#i am actually feeling a bit helpless in the big writing world LOL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

outofsstyles · 3 years

Text

a/n: This is by far THE MOST requested fic I’ve ever had and (a year later) it’s finally here!! First of all, sorry that it took me so long but when I first wrote Wildest Dreams I never intended on it having a follow up, but the amount of love I got from it was so overwhelming that I decided to put this together for you all :) I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit nervous about it, considering the amount of requests I’ve had the past year, I know there’s gonna be a lot of expectations and I wanted to do something a bit different so it’s not too predictable lol. So yeah, as always, feedback is very much welcomed!! If you enjoy please reblog it to support my writing, it would mean the world to me <3

word count: 13.7k

warnings: none!

concept: It’s Evan’s birthday and he decides to do something a bit different.

Wildest Dreams: read part 1 here :)

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

In the last two steps, you have to use your leg to support the box as it starts to slowly slip down your fingers. This serves as a reminder to start exercising again now that the midterm is over — meaning that you should finally give in to Nia’s pleas to join her in the free week of Pilates classes she got when signing in at the gym, “Exercising is one of the best ways to relieve stress!” She would argue, to which you’d simply reply with something along the lines of: “So does binging another trashy reality tv show!”

Thankfully, no one seems to notice your struggle, sparing you the embarrassment of listening to their teases due to your difficulty in carrying one of the smallest boxes of the bunch. Nate barely glances at you once you finally reach the car to hand him the box, only shooting the longest smile you’ve ever seen coming from him—which somehow still manages to be probably the quickest when compared to any other regular person. His girlfriend, who stands with hands on her hips, entirely held his attention. Nia’s purple strands of hair poke out of her half-bun in every direction and her bottom lip has found its permanent spot between her teeth as her eyes fixate on the vehicle in front of her, barely blinking.

“Everything alright, Ni?” You prompt, trying to even your breathing. “Forgot something? There’s still time to check.”

“It’s not that.” She mumbles, shaking her head to break out of her thoughts. “My keyboard doesn’t fit.” Nia nods at the instrument lying on top of the car’s ceiling.

“Oh,” You say, frowning your lips as you take in her stressed figure. Clearing your throat, you attempt to blurt out a joke, “Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t move it and stay right here in our little flat with creaky doors.”

She breathes out a sharp laugh, finally looking at you as she drops her arms. “Don’t start.” She warns, “You promised; no crying today.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good at holding back the tears.” You give her a soft smile, pulling her smaller frame into a hug. The sudden reality of your best friend and roommate leaving you hitting you at once. “Gonna miss you, Ni.”

You feel her sigh into your shoulder, arms circling around your middle. “I’ll be ten minutes away.”

“Not the same.”

“I know.”

The two of you sway in silence for a moment, and you watch from over her shoulder as Nate attempts to awkwardly pick up the keyboard, almost dropping it on the sidewalk in the process. He grunts, the instrument tilting in his arms, and you giggle as you hear Nia sigh once more. Tightening your arms around her, you release each other as she turns to check on her boyfriend who holds the instrument as you would a newborn — except this one is half his size and hard as a wood plank.

He glances between the both of you, helpless. “Uh, where does this go?”

“You can put it with the other big boxes upstairs, babe. We’ll take them Sunday.” Nia says, moving to close the trunk. She looks back at him, calling back in a sing-like voice before he disappears inside, “Thank you!”

You lean back against the car, a playful pout plumping your bottom lip. “Am I only seeing you again on Sunday, then?”

“Nope, I’ll pick you up for Evan’s birthday — did you forget about it already?”

You have. “Of course not. It’s on — tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow?” Nia gasps, eyes widening. “Holy shit, tomorrow’s Friday.”

You nod slowly, just as shocked as she is about how quickly the past couple of weeks have flown by. Between piles of book reports and stress-tear-stained essays during midterms week, you also had to find some time to help Nia with packing boxes while searching for a new roommate for yourself. If you managed a five-hour sleep on these past days, that would have been a well-rested night. So you can’t really blame yourself for forgetting about Evan’s birthday when Nia herself had it slipping through her mind.

“This is an emergency,” Nia says, eyes focusing on a point beyond you and, you feel like, if you listen close enough, you can hear the engines inside her head working. “I’ll have come here earlier so you can help me with my outfit.”

You chuckle. “What even is the theme this year?”

“He didn’t tell me,” Nia says in a huff. “But, on the bright side, I don’t think this year he’ll do anything too crazy — he was too busy these last couple months with that short film I told you about, remember?”

“Evan doing something low key? That’s a first.” You raise your eyebrows, skeptical.

“I mean, I don’t know. I’m just guessing.” Nia shrugs, picking at her nails. “I’m only saying because he mentioned once he was only inviting, like, twenty people.”

Now, this is a surprise. “I’m glad I made the cut, then.”

It’s not a secret to anyone who’s ever had any kind of interaction with Evan that he’s fond of the dramatics of life — his bright-colored outfits with mismatching patterns being the first example that comes to mind — and that reflects as well in his events. Especially when it comes to his birthday.

To be fair, you’ve only actually been to two birthday parties of his so far — considering the invitation usually finds you because he’s close to Nia and sees you as some sort of extension of her. Nevertheless, they were both impactful enough that left a clear impression of how much he enjoys celebrating himself. Last year in particular you remember quite well. It was what he called “Evaney” themed; being a mix of himself and his favorite artist: Britney Spears. And, while you and Nia showed up as one of at least fifteen different variations of the Baby One More Time schoolgirl outfit, Evan pulled a perfect match of the Oops! I Did It Again red bodysuit that he got one of his fashion student friends to tailor for him, as well as freshly dyed beach blonde hair to suit it. He even went as far as photoshopping pictures of himself on Britney’s body and had them printed on posters hung on every single room of the house. There were even custom-made cups and napkins with them — two of them that Nia stole at the end of the party still sit somewhere in your kitchen to this day.

Another particular thing you remember quite clearly was that there were enough people crowded in his living room to fill up your entire apartment, as you recall. And that’s about how a typical event at his home is like — even on his friendsmas dinner there were much more than just twenty people eating turkey out of disposable hot pink plates. So, Nia’s information leaves you wondering what he could have in mind for tomorrow with such a limited list of people.

Before you can voice your wonders to her, though, Nate pushes through the entrance door again. You can tell he, much like you minutes ago, is trying to cover his heavy breathing. “I left it on top of those big boxes with a bunch of books in ‘em.”

“Brilliant! Thank you, baby.” Nia grins, wrapping an arm around his middle. “By the way, we just remembered Evan’s birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow already?” Nate asks, and you hold back a giggle at the way his face scrunches in discontent. He hates going to Evan’s to a point that’s nearly comical. “Fuck’s sake.”

“And I think I’ll come here early so we can get ready together.” Nia nods towards you.

Nate grunts. “Do I have to go this time?”

“Of course, darling.” She rises to her tiptoes to pinch his cheek, to which he brushes it off.

Nate looks at you, and you only send him a tight smile in solidarity. The two of you share similar experiences with Evan, considering the only reason either of you even gets invited is that because you’re close to Nia, and she’s close to Evan. Although you like Evan, even if you’re not that close with him, you can still put on your social mask for a couple of hours and have fun at his parties. Nate, on the other hand, is likely the least sociable person you’ve ever met, and it’s obvious how uncomfortable he gets every time.

Nia seems to sense how tense he gets as well, because she steps in front of her boyfriend, finding his eyes with her doe-like ones. “I mean, if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to.”

He sighs, “Of course I’ll go with you.” He looks up at you. “Maybe this time we can actually count how many faces of his we can see from the couch.”

This time you don’t hold back a giggle. “I have a feeling we’ll have an easier time this year.”

“Hope so.” Nate taps on Nia’s back. "Let's go, then? Is everything you need in the trunk?”

“Yup.” She answers, circling the car and opening the door to the passenger’s side. Before entering, she gives you one last look. “Do you want me to bring anything for you tomorrow?”

“I’m good.”

“‘kay!” She enters, closing the door behind her in a click and leaning over Nate to wave at you from his window. “See you tomorrow! Don’t cry too hard tonight!”

“I won’t!” You wave back.

Watching as the car pulls back, before driving away and disappearing around the corner, there’s a light breeze that raises goosebumps on the exposed skin of your arms. You cross them under your chest, leaning back into the wall of your building, not quite ready to go back to your empty home yet. The seconds blend into minutes and you stand there The promise you made to Nia not even a minute ago already pooling in your eye, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep it anyway, you let it tickle its way down your cheek.

A rougher gust of wind hits you and, this time, you turn to go inside.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The days are still not long enough so that the sun can shine proudly at seven in the afternoon, but as spring just about rounds the corner there’s still a golden glow as the rays provide one last warmth before disappearing on the horizon. And that’s how the sky greets you once you step out of your building to make your way towards Evan’s house for his birthday.

As planned, Nia arrived at yours with plenty of time so the two of you could help each other get ready, a bag filled with clothes she’s just taken to Nate’s yesterday under her arm for you to help her choose. “I’m thinking something monochromatic tonight.” She said as she walked in, making you jump in your spot on the couch as you didn’t hear her using the spare key. “I’m just not sure what color.”

She ended up choosing red. There was an old box of red hair dye you found lost inside the bathroom cabinet after Nia left — along with two different brands of shaving cream, although those belonging to Nate — and, after presenting it to her, she decided to go all for it, taking it as a sign. Nate showed up just about an hour after his girlfriend, still in his work attire and barely batting an eye at Nia’s new hair color as she blew dried it. The only comment leaving his mouth being, “You look like a tomato,” before kissing her forehead and excusing himself for a nap while the two of you finished getting ready.

What neither of you realized was that Nia’s last-minute decision took more time than you predicted, giving you barely enough time to get dressed. To her, that wasn’t exactly an inconvenience considering she had an outfit ready to match any color she wanted — in this case, was a red-dyed denim two-piece. and a matching jacket that ended up discarded after she noticed it covered her newest shoulder tattoo (though you tried to argue she could just have Nate carry it so she could wear it considering she eventually would get cold at some point). To you, however, was more of a stressful task, seeing you hadn’t taken in mind to think of an outfit beforehand. So you ended up just going with the safest option that didn’t give you a lot of room to overthink, choosing to finish your makeup on the way so Evan wouldn’t have any of your heads on a plate for being late.

You’ve found that applying mascara on a moving vehicle is not the easiest task, as Nia holds your elbow to help you keep steady while talking nonstop with the driver about a topic you stopped paying any mind to about ten minutes ago.

“I’m loving our black and red moment, by the way.” She turns to you, loosening her hold as you finish the last coat. “You look like one of those hot businesswomen with your teenage daughter who likes to dress like an animated character.”

You laugh at her comparison, only now noticing the discrepancy between both your outfits. Without even realizing it, you also ended up going for the monochromatic look. Except unlike Nia’s, yours completely lacks any color. “That’s actually the best comparison you could make.”

“I know — You can take a left right here — Here, I have lip gloss.” Nia fetches a small tube from her jacket (that she ended up taking, after all), presenting it to you.

“Do you not have lipstick?”

“Are you not planning on smudging it later?” Nia wiggles her eyebrows, teasing. The hint behind her words makes you roll your eyes, snatching the lip gloss from her hand without bothering to give her an answer. There was about a month or so, just before winter rolled around, that Nia felt as if she had a mission to get you with someone. You suspect, knowing too well how her mind works, that she must’ve felt some sort of guilt for what happened during her film project last year. It was clear that her attempts came from a place of good heart, but this doesn’t mean that it made them any less annoying. However, after her plans to move in with Nate became more concrete, her cupid persona seemed to have disappeared, or so you’d thought. But now that there’s nothing else filling her mind anymore, it looks like she’s back at it, and you can’t help but snort. “What? I’m just saying-”

“You say a lot of things, most of them are incorrect.” You say, “I’m not smudging anything tonight. Not on a party with twenty people, for fuck’s sake.”

“Don’t say that before — right there! The big house on the corner!” Nia leans over the console, signaling to the driver where to park. It’s so sudden that you notice how he jumps just slightly from his seat, chuckling to yourself at how Nate snaps his eyes at her.

The front of Evan’s Victorian home is unusually quiet once you step out onto the sidewalk. So much so that, if it weren’t for the lined cars parked along the street and filling his driveway, you would’ve thought you’d typed in the wrong address.

The discrepancy is clear to you when compared to other gatherings Evan hosts in his house, but especially for his birthday. Last year, you could hear Toxic blasting from his place from the moment you turned on his street, and a small crowd gathered on his front yard — most of which you recall being comprised of people plastered out of their minds, particularly one semi-naked man who was using one lamppost as a strip pole while swinging a stuffed snake

That’s more or less the standard one could expect when invited to a party at Evan’s. So, to find the street as silent as any regular day is, to an understanding, odd.

“Are you sure it’s the right date?” You ask as the metal creak of the front gate mends with gushes of wind whistling through the air.

“Yup,” Nia says simply, walking in front of you. “You can hear the music inside, shush.”

You come quiet, listening in, and, surely, you can hear the faint keys of a piano coming from the other side of the stone walls, but it only brings up more questions to your head than answers. Evan seems like the last person on Earth who would listen to classical music. Deciding not to voice your question this time, you follow short behind Nia, kicking some loose stones on the gravel path leading to the front door.

There’s no need for more than a single knock for it to open almost immediately, revealing a lace-clad Evan downing the last bits of his wine. Without the barrier you can hear the music more clearly, the keys of the piano meshing in a peculiar way, not like anything you’ve ever heard in a classical song— at least not ten years ago when you tried to learn piano for a year before giving up.

“Look at my favorite people!” Evan says with his purple-stained lips, pulling Nia for a hug with the arm that’s not holding the door open while pointing at a spot behind her. “Did you greet Jonathan when you passed him? It’s his birthday as well.”

He points to a spot where a gnome statue sits in the dry grass, face painted in clown makeup. Nate’s voice comes from behind you, “Christ.”

“Nate!” Evan chirps, going straight for the man standing with a sharp smile and throwing his arms around him. “You know you’re my favorite grumpy, right?”

Nate only taps on the shorter man’s back, quickly moving to Nia’s side as soon as he’s free from the embrace. With that, Evan turns to you, hands finding your elbows as he takes you in, “And what have you been up to, bug? It's been ages.”

“You know… Books and… Stuff.” You chuckle, brushing it off. “Happy birthday, E.”

“Thank you!” He claps his hands together. “Now, c’mon, let’s get all of you started.”

Following him inside, you’re met with a glittery box standing right next to the entrance; rolls of tape seal it shut, and a hand-sized hole has been cut on top of the lid. You try to peek at what could be inside, but strings of colorful crepe paper are stuck to the hole, making it harder to know its contents.

Evan picks up the box, holding it to his side. “So, I need each of you to grab a piece of paper inside the box. There will be a number in it but for now just hold on, drink, and chat while waiting for further instructions.” His voice lowers at the end to give his words more of a mystery behind them.

Nate tenses in front of you and you have to keep yourself from chuckling at his desperate gaze moving from the box to his girlfriend as he moves uncomfortably on his feet. Nia, however, only gives him a pat on his back, barely looking at her boyfriend as she does a little dance in excitement. “Oh, this feels fun.” She says, quickly reaching her hand inside the box and retrieving a piece of paper. “Mysterious, but fun. What do you have in mind, sir?”

“Nothing too crazy this year, darling, you can relax — We’re all too tired.” He moves the box towards Nate, who reluctantly reaches inside. “Just something to mesh people together that won’t give me too much of a headache to clean tomorrow.”

“Smart.” You say, peeking at the box as it’s presented to you before reaching for a paper inside, quickly reading the number eight written on it before folding the piece between your fingers.

“Nice! As always, drinks in the kitchen. We’re starting in ten minutes!” Evan claps, hushing the three of you further inside.

Surprisingly, this time around there are no posters of his face in sight as you follow Nia and Nate to the kitchen. There’s a mild mash of voices coming from the living room — where the sound of the piano is the loudest, and you wonder if he got an actual piano or if it’s just a Bluetooth speaker —, but it’s not nearly as loud as you’re used to from past times. The lighting has been lowered to a buttery yellow; you realize once you enter the kitchen that feels too bright to your eyes in contrast to the hallway.

“Is there any alcohol?” You wonder out loud, and Nia glances at you with her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. “What? I’m just asking ‘cause everyone is unusually quiet.”

“There’s wine and — what are these guys right here?” She picks up one out of four plastic jars sitting on the kitchen island, reading the label stuck to it out loud, “Strawberry Mary — ooh, this looks fun.”

You reach for the other three to check their contents, but all have names similar to the one Nia now fills her cup with — fruity, yet mysterious: Lana Banana, Jenny Berry Mix, and Pineapple Suzan. “Did he come up with these?” You chuckle, reaching for the berry mix.

“It was probably Adam,” Nia says, and you frown. “That bartender guy? The one with the pet snakes.”

“Oh, yeah. I know him.”

The room comes quiet as you serve yourself, and only after you glance up you realize a tension lingering in the air. Nate stands awkwardly in a corner, eyes fixed on Nia as he moves his head around subtly. Glancing between the two of them, you notice how their expressions change as they keep their eyes locked, not a single word being uttered out loud. To you, it almost feels as if they are reading each other’s minds, and the heat of their silent argument becoming clear once Nate huffs, shaking his head.

Nia clears her throat, seemingly uncomfortable, shooting you a knowing look. It’s only when she gives you a toothless smile that you realize the silent question behind it. “Uhm, I’m going to check if there are any sweets outside.”

Beelining towards the doorway, you quickly make your way out of the room. The hallway is empty and, from where you stand awkwardly in the middle of it, you can tell Evan’s left his spot by the front door, meaning he’s likely gone to the living room where the rest of the guests are. You can hear them chatting, although like you previously pointed, the voices are much more controlled than what you’re used to, and that makes you oddly flustered by the thought of walking in alone.

Considering the limited amount of invitations this year, the chances of you knowing anyone are slim and, to add to your sudden nervousness, most of the people from Evan’s closest circle of friends are — like himself — inexplicably intimidating. This is mostly because it feels like this unspoken competition that everyone has settled with each other, to subtly brag about your success whilst simultaneously pretending to be impressed about the other’s accomplishments. And for you specifically, considering you’re not part of this artist clique that they lock themselves into, it feels particularly tiresome to be part of those interactions.

So, you opt to wait for Nia, pretending to admire one peculiar painting hanging on a wall opposite to where the doorway leading to the living room stands. Every so often, you catch yourself glancing over your shoulder one way or the other, either towards the kitchen to check if your friends are joining you, or to the doorway where the rest of the guests are in. At one point, the voices get louder, joining in a laugh before tangling together in a mess of noise you can’t make sense of. It’s after a minute that you hear footsteps coming from the living room, making you freeze on your spot, carefully turning your back to whoever’s about to catch you avoiding the party, and focusing on the piece you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes.

The painting you first thought was just random strokes of earth tones abstractly put together you now realize it’s a man and it doesn’t take you more than a second or two to recognize Evan’s side profile in a peach shade. Your hand claps on top of your mouth as you fight the urge to laugh. The sound comes out muffled, but it stops as you hear the footsteps falter as they turn into the hallway. Keeping you back to them, you listen as the wooden floor creaks as whoever was approaching makes their way back. You peek to catch sight of who it might be, but all you make out is the shadow of mustard corduroys turning the corner.

As if on cue, Nia and Nate finally appear from the kitchen, thankfully neither appearing to be sour after the talk in the kitchen.

“Finally.” You say, still feeling giggly from your finding. “Nate, you have to check this-”

“Okay! Let’s start, then. Do we have everyone in the living room?” Evan’s voice interrupts you as he calls out. Nia guides you along with her to the living room. And, as soon as the three of you enter, Evan nods at you, before continuing, “Now that all the bunnies are trapped, we shall begin!” He laughs, clapping his hands together before motioning vaguely to everyone. “Before I explain what I have planned, I want to pair you all. So, I’ll call out the numbers that each of you picked when you arrived, so everyone can find their pair.”

You frown, confuse yet curious about what Evan’s up to as he calls out the numbers. Now that you stop to glance around the room, you note how there are more people than you’d expected. It’s still not nearly as many as previous parties of his, but it still feels like the room is nicely filled, maybe just a dozen people above twenty. And amongst them, there’s quite a few you recognize as they pair up together — like Georgia, the first one to be called, whom you spent a good half of the New Year’s party with, or Taylor, who gets paired with Nia (you remember him particularly from a film festival that Nia had been part of — he produced and directed a short film comparing the second wave of feminism to the wildlife in the Amazon Rainforest, and Nia couldn’t stop complaining about how bad it was for the entire week after).

It’s when Evan jokes with someone on the other side of the room, however, that you see him.

He’s tucked in a corner, right next to the bookshelves, arms crossed under his chest in a way that makes his tattoos pop out of his biceps, something you notice even standing on the opposite end of the room. His smile is subtle as he watches the scene in front of him, but it’s still enough for a dimple to poke at one side of his face -- it’s barely there, but you’ve seen it up close enough times that you notice those details. His hand holds a drink, but you pay no mind to it because what calls your attention is the mustard corduroy hugging his hips, the same one you watched run from you not only five minutes ago.

He laughs, and you avert your eyes, mouth still hung open. You wonder if anyone will notice if you leave.

But, as though he could read your mind, Evan calls the number written on that sits crumbled inside the pocket of your jacket. “Where are my number eights?”

You step forward and, like a magnet, your eyes glue on Harry as he raises his hand.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you have to fight against an urge to shut your eyes tightly as the regret of having left your room at all tonight becomes almost overwhelming. All you expected for the night was to forget about book reports and endless essays piled up on your computer, to relax, maybe drink a bit more than you should while watching Evan’s friends dancing with a taxidermy beaver or something of sorts (that was on his friendsmas party two years ago). Instead, here you are on what feels like the first day of class dynamic your teacher has imposed to make everyone interact with each other. And, suddenly, the long pages of (insert boring book) don’t seem that bad right now.

And to make matters worse (because the universe just likes to add a little more spice to your tragedies) of all people standing in this living room you just had to be paired with the one with whom you had a fling-like relationship six months ago.

It’s awkward before he even approaches you, the tension making you fidget in your spot anxiously, barely being able to shoot a tight smile his way.

The last time you saw Harry was through the rearview mirror of a car, standing on the sidewalk like an abandoned puppy with his tail between his legs. Though you admit you let your dramatics take away when you turned away from him to leave, the feeling behind it was genuine. You were upset. He had led you on, after all, made you think he wanted to have something more just to ignore you for months and, later, appear with a redhead under his arms and call her his girlfriend. So, yes, it wasn’t the best note to leave on.

But despite how you left the last encounter, the spark of nervousness that shoots through your stomachs right now doesn’t come exactly because of his presence, but more so for the awkward nature of this encounter. At the time it happened, you avoided any activity that had the slight possibility of seeing him again like the plague. You were hurt, and you were mad — though the second part was more directed at yourself than at him. But that was six months ago. After all, as much as you felt enchanted by him and as much as those two weeks you spent together were nice, that’s all that it was: two weeks. Yes, you were sad and, yes, maybe you shed a tear or two while watching Love, Rosie with Nia afterward, but that passed as quickly as it came.

That is, until now.

“Your hair is shorter” This Is all you blurt out when he stands in front of you again.

“It is, yeah.” Harry runs his hand through his hair. The strands that last time you saw him, curled around his jawline, now peek just under his earlobe. “Did it myself, actually.”

“Really?” You take a big gulp from your drink, gaze going anywhere but meeting his own. “Found yourself another talent.”

“Another?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I mean, besides acting.” You grin, holding the cup to your lips and sparing him a glance. “Suppose after your debut you’ve gotten yourself busy with casting calls”

“Of course” Harry laughs. Now that you’re closer you have a better look at his dimples as they pop out, as well as the constellation of freckles hugging his nose, and the mole right under his lips. You avert your eyes again. “I’m set to be the next Bond, in fact”

“Oh, wow.” You raise your brows, grinning at the brim of your cup. “I can see it.”

He turns to you, “Can you?” You peek at him. "Why is that?”

This is exactly what you were afraid of all those months ago after last seeing him. The entire reason you ran from any possibility of seeing him again afterward. You can still remember clearly how much of a flirt he is, even when he doesn’t mean to be. It’s not a secret that Harry’s a charming man. His words are like honey, and when he uses them just right, you know is enough to have you melting. And it doesn’t help how well you seem to click together. Even now, you still feel it by your impulse to flirt back, to look him in the eye, and get just close enough to feel the scent of his cologne. Do all that just to turn away in the last second. Tease him the same way he did you. But you don’t do any of that, of course, because you’re as petty as you are bitter. So, instead, you click your tongue. “Don’t get too comfortable, Harry, bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about that.”

He chuckles. “What girlfriend?”

This time you turn fully at him, brows shooting up not in defiance, but surprise. “Yikes.” You say before you’re able to hold back.

“Yikes.” Harry still holds a smile when he repeats it, head falling as he lets out a — nervous? — laugh.

A question pops into your head. One that lingered in your mind for a good while now, but comes back a bit louder now that you have the information that his relationship was short-lasted after all. It’s a short one, but one that requires a long answer, you suppose. What happened? You think. But you don’t dare to voice it, you don’t want to have this conversation with him. Whatever the explanation is, it’s not going to change anything. So you just avert your gaze back to Evan, who now calls for everyone’s attention again.

“I know you’re all dying to know what this is all about. So, I’m going to explain it all.” And with that introduction, Evan dives into a monologue you only pay half mind to. It’s hard for you to focus on the words rapidly leaving his mouth as you can feel Harry glancing at you every so often from the corner of your eye. You listen in to Evan describing himself as a feisty kid and mention his love for drama, and then you feel the ghost of Harry’s arm bumping against yours as he sways on his feet. You try to pay attention to the story being told of the events leading up to this birthday party, and then you have to hold yourself back from meeting Harry’s eyes once you feel them at the side of your face once again. He makes a comment under his breath that you don’t quite catch, and you’re about to question him before Evan’s voice comes in an even higher pitch. “I wanted tonight to be exactly that: chaotic. I didn’t want anything to quite make sense, and I didn’t want to think much, if I’m honest, last year of film school is taking a big chunk of my functioning neurons and m’dad’s whiskey collection is taking the rest of them.”

There’s a collective laugh that takes place and, once again, Harry’s eyes peeking at you. “Everyone can relax, it’s not one of those murder mystery parties, as I’ve heard some people guess — for fuck’s sake as if I have the time and patience to plan something like that.” He says with a sip directly from a wine bottle you just now realize he’s been holding. “It’s a scavenger hunt, you have a partner and an envelope with clues. Each pair will find something related to moi and after it’s all done, we’ll eat burgers and talk about me for the rest of the night.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Harry mumbles.

Evan claps his free hand on his wrist, hushing everyone. “So off you go, c’mon! I’ll be hungry in an hour.”

“This is gonna be…” You start. “Interesting.”

“Interesting is a great word to describe it.”

“Well, let’s try to do this as quickly as possible, then.”

The side of his lips quirks up. “On a rush?”

“This is not exactly a comfortable position to be. I think you get it.” You say, fidgeting on your feet. You wait for a second for him to say something so you can start the activity, but he doesn’t and you realize there’s a piece missing. “Do you have an envelope?”

Harry nods, reaching for his pocket where the envelope sits folded in half. He swiftly opens it, taking out a card.

“Well?” You prompt, “Read us the first clue, Bond.”

There’s a smile that Harry fights against at the nickname and you’re not sure due to the dim light, but you think there’s a hint of a rosy tone on the apple of his cheeks. “An activity that grows lives and ruins manicures.” He reads out loud, pausing for a moment before laughing to himself. “I know this one.”

“Grows lives?” You frown. “As in, a pregnancy?”

Harry shakes his head, leading the way towards the corridor. “As in, gardening.”

“That’s a very weird way to put it.” You say, following him. “Does he garden?”

He walks into the kitchen, greeting two people you don’t recognize who are searching for something — their clue, you assume — inside the cabinets. “No, but his sister does. There’s a greenhouse in the back.”

You simply hum in response, muttering a quick thank you as he opens the door for you that leads to the back garden. The greenhouse is not unfamiliar to you from the outside, there have been a good amount of summer gatherings in his back garden for you to know of its existence. But you’ve thought nothing more about it. If you’re honest, you never really paid much attention to it. If anything, you assumed he used it as storage at most, never taking Evan as someone who enjoyed gardening. Though now you know you were right, you've also learned that his sister lives with him and you wonder why he’s never mentioned it before.

The curiosity inside of you wants to question Harry about it, to ask him what else he knows you don’t. When you think about it, there’s a lot you want to ask him about. Not just regarding Evan, but also regarding him. You wonder what he’s been up in the past six months if he ended up adopting the kitten he’d told you about back when you were still filming or if he read any of the book recommendations you wrote on his notes app one particular night the two of you chatted for longer than the moon could hold itself up in the sky. The part of you that begs for you to say something on the short walk is so strong you have to physically bite your tongue to be able to hold back.

You don’t have to hold for long, however, as Harry takes it upon himself to say, “So,” He starts, clearing his throat, “How- uh- how are you doing?”

Somehow, his words click something inside of your mind. They remind you of why you shouldn’t let that curious part of you win. The sole purpose of it not falling for his charm. You shake your head, “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He frowns, his steps faltering for a second.

“Small talk.” You answer, focused on your goal. “We’ll just solve this thing as quickly as possible so I can go back home and finish my Euphoria marathon.”

“Right.” Harry nods once, and you can’t help but notice the way his lips quirk down, the frown not leaving his face. You can’t lie and say it doesn’t make your stomach drop the slightest bit to see you’ve upset him, but you have to remind yourself how much he’s upset you, too.

It’s protecting yourself, you think. After tonight, you don’t have to see him ever again.

Inside the greenhouse, you’re greeted with a mix of scents you’re not prepared for before stepping in. The space is compact, with a single corridor narrowed with garden beds on each side. Dozens of branches and leaves tickle you as you walk in, most of them belonging to different flowers that, despite the chilly weather that still lingers outside, are already blooming. It’s a blend of colors, bright reds, and ocean blues, soft purple petals kissing pink and yellow ones.

“We should look for gloves.” Harry’s voice startles you, chuckling as you jump a bit.

“Huh?”

“Gloves.” He says. “I think whatever we’re looking for has to do with the gloves, ‘cause he mentioned manicure.”

“That makes sense.” You look around. Many gardening tools are piling under the tables that hold the garden beds; watering cans and empty pots. You look between bags of fertilizer and drawers filled with shovels. There’s so much stuff to look through that, at one point, you sit back on your calves, glancing around, lost.

You hear Harry leafing through as you’re doing, feeling his legs brushing against your back as he passes by and you stop, watching him from your spot on the floor. He’s got a concentrated look on his face, bottom lip worried between his teeth as he scans through the walls before he opens another drawer. That’s when his gaze falls, catching yours. You quickly turn away, pretending to go through another pile of empty pots and blocking the sound of a chuckle coming from his spot.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clicking of ceramics and the opening and closing of wooden drawers. That is until you hear from Harry, “A-ha!”

You look up again, seeing him move to the back where few pairs of gloves hang on the wall — so obvious yet still hidden between raincoats and summer hats. “Right under our noses.” You say, getting up.

Harry searches inside the gloves, tongue trapped between his teeth. “Bingo!” He says, pulling out two tiny bottles from inside one pair.

“What is it?”

“Liquor.” He grins, peeking at you from under his lashes before ripping a piece of paper attached to it. “It says ‘one for each, now get to clue number two.’” He holds up one bottle, offering it to you, to which you take it. “It’s chocolate flavored.”

“Of course it would be a drinking game.” You open it, feeling the artificial chocolate scent braid with the alcohol. “Christ.”

“Don’t smell it, or it’ll be worse,” Harry says, downing his with one quick tilt of his head. “‘S not that bad, actually.”

You mimic his action, letting the drink swiftly burn its way down your throat. Unlike Harry, you can’t help but scrunch your nose at the taste. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Harry only giggles in response, taking the empty bottle from you and placing it back inside the gloves, along with his own.

And then again, silence. You turn to the flowers to find some comfort.

A family of tulips glances back at you, their petals in a full red, it’s the kind of beauty you’re scared to ruin if you touch, so you just rest your hand on the wood. “They’re beautiful.” You only notice you say it out loud when Harry hums back in agreement.

“They are.” He says quietly but somehow feels loud by how close he is. “Tulips are my favorites.”

You stop, brows raising incredulously at him. “No, they’re not.”

“What?”

Cursing the universe for playing with you like this, you can’t help but laugh at the situation. “It’s just- they’re my favorites, too.” You look at him. “My nan used to plant them when I was little.”

“That’s sweet.” He says, smiling and you nod. “The red ones represent true love.” He points. “And the purple ones represent royalty.”

You blink at him. “Do you just look up tulip facts in your free time?”

Harry laughs. “Yeah, basically.” He looks down at you, and you can’t help but notice how the greenery around brings out the shade of his eyes. “I worked at a flower shop for a tick.”

“Really?”

He nods. “For eight months. My favorite part was writing on the store board every morning.” His face lights up as he recalls his experience. “I used to write silly stuff like, ‘one day I’d like to meet tulips.’ The old ladies loved it.”

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Why’s that?”

Because you’re sweet, you want to answer, because when I think I won’t get charmed by you again, you hit me with tulip puns. Your lip finds its spot between your teeth, you’d be damned to give him the satisfaction of hearing you tell him that, so, instead, you shrug. “Because.” You can tell he wants to dig more by the way his lip twitch up, teasing a smile, but you just nod towards the door before turning away from him and heading out.

There’s a distinct change of temperature when you step outside, and it’s only when you do that you notice the greenhouse was heated. Thankfully, the night is not too windy as it would get a week or two ago when winter was still insisting on making itself present, but it’s still chilly so that it makes you hug your jacket closer to your body. Harry also notices the difference, as you hear him wince as he steps out from behind you — unlike you, he’s not wearing anything to protect his arms from the cold, which only makes it harder for you to not ogle the tattoos hugging his skin.

“So, what’s next?” You prompt.

Harry reaches for the card again, taking it from its spot on his pocket before reading the second clue. “‘Not feeling too creative to write this one, it’s on the third tree on oak.’”

“I mean, at least we don’t have to think too much on this one.” You say, “Oak Street is the one to the left, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs. “Can’t believe he’s making us go out on the streets.”

You start to make your way back towards the house. “Too tired for a stroll?”

“‘S cold,” Harry says, scrunching his nose. “Here, there’s a side gate.”

He guides you through a gravel path to where the black gate stands, hidden between bushes and branches. Strings of fern hug the bricked fence and the surrounding grass is high enough that it tickles your calves through your tights, making you believe this path has probably been left unused for at least a couple of months now. This information brings out an extra worry for you, as you take a better look at it, noticing how the gate is closed shut to the fence.“Is it open?” You wonder out loud.

“Shit, I don’t think it is.” Harry huffs under his breath. “But, I mean, we could easily jump it.”

You stop, turning to glance at him as the suggestion leaves his lips. He stands there, hands on his hips, examining the gate, tongue poking out as he frowns. After a second, he meets your eyes. “What? It’s not that tall.”

“I suppose.” You say, looking back at the fence that ends just below your shoulder length. It would be easy enough for you to climb it with a boost, however, “I’m wearing a dress.”

“Oh,” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just go inside-” He turns back.

“Wait,” You stop him, not sure if it’s the slight amount of alcohol in your system already making you more adventurous, you train your gaze at the gate, analyzing it again, before looking back at him. Squinting your eyes, “You have to close your eyes.”

He laughs, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not that high.” You shrug. “But I need your help.”

“Of course.” He moves next to the brick wall, kneeling before it and nodding towards you. “C’mon, step up.”

Hesitantly, you glance at his thigh stretching his trousers, a sudden wave of insecurity hitting you. “Are you sure you can lift me?”

Harry simply puts his hand out in a silent request for you to hold. “Of course.”

“No peeking.”

He shuts his eyes tightly, chin meeting his chest as he looks down. And then you take his hand, feeling his fingers lock in a firm hold as he helps you use him for support. You hesitate again before using his thigh as a step, “Wait, I’m gonna ruin your trousers.” You worry, but Harry only shakes his head, still keeping it facing the ground, the strands of his hair falling above his eyes in a makeshift blindfold. When he doesn't feel you stepping in still, he encourages you with a squeeze in your hand.

You attempt to do as quickly as possible with your dress clinging to your legs, tightening your hold to Harry’s hand to step on his thigh. Once you let it go, you can still feel it lingering behind your back as you use your arms to boost yourself up the wall, sitting on it for a moment before jumping to the other side with a huff.

“Can I open them?” You hear Harry’s voice calls from the other side, and you smile, nodding even though he can’t see it.

“Yes!”

And then his face appears as he stands up in a jump, grinning at you. “See? Easy Peasy.”

“I feel like a teen sneaking out.” You say, and you instantly give another meaning to your words as Harry boosts himself up. This time, you certainly don’t hold yourself back from staring at the way his muscles flex at the movement, the tattoos on his arms stretching, and his shirt rolling up. He makes it look so easy, so effortless, barely taking five seconds until he’s jumping in front of you.

“That was fun.” He puffs, patting his trousers lightly.

“So, how are we finding the tree?” You ask, taking a quick glance to where his hands brush on the fabric of his trousers. “Should we read the clue again?”

“I know which one he’s talking about,” Harry says, nodding to the left before beginning his stride in that direction. You follow him, trusting his words as the two of you turn the corner where Evan’s house is located.

The street in question is much calmer than the one you were just in, with no cars coming or going from the residences — that stand much closer to one another, you notice, giving the whole street more of a narrow feeling to it --, which is not exactly odd, but certainly is a contrast with the main street that Evan’s home faces, that one being more lively with people either coming home or leaving it to enjoy their Friday night. The sudden lack of background noise makes the walk to your destination a tad awkward, as none of you make an effort to strike a conversation. Instead, you resort to silently observing the surrounding area as you walk alongside Harry, noticing how the trees here bend over the sidewalk, their naked branches slowly but surely growing back the leaves they lost months ago — it makes you wonder how beautiful this must look during the peak of springtime, their full branches blending together, making a ceiling of flowers.

“Here.” Harry stops abruptly, making you almost bump into his shoulder, as you were too busy with the scenery you’ve made in your own head. “‘S this one.”

“I thought it said the third one.” You frown, looking back and noticing the way you’ve passed way more than just three.

“This one is the third.” He says, motioning to a small birdhouse stuck to its trunk with a number ‘3’ painted to the front in blue. “It’s a bit of an inside joke,” Harry chuckles to himself. “Now I get why the bastard wanted me to have this card.”

You look closer at the tree, trying to see if there’s something attached to it besides the birdhouse, but there’s nothing. Before you can question it, Harry opens the front of the tiny house, retrieving two tiny bottles from inside of it, similar to the ones you found in the greenhouse. “Oh, no.” You say, laughing. “Did he just put liquor inside a stranger’s birdhouse?”

Harry shakes his head, “This is not a stranger’s birdhouse.”

“Huh?” You frown, glancing back to the house where you stand in front of, its front completely dark, showing that no one must be at home. You point to it over your shoulder. “Do you know who lives here?”

“Yeah,” He starts, offering you one bottle. “I do.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise, glancing back and forth from the house to the man standing in front of you, an amusing grin growing on his face. “You live here?” You ask, “This is your birdhouse?”

“It is, yeah. In fact, I was the one who built it.” He gives the birdhouse a small pat.

You can’t help but let your mouth hang open for a second. “That’s-” You pause, not sure which word to use. Impressive? Amazing? Hot? “That’s nice.”

Harry smiles, and the two of you stand there for a moment, admiring his work in silence. You suck your bottom lip in, keeping yourself from inquiring further.

Being presented with how little you know about Harry only peaks at your curiosity at what had happened last year in your brief experience with him. When you were with him it felt as if you’d known him for months rather than weeks, but looking back at it now, you wonder if your infatuation fooled you into thinking the two of you were close. Maybe that’s why you were so upset at the premiere after all because all that did was prove to you how much you didn’t know him at all. No matter how many sleepless nights you spent together sharing bits of your lives, it wasn’t enough for you to get to know him.

It’s only when a car turns into the street that you break away from your thoughts, looking up at him and clearing your throat. “We should take this back to Evan’s.” You say. “I’m not sure how it would look from an outsider’s point of view to see us downing these tiny bottles in the middle of the street.”

“You’re right,” Harry says. “Should we read the last clue while we’re at it?”

“Sure, yeah.”

He reaches for the card inside his pocket, presenting it to you. “You do the honors this time.”

You take the card, brushing your thumb over the words before stopping for a second to read them out loud, “You’ll find your prize behind the words of buried legends.” You snort. “That’s so corny.”

“Words of buried legends,” Harry repeats, letting out a hum. “Bet he was feeling quite poetic when he wrote this one.”

“Maybe because it has to do with poems.” You peek at him, a slight raise to your eyebrow. “‘Words of buried legends’? like dead poets and stuff?” Upon reading it again to make sure, you mumble, “He really made this card especially for you, huh?”

“Makes sense.” Harry agrees before nudging you playfully with his arm. “Look at you with your literary mind!”

“Could’ve used some better wording but I’ll let it pass.” You giggle, shrugging as you hand him back the card. As you do so, you notice there’s something written on the other side. “What’s in the back?”

Harry’s brows meet. “Huh?”

“In the back of the card, something’s written on it.” You nod towards his hand as he’s about to pocket the card again.

Harry turns it around, reading it with a chuckle. “Ice breakers.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Your mouth drops open in amusement. “Well? Go on, then. Break the ice.”

Harry makes a show of clearing his throat before reading the question as an announcement, “What celebrity do you think you could pull on your best day?”

“Is this the actual question?” You squint your eyes at him and he turns the card to allow you to read it as well. Surely, the same question reads right on top of it and, as you take a glance at the ones below it, they’re not that much better. You shake your head, “God, I have no idea.”

“I know mine.”

“You didn’t give a single thought on that one.” You say. “This should be good.”

“Jennifer Aniston.”

“Jennifer Aniston?” You stop on your tracks, raising your brows at him. “You know she was married to Brad Pitt, right?”

“Ouch.” Harry makes the theatrics of putting a hand on his heart, head falling dramatically to the side. “Right where it hurts.”

“I’m not saying you’re bad-looking, but he’s Brad Pitt.” You emphasize with a laugh, pushing him playfully as you keep walking. “Like he is the male beauty standard. Personified.”

The front of Evan’s feels more vivid than it was when you first walked in hours ago, the lights inside seeming lighter and the curtains having been pulled back, showing people wandering around on the inside. You walk past another pair crouched in front of the bushes that line next to the front gate that creaks as you open it.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Sure, let’s hear yours, then, sweetheart.”

“Ew, don’t ever call me that again.” Your nose scrunches and your face grows hot, but you attempt to shake it off, stopping to think of the question. “Huh, on my best day? I think… I don’t know, maybe Drake?”

“Oh, no!” Harry’s hands cover his face as he shakes his head into them. “I feel like that’s the most basic answer anyone could ever give to this question.”

You gasp. “Did you just call me basic?”

Harry holds the front door open for you and, before he’s able to give you an answer, you bump right into Nia. She instantly blurts out your name, as if she’s been expecting you to appear. “I’ve been looking for you!” She says, sparing Harry a glance over your shoulder before pulling you slightly to the side. “Do you think we could talk for a second?”

“Sure.” You hold out the word, looking at Harry before focusing on your friend again. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, nothing happened. Just—” Nia starts, locking your arms as she guides you back outside, pulling you to a corner a few steps away from the front door. “How are you? How's it going?”

“I’m fine. Why?” Your brows knit together at her interference and you wonder if it has anything to do with her conversation with Nate.

“I’m talking about-” She looks over her shoulder, clearly checking if anyone is listening in. Even after making sure that there’s no one there, she still lowers her voice. “When I saw he was your pair, I wanted to rescue you right away, but fucking Taylor pulled me with him and I didn’t get the chance.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Is it too awkward?” She keeps her inquiry, holding your hand close to her chest. “We could ask them to switch so we can do the rest together, I’m sure Evan’s too plastered to notice.”

“Nia, I-” You smile as you come to realize that she pulled you aside just to check if you’re uncomfortable, having witnessed first-hand your whines and cries over Harry last year. “It’s okay, really. It’s not that bad, surprisingly.”

“Really?” Nia blinks, taken aback. “I- What happened?”

“Nothing.” You reassure her with a squeeze on her hand. “We’re just chatting, it’s not that awkward.”

“Okay.” She nods and nods, before falling serious again. “But if anything happens you just have to scream for me and I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay.” You say, pulling her for a brief hug. “Thanks, Ni.”

The two of you return inside just as Taylor brings up his brother’s hair sculpture collection that’s being exhibited at a local gallery — a subject you already have been the victim of hearing for about an hour during New Year’s and, by Harry’s face, he seems as helpless as you did back then. Nia doesn’t waste a second before pulling her pair away, “Let’s go, pal, those clues won’t solve themselves,” she shoots you a look over her shoulder, pushing Taylor towards the living room and you chuckle.

“He really is one of a kind, that man,” Harry says with a sigh before meeting your gaze. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just lady talk.” You brush aside. “Let’s find those poets, shall we?”

“We shall.” Harry smiles, looking around for a second before guiding you down the hallway, turning just before entering the kitchen where a staircase. This is a way that — like the greenhouse — you’ve never been to. Still, Harry navigates so casually as if it were his own home and, to some degree, you suppose it is. You follow him up the first flight of steps, stopping just before turning into the next one where a door you never really noticed before stands. Harry rests his hand on the handle, turning to you before saying, “There’s an office hidden right here.”

You watch as he opens it, motioning for you to walk in first. And, indeed, the inside of it is an office, just a bit smaller than the living room on the opposite side of the house. Two bookcases that go from the floor to the ceiling mostly covered the wall, only leaving a single space in the middle for a dark wooden cabinet. In front of it, an L-shaped desk takes up the middle of the room, most of it is filled with files and paper stacks, as well as two computers lying asleep. For a moment, you just stand by the doorway, admiring this room you’ve never known of its existence, your eyes quickly sweeping through the bookshelves completely packed with dark cover books of all sorts. “Do you think this is where it could be?”

“Probably, yeah.” Harry nods, turning on the lights. “I don’t know where else he could have any poetry hidden.”

You move towards one bookshelf, the one closest to the door, reaching to brush your finger through the spines perfectly lined. “But look at the size of these, we’ll take forever to find anything in here.”

“Those big ones are mostly law books, I think,” Harry says, opening cabinets at the other side of the room, right next to where a white couch stands. He turns to look at you, “His sister’s a lawyer, this is her office.” Harry says, “But Evan’s got a corner right here where he keeps some of his stuff— like books of sorts. It’s the only place I could think of.”

You hum, not knowing exactly what to respond to this information.

“You can go through the ones on that side, it could be there as well.” Harry nods towards a cabinet right next to the door where you came from, and you nod.

The first two cabinets are of no luck, both being mostly filled with boxes full of children’s books and old toys — some of them mixed with more stacks of paper, but those, instead of having long texts, have drawings of all kinds from what you could gather in a glance, from child-like scribbles to actual sketches. You can hear Harry going through drawers on the other side of the room and, upon closing another empty cabinet, you peek at him, watching his broad back flexing under his shirt as he moves around. Averting your eyes as swiftly as you looked, it’s still enough to bring warmth to your cheeks.

Finally, you open the cabinet at the very bottom of the shelf. On the top, there are piles of DVDs, most being different variations of Barbie movies, but, right at the bottom, you find books. You don’t stop to check their genre at first, simply moving them away until you stumble upon a small box, the top of it marked with the word ‘prize’. “Found it!” You call back, taking the box away from the pile before setting the books back in place again. “Under Rupi Kaur? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure she’s very alive.”

“Don’t tell Evan that,” Harry says as he crouches next to you, taking the box from your hands. Inside, there are, as expected, two tiny bottles like the ones you found before but, what calls both your attention, is a small bag of sweets lying in the middle. Harry takes it, “Oh, those are nice.”

He hands it to you and you open it, quickly shoving a jelly candy into your mouth before nodding. “Yeah.”

“So…” Harry starts, peeking over his shoulder, “Do you want to go back there?”

You glance at him, his eyes hovering above yours, lips twitching up just barely. “Uh… Maybe not right now.” You answer, “Unless you feel like sharing our Jellies with other people.”

Harry only laughs, shaking his head as he sits back and you do so too, right next to him. He reaches for his pocket, presenting another tiny bottle, the one you found inside his birdhouse, “We still got these.”

“Right!” You fetch your own out of the pocket of your jacket.

Harry opens his, holding it up towards you. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” You say, mimicking him.

Both of you down your drinks, the liquid tasting bitter, like medicine on your tongue, the only reminder of alcohol being the burn as it slides down your throat. You rest your head back on the cabinet behind you as the two of you fall into silence once more. A part of your mind is already beginning to swim around the space inside your head, and you decide to not take the last drink just yet, laying it next to your leg. Though you’ve only had the equivalent of two shots, you realize the long break you’ve had from drinking for the past couple of months -- which wasn’t exactly an intentional choice, but more like the result of your lack of free time -- is showing itself to have been enough to make you more of a lightweight.

And even though the night so far has been strikingly surprising in terms of how comfortable you felt being around Harry again, it doesn’t mean the questions you’ve been carrying since last year have gotten any quieter. They’ve only gotten louder. More persistent, even. The curiosity you feel to know what happened is almost suffocating now. And you’d be damned if you let a drunken mind stop you from having this conversation.

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, only watching the back of his head bobbing along with the music -- still the piano -- that comes faintly from behind the closed door. Your lips part, feeling the question form right at the tip of your tongue, but not knowing how to voice the words. Will it be awkward? You think so, but what if it ruins the night? Tonight, that’s been so oddly refreshing. A night that only served to remind you how you became so infatuated with him in the first place.

But you know you won’t be able to let go of this ich inside your head unless you bring it up. And you want to, you do, but as you take too long to think of the right way to do so, Harry decides to break the silence, murmuring next to you, “That’s a good one.”

Your brows knit together, trying to make out any trace of familiarity within the song that’s playing, but you don't find any, which only leaves you even more confused. “Do you like classical?”

“Love,” Harry says simply, his eyes closed as he moves his head with the piano keys. “Especially this one. One of the greatest works from one of the greatest contemporary composers: Billie Eilish.”

Your lips fall open, “Shut up. Is she playing this?”

Harry laughs, a full one, that brings a grin to poke at your lips. “I mean, as far as I’m aware, no. It’s a version of her song — listen in.” He points to his ear, nodding with the melody as he sings along, “So you’re a tough guy, like it really rough guy.”

You shake your head incredulously, “Of course he’s playing classical versions of pop songs!”

“Did you really think Evan had a taste for Chopin or Debussy?” Harry asks both dimples poking on his cheeks.

“I think at this point I’d believe anything you tell me about him.”

Both of you laugh, the air surrounding you light and warm, before falling quiet again. This time, however, you simply stare at each other for a beat. You watch his eyes, with their almost hypnotizing jade shade, glancing between your own. He rolls his lip between his teeth, nibbling at it. This is the closest you’ve been to him all night, and the details on his face only feel like a reminder of your doubts. Like the nostalgia you feel with a bittersweet memory.

“Should we-“ You stop, the words falling from your lips before you can think about them. “Should we talk about the elephant in the room?”

You half expect Harry to frown, to play dumb, and question you the meaning behind your words. For a second, you even expect him to shake his head, to get up and leave the room. And, for some reason, you kinda want him to do so. To finally break the mask of the nice, sweet guy he’s been putting on all night and allow himself to play the role of cold prick you put him on for the past months.

But he doesn’t do it. He only gives you a short smile. “I was thinking about how to bring it up.” Harry’s gaze falls to his lap for a beat as he scratches his nose. “We should, yeah.”

You nod, more to yourself than to him. This is it. The moment to ask what you’ve been waiting for for six months now. You decide not to think much anymore, allowing the question to roll freely, “I don’t really know how to word this better but- pardon my French- what the fuck happened?”

Harry chuckles, but not an amused one. It’s more of a dry, nervous laugh. “How cliche is it if I tell you I was really fucking stupid?”

“Pretty cliche.” You say, “But also pretty true, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry for that.” He looks up, eyes meeting yours again, his own softening upon seeing you. “I really am.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile a little, “But I think I deserve an explanation.”

“You do.” He speaks quietly before clearing his throat. For a second, he doesn’t say anything else, just takes a sharp breath, focusing on his fingers that play with the hem of his trousers. “I- Uhm- I know this might come as a surprise, but I’m not very good at letting people down.”

“A bit, I guess.” You try to humor, but your tone doesn’t show it. You sound quiet, hurt.

He peeks up at you, and continues, “Jess- the girl you met at the premiere- she’s lovely and all, but- how do I say this- we were never really supposed to be together.” Harry sighs, “I didn’t like her like that.”

You frown, “Then, why did you?”

“A couple of months before we met- before Evan even mentioned the film project to me, one of my mates kept insisting that I should meet his sister.” He pauses, “That was Jess.”

“I figured.”

Harry nods, “As I said, she’s a lovely girl, really nice, but we just- didn’t click like that, you know?” You hum in agreement, ignoring a small twist in your stomach when he repeats the endearment term. “But I guess she really wanted to try it, and, for months, I just kept pushing and pushing, cause I thought maybe with time I could bring myself to feel the same way.” And then again, another humorless laugh, “But- spoiler alert- I couldn’t and I should’ve just told her that.”

Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you decide against saying anything. It’s clear as you watch him explain that the entire situation for him felt more complicated than you’d ever considered. Not once did you think about the possibility of him being caught in a twist of his own decisions, and not once did you regard his feelings with the whole situation. In your bubble of gloominess, all you could think of was how he played you and used you for a bit before moving on to the next girl that fell for his sweet talk.

Looking at him now, however, his head low and brows set on a permanent crease, lips frowning down, you can feel the internal conflict pooling out of his pores. You’re not sure if it’s exactly a look of remorse that he gives you, but it sure seems close to it.

Harry huffs in what feels like frustration as he keeps recalling the events, “But all my mates kept taking the piss, pushing me to ask her out and then, in the middle of it, I met you.” He finally smiles a bit, and you have to look down to hide the warmth that spreads on your cheeks, “And we-uh-” He shrugs, “I mean, we clicked, didn’t we?”

“I think so.” You say, just above a whisper.

“I think so, too,” Harry says, holding your gaze with his own. “And when I was with you I let myself forget about that, forget about the pressure to be with someone else, I guess.” His lips fall again, eyes meeting his lap, “But when we came back, there wasn’t much running away from it anymore. The night we got back I met that friend of mine and, I’m not sure if he said anything to Jess, but she asked me out.”

“And you said yes.”

“I said yes.” He repeats, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have, but I said yes.”

“So you just dated her? Even if you didn’t like her like that?” You say, trying to understand his thought process. Even if his words tug at your heartstrings -- which you try to not think about right now -- you still can’t help but feel a bit for the other girl.

“I thought I could- I don’t know, I thought with time maybe I could-” He stumbles around with his speech, before finally letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what was going through my head, to be honest. I was a prick.”

“At least you can admit to it.”

“I was a prick to both of you.”

You fall quiet, hoping he takes your silence as an agreement. When he doesn’t offer anything else, you speak up again, “Did it work, though?” He frowns, and you clarify, “Letting time force feelings into you?”

“I found very quickly how hard it is to develop feelings for someone when there’s someone else on your mind.” He says, and you bite back a smile that wants to spread on your lips.

“It’s very easy to say that now.”

“I know.” He agrees, “And I wish I could’ve realized that earlier, before even bringing you into this mess.” Harry reaches for your wrist, which lies on top of your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. “For that I really am sorry.”

“I know you are.” You reassure, turning your hand to find his, squeezing it back. “And what happened to Jess?”

“She was rightfully upset when I told her.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, moving the rings on your fingers around just slightly, and it’s almost enough to distract you from his voice. “We broke up a day after the premiere.”

“Ouch.”

“But it’s fine now, she’s got a boyfriend now who actually cares for her the way she deserves,” Harry says.

“That’s nice to hear, at least.”

“It is, yeah.”

You look down at your hands locked in your lap, squeezing his one more time before letting it go with a sigh. “You really made a big mess, huh?”

He chuckles, a guilty smile poking on his face, “I did.”

You nod, finally reaching for the tiny bottle left forgotten next to you, opening it. This time you only take a sip, but it’s still enough to end half of the liquid inside. You click your tongue, “I’m glad we talked, though.” You look up at Harry again, who’s already watching you, giving a small tap on his thigh. “It’s nice to have closure, you know? To give it a conclusion and wrap with a nice little bow.”

Harry rolls his lip inside his mouth, “Is this a conclusion, then?”

You raise your brows, “Is it not?”

“I guess it could be.” He shrugs one shoulder, leaning closer to you just barely, eyes trained in yours. “But I’m hoping that, after today, maybe we could start over?”

You laugh, scrunching your nose at him as you shake your head. “Not a start over, no.” You poke his side, “You’re not getting away that easy.”

“You’re right.” He says, still not budging as he frowns his lips. “But I wish it didn’t have to be an ending as well.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nods, you can tell his eyes hold a shyness that wasn’t here a minute ago, but at the same time -- as paradoxically as it seems -- there’s a boldness as well, one you’re more familiar with. “Maybe we could chat again. This time with fewer ice breaker cards and more bags of sweets.”

You smile, rubbing your chin as you pretend to ponder about his suggestion. “That does sound very promising.”

“I really do think we clicked.” He drops his playful tone as if wanting to make sure you feel the sincerity behind his words. “Wasn’t just saying it.”

“I know.” You say, “And I think so, too.”

His smirk grows, and he doesn’t offer anything else to say, but you can tell he’s holding something back. With the silence, you suddenly become too aware of the way your arms brush together, and how his knee bumps against yours. You notice how his eyes fall a bit from yours, so quickly you could’ve imagined it, but you choose to not think so. If you lean forward, you know he will too, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You’re not letting yourself make the first move.

Surely, you’re aware these thoughts are a direct result of the alcohol sweeping through your mind, testing how much of your pride you’re willing to ignore. There’s no questioning of the wall that you built all those months ago after walking out of this very house with this very man on your tail blurring out apologies. It still stands, tall and strong, and you're not letting sweet words mixed with a drink or two pull it down. Not that easily. But at this moment, looking at his stupidly beautiful face with his stupidly beautiful eyes so close to you, you feel like maybe you could peek through a window, or open up a door — just a creek, just to have a sample of what it would feel like if you were to pull it down.

“Do you want to go back?” Harry asks again, this time more quietly, this time his question has a different implication than it did before.

You're quick to shake your head, voice quiet, “Not yet.”

The corner of his lips quirk up and you raise your brows, silently daring him to ask what he’s been holding. You see his hand moving from the corner of your eyes, but you don’t break your gaze from his, not even when you feel his fingertips moving so gently against your cheekbone, brushing your hair away from your face. Harry leans closer, again just barely, and again, you stay still, only smiling softly in encouragement. Now, you’re stuck in your own silent conversation; both seeking the same thing but not making the move to achieve it -- either for pride or apprehension.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Harry whispers finally, eyes moving down again, this time slowly, making sure that his intentions are clear.

“Do it, then.” You tease.

Harry breathes out a laugh, his hand caressing its way down to your jaw. He rubs his thumb against your cheek, a feathery touch, taking another second to look at you before pulling you in. Your eyes fall closed, as you focus on your senses, and allow yourself to peek from that window, or creek that door open just a bit, to have just this moment to remember when you first got lost in his touch.

First, it’s the warmth of his breath tickling your cupid bow, making your hold your own breath in anticipation. Then, the tip of his nose, gentle against your own, and you can’t help but lean in a bit more when you feel the ghost of his lips on yours. But he pulls back, just so slightly, hoping to have you reach for him again. Except you don’t, knowing what he’s trying to do.

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look him in the eye. “You don’t get to tease me.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, “That’s fair.”

This time, there’s no teasing. Still, he goes in just as slowly as he did the first time around, curving his lips around your bottom one so softly it almost makes you lean in again. His kiss is cloud-like in a way that makes you a bit dizzy and when he presses his lips harder, you have to refrain from letting out a dreamy sigh -- still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction. It’s when you feel the tip of his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip in a silent request, that you pull away completely.

It’s your turn to smirk now, licking your lips before announcing, “I think we should go back now.”

#harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine

342 notes · View notes

fabulouspotatosister · 4 years

Text

just for a day

summary: What’s a little acting between friends? If friends was even the right word.

word count: (idk yet man lol ) 3,373

request: Hello! I just wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! If I may, could I request an 11 x reader where the reader’s friends keep bugging them to get a boyfriend, but they say they already do and they have to ask the Doctor to be their “boyfriend” (kind of like with Clara at the beginning of Time Of The Doctor) and eventually leads to feelings being spilt? If not, that’s perfectly fine!

a/n: this got WAYYY too long and for that i am so sorry lmao. i’m writing and posting this on the same day so if there are many mistakes or it doesn’t make sense that’s on me. anyway, i hope you enjoy this fic!

gif credit: @pavel-chekovs

“You’re back!”

You’d expected screaming. You’d expected yelling, and a fair dose of pterodactyl-esque screeching from the students in your advisory class, but what you weren’t expecting was crying. And lots of it. Nearly every fresh-faced elementary student was in tears, some sobbing quietly and some full-on bawling as soon as you walked through the door.

It was nice, cute even, but honestly a little disconcerting.

“Hi, everyone,” you said, shutting the door carefully behind you. The sight of their crying faces immediately activated your Parent Mode. “Are you all okay?”

“Perfectly fine!” Marih chirped, president of the class and therefore a little more levelheaded than the rest, which earned her a handful of disagreeing sighs. “What? Guys, you look ridiculous crying,” she continued, as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her palms and gave you a toothy grin. “We’re just happy you’re here again.”

You smiled at her, and reached out to pat the top of her head. “That’s great and all, but it’s like you guys haven’t seen me in ages.”

A heavy silence fell over the whole class. You saw students shift in their seats and look down at the floor, suddenly very interested in their black school shoes. Even Jaden, the class’s resident troublemaker, didn’t say a word. Marih cringed, ran a hand through her long dark hair, and smoothed the front of her checkered uniform.

“How long have I been gone?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Marih seemed to cringe away at the question. “I thought I was only travelling for a week!”

“Actually,” Marih said, stretching out the word, “you’ve been gone for three months?”

Your mouth fell open. You stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before you dug into your pocket and fished out your phone – she was right, it had been exactly three months and a week since you’d left the school to go travelling.

You groaned. “Oh, I’m going to kill him.”

By travelling, you meant time travelling and by him you meant the Doctor. The madman in a box that you’d run off with. You had let him turn your life upside down in the best way possible since he dragged you into the TARDIS, with his stupidly gorgeous smile and eyes and – you were getting off topic. Now you were plotting the murder of the man that you would consider to be the most incredible thing that had ever happened to you.

“Hey, ma’am?” came a soft voice from the front of the room. Karyll, with her tied-back hair and glasses, looked up at you from her seat. “Why are you looking like you’re going to kill someone?”

“’Cause I am,” you said cheerily, shoving your phone back into your pocket. Oh, you were going to have words with him, and they would most definitely not be nice ones. “Have I missed anything big? Were you nice to my substitute?”

A collective wave of disagreement swept over the class, and you couldn’t help but let a smile slip onto your face. These were your babies after all, and if you’d really been gone for three months then they were sorely missing their Second Mom.

Maybe the tears weren’t that much of a surprise after all.

“Okay, good morning everyone! Now, if we’re still on schedule, and I really hope we are, we should be talking about integers…”

The late afternoon sun drifted through the curtains of your classroom, filling the room with an almost hazy glow as you sat with your best friends in a haphazard circle of desks. Your kids had all gone home already, and a little pile of flowers and chocolates sat neatly on your shelves, right beside your lesson plan folders.

Denise leaned forward to look at them, her curly hair falling over her face. She was the elementary students’ science teacher, and was so well-organized it was almost inhuman. She would have liked the planet where everything was arranged alphabetically, you thought.

“I’m jealous, my students never give me gifts,” she said as she leaned away. “Sis, where have you even been?”

“Long story,” you replied, and it was. You weren’t sure if you could fit everything you’d been through – travelling through time, going to planets lightyears away, and of course all of the near-death experiences – into a story that you could tell in under an hour, and you weren’t going to try.

“And you’ve been travelling? By yourself?” Julianne, an arts teacher, raised her eyebrows at you from behind her laptop. “God, that’s lonely. Oh – unless…” Her calm expression morphed into something truly evil in your line of work – mischievousness. “Unless you had someone with you.”

“I mean –” Oh no, this was going to be hard to get out of. “I mean, I wasn’t alone,” you said, hoping the smile on your face was enough to mask your utter fear. You knew exactly where Julianne was going and you hated it. “I was with someone.”

“Ooh,” Julianne said, her grin growing so sly it was sending shivers up your spine. “You’ve been gone three months, has anything happened between you and your travel buddy?”

Heat rushed to your face. If you were a cartoon character steam would be pouring from your ears. “Why would you say something like that?”

Julianne shrugged. “We’ve been telling you to get a boyfriend for so long. You said you’d be gone a week, and then you disappear for three months… that kinda says something, don’t you think, Denise?”

“Definitely.” Denise grinned, and you shot her a helpless look.

“We’re doing this because we love you,” Julianne sang. The light from her laptop was enough to make her look absolutely menacing. “So? Travel buddy? Or more than that?”

The Doctor wasn’t just a travel buddy, and he was so much more than that – but you hadn’t found the words for what he meant to you, at least not yet. Companion was enough for you and him, but even then, there was a weight to that word. And there was definitely a weight to your partnership, but you wouldn’t call it… dating.

Julianne simply waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows at you. You swallowed. You and the Doctor were a long story too, and Julianne wasn’t going to be happy with “maybe” for an answer.

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Fine, he’s my boyfriend!”

I want to crawl into a hole and die was your inner monologue, and your background music was Julianne and Denise’s raucous laughter. I want to crawl into a hole and never have to face the world ever again.

Smash cut to you, standing nervously in your bedroom, gripping your phone so tightly you were sure it was going to break. Your plans of killing the Doctor for dropping you off late would have to wait. The phone rung once, twice, and you chewed your lip. If he was in the Time Vortex, any version of him could answer the phone and you couldn’t deal with that on top of everything, not today at least –

“Hello?”

You heaved a sigh of relief at the sound of the Doctor, your Doctor’s voice. “Help?” you squeaked out.

“Help?” the Doctor repeated. There was a blaring noise, and then the sound of electricity crackling. Something fizzled and popped, and the Doctor shouted something that sounded like a swear. “Oh, shut it – you – sorry, sorry. You were saying?”

“Uh, where are you right now? Are you somewhere?” you asked.

“I’m not somewhere, I’m drifting! Right above Earth, approximately right where you are,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. It quelled your anxiety somewhat. “I’m doing maintenance. Agh – ow! I think I can see the roof of your house through the clouds, unless that’s someone else’s house. What color is your roof?”

You giggled. “It’s brown. You’re in the same time as me?”

“’Course I am,” the Doctor said. You heard the clanging sound of metal being dropped. “I never left.”

The Doctor liked to run off on his own when you were home and have his own mini-adventures. He liked to come back and say he’d spent his time with alien royalty, or something like that. But instead he was staying put, he was waiting, for you. It made the next part so much harder.

“I need you to be my boyfriend,” you said quickly, covering your burning face with your free hand.

“Oh,” the Doctor said simply. Another clang.

Oh? “Just for a day,” you coughed. “I kind of said that I had a boyfriend, and that he was my travel buddy, and now my friends kind of want to meet you. It’s my grade’s family day tomorrow, maybe you could, uh, show up?”

“And be your boyfriend,” the Doctor said.

You nodded, then, “And be my boyfriend. Just for the day. You never have to show up again.”

There was a beat of silence, and for a second you thought the Doctor was going to say no – he had every right to, of course, and you could just lie and say that he couldn’t show up – but the Doctor laughed, cheerful and warm. “Ding-dong! Okay! What time tomorrow? I have to study, I’m a bit rusty in places.”

Your mouth fell open for the second time in twenty-four hours. “You’re serious?”

“Very! Any pet name preferences?”

You groaned loudly, and the Doctor laughed again. “Shut up!”

“Alright, alright. Guess I’ll have to do my own research.”

There was another moment of silence, and when the Doctor spoke again, it was much softer, much less playful. His voice almost sounded fond. “Goodnight?”

“Goodnight, Doctor,” you said softly, and the call cut off with a series of short beeps.

Was it a surprise that you barely slept at all? You had spent the whole night with your imagination running at full capacity, your mind latching onto every single thought and concept it could come up with. You slipped in and out of sleep, lying still in bed whenever a possibility popped into your head. To say you were nervous was the understatement of the year – but what was a little acting between friends?

If friends was the right word for it.

You waited for the Doctor behind the school, leaning against the concrete wall and watching the TARDIS fade into this plane. Wind blew into your face as the TARDIS groaned and wheezed, eventually materializing in front of you.

“I’m not late, am I?” the Doctor said, sticking his head out of the TARDIS doors. He grinned widely, his hair falling into his face. You grinned back at him and pushed yourself off the wall.

“You’re early, which is a first,” you said. The Doctor frowned at you, stepped carefully out of the TARDIS, and frowned some more. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I think I’ve earned the right to look at you however I’d like,” the Doctor huffed, adjusting his bowtie. He’d ditched the tweed for the day, it seemed, going with a long green coat that annoyingly complimented his eyes. The frown didn’t last very long, though, because he went right back to grinning brightly at you. He held out his elbow in your direction. “Shall we?”

“Here’s the lucky girl,” Julianne cooed as you walked into the empty canteen. All the tables were pushed aside to make space for all the games you’d be playing – in the corner of your eye, you saw the Doctor light up at the sight of all of the streamers and balloons. “And here’s the lucky boy – oh my god, Denise.”

“What?” Denise popped up from behind a large speaker, then blanched. “Oh, now I’m double jealous.”

The Doctor pulled away from you to lightly kiss both of Julianne’s cheeks in greeting. Julianne looked positively starstruck when he stepped back to stand beside you, quickly waving Denise over. Denise had her mouth hanging open, still clutching a microphone in her hands.

“Hi,” you said, gesturing at the Doctor, “here’s my boyfriend.”

The Doctor raised his hand and smiled. “Hello! I’m John Smith, lovely to meet you both. You’re my girlfriend’s girl friends, I assume?”

“Uh –” Denise blinked owlishly. “Yeah, we are.” Then, quietly and to herself, “Holy moly.”

You couldn’t help but grin at their flabbergasted faces. The Doctor rested his hand on the small of your back, and you leaned into his touch as if it was the most normal thing in the universe. That was enough to make Denise stumble into Julianne, who barely even reacted, as she was still staring wide-eyed at the both of you.

“I think we caught them off guard,” you said. The Doctor chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“You did when we met, sweetheart,” the Doctor said smoothly. Sweetheart echoed in your ears and bounced off the walls of your already racing mind. Your heart stuttered in your chest. That was bad.

“Oh, are we doing charm now?” you asked. “Are you trying to be charming?”

“I did say I would study,” the Doctor said.

“You guys are insufferable,” Denise said, but she was beaming at you. “If you could get your hands off of your travel buddy for just a few minutes, I need help with the mics, the families are gonna be here any minute…”

Her voice trailed off as she walked back to the speaker. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss the Doctor’s cheek, feeling his skin heat up underneath your lips. “See you later.”

“…See you,” the Doctor echoed, and bent down to kiss your cheek too. He turned on his heel and walked towards the decorations, softly muttering, “Ooh, balloons! Love a good balloon…”

You stared at him for longer than you should have, watching him poke and prod at the balloons lying on the tables. He put his face very close to one and smiled at his reflection in the plastic. Affection welled up in your chest, and a tiny smile slipped onto your face.

“Look at you, you’re smiling at him,” Julianne chimed, sidling up to you and nudging your side. “That’s disgusting.”

“Says the girl who said I needed to get a boyfriend,” you shot back.

The Doctor went still for a little bit and turned to face you, smiled and winked, then went right back to inspecting balloons. Julianne made a strangled noise, and you made one too. So he was doing charm, and you hated to admit that it was absolutely working on you.

“I meant to say disgustingly adorable,” Julianne said. “You’re so lucky.”

You gave him another glance as you walked away to help Denise with the mics – “help with the mics” was apparently code for “I’m going to tease you more about your new boyfriend” which wasn’t helped by the fact that every so often, the Doctor would look in your direction and just smile, which was enough to make you stumble over your own words and give Denise more teasing fodder.

The parents and their kids eventually filed into the canteen and you flipped into Teacher Mode. You stood next to your students, pinched their cheeks and then greeted all of the parents and got everyone ready for the program. (You didn’t notice how the Doctor mirrored you, standing a little far away and watching, a dumb smile on his face.)

Julianne and Denise were the emcees for the family day, big smiles on their faces as they rounded up everyone for the games. At the mere mention of games, the Doctor was back at your side at an instant, his eyes glittering with excitement.

“Please don’t destroy the kids,” you pleaded.

“No promises,” he replied, and then proceeded to destroy the kids in most of the games.

The first game had Julianne call out for whoever could bring an item of her choice to the table – the Doctor, with his coat that was surely bigger on the inside, had no trouble pulling out whatever was asked. Even when Julianne started to test the waters and ask for increasingly insane items, the Doctor just kept going. He jumped in joy like a little kid at the win, bounding up to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You’d just blushed and smiled, ignoring the butterflies that were multiplying in your stomach.

The Doctor holding your hand wasn’t new. The Doctor being close to you wasn’t new. The Doctor being affectionate with you wasn’t new. But now it was all under the guise of being your boyfriend. Of course it felt different, but to your surprise and growing horror, it didn’t feel bad.

The Doctor shouting your name snapped you out of your thoughts. He was standing on a piece of newspaper as Denise started to get music ready, waving his arms to beckon you over. His coat was gone, thrown onto a nearby table, and even without it he was dashing.

“I need you over here!” he yelled, still jumping excitedly. His hair bounced up and down with the movement. “I need a partner!”

You let your feet carry you to him, trying to ignore the stares pointed your way. The Doctor took your hand in his and pulled you onto the newspaper.

“Stay close,” the Doctor said. “I’ve got this.”

Loud, thumping music filled the air. The Doctor spun you around and you squealed in surprise, moving your feet clumsily to the music. Suddenly, it stopped, and the Doctor pulled you back onto the newspaper. It was a tight fit, and you had to press yourself against his body to even stay standing. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy at the contact, and once again you tried to ignore that, too.

“What did I say?” the Doctor breathed, his breath tickling your ear, his smile wide and manic. “Let’s dance!”

The paper got smaller and smaller, and the two of you got closer and closer. Sweat started to bead on your forehead, and the Doctor had rolled his sleeves up in the middle of all the chaos. In the end, it was just you and another pair of parents, tiptoeing on their own folded pieces of newspaper.

“I’ve got an idea,” the Doctor said, his voice loud over the music. “When the music stops, jump into my arms.”

“Seriously?!” you shouted, and the Doctor nodded enthusiastically. “You’ve got the balance of a drunk giraffe! You’ll drop me!”

“Do you trust me?” the Doctor asked.

There wasn’t any question. “I do!”

“Then jump!”

The music stopped, and in the split second where the Doctor stepped onto the now-tiny folded newspaper, you ran and leapt. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to catch you at all, and in your mind you could already see it – you crashing into him and sending you both tumbling to the floor.

The Doctor’s arms shot out and caught you. Cheers erupted from everyone in the canteen, and behind you your competitors both lost their balance and fell face-first onto the floor. You wrapped your arms around the Doctor’s neck to steady yourself in his arms, feeling him shake slightly as he kept you aloft.

“We won!” you gasped, still basking in all of the cheering. “As expected from my lovely boyfriend.”

The words left your mouth as easily as breathing. You smiled up at the Doctor, breathless from all of the dancing. His skin shone with sweat, his hair was a mess, and his bowtie was askew, but even that was enough to make you throw all caution to the wind – still in his arms, you pulled him down and kissed him.

Cheers erupted from everyone again, but you could care less. The room could be empty and nothing would have changed. As cliché as it sounded, all the mattered was the feeling of the Doctor’s lips against yours. Your hands found their way into his hair and he melted into your touch, pulling you closer to him.

“You know,” the Doctor breathed as he pulled away, “I don’t want this to be just for a day.”

“Good,” you replied. You leaned up to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Because I don’t either.”

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #doctor who fanfiction #eleventh doctor fanfiction #oh god i spend too long on the intro for this i'm so sorry

460 notes · View notes

the-shy-fa · 2 years

Note

✔️🔥🌗

Jeez, sorry I missed this! The notifications for inbox messages on mobile have just been sailing right past me for the most part.

✔️ What feedist related kinks (force feeding, vore, inflation, etc) do you enjoy?

Hmm, definitely force feeding, along with like, kidnapping, diet sabotage etc (obvs in fiction or roleplay not IRL, consent is essential).

I like feedism paired with pet play/pig play/hucow stuff where the feedee is treated like either a cherished pet or livestock being fattened up by their doting/remorseless owner. Eating out of a bowl or trough on all fours, having a gain quota to make, etc. Either way it's important that their owner is pleased to see them getting fatter and gets all handsy with them!

Dumbing down paired with getting fatter can be fun too though I wouldn't say it's a major kink and I'd definitely limit it to RP or fiction. I was gonna say "who wants to go through life not being able to think deeply about the world," but then I remembered what the news is like most days... so I'll just say that I don't want to go through life that way.

Basically I really like it when the feedee is having control taken away from them and being fattened up without any real active decision making on their part... for me as a feedee it takes some stress out of the whole business where I feel like people would blame me if they knew I purposely gained weight (which you know, lots to unpack there but that's for a different self-reflective writing exercise). It's hot to have the choice taken away but be rewarded for being lazy and gluttonous anyway (hello anxiety begetting praise kink I guess).

(I mean as a switch I'm also happy being the feeder in most of these scenarios, though I'm not sure I can be as mean to someone else)

Light humiliation and teasing is fun too as long as I know there's actually love behind it.

I like slob stuff (messy eating, being gassy, etc) as a sometimes-thing... I mean I like watching someone eat with abandon and lose control, and subsequently get food all over themselves, and I like acting that out to a certain point, but I have pretty sensitive skin so I definitely would want to clean up before too long if it were me.

On the somewhat more problematic end of things I'm also sometimes into feminization/androgynization of people getting fatter... I like male feedees getting softer and curvier as they gain, dicks getting swallowed by fupas, and a bit of teasing about that stuff, though mostly I think it's just that I like that curvy and soft bodytype more than than dadbod build.

(lol sorry for the novel, I have a lot of subkinks apparently)

🔥 What's your current favorite feedist/weight gain fantasy?

Hmm... I feel like this changes pretty regularly, but at the moment I'm pretty into like being brainwashed/conditioned to think that getting fatter is good for me and being pushed by a feeder to keep piling it on. Just sort of inverse everything about diet culture and being showered with praise for eating more, with maybe a little light gaslighting to make me think I'm still smaller than I actually am as I outgrow clothes and furniture. Reassurance that I'm definitely not too big and am clearly meant to be even bigger. That sounds nice.

🌗 Do you prefer to be a submissive feedee or a dominant feedee?

Definitely submissive. I consider myself a sub-leaning switch I guess, but my brain mostly associates feeder=dom, feedee=sub. Pushing somebody around with my weight or being demanding doesn't appeal as much as them using my weight and helplessness against me ^^.

#me #shy writes #feedist ask meme #my writing

6 notes · View notes

gureishi · 3 years

Note

Okay so umm I actually saw you doing some yoosung prompts so well, I actually have some headcannons, I wont send all of it to you, I am sending you one now

Okay so i have this headcannon on yoosung, i actually thought that because someone wrote a headcannon that yoosung would leave MC if they come out as a trans-man, and they actually believe it, meanwhile yoosung is a certified BI dude (mfker in the recent AE was like 😍😍😍😍😍Saeran😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍)

So the headcannon is that, they BOTH will come out to each other simulatneously, I imagined Yoosung being a closeted bi for a long long time, he didnt just hide it from his family but also from Rika (because sometimes I feel that while he idolised and loved rika truly like his own sibling, somewhere down the line he used to get intimidated when Rika got serious and he thought that rika would hate him too so he just used to shut up) so I am wondering how would the reaction would be.

Its okay if you cant do it

Dirori! Hiiiii! Oh I love this headcanon (and I one hundred percent agree that Yoosung is canonically bi). I mean, if you think about it...every single Mystic Messenger character loves you (desperately), no matter what gender you are. So in a way, they’re all queer.

(Hi I’m Grace and I’m bi and I love writing characters who are bi hello hello have I mentioned that I am bisexual.)

Lol. Help. Ahem. Anyway.

Yoosung reacting to his MC coming out as a trans man

You are Yoosung’s first love. He is head over heels for you from the very first moment he meets you. His “wanting a girlfriend” has absolutely nothing to do with it—he wants you, and only you. It absolutely blows his mind that you feel the same way.

He’s maybe never had anyone come out to him before. In fact, that’s part of the reason he’s so scared to do it, himself: he doesn’t have a great model for these things. Yoosung is nervous about diverging from the expectations that have been set for him; without an example to follow, he’s not quite sure where to even begin.

So he doesn’t know what happening, right away. Maybe you sit him down to tell him, because you’re nervous about it too—or maybe you slide it into the middle of a casual conversation, because it feels easier to do it that way. No matter how you do it, he’s not expecting it.

His beautiful eyes get big. Because you look so happy, as you’re telling him this—a little bit scared, maybe, but happy (you are telling the person you love the most about who you are for the first time, after all). He finds himself grinning—he can’t help it.

He’s bouncing in his seat.

“That’s amazing!” he trills, and you laugh, because you weren’t necessarily expecting such enthusiasm. But you should’ve known—this is Yoosung, and he cares more about your happiness than anything else in the whole world. Of course he’s wiggling in his seat—of course he’s grinning and peppering your face with kisses.

“Oooooh,” he says, catapulting himself into your lap. “Does that mean you’re my boyfriiieend?” You can’t help but laugh at the look on his face: like he’s begging you to pet his head. You do, of course: you ruffle his pretty hair, and he smiles up into your face.

You tell him yes, you’re his boyfriend—you always have been, even if you didn’t say so. The word tastes wonderful in your mouth.

His cheeks are pink.

“Was there something else, sweetheart?” you ask, kissing his adorable nose. He’s practically vibrating. There is, you think: you can tell there are words on the tip of his tongue. You kiss him; that helps.

“I actually always wanted a boyfriend,” he murmurs. You’re puzzled.

“Did you?”

“I wanted a girlfriend, too!” he says in a rush. Now that he’s started, all the words are tumbling out—too fast, and he can’t quite keep up. He gazes at you with helpless, dizzy eyes, and you kiss him again. “I wanted—both. I mean, I want you. But I would want—I mean—do you know what I mean?”

You do know.

“I love you,” you tell him.

He nestles closer, his head on your chest, his arms around your waist. You weave your fingers through his soft, messy hair, and he hums happily.

“Thank you for telling me,” he murmurs, face pressed against your collarbone. “I’m really happy that you did. I wanna be here for you. I wanna give you—I mean.” He looks up and even though you’re indoors, you swear you can see stars in his eyes. “It’s us,” he says quietly. “You and me. Forever. No matter what.”

Oh, you adore him.

You lean in and he closes his eyes, blonde eyelashes fluttering over his flushed cheeks. You kiss both eyelids—then his cheeks—then his perfect pink lips.

“Forever,” you whisper.

#mystic messenger #headcanons #asks #thedanderewearingmegane #yoosung kim #yoosung x reader #thank you so much for sending this in! <3

37 notes · View notes

morwensteelsheen · 3 years

Note

farawyn and borodred for the ship ask game thing?

thank you so much!! :)

okay i’ll start with borodred because for some unfathomable reason i actually got there first —

1. What made you ship it?

One of my favourite Types of ships is the Elder Statesmen Of War-type set-ups, where it’s less about people brought together through theatrical romantic gestures and more about the steadiness of people who are going through similar (immensely difficult) circumstances, who know that in their hearts they’re always going to put their duty to that cause first, but still seek out human comfort in other people who will understand what their priorities are and why.

I think there’s also a lot of similarities about the kind of helplessness they both face despite having this tremendous innate strength. Both of them still have to deal with family dynamics that are complex (made more complex by the war) and that can’t be fixed just by their own sheer will power; both of them die these utterly unnecessary deaths (not that death makes a ship but I think in this instance it actually points to the constant tragedy these guys face); and both of them are meant to be the principal figures of their families and people and are ultimately sidelined by the cruel mechanisations of war and the forward march of history or whatever wanky term there is for it — my apologies to ep thompson's ghost, dont haunt me bro.

Plus there’s obviously the interesting thread raised when Faramir starts bitching about Gondor and likens Gondor (and by very explicit extension, Boromir) to Rohan. That always made me go ‘Hmmmmmm, wonder what else Boromir liked about Rohan,’ lmao.

Anyways for me the ship is the equivalent of Star Wars’ Kanan and Hera or (my OTP to end all others) Luke and Wedge, just people getting by on love and duty and without big ol fancy romance.

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

The fanon, I think, really makes it, as with so many other LOTR ships. battlefield manners, by themightypen is essentially the definitive take for me on them — these two guys who are just so fucking exhausted, man, but still overcome by defensive love for their families, even if their (foster-)siblings are naïve fools. That I just love, love, love. Plus I think they’re unique for their ability to pretty comfortable explore the relationship between Gondor & Rohan in advance of the Ring War without having to stray too far into AU, which I always appreciate.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Not really, tbh, except in that I don’t think Boromir is necessarily as laddy as people like to portray him. I’m happy to play into it in, say, my modern AUs because I think that’s a fun and sweet niche for him, but I am a bit 🤪 about Boromir as this kind of reckless, drunken playboy (not least because I think that’s a much funnier niche for Faramir to fill, at least when he’s younger). Chapter Four of Swaddledog’s Hearts and Minds gets my preferred Boromir characterisation absolutely spot on, I think.

And now, sigh, the ultimate OTP, Farawyn —

1. What made you ship it?

For starters, I think I am obsessed with Éowyn in a way I’ve never quite been obsessed with any other fictional character. I came to reading LOTR at this moment in my life where I was intensely frustrated about everything — trapped inside permanently (helplessly!) because of the pandemic, just starting a new political organisation that I truly believed in but that was still making me feel like shit, facing down an untenable about of work, and, fundamentally, really, really hating being a woman and what that means. And along comes Éowyn, who is bitter, who is cold, who is ANGRY, and who doesn’t perform joy or softness or gentleness just because people expect her to. She’s this seminal Woman Of War in so many ways, I think the kind of person a lot of us wish we could be. She’s got her emotional taps cut off at the source, she holds her head high and faces down unimaginable personal and political terrors, and at the end of it all still has this abiding love for her family that, I would argue, is almost unparalleled by anyone else in the book.

After all that, she gets this incredible moment of emotional catharsis (or what we expect to be emotional catharsis): “no living man am I!” She undertakes THE greatest martial act of the Ring War, and in that moment there’s this unbelievably sophisticated dialogue happening about gender (“Éowyn it was, and Dernhelm also”), and leadership (Merry finding his courage not because of the immediate scenario of the Witch-king, but because he’s spurred into it by Éowyn’s presence), and love and care.

And then we learn that no, actually, this glorious act of violence wasn’t the emotional catharsis we thought it would be. She gets to ride to war, she gets to throw herself headlong at death, and in the end that hopeless act of individualism isn’t really what does it for her. She’s still left desolate and despairing, and actually all of her problems haven’t gone away.

And then we need to rewind a bit, because along comes Faramir, who is gentle, and is kind, and does seem to believe in joy, but not because people expect it — actually it's made abundantly clear nobody expects it — but because it’s something quite innate to how he figures the world. And he’s a huge fucking nerd too. I have a lot of thoughts on Faramir’s flaws and why I find them endearing, which I won’t put here, but almost immediately you get this sense of a guy who’s quite melodramatic, good humoured, and very much not made to live in a time of war.

But he’s also clear-headed about war and what it requires (tactically, if not strategically, though that’s a post for another day), but who is kind of cynical and weary of it in his own unique way. And it’s a unique cynicism given his personal circumstances because he’s the second son of The great family of Gondor, he’s apparently — though with some big ol’ question marks hanging about the extent — very able to command some of the elite units in the realm, and what’s more than that, he’s got all these fantastical powers (the light mind reading to start, to say nothing of this apparently magical ability to command animals too. bruh.). By all accounts he should be this brazen hot mess, but he’s not. He’s desperate to claw his way out of this war-torn cage of expectation his people have for how a man should comport himself in time of war. Is it a little naïve? Sure. A little fussy? Absolutely. But does it point to that same desperation that Éowyn has? Yes! But also the practicality, like, neither of them are really enjoying the circumstances they live under, but good fucking god are they both able to Make It Work.

So finally we get to the Houses of Healing and what is the finest and most aggressively romantic writing of LOTR. Seriously, it’s so fucking much. It’s breathtaking. It reminds me quite viscerally of this fabulous quote from Les Mis:

The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only.

At some point I will devote more time to talking about the two reasons line, and the blissful Queen of Gondor speech, but I think to me that big, important line is: “And then her heart changed, or at least she understood it; and the winter passed, and the sun shone upon her.”

It’s not about Éowyn changing herself entirely (though, I think, it really does bear mentioning that she does change, and that’s every bit as important to understanding that scene as it is romantic), it’s about Éowyn coming to terms with how to live with herself as herself, and how to live in communion with someone else. She can’t just cut people out anymore, and she can’t just treat them as objects of infatuation as she did with Aragorn, she has to reckon with people as they are. And that’s sort of the moment where I knew I was about to plunge fully off the deep end with these two and never know a moments’ peace again, lmao.

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

Someone on here once called Farawyn a love letter to women and, by god, yes, exactly that. I love the capacity for emotional intimacy, that is beautiful in ways I can’t express. To me, though, my favourite thing is the promise of life they speak of. Not as in oh they shag loads and have babies (though not opposed to that, obviously), but in the sense that unlike Aragorn and Arwen, who are always going to be buried under/burdened with the crushing weight of history and tradition, Éowyn and Faramir are going out yonder those hills and they’re going to do some real cottagecore farming shit. Obviously with all the trappings of rank and nobility and whatnot, but they, unique to anybody else in the books, get to sow this new idea of what life should be. They are, outside of Aragorn, the single most powerful people in Gondor. Éowyn’s got the ear of a king, a steward (which is essentially a prime-ministerial deal here), and functionally her own prince (if the hobbits are to be believed when they refer to it as essentially hers). I suspect that, in life, there were remarkably few arguments she wasn’t winning, and that Ithilien probably trended towards the jumped up noble hippie camp Tolkien so desperately wanted Oxford to be (or, in other words — Cambridge, lol).

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Yeah, man, everybody stop treating Faramir like he’s a big fucking crybaby and Éowyn like she’s some kind of shrieking 2010-era tumblr girl.

One of the single most important lines defining Faramir’s character is when Denethor roasts his ass for always trying to appear noble and lordly, if you ignore every other piece of textual evidence we have about him, what part of that line makes you think Faramir’s some simpering daisy? And why would you want to link tremendous emotional intelligence and care with being too limp-wristed to function, lol??? Like I struggle loads with writing Faramir, because I have never once in my life tried to be noble or self-restrained, so find it hard to get into that mindset, but better, I think, to imagine him too closed off than to do this wilting flower song and dance lmao.

And stop making Éowyn out to be this over-emotional angst machine. She’s got problems, yes, and she’s sure as shit got a lot of angst, but at almost every point in the book where we’re overtly dealing with her emotions, she’s sublimating them into something else. One of the most serious times we see her cry is when she’s fighting with Aragorn about riding out, and after that moment she literally tries to kill herself. Those tears aren’t standard, man, that’s a real watershed (lol) moment for her. You have to read around what the text is saying to get a better feel why everybody’s constantly calling her cold and distant.

#god this is probably obnoxiously long because i can't do cuts on my phone #but refuse to open the tumblr website on my laptop lmao #faramir #éowyn #boromir #théodred #farawyn #borodred #god sorry for these fucking tags man im just trying to make my blog slightly more organised #i just have a lot of thoughts #i should really write more metas it would probably help my writing out quite a bit #asks #meta

21 notes · View notes

gt-ridel · 3 years

Text

Several hundred words of Half-Life Borrower!AU goodness

(Hi, this is Passportinspection!) Oooh goodness. I actually started writing this as an ask. I really thought what I had to say would fit into an ask. Since sending that anon about having 350 words of thoughts, I ended up getting distracted for a few hours, and then when I came back to this, I apparently had 400 more words to say. I just love rambling what-ifs about AUs. :’>

Hi Passportinspection! Sorry it took so long to reply to this. I had more work than I thought yesterday. >__< I totally agree! Rambling about what-ifs is WAY more fun than actually writing a story. ;;>__> _

These are… not all A-list ideas, and I was very tempted to cut it down to the best bits, BUT I know that if someone said to me “I had 5 ideas for your au but only told you the 2 good ones” I would be extremely interested in hearing the 3 bad ones anyway, so… here it all is. This was written pretty stream-of-consciousness and then rearranged a bit to form my pinballing thoughts into something a little more linear, but, fair warning, it wasn’t edited much beyond that.

_ Ooo, I absolutely want to hear everything! All ideas, good and bad! Are you kidding? (Gets comfy) _

I keep thinking about the end of that “gordon takes borrower!barney with him through the events of HL1” scenario; Imagining gman’s speech at the end, I like the idea of him saying something like, “As for your.. /passenger/..” and both of their bloods running cold. I can’t decide if I’d rather barney actually go into stasis with gordon or not I think it could be an interesting/cute concept- the idea that gman/his employers figured barney was enough of a factor in gordon’s success that they thought it would be wise to keep them together for future “assignments.”

_ Bro I'll be honest, I hadn't gotten that far in the AU because I still haven't finished the game. My only reference for G-man is Mr. Coolatta. So I'll have to at least look the ending up on youtube before I'll be able to give my informed opinion. But taking it as is? That would be freaking terrifying. They've met some other scientists and security guards during their escape, but the HEV helmet was a perfect hiding place. None of them ever noticed that Gordon wasn't alone. But somehow this reality bending creep knows, and it looks like he's not going to let Barney and Gordon just go home, which was basically what they were fighting for the whole time. _

I’m also thinking about, like.. With Barney in Gordon’s helmet with him, Gordon must be able to feel him tense up and hear his breathing speed up whenever something particularly scary/dangerous happens, maybe even at times faintly feel the fluttering of his heart, and it strengthens his resolve to make it out of there bc it’s not just himself he’s saving. 🥺 Also Barney can provide running commentary, which perhaps soothes both of their nerves a little. Maybe he even helps with some puzzles. :> I also think it’s funny/convenient that that would work really well for an actual video game format. A friend that’s with you wherever you go that sees everything you see but can’t interact with the world but provides commentary and occasional helpful tips? That fits in nicely!

_ Ha! Something I was thinking about was how Barney has spent his whole life living in the vents and such. He would probably be a perfect guide for Gordon. :3 As for Gordon feeling when Barney gets tense or scared and that fuling his drive to escape, that was ABSOLUTELY one of the reasons I wanted Barney in the helmet. It would be uncomfortable, inconvenient, and down right dangerous sometimes. But you cannot deny the unique opportunities for deeper emotional exploration it would present. _

…But also, now that I think about it, maybe there are parts where the only way forward is for Barney to slip through a crack in a blockaded doorway and use a control panel that opens another door- that sort of thing. He gets to help with more than just talking sometimes! :> Oh, dang, imagine the part where gordon gets jumped and almost killed by the military. Poor Barney. D: Maybe a factor in Gordon escaping the trash compactor before it crushes him is Barney frantically trying to wake him up.

_ I was defo hyperfixating on what the whole beat down would be like from Barney's perspective a few days ago! Gordon would be at an extra disadvantage in the fight because he'd have to be careful not to accidentally bash Barney between his skull and the helmet while he's being smacked around. Imagine Barney being tossed all over the small space, maybe ending up pinned when Gordon finally passes out. Noticing when a small stream of blood starts leaking from his friends mouth and soaking into his clothes. Gordon is completely helpless, and so is Barney as he hears the soldiers talking about what they're going to do with the body. I just think that whole scene and the escape from the trash compactor would be so fun and exciting~ -

Also, unrelated, but I wonder how barney would wake up in city 17, if he did go into stasis with gordon. That is, since gordon is wearing a citizen outfit when he comes out of stasis, barney obviously can’t be in the helmet anymore. Maybe gman elects to move barney to a pocket somewhere instead lol. I’m imagining as soon as gordon is released from whatever effect gman had him under and he’s able to move again, he starts patting himself down looking for Barney (the same way one does when they forget which pocket their phone is in ), bc last he knew Barney was right up against his face and now he’s /not/, and that man SAID they’d be “hired” as a team so /where is he/ because Gordon needs to know he’s /okay/. As Barney is released from the same effect, he probably moves and makes himself apparent, so it’s only for like a second that Gordon is doing that.

_ Once again, I can't speak much to what would happen in a HL2 continuation of this story, but that sounds about right for an initial reaction scene. Imagine Barney just coming out of it and being in some sort of... bag? being jostled around? He feels a giant hand pat over him from outside and he grunts in surprise. Then the hand rests against him and Barney realizes he's in a humans breast pocket, being held against someones chest as beside him a thundering heart slowly begins to calm. He figures this must be Gordon. He doesn't KNOW any other humans, and he can't imagine that man in the suit would be all that concerned about Barney's wellbeing. _

Barney doesn’t know where they are/who else is out there at all ‘cause he can’t see from where he is, and Gordon can feel him shifting to lean out of the pocket and get a look, and he just puts a hand over the pocket, covering the opening in the process, and applies a gentle pressure for a couple moments, and Barney knows that means he needs to stay put because it’s not safe to come out yet. Thankfully Barney heard Gman talking to Gordon and addressing him by name, so he doesn’t have to worry about whose pocket he just woke up in. He would probably somewhat recognize Gordon’s gait/the feel of his hands at that point, too. As for how Gordon avoids boarding the train to Nova Prospekt without canon barney there to stop him, I have no idea.

_ YEAAAH that is a good point. Barney is kind of vital for that role. Maybe we can slot a different character into his place. ^__^;; _

Oooh, going back a bit, maybe when the nihilanth is teleporting gordon around in the boss level, or from the very beginning when gordon jumps into the portal to Xen, they get teleported separately and end up in different places? (Ignoring for a moment the parts with portals in Black Mesa ^^;) That sure is an additional level of distress for the both of them during the Big Final Level(s). And then perhaps at the end, part of gman’s speech can be like, “As for your.. companion, you can rest assured he was recovered safe and sssound. After all, you two performed so well, together, it would be ideal to hire you as, a team.” Or whatever

_ Imagine Barney, stranded and alone on Xen, desperately trying to find Gordon, and having his OWN creepy G-man encounter. :U _

Our Barney AUs differ in some exciting ways and it’s fun to play in someone else’s sandbox for a while. :p I’ll probably cut my notes doc down into something readable and post it sometime in the near-ish future.. Either that or actually write the dang fic.

_ I would absolutely LOVE to hear about your AU too! So if you do either of those things, be sure to @ me! Thank you so much for playing in this sandbox with me. I am ALWAY down to talk Borrower AU stuff. It's just so much dang fun! ^0^

#Half-Life #Borrower!AU #Borrower!Barney #Gordon Freeman #Barney Calhoun #G-man

23 notes · View notes

fizzingwizard · 3 years

Text

Last week I mistakenly wrote “episode 41″ instead of “episode 40.” Tried to fix it, not sure if Tumblr let me. Here’s the real episode 41!

We’ve been on a pretty darn good streak lately, but this episode was a miss for me. It’s not terrible - it’s still far and away better than much of what we were getting in the past - so I don’t want to be harsh. It’s a much needed Yamato & Takeru centric episode, which I was excited for.

But one of the weaknesses in this reboot is that the characters just lack the strong motivations and inner conflict that drove the 99 Adventure series. It’s not completely absent, but it’s very dialed back by comparison. So I just couldn’t really feel the brotherly bond this episode wanted me to feel. But more below the cut.

Pic of the week:

Yamato and his gentle face <3

The group is taking another break. I will never get bored of watching them just chill.

Gomamon gives Jou a massage. On the one hand, cute! On the other, wtf? XD I mean wouldn’t that hurt? He has claws

Cutest siblings.

Even though they’re taking a break, Taichi, of course, is too responsible to properly goof off. (99 Taichi would be so freaked out by this kid.) He decides to go scouting and Koushirou offers to go with him. I really hoped we’d see a bit of what they do this episode scattered through the main story, but looks like we’ll get to it next week and I can’tttt waaaaitttt

Speaking of the main story, Yamato and Takeru decide to go gather food.

Who even knows what the other four get up to. Jou and Mimi continuing their break makes sense, but I’m kinda surprised Hikari and Sora didn’t want to join one of the tasks, or do their own. I suppose they know they can’t leave Jou and Mimi unsupervised though hurr hurr

So Takeru and Yamato go to look for food and find themselves surrounded by fog. Suddenly this little guy, Opossomon, pops out. I instantly hate him and his annoying squeaky voice.

Opossomon takes them to his amusement park. He is sad because nobody comes to visit anymore. I figured Takeru would be like AMUSEMENT PARK AMUSEMENT PARK!! but literally all he cares about is “aw, opossomon seems sad, let’s give him what he wants.”

Whoever heard of a kid who wasn’t excited by amusement parks.

Takeru does get a little excited once they enter the park and start going on rides. They get on the ferris wheel - a classic Digimon motif - and the brothers recall going to a theme park with their parents before the divorce. Takeru reminisces happily, but Yamato seems a bit more reserved.

Takeru: Oniichan was scared of the haunted house and wouldn’t go in?

Gabumon: o_O y-you were??

Yamato: o/////////o

seriously Idk, I just love that he’s bothered by ghosts, bahahaha - pretty sure that wasn’t a thing till Tri, unless it happened in a CD drama or novel or something. Anyway it’s just, it’s just so perfect for Yamato, bahahaha

I am absolutely going to write a ficlet about Taichi, Yamato, & the haunted house now

Then there’s this weird bit. They come across a merry-go-round and they remember that, on their family trip, Takeru tried to go on it with Yamato, but Yamato said no and Takeru went with their mom instead. That seems to be the situation but IT’S NEVER EXPLAINED. Why did Yamato not want to go on the merry go round then?? Was there a reason? Or he just didn’t want to at the time, and the reason he regrets it now is because this turned out to be their last family trip and there was never another chance to go on the merry go round together after that? I could totally accept that but it’s not explained in any way.

Unless I totally zoned out... I’m pretty guilty of that with this show lol.

But this is the kind of thing that bugs me... we’re supposed to understand that Yamato, at least, is feeling some kind of melancholy, at least. But we have so little background for it. We know Yamato and Takeru don’t live together and that they care a lot about each other. But we don’t feel the kind of bitterness 99 Yamato had, nor is Takeru anything like as clingy as his 99 version. They seem pretty well adjusted.

And, I mean, that’s probably the point. Plenty of children of divorce are perfectly well adjusted. Maybe that’s the reason the producers didn’t want to be as heavy-handed with the trauma this time - there’s more divorced families than ever and you don’t want to be guilty of suggesting all those kids are messed up because of it. I’m on board with that. But even in 99, the main reason Yamato and Takeru struggled wasn’t because their parents were divorced - it was because the divorced separated them from each other as well. Each parent took one kid. You can see how that would seem practical, except that kids aren’t furniture, you can’t just divide them evenly and call it fair.

So... yeah. This episode seems to want us to believe Yamato and Takeru are indeed struggling over being separated. But it’s so low key. It just doesn’t make sense when in every other interaction they’ve had, they’ve been fine. The only previous sign was Yamato being worried about protecting Takeru when Tokyo was in danger, and anyone would be worried in that situation - you don’t need to be from a divorced family for that lol.

Back to busness - they come across... Xiaomon? Chowmon? who is annoyingly cute and helpless. Turns out, shock! The theme park is a trap! Opossomon is evil!

And he has evil balloons! Evil balloons!

Yamato and Takeru fight the balloons but somehow end up creating more fog and get separated. Previously they’d also realized that their Digivice communication wasn’t working, probably due to the fog. I hope we see more of that in future episodes.

Yamato hears Takeru’s voice coming from within the dreaded haunted house and ventures inside.

Here’s another bit that just left me like uggggh. Yamato is scared of haunted houses, so make it a big deal that he makes himself go in for Takeru! He has like one timid line about and that’s it. There’s no challenge here. There’s no stress. The whole encounter is like a minute long.

He quickly finds out the voice was actually just a mimic coming from these Takeru balloons.

And then Bakemon attacks.

Me: Now something interesting will happen, right??

Yamato: Nope.

Meanwhile, Takeru hears the story about how Opossomon has been luring Digimon into his theme park and then sacrificing them to his Monzaemon statue thing in another weird example of this Digimon-eat-Digimon world we’re in Why Opossomon is doing this, or where Monzaemon came from, is never explained.

Takeru also encounters his dreaded theme park ride, the roller coaster. But Pegasusmon takes care of it in a single attack lol.

He fights his hardest but still can’t prevent his new friend from getting sucked into the void. This was another place where they could’ve stressed Takeru out, but he’s fine.

Ugh, I miss crybaby Takeru. The victories are more powerful when the challenges are steeper, what does this show not get about that?

Monzaemon then becomes WaruMonzaemon, but he seems to be a mindless puppet ordered around by Opossomon. I DON’T GET IT BUT OKAY.

Now Takeru does something really cool! He wants to save the trapped Digimon and he understands they’re inside WaruMonzaemon’s hole. So he willingly goes in himself!

That is SO COOL! Why isn’t it a bigger deal???

Why don’t we get Takeru struggling to muster his courage?

Why don’t we get real fear and worry from Yamato when he sees him go inside??

Yamato runs up right at that moment just in time to watch his brother get swallowed up. HE SHOULD BE OUT OF HIS MIND WITH PANIC.

But he just fights normally. Shouts Takeur’s name, gets a bit of a power boost... that’s it.

Inside WaruMonzaemon, Takeru finds out that the trapped Digimon are having their life energy sucked away by the balloons connected to them.

Then he and Patamon also realize their own energy is draining away thanks to their own balloons.

Yamato finally looks properly concerned, though it’s still like... not at the level the episode needs.

He recalls the family theme park outing again, and apparently he promised Takeru that the next time, they would go on the merry-go-round together. The episode treats this promise like it’s a Big Deal, again without explaining anything like they never got that next time thanks to the divorce, or they’re so lonely being so far apart, or Yamato is obsessed with giving Takeru everything he wants... I don’t. I don’t get it. I can’t be moved by this nonsense.

why a merry go round? Maybe there’s a good reason I’m not thinking of, but I wish it had been the haunted house or the roller coaster. It would make more sense if Takeru were scared of the roller coaster and only wanted to try it if Yamato went with him, but Yamato at the time said no, and thus Takeru didn’t get over his fear and the roller coaster itself played a role in this episode both towards Takeru getting stronger and their brotherly bond getting stronger...

Inside WaruMonzaemon, Takeru gives a speech about HOPE and HOPE IS IMPORTANT and WE MUST NOT LOSE HOPE and the other Digimon are like YES WE HAVE HOPE HERE’S OUR POWER and are able to channel their life energy into Patamon so he can evolve...

... and Angemon appears. And I’m like, oh yeah, this is the Takeru episode. It’s supposed to be his episode. IT DOESN’T FEEL LIKE IT. If anything, up till this point it feels like a Yamato episode.

I mean, in the other episodes, the kids’ Crest traits mattered to various degrees. Sometimes they talked about it in words, sometimes they didn’t so much, but you could see the trait at play (uh, not sure how well that applies to Jou’s case tho...? lol). This episode gets to the very end and is like “Oh yeah by the way Takeru’s trait is hope... forgot to mention it before so lemme mention it ten times in a row now!”

If Takeru had seemed sad, scared, upset - literally any negative emotion - this would have worked, BUT AS USUAL HE’S FINE THE WHOLE TIME.

Angemon wins, duh.

And apparently it’s evening now??? They’re still gonna go get food. By the time they get back the other kids are gonna be like wtf where were you we are STARVING

So yeah, I guess you get the idea of how I feel about this episode. Just nothing special. It’s like a summary of the episode it wanted to be, if you know what I mean. On paper, everything looks fine, but in execution, it’s just... a lot of nothing. I mean compare this to 99 Takeru with DemiDevimon at the theme park. Or how about that fan favorite episode with Gotsumon and Pumpkinmon? Those both kick this out of the water, despite being no more complex.

I just so want this show to understand.... what made 99 Digimon good wasn’t just the monsters and the battle scenes, it was the kids’ relatable flaws and problems and the surprisingly organic way they learned new things and overcame obstacles. Digimon Adventure in 1999 had a way of teaching without preaching that is incredibly rare in children’s media. The modus operandi was pretty much let the kids be kids.

This 2020 reboot is not preachy - but it’s also lacking the stuff that made the 99 show relatable.

However. This wasn’t a terrible episode. At least it gave us some face time between the brothers. I’m frustrated, but I’m still glad that the show has overall been moving in a much more Digimon Adventure-like direction. And who knows what will happen in the end - I plan to rewatch the whole thing after the finale and maybe I’ll discover they were doing something totally different with Yamato and Takeru the whole time that I just didn’t notice, or that wasn’t clear until the very end. We’ll see.

Next week!

My favorite Digimon, Raremon, appears!

More importantly, TAICHI AND KOUSHIROU EPISODE, TAICHI AND KOUSHIROU EPISODE, TAICHI AND KOUSHIROU EPISODE!!!!!!!!!!

like I’m sooooo psyched for this!! I hope it’s good but I’ll just be happy to see the two of them working together. Taichi didn’t appear in the preview though, only MetalGreymon - not sure if that means anything. Regardless, my little Taishiro heart is pounding!

#digimon adventure 2020 #digimon adventure:#digimon psi #digimon adventure reboot #fizz watches digimon 2020 #digimon

16 notes · View notes

obsidianfr3sk · 4 years

Text

Rise of the Renegades (Chapter 7)

Summary: Heroes come from the most unexpected places. Heroes sometimes feel a little too different, a little too scared, a little too alone. But heroes also know when enough is enough, and that before saving the world, they need to save themselves. And they cannot do it alone.

They were going to be the hope of the world. They were going to call themselves the Renegades. Even if they didn’t know it yet.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26246812/chapters/65983648

Alo (? Today’s chapter is up early lol and it’s about Gay-Girl alliance (?

Thanks for the reblogs, comments, nice tags and likes. They help me to keep writing!

Tag list: @nodrianbcyes @healing-winston-pratt @dawniebb @cerenoya @bluraspberryoff-secretary @ marissagustrerbenson

Nothing is better than superheroes

Frankly, I feel insane,

but you say you feel the same,

and suddenly, it’s like, "Hey, I’m not crazy".

Don’t kill me, 'cause I’m just the messenger.

I’ve never seen someone quite this strange before.

You’re just like me, you took all your vitamins.

You’re just like me and you take delight in it.

Georgia

It was very difficult to be in the city at night. There was no light, but she wasn’t sure if it was because almost everyone was sleeping or because there was no electricity in that neighborhood.

Probably the first thing. It was... a little late.

She had forgotten how good it felt to fly.

In the sky, Georgia was free to do as she pleased. She would flip, shout at the top of her lungs, sing old songs that her father had taught her, curse everything she could not curse anywhere else, and laugh for real.

Anarchy was insignificant when seen from above.

Freedom. That was freedom. And what a sweet taste it had.

She wondered if one day, everyone could taste it.

Finally, she arrived. Or so she thought.

She went down in a tailspin and stopped before touching the ground. After looking around, she realized all the windows were closed and the lights were off.

She was safe.

The mailbox of the house at her right had written over it the number 4480. She looked at the notebook again. It said 4491 Atha Drive.

Close.

The street was empty. She kept flying from there, quietly begging that no woke up for a midnight snack and decided to look through the window.

It took longer to think that than to get to 4491. It was a pretty small house, blue on the outside, with the window frames and the door painted white. They also had a mailbox, but Georgia was sure it wasn’t big enough for the notebook to fit there.

That house just felt so full of mystery...

The hell with this. She was going to leave it in his room.

Georgia felt like Santa Claus. Or the tooth fairy. Like she was one of those creatures that only children with a lot of imagination believed in. Though she doubted Hugh E. wasn’t one of those kids.

Hugh

Simon left before the sun went down. His aunt asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner, but he said his little sister was alone in the house and someone needed to take care of her. Hugh decided to go to his room. He wasn’t hungry anyway.

He left his books on the old wooden table that served as his desk. Hugh felt so angry just thinking about his backpack. It was pretty new. His aunt had saved money to buy it for him and even had a key chain made of corkscrew that Sophie had given him as a gift for being her brother’s best friend. He had been so moved by that gesture…

And the bastards had taken it.

That’s right, he said bastards. So what?

Hugh wasn’t scared anymore. When they took his backpack, they also took away his fear. Now, Hugh could only feel anger and helplessness.

If only he had fought a little more, if only he had used his powers for what they really were…

Hugh had always known his powers were dangerous. He was old enough to remember how people talked about prodigies before the Age of Anarchy. Prodigies were freaks. Prodigies were dangerous.

And sometimes those messages made him wonder if that’s why his parents didn’t want him. If it was because they thought he would grow and become a danger to everyone around it.

That is why he had spent his whole life trying to be nice to the world, even if the whole world wasn’t nice to him. He wanted to prove to everyone, even himself, that prodigies were not dangerous. Or not all of them.

He knew that if he had used his powers against those particular villains, it would only make him turn into a villain himself.

And Hugh was not a villain. He was never going to be one.

However, he also knew that if he had used his powers against them, he probably would have found Simon before that freaking kid hurt him.

Hugh would have been there for him.

He fixed his gaze on the superhero drawings he had on the wall. Some were from before the Age of Anarchy. He liked to have them next to the newer ones, to feel good about all the progress he had made.

They always made him feel good but that time, they didn’t. They made him feel like an idiot.

He would never be like them. They took the initiative. They did fight a little more. They were themselves even if others didn’t like it.

They didn’t feel like dangerous freaks because they had never been told they were ones.

Comic book superheroes didn’t have to bottle all the anger fear left when it went away. What could Hugh do with it other than keeping it in the depths of his soul and wait for it to die with him?

He put his hands on one of his drawings.

How easy it’s for you.

Georgia

She stayed a few inches above the ground to not make any noise. They didn’t have a fence. She took it as a good sign.

Maybe you’re welcome here.

Georgia flew into the backyard. There was a square window. She approached to make sure it was a boy’s room.

It was late when she realized that it was, in fact, a boy’s room and that this boy, blond, with glasses and wearing blue pajamas, was still awake.

Hugh

Just as he was beginning to tear the edges of the sheet of paper, a shadow blocked the moonlight that entered his room.

Hugh turned his back.

A woman in white clothes and a yellow jacket floated across his window, looking at him as if she were the one who was surprised by him.

She was hugging a red notebook. His notebook.

He didn’t even notice it was missing.

Hugh opened the window. The woman backed away slightly frightened. However, as soon as she looked into his eyes, she recovered immediately.

She gave him the notebook. There was a piece of paper between its pages. He opened it and realized it was his drawing, but it was no longer broken like the last time he saw it.

The woman had taped it back together with strawberry washi-tape.

He never thought something like this would make him feel almost as happy as his drawings did.

Hugh looked up to thank her and recognized her immediately. It was the girl from the store.

The moonlight made her look like...

There was no other explanation. She just had to be that.

She could not be just a girl.

Georgia

The boy was the first to speak. “Are you an angel?”

Georgia cringed a little. Of course that boy would believe in angels.

She laughed under her breath. “No. I am not.”

He turned his head slightly. “Then what are you?”

And it sounded like he really didn’t understand who or what Georgia was.

It’s okay. I’m also having a hard time understanding who or what are you.

“I am a...”

Georgia began to look for an answer inside her head.

Just invent something, Georgia.

“I am a superhero.”

The boy smiled at her, but not as he had smiled at the Roach that afternoon. It was more like he was smiling at an ally. To an acquaintance. Or an old friend.

It was a prettier smile.

“That’s better. There’s nothing better than superheroes. You know why I know that?”

More mystery.

She shook her head. “Why?”

“Because I am a superhero too.”

Georgia smiled back at him. But of course you’re a prodigy, Hugh E. Of course you are.

She was beginning to understand him. And he seemed to be beginning to understand her, too.

Hugh

It took him a while to remember his manners. “My name is Hugh, by the way,” he said offering his hand.

Don’t squeeze it too hard.

The woman shook his hand. “I know. I saw it in your notebook.”

He felt he was turning a little red, but her nervous laughter calmed him down a bit. “My name is Georgia. Georgia Rawles.”

“How did you find me, Georgia?”

Georgia took the notebook and showed him the inside of the cover. “You wrote your address here.”

“Oh, I see.” He suddenly remembered that day. Simon had been in a particularly good mood. He had liked that. Simon wasn’t always in a good mood. “Maybe I should stop putting my personal information in my notebooks.”

“On the contrary, I think you should do it more often,” she replied. “What’s going to happen when you lose a notebook again?”

He shrugged and laughed.

“Hey. And what’s this comic about?”

At first, he was very surprised that a girl wanted to know what a comic was about. However, he gradually realized that what actually surprised him was that she didn’t read comics.

“You don’t read comics?”

“No. I’m more of a book person. Mysteries, crime novels, and so on.”

“I don’t read,” he confessed.

Georgia thought for a moment. “I think comics count as reading.”

“Do you think so?”

“Yes, I heard it once in class,” she clarified.

Despite the darkness of the night, Hugh noticed that Georgia trembled slightly. That jacket wasn’t protecting her from the October cold at all.

“Do you want to come in?” he asked.

Georgia raised her eyebrows. “Does your mom let you have girls in the room?” she asked with a trembling voice.

“I don’t know what my mom would say, but my aunt is asleep.” He got out of bed to make room for her when it happened. “Come in.”

Georgia suddenly looked slightly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I didn’t remember— I didn’t know about your mom.”

“Ah! No, it’s— Come in, seriously.”

Finally, she agreed to it. The cold got to her. It was all right; he didn’t like the cold either.

Hugh rushed to turn on the light. Georgia closed the window and pulled the curtains.

He immediately regretted not cleaning his room a little better. It wasn’t that messy, but it definitely could be better. Girls were more delicate with that stuff, weren’t they?

At least it wasn’t Simon’s room.

She looked at the drawings and then to her right. “Is that... the comic?” and pointed to a bunch of comics he had on his nightstand.

The comic. He knew what she was talking about.

“That is the one,” he replied. He took it and showed her the broken back cover. “See?” Georgia shuddered. Hugh doubted it was because of the cold, but he asked her anyway, “Would you like me to give you an extra jacket?”

“No, I mean... I’m fine,” she muttered. “It’s just... well, this afternoon was pretty crazy, wasn’t it?”

Pretty crazy didn’t even begin to describe how the afternoon had been.

But Hugh didn’t have the time or the words to explain it to her. He wished he did though.

“It was pretty crazy,” he recognized. “Were you scared?”

She took the comic book and started flipping through it. “But tell me... what are these comics about?”

Hugh sat next to her. “They’re about this guy Aaron who has hydrokinesis-powers.”

“He controls the water?”

“Yep. He is a prodigy. Although they never say that word in the entire comic book.” Georgia nodded, interested in that detail. “And he hides it from everyone. But then one day he goes to the beach, he meets a mysterious old man who gives him a silver spear because he is the chosen one who’ll save the world of the ocean and the land. Wonder Man accepts and every time he takes the spear and says the magic words, the spear gives him a super-suit and his powers become stronger. And all goes well during the first numbers, until at the end of the number before this one—” he raised the comic book over his head “—that old man, who became his tutor, reveals to him something... shocking.”

Hugh went quiet all of a sudden. He forgot he didn’t know if Georgia wanted him to tell her everything or if she was just being nice.

But Georgia looked genuinely intrigued. “What happened?” she asked, frowning. “What was the shocking revelation?”

I can see you like mysteries, lady.

“Ah, well... Wonder Man wasn’t the chosen one,” he replied, raising his feet to the bed. “There are many other people like him all over the world. Only that he was the first to accept the proposal.”

Georgia covered her mouth with one hand. “Wow. Brutal.”

“Yes, he didn’t take it well,” Hugh continued. “He felt betrayed because now there was nothing to make him special. And that made him miserable so he stopped being Wonder Man. But then Ace Anarchy came out of the darkness—”

“Ace Anarchy?” Georgia asked.

She wasn’t confused at all. She was... nervous.

Although less than a normal person would be if they heard that infamous name.

Interesting.

“Yes, the one and only,” he said quietly. “And he went and killed his tutor. Wonder Man found him when he was bleeding out on the floor. His tutor apologized for lying to him.”

“But... why did he lie to him?” she wanted to know. “Why didn’t he tell him the truth from the start?”

Hugh remembered the page number where that happened. He looked for it and read it out loud. “I wanted to know if you had what it took to be a hero, Aaron. I had to know.”

Georgia took the comic.

“And do I?” she asked reading Wonder Man’s dialogue.

Hugh felt chills. That question had felt so real.

He didn’t need to read from the comic book to know what followed that line. “That’s a question you need to answer by yourself, Aaron. Do you have what it takes to be a hero?”

Georgia turned the page and Hugh was able to visualize perfectly what she was seeing because it was something he had seen hundreds of times since he had bought that number.

Wonder Man stood up and came out of the cave where his tutor lived, with his spear covered in the blood. He lifted it to the moon and the waves of the sea began to rise.

“And here it says: 'Yes, I do'” Georgia read. She closed the comic book somewhat violently. “It doesn’t make sense. What a stupid mystery.”

Hugh was slightly offended. Just... slightly . “Why do you say that?”

“How did he know he has what it takes to be a hero?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, shrugging. “He just… knew.”

Georgia sighed. That wasn't the answer she was expecting and Hugh knew it. But he wasn't quite sure what else to say to her.

He supposed they were going to explain it in the next number. Only there was never going to be a next number.

Hugh wasn't going to lie: he felt a little bad that he couldn't give Georgia an explanation. He couldn't even give it to himself.

“How did you know you have what it takes to be a hero?”

He turned to see her. Had he heard her right?

Since Georgia didn't say anything else, he assumed he did.

Yes, he had heard right.

A few hours ago, he would have been more flattered than ever. But in those moments, he just said, “Me? I don't think I am a hero. I think you are though.”

“Me a hero?!” she asked. She also wanted to make sure she was listening well. “Really?”

Well, at least she was flattered “Really!” Hugh assured her. “You came all this way to give me back my notebook, and you fixed my drawing, and you talked to me ... That is pretty heroic.”

“Well, that's funny because... seriously, I think you are the hero here.”

Hugh was still asking the same question. “But why?”

“You stood up to those villains this afternoon!” Georgia exclaimed pointing at him. “You were the only one who said no to them and who wasn’t scared of them at all. That is pretty heroic.”

Hugh was overcome by the urge to smile. Georgia smiled more, showing that she wasn't backing off her words.

Well… he had to admit that maybe there was something heroic about what he had done, even if it didn’t go the way he wanted.

However, he couldn't take all the credit.

“Maybe we're both heroic.”

“You think so?”

Was she starting to stop believing it?

Not on my watch.

"I think so," he replied, grabbing his pillow and putting it on his lap. Distracted, he began to fiddle with the thread from his gray-striped sheath. “I have a friend. He's pretty heroic too. It’s just that… he can’t see himself as such.”

But I believe in him for both of us.

“I get that friend of yours,” she replied. “Sometimes things are not that simple. I also have a friend who doesn’t see herself the way I see her.”

“As someone heroic?” he wanted to know.

Georgia thought about it for a bit and then just smiled. “Yeah, let's put it that way.”

He wondered if it would be wise to ask her a little more about it but immediately imagined Simon next to him kicking him to shut him up in the most discreet way he could think of.

“Do you know if he beat Ace Anarchy in the end?” she asked.

Hugh shook his head with an apologetic smile. Although he knew it wasn't his fault he couldn't beat him.

The only one responsible for Wonder Man not being able to defeat Ace Anarchy… was Ace Anarchy himself.

“I imagined it, ” Georgia murmured. “But—”

She bit her lip before finishing the sentence.

Do you want to say what I think you want to say?

He moved a little closer to her. “But what?”

Georgia looked him straight in the eye. She had a huge hopeful smile when she asked:

“But what if we did?”

Thinking about it was one thing.

But hearing someone else say it, with the same desire to believe it as him, was something a thousand times better.

He threw the pillow on the floor and took Georgia by the shoulders. “That was exactly what I was gonna say!” he exclaimed.

He immediately reminded himself to lower his voice. He didn't want to wake his aunt up.

Hugh removed his hands from Georgia's shoulders and hid them behind him. Georgia was kind of amused.

She stifled her laughter with her hand. “Jinx,” and she offered him her pinky.

Hugh found that gesture adorable. Girls are really nice. “Jinx,” and laced his pinky through hers. “No, but seriously, do you really think so?”

He just wanted to make sure one last time. Just one last time before he completely believed in her.

She got serious again. “I want to believe someone has to do something about it,” she sighed. “And I am tired of never being that someone. I want to be that someone. I want to do something about it.”

Yes. Yes to everything you say, Georgia. It is true.

I also think that.

“Me too, Georgia, me too!” he exclaimed, putting his hand on her fist. “Georgia, I also want to be that someone! We could be that someone! The three of us!”

Her smile didn't fade, but it tensed a bit. “Three?”

“My friend. I'm including my friend,” he explained.

Georgia relaxed. “Oh sure, sure. Okay, but we're going to be four because I'm including my friend too.”

“Perfect! The more the merrier.”

And he meant it.

Four prodigies against Ace Anarchy.

Suddenly, things didn't look so complicated.

“So… are you saying we can like… get together here to plan our next move against this cruel world?” Georgia asked him.

Hugh was about to say "yes" when he remembered his aunt. If she found four people gathered in her living room, Hugh would have to give a lot of explanations that he wasn't prepared to give.

Hello, aunt, we are planning to destroy the status quo.

She would surely laugh at them, tell them to stop trying to be heroes, and kick out Simon, Georgia, and their friend. And Hugh would never get the chance to be a hero again.

He loved his family very much. But he couldn't risk his chance like that.

Someday he was going to tell her. However, for the moment it was better to keep the secret.

He could keep a secret.

But then where are we going to meet?

A light bulb went on above his head.

That place was perfect.

“Yes, we’re getting together to plan our next move against this cruel world,” he replied, getting off the bed. "Just not here”

He took a pen and tore a page out of his notebook. Georgia tried to look over her shoulder as he wrote down an address. Then it occurred to him that perhaps he could give her a… little gift.

To thank her for returning his things.

He drew a quick doodle of Wonder Man smiling at them, doing finger guns with one hand and holding the silver spear in the other. A text bubble came out of his mouth, asking them: "Do you have what it takes to be a hero?"

Hugh knew they did.

Even if he wasn't sure what it was.

He quickly wrote “This Friday, 6:30 am” and handed the folded paper to Georgia. “4480 Atha Drive,” she read. “It's pretty close from here.”

"Yeah, it's my friend's address,” he answered. “I bet he won’t mind. His dad leaves his house before we go to school. So we’ll be safe.”

Georgia stared at the paper, looking at it a little… worried. “Hugh... you are going to be there, aren't you?”

Hugh scoffed. “Why wouldn't I?”

She shrugged.

“Would you like a guarantee? Because… Look—” he took his blue hoodie from over the chair and handed it to her “—my favorite and only hoodie. It is very warm, although it does not seem like it. Maybe more than yours. Put it on, and that way you won't get a cold when you get home. You can return it to me when we meet again.”

Georgia put it on. It fitted her perfectly. “How chivalrous of you,” she said. “I'll give back to you on Friday then.”

“Friday will be.”

On Friday. Everything was going to change on Friday.

Everything was finally going to change.

Georgia stood up and floated to the window. Hugh stared at her from his bed.

“Hey,” he called her. When she turned around, he offered her his pinky. “We're going to be heroes, lady. I believe in us.”

Before leaving, Georgia laced her pinky through his, looking at their joined hands as if they were the most precious thing in the world. “I believe in us too, captain. I believe in us too.”

And how good it felt to have someone by his side that believe in them as much as he did.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #renegades trilogy #georgia rawles #hugh everhart #OG renegades #rise of the renegades #ao3 #fic #the gays and the girls are going to change the world

11 notes · View notes

surrealsunday · 4 years

Note

Hey remember i said i was gonna re-read mood tattoo knowing the full story and see how it feels. Well surprise i am. 😄 i'm reading chapter 1 and need some writers notes. 🗒 so the club scene still confuses me; Eliott senses Lucas wasn't happy when he stormed off over Anna being all into Eliott. Eliott follows and catches Moreau with Lucas. Lucas runs after Eliott and begins "thank you" then crap hits the fan 💥 what the hell was going on? Lucas wipes his mouth so there was a kiss? 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️

🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️ Moreau was at the club (stalking) Or did Lucas meet him? Was Lucas pretending to be into Moreau, hence the kiss? Or was Moreau molesting helpless Lucas? Did Eliott really see what we think he saw or is he an unreliable narrator? I'm gonna have more questions so i hope i don't annoy. I just love your insight 👉👈but that club scene fascinates me and not just Moreau. Be back.🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️

🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️ hi 😊 ok 1 thing i love early on here (Ch1) is how self aware Eliott is. And i think that is very true to canon Eliott too. I mean POLARIS is full of self reflection considering it's about Eliott's deeply rooted fears/insecurities connected to his mental illness. Eliott is very aware of what he's doing (self sabotage/stagnancy). He may be flighty and run but he knows what he's running from.👏👑 And here Eliott acknowledges what's really bothering him. He's jealous.🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️

🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️ and ouch "Everything i've achieved is my own, whatever step up you think you have, it won't matter, it won't make you better" and knowing that Lucas got that help in medical school. It's reminiscent of Lucas carelessly generalising mental illness in S3 to Eliott. And it hurts.🔪 because it came from Eliott's jealousy (he rejects me and yet doctor Moreau is ok) i'm torn here because Lucas is really hard to like the way he comes off as so defensive and insecure with Eliott but🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️

🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️ Eliott is an absolute dumbass for how he acts here. Like i get it, we'd probably misconstrue the situation too but i wanna throttle them both at different times in the club. 😠 Lucas the most though as he takes everything Eliott says and twists it. Eliott wants him and is flirting = "oh so you think cause i'm gay you can have me?" I mean wtf Lucas. And then with the bartender "oh so you're offering your cast offs?" He's looking for a fight and fixated on Eliott's looks. Poor Eli 🤸‍♀️

🤸‍♀️ and at the same time it's obvious he's so damn jealous of Anna. What the hell is Eliott thinking? It's like whiplash with Lucas 😄 i did love the tension that you created when they were at the table before bas soaked Lucas's pants. 🍻 that heat and total awareness of being in each others periphery. I mean Lucas there as Eliott is blatantly staring giving zero f's 🤗 but that's true to canon with Elu too. 👏 i got shivers at Eliott's blantant desire for Lucas. You are damn good. 👑 🤸‍♀️

🤸‍♀️ and the way he was cataloguing him. And then Lucas locks eyes with him? I need to know what's going through Lucas's mind there? Also something i only picked up on re-reading; Eliott being playful with Idriss at the hospital desk and then realising Lucas was waiting for him further down leaning on the wall. Meaning Lucas saw all that and Lucas is having an Anna situation right? 😤 but Eliott thinks that Lucas is annoyed at having to be held up. Does Lucas think Eliott is a f boi? 🤸‍♀️

🤸‍♀️ onto supporting characters. Ok 1 of the things i love about your fics is how engaging everyone is. Sometimes it's like skim skim skim to get to Elu interacting but here the laughing, dumbassery and fun reading this world is 🙌 i loved them meeting at the club and bantering. Emma is goals and Idriss is 👑 the various relationships are entertaining and i love Eliott/Idriss broship. I love Mika and Lucas's vibe "f off Mika" "ok kitten" 😅 and i even love anna too. You = 🏆 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️

🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️ ok last one. I'm sorry. This is what happens when i lurk. 😥 i spew my thoughts at you. 🗣 i have to talk about the unique immersion with the social media. Your choices are 👏 i mean Lucas and Bas looking like they're at the coat check of a club. Bas 🥵 for Eliott in the club with Maxence model eye f-king the camera. Sexy Anna. I laugh, have eye candy (surgeon Eliott hello 🥰) but it deepens the story. All fics should now have social media. It is law. ⚖ ok CH2 here i come 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️

Heyyyyy!!! I’m sorry it took me a while to get back to you. I had to be in the right mind frame to talk Mood Tattoo and apparently my brain needed a bit of a break in the end lol.

You’ve read the full story right - like the final chapters? Just don’t want to spoil anything. But you said re-read, so I’m assuming you’ve read the final chapters! Spoilers ahead of course!

So as for the club scene and what exactly happened. Lucas explains this in chapter 10. Basically Moreau is there drinking with other surgeons, sees Lucas and follows him to the bathroom. Moreau is drunk and being super handsy and Lucas is just desperate for no one to see them together which is why he pulls him into the private room. Eliott is indeed a bit of an unreliable narrator - but not so much as him completely seeing something that didn’t happen. He sees Moreau having pressed Lucas up against the wall and kissing him. That happened - it just wasn’t quite as passionate and ‘lovers-esque’ as Eliott sees it. Lucas mentions at the end of the story that he doesn’t really know why he couldn’t push Moreau away. This was my way of acknowledging the complexity of being a victim in an ongoing situation like Moreau and Lucas’s (where Lucas had been groomed as a child). It’s not always going to be as simple as Lucas being able to say no and forcefully push Moreau away. At that point in the story especially, Lucas is very much still under a certain level of control by Moreau. He wants to break from it but he hasn’t totally been able to do so yet. Lucas says ‘thank you’ because Eliott provides the interruption and distraction that is enough for Lucas to have an excuse to get away - again because he struggles a lot with how to handle the situation and be assertive/ say no (none of that making him any less of a victim though).

I agree about Eliott too. He does react ‘from the gut’ quite a bit in canon too, but he always seemed to have those moments of self-actualization and reflection. I liked showing a bit of the back and forth between him acting one way, even as he’s very aware of why he’s doing so and that it’s not the best move.

I so agree with your feelings about Eliott and Lucas in the bar scenes. Eliott is absolutely horrible with he catches Lucas and Moreau, but I was committed to showing both of them not necessarily at their best that night. Lucas is angry - at himself - and desperately looking for reasons not to like Eliott (to make rejected him easier). Ironically you have Lucas doing so by verbally stating all sorts of unflattering assumptions about Eliott - when really Lucas doesn’t believe any of them for a moment. Then you have Eliott making a very big assumption about Lucas at the end - and Eliott does believe it. It’s messy messy messy.

When Eliott is just staring at Lucas at the table - that is definitely what Lucas refers to later in the final chapters when he says ‘the way you were looking at me, I don’t even think you realized’ and Eliott is like ‘oh I realized’. Lucas definitely gets that Eliott wants him, but the intensity that comes with Eliott just being... Eliott... is for sure something Lucas wasn’t prepared for. And no matter how hard he was telling himself ‘this isn’t happening, you’re not fucking things up by hooking up with this guy’ it was still very hard for him not to return the look when Eliott’s eyes were on him.

Lucas doesn’t so much think Eliott is a fuck boy (or actually messing around with Idriss). He just thinks Eliott sleeps with a lot of different people and doesn’t take any of it all that seriously. Lucas’s jealous little spasm over Idriss (lol) was really just a gut reaction he couldn’t control hehe.

And thank you so much! I honestly am thrilled when readers say they like all the little extra scenes and tidbits with other characters too. I never really know what those dynamics will be like until I write and it’s always a wonderful surprise for me too. And I’m such a visual person that adding in the social media is just as much fun for me! I love knowing what they look like in certain scenes and getting to share that with all of you!

Thank you so very much for sending your thoughts! This was too much fun to read and answer. 💕💕💕💕💕

#mood tattoo fic #mood tattoo chapter 1 #long post

9 notes · View notes

spinelwritings · 4 years

Note

First off,let me tell you,your writing is amazing,now I would like to request spinel with an s/o who gets shattered,I need me some angst BoI,(if you're not comfortable doing it that's fine)

Thanks! And I love writing angst, so I was always going to write this lol

------------------------------------------------You weren’t really a good fighter, was never fond of it. When the other gems sparred with each other and taught each other, you stayed on the sidelines, happy just to watch.

Now you wished you had bothered to learn something. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel so helpless, the large quartz standing over you with a smirk, her weapon, a big, ugly looking sword, in her hand. Spinel and Steven were in a similar situation, facing down even more gems. You didn’t know why you were fighting or why they were so angry. All you knew was that there was no way you would make it out of this unscathed.

The gem lifted her sword high above her head with a laugh, swinging it down. You only just managed to move out of the way, stumbling back and managing not to fall on your but. Fear clawed at your chest, but you kept moving, trying to figure out what you were supposed to do. How were you supposed to fight someone like this. Think think! What did you see the others do?

You managed to dodge another attack, stumbling forward, when you felt something hit your back, sending you sprawling onto the ground. You winced, rushing to get back to your feet but the gem slammed their foot onto her back, forcing her back down with a yelp. You struggled to get out, the gem laughing above you.

“Not much of a fighter, are you? Too bad.”

You froze when you felt the sword on your back, digging in painfully, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Spinel!”

The last thing you heard was the pink Gem yelling your name before you poofed, your form going out in cloud of smoke.

Spinel spotted you just before your form gave in, saw your gem fall to the ground and get picked up by the quartz, a glint in her eyes as her fist tightened. Panic and fear gripped her chest. She growled, poofing the gem in front of her by wrapping her limbs around them and squeezing. In a moment she was by the large quartz, lashing out at her and forcing her back. The gem just laughed, jumping back to dodge her, your gem still held firmly in her hand.

“Let her go!”

“What, you mean this?” She tossed your gem and caught it, laughing in the pink gem’s face. “Stars, she didn’t even put up a fight. What a worthless gem she must have been.”

Spinel’s hands began to shake, rage bubbling at the center of her form. She clutched them into fists, charging at the quartz to punch her in the face. How dare she talk about you like that! How dare she lay a hand on you, to hurt you! And Spinel was much faster than the gem but that did little to help when she would just laugh it off. But she kept going, trying desperately to get your gem out of her hand. She just wanted to make sure you were safe.

But even if she was fast, she wasn’t fast enough.

“Come on, give me a good fight!” The quartz roared, swiping at Spinel who dodged to the side, getting a hit on the gem’s side that barely phased her. “Bring it on! Or do you need some encouragement?”

And the gem smirked a terrible smirk, hand outstretched with your gem like she was showing it off. And then it seemed like the whole world slowed done and Spinel could only watch in shock and horror as the gem tightened her grip, your gem cracking, the sound louder than anything she had heard before.

But that was nothing compared to the sound of your gem being shattered. The shards rain down, shimmering in the sunlight. Spinel felt some part of herself shatter with you and she couldn’t really remember what happened next. Everything just went red and there was a horrible scream, unbelievable loud, filled with so much pain, loss, and rage, more than she had ever heard before.

When she came back to herself she felt numb, empty. Steven was there, holding her back from … something, an odd look on his face. In front of you, laying on the ground, was a gem, the quartz’s, and she wanted to shatter her. She wanted to shatter that gem. But Steven held her fast.

“Spinel …” He said in a soft voice. “Enough, you got them.”

And he was right. All the attacking gems had been poofed, laying on the ground, and in the middle of them all…

She felt the pain return, but this time there was no rage to distract her, no enemies to take her emotions out on. It was just her, broken and lost and your shattered pieces.

She fell to her knees, screamed without making a sound. It was too much, it was all too much. It was like something was tearing her apart from the inside, not just her body but her mind too. And your shards glittered on the ground, mocking her. She couldn’t comprehend it, couldn’t handle it. The edges of her mind started fizzling, her form struggled to stay together. She heard Steven yell before her form gave out completely.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Spinel wasn’t the same after that. She couldn’t be the same, not when you were gone.

Your shards were bubbled and put in the temple. All but one. That shard she kept close to herself, brought it everywhere with her. She just… she needed something! Some sort of reminder that you were there, that you existed.

She started avoiding people more and more. She just didn’t feel up to dealing with people. She was too tired.

She spent a lot of time just walking, usually in the woods where she knew she wouldn’t run into anyone. She distracted herself by picking out all the individual sounds, like the rustling of the leaves, the chatter of squirrels, or the singing birds. It helped her not think, at least for a little bit.

When night came, she would walk through the quiet town and sit on the cliff with the lighthouse, the one that overlooked the sea. This was your favorite spot. You always liked watching the sun rise over the water. The thought would always leave an aching emptiness deep inside her. She tried not to cry but almost always failed.

It was one of those nights. She was trying to be quiet but the tears poured down her cheeks and dripped into the grass below her. She didn’t notice someone approaching her until a hand was put on her shoulder, making her tense.

“Go away.” Her voice came out raspy and quiet. Her request went ignored and the gem sat beside her. It was Garnet. She wasn’t wearing her visor, a rather sad look in her eyes. Spinel tried to ignore her.

For a long while, neither moved or spoke, just sat next to each other silently. It took a while before Spinel admitted to herself that the company was actually pretty nice. She hadn’t realized how lonely she had gotten, spending all that time alone.

Finally, Garnet spoke up.

“It’s going to get easier.”

Spinel shook her head, looking up at the taller gem with pain and desperation clear on her face.

“When? When does it stop hurting?”

Garnet sighed, putting a hand on the other gems shoulder and when she spoke it was with a soft voice.

“The pain never goes away. You just learn how to handle it until it starts to fade.”

Spinel sniffed, looking back out to the ocean.

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“The first step is to get support from your friends. We’re all here for you, Spinel. We want to help.”

They continued to sit in silence for quite some time. Spinel tried to think, to get through the fog of pain and decipher what Garnet was telling her. She sighed, a sad little smile on her face.

“Okay. Thanks, Garnet.”

And she did feel a little better.

92 notes · View notes

levyfiles · 4 years

Note

helloooo!!!! since you are my fave blog about shyan content, i must ask: what are your favorite fics???

AHhh! I–OK well, Lately I’ve been finding more and more fics that fill my heart right up with every gorgeous headcanon there is, but If we’re talking all-time favourites, I have finally compiled a List from the moment I started reading shyan fic in 2018 of fics that have ruined my life; all of them here in no particular order.

Be All My Sins Remembered by spoopyy

Summary: In every lifetime, they find each other.

Review: This fic manages to take you on a long journey through what feels like a series of AUs and they all weave in and out of the wealth of their relationship with some vivid descriptions of the historical settings their journey takes them through. As someone who grew up reading Anne Rice’s epics through historical events, this fic is right up my alley. A vampire Shane passing through the wave of human society’s climb searching for a reincarnated Ryan again and again, trying to hold on to him and keep him through great tragedies and timeframes that just don’t let them be together. This was one of the first fics I read when I was only a lurker and to be quite honest, I need to give this one a nice re-read, maybe for the book club which would be loads of fun. Either way, 10/10. Would be Hurt in the heart again.

Perfect Fit by @beaniegara

Summary: There’s a legend that says anyone able to take all of statue Shane’s cock will summon the god to the mortal realm. Given the statue’s excessive size, no one has ever succeeded to prove or disprove the story.Until Ryan that is.

Review: Listen. You wanna talk actual fandom legends. This fic is one of them and it pulls out all the stops on being delicious and evocative. Also features one of my favourite incarnations of size queen bergara. Good stuff and you’re really rooting for Ryan in this lol.

Everything’s Weird and We’re Always in Danger by the beethechange

Summary: Ryan perches on the edge of the bed, an indistinct shape that Shane can only just make out in the dark, so he turns the lamp back on. He wants to see Ryan’s face, wants to know that he is alright. Ryan’s cheeks are damp, his hands fisted in the hideous flowered duvet.

“It won’t go away,” Ryan says miserably. “I’ve been like this since we got here, basically, and it won’t fucking—”

“Ah,” Shane says. “Well, you know, sometimes fear…adrenaline…they can affect people. Physically.” He waves his hands indistinctly crotchward. “It’s a, a scientifically known phenomenon.” Shane feels a little better staying in the realm of scientifically known phenomena.

Review: Word of advice. You see a fic is authored by beethechange, run don’t walk because you’re absolutely always going to be treated to the best of banter, the best of prose, chemistry, organic execution and feels right up the bottom end of your heart. This fic, this changed everything I thought I knew I wanted out of a bed-sharing fic. It’s got a little bit of two treats here. You got a sex-pollen-esque situation mixed with bed-sharing and holy fucking damn that is more than you think you deserve, but read this because you do deserve the best of the best. The build up, the dialogue, the surprisingly hilarity of it, the hotness woah, and The Aftermath. When you think you know what you’re in for, you’re wrong and you’re most pleasantly surprised. Get this fic in your life and honestly? while you’re at it, you could do a clean sweep of every fic in her list of works and while my less than adequate reading time management may still be short on some of her most well-recommended pieces, I have an adamant faith that Bee doesn’t disappoint. Go get y’all juice.

Maelstrom by thewindupbird

Summary: Here’s the thing about driving halfway across the country to see someone. You can’t really deny, after that, that you’re pretty much head over heels for them.

Review: Listen. One morning on a day off, I just laid in bed and read this– all 40k+ words– while lying there clutching my pillows, hurting and loving every moment of it. The descriptions of Americana, the slow steady metronome rhythm of Ryan’s feelings as frightened and helpless as they feel when you’re relating deeply to them juxtaposed with the deep-seated struggle of understanding what it is to be with someone you love so much but your mental health is burning quiet holes in your ability to express it in a way that can be understand. Ryan’s fierce determination, breaking through the silence of their non communication is really Everything to me in this fic. i think I really left my heart in the scene in Shane’s parents kitchen. That finished me. Read this fic and understand the deep relief you get when you’ve finished a fight with someone you fiercely care about and they understand you and you understand them and it’s OK; it’s gonna be all right. Augh.

A Burial on Box Hill by InkStainsOnMyHands

Summary: The Celtics believed that the yew flower symbolized both immortality and death. Meanwhile, for centuries, the buxus flower was seen as a symbol for safe passage into the afterlife.

Or,Shane and Ryan were never the same after investigating the Black Forest of Germany alone.

Review: Let me just quote my bookmark comment here. Usually I flee from tragedy like a cat spotting a cucumber but the brevity and the prose dragged me in and now I’m a functioning mess. Bless this fic. Oh my god it’s short and reads like one of those quick horror stories you’ll read to your friends just as the scary stories are transitioning from the urban legends to the ones that feel real. Big warning for main character death but still read it if you appreciate a good story told.

Body Farming by shiphitsthefan

Summary: Failed suppressants and a surprise heat: the worst of cliches, and here Ryan stands, living the trope on location with the alpha he’s hopelessly in love with. Even worse, they’re spending the night in the famous Bell Witch Cave, completely alone and with no way to contact the outside world.

Ryan knows he can survive and keep his preheat a secret, as long as Shane will stop being so protective and concerned. After all, it’s not like Shane wants to bond with him.

Right?

Review: Now judging from the reactions of many people I’ve spoken to, big heavy ABO kink is not popular here but guys, GUYS. This one. Let this one in I promise it is not what you think it is. The dynamic is organic and the worst side of the trope is subverted in all the best ways and lord help us, the smut is hot, like swelteringly smoking. It’ll stay with you.

Believer by cellard00rs

Summary: Some demons and otherworldly creatures love climbing up the power ladder. Shane is not one of these. He likes where he is (thank you very much) and has no interest in moving up. All he wants is to give his friend Ryan a nice birthday gift. So, naturally, everything goes to hell.

Review: This fic is another fandom legend. When I think demon!Shane. It’s this and one other one that always pops right into my mind. This was my first exposure to the bureaucracy meets the supernatural!Shane trope and I was sold from the get-go. The Shane in this fic is everything I imagine a demon!Shane is and his ginger care for Ryan, the concept of their bond and how even though Shane is a demon and responsible for keeping the supernatural a firm secret from Ryan and the rest of the world, his skepticism is relayed through his status as a demon. I want to talk more about it but I think so much of the enjoyment comes from the surprises as the plot unfurls.

Heartbeat by quackers

Summary: So the guy Ryan sits next to at work is a vampire. That’s no big deal, right?

Review: I could talk your literal ear off about this fic. Vampires, man. I love the trope; you don’t know me as a person if you don’t know this at least. And this fic kept me fed all damn year. It was a readable garden. If there is one thing I can guarantee about quackers’ work, it’s that their world-building is a festival of detail. The realms and alternate universes they work with while still managing to keep Shane and Ryan’s voices so familiar and real is a talent not attributed to your everyday author. This fic propelled me into wanting to write more and more because quackers makes stories so much fun! Reading their work is, to me, not unlike the feeling I got when I was younger and finding series that speak to my need to escape this crummy existence, made me want to believe in fun spicy things like a vampire that lived through centuries, cynical but still searching, navigating a world where people are still people, adjusting to differences and prejudices, finding comfort in a guy that understands that and more. I’ve talked about this fic in more than a few different posts so I’d just be reiterating a lot of things I loved about the more historical aspects of Shane’s journey, the way Ryan is so firmly curious and inventive in ways to connect with Shane. Look, even if vampires aren’t your thing, I can promise that if you visit quackers list of work, you will find something for your supernatural-lovin’ palate that speaks to a gentler side of your own curiosity about monsters and the jocks that love them. lol.

I’ll Crawl Home by carrieonfighting

Summary: “Shane was almost unnerved by how quickly he’d settled into this body, this name, this life - his friendship with Ryan was the most time he’d spent with any human before, and yet the man fascinated him.”

Review: This is the second fic I think of when someone says the words ‘demon!Shane’ to me because ohhhh my word, this fic is a masterpiece. I really am hard pressed to find anything better than the feeling I get when I think of demon!Shane headcanons interwoven with the irl Buzzfeed reality and the idea of the Ryan as we know him being protected and watched and loved so deeply by a demon that found him so long ago and wanted nothing but to protect him. I feel an almost vicious glee reliving that moment when Ryan and Shane are on goatman’s bridge and man, I just really love canonical fic mixed with a slight twist. The writing in this makes it work so well with lines that still haunt my heart and soul like “Ryan liked popcorn. So did the demon. Genuinely, not just out of a desire to please the human – he liked the way it crunched between his vessel’s teeth. There were some aspects of taking a corporeal form that were…nice; laughing, coffee, feeling warm. Ryan made him laugh.” FUCK! The beautiful agony of it, watching the demon fall in love with Ryan through the eyes of his vessel. Just stark with pain and unspoken, well-written angst and pain with a perfect ending, I wouldn’t change for anything. I love this for us as a fandom and will always love that author crafted this piece and shared it with us. (Also every time I hear Work Song by Hozier, I think of this fic again and sigh).

Like I said at the beginning, thanks to @skepticbeliever-bookclub I’ve been discovering and re-discovering some fics I hadn’t had the chance to read and or have never even heard of before and my bookmarks list is growing with each new week. So if you get through this list and need more in your life, here you go. Every fic in my bookmarks deserves the community’s attention. If I can just make one special request of you guys? If you do happen to click any of these and enjoy what you read, please take the time and tell the author what you loved about it. It really changes the game out here for fanworks and fan-creators like you wouldn’t even believe and the people who shared these works with us worked hard to make the stories what they are and put a great deal of emotional investment in sharing it. Share more than your silence in return.

Hope you find something you like here, nonnybabe..

#shyan fic #shyan #skeptic believer #recs #love tag #Anonybae

121 notes · View notes

saratour · 4 years

Text

Don’t give up love yet!

This was written for @cevansgirl writing challenge. Thanks for hosting this and getting myself into writing again.

A/N: It’s technically already the 2nd December but as long as I haven’t slept it isn’ the next day. So I still made it in time... kinda lol... I changed the whole fic in the last hour because I wasn’t happy with the beginning. I was only content with the ending so now the ending is the new beginning and I think that is kinda poetic.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: You were done with love, after several attempts at a relationship you came to the conclusion that love wasn’t just something you’ll get in this life. You made your peace with it but it seems like destiny had other plans for you.

Type: one-shot

Prompt: I don’t want to be in love, but you’re making me.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: uncertain feelings, open end

“Do you think I want that? I was happy! I made peace with it… but now?” you threw your hands in the air. A variety of emotions flashed over your face – anger, frustration, uncertainty, fear and… hope. “Argh! I don’t want to be in love, but you’re making me!” you almost screamed at Chris, letting him look at you all baffled. There it was! ‘Great work, (Y/N)’, you scolded yourself. Now you wouldn’t be able to get back to what you had. ‘As if you could’, snorted a small voice inside you. You felt helpless and lost. This whole situation got quite out of hand.

Chris was still trying to comprehend it all. His brows were knitted together tightly and his forehead was crinkled. “(Y/N), I had no idea…” You stopped him midsentence with a raised hand. “Don’t Chris, don’t make it any harder than it already is.” A sad smile appeared on your features and you turned your back to him. “I guess that’s it, huh.” Tears threatened to fall but you held them back. One mindless moment shattered years of perfect friendship. But what a cliché you were, falling in love with your best friend.

Your feet were taking you away without a conscious thought, faster and faster and just before you realized it, you were running from him. His callings became distant rather fast. He didn’t follow you and maybe that hurt more than if he actually tried to stop you from running away. Why did you have to realize your feelings when it was already too late. All those years you wasted. Buried the butterflies under false pretenses. You angrily whipped away the now falling tears. Sadness and frustration dominated inside you now. You wanted to hate him, be mad at him, blame him. Anything to help distract you from your own mistake. But the truth was, you couldn’t because you knew Chris did nothing wrong. You were to blame – in every way. First, you developed feelings towards him and afraid as you were, you pushed them deep down until he met someone else. Second, you were a bad best friend for not feeling happy for him. He deserved to be happy. Chris was caring, gentle, thoughtful, funny, beautiful inside and out and he deserved the world. Pity that his world was not you. The tears had stopped and with no particular goal in mind, you wandered around the busy streets, people passing you by, giving you nothing but a mere glance or a raised eyebrow. The big city, the anonymity you always appreciated left you with an unpleasant feeling of loneliness. You needed someone to tell you that everything would be alright, that you would get over your feelings, someone to hug you tight and block out the world for just a moment. But the irony was, that the only one capable of doing that was the one who caused everything in the first place.

You were so occupied with your pain and thoughts that you bumped into two girls coming out of the nearest shop entrance. After apologizing, you just stopped and for the first time after that horrible encounter, you noticed your surroundings. All the noises, the smells and the cold December air hitting your senses at once. It made you feel dizzy and you needed to steady yourself with one hand at the shop window. With an aching heart, you looked skywards. It was dark and cloudy, the night sky as black as your mood. Suddenly you felt something touch your face, it was a delicate contact. It was soft and cold first but then it changed into something wet. Fairly quickly you realized that it had started snowing.

The soft flakes falling silently down to earth. In awe, you held out your hand and caught a few. They immediately melted away, forming small trickles on your skin. ‘How tragic’ you thought, they were born in the clouds and descended this long way down and for what? Just to vanish after a few seconds? “Beautiful, isn’t it?” You looked up from your hand. An old man was smiling fondly while watching the snowflakes fall. He was quite stout with a round face and a big pug nose. He reminded you of your first Santa Clause in the shopping mall. “More like tragic”, you mumbled under your breath but the old man caught it nevertheless. “In a rather dark mood, aren’t we?” He chuckled with a deep, booming voice. His gaze lingered on you with a soft expression before he looked up again. Something in the way he looked at you made you feel at ease. “You could see their short existence as tragic, sure. But I like to think that they are happy.” You looked at him with a baffled look. Knowingly and with a warm twinkle in his eyes he continued. “They are born in the clouds high above our heads. Wondering what it’s like down here. We must look like little ants from up above.” Again a deep chuckle. “So they wonder and admire us from afar until they fall. They cover fields, meadows, streets, cars, and people. They turn our grey everyday life into something white and magical.” He smiled gently and you could see that he truly believed what he told you. “Look”, the old man pointed to a group of kids who were dancing happily under the falling snow. Their laughter and joy was somewhat contagious. All the adults around them who were passing by smiled and you could see love and happiness in their faces. Even their posture changed, their walk was a little lighter and the slumped shoulders were lifted. “All the joyful laughter and fond smiles are their reward. All the love going around is their gratification.” The warm and deep voice reminded you gently. You watched those kids a while longer, a small smile curled your lips to your surprise. You thought you had forgotten how to do that. “Don’t give up love yet, (Y/N). It’s Christmas after all.” At these words, you tore your gaze away from the kids and wanted to ask the man where he got your name but he was gone by the time you turned your head. In the same place, you glanced into two beautiful and oh so familiar orbs.

“Hey”, Chris huffed and the word formed a small cloud in the cold air. “Hey”, you replied with the same tenderness. You shouldn't feel so happy that he found you, but the almost dead butterflies in your stomach fluttered lightly, awoken by the huffed greeting. You bit your lip and drenched your hand, not knowing how to react and what to say. You wanted to apologize, to tell him to forget everything you said tonight but as soon as you opened your mouth you were stopped. Chris wrapped his strong arms around you and hugged you tight. With a strangled sob you closed your eyes, tears stinging in the corners. He held onto you for a long time, people passing you by complaining under their breath that you’re in the way and the snow covering the two of you like a blanket. And that was how you felt. Wrapped under a warm blanket that blocked out the world and the difficult reality. You sniffled and slowly broke apart from Chris. You couldn’t help but stare into his mesmerizing eyes, trying to read what was on his mind. He smiled at you, a warm and understanding smile. A promise to help sort out this mess. Chris rested his forehead on yours.

“So I’m making you being in love, eh?”

“Oh, don’t bring it up again!” You cringed and tried to look away but he held your gaze.

“Hear me out, (Y/N), please.” He was still so unbelievably close. His breath fanned over your face, warm in the cold night air. Normally you were fine with this closeness but today it made you blush and the presumed dead butterflies buzzed happily.

“You are such a strong and independent woman. You always take what you want and you never complain about anything – except for when there is no ice cream in the fridge” You both chuckled at that but his look turned serious quickly after the small outburst.

“I knew that you thought that love wasn’t an option anymore. That Mr. Right would never show up… That a happy relationship just wasn’t in the cards for you.”

He sighed and while bringing a bit of distance between you, he cupped your face. His hands were freezing but that wasn’t the reason you shivered. His intense look made your stomach drop and your heart flutter. You never had seen him so stern and determined.

“(Y/N), I hate to tell you that, but you’re wrong. I can see that know. You always take what you want and by some weird miracle you want me.” He snorted. “I am no Mr. Right nor perfect but I am here for you, always have been always will be.”

You couldn’t trust your ears, what was Chris trying to tell you? He was in a relationship but now he was telling you that he would be what? Your Not-Mr. Right? Your head started to spin and you shifted uncomfortably in his embrace.

“But what? … I don’t understand, Chris. What about Becca?”

He released your cheeks but still hold onto your hands caressing them with his thumps.

“That wasn’t real. We both weren’t fully in it from the start. You could say she was a distraction for me as much as I was for her. I am not so strong-willed as you are, cupcake. I knew that you were done with love and so I…”

You couldn’t take it anymore, all these crazy feelings that made no sense made you act out of your way. Before you fully realized it, you crushed your lips on his, shutting him up in the best way possible.

Chris was surprised by your sudden action but it only took seconds for him to kiss you back. Now wrapping his arms tightly around you once more. You still needed to sort out your feelings and you should definitely talk about all this, preferably not in the cold but that could wait. For now all that mattered was, that you didn’t give up love after all.

#cevansgirl writing challenge #chris evans x reader #prompt

97 notes · View notes

katsukiboom · 5 years

Note

Hi !! New here, could you please do a scenario with izuku or shoto with 27, 28, and 41 ?? Please and thank you so much

ohgodohgodohgod i feel like i fucked up but i had s o much fun writing this !!!!! i went with Shouto since i feel like i have way too little content about him on the blog, so i hope you like this my dude!

an: this is a fantasy!au with vampirism that isn’t actually vampirism... i’m not entirely sure where the idea came from lol

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He asked you to look at him, but youcouldn’t do it.

You weren’t sure if it was truly his voicecalling, but you wanted to look at him, if anything so your eyes could tell himeverything you hadn’t been able to.

Everything hurt, everything was spinning aroundyou and there was a faint whisper in your mind that told you time and timeagain to be careful, but you wouldn’t pay any attention to it over the painthat numbed your senses until you blacked out.

And just like that the pain was gone in aninstant, yet it took you two full days to recover.

Unfamiliar yet pleasant surroundings werethe first things you noticed when you woke up in a bed that wasn’t your ownthat afternoon, the warmth of the sun entering through the window and hittingyour skin, feeling like nothing but a distant caress – the bed sheets wrappedaround you like a cocoon and made you feel welcomed while you took in the roomyou were currently in. The beige that decorated everything was nice and calmingand there was a slight scent of cinnamon that covered the place, and it allfelt just… right, somehow.

That should’ve been the first warning butyou didn’t even think about it until you heard something – the sound of deadleaves being stomped on and laughter, and you looked around to see if there wasanything on like a radio or a TV, but there were no electronics around thatcould’ve let out that kind of noise. Gulping as you sat up on the bed, you madesure there was nothing else that could’ve made any sound before you carefullyuncovered your lower body and were partly shocked to see your legs slightlybruised.

You wondered what had truly happened; yourmemories were hazy and everything felt like a blur that stained most of yourmind, but when you got up you couldn’t help but think that something was off. Walking to the window on thefarthest wall of the room was an experience to say the least since your legsfelt like giving in at any point, but when you reached it you almost gasped outloud – there were three kids playing with dried leaves on their backyard abouttwo houses away, but for some reason you could hear them very clearly andalmost like they were right in that room with you and it frightened you beyondbelief. “What the fuck?” you asked loudly, just as the door behind you opened gently,the soft creak reaching your ears and making you turn around with confusionwritten all over your face.

Ah, there he was.

Soft eyes looked at you hidden behind astrand of dual-coloured hair and a small smile decorated his round face, makinghim appear even tinier than he already seemed and making your heart beat a bitfaster and your lips curl into a smile of their own. There were a few bruises onhis cheeks and neck but nothing you needed to be afraid of you thought, sinceif they had been dangerous to him you knew the first thing he would’ve done wasto cover them up. “I see you’re finally up,” Shouto muttered in a volume thatunder another circumstances would’ve required you to ask him to repeat himself.“I didn’t expect that to be so quick,” he added as you took in his appearance.

Pale skin slightly flushed, it seemed likehe had just come out of the shower given the fact that all that covered hisbody was a grey robe, his chest visible just enough to make you feel flusteredand light-headed as well – you had always loved how he looked so casual yetamazing, but the way he closed himself off from the world sometimes made youfeel like you weren’t his partner but rather an outsider, someone who had justno idea how to help with his issues. “Shou,” you whispered using the nicknameyou had given him back in high school, “what is going on? Where are we?” Hisright hand went to his nape and he scratched it as he seemed to think of whatto reply to that, but you were not in a position where you could be patient andyour smile soon faded away. “Shouto, the last things I fucking remember arebeing attacked on the streets and your voice calling out to me, and then I wakeup in a strange room being able to hear things that are a fucking mile away,”you started, growing more and more frustrated with each word. “What in hellhappened to me?”

“Look, I know you’re confused,” he tried toexplain, his heterochromatic eyes locked on yours yet you couldn’t make outwhat was going on behind them, “and you have every right to be, but just let mebe clear on one thing – if I hadn’t done what I did you would not be here right now and I… couldn’thave handled that.”

“What?” you were truly puzzled at his wordsand even if you tried to make some sense out of them you knew you’d fail. “Whatare you even talking about?”

Shouto took a deep breath and slowlywhispered, “I had to turn you.”

You were far too puzzled to even react –there was nothing in your mind that made you understand what he was saying but somehowit felt correct, and you absentmindedly clenched your fists to the sides ofyour body. The only times you’d ever heard that kind of sentence was in sci-fior even horror movies, but that meant something that could not be possible inreal life… was it? “Excuse me? What do you mean you had to turn me? What are we now, in a goddamn movie?”

“You were hit by a car a few days back,” hestarted to explain, making your head hurt with each memory he recalled. “We hada date, remember? At that new restaurant you wanted to try; we were on our wayback and we were arguing over some stupid shit I can’t even remember right nowwhen you tried to get away from me and cross to the other side of the street,and I couldn’t do anything… I felt helpless. I felt like a coward, and thereare many things you still don’t know about me but I couldn’t tell you before.I’ll take the chance if I have to.”

In just a moment you were in front of him,hand on his throat and anger invading you; how you had been so fast youcouldn’t understand. You loved him but if what he was saying were true, thenthere was no reason to believe you were the same as just last week. “What haveyou done to me?” you were sure you were fuming but not about how he saw youthen, or if he was the same as you.

“Check yourself out on the mirror,” hesaid, pointing faintly at a door on the other side of the room, where he hadcome out of; “Don’t be afraid ofwhat looks back at you.” You were cautious when you turned back to him and youdropped your hand to the side, walking backwards until establishing a nicedistance from him and then turning once more to the door in question.

When you opened it the most luxuriousbathroom you had ever been in welcomed you, and you noticed the small traces ofsteam that lingered in the closed room and the familiar scent of Shouto’scologne that you hadn’t realized he was wearing. It almost made you smile againuntil you remembered what you were there for – warily walking to the sink, youkept your gaze on the floor until you reached it and then gathered all yourcourage to look up, but you were so reluctant to know that you closed your eyesright before you could see your reflection. Whateverhappens, you told yourself, it’ll allbe fine.

And so you opened your eyes.

At first it seemed like nothing wasdifferent until you noticed: there was a half-moon shaped scar fading on thebase of your neck, white as could be, and your eyes looked like they had nevergleamed more. If you looked closely you could see a slight tint of red mixingwith your own eye colour, and you wanted to laugh at what seemed to be the mostridiculous, improbable yet certain thing that was now happening to you. It allseemed to fit like a puzzle and you gripped the ceramic sink tightly only tofeel it being crushed down under your touch, your strength multiplied but you weren’tsure how much. You were shaking as you walked back, looking at your hands likethey were something foreign to your body, and the way your skin paled incomparison to the colour you remembered it was scared you beyond belief.

Your back hit something sturdy and for amoment you thought it had been the wall but when two arms wrapped around yourform and making you cross your own you took a deep breath, trying your best tokeep the tears concealed. “How did you do it?” you asked sadly, and you felthim sighing against your hair as he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head.“What exactly am I now?”

“I have been like this for at least twoyears now,” he explained, his hands caressing your forearms with such delicacyyou were sure you’d break any moment. “Someone with some kind of vampirismQuirk helped me when I had that big fight a few years back, remember?” Howcould you not? Shouto had been the centre of every news outlet back when he hadhis biggest confrontation with one of the worst villains in all of Japan twoyears ago – he had been so badly hurt he had to stay in the hospital for onewhole month, and when the doctors told you there would be no visits allowed youwere certain he was on the verge of life and death. But one day he came back toyou in one piece, and you should’ve noted by then that there was somethingwrong with the way he had healed so quickly, but you were so ecstatic to havehim back that you couldn’t even think about it. “It was one of the doctors;faces before waking up again are still blurry to me though. I would’ve died ifit wasn’t for that.” You couldn’t look at him directly and you could tell hewas extremely sorry for doing what he did, but you needed to know, you needed tomake sure what would happen next.

“Is it like what the movies show?”

“Not at all,” he explained as he pulledaway and then grabbed your hand, leading you back to the bedroom and sitting onthe bed, waiting for you to do the same. His hand never left yours. “The doctorexplained that there would be no actual signs of me wanting to drink anyone’sblood, so I’m not sure how feeding works that way – I’m still feeling like aregular human, just with heightened senses and slowed aging. Healing is alsoquicker than in most people, but that’s pretty much all I know. I’ve beentrying to gather more information but it’s hard to find people who have it andare willing to talk about it.” You wanted to ask if he had tried talking to theperson who ‘turned’ him but when you opened your mouth to say something hepulled you in for a hug, one that felt way too soft. “Don’t hate me for doingwhat I did, please. I couldn’t afford to lose you – I care about you so much, you’re the reason why I’ve been able tokeep going all these years. I love you and want to protect you for as long as I’maround.”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, youmuttered, “I love you too Shou,” and little by little his presence becamebigger than the fear that still plagued your mind, yet you were determined tohelp him do the research in case therewas a way to turn things around if you ever felt like it. “You’ll have to helpme get used to this then,” you said and followed it with a little laugh, whichhe mimicked. “I’m still not sure about this whole deal, it’s… too sudden.”

“I know, but I’ll be here to help you,” hereplied and then laid down on the bed, pulling you with him. Under the mellowafternoon sunlight that brightened the room he seemed almost ethereal, and itmade you gulp a bit as your chest felt filled with butterflies. His handreached up to your face and cupped your cheek, and as you leaned against histouch he gave you a half smile with a sultry gaze. “You look absolutelygorgeous like this,” he added and you hit his chest with what you thought hadbeen moderate strength, but when he coughed a little you hesitated a bit untilhe started laughing out loud. “Now that’s my fucking baby!”

“Oh, shut up and kiss me you absolute fool,” you said as you closed the distancebetween you with a gentle peck on the lips, soon to evolve into something more.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #boku no hero scenarios #boku no hero imagines #mha #my hero academia #mha scenarios #mha imagines #my hero academia scenarios #my hero academia imagines #shouto todoroki #todoroki shoto #todoroki shouto #mine #Anonymous

26 notes · View notes

captain-azoren · 5 years

Text

I’m Getting Married! & Why I Write

First off, thanks to anyone who’s ever liked or reblogged any of the content I’ve made in the past month or so dedicated to this absurd little crossover ship. Every little bit motivates me. I realize I don’t exactly have a big following, but nonetheless I wanted to get this out there and now I feel confident enough to talk about it.

In a little while, I’ll be traveling to literally the other side of the planet to marry my fiancee, a woman I’ve been in a long distance relationship for over a decade now. She means the world to me, and finally getting to spend the rest of my life with her is a dream come true.

That we stayed faithful to each other for so long despite the distance and all the hardships makes me feel like, as sappy as this sounds, that we really are soulmates and this was destined. As the date kept drawing nearer, I thought more and more about this, and I wanted to find a way to express how I felt about this to others. That’s where my story White Knight, Red Queen comes in, a love story about two people who find each other despite coming from two whole different universes. Why I chose Azula and Soren in particular...

First, just to be clear, my fiancee and I are not like Azula and Soren. I am a lot smarter and much more reserved in person than Soren, and my fiancee is very sweet and has none of Azula’s smug attitude. I will say though that Soren is one of my favorite archetypes and I wish I was more extroverted, and I think my fiancee is the most beautiful, smartest, perfect girl in the world who doesn’t settle for less than what she deserves and I love her for it.

Now, I chose these two characters from these two series for multiple reasons that go way back. My fiancee and I actually met through an Avatar the Last Airbender fansite, so we have a special connection to it, even if we aren’t as big of fans as we used to be. As for Dragon Prince, the two of us got to go to our first San Diego Comic Con last year, where we got to attend the Avatar Legacy Panel and then The Dragon Prince premiere panel that came right after. Now TDP is a little special to me as well because of that.

Why Azula and Soren specifically; honestly, I just happened to be really into these two at the time. Weird thing is, I used to dislike both of these characters while simultaneously wanting to like them; when I first watched Book 2, I thought Azula was too much of a smug jerk for me to like despite how cool she could be. She seemed too invincible and too mean to Zuko, whom I heavily identified with at the time due to a lot of issues I was going through (I was trying too hard to impress people who didn’t deserve my admiration. Glad I met my fiancee when I did). I thought Soren was too much of a dumb jock after I initially thought he’d be my favorite.

Things changed though. Azula’s scenes in The Beach and then her breakdown finally made me feel sympathy for her, but it really wasn’t until this year when I started reading analyses of her character did I really come to understand Azula, and Ehasz saying he wanted to give her a redemption arc got my mind going. With my new perspective on Azula, in some ways I can identify with how she felt. As for Soren, his crisis at the end of s2 won me over, and I came to appreciate the goofiness and humor he brought, letting me re-contextualize his character in a way I could enjoy.

Because I just happened to be digging into these two at the same time, it got me thinking and I decided to create this blog as a little joke. I actually really enjoy crossover ships, having once participated in a big crossover RP with my fiancee where that was a thing. The more I thought about it though, the more I started to like the idea of Azula/Soren, and from there it got me thinking about doing a story.

ATLA and TDP share quite a few talent and staff, so a crossover between the two feels particularly natural, having similar writing and art style and even voice actors on top of Ehasz being a major creative force. Blending the two worlds together was not too much of a stretch. On top of that, doing this story actually lets me use a bunch of stuff I’ve wanted to write about for a long time, but could never craft a good plot for, namely a knight teaming up with a magic wielding princess, who are from two different worlds/cultures.

Being from two different worlds is where the inspiration from my own love life comes in. I wanted to write about how two different people, through a series of random events leading to a chance encounter, meet each other. They form a bond, one that never breaks no matter how far apart they’re pulled from each other, one that is everlasting. That is why it’s important that my story is a crossover, because Azula and Soren come from not just different places within the same fictional universe, but from two completely different universes altogether. They couldn’t be together.

In my most recent chapter of White Knight, Red Queen I wrote a dream sequence where one character (Soren) sees another character (it’s Azula) crying, but he’s unable to reach her; he’s blocked by a glass barrier, and can only watch and listen as she weeps. I wrote this to reflect my own feelings of being so distant from my fiancee for so long, and feeling so miserable and helpless whenever I was unable to comfort her properly when she was sad or upset. All I could do was look at her and try to use my words; being unable to just pull her close to me and hug her, unable to make her feel better, that’s torture, and I’m glad that barrier will be gone.

Themes of abandonment and undying loyalty are what I really want to examine with my story, as they’re what I’m familiar with, and with Azula and Soren I’ve found a way to do that, as they deal with these themes in different ways. For a while I thought I was going to live the rest of my life alone and unloved, but I took a chance to tell my future fiancee how I felt despite how scared I was of being hurt. She was one of the few friends I had left, and I was so afraid that I would drive her away like I did to others, but she stuck by me, she gave me a chance, and she gave me hope. I’m never letting that go, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life giving my heart to her for saving me.

And if all that sounds really sappy, and it does, well, we also both find each other really hot, and Azula and Soren are both attractive, so there you go lol. My fiancee is my dream girl and this silly little blog and fanfic are just one big love letter to her. Besides, writing feels way more fun and productive than getting angry at video games.

#REAL TALK #MARRIAGE #White Knight Red Queen #analysis #soren #azula #tdp soren #tdp #atla #the dragon prince #avatar #avatar the last airbender #If you're reading this I love you #you are my everything

8 notes · View notes

honmakurara · 5 years

Text

Gr8est full Osaka report

Yeah I know I’m (several months) late in writing this report, but:

1) DVD & Blu-Ray are up so I'd honestly love to read the opinion of more and more eighters about this con;

2) the truth is that the Gr8est concerts I attended in Osaka last August left me a bit shaken, for I think it was impossible not to deal with a eighter's feeling, after all.Anyway, since 2018 has gone, 2019 has started and maybe (maybe) I'm coping slightly better with my "Subaru feels", I feel like I can now write down a more relaxed report. Let's try, at least!

I feel very grateful I am in this fandom. Thanks to awesome Eighters I met back in Rotterdam for Misono Universe preview, I was able to attend Gr8est concert twice in Osaka last August. Since 2018 has been a terrible year for Eito, I deeply wished I could go and cheer for them live, but due to various constraints + the fact that I literally live on the other end of the world, I could not take it for granted, not at all. Still, I hoped. And that's why I deeply appreciate the effort and the exquisite kidness of people who allowed me to be there; more than anything else, even more than the concert itself, I have to say this gentleness touched me very, very deeply. Thanks to this, I met new Eighters and I'm, like... in love with them already. Both Eito & Eighters. I really hope I can go back to Japan and meet them again, one day. As for what the concert itself is concerned, to be honest, rather than a full report, at first I thought I was okay with writing just a quick report about how Eito members are handling this Gr8est Tour (that you will find HERE as "6nin eito, musically speaking").I made also another quick post HERE, right after the con.But as day, weeks and months passed by, I thought it was better to write down my personal memories because... they fade. So, sorry if you're going to read quite a messy, random and biased "report"... that's it! A creepy baby voice belonging to an animated Gr8est Baby (lol) introduces the concert... (I do actually wonder to whom that voice belongs... too creepy XD) BAND SESSION: Just like in Jam, the ouverture of the concert has been given to MUSIC (and I like it, because it ROCKS). Just like the mention written on the Tshirt tour "we'll make you forget it with our rock." Exactly. 1. Otou Seyo: unpopular opinion... I didn't like this song. Yeah, it was band-like even in the PV but, I don't know... I couldn't find anything special about it. Anything worth remembering/singing. Well, this tour definitely made me COMPLETELY change my mind (and I like it very much when the brats that Eito are DO that... it's so much like them, making people fall for their every work sooner or later. We are doomed XD)This song was (is) perfect: sung and played like never before, I'd say, strong and powerful and amazing. Everyone sang very focused-like, and above all I can still remember the strength of Ohkura's drums, its sound dominated (very beautifully, very impressively) every. other. sound. I swear. It was incredible to hear, to the point I can still feel its echo even now. I'm sure the DVD will also give justice to the beauty that is this song.If I have to say, I'd say that Eito started this con with a real blast! In between the two songs, Ryo made his initial speech. Very long, straightforward and even cute. He did refer to Subaru and to Eito's will of going on. Gosh, I wanted to hug him. He looked incredibly cool, tender and sweet at the same time. Yeah I know he's a good actor (thus pretty convincing), so it's not like we know how he truly felt like during that moment, but... I want to believe in what he said, being happy and eager to enjoy Eito+Eighters time together. Also, maybe it was just my impression, but it seemed to me like they took "longer pauses" between one song and another, during the band session (while in JAM it was one right after another). Maybe this was also made "for Yasu's sake" in order to let him recover better (or maybe I'm wrong... I just noticed these pauses were quite longer than last year). 2. Koko ni shikanai keshiki: SO GREAT. I'm very very happy this song was in the setlist because I've always, always loved it. It's also very nice for "opening" a concert after Ryo's speech. Oh, and btw during this song Ryo was amazing. 3. Noroshi: another unpopular opinion, I don't like this song. It never grew on me despite all the times they performed it during concerts since winter Eightertainment, on television and so on. Yeah, the PV is pretty cool, and also the lyrics. But it's not King of Otoko to me, I can't help it. Just like Oto Seyo, though, I changed idea after hearing it at this concert. I don't know exactly what's different from before, maybe it's the way Eito seemed to pour all their will power into this song... it turned out great, anyway. I also thought I would have missed Subaru's vocals here but, luckily, I didn't (which is something. Sasuga Eito). 4. Itta Janai ka: Aww, cuties! don't ask me whether they changed lyrics during their solo parts in this song, because I have no idea, I couldn't catch their words XD (I do remember Eighters laughed and cheered for them, anyway XD) What I can remember is also that the stage started moving forward, "Jukebox-like", and this is so freaking cool. Technically speaking I loved that choice in Jukebox because, I mean, can you imagine having to shift a whole band of people with a whole set of electronic instruments while singing and playing o_O? Exactly. I loved it! 5. Nagurigaki Beat: a song that grew on me slowly but steadily. I had the impression the dome was particularly "on fire" during this song, or maybe it was just me XD 6. Kokoro Sora Moyou: I've liked this song for so long that I was almost "surprised" it could be part of the setlist (when, unfortunately, Tsuyoku Tsuyoku Tsuyoku did not make it...) . It was soooooo lovely to hear. 7. Heavenly Psycho: okay, now, the feels and the confession. As far as I never liked the original song (with Uchi's presence... sorry, he's not my cup of tea) and I never really understood why Eito are so fond of this, I came to fall deeply in love with its "updated version" they sang during Genki con/DVD. I cried a river because it was too beautiful and because Ohkura was not there (being ill in the hospital). Hearing it live, OMG, I think I froze. To the point I didn't manage to enjoy it as I wished (yeah I know it's stupid but this was what happened), on my first day. The following day I felt better and I started crying when they played it, so I think I'm helpless XD 8. BJ: I'm deeply in love with this song, but I was so nervous during Heavenly Psycho that when I first heard the beginning of this song, I didn't even recognize it. Then, half of my mind went "OMG they're playing this one right after HP, they want me dead" and the other half was "mind going blank." Also, Ohkura's voice faltered during his lines (that I AM IN LOVE WITH), so... ç_ç I know it's not Ohkura's fault, but my heart clenched in pain with him during this song. Same as HP, the following day I cried a river. 9. Zukkoke Otokomichi: this song belongs to Yoko fully XD It's all I can remember about it, with Yoko taking the lead and being basically everywhere during the song (it's probably not like this, but my biased mind is... biased XD). Oww I loved it sooo much, the "sped-up" version is so freakin' cool!!! 10. Musekinin Hero: by this time, if I remember well, the moving stage had gone back to its original place, while my poor feelings had not, especially when Ryo decided to go around here and there and everywhere while playing the guitar Anyway I don't think I have mentioned so far how badass Yasu was while playing, during EACH of the band songs XD It was a pleasure to see he was able to move freely and more. Also there was a time during one of the first songs (KNSKeshiki?) when he joined Maru's spot and Ryo did the same and omg they played in circle facing each other and it was just too cool! 11. Life: oh this is so tough. What this song means to both Eito and Eighters, both before Subaru's departure and after that. I really hoped they would include this one in the setlist because it's, like, some kind of identity card of who they are, what they could achieve, what they can aim for, the way they've always struggled to see the light, the way they've never given up. Never ever. This song is precious and carries a deep meaning, but also a sort of "burden", I think, after it was the last one they sang with Subaru (with Ryo finally crying out his pain). Re-starting as Eito had to pass through this (and go on through Koko Ni), so even if they didn't play it flawless (Maru is a bit unsure sometimes, vocally speaking, when playing Subaru's lines, and Ohkura was really struggling to sing properly -I don't think I'll ever forget his bent head while singing-), it was too precious and I cried. I wanted to sing it along with them, but I had to stop midway because my eyes were so teary I wasn't able to see nor the boys nor the big screens anymore. So, well... I'm very happy that this song keeps staying by their side always. 12. Omoidama: other tears, okay. Maybe I remember very badly but for this song, Eito stood up and sang it all lined up on the main stage. This song carries extraordinary beautiful lyrics so maybe it's no wonder that I gave up again and went teary (again!), especially seeing Ohkura conveying his everything into this song. I like Omoidama, it always gave me positive thinking; at least until Eito performed it one last time with Subaru on television, and I don't know even know why, I felt so moved I cried. During this live concert, once again. MC I understand very, very little Japanese, and Eito during MC change topic every half a minute, so I have to confess I didn't get most of their talks. I think they started talking about nicknames? or the way people calls them at work? Something like that? Memorable thing was Maru anyway (bless him) that made a few incredibly resembling monomane about the different firework types... A-WE-SO-ME XD Yasu was sent behind the stage to rest, and I also witnessed cute Ryo making sure Ohkura got his own water bottle before giving back the empty bottles to staff guys :p

Second part of the concert:

13. Ima / 14. Hesomagari / 15. ER2 / 16. Gamushara Koushinkyoku: during this parts Eito went on the little moving stages (dunno how they're called) and despite the fact that I don't like Ima (I like the lyrics and the PV, but not the frilly dance), I was blessed with a Tatsu rapping his everything during ER2 right above me (well he was not exactly near but I was so dumbstruck he is REAL, so please forgive me)... so when I saw the DVD preview with him screencapped exactly during that moment, omg, the feels!!

Solos:

17. Watashi Kagami: I cried. 18. TORN: I was speechless. 19. PanPanda: I died from cuteness. 20. Love&King: I grinned like an idiot XD

Okay, on a more serious note:

17. Watashi Kagami: my fave about Yasu's solos, I was so hyped and dokidoki, and Yasu looked so tiny (well, I was far away) all by himself on stage but at the same time his presence and his soul was HUGE and I was blown away during his performance. I relaxed down completely, and hearing him was like having the sweetest lullaby ever. I cried. I really loved, loved loved it utterly. I'm so grateful I could hear this live. 18. TORN: ahhhh. I'm not coherent. Quite differently from Watashi Kagami, I kept being too hyped/dokidoki/nervous all the time during TORN so I cannot say I enjoyed this as I wished but still, I'm so happy I was there. I went to the cons with no spoilers about the setlist BUT the solos, and back then when I heard about TORN I couldn't believe it and was even scared and panicking bc, what if they only played it in Sapporo? what if they changed the part of the setlist like they did for winter Eightertainment? I know it's incredibly stupid and selfish of me but I went into all kind of idiot thinking bc I wanted to see them SO MUCH çoç Then, well, I really was there ♥♥♥ One day I was in arena () and I witnessed Ryo GRINNING like an idiot (in love) when he came on stage for TORN, before his own part started. He's in love, yeah I know U_U No I'm not coherent about this, sorry! SORRY! Oh but did you see Ryo SMILING LIKE AN IDIOT also during his dance part together with Tatsu çOç??? 19. PanPanda: two cutieeeeees! During this cuteness I manage to collect all the pieces of my heart that had melted during Watashi Kagami and TORN... 20. Love&King: when Takatsuking project first began, long ago, I wasn't that eager, but he slowly grew on me with time and this perf was epic! TORN presence during Love&King was so funny, I might have fangirled more on this rather than TORN itself, maybe because TORN does not give you the time to THINK, actually King on his throne was THE BEST XD

Game corner: Ohkura Tik + another thing whose purpose I didn't exactly understand, but it was funny to see and I saw TORN again dealing with this thing together, so my feels were a mess XD Ohkura Tik corner was terribly stupid and cute and the best thing ever. Seriously.

The Yokohina part here is definitely my fave, and whole dome squealed as much as I did, so I was double happy XD

21. Hibiki / 22. Namida no Kotae: two quite "Ohkura-centered" songs to begin with, I'm not very fond of those but several parts had me moved. As said above, Ohkura's voice was off but he tried his best, I remember him bending forward so much, nearly crouching in order to sing better (?) and he nonetheless smiled all the time. It was kinda painful to see ç__ç

23. King of Otoko / 24. Tsumi to Natsu / 25. Clover / 26. Maemuki Scream: during this part here I have barely memories because they went around on carts and the fangirl that is in me tried desperately to look everywhere at the same time. Sorry. Eito were as energetic as always and I really enjoyed watching them going around, not to mention all Eighters doing the dance moves just like them omg so perfect!!! so skilled!!! I'm a fan of Eighters also XD

27. Osaka Romanesque: I think I have been very very lucky hearing this in Osaka. I remember when they mentioned lyrics of places I had been into just a few hours before, and I burst into tears from feels and I felt I wanted to hug Eito and Eighters and the whole dome at the same time. It gave me shivers and it felt very special. Encore 28. Sweet Parade / 29. Panorama / 30. Aoppana I don't like Sweet Parade/Panorama very much, but they're okay songs for an encore, so I didn't stop from fangirling here x3

31. Koko Ni: ah, this. Even Eighters barely remembered the lyrics bc it was the newest song, and Eito in Osaka didn't play it yet as we saw that in Tokyo or Fukuoka, I mean, hugging each other or being the usual idiots. But still, the overwhelming feeling this song spread on the whole dome when they sang it is... I cannot describe it enough, I guess. They sang it one beside another, like Hibiki, but at the same time they played it from the bottom of their hearts, with all the love and feels they carried. When I walked back to my hotel, my legs were jelly beans, my feels were a mess and I couldn't even realize I had just come back from Kyocera Dome. All I could hear in my mind was Koko ni. Ugh ♥

Random things:

1. I attended the concert of 25th August 2018 in Osaka... yeah, the anniversary of Eito Kansai debut Two years ago, on that very same day, I attended my very first Eito event (Recital in Nagoya), which is still so precious to me *_*

2. It was my very first time attending a concert at Kyocera Dome, my first time in an arena seat (!!!! on Saturday only, close to a spot where Ryochan performed torn), my first time being freaking nervous before/during/after the concert. The following day I relaxed down quite a lot. My memories about the concert come straight from Sunday only, while as for Saturday, I have mostly a black-out.

3. despite the arena seat, our area got zero gintape, but I am very happy anyway because a friend of mine offered me a green gin tape... my treasure çOçEighters are really the best I am sorry that I was so much "blacked-out" during the cons that even of my very very very favourite moment, the final one when Eito join hands and so do Eighters, I only have blurred memories. But the lingering, beautiful feeling is always there, though.

It wouldn't be fair of me to even try making a comparison between GR8EST and JAM, that I both attended, because if last year everything seemed perfect, now we now that it wasn't exactly like so (after Yasu's surgery and Subaru's idea of leaving already in the way) and this latest tour proved how Eito tried their hardest to start again from scratch and from -literally- body and soul deep injuries. They didn't come out unscathed but they really, really opened their own heart up to eighters in order to share a good time together. I've said this before, Ryo was impressive and amazing all the time. A cutie, a cool guitarist, a still a bit awkward "leader" but always very humble in his attitude, even during the 'least important' of moments of the show. It really impressed me how he made sure that every Eito member took their drink during MC, how he brought back the empty bottles... maybe a very ordinary gesture, but so caring, and he wasn't even supposed to do that himself. While Ohkura's attitude broke my heart because he was obviously unwell with his voice off and his desperate attempts to sing 'well' anyway. He drummed with all his might and soul, and he waved energetically (with that SOFT arms of his) even to the most far away upper seats. He later said he felt like he received tons of love in Osaka and by reading that I melted, even though the day of the concert I didn't melt, I just squealed like an idiot despite being very far, so I feel really the biggest idiot ever XD Anyway. Teeny tiny Yasu isn't teeny tiny anymore. He might have been recovering, but he was very sassy when playing the guitar and never showed any mercy to his fragile body, I'd say O-o He was impressive and so is his voice, growing very fast and very beautifully. Maru is a softie. What would we do without Maru's gags XD? We know he's hurt the most by Subaru's absence but, again, he never let those feelings overshadow the show, the music, the other members. Yoko and Hina, papa and mama, mama and papa. Yoko, to me, was like watching Maru: not letting himself go, giving his very best both on trumpet and on cheering Eighters when he had to. I wanted to hug him so tight!!! And Hina is a steady rock and among all the other qualities of this man, I am really, really thankful he is there to watch over the whole group (and that's how KING+TORN was born 8D - sorry just kidding ^^''). Maybe the Eito we saw during GR8EST weren't the most sparkling Eito ever, but they sure are the guys that risked it all by choosing to go on even this time, despite many hardships, and they won the deal, because Eighters are there with them. On a closing note, I remember Tacchon doing the gay monomane a few times during the con and one last time before saying 'bye, and this time he was with Yasu who tried to imitate him, obviously failing due to his injured waist. This made the whole dome laugh and I found the whole thing honestly so sweet, rather than gross (it'd normally be gross, I guess), because this is just so much like Eito, "find and share the laughter even when normally only some sad/pity thoughts would be there." That's one of the reason why I fell for them, and probably the biggest and deepest one that keeps me tied to them. So despite my tears and my messy feels of those days, I can say it aloud: I'm very proud to be an Eighter PS: god bless Ohkura always for being such a fanboy of his own group and singing the lines of the songs even when he's not supposed to. You damn cutie, I love you!

#gr8est #report #my poor feels #osaka #SO PROUD OF MY BABIES #SO PROUD OF MY ICHIBAN #kanjani8 #eito #THE IDIOTS I LOVE #torn is the right word to describe my OTP

14 notes · View notes