to the kitchen, where they popped two bags of popcorn and poured it into a big bowl. “We have M&Ms, too. I’ll bring them with us because we might want some after the popcorn.”

“I could go for M&Ms.” Astrid grabbed the popcorn while Hiccup found the candy. “By the way, I hung my swimsuit in your bathroom to dry,” she said as they walked back upstairs. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course. Just don’t forget to take it home with you tomorrow.”

“I’ll try not to, but if I do, I have a couple more in my closet.” She settled atop the mattress. “You know, I wanted to get a bikini to add to my collection this summer, but my mom said I’m too young even though literally every other girl our age is wearing them.”

“I can’t relate,” laughed Hiccup, climbing back onto his bed after Astrid.

“It’s just frustrating because I’m embarrassed enough to be the only girl on my volleyball team who doesn’t wear a bra yet. If I had a bikini, I could at least pretend I have boobs.” She paused. “Sorry, this is probably weird for you.”

“No,” shrugged Hiccup. “I get what you’re saying. I was the shortest boy in our grade this year. I’ve always been. My mom says I’ll catch up to everyone else eventually, but I’m tired of it. I mean, even you’re taller than me.”

“Only by an inch or two,” said Astrid. “But both your parents are tall, so you’re probably gonna end up tall, too. You might just be a late bloomer like I clearly am.”

“I hope so. I’ve always been small and skinny, though. My dad calls me a talking fishbone. I wish I was bigger like him. He’s 6’9” and almost 400 pounds. And here I am at five feet tall and barely 110 pounds.”

“I’m 5’2”, so you’ll catch up to me soon.” Astrid grabbed a handful of popcorn. “But anyway, are you gonna start the movie or what?”

“I forgot about the movie for a second,” said Hiccup, pressing the play button on the remote. “There we go. Do you want the light off or on?”

“Off would be good.”

Hiccup reached over to turn out his bedside lamp before reaching into the popcorn bowl and focusing on the TV.

…

Astrid’s eyes opened as a bright ray of sun shone through the curtains, signaling that it was morning. For a moment, she was surprised to find herself pressed against a warm body. However, as she fully awakened, she came to realize that the warm body was Hiccup, and remembered that they’d had a sleepover.

“Hey, Astrid.” Hiccup twisted around. “I tried to give you space last night, but I suppose you like to cuddle.” He let out a soft laugh.

Blushing, Astrid noticed that her arm was draped across Hiccup’s middle and quickly withdrew it. Judging by their current position, she guessed that she’d been lying with her head against his shoulder and her torso pressed into his back while she slept. “I’m sorry.” She slid back to her side of the bed.

“Don’t be sorry. It was kind of nice.” Hiccup paused. “Don’t go spreading this around, but I’m kind of a big Mama’s boy and I used to cuddle with my mom every night before bed. I only stopped a few years ago, so it was good to…” He trailed off. “With you,” he quickly added.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a Mama’s boy,” said a new voice.

Hiccup and Astrid looked up to see Valka in the doorway.

“Oh, hey, Mom,” greeted Hiccup.

“Good morning, loves. It’s just past ten-thirty, so I thought I’d check in to see if you were awake. How did the two of you sleep?” She pressed a kiss against Hiccup’s forehead.

“Fine,” replied Hiccup, hugging Valka.

“Great,” said Astrid with a yawn.

“Still sleepy, dear?”

Astrid nodded and buried herself in the covers.

“Well, there’s breakfast downstairs if either of you want any. And Astrid, sweetheart, don’t forget your volleyball game.”

“Can Hiccup come?” Astrid asked.

“Can I?” echoed Hiccup.

“I’m going to have to say no,” answered Valka. “You have a lot of chores you still need to finish. Your room needs to be vacuumed, the rafts in the pool needs to be put away, your bathroom needs to be cleaned, and you have to work on getting through your summer reading list.”

“Can’t I do all that tomorrow?”

“No, love. You’ve already procrastinated.”

Hiccup groaned.

“Maybe you can go to Astrid’s next game, but right now I need you to stay on top of your chores. Alright?”

“Fine,” he sighed.

“Thank you, dear. I’ll see you in the kitchen when you’re ready to eat.” Giving Hiccup one more kiss, Valka left the room.

Hiccup relaxed against the pillows for a few minutes before sliding off the bed. “Okay, Astrid, I’m gonna go grab breakfast. Are you coming?”

No response.

“Astrid?”

Still no response.

Hiccup peeked beneath the covers to find Astrid sound asleep. He considered waking her, but she looked too peaceful to disturb. Her lips were ever-so-slightly curved into a smile, her hands clutched a fluffy pillow, and her chest rose and fell with each soft breath she took. Clearly she needed the extra rest, and clearly she was comfortable snuggled amongst his bedding.

Sighing, Hiccup reached over and tugged the covers back up to her nose. He then set an alarm on his phone so she wouldn’t miss her game and headed towards the door. But as soon as he had his hand on the knob, he glanced over at Astrid one last time. She made his oversized bed look so cozy, so inviting, that he slowly turned around. Biting his lip, he climbed in next to her, cautiously rested his chin on her shoulder, and closed his eyes.

Breakfast could wait.

#hiccstrid #like heaven au #modern au #fanfic #my writing #httyd #hiccstrid fluff #best friends fluff

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thinkingaboutmalta · 4 years

Text

Swearing in "The Old Guard" (and one bonus fact)

The last time I watched The Old Guard, I made note of every time a character swore, and what words they used. For Science and Procrastination, I guess. I don’t have a tumblr, but I felt like sharing my findings anyway.

I broke it down into one column for each of the immortals and grouped everyone else together. For swear words, I went with “Fuck” and variants (e.g. fucking, motherfucker); “Shit” and variants (e.g. shitty, bullshit); (God)damn(it); “Jesus (Christ)”; “ass(hole)”; and “other.”

There are a total of 48 instances of swearing; 34 of those are by the immortals.

Further, the swearing in the film can be grouped into roughly three categories: emphatic swearing, social swearing, and hurtful or offensive swearing. Don’t quote me on this, this is based on some paper I read like five years ago. But anyway, this isn’t Serious Linguistics™, this is an close reading of a movie so…. anyway. Emphatic swearing is when you get hurt, or when you want to add weight to your words. Most of the swearing in The Old Guard falls under this category – when getting stabbed, when something goes wrong, when they’re done with the world, etc. Social swearing signals that you are with people you feel very comfortable or relaxed around; you all know one another, are comfortable with one another, and don’t care about social customs. In a way, this is also a way to show the people you’re with that you care about them, even when the situation itself is strained or stressful. Hurtful or offensive swearing, finally, is mostly self-explanatory: swearing directed at another person to make them feel bad and/or show them how much you hate them. These are rather rare in the film – so when they are used, you know they mean business.

Andy

Andy swears the most of any character, 16 times in total. She uses "fuck” (and variants) 7 times, “shit” 5 times, and all other categories once each. (The only other character to use “fuck” is Dizzy, who says “Fuck me” when Nile reveals she has no scar.) Andy uses “motherfuck(er)” three times, twice when referring to Merrick (mood). Andy is also the only immortal to use “Jesus.” She is also quite sweary at Booker after he is hit by the grenade; she even tells him “welcome back, asshole.” It is clearly not meant to be hurtful, as she smiles when she says it and Booker laughs in response. (Which I imagine must really hurt when your stomach is blown to pieces?) Basically, she makes full use of swearing and all its, well, uses.

Nile

Nile is the second-sweariest character, swearing 9 times. Her most common word is “shit,” using it 5 times. She uses swear words from all categories except “fuck” and “jesus (christ)” at least once. She is also the only immortal to use “hell.” In addition, Nile is responsible for one of the two instances of the word “bitch,” saying “son of a bitch” after shooting herself in the foot to prove to Copley she’s immortal. The only other time “bitch” is used is by Merrick, during the final confrontation.

There’s something else about Nile’s swearing that’s interesting. Nile doesn’t swear until after Andy kidnaps her; to be precise, she doesn’t swear until she is out of her uniform. It is certainly understandable that Nile would swear more in the high-stress situation she finds herself in; she is killed, kidnapped, and told she’s immortal all in the span of like, 24 hours. In this light, it looks like leaving (escaping?) the army, she is set free, even if this means unravelling a little first.

Joe

Joe swears 6 times — I have included his “Santa Maria, madre di dio” in the hotel since, as far as I understand, it would be considered highly blasphemous in Islam. Additionally, he uses “shit” twice, and “pissed off,” “goddammit,” and "asshole” one time each: After the ambush in South Sudan, he says he’s “very pissed off;” he mutters “shit” and goddammit" after Merrick stabs him; and he calls Merrick an “asshole” and Booker a “selfish piece of shit.”

It’s quite telling that these are the only two people Joe insults this way. He insults the guard in the van by calling him “a child” and “an infant,” but he doesn’t swear. During his van speech, he is — paradoxically — in control. Furthermore, Joe isn’t angry, not really. The speech is also not about or for the guards, it’s about and for Nicky. So let’s get back to the one time Joe is really angry. That’s when he learns of Booker’s betrayal. He shouts and strains against his bonds. He is never that outwardly angry at any other point — not after the ambush, not in the van, not when Merrick stabs him — not even at Keane after he shot Nicky (though I imagine this would be very different if Nicky had not come back)! Everything else that happens to Joe or his loved ones is, on the grand scheme of things, not worthy of his anger. He and his loved ones survive everything that happens to them during the movie. But Booker’s betrayal is different. As the saying goes, “you aren’t that angry at someone you don’t care about.” Excuse me, if you need me, I’ll be over here, crying.

Booker

Surprisingly, at least for me, Booker only swears three times. He uses “shit” twice (once in French, “merde”) and also the French swear word “putain”. He says “shit” when discovering that Andy is no longer immortal, and the other two times he swears are when he drops his booze in the post-credits scene. Interestingly, emphatic swearing is the only kind Booker uses. He doesn’t swear to be hurtful. But he doesn’t partake in the easy-going social swearing either, not even in response to other characters doing it. For instance, when Andy jokingly tells him being blown up is “an improvement,” he only laughs, and doesn’t respond with something along the lines of “fuck you, too,” which tbh I kind of expected when I first watched the film [and I think he actually does in the comic?? I only read it once and don’t have it on hand, soz]. This underlines how much he feels separated from the rest of the group. Excuse me, if you need me, I’ll be over here, crying.

Nicky

Unsurprisingly, Nicky never swears. He prefers to glare glarily and make cryptic threats.

Quynh

Quynh has all but five lines and none of them include swearing.

Other

I’d like to draw special attention to the word “bitch,” as it is used in a hurtful manner only once, and by the villain. At this point, Merrick is already defeated; his entire private army has been wiped out and he is alone in his penthouse, facing both Andy and Nile. He has a gun on them, but he is far from being the one in control of the situation; he rambles and swears (dare I say) uncontrollably. Andy and Nile, meanwhile, remain perfectly calm, and don’t even talk to Merrick; the only thing they say is Andy asking Nile if she speaks Russian. And then, of course, they kill him. The insult is ineffective, and only shows just how deeply the villain has lost, and that Andy and Nile are strong and confident enough to not let it hurt them.

Tl;dr: The Old Guard is a movie that’s chock-full of small details that further characterisation, and its use of swearing is no different. In The Old Guard, the way a character swears (or does not swear) reflects their personality, state of mind, and even offers insight into their relationships with one another. Swearing is used not exactly sparingly, but deliberately.

Bonus round: Andy calling Nile “kid”

Andy doesn’t call Nile “kid” that much; only three times in total, and all are before she knows Nile’s first name. Once she is told Nile’s name, she does not call Nile “kid” again. Furthermore, Andy doesn’t ask Nile’s name until after the plane fight. Which has another interesting detail: In that fight, Nile makes Andy lose her balance. No other opponent in the whole film manages this (in a fair fight, that is). I think it was in this moment, in which Nile Freeman made Andromache “forgot more ways to kill than entire armies will ever learn” the Scythian lose her footing, that Andy started to care about Nile beyond her being “the new one.” That look when Andy spits out a tooth? That look says “Oh, I like you!” I think this is the moment that Nile gains Andy’s full respect

Thank you for coming to my rambly TEDtalk and allowing me to overanalyse something that isn’t the subject of my thesis.

(Also, I now have a headcanon that Nicky only swore, like, three times in his entire life. One of those was when Joe blue-shelled him in Mario Kart.)

#the old guard #submission #tog #the old guard: netflix #i don't know what i did to deserve this masterpiece submitted to my humble blog with no original content #but i'm so grateful

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yuthoe · 3 years

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Day 10: Paint Me (PENTAGON: Kino)

OH MY LORD THIS TURNED OUT LONGER THAN I PLANNED AND IT'S 12:30AM HERE, BUT IM JUST GONNA POST IT AND ADD THE REST OF THE TAGS LATER

anyway, today's prompt from this list is

Day 10: Meet Cute

and the scenario of reaching out for the same thing at the same time just would not leave my head lmao. so have this haha, it took me a surprisingly short time to finish, but the only reason im posting this on the 11th is that i was procrastinating

PAIRING: Kino/Kang Hyunggu x reader. GENRE: fic, fluff. WARNINGS: none. WORD COUNT: 1,389.

---

Art Bar is four hours away from your apartment, and therefore a luxury you only indulge in every few months, when you have a free day or two. It’s also an excuse for you to splurge and get new art supplies—your favorite brush broke last week and you’ve run out of green paint for the landscape piece you’ve been working on.

But also there’s this really high quality sketchbook they started selling recently and you desperately want one. You’d been eyeing it for the past month, sighing wistfully every time an ad for it crossed your feed on social media.

The faint smell of coffee slips past your nose as you push past the glass doors, and you take a look at the overhead menu of the cafe corner by the entrance, making a mental note to get a latte after you do your shopping. You hook a metal shopping basket on your elbow and head in.

The first stop is the brushes, and you quickly look through the choices for the exact ones that broke, and another finer brush as replacement for the one that’s currently losing a lot of hair. You eye one of the more expensive options, biting your lip and considering getting one, but you’re probably not going to end up using it for fear of wearing out the bristles.

You quickly look away and head for the oil paints, running through the really good selection, and pluck out a green, white, and black tube, along with a pink for the flowers. The pile of canvases off to the side catch your eye and lure you over, immediately taking a 24cm round canvas, just about the size of a small platter and perfect for an experimental circular piece.

The voice inside your head is screaming at you to mind your spending, but your sense of reason and all self-control get left at the door whenever you step into the store. The copic markers are teasing you, sitting docilely in their neatly organized shelves, and the section of the store dedicated solely for Faber Castell tools further entices you to grab a whole colored pencils set and just run away with it.

But you sigh deeply, stroke the row of pencils longingly and whisper, “Soon, my lovelies…”

You look around for that sketchbook that’s been haunting your waking moments, finally spotting it by the cash registers and beelining for it.

There’s one sample left open and you run your fingertips over the page, testing the smoothness of the paper, the thickness of every page, and inspect the ones filled out with watercolor, charcoal, and regular graphite. The more you look at it, the more you desperately want it.

Alas, it’s expensive, and you can’t afford a really big one right now, especially with the other tools in your basket that need to be purchased, so you go for the next smaller size instead.

A hand meets yours as you reach for the pad, and you jerk back. The owner of the hand recoils as well and says, “Oh, I’m sorry—were you about to get that?”

Oh, he’s cute, you think, dumbly nodding at his question. “Ah, yeah… But it’s okay, you can take it.”

He tilts his head, brows furrowing slightly and chestnut hair falling over his pretty eyes. He’s carrying his own shopping basket, loaded with a few small rectangular canvases, a bunch of copic markers, brushes, and a watercolor tin. “Are you sure? I think you were reaching for it first, though. And it’s the last one on display.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine, it’s fine. I’m pretty sure they have more at the back anyway, ‘cuz this brand has gotten pretty good reviews lately.”

“Ah yeah, that’s true,” he replies, wagging a finger at you. “I’ve seen a lot of reviews of it on YouTube, and I’ve been wanting one so bad.” He giggles, looking at the sketchbook fondly.

“I totally get it, I’ve been saving up for one for a while, too.” You smile at him. “That’s why I’m saying you should just take it, they probably have more in stock.”

He hums, thinking it over, but the allure of the sketchbook is too strong and he says, “Well, if you insist, I’ll gladly take it.” He picks up the last packaged sketchbook and slides it next to the canvases in his basket. “Thanks for this,” he says as you both move to the register.

It takes a while for him to pay for his items and you look around the frames displayed behind the counter as you wait. After around five minutes, the man steps aside with a hug bag, cradling it like a child. You see him move to admire the Faber Castell section nearby as you step forward with your basket.

“Excuse me,” you ask the cashier as you set the basket on the countertop. “Is there any more of the A4 size of that new sketchbook?”

“I’ll check our inventory for you,” she cheerily says, typing in a code in the computer and looking at it briefly before turning back to you. “Oh, I’m sorry, it seems like the last A4 one was just purchased. The next restock won’t be for another week or two. If you want, we can get your number and notify you when our stock is replenished.”

You can’t help but feel a bit down at the cashier’s answer—you have been waiting for weeks to get one, and who knows now when you’ll be able to stop by here again?

“No, it’s okay,” you say and gesture to the basket. “Just these then, please.”

The transaction is smooth and soon enough you’re clutching a paper bag of your own and heading for the cafe corner to get that latte—and a cupcake because you want to feel slightly better about the situation.

Sketchbook Guy is there too, his lavender patterned cardigan contrasting with the green diamonds wallpaper in the most complementary way. He turns to go to the claiming area and sees you, waves with a tight smile on his face.

You reply with a smile and order at the counter quickly, and step aside to wait for your coffee and pastry beside Sketchbook Guy.

There’s an awkward silence between you, until he finally blurts out, “Okay, I couldn’t help but overhear the cashier lady earlier.” He rummages in his paper bag and takes out the coveted sketchbook, holding it out to you. “Please have this. You said you were saving up for it for a while.”

“No, I can’t,” you say, waving your hand to decline him. “You already paid for it, and I told you to take it, anyway.”

Sketchbook Guy smiles, nudging the book closer to you. “Please. I insist. And if it’s the payment you’re concerned about, you can pay me back. With coffee, or something.”

You scoff. “This costs way more than one cup of coffee.”

He’s nodding before you’re even finished speaking. “Yeah, I know.” There’s a mischievous purse to his lips and your brows knit for a moment before you register his words and feel a heat rise to your cheeks.

“Ah… uh… I mean, sure? Okay?” you stammer, taking the sketchbook with both hands and looking at it before meeting his eyes again. “I live quite far from here, though, so—I don’t know—maybe we can, like, schedule something?”

He smiles even wider. “Yeah, of course. Here, I’ll give you my number.” He holds a hand out and you pass your phone to him. Long fingers tap on the screen and you hear a soft piano a moment later.

“Here you go,” he says, handing your phone back. You peek at the screen, at the new contact simply named Hyunggu, and the string of numbers underneath it. “Now you know my name and number, and we can talk about when you can buy me that coffee.”

This dude has got to be the smoothest and most charming guy you’ve ever met, and it’s leaving you flustered and amused at the same time. You’re basically left with no choice but to go along with him, but you don’t even mind it.

“Okay,” you say, nodding and pocketing your phone as your drink and to-go bag arrive. “My name’s Y/N. I’ll message you later about that coffee.”

#kdiarynet #theme: may trope mayhem 2021 #pentagon #pentagon kino #kino #kang kino #kang hyunggu #fic: mine #fic: kino #fic: not spicy

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july-19th-club · 4 years

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untamed modern AU in which nhs anonymously starts a true crime podcast investigating the death...of his own brother...not that the listeners know that...and gets guests in to help with the investigation:

lan wangji (history adjunct professor, first chair violinist for local orchestra, perpetual grad student, knows a lot of things about a lot of things but is absolutely the worst person to have call in to your podcast...where people have to talk about things...out loud...)

wei wuxian (just got out of jail, spent the past however-many years doing time for something he KNOWS he didn’t do; this becomes a minor sideplot investigation into who set him up (it was jgy) and ties into the main mystery. great guest but has a tendency to dominate the conversation when excited)

lan xichen (engaged to the deceased, this episode is an exercise in deep, deep, painful discomfort and secondhand awkwardness because it comes at a point AFTER the audience realizes that their intrepid host is in fact the oft-mentioned but never-interviewed surviving nie brother but BEFORE any of the other characters know it. least of all lan xichen, who is barely keeping it together as The Host asks him gentle but pointed questions about where his current fiance was the night his ex died and is too generally upset to see through nhs’s admittedly excellent voice work)

jiang cheng (there’s actually no real reason why he’s been invited because he is not an expert on any of the major points of the investigation, but during the side sleuthing into wwx’s frame job he and The Host sort of find they get along so now nhs keeps coming up with excuses to have him call in and record a guest spot. jiang cheng still doesn't recognize the voice of his high school crush, although we get the impression that wwx figured it out a while ago and is keeping mum for his own inscrutable reasons)

luo “mianmian” qingyang (private investigator, takes herself seriously and haaaates it when you call her a fuzzy baby sheep but cannot escape her own adorable nickname. has a good few years of solidly closed cold cases under her belt and agrees to become a recurring guest consultant because she likes a challenge and because she used to know the victim back in her college sport days and they really got on. feels a sense of personal need for closure as well as a thirst for justice)

qin su (previous fiance of lan xichen’s current fiance - it’s a tangled mess of jin family politics and she agrees to help the investigation despite really just wanting to live a quiet life with her kid, rusong. as the investigation deepens and the true history of her past relationship comes to light, she goes through some very rough times and contemplates some dark shit - but with the support of the other characters, survives to see her manipulator get his just desserts).

and of course, your favorite - my favorite - everybody’s favorite! - wen qing, medical consultant extraordinaire. she’s worked as a surgeon and is currently a coroner, and is usually happy to pop in whenever she has a free minute to record a guest spot diving into whatever weird body horror stuff is happening in the research of the week, or answer The Host’s questions. she’s very popular with the audience for her no-nonsense approach to the whole armchair-investigation thing, her friendly manner, and her reams of cool, creepy anatomy facts, which she loves to share with a deadpan grossout joy . multiple listeners, mostly the sapphic ones, have written in offering their hands in marriage but she graciously declines them all, because she’s a professional

actually maybe the wwx plot takes place BEFORE the nmj plot only in that. nhs investigates a lot of things while putting his brother’s case on the back burner. he’s not ready to share his work until he’s made some headway, so he bulks up his rep as an armchair investigator in the meantime by, as The Host, working his way through a lot of untamedverse mysteries. so we get arcs like:

Yi City: The Making of a Ghost Town (local serial killer)

The Incredibly Weird Story of Modern Artifact Smuggling (featuring a possibly apocryphal snake turtle)

arc about the destruction of Yunmeng and a family in crisis that i’m too lazy to name right now

Burial: the Dismantling and Framing of a Controversial Hero

and finally, when he’s run out of other cases to procrastinate with, the big one:

Who Killed Nie Mingjue?

ex. of an excerpt bc im too lazy and busy to write this whole fic but its eating up my brainspace with how goddamn good it is:

"...but it would be wrong to say that this town has given up all its secrets. Why did Xue Yang never notice that Xiao Qing wasn't blind? Or did he know, and keep the information to himself? What happened to the original inhabitants of the house? The place was abandoned by the time the Xiaos got there, and for all the times the survivors have been interviewed, it’s clear that even Qing, the only local of the bunch, has never known why. So we can only guess. And perhaps most puzzlingly, to me at least: who does that body in the basement belong to? Buried without ceremony in a hollow of concrete, headless, unknown, unclaimed? One last victim of the Yi City Killer? The Yi City Killer almost never went to such lengths to hide bodies, and he wasn’t interested in dismembering or disfiguring his conquests. He was a spree slaughterer, and the body in the basement, while still unidentified, has certain markers that seem to suggest its fate was more personal in nature. Not to mention, if the head’s not with the body - does someone still have it? It goes without saying that the odds of two killers operating out of the same extremely specific location, totally unknown to each other, is extremely small. So was the body in the basement, after all, just one more casualty of an insatiable ghost town? Maybe. Or maybe there’s something else happening there. Something deeper. Something it’ll take a lot longer than five forty-minute episodes with ad breaks to figure out. Something...

...that's a mystery for another day, because right now we're all out of time. Until that day comes, I'm your Host. And this is The Unsolved."

#jyl and jzx's deaths are not a mystery arc because they're not dead in this one #and im TOYING with the idea that maybe nmj isnt dead either #not sure how he COULD be alive but i just like to imagine that he is in any au i come up with #the untamed #q #YEAH ive been listening to arden what OF it #listen. if any single one of these characters was mostly likely to succumb to the temptation to have a podcast. itd be nhs. you know it

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romewritingshop · 4 years

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Wake up Parker! Chapter Fifteen: The breaking point

Relationship: Peter Parker x Tall Older Reader (Peter is 22 and Reader is 26/27)

Warnings: Angst, Tension, dissapointment, revelation, anger

Word Count Total: 2779 (This Chapter)

Tagged: @bggerbtch @technicallykawaiisoul

Summary: Peter Parker is a student in the city of Brooklyn. He’s lazy, spoilt and he procrastinates a lot. He meets a woman named (Y/N), She’s recently moved to Brooklyn for an independent life. Something Peter is fascinated by. Over the course of a few months, Peter needs to realise that he has to grow up and become responsible for his life.

WAKE UP PARKER! MASTERLIST

Over the next week or so, Peter got out of the house and took various photos of the city. Finally getting his mojo back as his photos ranged from street art to people and the iconic structures of Brooklyn city. Today was a really good day because it has been about a month and a half since (Y/N) let him stay at her house. He needed to do something to thank her. Peter couldn’t buy a gift because he had no money.

Maybe he can show her that he can cook an egg. Make her a meal and he hopes that she would appreciate the gesture because she’s always working hard. Peter was climbing up the stairs to the apartment and spotted Natasha with a postman. She was signing a parcel from him and she sent a small greeting towards Peter.

The postman went and Natasha was about to head into her apartment when Peter called out to her. She was probably the best person to ask. Natasha stood in the doorway of her apartment, taking in Peter. He was a cute boy, not her type but she can appreciate his good looks. She smiled and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

"Natasha. Do you know how to cook eggs?"

She took a moment to process but gave a nod, jerking her head towards her apartment and walking to the kitchen. Dropping her parcel onto the sofa and she got out the utensils they'd need to make eggs. Peter followed in and closed the front door, taking in her apartment and immediately felt Natasha's presence. Red painted walls and black furniture were dominant colours as he rounded the corner to Natasha’s open kitchen.

“So Peter? Why’d you want to learn how to make eggs?”

(Y/N) sat in her office arranging the layout for the fashion section of the magazine. The articles had been written up and the photos had been taken. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Mr. Barnes carefully as he sifted through a large pile of articles on his table. Most of them were from freelance writers but among the pile was her article. Having now gone through six drafts, she was hundred percent sure this is the one that will catch his eye.

After dropping off the last box on the software, she saved the file and emailed it to Mr. Barnes. Having been at the office for about a month or so, she has found the work at the company is rewarding. The only issue is getting Mr. Barnes to be impressed by her. Over the month, he’s been indifferent to her. Treating her as an inconvenience rather than a colleague, apart from the interview day, Mr. Barnes hasn’t even talked about the weather to her. (Y/N) hopes that her article will make Mr. Barnes talk to her or even look at her.

She shook her head to clear out the weird thoughts creeping in. Mr. Barnes was her boss and all she wanted was for him to approve her article, give advice and possibly publish it. She wanted nothing more than that. Even if he was handsome, intelligent and silent. Her absolute type. Mr. Barnes is her boss and it would mean the world if he had a look at her article.

“So I see you pining after Mr. Barnes.”

(Y/N) stood up and bumped her knee against her desk, grasping at it and cursing in pain. She sat back down and spotted the demon in her life: Clint. She furrowed her eyebrows at him and squeezed her knee as if it would make the pain disappear.

“I’m not pining after him! I’m trying to see if he read my article.”

“Well could you be any less subtle? It’s like you’re begging him to fu-”

(Y/N) put a hand on Clint’s mouth to get him to shut up. She honestly did not understand what was going on with him as she shushed him.

“Shut up! What’s wrong with you today?”

“Umhmmhm.” (Y/N) removed her hand to let Clint speak clearly. “Just felt like messing around with you. What draft number is this article?”

“Six.”

Clint shook his head and sat at the edge of her desk, wrapping his hands around her knee to massage some of the pain.

“You do know that the more drafts you do, the more you lose the essence of the article.”

“I get that Clint but every time he doesn’t read the article, something new pops up for me and I just have to work it into the article. I just hope one of these drafts catches his eye.”

A ping rang on her computer as (Y/N) opened up her email, Clint coming round to have a look and peek. Also to judge her on the arrangement of her desktop. Nothing bad and detrimental as Clint did a mental fist bump at (Y/N)’s organisation skills.

Sent @ 14.51 p.m.

Looks good. Forward to Carol and then meet me in my office, now.

J. Barnes

“Wow! Invigorating!”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she got up and grabbed her notebook and pen, quickly forwarding the email to Carol at the printing press. She excused herself from Clint and rounded around her office to Mr. Barnes’s. Knocking and entering, standing right in front of him with her notebook open to take down notes for what needs to be done on her end.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”

“I’ve gone through the articles and have chosen the ones to feature in our magazine. This pile is rejected so contact the writers and say that we’ll use their articles next time. Maybe tell them to redraft or pick another subject. Also send a follow up email to Steve and ask him what’s taking long on the photos for the ‘Scenic Locations’.”

(Y/N) gave a nod and tucked her pen into the notebook, grabbing a semi large pile of paper off his desk, she spotted something and pulled the sheet out, bringing it in front of her. It was her article as (Y/N) took a deep breath. It was devoid of notes or comments and (Y/N) felt heart sag a little.

“(Y/N), leave.”

She blinked into reality and gave a nod to Mr. Barnes, almost stomping out of the office with steam billowing out of her ears. She turned into her office and huffed into her seat, oblivious to the fact that Clint was still sat on her desk, with a now concerned look on his face.

“What happened?”

(Y/N) rubbed her temples and ran her hands over her head, leaning back in her chair with her hands cupping the back of her head.

“He rejected the article. Said to either redraft or pick another subject.”

“Was that to you directly?”

“No but he might as well have said it. My article was in a pile with other rejected freelance writers.”

Clint shook his head and got off her desk, placing a hand on her shoulder with comfort.

“Hey! Don’t take it personally. Mr. Barnes might not have even read all of them. Sometimes he just cherry picks the first five and refuses the rest.”

(Y/N) gave a nod and scrunched up her article, tossing it into the bin by the door of her office. Clint could tell it was bothering her a lot as he smiled at (Y/N) and left her office to go type up his own article. Although the good news was that she didn’t have much else to do other than phone up the freelance writers to inform them that their articles had been rejected. Two hours later, she was ready to go, packing her bag and locking her computer before stalking out of the building, without a glance to Mr. Barnes and a quick goodbye to Clint.

Two subway stops and a few minutes walk later, (Y/N) was trudging up the steps to her apartment ready for a night of take out and an Audrey Hepburn film. Just as she was going to reach into her purse to get her keys out, her front door open with a smiling Peter, dressed down in some grey shorts and a Pickle Rick t-shirt. (Y/N) had completely forgotten that Peter was staying in her house. Guess there goes a night of relaxation as she steps into her apartment, completely tuning out Peter as her eyes zero in on the mess.

Clothes strewn everywhere and empty cheese crusted pizza boxes, (Y/N) dropped her handbag by the entrance. She was taken aback by the mess as she took a deep breath to calm her anger. Peter was rambling about something but she couldn’t care to focus. Peter was glad that (Y/N) finally made it home because after so many attempts he managed to make a fried egg. He went to the kitchen and brought the egg to (Y/N) whilst recounting the day he had.

“Hi. You'll never believe this. I’m not even going to ask why you’re so late today? But it doesn’t matter. I made an egg for you. Nat taught me. You were right, she's so cool and her apartment…”

This was the last straw for her. He just needed to go as she glared at Peter with the coldest ice breeze that made Peter shiver unconsciously. He couldn’t understand where this chill came from as he glanced at (Y/N) unsure of why she was absolutely being icy.

“Shut up Peter! Look at this mess. Who is going to clean this mess? Why are your clothes everywhere? Why do you have empty pizza boxes on the floor?” His smile faltered slightly as his eyes dropped from the plate and up to (Y/N)’s eyes. Her anger was a little unnerving as he took a step back from her berating. He felt like a little kid again as Mr or Mrs. Stark would constantly yell at him for messing up.

“I made an egg for you.”

That made matters worse as she yelled at him louder, telling him off for the mess before stomping out of her house and slamming the door. He was sure everyone heard their argument as he stood rooted in the spot by the front door. Feelings of disappointment swarmed his mind as he took in the messy living room. It was a little messy and she was right about the clothes strewn around. Peter took the plate back to the kitchen to pick up his clothes.

He was pushing everyone away and he couldn’t push (Y/N) away. She had become one of his closest friends and without her, he would absolutely be lost. He needed to be better for her and he needed to show her that he was a responsible adult. He glanced around the room with a sigh and set about cleaning the place. Picking up the pizza boxes and tossing them into her bin, he grabbed a broom from a small closet in the bathroom and swept the dust into a pan. Discarding it into the broom and making his sofa bed neat. Whilst cleaning, he felt his anxiety slowly melt as his eyes darted towards the front door. Wondering if (Y/N) would come back.

“Thanks for letting me camp here Nat. I’m sorry for the noise.”

“Don’t worry about it. Hopefully you guys sort out what’s happened.”

(Y/N) smiled at Natasha and stepped out of her front door, glancing over to her own front door. Natasha let her come in to cool off and now she needed to have a proper conversation with Peter. The way she blew up on him was wrong and she really shouldn’t have gotten her anger over Mr. Barnes be vented out on him. She stepped to her door, knocking tentatively as she tested the handle, finding it opened easily.

She cautiously stepped in and noticed her bare floors: no pizza boxes and clothes; it was neat and clean as a small smile crept on. Peter must have felt bad and cleaned up, noticing he sat at her dining table with his head resting on his elbows. (Y/N) went towards the kitchen, grabbing two cups and brewing up some jasmine tea, bringing both to the table and placing one in front of Peter.

“Peter?”

He roused from his sleep as he tried to make the blurry vision fade away and he saw (Y/N) was there. Groggily, he sat up and spotted a steaming cup of tea in front of him. She sat opposite him, upright and both hands clasped around her mug.

“Look, Peter I’m sorry I got angry at you. I didn’t have a good day at work and blowing up at you was not the right thing.”

“No, I’m kinda glad you did. I would never have realised that I’m a messy idiot and that I’m adult enough to clean up my own mess. I promise to try to be a bit cleaner, next time you come home.”

She gave a simple nod and took a sip from her mug. Her eyes were taking in the kitchen, when she noticed a plate with an egg on it. Thinking back to earlier when Peter had eagerly brought the plate to her, guilt was starting to settle in her heart. A small apologetic smile as she got up and grabbed a fork from the drawer, bringing the plate to the table and taking a bite from the egg.

It wasn't anything extraordinary, just that same egg taste although it was seasoned well. It was made special because Peter worked hard and it was not right to dismiss his efforts in a simple task. It was a huge step and (Y/N) smiled earnestly at Peter.

"Peter, I'm proud about your egg. Honestly it's really impressive."

Peter felt a blush across his cheeks as he rubbed at the back of the neck. He felt a lot better from her praise as he gave a nod of appreciation. (Y/N) finished off the egg and sat contently, watching Peter run his finger along the rim of his mug. There was still a lingering tension in the air and (Y/N) realised that Peter needed something else.

“Peter. Don’t take this the wrong way but I think you should go back home.”

Peter stilled as his eyes darted up to connect with (Y/N)’s. She could tell he was panicking at her words and she quickly did some damage control to rectify her words. “Look, your dad -”

“Not my dad.”

“Tony Stark. He has such a successful company and you’re here in my house, making eggs. Why don’t you go back and try again?”

Peter glanced up at (Y/N), understanding what she was trying to say but how could he? After what he did and what happened. She didn’t even know the real reason why he left home. After a month or so of staying in her house, it was time he faced the memory of leaving home. Telling her how and why it happened.

“(Y/N), do you remember the day I came to your house?” A solemn nod as Peter continued. “See, three days before that, I failed my college exams so I didn't get to graduate. I lied to Mr. Stark and he saw right through it. Things got heated between us and he told me to leave. I’ve failed him many times and now I can’t go back unless I’m successful. It’s my fault.

“You look at me and you see his success but I'm not like him, (Y/N). I’m not a Stark. I went to his office for a week. If you went there, you’d be dead. It sucks your soul and it just wasn't me! However over the past few weeks, I'm starting to realise I'm nobody without him. I don’t want to feel like that, I want to be my own person. That’s why I’ve decided that I want to work. Please don't kick me out right now. Just give me one more chance. Please.”

Peter poured out all his insecurities to her and (Y/N) could tell the child Peter was gone. Instead a mature Peter sat opposite her, asking for a chance and help to do and be better. She simply could not refuse him. At the mention of a job and the camera that was always in his hands, when she first met him, she knew the perfect job for him.

“Alright Peter. I can give another chance and I might be able to help you get a job.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: GET A JOB! KEEP A JOB! BE A JOB!

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #peter parker tom holland #wake up sid #Wake up Sid!#wake up sid au #indian movie #indian au #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #marvel crossover #Marvel AU #marvel cinematic au #marvel cinematic universe au #bollywood #Bollywood AU #Bollywood crossover

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avatarnao · 4 years

Text

A Million Dreams CH. 4

Pairing: Zukka, Kataang

Soulmate AU, College AU, Roommate AU

First, Previous, Next

A03

******

Monday

“My own nephew! Can you believe it?”

“Iroh’s in rare form today,” Suki comments, leaning closer to Sokka so they can speak quietly. Sokka huffs out a laugh and he can’t help but agree. Their professor paces back and forth at the front of the lecture all, ranting and raving about his nephew’s latest antics. “What’s got him riled up today?”

“He said tea was just hot leaf water,” Sokka fills her in, because Suki is consistently fifteen minutes late every class. It probably has something to do with her insane schedule and a class before this that’s on the opposite end of campus. He knows she must sprint to get to this class as on time as possible.

To be fair, his nephew is technically right. Not that Sokka would ever voice that outloud and to their professor. He’s pretty sure he’d fail immediately and be kicked out of class for the rest of the semester.

This class is only an elective and he’s taking it pass/fail but still…

Suki has that look on her face saying she agrees with his nephew but is wisely choosing to remain silent.

“Um… Professor?” someone chimes in from the front row. Iroh stops mid rant and turns to the student with a patient smile. “Not that this isn’t a good story but… what does this have to do with different types of plants?”

Professor Iroh stares at the student for a painfully long moment before rocking back on his heels with a laugh. He smacks his forward and moves over to his laptop to change to the next slide.

“Not all tea is made from the leaves of a plant,” he explains. On the screen is an image of two flowers. “The white dragon bush is known for producing a tea so delicious it’s heartbreaking. It requires the use of the flower and the leaves. They grow all over the eastern part of the Earth Kingdom, but be careful not to mistake the white jade bush for the white dragon bush for it is highly poisonous.”

Iroh gestures to the images of nearly identical flowers. “The one on the left is the white dragon and the one on the right is the white jade…” He pauses, squinting at the slide, and humming thoughtfully. “Or perhaps it’s the other way around…”

Sokka groans, sinking into his seat with a frown. Of course their professor can’t even tell the difference on a subject he’s supposedly an expert in….

“We have a saying for those plants on Kyoshi Island,” Suki comments. Her pen taps against the desk in thought as Iroh mutters to himself. “Delicious and rare is ruby red, but eat the white flower and you’ll be dead.” Sokka snorts.

“ That’s what you guys came up with?” he teases, though he makes a note of the saying. Never know what it might come in handy.

“It was part of the warriors’ survival training,” she tells him.

“No matter!” Iroh suddenly declares. “The plant is exceptionally rare so it’s unlikely for you to encounter it out in nature. If you do, however, accidentally consume the poisonous one, the antidote lies within the bacui berry.” He pauses again, thinking. “Or was it the maka’ole berry?”

Sokka groans again, sinking back into his seat.

Maybe he should’ve signed up for a different class….

Tuesday

Sokka’s nursing what is guaranteed to be a migraine come morning as he steps up to Katara’s place and gives a firm knock.The door slides open and he’s greeted with the wide-eyed gaze of Aang’s pet lemur.

“Hi, Momo,” he greets, frowning a little in confusion. Why is Momo answering the door? When did Momo even figure out how to open the door? Isn’t going out the window easier for the creature? “Are Aang and Katara here?”

Momo just blinks at him, chitters something, then swoops further into the house. Sokka follows him inside. He can hear the very muffled but very distinct yelling that is his sister’s voice. Her words may be indecipherable but Sokka’s been on the receiving end of that tone, and he’s not about to disturb that rant.

Instead, Sokka makes himself comfortable on the couch and turns the TV, idly flipping through channels for something to watch. Eventually, the yelling dies down, and Toph shuffles out of her room to join him on the couch.

“Do I even want to know what’s going on?” he asks her and she shrugs.

“Her and Sparky got into an argument at practice today,” Toph replies.

“Sparky?” Sokka mutters before the rest of her response clicks. “Wait… you’re on the team too? Why am I just now finding out about this?”

“They just announced who the starting benders would be, and today was our first day practicing together.” Oh… he supposes that makes sense… though why didn’t Katara say anything about Toph being on the team? Then again, they haven’t had much time for sibling bonding lately. They’ve both been kind of busy....

A frustrated sigh comes from the hall, and Sokka twists around to find Katara and Aang stepping into the room. Katara levels Toph with a disappointed frown.

“I told you not to put your feet on the table, Toph,” she snaps coming to a stop beside the couch. Her hands fall to her waist. “You’re getting it dirty.”

Sokka groans, head falling into his hand as the girls begin arguing over how clean their home should be. He came here to spend time with his sister and friends, not to listen to them argue. A flash of orange slides into his peripheral and Aang leans into his line of sight.

“Hey, Sokka,” he greets. His grin falls as he takes his friend in. “Are you okay?”

“Just a headache,” Sokka mutters, and Aang brightens.

“Oh! Do you want some medicine?”

There is nothing Sokka would love more than something to curb his headache. He eagerly follows Aang down the hall and away from the growing argument behind them.

“Have you been sleeping okay?” Aang asks as they enter an obscenely large bathroom. Sokka sits down on the toilet, taking in a space large enough to comfortably fit all four of them with room to spare.

“Midterms are coming up,” Sokka mumbles, shrugging. “So about as well as any student preparing for midterms.” Not to mention he’s been in the library every night until midnight trying to get a term paper done by Thursday. It’s mostly been Suki lecturing him for spending hours browsing the internet instead of researching or Zuko laughing at his horrible doodles. Sokka would be offended over the art student’s teasing but he’s just happy his roommate has decided to join their study sessions.

Logically, he knows he needs to start the paper, but the paper is nothing more than an in-depth analysis of Love Amongst the Dragons . He’s totally got that in the bag. There’s barely any research that needs to be done for it anyways, but Suki did spend a good forty-five minutes last night lecturing him on waiting until the last minute to get work done.

It’s not Sokka’s fault that he’s a master procrastinator… or that Zuko decided to join them and distract him with animal videos for hours on end.

Then there was that one night Zuko talked him into watching the mover based on the play and spent the whole time viciously tearing every detail apart. Sokka has no idea what the guy’s doing studying art when he should be a film critic. Zuko’s running commentary alone had Sokka in tears from laughing so hard. They’d had to pause at one point so Sokka could collect himself.

Okay... so maybe he’s been goofing off more than working but his paper is due on Thursday and that’s… two day away. He’s got plenty of time to work on it.

Sokka’s so lost in thought he doesn’t even realize Aang is speaking until pills are being put in front of his face. He blinks at Aang’s hand. Aang gives him a wide smile as he takes the medicine and downs it in one go.

“What was the question?” he asks.

“I was just wondering how your classes were going,” Aang says, not the least bit bothered over Sokka’s lack of attention. “Katara’s been spending a lot of time in her study lately, I guess for the same reason as you.” He shrugs. “Not that I really know what it’s like going to school.”

“Trust me,” Sokka tells him, rising from his seat. They begin making their way back to the girls. “I would take world adventures and experiences over reading about them in books.”

Unfortunately, Katara and Toph are far from ending their argument. If anything, Sokka notes, they seem to be winding up to really get into it. Top’s since moved off the couch, squaring up to Katara with a glare. She jabs a hard finger into Katara’s chest.

“It’s not his fault you moved right into his blindspot,” Toph snaps. Katara scoffs. Toph presses on before she can offer a rebuttal. “He was perfectly lined up to take the shot and you got in his way! Of course, he was going to hit you!”

“What,” Sokka snaps. Beside him, Aang sighs with the sort of resignation of one who’s heard this argument far too many times. He probably has, if Sokka’s being honest. This sounds like something Katara wouldn’t be able to let go of. Sokka frowns and glances at Aang, silently demanding an explanation.

“Nobody got hurt,” Aang says. “He managed to stop before Katara was actually hit but…” He frowns. “She’s still pretty upset about it.”

“He’s lucky we weren’t bending,” Katara snaps, rounding on Aang and Sokka with a frown of her own. “I could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

“We’re bending , Katara,” Toph growls. “Any one of us could get hurt by accident.”

“Then someone with better control should be on the team,” Katara growls back.

“If he lacked control, he would’ve hit you,” Toph shouts, arms flying in the air. Aang groans as Katara turns back around and glares at Toph. He gives Sokka a pleading look and Sokka can’t help but feel bad. Sokka thought his headache was bad. He’s willing to bet money Aang has the mother of all migraines brewing.

Sokka misses whatever Katara says, too lost in excuses to get him and Aang out of the house for a few hours. Toph’s retort, however, he hears clear as day.

“Wow,” she says, voiced tinged with barely contained fury. “Maybe you forgot, Katara, but I’m blind too. Does that mean I shouldn’t be on the team?”

Katara recoils as if she’s been slapped. Silence descends over the group of friends. Sokka spares a glance at Aang who’s watching the girls with shocked disappointment. Well… this is not what he expected when he agreed to meet his friends for a night together. Sokka sucks in a breath and steps forward, prepared to play the role of reasonable older sibling.

“I don’t really know the whole story,” he begins. “But from what Toph told me, it sounds like you just started working together.” Katara levels him with a frown, looking as if she wants to argue but remaining quiet for the time being. Sokka will take it over her, interrupting him with some outrageous accusation. He presses on. “I think you just need to give it time and make an effort to work as a team.”

“Sokka’s right,” Aang says then, moving to stand next to his friend. “Nobody expects you guys to be perfect right away.”

Katara looks like she wants to argue but something in Aang’s gaze stops her. She huffs and stalks off towards her room. Toph drops back onto the couch with an angry scoff, bare feet slapping against the table.

“I’m sorry, Sokka…” Aang apologizes and why is Aang apologizing? None of this is his fault. “I know you just wanted to hang out and came over to all…” his hand gestures to where Katara once stood. “This…”

“Katara just needs some time to cool down,” Sokka replies. “Why don’t the three of us go pick up some dinner. Maybe she’ll be calmer when we get back.”

Toph leaps off the couch as Aang disappears to let Katara know they’re leaving. He comes back a few minutes later looking concerned but otherwise unbothered by his roommates’ argument.

They head off towards a local cafe.

Katara apologizes to Toph when they return.

They spend the rest of the night playing games and watching random shows on TV.

Sokka’s headache is long gone by the time he heads home for the night, and he finds himself more relaxed than he’s been in over a week. He grins at the thought as he makes his way back to campus, tired and ready to sleep.

Wednesday

“Before everyone goes for the day,” Iroh begins an actual minute before class is set to end. The class collectively groans but settles down for whatever he has to say next. From what Sokka can tell, the general consensus seems to be that Iroh’s a good guy. Strange teacher but good guy nonetheless.

Smiling to himself, Iroh begins handing out flyers to the front row, saying, “You may not know this, but I run a small tea shop just off campus. The Jasmine Dragon,” and his eyes positively sparkle with pride. “We’re having a special event for all my students this Saturday. Bring you friends for some free tea and a break from studying.”

“Well that’s convenient,” Suki mutters as a stack of flyers comes into her possession. She takes one and passes the rest back, studying the paper in her hand. A grin spreads across her face. “This is the tea shop I was telling you about.”

“I suppose it makes sense that the professor teaching tea history owns and runs the most popular tea shop in Ba Sing Se,” Sokka comments, handing off his own stack of flyers. He doesn’t take one. There’s no need if Suki has one herself.

“We should get the gang together and go,” she says as the class finally begins packing up to leave.

“I think Yue’s busy this weekend,” Sokka points out. She mentioned something the other day about preparing for a recital. Though maybe that was last week and he’s finally at that point in the semester where days blur together… “But Aang, Katara, and Toph might want to come?”

“And Zuko.”

“I can ask him…” he mutters, uncertain. Somehow Zuko strikes him as more of a coffee kind of person. He definitely gives off those ‘starving artist who’s been up for a week straight on a project due at midnight and in need of a caffeine fix’ vibes. Maybe he’d want to come and meet some more of Sokka’s friends though? Or is it too presumptuous that the guy doesn’t have friends of his own? In his defense, Sokka’s never seen him with anyone else or even mention knowing other people.

Sokka frowns at the thought, immediately feeling guilty. Just because the guy is quiet doesn’t mean he has no friends…. He really shouldn’t be making that sort of assumption…

Which… maybe he’s just busy hanging out with them or he has work or something.

“The answer will always be ‘no’ if you never ask,” Suki teases, and Sokka huffs a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he replies. “I’ll ask him when I see him later.” They draw to a stop where the walkway diverges, both of them needing to go in opposite directions for their next classes. Something glints in Suki’s gaze as she turns towards him. Sokka has no idea what the look is meant to mean, but he can feel his defenses rising almost instantly.

“You know, Sokka,” she begins, tone hesitant. She glances in the direction of her class before continuing. “I think Zuko really likes spending time with you… and I think maybe you like his company too.”

“Well… yeah,” he replies, somewhat confused. “He’s my friend. We have fun together.” Suki’s brows furrow, mouth twisting as if frustrated he’s not getting what she’s trying to say. “What is this about?”

“You just…” she starts, actually hesitating now. Her gaze remains averted, looking everywhere but at him. It’s… a little uncomfortable seeing confident Suki suddenly becoming nervous. “You haven’t mentioned your soulmate lately is all…”

Oh… he… he supposes he hasn’t…. But that’s not because of Zuko. He’s been busy with classes and term papers and… and work! Sure, the dreams are still there but… life and classes have been holding his attention.

“I’ve just been busy,” he mutters, feeling no conviction behind the worlds but unsure as to why. Sokka finds himself looking in the direction of his next classes as he says, “I’m not sure what Zuko has to do with my soulmate… besides… I didn’t think you’d want to hear anymore about it. It’s not like anything has changed since the dreams started. I still don’t know who they are.”

“Yeah but… Zuko starts spending time with you and you suddenly stop talking about them all together,” she points out. “Don’t you think that might mean something?” Something akin to guilt twists uncomfortably in Sokka’s gut. He’s not… Zuko isn’t some sort of replacement… that’s not fair to him or his soulmate… besides, he and Zuko aren’t romantically involved.

There’s nothing going on between them other than friendship.

“I need to get to class,” he announces, suddenly unable or willing to continue this line of thought. Suki calls after him as he walks away to his next class. He ignores her, mind swimming with thoughts and implications of his growing friendship with Zuko.

The thoughts swirl through his mind for the rest of the day, digging into his mind and refusing to leave.

He’s not… Zuko’s just his friend .

There’s nothing more going on between them.

They hang out sure… study together when they have time. Get together for lunch if their schedules happen to line up.

Watch movers at the end of a long day…. Occasionally fall asleep on each other’s beds….

Sokka huffs, shaking his head of those thoughts. So what if they do all those things? It’s normal for friends to do that… and it’s normal for roommates to spend time together.

He has a soulmate for spirits’ sake! Zuko does too!

There’s nothing going on between them!

“Sokka?” He jumps, head whipping up from the book he’s been mindlessly staring at to find Zuko standing by the table. Zuko shifts where he’s standing, gaze concerned as he looks his friend over. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I…” Sokka frowns and shuts his book. “Actually… Do you think we could head back to the dorm? I don’t want to study in the library today.”

“Um… sure,” he replies, and patiently waits while Sokka packs up.

Neither of them speak until they’re outside the library.

“Sorry…” Sokka says, sighing. “Suki just brought something up and it’s been on my mind all day…”

“Oh…” Zuko says, fingers playing with the strap of his bag. “Do you want to talk about it?” Sokka shrugs because he honestly doesn’t know. For all the time they’ve spent together, neither of them has so much as mentioned a soulmate. Would it be too personal for him to bring up? Come to think of it… what are the Fire Nation’s customs when it comes to soulmates? From what Sokka knows, they tend to be a bit more reserved about traditions compared to the other nations.

Would he be somehow crossing a line to talk about it to Zuko?

Would Zuko even care? He’s been living in the Earth Kingdom for awhile now. Surely, he’s been privy to conversations about soulmates at this point.

“It’s about my soulmate,” Sokka blurts before he can overthink this further. Beside him, Zuko tenses. Sokka immediately regrets saying anything. “Sorry… We don’t have to talk about this if you’re not comfortable.”

“No,” Zuko says almost as quickly as Sokka had. He clears his throat. “No, I… it’s okay, if you want to talk about them. I don’t mind.” Sokka sighs, grateful that Zuko’s willing to listen but reluctant because maybe he really doesn’t want to talk about it…

“You know… I’ve spent my whole life waiting for the day I would meet my soulmate,” Sokka begins, somewhat forlorn. He gazes up at what little of the stars he can see through the light pollution. “Did you know my sister’s soulmate is the avatar?” He laughs a little. “Yeah… they had an almost instant connection. No guesswork with them.”

Sokka spares a glance at Zuko to find him listening, though there’s a tightness to his gaze.

“I was a little jealous at first, you know?” he continues. “It wasn’t until this year that I made the connection with mine… only, this campus is huge and there’s so many students here…” He frowns, troubled. “I have no idea who they even are…”

His mouth snaps shut, annoyance flaring within him. If he’s being honest, being with Zuko has been a great distraction and that makes him feel guilty. Makes him feel like he’s somehow cheating on his own soulmate.

“Sorry…” Sokka apologizes when Zuko offers up no words of wisdom. “I just… feel like I’m being ungrateful. Everyone keeps telling me to be patient, but they’ve already met their soulmates, and today… Suki, she-” He turns to Zuko, eyes wide and heart racing. Zuko watches him back, patiently waiting for him to keep speaking. Unassuming. Not judging. Just… patiently listening to his complaints.

Would Zuko even care if Sokka told him what Suki said?

“You know,” Zuko begins, thoughtfully. “My uncle used to say ‘waiting is like tea, and when you put the time into waiting, the tea will be perfect’... wait, no…” Sokka sputters, hand clamping down on his mouth as his shoulders begin to shake uncontrollably. Zuko frowns, face turning pink. His arms cross, shoulders rising as he hunches in on himself.

“It sounds better coming from my uncle…” he grumbles.

“I’m sure it does,” Sokka replies, gaining control of his laughter. He sighs, feeling an odd mix of happy and sad. The frown returns. “Suki just made me feel bad because I hadn’t brought up my soulmate lately…”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know who mine is either.”

“Actually… it does,” he says, grinning. “Are you having the dreams?”

“Um… yeah… since move-in.” Oh wow…. What a strange coincidence that is. Sokka laughs a little.

“Yeah, same,” he replies. “But I saw so many different people that day and no way of really knowing who they might be.”

“This is my first year on campus,” Zuko tells him. “So everyone in the dorms was new to me.”

“We should take bets to see who finds their first,” Sokka jokes. Zuko tenses. His face goes carefully blank, closing himself off completely. It’s such a strange transformation, the way Zuko seems to build his walls up and shut people out.

The friendly atmosphere between them freezes.

“I…” Zuko frowns, the troubled look in his golden gaze the only indication of his inner turmoil. He sighs and brushes a hand through his hair. “I don’t….” Sokka sighs.

“No…” he says. “You don’t have to explain yourself if you don’t want to.” Sokka’s honestly surprised by how much he means it. Zuko doesn’t have to tell him anything he’s not comfortable divulging. It’s not any of his business. Zuko can tell him when he’s ready if he chooses.

“I just don’t know if I’m ready to meet them yet,” he mumbles. He huffs out a wry sort of laugh and when he turns to meet Sokka’s gaze, his eyes are swimming with unshed tears. “Nobody wants a soulmate as broken as I am.”

Zuko angrily wipes at his face and picks up his pace. Sokka has to jog to catch up to him. His heart aches for his roommate. He might not know the whole story, and, really, it’s not any of his business whether he knows or not.

“Zuko, wait,” he says, grabbing onto his roommate’s shoulder. Zuko flinches, twisting out of his grasp as if he’s been burned. His hand slaps Sokka’s away. Sokka presses on, undeterred. “That’s not true!” Zuko opens his mouth to protest. “No, listen!” His mouth snaps shut, eyes wide in surprise.

“We may not know each other well,” Sokka says, determined to cheer his friend up. “But I’d hardly consider you broken. Sure… you might have a history and who doesn’t have some baggage, but you’re a nice guy. Kind. Thoughtful. Smart. You’re far more creative that any person I’ve ever known or met! Maybe you’re a little quiet, but there’s a gentleness underneath the sarcasm. Anyone would be lucky to have you for a soulmate.”

He wishes Zuko was his soulmate. Sokka blinks, feeling all his fight flee at the realization. Oh… is this what Suki meant earlier? What does that even mean for him and his soulmate?

Zuko scoffs, derailing any thoughts he might be having.

“Nobody wants to wake up to see such a hideous scar every day,” he says. His hand reaches up to brush against the marred flesh. Sokka watches the movement with a frown, wishing for the first time ever that it wouldn’t be rude to ask. He might not know what happened, but he has enough sense to know they aren’t close enough to ask about it.

“There’s nothing wrong with your face, Zuko,” Sokka tells him, looking away from his withering glare. He waves away whatever protest Zuko might have had. “No. Listen. I get that the scar is maybe a touchy subject, but you aren’t ugly, and I know your soulmate’s going to love waking up next to you every day. So… don’t count yourself so short. Don’t let that be the reason you don’t meet them.”

Zuko’s face is entirely red when Sokka dares look at him again. He can feel the heat in his own face and is thankful for his darker complexion. Zuko bites his lip and looks down the path they were walking on. At some point they both stopped, but Sokka can’t say for sure when that happened; both of them being too wrapped up in talk to notice.

“Thank you, Sokka,” he mumbles as they resume their trek back to the dorms. He glances at his friend out of the corner of his eyes. “For what it’s worth, I think anybody would be lucky to be your soulmate too.”

Yeah , Sokka thinks, grinning, I think so too.

Thursday

Sokka’s just about to hit ‘send’ on his paper when the power goes out.

The power goes out five minutes before Sokka’s supposed to submit his paper.

There’s no power on campus and Sokka can’t submit the paper he just finished minutes before the deadline.

He stares at his screen. At the wifi signal in the corner indicating there’s no connection.

There’s no connection because the power went out.

Behind him Zuko lets out a groan of anguish. It’s echoed throughout the suddenly dark dorm.

“That was my midterm ,” he says, dismayed, and Sokka cringes. It’s bad enough that he can’t submit his paper but that’s all on him. He’s the one who waited until the last minute to submit it.

“Do you want me to text my sister?” Sokka offers as the thought occurs to him. “She lives off campus so you might be able to finish it at her place.”

“I don’t know if it’ll let me back in…” Zuko mumbles, casting the room in darkness as he shuts his laptop. Sokka’s laptop is the only thing lighting their room now, the screen displaying a message of no internet connection. He frowns, glancing outside to find even the streetlights are out.

“What are we supposed to do now?” he asks, idly watching people mill about outside.

“We could make shadow puppets?” Zuko suggests, pulling a set of candles out of his desk drawer. Sokka stares at the candles wondering distantly why he has a whole drawer full of them. Also, is he being serious about the shadow puppets? Somehow, he imagines Zuko’s terrible at making shadow puppets. Then again… he is an art student. Maybe he can make something crazy with his hands.

“You just… keep a drawer full of candles, huh?” he notes instead.

“I use them for meditating.”

“Oh..” Sokka says as Zuko begins placing candles around the room. “So like… scented candles then?” It shouldn’t matter, really, what kind of candles they are or why Zuko has them. Once they’re lit he can shut his laptop down. It’s a good thing he has those candles because Sokka’s laptop has shit battery life after all these years and it won’t last much longer on its charge.

“Some of them are scented,” Zuko explains, placing the final candles in its spot. “But it’s more of a breathing exercise for firebenders.”

“Makes sense,” Sokka replies, watching as Zuko begins lighting the candles with his bare hands. He blinks, taking a moment to process what he’s seeing, and then his eyes go wide. “Wait… you’re a firebender?!” Zuko laughs a little, lighting the final candle and allowing Sokka to shut his laptop.

“I guess it just never came up,” he says, shrugging. “And it’s not like you ever asked… so….” He stands in the center of the room, watching Sokka helplessly.

“Fair point.” Sokka eyes the candle closest to him. “Can you do any cool tricks?” He’s always trying to get Katara to do something fun with her bending, like how Aang has his air scooter thing, but she always gets crabby about it. Then she lectures him about how sacred bending is and how it shouldn’t be used for childish things. Which… is funny considering she does probending….

“I know some,” Zuko says sheepishly, snapping him out of his train of thought. “But there’s not enough room here to show you.” Sokka frowns, excitement fleeing him as quickly as it came. Aang’s the only person he’s met so far capable of firebending only… he doesn’t know enough yet to show off, and Katara’s never been any help in that department either. Toph recreated a perfect replica of Ba Sing Se once, right down to the citizens, but she can only do so much with rocks.

Sokka would much prefer to see some firebending tricks. They sound far more interesting than anything he’s seen so far.

“Oh!” Zuko says, face lighting up as if he’s just had a thought. “I might know something we can do.” Sokka watches with interest as he returns to his desk. He pulls a bottle out of a drawer and asks, “Have you ever wished you could firebend?” Sokka’s immediately on board with whatever Zuko has planned.

“Yes!” In truth, he always wondered what waterbending was like. Mostly because waterbenders are far more common than firebenders in the Southern Water Tribe. He’ll take whatever he can get, though.

“Ok, so this was a really common, uh… game? Back in the Fire Nation,” Zuko explains, dragging his chair closer to Sokka. He holds up the bottle in his hand and Sokka squints at the label, trying to read it in their limited light. “It’s hand sanitizer.”

“What kind of game is this?” he asks, eyeing the bottle skeptically. What kind of games do they play in the Fire Nation that involves hand sanitizer of all things? He gingerly takes the bottle and snaps the cap off.

“I’m not really sure of all the rules. It was something more common with non-benders, but…” Zuko takes the bottle and squirts a liberal amount onto Sokka’s desk. He spreads it out evenly across the surface before lighting it on fire. Sokka sucks in a breath, eyeing the fire with alarm.

If Zuko wasn’t a firebender, he’d be concerned they were about to burn down their dorm. He’s fairly calm though for someone who just lit their roommate’s desk on fire . Zuko gestures to the flames, flaring blue from the combination of chemicals in the hand sanitizer.

“And then you just…. Swipe the flames up with your hand,” he finishes.

“ That’s your idea of fun in the Fire Nation?” Okay… Sokka knows, logically, that he agreed to whatever nonsense Zuko had in mind. He did not realize that meant possibly lighting himself on fire. Zuko visibly wilts at his statement, frowning as he puts the small fire out.

“Sorry…” he mumbles, and Sokka feels his heart break at how crestfallen he sounds.

“I’m not exactly immune to fire, Zuko,” he points out weakly.

“And you think I am ?” He’s glowering at Sokka now, golden gaze intense enough to make Sokka squirm. There’s something in those words that strike deep. A hidden meaning that has Sokka staring at the scar on his face, wondering once again what the story behind it is. He wants to ask. Wants so badly to know, but refrains because it’s rude to pry and Zuko should tell him whenever he’s ready to (if he’s ever ready to).

Zuko huffs, shifting in his seat and says, “I wouldn’t suggest something if I thought you would get hurt, you know.”

“So it’s safe then?” Zuko shrugs as if he has no idea how safe it really is. “That’s… not very encouraging…”

“Well I’ve never had a reason to do this,” Zuko comments, which… fair. “But it was really popular with non-benders growing up and I can put it out before anything bad happens.” And when Zuko puts it like that Sokka can’t see a reason not to try.

Which is precisely how Sokka ends up where he is approximately ten minutes later, nursing a nasty looking burn on the inside of his wrist. He pulls the compress away from the spot, hiss as it rubs against tender flesh. A washcloth is probably too rough for something like this but it’s all they had.

He frowns at the mark. Katara’s never going to stop lecturing him on this… especially when she finds out he got medical attention without telling her. What he wouldn’t give for her healing right about now…

Sadly, he can not and will not get her involved. The last thing he needs is her blaming Zuko for this and he’s not about to subject his roommate to her neverending grudges. Besides… Zuko’s a firebender. Surely he knows better than anyone how to treat burns.

The door clicks open and said roommate steps back into the room. Regret and guilt roll off him in waves as he steps over to Sokka to inspect the burn. He places an unlabelled bottle on the desk.

“Let this air dry for a bit,” Zuko mumbles, apology lacing his voice. He gestures to the bottle. “Then put some of that on. It’s a salve to help the burn. My uncle dropped it off for me.” Oh so that explains where he disappeared to for twenty minutes. He flashes Zuko a grin. Zuko gives him a sheepish look then turns away.

“Do I need to bandage it?” Sokka asks, trying to break the silence.

“Um…” Zuko spares the mark a glance but doesn’t meet Sokka’s eyes. “You might want to before bed so it doesn’t rub all night.”

Sokka scowls. Zuko’s making that face of his again. The one Sokka has quickly realized means he feels bad and wants to apologize but also feels guilty because he’s been apologizing for the past hour.

“Stop beating yourself up over it,” he says and Zuko flinches, finally meeting his eye. “Accidents happen, you know? It’s not your fault.”

“Can I at least like… take you out for tea or something? To make up for it?”

“If that’ll make you feel better then sure,” Sokka responds with a grin, entirely touched by the offer. Oh… right… he and his friends had plans this weekend. “Actually…” he begins, feeling somewhat bad that he nearly forgot to invite Zuko. “We were going to go to this new place off campus on Saturday if you wanted to come with? You could always treat me to tea there?” And Zuko’s looking apologetic again.

“I have work on Saturday,” he confesses. Well… that’s…. disappointing…. His disappointment must be reading on his face because Zuko quickly adds, “I’ll be around Sunday, though, if you wanted?”

“Sure,” Sokka says, grin returning to his face. Excitement courses through him at the idea of just them going out for tea. Below that, is once more guilt, over being excited about spending the day with someone not his soulmate. They’re just going as friends though. Sokka knows this…. Zuko’s not interested in him like that anyways.

Sokka shakes himself of the thought and says, “Sunday sounds nice.”

Friday

Suki notices because of course she does. She stares pointedly at the bandage carefully wrapped around his wrist and says, “What happened there?”

“Uh…” he says, heat rising to his face. He still hasn’t figured out what to tell everyone else. The truth would be a good idea but he’s not sure how the others might feel knowing it was Zuko’s idea. Then again…. Sokka did go along with it… which just makes him feel stupid. Toph will absolutely laugh her ass off over it.

He’s never been very good at lying to Suki though….

“I… burned myself last night….” he admits. Around them the dining hall’s filled with conversation. Most of it seems to be about last night’s sudden power outage. So far all his professors have extended any deadlines affected by the outage. He hopes maybe Zuko’s professor put an extension on that exam. Would suck if he failed over something out of his control…

“And what exactly were you doing that involved fire?” she asks.

“Lighting candles?”

“You were lighting candles and burned yourself bad enough you needed to bandage it.”

“Did you know Zuko was a firebender?” he asks because he can’t help it, and keeping secrets from Suki is just downright impossible. Girl can sniff out a secret like a shirshu.

“You know…” she says thoughtfully. “That would make a lot of sense…” Suki laughs a little then, eyes glinting with a sense of sudden knowledge as she teasingly says, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with fire?”

“In my defense, I was told it would be safe.” And even that sounds weak in his ears. Suki just stares at him with that sort of disappointed look he just knows Katara would be giving him if she were to find out.

“Katara’s going to kill you,” she points out.

“ Katara won’t as long as you don’t tell her.” It’s not any of her business anyways. If he wants to bond with his roommate through stupid dangerous activities then that’s his prerogative.

“Oh, I don’t have to tell her anything. She’s going to find out when you show up tomorrow for tea with that bandage on your wrist.” Sokka stares with mounting horror. He… he really hadn’t considered that last night. She’s bound to notice and when she does she’s going to ask about it.

He groans, sliding down in his seat as he pokes at his food which has long since gone cold. They’ve been so wrapped up in the conversation that neither of them have finished lunch. Well… Suki seems to be mostly done so… he’s barely eaten and a quick glance at the clock has him sucking in a breath.

“ Shit, ” he hisses, hastily throwing his bag over his shoulder and collecting everything. “I need to get to class.”

He gives her a parting wave before fleeing to dump his food and get to class on time.

He grabs some fruit on his way out.

Saturday

Katara absolutely notices the mark on the wrist when Sokka and Suki go over to her place in the morning. He left it unwrapped hoping that it would just blend into his already dark skin to absolute failure.

“He and Zuko were playing with candles the other night,” Suki gleefully tells her. She thankfully leaves out the part where he’s a firebender. He’s not sure he can handle that revelation just yet.

“ Zuko? ” Katara snaps, giving him a curious look. Toph barks out a laugh as they make their way down the road to the Jasmine Dragon.

“My roommate?” Sokka offers, frowning at the girl.

“Oh this is going to be great,” Toph cheers, refusing to reveal whatever hidden knowledge she’s keeping secret.

“Why were you playing with candles?” Katara asks, choosing to ignore Toph’s laughter. Suki won’t stop shooting the earthbender looks like she’s trying to sort through clues.

“The power went out,” he tells her. “Didn’t you hear about it?” Aang sidles up to his side, gently taking his hand and inspecting the mark. He runs a finger over it and Sokka flinches. “It’s still sensitive…”

“That’s an odd spot for lighting candles,” Aang comments. Sokka stiffens and yanks his arm away with a frown. Katara’s giving him that disappointed mom look now. He hates that look.

“Sokka-”

“Oh look,” he says loud enough to cut her off. “Is that the Jasmine Dragon?” Sure enough the building comes into view and with it, the long line of students also looking to check the place out. He wilts a little at the prospect of being subjected to Katara’s torment while they wait.

Katara, thankfully, drops the subject with the unspoken promise of revisiting it later. Sokka just hopes he can escape before she’s able to corner him.

Fortunately, the line seems to move quickly and soon they find themselves stepping up to be seated.

Several things happen then as they’re led to an open table. Katara sucks in a breath, stopping short as she looks around the shop.

“ You, ” she hisses, face twisting with contempt. Everyone stops, turning back to follow her line of sight and…

“ Zuko? ” Sokka squawks because… this is the job he disappears off to? Zuko stands by a table, eyes wide like a fox antelope caught in its tracks as he stares at Katara. “Wait…” Sokka turns to his sister. “You know him?” He can feel the pieces beginning to connect but one piece remains just out of reach. Toph’s cackling is followed by Suki’s snort of laughter as she finally connects the dots.

“Zuko!” Aang greets, bouncing over to Sokka’s statue of a roommate. His approach seems to knock Zuko out of his shock. And how does Aang know Zuko?

“Hey, genius,” Toph says, suddenly at Sokka’s side. The slap on his back is hard enough to rock him forward. “I didn’t know your roommate was a firebender!”

A strange disconnect happens in Sokka’s brain then, as the two separate people are suddenly jammed together into one entity.

Sokka becomes painfully aware that Zuko, his roommate, is also the firebending teammate of Katara and Toph.

He groans, secretly wishing Toph could just open the earth and let it swallow him whole.

Today is going to be a long day…

#A Million Dreams #zukka #fanfic #fanfic up #atla #sokka #zuko

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naturepointstheway · 4 years

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“beanies and cameras” (Life is Strange, quick fluff fic)

Some fluffy, mushy indulgence in a Life is Strange fic? Hell yes, and I’m not sorry. Let’s write this “mushy nonsense” (as Chloe would say) before I procrastinate it so far that it’s like Christmas Day before I write it ;) Inspired strongly by learning what happened to Chloe and Max in the second season of LiS (only through the playthroughs on the interwebs though, but that didn’t make me any less excited and emotional!)

Summary: It is the morning of New Year’s 2020, and for once, Chloe is up early with Max, watching the early dawn light.

Chloe has never been one to respect benches and tables, and this morning was no different as Max walks in to the kitchen, yawning, to find Chloe sitting on the bench, legs tapping against the cupboard under the bench, nursing a steaming mug of coffee in her hands. Max has seen Chloe framed in golden hour’s light many, many times, and it still takes her breath away to see how the fragile winter sunlight catches in her blonde hair and softens the outline of her face.

“Did you make coffee for me, at least?” Max asks as she walks into the kitchen to give Chloe a morning kiss.

“The kettle’s just boiled, help yourself.” Chloe jerks her head at the kettle next to her, putting down her mug, bending to wrap her arms around Max’s shoulders. “Happy New Year, Max. A new decade, a new us, right?”

Max always marvelled at how warm Chloe was when she held her close, no matter how cold it was outside or inside.

“Happy New Year back at ya,” Max murmurs, closing her eyes to sink into Chloe’s embrace. “Hope you’re ready to get mushy. I dare you to out-mush me.”

Chloe pulls back, arms still draped over Max’s shoulders, grinning down at her in the morning light. “If you make that a double dare, I’ll take it.”

Max laughs gently, pressing up against the bench, arms still wrapped around her girlfriend’s waist, Chloe’s legs resting against her sides. “I double dare you to out-mush me, and no take-backs.”

Chloe pulls a face, but her eyes sparkle even as she pretends to shudder. “Ugh. Okay, dare taken.”

“I can see some things never change though,” Max nods at the bench Chloe’s sitting on, “Like your total disregard for surfaces people prepare and eat food from. Dude, you’re like twenty-five, not fourteen anymore! Shouldn’t you be--”

"Nope, I’m not gonna stop till I turn thirty.”

Max rolls her eyes, but she can’t stop the smile in her eyes as she reaches up to tuck a strand of Chloe’s hair behind her ear, fingers lingering in soft blonde strands. She lets her hand rest briefly against the side of Chloe’s face.

“At least you’ve stopped saying hella every other sentence.”

“Excuse me, I was a teenager, give my limited teen-self’s vocab a break. I kinda miss your wowsers though.”

“So cringe-worthy, don’t remind me of that, Chloe.”

“Didn’t make it any less adorable.”

“And you’re still wearing that same beanie since you were nineteen.”

“Sixteen, actually,” Chloe corrects her, “And it’s still doing its job now, why would I throw it away if it still works?”

“Hey, you look adorable with that beanie, not knocking it.”

“You better not, Max. And you still have your old camera bag.”

Max grins. “Hey, it still works, right, like the camera itself?”

“I swear, that camera is immortal. I don’t even remember how long my dad had it for. Probably even before either of us were born.”

“Still works like a charm. Film’s getting more expensive though. Maybe I should try my hand at digital for once. At least I can see if a shot is shit or not, all without wasting precious film.”

Chloe’s fingers idly scratched Max’s shoulders, the latter feeling little goosebumps rise on her arms at the pleasant touch.

“Hey, I’m sure we can find something sweet somewhere, you’re the camera whisperer after all.”

“Not as many selfies, either. Maybe I just don’t feel such a need anymore, now that I have you with me.”

“Hey, we still take selfies!”

“At least you’re in them now--they don’t feel as lonely anymore. And you know me--Max Caulfield never misses an opportunity to take a picture with Chloe Price. Ever.”

“And you better not forget it,” Chloe comments, Max stepping back as she finally gets off the bench. “Ever.”

“We’re always going to be together, right?”

“Duh, Supermax, of course we are. We’re always Max and Chloe, remember?” Chloe reaches over to her coffee, cupping it in her hands as she takes another drink. “Except for when...you know...”

Max winces, looks down at her feet, knowing she shouldn’t still feel guilty about the five years of radio silence, but still...

“I’m--”

“Nope. Stop feeling guilty, already, Max, that’s all in the past, right? 2020 is the decade of leaving that guilt behind. We’re gonna more than make up for it, not we already haven’t.”

“How’d you know--”

“Because no matter what, even at twenty-four, you’ve still got a bit of that old Max from before you left for Seattle. Though I’m glad you got rid of that ponytail.”

Max can’t help a laugh, a hand reaching up to her short hair, tucking some of it behind her ears. “Yeah, that ponytail was gone like six weeks into Seattle, believe me.”

“Poor Seattle still had to endure six weeks of your ponytail. That’s just horrific, Max, how could you.”

“Oh shut up,” Max grumbles playfully, now moving to a cupboard to take out a cup, grabbing the kettle to prep some coffee for herself. “You still look amazing with long hair, not that you didn’t with your hairstyle back when you were nineteen.”

“Yeah, I prefer long hair anyway.” Chloe shrugs, takes a long, final swig from her cup. “That hairstyle has too many bad memories attached anyway, so...”

Max breaks away for a moment from her coffee-making to take one of Chloe’s hands, interlacing their fingers, squeezing tight.

“I don’t know if I can get too mushy about the last ten years, Max. I mean...”

“I liked Seattle, but to be honest, I never felt completely whole without you, if that makes sense? It sounds so cliche, but...”

“Nah, not at all. Rachel filled that gap for a while, but...” Chloe takes Max’s other hand in hers. “Only when we reunited did I really feel whole again. I really missed you, Max, you have no fucking idea. And seeing your beautiful freckled face again alone literally healed half my soul again. I felt like a total kid again just seeing your gorgeous...Maxiness.”

Max gives Chloe a playful nudge. “Ah, we’re already getting mushy. Mushy Chloe is best Chloe.”

“That’s because you’re a goop.”

“Go on, Chloe, admit you like being a goop.”

“Never.”

“I double dare you to admit it.”

Chloe lets go of Max’s hands, folds her arms with a defiant shake of her head. “Not that easy.”

“Double dog dare you.’

“Hell no.”

“By the time this decade’s out, you’ll be ready to admit you like being all mushy and goopy. Calling it now.”

Chloe raises an eyebrow, seeming to grow taller as she looks down at Max with her piercing blue eyes.

“By the time this decade’s out, I’ll still deny I like getting mushy with you.” Chloe unfolds her arms, reaches out to tuck Max’s hair behind her ears, letting her hands drift from cupping Max’s face to resting on either side of her neck, palms warm against Max’s skin.

“We’ll have to see then, won’t we?” Max comments, hands now resting again on Chloe’s hips, closing her eyes as she leans up for a tender, lingering morning kiss, a small smile on her lips as Chloe’s kisses wander from her lips to trace down the curve of her neck. She feels Chloe’s lips still at the base of her neck, breath tickling Max’s skin, sending little shivers of pleasure through her.

“Any plans for the decade ahead?” Max whispers, eyes still closed as she presses herself up against Chloe, feeling how warm she is even in the chilly winter morning. “Maybe I’ll be a world-reknown photographer.”

“You mean you will be,” Chloe murmurs, hands moving to hold Max even closer. “Stop being so goddamn humble, I keep telling ya.”

“I know, I know.”

“Maybe I’ll be ready to go back and find a university to finally get a degree.”

“Science degree?” Max murmurs as she leans her head on Chloe’s shoulder, not daring to open her eyes, wanting to stay in this moment forever.

“Duh, Max, of course it’ll be a science. Maybe I’ll learn to love chemistry again.”

“Ugh. The only chemistry I like is ours.”

“Hey, even girlfriend chemistry involves chemistry. It’s just...biochemistry...chemistry.”

“Still not converted, sorry,” Max smiles into Chloe’s shoulder, gives her a quick little kiss through the cloth of her pyjamas. “Love you anyway.”

“We’re gonna kick ass and take down names this decade, Max, and no one’s gonna stop us, come high hell or heaven.”

“Damn right you are.”

We’ll always be together, and I’m always going to be okay with that. We’ll always be Max and Chloe. Forever.

#Life is Strange #quick little fanfic #Max Caulfield #Chloe Price #Pricefield

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iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid · 4 years

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Fic Rec List (A Tag Game!)

Rules: Post links (Ao3, ff.net, etc.); specify fandom/pairing/etc; don’t answer the same fic twice - spread the appreciation; tag other people; you don’t have to answer all the questions, but leave them in the list so the next person can answer if they want.

i was tagged by @aninfinitenumberofmonkeys, who is also listed below because they’re a banging author and i love love love their work. ALSO i tried to tag the author’s tumblr where i could find it, but if i forgot or i totally fucked up and tagged you for a fic you didn’t write please let me know 😅

Fandoms mentioned are MCU, Stephen King’s It, The Umbrella Academy, Shazam!, Welcome to Night Vale

1. Favourite complete fic you’ve read this month (multiple chapters/parts): and i will not remember that i ever felt the pain by Fluffifullness @fluffifullness (It) -- it’s about the longing! it’s about grief and love and how they’re connected! it’s about the angst! but most importantly it’s about eddie 👏 getting 👏 all 👏 the 👏 hugs 👏👏👏

2. Favourite complete fic you’ve read this month (one-shot): we'll laugh and we'll cry until there's no more tears by knewwellenough @transfinnpoe (It) -- what’s better than this? coupla guys bein’ dudes, coupla dudes cryin’ and huggin’, coupla guys bein’ gay. ugh god i’m still weeping over this reunion hug, like, yeah there’s smut eventually but guys the hUG--

3. Favourite WIP you’ve read this month: hold on i still need you by QueenWithABeeThrone (It) because @viciousmaukeries is both a master of the written word and a genie specializing in granting my very specific fic wishes before i’ve even thought to wish them, so please, go read this tam lin au i’m still losing my whole mind over it

4. One fic/series you’ve read which you keep coming back to again and again: hoping to be found by eddiespaghetti (foxwatson) @eddykaspbraks (It) -- *blows a kiss in the general direction of NYC* for eddie kaspbrak getting the healing he deserves

5. Most underrated fic you’ve read this year: did you know there’s no option to sort your bookmarks by kudos wtf anyway let’s go with some by virtue fall by StarryCleric (Umbrella Academy) because WHY are all my favorite five character studies so criminally underappreciated

6. Most underrated fic you’ve read EVER: trade all my tomorrows by tombenough_and_continent (Umbrella Academy) because again, why are all my favorite five character studies so underappreciated, wtf where’s the LOVE for my sad traumatized old man assassin, huh??? where???

7. Favourite whump/angst fic of the year: Next time, hire a nanny by TheArchaeologist @ancientstone (Umbrella Academy) i am counting this as whump/angst because my dude gets real hurt in this, but tbh it’s the ACTION i love this fic for, just nonstop heart pumping adrenaline and worry for my favorite time traveling (retired) assassin and his adorable little niece, and some amazingly soft hurt/comfort at the end

8. Favourite hurt/comfort fic of the year: If Either Way's The Hard Road by altschmerzes @altschmerzes (Shazam!) -- brothers being soft! my soft spot for kids played by jack dylan grazer strikes again! ahhh! good shit!

9. Favourite fluff fic of the year: Everybody Comes A-Running by Infinite_Monkeys @aninfinitenumberofmonkeys (MCU, GotG) -- listen, i KNOW i’m biased! i know! but this is still SO SO GOOD. the image of loki falling asleep while the guardians doodle on his leg cast is a gift i never knew i needed and it’s fantastic

11. Favourite smut fic of the year: Things That Happens After Eddie Lives (It) by IfItHollers @tthael is not, strictly speaking, a “smut fic,” it’s a fix-it that just happens to have some E-rated scenes, and it would have fit fine in #4′s slot because i’ve reread the whole thing so many times, but listen, this fic’s sex scenes are like the only sex scenes i’ve ever read and liked. talk about keeping in character, man! top fucking notch! plus there’s a line in there like “eddie knows exactly what oxygen does to fire but he breathes in anyway” while richie’s going down on him and, really, that line alone gives it this position on the list SO

10. Favourite gen fic of the year: the only soul I've ever saved by valkyrisms @valkyrisms (MCU, Thor, Spider-man) -- i just had the absolute pleasure of rereading this because it’s been months and i forgot so much of it, GOD if there’s a perfect way to write the unlikely friendship of loki and peter parker, it is unequivocally this

12. Favourite fix-it fic of the year/ever: An Eye For An Eye by dgalerab @dgalerab (Umbrella Academy) because it is no secret at all that this is my favorite fic, and series, bar none. season 2 will not live up to this, i’ve already accepted it, i’m alright with it, because i can always come back and read this after, y’know?

13. Favourite crack-fic fic of the year:

14. Favourite sick-fic this year:

15. Favourite kid-fic this year: kith and kin by penhaligon @arthurpenhaligons (Umbrella Academy) i know i’ve flailed over this on tumblr before but, guys, c’mon, UNCLE FIVE. what else do i need to say? i still cry every time i reach five saying “i don’t want to do this anymore” even though i’ve reread this several times, i just....... five ;_;

15. Fic this year which you didn’t expect to love as much as you do: Mostly Void, Partially Stars by Infinite_Monkeys @aninfinitenumberofmonkeys (MCU, Thor, Welcome to Night Vale) because who writes an mcu night vale crossover and makes it work? oh my god how, this was so good, it’s a mark of superb writing when i actually bark laugh while reading it, like, what a concept, what execution, what a fic, take all my kudos just take em

16. Fic which convinced you to ship a pairing:

17. Favourite AU you’ve read this year: Who You Gonna Call..? by lesbuchanan @lesbuchanan (Umbrella Academy) -- why is river consistently the most galaxy brained person on this site? i have no words but *chef’s kiss*

18. Longest fic/series you’ve read this year: Keep the Car Running (MCU, GotG) starmora! woo! literally 300k+ of starmora and i did not regret a single second of the entire week it took me to read it

19. The last fic you’ve read: all good things by Fluffifullness @fluffifullness (It) -- pleASE someone for the love of god go read this fic and come scream about it with me, it’s just. so good. so so good. the losers defeat pennywise but don’t manage to prevent all those eggs from hatching, resulting in an apocalypse au that so far is MINDBLOWINGLY good and i’m dying over here just thinking about it

20. Wildcard fic you haven’t mentioned but deserves a shout-out + why: In Our Bones by scullyseviltwin @scullyseviltwin (It) because it made me CRY and then it made me cry AGAIN and i LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT

EDIT I WAS SUPPOSED TO TAG PEOPLE AKJHSKJFHAKJFH WHOOPS uhhh okay how bout if i tagged you as an author consider yourself tagged? yeah let’s go with that, but like, no pressure you know the drill just do it if you feel like it or if you’re like me and you’re using this as an excuse to procrastinate other things

EDIT #2 also just like. do this. if you feel like it, regardless of whether you’re tagged or not, just like........ pretend i tagged you aiight

#huh i actually managed to do most of them #i did this over the course of like three days lmao #tag game #long post #fic recs #oh and i don't think the game actually necessitates commentary i'm just like this

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voltedyoongi · 4 years

Text

lee minho- neighbour au

(listen i’m imagining the apartments from big bang theory coz i’m binging it rn so if you dk what that looks like get on google)

-so you’d been looking for a place to live for a while now since your best friend had announced she was going to move in with her boyfriend leaving you high and dry

-after a month of searching, you’d finally found the perfect place and today was moving day

-said best friend was currently on holiday with said boyfriend and you didn’t want any of your other friends getting too close to all your stuff so you were all on your on

-you couldn’t afford a moving truck so you were spending the day driving as many boxes as you can fit into your car to the new apartment taking them up the stairs one by one before going back to your old apartment to repeat the process

-you had reached the third box moving escapade of the day when you bumped box first (literally) into a group of guys as you went up the stairs

-‘oh, shit sorry’ you apologise, ‘didn’t see you over the box’ you laugh lightly.

-‘it’s okay’ one of the two guys says, ‘where are you going to? can we help you?’

-‘4B, and it’s fine really if i put my back out i’ll have an excuse to lie in bed all day’

-the two boys smile at your comment, nodding, ‘well we’re across the hall if you need us’ the second one says, ‘just knock if you need any help, those boxes seem heavy. i’m ‪jisung by the way, and this is jeongin’

-you smile gratefully, secretly relieved you wouldn’t have to lug boxes all day if you really didn’t want to.

-and that’s what it came to, you were tired and moody when you packed the last round of boxes into your car and got to your new apartment block. you grumpily hauled a box of pillows up the stairs to your apartment before glancing at 4A nervously, where jisung had said he and jeongin would be.

-it wasn’t that you found them particularly intimidating, they’d seemed lovely, it was more the notion of interrupting the evening of people you barely knew to ask them for strenuous help.

-alas, you really couldn’t be fucked to drag up the remaining five boxes, one of which was filled with books.

-so you reluctantly skulked across the hall and prepared yourself to have to socialise.

-you knock on the door, your nerves on fire, only nulled by the fact you were constantly reminding yourself jeongin and jisung seemed like really sweet guys who wouldn’t make a fuss of carrying some boxes.

-the door swings open and you internally freeze.

-a handsome man had answered with cute dark hair and a loose white t-shirt.

-‘shit shit shit’ you think, had you gotten the wrong apartment? were you about to completely embarrass yourself searching for two random men who didn’t even live here? no, surely not...they had said they lived across the hall from you...

-he looks at you expectantly and you kick into action

-‘erm sorry i’m looking for jisung and jeongin, they said they’d help me move some boxes upstairs from my car and to come across the hall...’

-‘oooh’ he chuckles, ‘sorry they’re not in right now, jisung doesn’t even live here’ he scoffs.

-‘oh sorry’ you mumble, ready to trudge down to your car and break your body with the last of those boxes

-but before you can turn he’s marching out his apartment to the stairs, he stops short of the third step and looks at you expectantly.

-‘you coming?’ he asks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world

-‘where are you going?’ you answer cluelessly, it not quite clicking in your head

-‘downstairs to your car, that’s where the boxes are right? unless you’ve parked on the roof.’

-‘ye right’ you retort, matching his tone dripped in sarcasm ‘i can park my flying car on the roof but i can’t carry five boxes.’

-he grins at you, before walking down the stairs prompting you to follow in his wake

-you don’t get a chance to interact with him on the way down as he’s marched ahead so the next conversation you share is once you reach the pavement outside your block.

-‘which one’s yours?’ he asks, eyeing the cars around.

-you point to your small red car across the street and he grins

-‘why are you smiling?’ you tease him defensively, he shrugs still looking at your car ‘it’s cute, but i don’t think you could fly to the roof with it.’

-‘nah not quite,’ you grin back ‘maybe just the fifth floor’

-‘i admire your ambition’ he plays along, but before you can reply he’s halfway across the road to your car and you’re trudging after him.

-you press the button on your keys and unlock the boot to reveal the boxes.

-‘here we are’ you sigh ‘if you could help me on two trips, we can both take two up and then i’ll run down and grab the last, that would be great.’

-he nods, looking down at the boxes before taking the heaviest one, the one filled with all your books.

-but he doesn’t seem phased at all by it’s weight when it’s in his arms, he’s either very strong or very good at pretending not to be in pain at the hands of your literary collection

-you grab another, lighter, box and put it on the ground to close the boot. you pick it up and then to see that minho stayed and watched you do so rather than striding ahead again.

-‘not so fast this time?’ you ask, as you two walk across the road back to your building.

-he shrugs, but you don’t miss the way he flinches slightly at the weight. ‘didn’t want you left behind unable to carry your stuff’

-‘hey!’ you exclaim playfully, ‘i’m not that weak’

-‘alright sure, you’re strong as the hulk, just stop pouting’

-‘i never pout’ you pout- prompting him to scoff, but smile.

-you’ve made it to your building's entrance now, meaning you’ll have to conquer the stairs next. there’s not enough room for you to walk side by side with the boxes, so you opt to go in front of him.

-‘don’t you want you falling on me when you collapse under the weight of the box’

-he doesn’t answer so you turn around to look at him as you walk up, he looks back up at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

-you gasp jokingly, ‘did you just check my ass out?’

-he sees red, and looks down at the box in his arms, ‘no’ he mumbles, but you can the tips of ears are tomato coloured

-‘you totally checked out my ass’ you grin, stopping walking to make him look at you

-‘so what if i did?’ he says in a tone yk he wants you to take as a sarcastic quip, ‘take it as a compliment and keep walking’

-you do as he says, changing the subject but grinning from ear to ear.

-you put the boxes in your apartment and then go back down, friendly banter bouncing between the two of you the entire time, he even goes down alone to get the last box to let you start unpacking earlier.

-you’ve opened up your box of books when minho brings your box in, he places it on the floor before coming over to you and the box of books

-‘let’s see what was so worth me almost breaking my arms to get up here’

-you chuckle and let him lean forward to inspect your collection, ‘hmm...’ he muses ‘i approve.’

-your first instinct is to make a sarcastic comment but instead you hold back

-‘thanks’ you smile

-‘that’s okay’ he smiles back ‘i need to go set up i have some friends coming over, but i’ll catch up with you soon yeah?’

-‘yeah...thanks for all your help minho’

-‘that’s okay y/n’

-surprisingly you were doing a very good job unpacking, normally you'd procrastinate doing anything till you absolutely had to or until you died...whichever came first

-but today you were oddly eager to see how your new apartment would look all finished, and it was going well

- a pile of empty cardboard boxes had cultivated on your floor so you decided now was a good time to take them downstairs to the bins.

-you were on your way down the stairs when you bumped into none other than jisung and jeongin

-’hey!’ they grinned at you, prompting you to grin back, in a good mood having unpacked so well

-’i see you managed to unpack’ commented jisung, nodding towards the collapsed boxes in your clutches

-’yep’ you smile, and im almost all done unpacking my stuff too, i’ve done well’

-’maybe you deserve a treat?’ jeongin says playfully, to which you raise your eyebrows

-’i like treats’ you reply, pushing him to tell you what he had in mind

-’we’re having a little get together in our apartment right now, once you've gotten rid of those old boxes you should join us’

-you ponder the idea before eventually nodding, ‘that would actually be really nice...i’ll be right up’

-you ran across to your apartment to change into something a bit more appropriate, a tank top and shorts weren't going to quite cut it today

-you slid on some comfy yet sleek jeans with a white crop top that highlighted you figure oh-so-casually

-you brushed your hair quickly and then made your way across the hall for the second time in a day

-you knocked but before you could pull your hand away the door had swung open and you were met with an overjoyed jisung

-he grabs you by the arm and pulls you in shouting happily about your arrival, had he somehow managed to get drunk in the short time it took for you to change?

-he wraps his arm around your shoulder, a beer in his hand

-’guys meet y/n! y/n meet the guys’

-you glance around nervously, there were 8 other guys including jeongin and minho and a few had girls sitting on their laps who you assumed were there girlfriends

-there was a chorus of ‘heys and his’ in response to your introduction but you couldn’t help but notice that minho hadn’t said anything, instead sifting through the takeout container on his lap

-jisung’s breath stunk of beer as he howled out at the silent boy ‘minhooooOoooo say hello to my new frienddd’

-you stand there awkwardly before minho looks up smirking ‘oh, we've already met.’

-’you guys know each other?!’ questions jeongin, to which you nod

-minho pats the arm of the big armchair he was sitting on, still smirking at you, ‘come sit with me y/n, everyone else here is a little bit drunk’ he playfully whispers loudly, nodding towards jisung.

-you smile back at him, the banterous connection you guys had shared earlier rising to the surface. you awkwardly perch on the arm of his chair and he begins to quietly tell you everyone’s names so you don't feel too lost.

-as the night continued the boys and girls around you got more and more drunk, leaving only you and minho as the sober ones. normally you'd be drinking alongside with them but you felt weird getting drunk with people you barely knew, and it didn't really matter minho was there to be sober with you.

-the two of you stayed perched on the armchair together, chatting between yourselves happily and pretty much ignoring everyone else

-at one point one of the boys had knocked into you sending you toppling onto minho’s lap,

-’changbin!’ he hissed at the raven-haired giggly boy who was tripping and giggling away from you two already

-’sorry’ minho apologised, rolling his eyes but moving up on the chair so that you didn't have to get off. instead you had your bum on the cushion of the chair with your legs over his lap, and the conversation continued.

-eventually, the party died down, the guys with girlfriends were stumbling around with their mouths attached to each other most definitely pursuing something further

-’well’ you sighed, rising from minho’s lap ‘i’m gonna go back before babies start to be conceived.’

-he stands up with you, smiling at your comment. ‘not a bad plan, i’ll walk you to my door’

-you make your way through the pairs of people either making out or having ‘single person banter’

-’well’ you finish as you get to minho’s front door ‘it was very nice being the only sober one with you’

-’ditto’ he grins back, nodding along.

-’bye...’ you say happily, before walking across the hall to your apartment

-you were alone in your apartment for approximately half an hour before there was another knock

-you trudge tiredly to open the door but wake up as soon as you see who it is

-’minho? what’s up?’

-he stands there nonchalantly, but there’s hints of nervousness in hs demeanour

-’erm...’ he smiles half heartedly ‘you know how you said people in there were gonna be making babies? well they’ve kind of already started in my room...think i could crash on your couch for tonight?’

-’hmmm’ you muse playfully to which he grins and rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue into the side of his cheek to convey his annoyance. ‘of course you can’ you laugh opening the door and nodding him in ‘but only because you carried my books upstairs’

-’ah of course’ he plays along, walking inside ‘we’re even now’

-’well...i don't know, i think you still owe me one really’ you cheek, closing the door behind him.

-‘oh yeah?’ he quips

-’yeah.’ you reply defiantly

-and then he’s kissing you.

-he’s clearly had something to drink since you left because you can taste the alcohol on his lips, but something tells you this isn't some tipsy fluke

-when you pull away he grins, nuzzling his nose against yours. ‘now we’re even’ he chuckles.

-he give you another quick peck before pulling away and walking to the door

-’wha- where are you going?’

-’oh, i lied about my bedroom i don't need the couch. i’ll see you tomorrow y/n’ he smirks before leaving

-and with that he was gone and you were alone with your thoughts and the taste of alcohol from his lips on yours.

it was getting a bit longgg but i can write a part two if y’all want lmao just tell me

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