#'your younger selves are still there inside you and you can talk to them when you want' adn i'm just HIOHADIFOG S I R

[ablednt]

I think everyone needs at least one unassuming media they read way too much into and like it only counts if you sound absolutely insane talking about it like you Cannot Be Normal about it, mentally you’ve got all the characters and plot points pinned up on a wall and your putting all these strings around and it’s largely incoherent but makes sense To You.

#that's the tism media babey #mine is the mbs and dear god do i have os many thoughts about it #TLS wrote this cool kids book and probably was not trying to craft an anarchist epic about hashtag society but like how else am i supposed #to read it like take it at face value? not hype it up like it's 1000 times deeper than it probably actually is? hideous do not even jest #about such a thing/lh #i really am so autistic about this book though #I have mutliple copies and i can and will buy more eventually #my original copy i got when i was like 11 is literally missing its cover and its spine is deterioating #because i used it so much #this book literally raised me better than my parents ever did y'all don't UNDERSTAND #also i will say that I am almost CERTAIN the author is some level of not singlet #because well over 10 years after finishing the series #he came back and wrote a 4th book that's less of a standalone piece and more of an extended epilogue #and he was asked why now and he basically said "Kate would not leave me alone until I continued the story'' #(for context kate is one of the mcs) so it's like wow ok thank you the kate fictive in the authors brain #same vibes as that 'we'll be done with this sonic game when the sonic in my brain approves' #also in said epilogue one of the characters when discussing aging is like #'your younger selves are still there inside you and you can talk to them when you want' adn i'm just HIOHADIFOG S I R #wait oh no im infodumping again in the tags when will it end/lh /pos #OH YEAH not only do I own multiple copies but I've bought and also gifted friends copies too #i am so fucking desperate to have someone to talk to who Gets It bc i dont rlly connect much with the fandom tbh #it's not bad or anything but most of them are just having a regular time which is fine but #im so fuckign autistic about this media besties i need it to be someone else's SI too so bad

[denimbex1986]

'Six BAFTA nominations, universal critical acclaim, and not a dry eye in the house: Andrew Haigh’s ghostly gay romance All of Us Strangers is already the must-watch queer film of the year.

Based loosely on 1987 novel Strangers by Taichi Yamada, All of Us Strangers follows Fleabag star Andrew Scott as a depressed and isolated queer writer in his forties, who is still reeling from the death of his parents three decades earlier.

In one week, his world changes: not only does he spark up a deep and beautiful romance with younger neighbour Harry (Paul Mescal), but he returns to his childhood home and reunites with his parents – despite them being dead.

Across weeks, he gets to have the vital, moving conversations with the apparitions of mum (Claire Foy) and dad (Jamie Bell) that he was too young to have when they passed, as his romance with Harry blossoms.

Though Yamada’s original novel features a straight protagonist, Andrew Haigh recently explained to PinkNews why he, as a gay man, couldn’t have told his version of the story without centring the queer experience.

“What I’ve always been interested in doing, and especially with this [film], is talking about queerness in relationship to family, and how complicated it can be in relationship to family,” he shared, “especially if you grew up in a generation of the ’80s and into the early ’90s, where it was very different than it is now – thank God.”

A turning point in All of Us Strangers comes when Adam comes out to his parents, who are stuck in the deeply homophobic Thatcher era, and their response is initially less than approving.

“Back then, it was a pretty rough time for a lot of kids growing up and growing into their sexuality. I felt like that adds so much to the story,” the Looking and Weekend creator shared.

“[Adam’s] not lonely because he’s gay. But being gay and coming from that time has made him feel separate in the world to some degree. It’s almost like the world has made him feel lonely.”

As part of the discourse surrounding the film, Paul Mescal has been forced to explain why it was OK for him, as a straight actor, to portray a gay character, arguing that it depends who is in the driving seat of the film.

Haigh has now explained that gay actor Andrew Scott was always going to take the lead role in the film over Paul Mescal, because the story needed to focus on a particular generation of gay men.

“It always had to be from Adam’s perspective,” the 50-year-old director explained.

“I’m the same age or a little bit older than Andrew Scott’s character. That was the generation that I wanted to talk about.”

The contrast between Adam and Harry is an exploration of how gay men of certain ages live their lives differently, even though they are all profoundly affected by the same trauma that can come with growing up queer.

“In many ways, [Harry] is slightly more liberated in the world, and hasn’t been burdened by some of the things that [Adam] has been burdened by. He releases some freedom in Andrew Scott’s character, which I think is really interesting,” Haigh shared.

“Once you’ve seen the film, you realise there’s also a sorrow and a sadness inherent in [Mescal’s] character too.”

Though it’s emotional, All of Us Strangers also highlights the beauty that comes with being able to live as your true self around those you love the most. In opening himself up to his parents, Adam is able to heal the wounds of their complicated relationship.

“I think it’s amazing how often we aren’t our true selves to people, even if people are still alive,” Haigh reflected.

“You still probably don’t have those difficult conversations that you need to have. I understand why we don’t have those difficult conversations; I think there’s a world inside [all] of us that is tormented and a little bit broken, that we’re trying to deal with almost every day of our lives.”

Haigh hopes the film will show that there is an alternative reality out there for those who don’t feel able to be themselves.

“I think the film for me was to say: ‘You know what, it’s OK. I get that you will feel like that, and there is a way out of that. You can find love and intimacy and be known and be understood.”

Rightfully so, All of Us Strangers is pulling in an impressive slate of award nominations – including a BAFTA nomination for Best British Film. It may have been shockingly snubbed by the Oscars, but Haigh is more assured to see the film resonating with so many queer people worldwide.

“It’s always quite surprising to me when something with queer content actually manages to break through and get talked about,” he admitted.

“Now I’m alright with it not being some big mainstream billion dollar because clearly, that’s never going to happen, and there will still be lots of people out there that won’t go and see this film because of the content, or what they think is the content.

“That’s a shame, because I feel like this is a film for everybody,” he added.

“But it’s amazing that it has been taken under the wing by a lot of people and I love that.”'

#Andrew Haigh #Weekend #All of Us Strangers #Paul Mescal #Andrew Scott #Oscars #Strangers #Taichi Yamada #Fleabag #Claire Foy #Jamie Bell #BAFTAs

[evereinefaust]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐌𝐞? ࿐ྂ

Pairing: Killua Zoldyck X afab!Reader

Sypnosis: A fateful incident was what allowed them to be true to their feelings.

Word Count: 2,453

Hey, um say... Can you hear me?

Ehh? What did you say?

Liar! Don't lie to me. Take out your earbuds!

Sorry, sorry! It's just that I love seeing your adorable expressions~

Adorable?!? What are you talking about, I'm not cute!

Huhu~ Or so you think!

For some reason, hanging out with her always made my day. She always smiled, no matter how lame or boring something was, she'd always smile. At least more than 2 times a day. She always had these earbuds plugged into her ears, listening to who knows what. But she could always hear me or Gon even from a distance, so sometimes I think that she's not listening to anything at all. I'm always asking her, can you hear me, but she always responds with a yes. I really can't understand this mysterious girl.

After all of the commotion seized, Gon and I left our old selves behind to start a new. We went back to Whale Island, where it was peaceful like always, and lived the rest of our youth there in peace. Well, to be honest, we are still teens and we aren't quite.. You know, peaceful. Gon went fishing like always, catching that giant fish over and over again, I actually feel bad for all of the holes Gon has put through it's mouth! But, regarding that, we actually met a girl who was around our age, she's pretty tall for her age! Around an inch or two taller than me. She's just recently moved to Whale Island, so now Gon-- and I hang out with her I guess. She's actually pretty cool and collected.

Birds chirping, blue sky with no clouds, bright green grass... What's not to like about this nice weather? It's not like me to say this but the weather is unusually really nice!

"Hey, Gon! Let's go to the forest!" I called out to my best friend. He shouts back from inside the house, most likely the kitchen. "Sorry, Killua! I promised Mito-san that I'll help her in the kitchen today!" He says, rushing to the opened door and pressing his hands together in apology. "You can go hang out with (y/n) though!" He grins such an innocent smile and starts heading back towards the kitchen. Popping his head out of the door frame so that I could still see him, he says, "I'll catch up if I finish cooking with Mito-san!" I sigh and smile right back at him. "Alright! I'll go look for her!" I stood up, walking towards the house that she lived in.

Crossing the busy main street, there was a lot of people talking to others, from what I could tell, they looked very... Worried? I didn't pay much attention to them though. Meeting up with (y/n) and what we were going to do was all I could think about. I arrived at the house, and somehow, it had... A weird aura around it. I go to the right side of the house and throw a rock at the middle window. "Heey! You in there?" I call out to the girl. "(y/n)? You there!?" I say a little louder. No answer? I thought of climbing up the wall to get to the window but ehh... No thanks. I decided to go to the front door like a normal person. I knock on the door. "S'cuse me! Is (y/n) here?" I ask. The house is weirdly dark, though it's not unusual to see a dark house when it's still broad daylight outside. "Excuse me.." I mumble and walk inside.

Hearing two pairs of footsteps from behind me, I turn around, my eyes falling upon a young woman and a child. "Oh! You must be.." says the taller one. "Killua!" The little girl who looks very similar to (y/n) shouts. They approach me. They don't seem very dangerous, but I keep my guard up anyway. "Yes... I am Killua. Is there anything you need?" I ask. The older one speaks up. "Ah! I'm Yulia, (y/n)'s older sister... This is Noir, her younger sister..." She trails off every sentence she says. "But, have you seen (y/n)? She's been missing since last week, I thought she would have come back sooner or later but she never leaves over than a week before telling us.." Yulia has clear signs of worry in her expression, but (y/n) missing?! She's rather cautious of her surroundings, why would she be missing?! "Uh- Ms.Yulia? Do you remember the last place you've seen her?" I ask. That idiot! What in the world is she doing?!

"No... I remember her leaving the house and that's it.. K-Killua, if you can, please help us find (y/n)!" She pleads. Well duh, why wouldn't I help!? I might as well just find her myself! "Don't worry. I'll find her." I find her room inside the house and look around for any clues. "Nothing seems out of the ordinary.." I mumble. Snooping around more and figuring out there's nothing here to learn about makes me leave the house. "Where could that idiot be?! Arghh she's making me so irritated!" I ruffle my hands in my hair, trying to think of possible places she could be. "Whale Island isn't that big. Let's start by searching the island, then going on the boat to see if she's not on the island." I mutter to myself.

I arrive at the lake where Gon always fishes. "(y/n)! Are you here?" I call out once before scanning the water and scenery. "Not here."

I look around the shopping area, but still no signs of (y/n). I asked around, but they all either said they hadn't seen her or that she'd gone to a different place. Where is Gon when you need him? Why is he still working in the kitchen?! It's been hours already!

I've looked all over Whale Island, but I still can't find her. "What, are my assassin skills fading away when I need them the most?!" I yell in frustration. "All that leaves is another place... Where would that place be?" Why is (y/n) so mysterious?! But if I think about all the places (y/n) might be... Mm... Wait. No way... She can't be! If you think about it..!

I rush to the dock where the boats are being loaded. I hop on and have it take me to my destination.

I arrived at a town, running to the top of the hill where a big tree lived. "Kirikos! Are you there!?" I call out. "It's Killua!" "... Killua?" An unfamiliar boy peeks out of the door of the house I was standing in front of. This is the son of the Kiriko if I can recall correctly. "Ah! I remember you! What are you doing here by the tree?" He asks with a smile. It's been quite a long time since I've seen him. "Ah, well, do you think you could take me straight to the Hunter Exam?" The Kiriko tilts his head in confusion, well, of course, he wouldn't know why I need to go back to the hunter's exam. "I- Uh... It's a long story... Do you think you could!? Please!" I bow. I need to hurry! A sudden chuckle from the Kirko jerks my head up. "Ahaha! Sure, why not?" "...! Thanks, man!"

I arrive at the Hunter Exam, looking around frantically for that (h/c) hair-colored idiot. "It's starting..!" "Yeah! So excited!" I hear bunches of people whispering about the Hunter Exam starting... It shouldn't be starting right now right? Shouldn't there be another day left or so?! I start to squirm through the crowd. Is she really not here...? I spot a familiar shade of (favorite color) at the corner of my eyes. "(y/n)?!?" I whisper, keeping my voice down. I follow the familiar color, finding the one I need to look for. As I'm in her hearing distance, I reach out my hand to her. "(y/n)--- TONPA?!?!" I go to (y/n)'s side, smack the juice out of her hand, and put my hands on her shoulders. "Tonpa! What the heck do you think you're doing to her!? Don't give her a freaking laxative!" ".... A laxative?" I face (y/n) and shake her. "What did your parents and sister teach you?! Didn't they tell you to not take anything from a stranger!? What are you doing at the Hunter Exam anyways?!" That fatty decides to speak up, remembering my face somehow. "A-ah Killua! What are you doing back here at the Hunter Exam? Ahaha..." There was a small 'tch' that came from his mouth but I ignored it. "We're leaving!" I say and pull her to an emergency exit that only us Hunters know about.

"Killua! What are you doing!?" "What am I doing!?! What are YOU doing!?!?" "I'M DOING THE FREAKING HUNTER EXAM OF COURSE!" She yells in anger, pulling her arm away. "I want to stand on the same ground as you and Gon! You don't know how it feels to be the one who always seems and needs to be protected!" I stand in place, listening to her yell. It's like they've frozen me to stay in one spot. Is.. is this how she's always felt...? But.. she's always smiled? She smiled every day... "I.. (y/n)--" "SHUT UP! I'm going back to the Hunters Exam!" She turns around and quietly mumbles some words I can't hear quite clearly. "(y/n)..! Wait!" I ran towards her and took hold of her wrist. She pulls her arm away and runs away, definitely not in the direction of the Hunters Exam. "(y/n)!" I started to chase after her, being faster than her, I caught up to her quite quickly. "(y/n)! Stop!" "Stop chasing after me! Go away!" She starts to run faster, but I bet her legs are pushing themselves. She hasn't run this fast before, especially during long distances. Flashing lights start to appear, and I notice that we're now in the city part of the place. She starts running into a busy street. There's absolutely no way that she's conscious right now! She's going to get hit! "(y/n)! Move!!" I scream at the top of my lungs, running faster and faster before I can------

Beep.. Beep... Beep.... Beep....

All I can see is black. Black there, black here... Why is there this annoying beeping sound in my head... It's so annoying! ... Just like.. that idiot.. (y/n)... Always smiling when things are rough. Thinking that she can do something when she clearly can't... Haaahh... Why am I so tired just thinking about her. Might as well sleep.

I don't know how long it's been, but I've been in this pit for a while now. Sometimes it's black, sometimes it's white.. Can't it make up it's mind? I'm getting sick of it. There's nothing to do.

I.. can't wake up. Why is it so hard to wake up..! All I have to do is open my eyes, yet why won't they open!?

Hey, um say.. Can you hear me?

Ehh? What did you say?

What is this strange memory? Who's speaking?

Liar! Don't lie to me. Take out your ear buds!

Sorry, sorry! It's just that I love seeing your adorable expressions~

Adorable, huh.. I'm envious... They seem like they're having so much fun. I wish.. I could have fun like that too.

Adorable?!? What are you talking about, I'm not cute!

Huhu~ Or so you think!

"... Killua, I'm sorry." A voice says. "It's been a while since I've seen you, huh. You've.. gotten a lot skinnier..! Ahaha.." ... (y/n)? Is.. that you..? "I'm sorry that I haven't come at all before, it's just- how can I ever face you again? I've done something so stupid, and I've gotten you hurt. Because of me.." There's this warm liquid falling onto my hand. I wonder what it is..? "I'm sorry..!" Why is she saying sorry? It feels so.. weird. "... Killua, can you hear me..? I.. have always wanted to say this, but I've never said it because I wanted to stand on the same ground as you. I'm... sorry. But, I've always loved you, ever since the day we first met. Maybe it was just love at first sight, but, after spending lots of time with you, I've noticed I've fallen head over heels for you.." She trails off at the end. She walks away..? Love.. huh? Maybe... "Killua, can you hear me?"

"Yeah... Loud and clear." I say with a hoarse voice. I finally open my eyes, seeing that familiar hair color of hers, her shade of (e/c) eyes that I've always noticed. "Killua...!" I find her rushing back towards me and embracing me in a tight hug. She lets go so soon, it felt.. nice to have someone hug you though. After being in the dark for so long. "You.. didn't hear me right...?" "Of course I did. 'I love you Killua!'~" I laugh and smile at her red tomato-blushing face. I.. missed it. A lot. "S-s-so! Y-y-your answer?" She stutters, hiding her face behind her hands. I take one of her hands and lightly place my lips on there. "Of course, milady~" I sweetly say, teasing her. "K-k-k-Killua! I-I-I-I need to go and tell the others that you're awake!! E-excuse me!" She whimpers and immediately runs out of the room. So I'm in a hospital huh... I wonder how long it's been.

A chuckle escapes my mouth as I slowly close my eyes and rest them. "Can you hear me..? It's been too long since I've last heard that sentence."

#fanfic #fanfiction #alternate universe #oneshot #reader insert #x reader #one shot #fluff #drabble #female reader #hxh #hxh killua #killua zoldyck #hxh 2011 #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter 2011

[romirola]

14-17 for the writer asks? :D

Bunny! Thanks for these asks!

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

I don't think I've had someone ask me to borrow books, though if I did, I presume I'd lend them out, unless the person asked for a book I'm actively using for research, in which case I'd explain I need that for work, but here's the citation info so the person could obtain it from a different library or request it or whatever. There are SO many great, easy ways to get your hands on a book these days. We truly live in a wonderful time. I hope no one is scared to borrow books from me. I know I can come across as abrasive, but if someone knows me well enough to want to borrow a book from me, I would hope they at least know that abrasiveness isn't necessarily intentional or directed at them.

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

Yes, I write in the margins of books (only if I own them! Not a library's or someone else's copy! In that case, post it notes for life!) and have "dog-eared" pages if I know I'll need that page later. I don't judge people for doing these things. Do people do that? lol They are welcome to judge me, I suppose. I understand an impulse to take care of your possessions, which is something I also value. But, I don't think a pristine copy of a book is "better" than one that's old, worn, and most importantly, USED and LOVED. My books are not decorations. They are active, useful sources of stories and information that that I have to put them to good use.

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

Cellphone.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

Ahh, this is a great question! So great, I'm going to provide you a itty bitty snippet of the final chapter of (It Was the First Time) Things Felt Normal Again for the context. This chapter should be out early next week: It was a comfort-spot for many shifters because it was where their scruff resided. Marie Greer was not shy about grabbing her cub and dragging him by his scruff at a moment’s notice and, much to David’s chagrin, neither was Gabe. As a wolf cub, David tried hard to quell those little whines of frustration that escaped his jowls when he went limp as Gabe picked him up by the scruff after deciding that it was time for David to come inside after a day of wolf-play. However, no matter how much a wolf cub balked at the idea of being carried around by their parents or an adult pack member, a warm feeling of belonging always seemed to accompany the maneuver. It was a tactile reminder that they were a part of the pack, wolves in their own right. Even though they had all grown out of being small enough for their scruffs to be of much use anymore, that part of themselves always held the ability to inscribe upon their bodies the ethereal, communal connections that came along with being part of a pack. 

I love to imagine the pack as their younger selves, shortly after their powers manifest. The idea of both Milo and David being rambunctious little wolf cubs who more than once needed to be reigned in by their parents, hanging out of their mouths and whimpering with the most intimidating little squeaky-growls they could muster is so fun to consider! I also think that mama-Marie often grabbed any cub (Asher, who often even howled for Marie when he got lost or wandered too far away from the pack) she saw as being in danger or in need of healing, since she, too, carries that "protective gene." And let's not forget about OG-alpha Gabe, who embarrassed David to no end when he noticed that David was too tired to walk home but too stubborn to ask his father for help. Gabe was no stranger to grabbing any cub of his pack to offer a little guidance or just to help that cub adjust to their new wolf-form.

#thank you!

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

Ray, hi, hello, I am here to request more time travel au thoughts, even though you only just shared some, because i am greedy, and i need them, peas and thank you 🙃

peas and thank you! 🤗 yes of course howl it would be my pleasure. i was gonna say "something happened and this got sad" but that would be a lie, because i know exactly what happened - this dramatic irony shit was the first thing to float into my domepiece when thinking of this au and has been lurking ever since, so please bear with me while i get it out of the way so we can be fun again! 💙

✨ past time travel au thoughts ✨

so obviously older ian and mickey have their talk about not telling their younger selves too much for butterfly effect purposes. and they both think it's gonna be pretty easy until they look just a little too hard and think just a little too long because... holy fuck, these kids. they have no fucking idea. they've got so much trauma and hurt and irreparable damage coming and they don't even know it.

ian sits and watches his younger self ramble about ROTC shit and his heart is fucking breaking. is that even possible? can your heart break for your own self? he wants to tell him. he wants to warn him. because it's about to get so much fucking worse before it gets better but he can't. he can't. because as fucked as it is, all those experiences are what made him who he is now. little ian's gotta get through it. he's gotta get out of it all alive. so ian just sits and nods and tries very hard to smile when his younger self keeps asking about the army because if he smiles, he doesn't have to focus on the whir of chopper blades or the thunk of club music or the smell of his hand palm-down against a hot griddle or-

"i wanna tell him." it's night time. they're home and safe and brushing their teeth but ian's about five years away.

mickey doesn't sound surprised next to him. in fact it sounds like he's years away too. back on the southside. back in that ratty green scarf, already scarred in every way but nowhere near the worst it's gonna get. but... "bout what." specifically. because there's a horrifying amount to pick from.

they don't tell them. their younger selves. they want to so fucking bad - even just a vague little warning - anything to blunt the pain for when it finally does happen, but...

the mickeys are out on the balcony smoking and it's dead silent. heavy. anticipatory.

"just ask," older mickey says. because he knows he wants to. he knows his own thinking face. "whatever you're chewin' on over there, just fuckin' ask it."

his younger self doesn't look at him, but his shoulders slump a little, his eyes taking in everything around them like he still can't believe what he's seeing. and when he asks it, it's quiet. restless in this uncomfortable, existential way. "...when's it start to get better...?"

mickey watches it all happen and wonders if it's possible for your heart to break for your own self and how the fuck is he supposed to tell him that the worst is yet to come? that he ain't seen nothin' yet?

from inside, a burst of laughter pulls his attention, the ians going on about something on the couch. and jesus...if mickey had seen this when shit was spiraling out of control... if he knew, through all the pain, that this is what was waiting for him on the other side... something to hold onto. something like his younger self is seeing now...

"it's gonna suck," he says, "for a while. just..." the ian's laughter bubbles up again, this time pulling both the mickeys' attention. "just think about this." he motions inside. the future. what will be pulled out from all the trauma. "when shit's bad. eventually you get this."

it's gonna be okay.

that night mickey crawls into bed with his husband and it feels like he's the one who's been pulled through time and space. but ian's arms are snug around him. secure. his younger self's got a long way to go before he lets himself feel this good, but when he does it's gonna blow his mind.

#oh no! :..) #i hurt my feelings! #shameless #gallavich #time travel au #you - kind and unsuspecting: hey some more thoughts mayhaps? :) #me: does the murderous anime eye glint :) #okay now i wanna go back to the fun stuff because my heart hurts!

[yunhoez]

Coincide

pairings: timeskip!suna rintaro x f!reader

genre: smut, FLUFF, tiny bit of angst like for 2 seconds, followed by more fluff

warnings: NSFW 18+, swearing, orgasm denial, public sex, breeding, "bunny", not proofread (its 3 am), I think that's it but pls let me know if I missed anything

a/n: this is really self indulgent, I had this thought in the shower and something about my trash ass ex seeing me happy with suna makes my brain go brrrrr. don't worry, I'm working on that in therapy :D anyways this is my first time writing smut, lol bye! hope y'all enjoy!!! <3

There’s no reason to attend a high school reunion with people you never liked nor thought of in years. Meaningless chatter mixed with the stench of beer, while the god awful fluorescent lights sting your eyes didn’t sound appealing to you. Yet here you are, standing against the wall of the poorly decorated banquet hall with a drink you’ve hardly touched. The “Welcome Class of 2017” banner in front of you, reminded you of just how little time has passed since you’ve seen these people. If it were up to you, you would’ve ignored the e-vite and binged a show you’ve seen 100 times already. However, your sweet boyfriend, Suna Rintaro, was so eager to see where you spent your teen years and the people who knew you way before he did. Not that they would have very many stories about you, considering how much you kept to yourself, but that didn’t stop Suna from RSVPing on your behalf.

“I fucking hate you.” you spat, taking a sip of your drink, wincing at the strength.

“I know.” suna smirked, handing you his beer and taking your drink for himself.

The both of you stood close together, watching people fein happiness at the sight of each other. What was the point in attending these events if not to show off how much better you’re doing to people who no longer matter to you, if they ever did that is. Suna nudged you lightly, motioning towards a group of people coming toward the two of you.

“Hey! I didn’t think you’d be here!”

“Yeah! Me neither!” you giggle, shooting a glare towards Suna who’s already grinning at you.

Suna knows you hate small talk, but something about seeing you perk up at the memories you’ve seemingly forgotten made him feel warm inside. Although you never wanted to admit it, you missed the people who made your teen years a little less terrible. Suna wrapped his arms around your waist, settling his chin onto your head, as the two of you listened to your friends reminisce about your antics.

“I’m telling you, this girl was in detention every single day!”

“Don’t act like you weren’t there with me!” you huffed, feeling Suna’s chest rumble with laughter. No one had ever taken much interest in your life, except for Suna. It was safe to say you had no idea how to react to his attentiveness when it came to you. You looked up at him, watching how he was soaking in the memories of you, that he didn’t get to witness. He smiles widely at the thought of you picking at your chicken sandwiches, only for you to eat the bread and call it lunch.

You notice the crinkle in his eyes, as he catches you in photos on the projector screen. You cover your face, a blush creeping onto your cheeks, as everyone awes at their younger selves. Suna grabs hold of your hands and pulls them down from your face, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“You know if I went to your school, I would’ve been afraid of you.”

“Says the one who looks bored out of his mind all the time.” you tease him, your gaze still fixed on the dimly lit screen.

“Guess we’re soulmates then.” he hums into your ear, tightening his grip around your waist.

The night went by smoothly, well as smooth as it can get when you’re surrounded by people who most definitely hated each other. Suna leads you to the bar, ordering a round of shots for the two of you.

“If we’re going to be here, we might as well take advantage of the open bar.” he grins, pouring salt onto your hand and handing you the tiny glass.

“I’m sure that’s the only reason so many people showed up.” you respond, licking the salt and downing the burning liquid. Suna brings a lime wedge to your lips, you suck on it lightly as he watches you intently. He brings it to his own mouth, draining the remainder of the juice before neatly folding it in a napkin.

“So what’s the story with those two over there?” he motions to the couple arguing a few feet from you.

“Them? They always do that, one minute they’re in love and the next they’re having a Twitter war.” you say, signaling the bartender for another round.

“Does that mean we’ll get to read some drama tonight?” Suna perks up, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. You giggle, clinking your glasses together and savoring the tequila running through you quicker than you expected.

“Already feeling it, pretty?”

“Pft. No, I’m just feelin’ fuzzy.”

Suna turns you to face him, his eyes starting to glaze over from the drinks. Everything around you feels hazy, but his touch is amplified as he taps on your lips to open. He wedges the lime into your mouth, gaze fixed on the way you swallow the tart juice and pucker your lips. Placing the fruit in his glass, he attaches his lips to yours, groaning at the mix of your sweetness and the sour taste of citrus. The lingering taste of tequila was replaced with his own, your body getting drunk off of him more so than the alcohol. He places his hand onto the small of your back, pressing you into him and eliminating any space between you two. A firm poke to your thigh was enough for you to have you moan softly into his mouth. He pulls away, a string of saliva connecting you two before snapping back onto his lips. He licks them, relishing in the haze of love and need he feels for you.

“Bathroom. Now.” he demands, throwing a wad of cash onto the bar and pulling you with him. A smile plastered on your lips as you follow close behind him, stumbling on your platforms.

The two of you stumble into the men’s bathroom, small giggles falling from your lips as Suna trips over his own foot before locking the door. You lift yourself up onto the counter, feeling the cold tile on your thighs and leaning against the mirror. Suna nudges your legs apart with his thigh, slipping in between them and running his hands up your short dress, peppering kisses along your neck.

“God, I love you.” he mumbles, pulling you closer to him and smashing his lips against yours. Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling at it slightly as he deepens the kiss and moans into your mouth. His grip on your ass tightens, before he makes his way between your legs. He lifts your dress and shoves your panties to the side, staring at the mess he’s caused.

“Always so wet for me, bunny.” he whispers into your core, placing a light kiss onto your clit. You whimper at the minimal contact and he grins, flattening his tongue and licking a stripe between your folds, savoring the taste he could never get enough of. “Fuck..” he moans, the cold metal of his ring clad fingers pumping into you slowly. The sinful moans of his name leave your mouth with no shame, the sound of him devouring you and your screams were sure to be heard from the hallway.

“Rin…” you moan out, your thighs tightening over his head as he continues to suck on your clit.

“You need me, baby?” he asks, looking up at you through his thick lashes. His honey eyes dripped with lust, as he moved his slick covered fingers to rub your clit. The small, tight circles cause your thighs to shake. “Answer me, pretty.”

“R-Rin… need you.” you stutter, feeling the familiar warmth in your stomach building up. You were so close, his fingers entering you once again and curling into your sweet spot. He grins at you, his face wet from your cunt, as he leans to press a kiss to your swollen lips. “Rin! I’m-”

“I know, baby. I got you.” he coos, going in and out of you faster. Just as you were about to reach your high, his fingers slip out of you. A mischievous grin plastered on his face, as he sucks on his fingers. You groan, covering your face and pressing your thighs together. “Ah… Ah…” He pushes your thighs apart with his body, unbuckling his belt and pulling himself out. “Thought you needed me?” He pouts, pumping himself slowly.

“I- Rin. Please, I was so close-” you whine, eyes pressed to his thick cock near your entrance.

“Spit on it.” you obey him, pursuing your lips to let the liquid fall onto his dick. He pumps himself, moaning and grabbing your face with his other hand. “Now tell me, pretty. What do you need?”

“Y-you.” you whisper, looking up at him with wide eyes as you unbutton his shirt. He places a sloppy kiss on your lips, breathing heavily when your cold hands replace his as you jerk him off. “Bend over for me.” His dark eyes watched you scramble off the counter, slipping your panties off and leaning over the sink. Your pretty face in the mirror looking back at him with pleading eyes as he rubs his cock against your cunt. He moans, pushing into you slowly, throwing his head back when he bottoms out. He stills, basking in the warmth of your plush walls.

“Fuck, Rin, move.” you huff, trying to relieve yourself.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy the moment?” he responds, gripping onto your hips tightly.

“Yeah, but- Fuck!” you moan at his sharp thrusts, a smile tugging at his lips as he pulls you back and forth on his dick. “Sorry, bunny. Couldn’t wait.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the steady pace of his thrusts driving you close to your peak once again. You reach your hand down to your clit, but Suna slaps your hand away. You look up at him in the mirror, his loving eyes boring into you, as he rubs at your clit in fast circles.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well, baby.” he praises, his head falling back, letting his moans get louder the closer he gets. “Gonna cum in you, fill you up, and make you a pretty mama.”

“Fuck- Suna, don’t- WHAT THE FUCK?” you scream, feeling the fullness of his dick leave your dripping cunt.

“Who the fuck is Suna?” he giggles to himself, his dick grinding in between your folds at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Rin, c’mon- shit!” you bite your lip, your walls clenching around him as he kneads your ass.

“Good girl.” he coos, one hand on your hip and the other pulling your dress down to let your breast fall out. He moans, gripping at the soft flesh. “You gonna let me cum in you, baby?”

“Yes, fuck… don’t stop.” you hum, your brain starting to fog up as you near your release.

“S-shit, ‘M gonna.” he hisses, feeling your walls clench as you ride out your orgasm. Your fucked out expression and loud screams of his name was enough to have him spilling into you. He moans out your name, leaning over you and pressing a kiss to your shoulder, before pulling out and watching him spill out of you.

“You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” you pant, looking up at the mirror to him snapping a photo of the two of you. “Rin!”

“What? It’s a good memory!” he defends, taking several photos from different angles before lifting you up and setting you down on the counter. He shoves himself back into his pants, tucking his shirt and buckling belt before averting his attention to you. Your arms wrap around his neck as he kisses you softly, mumbling sweet words into your lips. He breaks away to dampen a towel, wiping you down as you scroll through the many pictures he took. A loud knock breaks the atmosphere, followed by annoyed screams.

“Have some fucking decency, some people need to use the bathroom!”

You both look at each other, laughing loudly before putting yourselves together. Suna adjusts his shirt, leaving the top buttons open and ruffling his hair. You slip into your underwear, smoothing out your dress and reapplying your lipstick. He gives your ass a light slap before opening the door and exiting, his eyes flicker between the couple outside. Suna’s lips twitch, realizing who the man leaning against the wall is. A smug expression spreads across his face, as he reaches his hand out for you.

“Sorry your sex life’s so boring.” he grins. You grasp his hand, walking out and nodding to the couple, recognizing the familiar set of eyes that you once adored.

“Sorry about that, bathroom's all yours.”

You squeeze Suna’s hand twice, a signal the two of you made up for when you’re feeling anxious. He quickly wraps his arm around your waist, pressing you into his side and placing a soft kiss onto your head. He hums quietly, leading the two of you out of the banquet hall and out to the garden. You stop at a bench, overlooking the city. The soft chirps of crickets and Suna’s intoxicating scent grounds you, a sense of relief washing over you.

“Fuck high school reunions, can’t believe you wanted to come here.” he jokes, pulling you onto his lap and holding you.

“Oh, shut up. You loved every minute of it.” you nuzzled into his chest.

“Particularly the bathroom part.” he hummed. “You okay?”

You sighed happily into his chest, nodding in response.

“So, tell me, what did the side bang do for you?”

“Shut the fuck up, Rintaro.” you hiss, getting up from his grasp, only for him to pull you back and attack your neck with kisses. Your laugh fills his ears, followed by your small fists punching his arm lightly in an attempt to get him to stop tickling you. A blush creeps onto his cheeks, the overwhelming feeling of love feels his body. He pauses his attack, your love laced insults about how irritating he could be was music to his ears. You’d never admit it to Suna, but you were glad he dragged you here. Seeing how his usual deadpan expression changed every time you were talked about made your heart swell. Maybe these things weren’t that bad, as long as he was by your side.

reblogs/likes appreciated <3

#suna smut #suna rintaro smut #suna rintaro x reader #suna x female reader #suna rintaro drabbles #suna drabble #suna rintarou #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #hq suna #suna fluff #suna rintaro fluff #suna x you #suna rintaro #haikyu x reader

[therealvinelle]

I know this is like taking a bat to the beehive but... I really wanna hear your opinions on the whole... Imprinting thing

(Note before we go any further: this meta is written purely about the shapeshifting aspect of the Quileute characters, I don’t at all get into the racism in Twilight or any kind of social commentary. This is a purely watsonian meta. Others in this fandom have already addressed the racial dynamics at play, far more eloquently and knowledgeably than me. If I say something in here that’s in any way offensive, that’s not my intention and I’m open to criticism.)

Ooh imprinting.

I touch upon it here, basically I hate it.

The imprinting is part of this theme where the shapeshifters lose their free will and autonomy, and I find it tragic, cruel, and unnecessary.

First of, the fact that they have to phase at all.

They’re made warriors to protect their tribe. There’s no choice involved, only genetics and magic irrevocably changing their lives, and at a ridiculously young age, too. Sam is the oldest of them, and he is 19.

Violence is an inherent part of what they become. Their purpose is to protect the tribe, by fighting vampires. Not only is this insanely dangerous (we see Jake get so injured by a single vampire that he’s bedridden for weeks), but if they succeed, they will have killed. In the singularly brutal manner of tearing apart and burning someone who looks a lot like a human, who talks and might beg for their life, at that. And I remind you, most of these shapeshifters are literal children. They might not see vampires as people, but all the same, killing one can’t be good for their mental wellbeing. (Thought: Perhaps an argument can be made for Laurent’s death having a part in the turn Jake’s personality took? Some, though not many, of the symptoms for PTSD do fit. I don’t know enough about PTSD to pursue this train of thought, but it occurred to me just now, in particular he becomes quite aggressive and prone to outbursts after that incident, so into a parenthesis it goes)

Not to mention how inhumane that responsibility is. Vampires in the Twilight-verse are terrifying, and the shapeshifters might have the power to fight them. But (and this is where I plug one of my all-time favorite animes, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, as it asks the question “Is it okay to sacrifice yourself for others?” because that’s... well there’s a parallel to be made to the shapeshifters. It’s on Netflix!) does that mean they should? Is it really their responsibility? Again- they’re kids!

Then there’s the time Sam lost control, and accidentally mauled the girl he loved. And it’s so cruel to both him and Emily. Sam never chose to have to control himself in the first place, he never chose shapeshifting. He didn’t choose to imprint on Emily either, and he didn’t choose to lose control that day. At no point in the series of events that led to Emily being mauled did Sam have any real choice, and yet he will shoulder the guilt for what happened for the rest of his life.

These kids get superpowers, and several of them seem to enjoy being shapeshifters, but the fact remains that they now carry this huge responsibility to protect their families and homes, doing so is incredibly dangerous, they lose out on their regular lives, and they can’t opt out of it.

This all sucks, but then we get to the fact that they are deprived of their free will, as their alpha can issue an order they physically can’t break. The alpha becomes alpha because of bloodlines, not because of a democratic election. Jake got a mockery of a choice in that he could choose to become alpha himself, or let Sam continue, which was really just choosing between a rock and a hard place. There is no limitation to what this order can be, from “don’t say X to person Y” to “let’s kill someone you love”. Jake has to struggle to break that last one, and he’s only successful because of the bloodline thing letting him become his own alpha.

Oh, and there’s the massive invasion of privacy when they have a hive mind. Cool concept, less cool to have it be reality. Leah is the poster child for how a hive mind can backfire, and they can’t opt out of this.

I’m not good at gifs, but the shapeshifters just make me think of that gif of someone flicking a lightswitch on and off, “WELCOME TO HELL!”. Of course, Twilight in general is a pit of despair for everybody, so I suppose that gif really is... well it sums up all of canon.

So, we have these kids aged 19 or younger, as of Breaking Dawn they skew as young as thirteen, their lives are turned upside down by something they can’t opt out of, they must shoulder this huge responsibility to protect their homes and families from the terrifying threat of vampires, and on top of all of that, they must obey orders that are so irresistible, they can compel them to harm someone they care for.

With all of that in mind, you’d think that the shapeshifters had enough on their plate. That through all of this they would at least retain their selves, and be able to look forward to a future where they could stop phasing, and go on to live normal, human, lives.

Yeah, NOT IF THEY IMPRINT.

I’ll just quote Jake’s description:

Everything inside me came undone as I stared at the tiny porcelain face of the halfvampire, half-human baby. All the lines that held me to my life were sliced apart in swift cuts, like clipping the strings to a bunch of balloons. Everything that made me who I was—my love for the dead girl upstairs, my love for my father, my loyalty to my new pack, the love for my other brothers, my hatred for my enemies, my home, my name, my self—disconnected from me in that second—snip, snip, snip—and floated up into space. 

I was not left drifting. A new string held me where I was. 

Not one string, but a million. Not strings, but steel cables. A million steel cables all tying me to one thing—to the very center of the universe. 

I could see that now—how the universe swirled around this one point. I’d never seen the symmetry of the universe before, but now it was plain. 

The gravity of the earth no longer tied me to the place where I stood. (Breaking Dawn, page 237)

Everything that made me who I was disconnected from me.

Jake’s love for his father, his home, his very own self, it’s all gone now. And while I have thoughts on the authenticity of this imprint, whether it was organic, the description above is apparently how imprinting feels. It’s along the lines of what Sam, Jared, and Paul all describe.

I don’t think I can put into words just how devastating I find imprinting, I think the above quotation speaks for itself. And as with all other shapeshifter things, there is no choice involved.

We see its devastating effects in the Emily, Sam, and Leah debacle. Sam and Leah were serious together, so much so that they were engaged. Sam had fallen for and chosen to be with Leah. Perhaps they would have broken up eventually, but Leah was still the choice he made. Then he imprints on Emily, and all that is for naught. He had to break up with Leah, who if she hadn’t phased never would have learned why, Emily and Leah’s relationship is ruined, and Emily must forever live with the knowledge that if Sam had his free will intact he would be with another woman.

Then there’s Jared and Kim. Kim crushed on Jared, but Jared never noticed her. The fact that they were in the same class is damning: if a boy is attracted to a girl, he's gonna notice her. Jared never did.

Quil imprints on Claire, who is a toddler. That’s just a recipe for misery and disaster all around.

And I’ve only touched the shapeshifter side of things. They lose their autonomy and freedom, but the imprintées draw the short straw too. They’re now responsible for this other person’s happiness. Sure, having someone who’ll be whatever you need them to be sounds nice (well, it sounds horrifying, but I’m playing ball) on paper, but you can’t opt out of them being like that. The imprintée can’t say “Sorry, not interested,” and she certainly can’t shut the imprinter out of her life, not without irrevocably ruining the imprinter’s life. The imprinter needs her. She’s the center of his earth now, but she didn’t choose to be.

Imprinting is a liferuiner for everyone involved.

Then we have the question of what imprinting is even for. I’m afraid I agree with Billy, that it’s for procreation. We see Sam, who was dating a woman about to phase (even if Leah isn’t infertile, she’s a warrior now. She can’t run in the woods and fight vampires, and gestate and nurse a child at the same time) conveniently imprint on her cousin, who as cousin to Leah is from a shifter bloodline. Claire, as Emily’s cousin, has those same genetics. Paul imprints on a woman from the Black family line. Jake is the outlier, but either Renesmée’s gift helped that imprinting along, or he imprinted because of the offspring they could potentially have (I firmly believe it’s the former because the latter... NOPE. Also, I can’t imagine whatever magic drives imprinting would want vampiric progeny for the future generations. Regardless of Renesmée’s person, her biology is wired to desire human blood. That’s exactly what Jake is supposed to protect people from. Bad match.).

I just.... ughhh. God, I hate imprinting so much, and on every level.

To me, everything about the shapeshifters is about free will, autonomy, and the loss thereof. And it would have been beautiful if their story was about reclaiming that, but it isn’t. None of this, with the exception of the alpha orders, is even acknowledged.

So, in summation, yes I hate imprinting, but it’s only the horror cherry on top of a very sad and problematic cake.

#i write this meta listening to the ost for p3m #which is how the reference came to mind #but seriously there is so much about that anime i think twilight fans would enjoy #they do something wonderfully clever with animation too that would be perfect for an animated twilight #twilight #twilight shapeshifters #wolfpack #sam uley #emily young #leah clearwater #kim #i tried to find out her last name but she appears to have none #jared cameron #jacob black #imprinting #twilight renaissance #twilight meta #long post #twilight worldbuilding #this is one of those where I'm sure i have more organizational tags to add #but none come to mind #Anonymous #ask

[spaceorphan18]

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #78

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

April Rhodes (100)

April Rhodes is feeling fine.  She’s finished up her bubbly, and giggling like a little school girl.  Who said coming back to your high school couldn’t be so fun? She’s happy that Will Schuester’s called her, and partying down with these students in the choir room has been an absolute de-light.  And, oof, if these boys aren’t cuter than they used to be.  Almost enough to give her a hot flush.  Ha! As if she’s old enough to have hot flashes.

Speaking of cuties, she spots Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson huddled together in the back of the choir room.  Their foreheads are touching, and they’re laughing with each other.  April can’t resist checking in on them - especially since they’ve kept mostly to themselves during the whole party.  Sweet little love birds.  She’s already given them a worthy present, but she can’t resist dropping in on them again.  

“Howdy boys, whatcha up to?” she says, bouncing up to where they’re sitting.  They both seem startled to see her.  She pinches their adorable cheeks. They both wince at her touch, but they’ll get over it.  She’s the fun aunt.   Or she would be if she had siblings.  “Thinking about how quickly you can sneak off to have some premarital sex?” She cackles at their awed faces.  “You know, once I about got pregnant in the janitor’s closet across the hall.  Scared me half to death.  Good for you that the two of you have two ying-yangs and no baby maker.  If I had one myself, I’d be having so much more sex.  Wouldn’t want to have the balls, though.  Don’t know how you guys sit with those things.”  

Neither of them speak, just remain their wide-eyed, innocent little selves.  April has always known how to leave men speechless.  She considers it one of her gifts in life.  She should really put that in her next resume.  Ha! Like she’ll ever get a real job.  

“You know,” she says, pushing right between them.  “If you kids were ten years older - I’d be propositioning you for a lovely evening, if you know what I mean.  I just want to smack those little tushes.  Oh goodness, did I say that or think it?” 

A bewildered Kurt answers her.  “Said it.” 

“Damn, still haven’t mastered using the inside head voice,” she laughs again.  Not helping herself, she grabs onto Kurt’s arm and gives it a bit of a squeeze.  “Ooh, feels like you’ve put those old magazines I gave you to good use - though I hope you used them for their intended purpose.” She gives a wink and a nudge to Kurt, who rolls his eyes.  

Blaine looks utterly confused.  “What is she talking about?” 

“Pretty sure she’s consistently too drunk to know,” Kurt replies.  

“Bah,” she waves her hand at him.  “Blaine, I’m disappointed that Kurt hasn’t shown you his secret stash of the porn.  Well, it’s like PG-porn, but still.  A kid has got to get started somewhere.  I’ll have to send more for your first anniversary.  Which reminds me - I need to bestow on you my three rules for having a good marriage.” 

Kurt raises an eyebrow at her.  “Have you even been married?” 

“No!” She laughs, and shakes her head, amused at herself.  Then looks over to Blaine.  “First rule, sweetie, you have to get this one to lighten up.  I recommend a really nice bottle of Chardonnay.  MMmmm, can’t go wrong with that.” 

“Really?” Blaine says with slight interest.  

“Don’t encourage her,” Kurt scolds.  Gah, she remembers when he was younger and a lot more fun.  

“Two,” she continues.  “One of you is going to have to make a lot of money, or you both will be straying to a couple of sugar daddies.  I mean, I’ve had plenty of loves in my life, but Buddy really was the best one.  He had money coming out his butt, and he didn’t mind just a hand job now.  I mean, hell, I only saw the guy once a week.  Which brings me to my third rule - separate houses.  They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.” 

Blaine looks fearfully to Kurt.  “This is sounding like terrible advice.” 

“Well, it’s not like people are coming in droves for my good advice, sweetie,” she says, pinching his cheek.  “If I’m being completely honest, I don’t miss Buddy all that much.  I’m free as a bird and preferring it that way.  Will Schuester says I don’t need a man, and even though I’ve always had one, maybe it’s time to really spread my wings.  Getting hitched makes for a nice moment in a scrapbook, but then you’re stuck with that person until divorce or death and neither one is pleasant. Listen to me go on like the sad, old broad that I am.   Oh god, I think the buzz is wearing off -- can I get back that hooch I gave you for a wedding present?” 

“No,” they say in unison. 

“Damn.  I’ll have to go grab the bottle I left back in that bush next to the entrance.  I’ll be right back…” 

#99 perspectives #s.o. writes things #glad i was able to get this one done so quickly #i'll be gone all day

[simibraun]

Attack on Titan, chapter 137 analysis.

Chapter 137 has put everyone to thoughts by giving the answer which is so obvious and simple, an answer that is right before our eyes every single day, regarding the meaning of life and its beautiful simplicity. This chapter has some beautiful parts and I feel that Isayama completes my complex thoughts as a human being. After all, this is why I am so passionate about the story of Attack on Titan, because in one way or another, in the last 11 years reading his story, Isayama described to me, teached me, gave me answers and helped me in his way, to understand my journey in life. I have a lot say and I could write endless things regarding this matter, but I expressed many things in the following texts, regarding the conversation between Zeke and Armin, which is the most interesting part of this chapter. The following texts are a mixture of chapter analysis and personal expression. Let's begin with the quote Zeke said: “Maybe the end of your days are being manipulated.. all in the name of multiplication. Without ever knowing if it means anything at all.” The meaning of life sure is a complicated matter, but as far as we can understand life, a human is able to give and leave behind more things to this world, than just multiplication. A man is born to feel the completeness of his/her journey in life. But nowadays we are mostly lost in the heaviness of a dark life that we created by our own actions or created by others. We forgot the beautiful, meaningful and simple things that exist in our world and we lost our connection to them. Isayama made a story that most of it contains life struggles, we felt many times sadness and heartbroken while reading a chapter. The things that happen in his story and the experiences of his characters, are reflections of our reality and in each reflection, there is a part of us or a part of someone we know. Those reflections evoke to us the emotions from something that happened in our life, and we keep it in our memories. We too struggle in our reality, nowadays we are so busy dealing with problems and we mostly forget to observe and enjoy the beauty of the simplicity that surrounds us, because we are lost in worries and we are blinded by fake sights. I bet you can feel it too, you can see it too, how our daily life is filled mostly with problems, antagonism, people with fake personalities who cannot  even understand their own selves, showing something that they are not. And the result? Spreading misconception which can lead to hatred, setting high standards, do bad actions only to offend other people and see their downfall. That is something that happens too in the story of Attack on Titan, we see reflections of our reality. A human is not born to be lost in the worries and heaviness of a cruel world, which is something that has been created by his own actions. A human is born to connect to life, create, daydream, philosophize and feel its completeness in his/her journey. When Armin held that leaf and then the baseball, he said while showing it to Zeke: “To my eyes, even if there's no need for something like this in order to multiply, it's still something incredibly precious.” And Zeke said: “It doesn't mean a thing but.. you are right.” Reading this part, I can only think of how it is also in our reality, how some people became pragmatists-realists to the point as if they are paralyzed in their own thoughts and cannot allow themselves see and feel the simple beauties in life, feel fondness towards something. Some people cannot understand someone's fondness-affection towards some things. They believe that some things we love, are meaningless, because they don't have a specific purpose in life, rather than just being lifeless objects. You can see it every day around you, each one of us has different interests, different passions, some people may even ask you about the things you love and cannot understand why you love them so much. Regarding the things I love, these are some of the questions I've been asked and not only from people I don't know that much but from people who are very close to me: “Why do you buy all this merch?” ”Why would you spend so much money for these stuff?” “Why are you so obsessed with this anime-character?” “Why do people give you their money, to draw them a fictional character?” “It's funny how you people get so obsessed with these things, why do they even pay you to draw something that is not based in real life people or events? Let me bring you back to reality, they don't exist, there's no meaning to it.” To each one of these questions, the answer is: “Because in every part of these things, are memories and memories evoke emotions." and it's also the opposite, there are emotions that evoke memories. There are some things that people fail to understand, even if they think they do and still they believe that the things we love are meaningless, in reality they are not. A memory is evoked by emotions that are connected to something that happened in our life. Be it a story, a fictional character, an object, an image, these things can connect us to those memories, those emotions that we once felt and to life in general. This is why we love owning some things and are passionate about them, because we see a part of ourselves, they make us feel comfortable, they remind us beautiful memories and emotions, simply they give us life. Nothing is meaningless, no matter if some people cannot understand some things, the emotions that are being evoked through the things we love, will always be personal, not everyone is able to understand them completely and we don't always have to explain to them, simply because they are personal, only we are able understand them deeply. Those who have been following me throughout the years, you may remember some of my comments or talking on livestreams regarding this story, that the reasons for being so passionate with AoT and feeling so attached to it, are reasons so deep and personal. Armin describes his memories, about enjoying the simplicity in life and when describing those moments, he feels peaceful. We often recall memories that evoke a nostalgic feeling about the good old days and somehow, even for a moment, we feel as if we are there living that moment again and we feel peaceful and complete. Those are the moments that connect us in life. As Armin describes some of his beautiful memories and thoughts to Zeke, I want also to describe to you some of mine. Memories that I keep remembering and still cling to them. Some of the memories I keep remembering, are the days I've spent in nature when I was younger, my first house was right in front of the sea, so daily I used to play around the shore and on the other side of the sea, was visible mount Olympus. What a beautiful sight it was. There was a small harbor close to my house and I remember we dived there with the other kids from the village to take out the starfish that were laying on the harbor, we brought them out to the shore and we observed how they were moving their legs and slowly went back to the sea. As Zeke misses and feels about Ksaver, that's how I feel about my grandfather, I remember how I walked with him and his two dogs in a beautiful forest that was close to his house, and specifically I remember the image of a path we walked deep inside the forest. The image of sunlight falling among the branches still frames my thoughts so clearly. I really miss him and those moments, I even saw these memories in my dreams. It felt like I was living it again. Another memory of a village I used to visit, which is among mountains, we used to climb on the mountain's slopes with some kids and we had a specific spot of a rock that was very slippery. We called it “the slide” it was our playground. As Armin remembers that sweet warm breeze, I can also remember that chilly breeze of those moments in the mountain and the sight of its wild nature. I sure cannot forget these memories. Every time I think of them, I feel peaceful, moments so simple yet they make me feel complete, because I was completely connected with life. I remember someone asked me a question on one of my IG livestreams: “What is inspiring you? How do you convey your inspiration into art?” and here also, with this chapter Isayama completes my answer to this question: I said that, anywhere I go, be it for a walk, travel somewhere, even when I just have to go to work, from the moment I step out, I observe everything around me. I don't like to look down as I walk, if I do, it will be only because I am lost to some thoughts that take me to another place. I always observe the things around me, observe the sky and its colors, the clouds and the sunlight, the birds flying, I observe the flowers how they dance in the breeze, I will catch a glimpse of the gaze from the person walking past next to me, sometimes I see beautiful sad gazes, sometimes bright ones, sometimes a smile, it's as if I live in my own world and I see everything in a cinematic view. I love observing, and I love to see things beyond of what I observe, I love trying to understand the deeper part of what I see. And all these emotions along with personal experiences, make me create worlds in my mind that I convey into art. I guess this is why I am so passionate about this story, because it completes my complex thoughts. When Zeke says “So I suppose, I'll thank you. Dad..” to Grisha, it's like what we are used to say regarding some of the hardships that we've been through. That no matter how rough some of our experiences have been, in the end, these experiences made us who we are now and made us stronger. We saw and understood a different part and meaning in life. If Zeke wouldn't have been through those hardships from Grisha, he wouldn't have met and have those precious moments with Ksaver. Although, sometimes we wish that it would be preferable not to have been through these hard times, but still, isn't it somehow a magical thing that we are able to feel such deep emotions that were evoked through hardships? A human is made and is capable to withstand all the hardships of the world. This is also a part of life, to be able to understand its different perspectives, both good and bad ones. These moments and memories give me joy, and I want to continue to create more beautiful memories, even if there will be sad ones too and even if I've been through really tough hardships so far, I still want to feel its completeness. Which beautiful memories and experiences, are the ones that you keep remembering, have the nostalgia to go back to and live them again? The ones you think about, are the ones that prove that you were truly connected to life. Thank you for reading my thoughts.

#attack on titan #aot137 analysis #armin arlert #zeke yeager #snk #my thoughts

[creativeashproductions]

A Distant Dream II // Luke Patterson

Summary: In 1994 seventeen year old Luke Patterson had once again tried to ask out the girl that held his heart. With the belief he would see the younger Mercer girl the next morning he decides wait to confess his feelings. Only to have soft music bewitched the reader into an antique wardrobe with lots of history.

Warnings: Swearing, talk of pregnancy, cops, strict parents, and angst 

Words: 3.1k

A/N: I’m thinking maybe four or five more parts following this. I really fell back into a Narnia hole recently.

Part One

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Masterlist

Julie Molina didn't mean to snoop in Luke's things at all, but her elbow had bumped his backpack to the ground. A worn picture had escaped the open bag to float next to her foot. Her deft fingers picked the photo of Alex standing with a girl laughing at something out of frame. The jacket the girl wore was familiar to Julie as she had seen Luke wear it.

Her throws furrowed as she turned the picture to the back to see the writing on the back in legible black sharpie.

Y/N and Alex Mercer, Downtown Los Angeles 1993

Julie's took a guess that the girl was-

"What the hell Julie?" Luke's furious tone took the girl by surprise, but it was the rush to yank the picture from her hand. The guitarist flooded with the familiar grief that was never too far from his mind, it had been one a year to him instead of twenty-six.

The picture was cradled in the guitarist's hands as he pinned a nasty glare on his living friend as if she had kicked his puppy. Behind him stood Alex and Reggie becoming quiet at the picture in Luke's hand. The tears started to fill Alex's eyes as he vividly remembered the night when the picture had been taken.

Alex slung his arm around his sister's shoulders with the identical grin on display as Bobby and Reggie slumped over a paper. You had a feeling it was a song that Reggie had written and Bobby loved being able to give his input on the music. Something he didn't get to do with Luke. With that name in mind, you turned to the guitarist lazing around on a couch.

The band had finished a three-song set for a local club that often turned their cheek to minors walking in. It had taken a lot of manoeuvring, but you had been able to sneak inside to add the band to the list.

"Can you believe this?" Alex gleefully laughed, looking around the packed backstage room they had snagged. They had it for another five minutes, and the band ate it up as if they had already made it in the business.

"I can't believe you guys actually made this happen." You breathed before a laugh escaped your mouth at Reggie, pulling a face at you. The blinding flash bringing your attention to the boy holding the camera you had received as a gift.

"Always a great candid with you!" Luke announced shoving the camera in his backpack with a cheeky grin aimed directly at you, "We better split before security catches us."

"I thought they knew we were here!" Alex exclaimed rushing to grab his things with all bad ideas conjuring in his head. Being in the band annoyed your parents so if he ended up arrested he'd be shipped off to a behavioural boarding school.

He saw himself in a prison cell after being arrested. His mind going to the worst-case scenario instead of only being kicked out instead.

"If you knew the truth, you wouldn't have been able to sit still." Luke retorted as the sound of footsteps sounded outside the room. Luke's eyes scanning the room for any kind of solution to their problem.

 With no safe exit, the five teenagers shuffled into the small bathroom with a big window that opened. Luke was quick to push Bobby and Reggie out first. He went next stationing himself to catch you before Alex was pacing in the bathroom alone.

"C'mon man!" Luke whispered to the blonde drummer glancing between the open window and the door separating him from security.

"If our parents have to pick us up from the cops, we are dead, Luke!" Alex hissed wincing at the loud knock on the door, "They barely condone being a band let alone getting arrested. We'd be in boarding school before you could say Orpheum!"

"Then get your ass down here!" Luke retorted jumping in place as Alex debated his options, but he slipped out the window with a sigh. The group running off with the sound of security hanging out the window screaming at the teenagers. His hand encased in Y/N Mercer's own soft hand.

"That's Y/N." Alex's voice was soft to the Puerto Rican's ears with his eyes a more delicate blue giving Julie the impression he was mostly lost in thought, "My little sister."

Julie's eyes shifted between the three ghostly boys all quieter than anything Julie had ever encountered with them. The only other time Julie had seen Luke so sad was when Alex and Reggie brought her to Luke's childhood home. It was unsettling to see the usual happy go lucky boy drained of energy.

"Did you find her?" Julie asked recalling that Alex had been the only one so far to not attempt to find his family. Reggie had told Julie how his house turned into a bike shack but other than that the subject wasn't brought up.

"She disappeared in 1994." Luke choked out, clenching his eyes tight at the last smile he saw on your face. The one that was seared in his mind with the regret of never taking his chance with you.

Twenty-six years didn't wipe the deep feelings he still held for the girl who had disappeared with his heart. Attempts to find her futile leaving her state just as unknown as back in the '90s. The case had been long cold with the years erasing her memory from people as they moved on.

"Did she-"

"We don't know. One night she just disappeared with no clues." Reggie supplied finding himself to be the only one able to speak. Luke and Alex overtook by the flood of grief and guilt that came every time they grew strong enough to mention her name.

"I can look for her if you want." Julie offered to the trio, "If she's living she may have social media. More likely Facebook with her age but if I can get-"

"No." Luke and Alex spoke at the same time with equal passion in their voices, but it was Luke that continued, "I don't want to know."

Julie's lips parted, but Luke already left with Alex in tow by the grasp on his distressed jean jacket. The Mercer boy sending a smile of gratitude, leaving Reggie alone with her.

"I'd like to know." Reggie softly spoke, meeting the gaze of the living girl, "Maybe that's why we're here too. To find the truth about her disappearance and if we find something, we can tell them."

The shadowed pain in his eyes creating a yearning in Julie's heart, "Of course. Can you tell me about her? I could build a portfolio on possible places she's been."

"Her disappearance was a catalyst for a lot of things that happened." Reggie admitted breaking his usual carefree and clueless demeanour, "Alex and Y/N aren't twins. She was a year younger than us but where one sibling went, so did the other. They understood each other more than the band could ever know."

"Why hasn't Alex talked about her?"

"It's hard. The world in the '90s is very different from this time. We've mentioned bits and pieces of our lives, but you don't know the darker pieces."

Julie listened intently as Reggie was the most serious she had ever seen him, showing her that there was more to Reggie Peters than he let on. Julie felt honoured he trusted her enough to drop his guard that he held up strong.

"Mr. and Mrs. Mercer had certain beliefs that their family should hold and show the rest of the world. Before the band, Alex and Y/N were shells of their real selves laced into designer clothing, perfect grades, charity galas and their futures already written."

"So, they came from money? Galas and designer clothing." Julie rolled her eyes, "What was so bad about that?"

"Just because they had money didn't mean they weren't suffering. Anything less than 98% was a failure to Mr. Mercer. By the time Y/N was thirteen, she was trained on how to be a perfect lady. Alex wasn't supposed to play the drums, both he and Y/N were classically trained on piano and violin." Reggie recalled, "The first time Alex held drumsticks it was like he shattered the glass window of the tank he was drowning in."

"What about Y/N?" Julie questioned, wrapping her arms around her knees as she watched Reggie melted into the memories he fondly held dear in his heart.

"She stayed in her tank drowning, so Alex didn't have to be alone." Reggie simply replied a fond smile reappearing at the days you would dedicate to solely to him.

Reggie didn't like to talk about the things that went on behind the doors of his idyllic beach house. You just knew and gave him days that let him step out of the fear of the unknown. He didn't have to put up his front like he did with the guys, he got to be unapologetically Reginald Peters. The boy that had wished his parents would stop fighting and be that happy family once more, but his wishes never got answered.

"She sounds like a really cool person."

"Luke and she had this unspoken relationship that never evolved into more. Both too scared the other didn't feel the same. The night she disappeared, he was going to tell her he loved her. When it didn't happen, he was going to do it the next morning."

 "But she was never found. What do you think happened?" Julie questioned the Peters boy who's smile dropped. His mind flipping through all the what-ifs that had lived in his brain for the entire year before he died.

"I think she ran into trouble and couldn't find a way out. I only hope if she passed away, it was easy and quick." Reggie finished instantly flipping the switch back to his usual oblivious façade used as his coping mechanism.

"I was thinking we could work on that song?" Luke piped up as he and Alex both poofed back into the studio as if the last hour hadn't happened. Both their pain neatly placed back in that box in their brains the light barely caught a glance at.

As Sunset Curve poured themselves into the song, they worked on together deep in the basement of the Molina's a sound lightly filled the space. The sound of a celebration heard with the backing of upbeat trumpets followed by a laugh. A soft golden glow lighting up the dark basement through a sheet protecting an antique piece of furniture.

The Golden Age, Cair Paravel, Narnia

The House of Pevensie ruled fairly and justly for a decade and a half together with High King Peter and his Queen, you, by his side. Never one to cower from a battle you were often found by Peter's side holding the sword and the bow strapped over your back. Both items gifts from Father Christmas back during the Winter Rebellion against the White Witch.

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. In the year 1015 of the Golden Age, the Kings and Queens of Narnia set out on a hunt. Leaving the daily duties to their court, the Pevensie family decided to hunt the magical White Stag. It was a break from the stress of ruling and failing to provide an heir to the kingdom for you and Peter.

"How are you?" Susan questioned slowly to a trot beside you and your horse Mercer. The question flaring frustration once more in your body.

"I am fine, Susan." You sighed looking ahead to where Peter was speaking with Edmund and Lucy animatedly. His blue eyes raising to meet yours with the fondness that had evolved from the love.

The courtship that turned into marriage had mellowed from the way it had been in your early '20s. At thirty-one, you found that what you had thought was everlasting love was simply just two teenagers with mutual attraction. The only two that understood each other coming from a different place than Narnia.

You still loved Peter, but something made you feel as if he wasn't the first man you had loved and certainly not as much as this nameless person. Overtime Peter and you came to the same conclusion, you ruled as before. You loved each other but not as fiercely as before with the kingdom's responsibilities, placing the relationship on the back burner.

You had years to fix it, however. That's the excuse you always told herself when the guilt of thinking of another.

"The last person to the White Stag has to sit through O'Rielly's draft of his speech," Edmund called out before racing off with his trusted horse Philip taking the lead. Only momentarily as Peter first overtook him.

Mercer swiftly brought you up right behind Peter with a grin on both of your faces.

"Ed, as usual, makes his declaration and can't keep up!" You called over your shoulder at the twenty-eight-year-old King.

His response is a teasing eye roll as he leaned over to caress Philip, "Are you all right, Philip?"

"I'm not as young as I once was." The dashing dark brown horse huffed to his rider as he shifts on his hooves returning to his confident stance—the other royal horses returning to Edmund's side as well. Mercer immediately stepping up on Philip's left flank with a soft sound of acknowledgement.

"Come on, Ed," Susan spoke barely giving Philip a look as she had known for a while that it may be time for Philip to retire. For Philip to choose his successor to serve his King, but it was hard for Edmund to think of Philip retiring.

"Just catching my breath," Edmund informed his cheery older sister patting Philip once more before sitting up straight in the saddle. His brown eyes scanning the surroundings hugging the family in warmth reminiscent of his mother's arms.

"That'll be all we'll catch at this rate." Susan retorted copying Edmund by patting her horse's head earning a thankful neigh in response. The teasing grin lighting up Susan's pretty features that had many a suitor at the castle for her hand in marriage.

"What did he say again, Susan?" Lucy inquired with rosy cheeks from the autumn wind hitting from the exhilaration of riding. Coming to a stop beside the youngest royal, your hand found a home in Peter's calloused one.

"I believe he underestimated us as usual." You inserted sharing a smile with both your sisters-in-laws, "I can't quite recall the words…Susan, would you recall them?"

"' you girls wait in the castle. I'll get the stag myself' were his words with his cheeky smile." Susan replied. Unlike when Edmund was thirteen, he joyfully joined in the laughter filling the woods of Narnia.

Your eyes scanning the area that tickled a faint memory of a girl wearing unusual clothing in the kingdom. A shirt that bared your skin in the dead of winter. The shirt paired with a short skirt of a similar colour to another young woman. Your attention brought Peter's to the landscape as well. So curious the High King dismounted his horse and helped you down. 

 "What's this?" Peter inquired stepping closer to a tall pole with a lamp lit up with a flame. Covered in vines it was nearly invisible to the eye unless you looked up, "It seems familiar. Love, do you know what it is?"

"I don't remember it. I've seen it but how I did evades me." You replied, stepping closer to the lamppost. Susan was quick to step up beside you just as confused.

"As if from a dream?" Susan spoke, earning a mute nod from you as that same faceless man flickered in your memory. The one that haunted your dreams with the odd cameo of a blonde man.

Your eyes returning the horse you named Mercer as the name held an emotional connection you never understood. Often you would have a memory tickle your brain before disappearing with tasks to be done at the castle. When you saw the back of a blonde in crowds, you felt sad and lost. Or feeling Peter's hand in your own fluttering your heart until your e/c eyes found his bright blue and the fluttering died down.

"Of a dream of a dream," Lucy spoke, turning on her heel to the vast trees concealing the beyond. Lucy spoke barely louder than a whisper, "Spare Oom."

With that, the youngest Queen raced off through the woods with her family on her heels. 

"Lucy!" Peter admonished the retreating form of his little sister in her blood-red dress. A deep sigh pulled from your lips as the free-spirited woman ignored their calls.

"Every time. I swear she's still a kid at heart." You spoke jogging alongside Edmund behind Susan and Peter. Your midnight blue dress barely touching the grass of the forest floor.

"You're a kid at heart as well." Edmund merely replied, keeping his eyes on the bright colours of the royal garb his siblings wore.

"Come on!" Lucy's voice called out through the branches that slowly but surely turned softer and the trees tapered smaller.

"These aren't branches!" Peter called out in his deep voice that temporally turned higher before it went back to the gravelly tone. You swore with everything inside his hands became softer and harder to grasp.

"Keen observation there." You retorted taken aback at the attitude you found infused in your voice as if you a teenager once more. Peter's surprise quickly found in his blue eyes that glanced over his shoulder.

"Ow! Ooh!" Edmund hissed as a branch scraped his cheeks and the pain vanished with the soft touch of fur on the scratch. The sudden change of texture startled him almost as the switch of his voice to the high pitch of his thirteen-year-old self.

"They're coats! Fur coats!" Susan gasped startled by the odd shift between the forest and whatever this place was. 

"Mrs. Beaver would throw a fit over th- Ow! Lucy, you elbowed my ribs!" You whined stumbling into Peter's side as the others complained at each other hitting, stepping and kicking as the area became smaller and smaller.

Your eyes raising to meet Peter's blue taken aback by his appearance back when you had fought side by side against the White Witch. The eyes that kept rapt with yours at the coronation fifteen years ago and then your wedding ten years previous. 

Then behind the siblings in front of you, a door opened to a large empty room with windows behind framing a rural countryside. Then your husband and in-laws were gone, and you fell out with memories from a lost life hitting you full force as you tripped out of the wardrobe. 

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#luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #peter pevensie imagines #narnia #jatp fanfic #julie and the phantoms imagines #charlie gillespie imagines #luke patterson #narnia imagines #peter pevensie #caitsy and ash productions

[justoneofthoseghosts]

remember me + brettsey

A/N: Did I totally turn this into something else? Maybe but it’s still remembering someone so please keep that in mind.

“Hey, you okay?”

Matt glances over at Sylvie next to him. She interlaces her fingers in his and squeezes his hand supportively, a small smile playing on her lips as if to reassure him it's going to be fine.

Matt lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, “yeah, it’s just that it’s been a while since I last came here.”

It’s a cool spring day, sunny and cloudless. There’s a light breeze blowing. Matt can hear the leaves rustling softly in the background. He looks down at the bouquet of flowers in his hand - stargazers, her favorite. Sylvie helps him pick them out at the flower shop this morning. He fixes his gaze forward next, squeezing Sylvie’s hand for comfort.

He reads the tombstone silently.

Hallie Thomas 1981 - 2013 Daughter, Sister, Friend

He thinks he’ll always miss her. Since Hallie passed, he’s made it a point to keep visiting and this year, he decided it would be on her death anniversary. When he told Sylvie, she offered to go with him without batting an eyelash and his love for her grew tenfold.

He recalls some of his conversations with Hallie. How they first met. How she called Petter Mills a sneaky little bastard. How she came back from South America and they tried to rekindle their relationship little by little until the fire at the clinic ended it in the worst way possible.

He wonders now if he can still recollect Hallie’s laugh, how her eyes would sparkle in mirth after he made a particularly bad joke. He thinks he’s forgotten the exact shade of green of her eyes - were they more sea foam or moss? He wants badly to remember it all, to etch it all in his mind, in his heart because he loved her a lot. They might never have gotten married even if she ad survived but he thinks they would have stayed really good friends.

“Talk to me,” Sylvie prods gently.

“I think sometimes I’m unconsciously erasing Hallie from my life. There are things about her that I’ve started to forget like how hard she studied to be a doctor or how much she loved a good reuben sandwich,” Matt admits.

He looks at Sylvie, trying to scrutinize her reaction to his confession that he doesn’t want to forget someone he loved and had been in a romantic relationship with for years before her. If it had been anyone else, he would never have said it out loud.

Sylvie smiles at him warmly, her blue eyes sincere. Any remaining doubt in Matt’s mind that she’ll feel jealous, angry or won’t understand disappears.

“You may not remember all these little details, Matt, but she’ll forever be in there,” Sylvie mentions as she points to his chest where his heart is, “and that’s what's important at the end of the day.”

He places his arm over her shoulder and hugs her to his side, “you’re too good for me, Sylvie Brett.”

A few weeks later, while looking for something in one of the drawers in their den, he notices a new framed photo sitting on top of it, co-mingling with the other photos Sylvie had initially placed there.

When they moved in together, Sylvie had gathered a few photos and took the time to visit vintage shops around Chicago to look for the perfect frames. There’s one photo of the second shift at 51 outside the firehouse, all smiles during a sunny day in July. One of a younger Christie and Matt carrying a chubby, baby Violet. A frame with Julie and Sylvie and another with Matt, Sylvie, Amelia and Scott during their last visit to Rockford for the little girl’s 3rd birthday.

He examines the new addition closer. A lump forms in his throat when he realizes it’s an old photo of himself, Kelly, Andy, Heather and Hallie from a CFD picnic. Hallie is smiling at the camera, in a sleeveless teal colored tank stop, her skin tanned. Matt’s arm was around her, a beer in his other hand.

Sylvie must have gotten a copy from Kelly. He looks at their younger selves, so full of promise and hope, ready to take on the world.

His heart bursts in gratitude.

Matt goes off to find Sylvie, recalling that she mentioned something about doing laundry. He heads for the small room where their washer and dryer is located opening the door and peering inside. He observes quietly as Sylvie moves clothes from the washer into the dryer methodically and closes the dryer door, turning it on.

She pivots and gasps.

“Matt! You scared me,” she says clutching her chest.

Matt grins, “I didn’t mean to.”

Sylvie playfully glares at him before noticing the sudden change in his facial features as it grows more serious, “what’s on your mind, Captain?”

“I saw the new photo in the den.”

Sylvie tilts her head, “I know you were worried that one day you might wake up and forget who Hallie was so I thought a little keepsake wouldn’t hurt.”

Again, he feels his love for Sylvie grow exponentially because she always knows what to do and what to say in the moments when Matt feels helpless. He thinks Hallie and Sylvie would have gotten along well.

“I love you,” he says, pulling her closer.

“I love you too.”

Matt never tires of telling her this or her saying it back. He loves her even more now because she taught him that he can make space for as many people as he wants in his heart and that they'll always stay there come what may.

Leave me a prompt 🌺

#chicago fire #brettsey #fanfic prompt #hallie really deserved much better

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

some scattered thoughts about what i’ve started calling the homecoming au, that au where maedhros and maglor come back to tirion after the war of wrath, end up prisoners-in-all-but-name in finarfin’s palace, and nothing is beautiful and everything hurts. credit for @sunflowersupremes for writing the au that for lack of a better word inspired me, credit to @outofangband for listening to me blather about this over dms, warning to everybody, this au is dark. it’s essentially about maedhros and maglor being abused for being mentally ill, talk of suicide, late stage fëanorians somehow getting worse, generally not a fun time. caveat lector

i feel like it’s worth emphasising that by the end of the war of wrath maedhros and maglor are in a bad, bad mental state

they’re so inured to violence death means nothing to them, and neither of them really remembers what it feels like to be happy. they’ve lost everything, whether to the fires of war or the maw of the oath. there are so many things maglor can’t let himself think about or he’ll tip off the precipice into madness, so many things maedhros has quietly put aside to deal with after the end of the world. they’ve got nothing left but ash and nowhere to go but their own destruction. they’re fully aware of the monsters they are, and they loathe those monsters as much as anyone else

finarfin’s offer of mercy feels like a miracle. it’s a way - it’s a way out, first and foremost, a way to somewhere else, because what could possibly be worse than this? maybe it’s even a way back to the dreamlike world of their childhood, when they were more than their sharp edges and they could look on the future without despair. i figure this is an au where maglor won that last argument, predicated entirely on the possibility of an existence without pain

maedhros is skeptical, but logics himself into going along. on one condition

‘please’ maglor tells their uncle, trying to let his guard down and show as much vulnerability as his pride will allow. ‘do not give us to the valar’

he’s more successful than he realises. the last remaining sons of fëanor have been growing visibly more and more unstable for decades now. even the elves who were once their closest lieutenants approach them with caution now

finarfin catches a glimpse of what his nephews have become. he makes a conscious decision to choose pity over fear

which - yeah, alright. maglor and maedhros need therapy, they need to process their emotions in healthy ways and build selves they can be comfortable in the skins of again. and the general mood in tirion is one of reconciliation. it was the younger generation that went to beleriand, so many people have children they feel like they’ve failed

but if they can un-fail these two, maybe there’s hope. maybe there’s a chance for them to heal

except, well. nobody who stayed in aman - nobody who’s seen cuiviénen, really, beleriand was nasty - can really process just how much healing needs to be done

like. i’ve said this before, but screeching furiously at each other at high volume for multiple hours is a regular thing maedhros and maglor do. they’re the last people in the world either of them is even slightly close to, their relationship is shot through with as much bitter hate as it is steady reliance, and really, who else can they yell at

it’s a maladaptive coping mechanism. their minders recognise this inside five minutes, i’ll give them that much

it’s just. their eventual method of stopping the fight, after trying and failing to talk the brothers down, is to jump them and gag them to stop them making so much noise

partially they were worried it might escalate into a physical fight, which to be fair, these screaming matches occasionally do. but partially they just wanted them to stop

(this is the first really big incident, but things have been subtly, uncomfortably wrong for a while now. there’s this vibe that everything would be so much easier if the brothers just behaved. acted like the nice normal princes they used to be)

(but they can’t. they’re trying (well, maglor is; maedhros is mostly going along out of resignation) but they can’t. and when all the little tensions of this supposed-to-be-happy-ending get too much, they take it out on each other, like they always do. what are they supposed to do, unleash their own corruption onto the innocent valinoreans?)

(as is usual with these shriekfests, it got vicious fast. it was maedhros saying that he should have just killed the both of them back in beleriand that makes their minders decide they have to stop this now)

the whole situation’s a mess. the way the non-exile noldor are thinking, if they can just put all the unpleasantness behind them, things can go back to normal and they can forget any of this ever happened

the valinoreans are trying to help, you understand. it’s just that their definition of ‘help’ involves sweeping everything under the rug so they can all be happy again

and everything the brothers do to remind people of all that makes them... uncomfortable

maedhros and maglor are never left alone. there’s always someone within at least hearing distance, keeping an eye on them. they initially say it’s for the brothers’ own benefit - so there’s always someone nearby in case they need help, like - but the first time maglor gets so frustrated he starts trashing his room he is immediately seized

the valinoreans get very good at stopping the brothers from doing the thing. they are less good at addressing the reasons why the brothers feel the need to do the thing

maglor is by far the angrier of the two. when he has a bad day, everyone around him knows it. he snarks, he glares at people from corners, he refuses to be at all cooperative. even on his good days, his mood never goes far above ‘melancholic’

maedhros, on the other hand, is quiet. he does what people tell him to, mostly. he sits in place and acts the perfect patient and only occasionally tries to kill himself. a poisonous plant picked here, a window’s lock subtly fiddled with there, he’s good at waiting for his minders to lower their guard enough he can take a chance

(neither of them are particularly violent towards the valinoreans to begin with, and their violent tendencies towards themselves, each other, and inanimate objects quickly recede. lashing out like that always, always makes things worse)

sometimes he’ll regress back into behaviours he learned in angband. the first time this happens and the valinoreans figure out what’s going on, he gets a very polite finarfin asking him to please stop equating them with the enemy, finarfin knows they aren’t settling in as well as they might but it’s very offensive to be compared to morgoth

still, they learn. there’s this one incident when maedhros is having a fit, and while all their minders are running about trying to make him stop, maglor, who happens to be in the room, is standing completely still, staring at nothing

one of the minders snaps ‘come on, help! don’t you care about your brother?’

... he does. they’re closer now than they were in beleriand, leaning against each others’ bodies, quietly holding hands. the palace is full of people all the time, but they’re still so isolated from the rest of the world

it’s just hard to protect someone else when you’re barely hanging on yourself

you ever write a perfect closing line, and also it’s 1:30 am? yep, yep, i’m going to bed. more tomorrow, i’d guesstimate three parts in total

#homecoming au #suicide /// #abuse /// #mental health issues /// #ableism /// #late stage feanorians #maedhros #maglor #finarfin #noldor #this ain't gonna get any prettier #my terrible fic

[denimbex1986]

'Currently streaming on Disney+ is the LGBTQ+ British romantic fantasy-drama, All of Us Strangers. Written and directed by Andrew Haigh, and based on Taichi Yamada’s novel, Strangers, the movie stars Andrew Scott, Paul Mescal, Jamie Bell, and Claire Foy, and follows the story of a lonely screenwriter looking back to the past.

In the movie, Adam is a film and television screenwriter who lives a quiet, secluded life in a block of flats in London. Adam keeps himself to himself, but over time starts to develop a romantic relationship with his neighbour Harry

When he’s not seeing Harry, Adam is working on a new script about his parents. His mother and father died in a car accident just before Adam turned 12, but he wants to feature them in his next story.

As Adam delves deeper into the past, he revisits his childhood home, where he is inexplicably met by his parents. They look exactly as he remembers them, their house still maintains an 1980s aesthetic, and he is able to reconnect with them after all these years apart.

Over the coming days, Adam spends more time with his mum and dad getting to know them. In turn, he shares aspects of his current place in life, as an openly gay man who is embarking on a new relationship.

Every once in a while a movie comes along which not only impresses, but also knocks you for six. One of these movies is All of Us Strangers – an emotionally charged picture, which talks the talk, walks the walk, and gets under the skin.

All of Us Strangers is without doubt a superb film. It tells a story of loss, grief, acceptance, and love, which is all expertly overseen by filmmaker Andrew Haigh and played out by his brilliant cast.

The picture is a true rollercoaster ride which takes audiences to some moving and surprising places. It blends together fantasy and romance, along with sorrow and nostalgia, to create a remarkable tale which doesn’t put a foot wrong.

At the heart of the story is Adam’s interactions with his parents, who appear throughout the majority of the movie in an unexplained way. One minute Adam tells Harry his parents died when he was young, the next minute they appear on screen as their younger selves, and the film just asks you to go along with it.

Are they ghosts? Has he somehow travelled back to the 1980s? Is he having a breakdown? Or could it be something else? It all gets explained eventually, but for a considerable time the audience is left to contemplate the outcome.

While that contemplation takes place, the movie gives Adam the opportunity to spend time with his mum and dad. Here is able to share his life with them, and work through various thoughts, feelings, and emotions which have built up inside him over the years.

The death of Adam’s parents robbed him of various milestones and discussions throughout his teenage/adult years, but now he is able to get some of this missed time back. He can have frank and open conversations with them, particularly when it comes to his sexuality, and is able to communicate about the ups and downs of living through the ‘80s and ‘90s as a homosexual.

One of the most moving conversations in the movie involves a ‘coming out’ scene between Adam and his mother. Sat around the kitchen table, Adam explains that he is gay to his perplexed mum who finds it all very surprising.

With this scene, which is set within an ‘80s bubble, Adam has to deal with outdated attitudes and stereotypes which are now (thankfully) a thing of the past. The conversation touches upon the AIDS crisis and the belief that homosexuals lead a lonely life, and Adam gets to experience what it would have been like telling his mother the truth when the world thought very differently.

This scene is a difficult one to watch, but one of many in the film which really nails the importance of having conversations with your nearest and dearest while you can. This film is all about the need to address things which are often left unsaid, but should be shared with those you love.

Leading the film is the marvellous quartet of Scott, Mescal, Bell, and Foy. Each actor brings so much to the screen and they make their parts their own.

But as good as they are individually, perhaps more importantly is the way in which the actors interact with each other. While Andrew Scott is the lead star, this film is very much an ensemble piece which requires all four actors to bring their A-game.

Writer/director Andrew Haigh has a masterful command over the story he’s telling, as well as a clear vision, but he still requires actors who are committed and ready to give it their all. He gets this and more from his players and it all comes together effortlessly.

On a personal level, various aspects of All of Us Strangers really hit me hard. I’m an openly gay man, who grew up in the 1980s, who had a couple of coming out conversations, and who recently lost a parent.

There is plenty in this film which I connect with on various levels and it certainly hit me in the feels. I’m also more than familiar with all of the ‘80s elements of the film, from the fashion and set decoration through to the music and more, and it certainly took me on a whirlwind journey.

The concept of going back to the past and revisiting lost loved ones is also not lost on me. Only recently, I had a dream in which I returned to a childhood home in a similar way to Adam in the movie, and I now realise I’m not the only one who feels the way I do or has the thoughts and feelings I have experienced following a loss.

Films are often described as entertainment, but the stories being told are really a reflection of human emotions and experiences. All of Us Strangers is this in a nutshell, especially when it comes to grief, and it’s just a brilliant movie.

All of Us Strangers is a mesmerising, heartfelt and heartbreaking film which tells its story in the most beautiful way. It has the power to move, and is recommended for those looking for something deep and meaningful to get lost in.

The performances are all pitch perfect, while the writing and direction are truly captivating. I have only love and praise for the film and I say well done to all involved.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐'

#All of Us Strangers #Andrew Haigh #Andrew Scott #Paul Mescal #Claire Foy #Jamie Bell #LGBTQ+ #Disney+ #Strangers #Taichi Yamada

[starshipsofstarlord]

World Revelations

@etherealsxnder​

Warnings; spoilers for season 13, mentions of death, angst, lack of hope, some Alex Calvert x reader, and tiny bit of jack x reader, swearing, brief illusions to sex, angry brothers, mentions of a sex scene, insecurities, online hate, protective winchester brothers, apocalypse world, major character death, lucifer

(Y/A/N) – Your Acting Name.

A/N; it’s a little bit different from the request, so sorry about that, but I hope that any one that reads this enjoys. Also sorry about the wait, I had bad writers block, but when I started writing this it sorta figured itself out and I may have got carried away. Feel free to tell me what you think ☺️

“Look, I am not going to some other world to help stop Michael. But I can help you in another way, one where none of us get harmed.” Gabriel shrugged, reducing Sam’s expression to confusion. The archangel had felt like their last hope at retrieving their mother, into delving into the apocalypse world, and here he was, turning him down.

 He had tried his very best to make the celestial being better, and here he was, talking again, able to use his grace rather than have it removed and syringed into a demon’s veins. However, he still refused, and the hunter had no other plan in forcing Gabriel into helping. This was the last shot, and it had been blown.

 But however could he still help? This was the primary problem that had to be solved, there was no other route they could take to bring their family back together. And that was all that mattered in this life, saving people, remaining together.

 “What are you talking ab-“ Before Sam could complete his question, Gabriel set him with a poised glare, and snapped his magical fingers, a spark of electric blue grace sparking from the action. That was all Sam saw before he felt himself transported, and once he opened his eyes, he remained in the bunker, however there were cameras around him, and an entire filming crew.

 Gabriel had sent him to the other life, another world in which he presumed that he was called Jared. “What the hell Sammy?” Dean barked from beside him, twisting and turning his sights around, upon realising that although this looked like their home, it was an alternate version of it. A set, made of fake walls and truthless literature that was not at all necessary in this peaceful, monster-less realm. “Son of a bitch!”

 “Cut!” One of the cameramen called out, shaking his head exasperatedly at the line said wrong. Jensen had been doing so well, and Jensen seemed to have slipped far too into character, to the point where he had forgotten his lines. “Do you need to see the script again, or would you rather take a short break?”

 “I’ll go for the break.” Dean confirmed, grabbing Sam’s forearm and hastily dragging him from the onlookers, and towards which he assumed was his, well, Jensen’s trailer. It looked pretty much the same as last time. “Gabriel?” He asked, rightly assuming that the blame of this mishap ordeal was down to the glowing figure.

 “He refused to help us open a rift.” Sam licked his lips, his eyes jutting around the luxurious space. “And then he snapped his fingers, and we were here.” Here, another earth. However this was not their home, it was a disfigured writing of it, if anything, it was worse than the books Chuck wrote. There were more fans, and more complications that came along with being here in place of the actors.

 “We don’t have time for his tricks.” Sighed Dean, raking his hair with his rough hand. “Parading around as a painted whore is not on my agenda, all I care about is getting mum back, we have to get home quick.”

 “Dean, I don’t think that this is a trick…” Sam spoke to his elder brother, in thought of Gabriel’s words. “He said he could help us in another way. I don’t think he meant taking us away from the problem, there must be something else.” No matter how much he rolled the idea around his head, he could come to no conclusion.

 “What?” There was already plenty on the man’s mind, he didn’t need another incident coming their way. Dean was to begin speaking again, until a knock rapped against the door to his double’s trailer, intruding his mindset. Him and Sam shared a glance and frown until Dean called whomever was on the other side in, and to their dismay, he looked exactly like Castiel.

 Misha Collins. Last time they had visited this place, he had died, but the return of the real selves must have somewhat fixed the timeline, he looked well, even if he still was dressed as their angelic friend. “Hey, I was seeing if you are ready for the scene tomorrow.”

 “Scene? Which scene?” ‘Jared’ asked the colleague of his false identity, unaware of the context in which Misha spoke in. Dean only huffed and rolled his eyes, until Misha spoke, and he froze, both the brothers understanding Gabriel’s meaning for sending them to this world.

 “(Y/N)’s death scene. Apparently it’s gonna be quite emotional, and it’ll be strange after, not having the kid on set anymore.” It was a revelation, a nightmare that foreshadowed the truth in their own dimension.

 “Thanks uh- Misha.” ‘Jensen’ rubbed his hand over his face, shocked by the oncoming doom. They had already lost far too many members in their makeshift hunter family, but this was different. This was their sister, whom they had protected and vouched to continue doing since the day she was born. And now the universe had this grand plan of cutting her young life short, and sending her to either heaven or hell, where so many people they loved already were.

 “Do you know where um, (Y/A/N) is right now?” Sam asked, desperate to somehow convince her to remain on the show. It was the only way in which he could save his younger sibling, and he would, by the gods, do anything that he possibly could. Him and Dean had already had meetings with death himself, he couldn’t allow the new version to come and take you.

 Billy would not compromise, she was intent on having a Winchester under her cloak, forever taken from life, never to return to the living. And they couldn’t take a chance, any chance on not getting (Y/N) back, she was a legacy as were they, but she was supposed to live on for longer. Their names would otherwise be nothing more than memories in the world of hunters, until they faded into distant and dead members of the community.

 “In her trailer, I think. She’s rehearsing with Alexander I think.” The name that he mentioned was unfamiliar to the unfitting pair, but they spared no thought to it. Instead they sent him a quick smile before leaving the confines that they felt trapped in, and began their search for the actress of their sister.

 “We have to change her mind Sammy. If she stays on the show, then our (Y/N) lives. It is the simplest solution.” Dean spoke as they walked through the lines of trailers, unable to find the name that they were searching for on any door. “Where the hell is her damn trailer?”

 Sam squinted, until a name he had heard was seen on one of the doors. Alexander, whoever that was. Before he could even put any thought into his actions, he subconsciously knocked on the door, waiting a moment for an answer. And when the door opened, they were met with who looked like Jack, his hair a mess, and his shirt hanging over his shoulder, clearly put on in panic.

 “What’s up guys, need something?” He scratched the back of his neck, impatient with the situation, considering the one that he had been interrupted from. A part of him feared that this was one of Jared’s infamous pranks, he had mostly been on the end of shifted lines, but worse could have been heading his way for all he knew.

 Dean frowned at the sight of young man, it hardly felt right seeing the innocent boy that they knew with sex hair and slight bruises upon his neck. He cleared his throat, keeping up his expression, as he spoke to the boy. He had softened up to Jack, he was their kid in some ways, but this was no Nephilim, if anything it was worse, it was a man who impersonated they kid.

 “Heard that uh, (Y/A/N) was running lines with you. Y’know where she is?” Alex’s eyes shifted slightly inside of his personal space, before everything was given away by a familiar giggle. It sounded the exact same as the one that often left (Y/N)’s mouth. Dean knew it, he would never be capable of mistaking it.

 The noise had renegaded in his ears since she had been born, in the impala as John drove, through the halls of the bunker as her and Sam made jokes about his cholesterol. At the worst of times, before he knew that they existed, he liked to think that it was the voice of angel, she always guided him on the right path, and if she were to disappear from his life, he would sorely lose the track that he was hellbent on walking down.

 And he could see her face now, as she tugged the sheet over her body. A frown sculpted her expression, as she looked exasperatedly between Alex whom had tried to lure the tall pair from the confines of his trailer, and the intruders who had barged carelessly in. It wouldn’t have mattered so much if her and Alexander had actually been running lines, however the situation explained more than enough of the fact that they indeed were not.

 “Jared, Jensen, can you like, I don’t know, not cockblock me, for once in your elderly lives?” It felt peculiar, for both Sam and Dean. They knew that this was not their sister, but her calling them by other names was so foreign. Their skins crawled at the labelling, and it only reminded them farther of their cause, the reason that they were sent by an angelic being to be here in this very moment.

 “I am also getting bored of it.” Alexander tilted his head, in agreement with (Y/A/N), who only grinned at his compliance to suit her opinions, and Dean could only roll his eyes, just like he did with Jack the majority of the time. “But it’s cool, but can we hurry this along, I mean not to be rude, but aren’t you guys supposed to be filming a scene in like five minutes?”

 Sam cleared his throat, admittedly he did like Jack. The kid was sweet, however this was not him, it rather was a man who pretended to be a Nephilim for payment, and was bedding the doppelganger of his sister. If he were to see his sister and the devil’s child in such a compromising predicament, most people would assume he’d be the calm sibling, but they’d be wrong. He would go mad, and think of a way to keep the pair separate.

 But luckily for them, there had never been such adult situations insinuated between their dear (Y/N) and Jack, or at least not that they were aware of. This riled Dean, and so he couldn’t help but feel like exploding. It angered him that any man had laid their bare and lustrous hands upon his youngest sibling. No one was to have that pleasure, she was supposed to remain innocent, even if she were legal.

 “Seriously?! Jack of all people?!” He bellowed at (Y/A/N), shaking his head at their obvious exchange. If (Y/A/N) had any clothes on underneath the white sheet that hugged her body as she lay on the sofa, her instincts would have driven her over to Jensen and her palm would have met the side of his stubbly face.

 “First of all, you need to start remembering Alex’s name, and that goes for Jared too. You can’t just keep calling him Jack, even after I’m done here and move onto my next project.” Her words, although not having the intent to, had the effect of triggering Sam’s goal, in-deliberately reminding him of their foremost goal. It was not to get angry at the characters that played them and their loved ones, it was to save someone that was incredibly important to their world.

 “And second,” the woman in covering continued, “this isn’t exactly going to get me to stay on the goddamn show, if you barge in here, interrupting our privacy. If you don’t like what me and Alex are doing off screen, you sure aren’t going to like what is gonna go down between (Y/N) and Jack. Sometimes I do swear that you’re just like Sam and Dean.”

 The jab she made at them struck nerves, but they knew that this was not the real her. It may have looked like (Y/N), but this was only a woman who played the part of her. “We’ve been trying to make you stay on the show?” Sam asked, his voice soft. He didn’t want to be harsh, she was already uncomfortable enough.

 It was her unknowing that they were actually Sam and Dean that could be an element that they could use, a tool of convincing. “Yes, for weeks now.” (Y/A/N) sighed, pinching the point that was between her eyebrows. “And I’m getting tired of it, and overall, this character. I’ve played her for years on end, I think that her story should have a finishing point, a finale. I’m ready for bigger and brighter things, something that is not pretending to be a strong woman on set, and as soon as I walk away from the cameras, I go back to being weak.”

 “I think you’re going to have to explain a little more if I’m going to get any of that.” Dean prompted, both him and Sam had turned away, giving the actress in the sheets the privacy to change. The shuffling of fabrics could be heard, they had been in worse situations with their sister, small motel rooms, of which they could usually only afford one in the past, helped nobody. And none of them received the personal space that should have been an outright human right.

 “Of course neither of you understand.” Alex sighed, “she wants a smaller workspace, one where there aren’t so many eyes on her. The whole ordeal got out of hand, and now there are people online saying terrible things about her and I. Neither of you have made such a mistake, or had something so sacred and personal leaked on the internet. The things people say really digs in deep, she at least wants a break, can’t you understand that?”

 “Wait, what got leaked?” Sam’s curiosity often informed him of things that he did not wish to be aware of, and this was one of their instances. Alex huffed and rolled his eyes, walking over to where (Y/A/N) was now fully clothed, and took a seat on the sofa beside her, their eyes meeting and mirroring smiles shining at one another.

 The sight admittedly made Sam smile, but it made Dean feel internally sick. The sight of what looked like their sister and Jack fuelled a fire inside of him, he wanted his eyes to burn and the memory to be forever removed from his sights.

 “Look, you play a pretty badass character, although I’d say Dean has a bit more kick to him.” The man himself chuckled, but no one joined in, so he continued through a forced smile, coming to sit down next to Alex, his ignorance to what happened there merely minutes ago encouraging his brother to cringe.

  “But that’s not my only point, you’re here, whilst those sad souls that sit behind their computers all day waste their time typing crap. The life you have, the family that you have here, is worth more than the opinions of a few, invisible idiots, who are only jealous of everything that you have earned for yourself. Don’t breathe their toxicity win, because if you do, the bad guys win, and then you will only fade out of the spotlight and they’ll forget all about you, and all of the things they ever posted about you.”

 Alex had been understanding through all of (Y/N)’s decision to leave the cast, although to begin with he had tried to convince her to stay. And it seemed out of all of them, it was Jensen that made her reconsider her options, he could see it behind her eyes, the unravelling of interest, the flickering of hope.

 The only thing that the younger actor could not tell were that these were not Jensen’s words, they fell from the lips of Dean Winchester himself. A character that he knew of, and was an important symbol on the show that he was cast on. But it did not matter if he was not aware of that snippet, because it changed nothing, other than possibly (Y/A/N)’s mindful decision.

 “You know what, you’re right Ackles. It’s not often that I say that, but the thought of leaving everyone here, settling for something that I have no connection to or history with, it is undermining. And I’m going to talk to Kripke, he’ll be over the moon with the consideration, however if he chooses that (Y/N) is to die as was planned due to my indecisiveness, then that shall be the battle that I am to bargain with.” They had won (Y/A/N) over, it was victory.

 It was also the closest that they could do by themselves to save (Y/N). If this didn’t work, they would be nothing more than John’s broken tools, defined by all those that they were always mourning. And it would only make their sister another name on that sour list, even if her death would pain them substantially more than others.

 “I guess we’ll go then.” Sam awkwardly spoke, encouraging Dean to stand from the christened furniture and join him in leaving the sexually active couple alone. He sent the woman a nod, and Alex a raised eyebrow. He would have Jack’s head if he ever thought he had the guts or wings to be so intimate with their sister, he’d make him feel something, and it would be painful. Torturous even.

 They shut the door behind them as they departed from the actors, a smirk on Dean’s face. He felt victorious, he was the same hero that would read (Y/N) stories when it was dark and a storm was thundering outside, as she hid under the duvet of some dingy motel bed, a torch protecting her from the enveloping bleakness, but also her brothers. “I’d call this a win.”

 “They said about a video…” Sam had Jared’s phone in his hand, he scrolled through the feed with a wrinkled nose and scorned eyes. After he received an answer to what it was concluding, he put the device away, he could never look at Jack and (Y/N) around each other the same again. It was burdened by the facts of this world, contradicting the innocence that both the kids in their world showed. “It was a leaked sex scene of the show, Dean.”

 “Heck no!” Growled the elder brother, shaking his head. The instant images that flashed through his mind of the Nephilim atop of his little sister made his teeth grit in anger, and a pit of queasiness fold in the cave of his stomach. He already wasn’t too sure on Lucifer’s spawn, this only enhanced that formed opinion, and he wished to shoot the child more than ever in this instant, even if the real him was not around.

 “They’re not actually the people we know Dean.” Sam comforted him, easing his anger, but only slightly. “Nothing like that has happened between them, he is in another world, whilst (Y/N) is in the bunker, reading lore and trying to find a way to bring mum and Jack back to us.”

 “Yet Sammy, nothing has happened yet.” He allowed himself to shut his eyes for a second, and the next thing that he knew, he was returned home. His speech must have worked on the employee of the show Supernatural, otherwise, Gabriel surely would not have returned them to their home world.

  “He’s gone, for chuck sake. How are we supposed to bring Jack and Mary back if we don’t have archangel grace?!” The stressed voice of their younger sibling often triggered a debate from the brothers, but seeing and hearing her, it was a miracle. They couldn’t waste time and argue, instead Sam lurched forward, grabbing the girl and bringing her into the embrace of his giant like arms.

“We’ll figure it out (Y/N/N), we always do.” He spoke softly, earning a confused yet pleased smile. The hug had come out of nowhere, but it calmed her nerves, the rushing of the blood that hurtled around the veins of her body slowed, and it gave her a moment of peace, a blank mind before she began researching again.

 “I have a question.” Dean stated with his gruff tone, squinting at his female sibling. He suppressed a smile, she was oblivious to the blockade that had rested above her head like a raincloud, but he knew that she was here for good. And that she was not leaving to any sort of afterlife any time soon. “Do you have the hots for Jack?”

 (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, however she forced a scoff to hide the shock and cover up anything that her brothers could pick up on. She released herself from Sam’s hold, taking a couple of simple steps backwards, so that she could have a clear view of the expressions that both of them wore. “Are you seriously asking me that at a time like this?” Her sentence was finished with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

 But her brothers knew their sister well enough, and that she indeed did not want to admit something to them. (Y/N) was much easier to read than (Y/A/N) was, they had known this growing woman since the day that she was born, the same day in which John rescued the shrieking baby from a mother that was fed and eaten by wolves. She would have been next, however the hunter saved her, as was in his job description, but he couldn’t bare to let her stream through the system.

 He felt an attachment to her, and looking at her was practically the same as the notion of peering at one of his boys. She was to be a Winchester, he hadn’t decided it, but God himself did. The universe worked in mysterious ways, it was as though it was all written out for the family, but this instant, none of them minded. It gave the boys another reason to fight, another person to love, and eventually another family member to lose.

 But it had been evaded this time, Gabriel had although not helped them with reaching their mother and the son of Kelly Kline, however, he had somewhat saved (Y/N) himself. Without his trickster interference, they’d have never known of her doomed fate, or have been able to fix it.

 “I’ll take that as a yes.” Dean was smug with being right, as he always was. Overall though, he was more pleased to know that they had stopped the crumbling of the bottom of the family tree, they had protected their sister, literally to the ends of the world.

 “Pick up a damn book and help me, I’m not doing all of this research by myself.” Another sign that he was indeed correct, changing the subject, how original. But neither of the brothers, more so Dean than Sam, even wanted to try and switch the mindset that (Y/N) had about the boy. They were allowed to have feelings, romantic and so on, and their sister appeared happy with the tether that was from her heart to Jack’s.

   The vampires were almost mutated. This apocalypse world had really taken a toll on all life. Michael of this plain had destroyed everything that was known to be true, even living itself. The habitat of these morsal creatures was dark, and disgusting. Humans had already tried to pass through the deadly lair to reach the other side, to get to the rebellion camp, however, no one had survived to the opposite end of things.

 (Y/N) felt hopeless, even as she walked through the home of the starving monsters. She had never been a fan of vampires, no hunter was, but this was cruel to every extent. They didn’t even appear as human anymore, their fates had been cursed by this ruined land. Without the world that was in her own, they would be worse off, everything in this dimension was.

 Everyone of their company was on edge, Dean ensured that he kept a sturdy eye forward, looking for any light. He knew (Y/N) would have to be okay, it was paved for her to be so in the other universe, she’d be fine. Of course, he still worried, that was what he did in retrospect, all day, every day, he worried that it was to be someone’s last.

 And he was right, as the monsters crept from the dark, tasting the scent of rushing blood in the air. They had lured them from their slumber, and they began to attack, dragging one of the travellers towards their death, where they would be fed on until he was completely drained. (Y/N) swung her machete, beheading one of the animals without a second glance, but perhaps she should have spared another look on the side, as she was a target.

 She was the prey to what she was raised to hunt, it wrapped its clawed hand around her leg like a coil, dragging her to the ground, and feasting its teeth into her supple flesh. This was it, there was no route away from her fate, and her body was already weak from blood loss, and so she gave up, and refused to fight. Her body was dragged into the abyss of the nest, and its members followed after her.

 Sam noticed their apparent glee, they had yet again prized food from them. He looked around to see whom it may be, and he was aghast with the sight. (Y/N) had her eyes shut as her limp form was being taken by vampires, and he froze, traumatised by the sight. And his surprised and hurt stature gave another of the beasts the perfect opportunity to rip into the rubber of his neck, and relish in the unstoppable river of blood that poured out from the fatal wound.

 “No!” Dean cried out, noticing that his sister too had disappeared. Before he could follow after the menaces and get vengeance, and possibly save his family from being the meal of savages, Castiel grasped his arm, pain rendering in the blueness of his vessel’s eyes.

 “They’re gone Dean.” His words rang through the hunter’s head. This was his worst nightmare. Gabriel’s warning had not helped at all, because (Y/N) was dead, and so was Sam. He forced himself to trudge on, pained like no other time before. Sam had died before, but he had always found a way to retrieve him back into life, and even through his tragic absence, he always had (Y/N). Now, the only other Winchester was his mother, who also needed to be saved from this damned world.

   “Think about it Sammy, Jack is going to be so pleased to see you alive, but your little sis, well, I’m sure that is going to be one hell of a reunion between them.” Lucifer smirked, he was in Nick’s body again, using it as a vessel. “And he’ll think of me as a saviour, a knight that saved his princess from a terrible fate.”

 The fallen archangel always had ulterior motives, and Sam realised that he had no choice in whether he’d rather remain dead, or be used as a bargaining chip by the devil himself. His interest in Jack was not exactly pure, it was clear to the man that he sought the backup, the power of his biological son. His intent was to creep into the boy’s mind, and decipher for the kid the difference between wrong and right.

 “That’s what you want, to lie to him about who you are?” He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised, even more so that the audience of vampires were seething to break free from Lucifer’s force. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, he should have been in the bunker, his grace feeding away at Rowena’s spell, and keeping the gate open for their return.

 “I’ll just bend the truth to fit the story, and I care about my son. As you care about your dear sister, and it would be a shame if she were not to wake, and then the news will have to be delivered to my boy, and I’m sure that would just break his half and half heart.” The celestial being, the epidemy of evil tutted at the thought, only to send Sam a mischievous smirk afterwards. “You don’t want him to be like me, but without her, he’ll be in so much pain that he won’t think about his actions. If he has (Y/N/N), then that choice will be entirely up to him, and what he believes in, yada yada yada.”

 The sight of his sister covered in her own blood, motionless on the ground, bite marks on her shoulders and elsewhere drew out a desperation in Sam. He couldn’t not allow the villain to bring her back to life, and it seemed that no matter what he disputed, that Lucifer would do it anyway, to get himself in Jack’s good books. And so he hung his head low, awaiting the personal enemy of his to resurrect the most important woman in his life.

 On first instinct, (Y/N) gasped in air. There was a lack of it rolling around the vitals of her lungs, but her breath was taken away once more, when she saw the looming of a horrifying figure, a first son of god. He was supposed to be, even if forced to do so by the traditions of magic, be at the bunker, revelling them with a way back. Rowena had been left there also, to keep the spell brewing, and a fearful eye on the hellish shadow.

 Assumingly, he had escaped his sentence, and for some reason, brought her to life. It was no mistake as to what the vampires had done to her, she could smell the spilling of her own blood over her thrifted and worn clothes, and it was gruesome. Although it was not the hunter’s first time in being a sponge to her injuries, but nevertheless, she fought to stand beside Sam, who steadied her shaken feet, and balanced out the rest of her body by looping his supportive arm around her waist.

 “Come on.” Lucifer rolled the human eyes that he wore like spectacles into the lives of the Winchesters, unimpressed by the slowness of the world’s large cockroaches. “We have places to be and sons to meet.” At his verbalised of clarity for his ungodly presence, (Y/N)’s body became rigid. His intent was to get to Jack, she couldn’t allow him to provoke a fire inside the boy.

 He was sweet and innocent, even harmless, despite the accident that had happened when he accompanied her and her brothers on a hunt. If Lucifer reached him, he would only try and navigate the darkness inside of him to be what it was, rather than try and make him change it into something brighter, something that was good, like Kelly would have wanted.

 “No.” (Y/N) refused, earning a frown from Sam and a elongated groan from Lucifer. She had died, it didn’t matter if she were to return to that fate, not if she stood by what she truly believed in. Nothing much would change, other than the vampires getting another meal from the same body, Dean already thought that she was extinguished from life, and the news would be passed on before any of them were to reach him.

 “Oh, for crying out loud!” The devil shook his wolfish head, Winchesters were always so stubborn. “I’d allow it if Sam were to stand against the gift of life, I’ve seen what is inside of his head after all, but you! You’re the priority here, you are Jack’s weakness.” This gesture of good faith seemed to be more than it was worth, but if she didn’t comply willingly, then he would force her to follow him along, and live.

 “Where’d you hear that from? He doesn’t have a weakness, he just has a good heart. I’m just another person that he lives with, a soldier that is going to fight anyone that dares to try and hurt him. And I won’t mind if I have to give my life to try and kill you.” She spat at the disgrace of heaven, hardly moved by his goal. As a Winchester, the stubbornness ran through her veins, even if the bloodline itself did not.

 “I hear things, and I did in that bunker. Like how Dean was speaking about you and Jackie boy, and how it all made sense. The shared looks, the flushed faces, all that gross stuff. He didn’t seem too happy with the circumstances, but he was content with the fact that you were alive, like you are again, because of me.”

Lucifer was the last person that (Y/N) would thank for her existence, but she realised that there was no way out of his trap, she was the bait for Jack, that would reel the boy into the wings of his dreaded father.

He could sometimes be so naive, that she feared that Jack would fall for the extension of kindness, one that hardly suited Lucifer. But that was up to him, and in this apocalyptic version of her world, anything could happen.

“She’s dead.” Dean’s voice was gravelly, it had been dragged through hope, and now the realisation that his baby brother and sister were lost to life. The eyes belonging to Jack widened, and tears began to form.

He could quite comprehend how he felt. There was a tearing in his chest, he felt as though he was being split apart, his breathing rapidly increased, and his eyes flared like the bursts of the sun.

Until whispers hit his ears, and he looked up, only to see the girl alive and well. He was not the only one relieved in the circumstances, Dean and Mary were too, but they feared the fact that Lucifer had joined them, and was being trailed by the bloodied siblings; the ones that he had saved for his selfish purposes.

#jack kline oneshot #supernaturalprompt #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #supernatural requests #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #spn x you #spn x y/n #spnxreader #spn x reader #spnimagine #spn one shot #spn fanfiction #jack imagine #jack kline smut #jack #jack x reader #jack kline imagine #jack kline x reader #alex calvert x you #alex calvert imagine #alex x reader #alexander calvert x reader #alex calvert x reader #imagine #imagines #xreader

[blahkugo]

Biggest Fan

DABI x HAWKS x READER

Music! AU inspired by THIS photo set...or, the one in which Dabi, Hawks, & Endeavor are a famous rap group, and the reader gets VIP treatment. 

NSFW begins after the ~~~ for those of you who don’t care for plot! 

Warnings: 18+!, SMUT, cursing, threesome, rough sex (? not sure what your definitions of the word are but they do be slapping you around…), just pure filth basically 

You’ve been squealing into the phone for the past ten minutes. Honestly, you can’t believe the words coming from your best friend’s mouth, even after asking her to repeat them a fourth time. 

“Babe, even if you weren’t my agent, I would have found a way to get you in,” Rumi scoffs into the speaker, unphased by your relentless questioning. Though she’s always been a bit impatient when it comes to your antics, she knows how big of a deal this is to you. “How could I not? You talk my ear off about them.”

“I owe you for the next thirty years!” Your screech turns the heads of a few other customers, and you can feel the irritation radiating off the glare of one particularly peeved woman seated near you. But who cares? You’re too excited for a few middle-aged drags to dampen your mood. 

“Remember what you just said the next time I try to skip out on an interview,” her laugh echoes loudly; she must be at the studio.

“Yes! Whatever you want, Twinkle Toes. It’s yours!” She begins to grumble at the use of the old nickname,

“How many times have I told you not to-” You catch the scowling woman turning towards you.

“Got-to-go-text-me-the-details, love you!” The parting phrase comes out a hurried ramble. Unbothered as you are by a few stares, direct confrontation definitely isn’t worth the trouble. You’re out of the bistro and in your car before anyone can open their mouth. 

The cup of iced coffee you press to your flushed face does nothing to curb the elation threatening to bubble over from inside you. Rumi really has outdone herself this time. Being that she’s both a long-time best friend and client of yours, you know just how hard she’s been working to book a job of this caliber. Images of the two of you icing sore feet after hours of grueling practices spring to mind, making your bad ankle throb. If you could tell your younger selves who they are now— an internationally acclaimed dancer and a talent manager with a novel’s worth of influential clients— they wouldn’t believe it. And the work was paying off in more ways than one. Soon, Rumi will be making her music video debut...and you’ll actually be in the presence of your favorite artists, Suns of Icarus. 

The rap trio’s been all you can talk about forever. No, like really, forever. Even back at arts school, Rumi had to talk you out of choreographing dances to their music practically once a week. You can still hear her promising you that your 70 year-old ballet instructor did not, in fact, want to see you pirouette to a song that's chorus consists of Hawks saying the word “pussy” over and over again. Usually the memory would drown you in embarrassment (especially considering the story is Rumi’s favorite icebreaker), but now even that can’t hamper your mood. You sigh cheerily, pulling into your reserved parking space. Tomorrow, you’ll be surrounded by your idols.

-

“Are you sure I look okay?” You ask for the third time in an hour, tugging at the hem of your silk tank. Though you’re wearing your favorite suit, you can’t help but feel out of place in the large dressing trailer. After all, it’s  not every day that you accompany your clients on their gigs. Your job is getting them the gigs, and usually you prefer it that way.

“(Y/N), quit stressing! If you looked any hotter the guys would have a heart attack,” your best friend bellows loudly. “Doesn’t she look smokin’?” She questions the hairdresser who, apart from a nod and reassuring smile, you can’t quite understand over the sound of the blow dryer. “Who’s the bad bitch that got me this job in the first place? Oh right, that was you,” she pumps a manicured finger towards you to echo the claim, “so woman up!” 

She doesn’t put her finger down until she sees your face soften. It’s not like she’s wrong. “Professional smooth-talker” is basically your job description. In Hollywood people are afraid of you, the woman who can make or break a career. Who are you to let a couple of talents get you riled up? You allow your body to relax in your seat. Even if those talents are the group of boys that you’ve been crushing on since you were 16. Recalling that fact has you scrambling out of the trailer, face beet-red yet again.

“I’m going to grab something from the coffee cart. Be right back!” The door shuts behind you with a loud thud. Rumi should be spending this time going over the routine, not talking you down from the ledge you’re attempting to throw yourself off of over a few stupid guys. Besides, you’ll probably receive a polite greeting at best. The world’s favorite musicians have more important things to do than indulge your fantasies. 

Having iced coffee and a bagel in your hands is all you need to feel the tension in your shoulders dissipate and your smile return; truly a working woman’s comfort meal. The spring in your step is restored as you walk back to the trailer, too entranced by the savory goodness to properly hear the voice that hollers from your right. You do, however, hear the scolding that follows the catcall,

“How many times have I told you not to hit on people that work for us, birdbrain.” Your entire body swings towards the familiar nickname and a piece of bagel nearly falls from your mouth. Not even a few feet away, Dabi holds your favorite vocalist in a one-handed headlock, attempting to ruffle the blonde’s hair while keeping a cigarette balanced between his own fingertips. 

“Not the hair, man! The stylist’s already had to touch it up twice today!” Hawks’ shrieks are muffled beneath the bicep of his counterpart. 

“Go apologize,” The lanky man shoves Hawks towards the spot your feet are now cemented to. Though he’s reprimanding him, you swear you detect a hint of amusement in his tattooed face. “I’m sorry about him, sweetheart,” he calls, lips contorting into a smirk that should be illegal. You feel your thighs press together on their own; the situation isn’t made any better by the pretty boy walking towards you, hands threading through his golden locks in an effort to fix the havoc Dabi wrought. 

“My bad,” he flashes you an award-winning set of teeth you’ve previously only had the pleasure of viewing through your laptop screen; somehow they’re even pearlier in person. The glimmer of a tiny gem catches your eye and you notice one is sealed to his canine, only dazzling you further. “I meant what I said though, you’re gorgeous,” his hand moves from his own hair to twist a piece of yours between his fingertips. The lack of boundaries leaves you feeling stupefied, but he doesn’t let up, going as far as wrapping the lock around his polished index finger. God, even his hands are pretty...What if they were trailing the inside of your thigh and—  Your mind shouts at you to behave, a fruitless undertaking when the object of your adolescent desires is touching you ever-so softly. 

“Um- I- Thank you?” The stuttered phrase comes out confused. Where the hell is the professional smooth-talker side of you when you need her? “I’m Rumi’s agent and uh- I-I’m a big fan!” Heat blazes through your face and chest; you’d slap yourself for the outburst if they weren’t here. 

“Oh, really? She told us all about you!” He waves a hand towards Dabi. “Oi! Matches! She’s not an assistant, she’s Rumi’s manager!” The gloomier man extinguishes his cigarette before making his way towards the two of you, smug expression wavering only when he glances at Hawks. A short wheeze leaves the blonde when his chest is smacked lightly by his partner. 

“I told you not to call me that.” Dabi turns his attention towards you. “(Y/N), right?” He sticks a hand out to shake and you quite literally drop the remains of the bagel to reciprocate the motion, a move that makes you redden and him snicker. “Rumi told us you’re our biggest fan,” his sly grin tells you your loud-mouthed best friend had probably spilled too much information their way. Oh, she’s definitely going to get an earful later. 

He doesn’t drop eye contact the entire time he’s speaking to you, and you find yourself enchanted by the deep sea-blue of his irises. You would literally swim in those pools if given the chance. Only when Hawks clears his throat do you realize you’re still shaking his friend’s inked hand. After dropping it rapidly, you urge yourself into composure out of pure distress. 

“Sorry, I’m honestly a bit starstruck. I’m sure Rumi told you how much I love your music,” you finally sound a bit like your usual self. 

“She didn’t really mention our music, did she Matches?” Hawks chirps, dodging Dabi’s fist this time.

“No, I don’t think she did, dipshit,” he spits the insult through gritted teeth as a final warning. “But I do remember her telling us something about being your first two crushes...or was it your ‘sexual awakening’? I can’t really remember the term she used…” Your knees almost buckle at the obvious teasing, and you silently swear to murder Rumi when she’s done shooting this video. It’s evident that the mockery is highly amusing to them— the glints in their eyes border on ravenous. 

Because you’re not typically someone whose presence is taken lightly, the thought of being toyed with by a few arrogant men has your blood boiling. You’ve already dealt with too many pretentious assholes who don’t believe women, especially younger ones, belong in management; you didn’t claw your way to the top of the industry for all of that hardship to go to waste. Ever the more perceptive of the duo, Dabi seems to realize the shift in your mood. 

“Relax,” he reaches a hand towards you before thinking better of it, choosing instead to tug at the thin, silver piercing adorning his bottom lip. “We’re only teasing. She didn’t say anything like that, obviously.” You stare at him incredulously, arms crossing your chest. “Why don’t we give you a tour?” Though he’s the one who makes the offer, it sounds as though he’d rather be doing anything else. 

“We’re not really assholes, promise,” Hawks jumps in, crossing his fingers over his heart in a show of good faith. “This one just gets too big headed around beautiful women,” he points at the heavily-inked man, who simply rolls his eyes at the accusation. You’d thought the blonde was…well, nothing more than the stereotype his hair color implied, but he’s sharper than he seems. It appears that unlike Dabi, who comes off curt and ungenuine, Hawks’ wit stems from his charm. 

You can’t help but think of how the two of them compliment each other beautifully. That’s probably why their entire fanbase thinks they should be dating. With that ludicrous thought, your exuberance returns. After Hawks assures you they don’t have to be on set any time soon, you find yourself taking them up on their offer. They seem to be a handful, sure, but how long have you dreamt of spending uninterrupted time with your favorite members of the group? Besides, it’s only a tour. What could go wrong?

-

It’s apparent only five minutes into your time together that Hawks (despite his insistence you call him Kiego, it’s difficult after years of referring to him by the stage name) does not know the meaning of personal space. He spends the better part of the tour hooking an arm through yours, touching your hair, or pestering Dabi. While some may take this over-familiarity as a sign of disrespect, it feels more to you as though he’s simply comfortable in his skin. 

Rude or not, his bold actions do nothing but spur your heart to beat out of your chest. Every time he guides you towards an attraction with a cheerful comment, you swear his fingers purposefully dash under your layers of clothing, brushing faintly at the skin of your waist in a way that makes your heart (among other parts) flutter.  

“And as I’m sure you know, we’re filming this music video mid-tour,” his hand flits away as swiftly as it skimmed you, prolonging the torture of wondering whether his movements are purposeful or a figment of your twisted imagination. After showing you most of the fabricated scenery— and even the gorgeous, cherry-red convertible that was rented— for the video, you’ve arrived at the group’s infamous tour bus. You once read that most of their concerts end with the vehicle being mobbed by ruthless fans, one of the sole reasons you’ve never attended a show. Someone as busy as you doesn’t have time for all the horrid traffic the mobs cause. “Wanna see inside? It’s actually pretty roomy.” 

You nod, eyes trailing towards Dabi, who’s busy stomping out the most recent cig he’d been puffing on. Aside from the occasional chuckle at your flustered blunders or annoyed curse thrown towards Hawks, the taller man had kept mostly to himself. His indifference confuses you, makes you wish you hadn’t reacted so bitterly to the loose smile and banter he offered you upon first meeting. At the same time, part of you is irritated by his standoffish personality. From what you’ve seen so far, his remarks serve the single purpose of humiliating others for his own amusement— a stark contrast to the misjudged softy he’s portrayed as on camera. 

You’re guided onto the bus and Dabi follows, cursing under his breath at something or other. Sociable as he is, Hawks begins to chatter again, seeing no issue in being the center of your attention. You realize the space is much roomier than it seems. State of the art technology allows the bunk beds to fold back with a press of the button, leaving room for a decently sized couch. It’s also much cleaner than you would expect three young men living on the road to allow. 

“And the lowest one was my bunk, just in case you’d like to see it again later,” he whispers the sentence as though it’s his best kept secret, wagging his thick brows exaggeratedly to key you in on his joke. “Hey, why are you laughing? I’m totally seriou–” The doors swivel open and your giggles are cut off by heavy footsteps and a booming voice,

“Oi! Keigo! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You have to crane your neck to see the pillar of a man’s scrunched, stoic face. Endeavor, the pyrotechnic-obsessed “hype man” and third part of Suns of Icarus’s trio, stands a few feet from you, clearly exasperated by something his bandmate has done. Hawks must know precisely the reason for the bottle-redhead’s tone, because his face pales. 

“Enji, we made a new friend!” He pulls you into his chest in an obvious attempt to shield himself from the giant, but your face heats at the close contact regardless. 

“You were supposed to be on set for your solo scenes ten minutes ago,” he crosses his sculpted arms, “so let’s go.” The lively man is being whisked away by the larger one before he can utter a word of rebuttal. “Nice to meet you,” he calls casually to you over his shoulder. 

“Dabi, keep (Y/N) company! I’ll be back!” Hawks shrieks with a dramatic flare. The man was truly born to be an entertainer. 

An unbearable awkwardness envelops the two of you once you’re alone. Without his best friend around, Dabi drops any semblance of amiability, but it’s not as if he was trying very hard before. He plops down on the couch and pulls out his phone. You sit as far away from him as possible, but realize you don’t have your own device to keep you busy. After a few nervous minutes of twiddling your thumbs, you attempt to break the silence.

“So, Haw– Keigo and Endeavor use stage names, why don’t you?” You spout the first question that comes to mind, hoping it’ll spark an interesting conversation.

“Dabi is my stage name,” he answers curtly, without looking up from his cell. 

“Oh...but– even your bandmates call you by it?” 

“Yep. Don’t care for my real name,” his eye roll sends ice through your veins.

“Excuse me,” you snap, “have I done something to offend you?” The frustration in your tone wins you eye contact, at least. 

“Nope.”

“Unbelievable….I’m going to need your publicist’s information.” 

“Huh?”

“Well, anyone who can make you seem like the world’s most ‘misunderstood heartthrob’ on camera certainly deserves a pay raise, dontcha’ think?” His eyes drop to send a steely glare your way, but you’re too fed up to feel intimidated. You smirk at him, a single eyebrow raised in twisted satisfaction. There’s the bitchy self you know and love. 

“You don’t know the first fucking thing about me,” he sits up, “but I know everything I need to know about you.” 

“Oh? Enlighten me then, sir.” 

~~~

“You may think Keigo likes you, but he likes everyone. You’re, what, thinking you’re special because he’s throwing some attention your way?” Dabi inches closer. “Hoping he’ll get in your panties?” 

“It’s not like that at all–”

“Don’t lie. The idea of being with someone you’ve idolized for years is thrilling, isn’t it?” The heat that rises on your cheeks is enough to confirm his suspicions. “He doesn’t like to see people for who they really are, but I know your type...just another tramp that’ll use him and move onto the next,” his smug expression returns after that little rant. Paired with the tattoos covering most of his face, he appears every bit as wicked as the skeleton his ink emulates— devilish, even. 

“You’re wrong.” You can’t think of a proper argument when he’s so close to you, basically breathing down your neck. 

“Am I?” His hand trails up your clothed thigh, and an unwelcome shiver crawls up your spine. “So you’re going to stop me when I do this, right?” Then, he kisses you. 

It’s not at all soft, or compassionate, or anything resembling your naive teenage fantasies of the artist in the slightest. Rough, slender fingers wrap around your jaw and yank your lips to his. He doesn’t stop at a peck either, choosing instead to assail your mouth with all of his pent-up rage. The cool, hard metal of his lip ring strains against you, a pleasant contrast to the quick heat traveling the rest of your body. You want nothing more than to prove him wrong— to throw him off you, tell him to go straight to hell— but he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and- God, it just feels so good. Your mouth parts in a breathless moan and Dabi takes the reaction as an invitation to swipe his tongue against your teeth. With your bodies melding together violently, the make out feels simply a continuation of the intense argument you were having moments before. 

Pulling you between his lap, he shifts you so that your back is flush across his chest. Nimble fingers make quick work of your clothes. You just barely raise your hips so that he’s able to take your pants off with ease, but you’re sure he notices the eager movement. When you’re left in nothing but your panties, you feel the rumbling of his solid body behind you as he laughs, the sound bitter and pleased all at once.

“Oh you really are a whore,” he chides. “Who’d you wear these for, hm?” He runs his fingers across the band of your red lace thong. 

“Not you,” you bite back, feigning disinterest towards the dangerous position he has you in. The asshole’s not going to get to actually hear you admit defeat so easily. One of his hands kneads your chest and the other grabs your cheeks harshly, pushing them together so that you’re unable to speak.

“Not me? Take a good look at yourself, sweetheart.”  He lifts your head upwards and your breath hitches; the entire ceiling of the bus is covered in a dark, reflective surface. “Who has you naked in their lap right now?” he whispers onto your neck, licking a long stripe upwards until his teeth graze your ear. You watch fervently as he strokes his digits across one of your perked nipples, tweaking the bud roughly. “Who are you being such a slut for?” He’s aware he won’t get a response because his left hand still grips your face, demanding you watch his every move. 

Dabi then snakes his fingers down your midriff tortuously slowly, brushing lightly in a way he hasn’t touched you yet; as if the skin there is delicate, worthy of his valuable adoration. The ink traveling his arms makes him appear so ethereal, so sinister and compelling, that you can’t help but let out a muffled mewl. Once he reaches your panties, his fingers dart beneath the material and the tender moment is lost. An onslaught of pleasure wracks your body when he begins to draw quick circles on your clit. He lets go of your cheeks, now sore and reddened from both pressure and bliss. 

“I’m going to ask one more fucking time,” his fingers glide against your soaked slit, “who are you being such a dirty slut for?” You contemplate not giving him the answer he’s looking for, and part of you is sinfully curious about what may happen if you enrage him further; however, that idea is put to rest immediately when he snaps his head up to look at you through the mirror, blue eyes pooling with lust and a hint of something animalistic. That stare, paired with the relentless strokes across your clit, provokes your moaned answer,

“F-for you, Dabi.” He uses his free hand to insert two, thick digits inside you.

“Say it again.” 

“I’m- fuck– a s-slut for you,” you practically sob out. You press the back of your head into his shoulder harder, squeezing your eyes closed and biting your lip. 

“Not going to keep your eyes open? Fine.”  The fingers are removed from your clit and you’re about to let out an unsatisfied whine, only for him to grab the back of your head and mash your swollen lips to his once again. Then, after another brief caress of your abdomen, he’s back to touching your sensitive bud. All of your moans are silenced by his mouth, and you feel the vibrations of a low groan from his own throat when your ass grinds against his clothed member. When your stomach pulls taut you know you’re seconds away from feeling that all-encompassing pleasure, the tidings of an orgasm so close to washing over you. 

“Oi, Matches! You didn’t throw her out did you?” Hearing Hawks’ voice call out from the front of the bus has you reeling your lips away from Dabi, and though he slows his movements, he doesn’t remove his fingers from your core. Rather than push you away, he takes the other hand off your clit to hold you tightly against him. “(Y/N)? Dab–”

For a few seconds, the only sound you can hear is your own heart beating out of your chest. Takami takes in the scene in front of him— your bare body splayed across his best friend in the lewdest of positions. You know your face is blooming in embarrassment as you wait for a reaction, for his face to drop in disappointment, anger, anything. Instead, he smirks. 

“Starting without me? That’s no fair,” the golden-haired boy actually pouts, but there’s something deeper swimming in his eyes, something almost bloodthirsty. Though this is happening right in front of you, you can’t truly believe it. Dabi relieves the pressure of his arm from your chest.

“Look Kiego, the whore’s fucking drenched for us,” he lifts his fingers towards the beautiful man in front of you proudly, as if showing off a trophy or a new toy. Then he pops the damp fingers in his own mouth, humming at the taste of you. Hawks’ tongue dips out of his mouth, darting across his bottom lip. 

“I want a taste,” he leers at your bright panties, now soaked through. You think you must have died and gone to heaven, what with the two Adonises staring at you as if you’re their last meal. Hawks kneels at the foot of the couch, brings his face right up to your navel, and licks a long, cold swipe. His digits toy at your waist like they were earlier, except this time the movements are decisive and fierce. Just as he’s about to tug your panties down and place his mouth where you want it most, Dabi seizes his jaw and pulls his partner into a long, sloppy kiss. You let out a sigh at the view and— teases that they are— the sound doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“Is watching us turning you on?” Dabi taunts cruelly. 

“Looks like she’s a bit of a pervert, hm?” Hawks retorts, sliding a finger across your clothed slit. The movement causes your entire body to quiver, your senses on high alert. Without another word, he leans down again, shifts your panties to the side, and takes your clit between his lips. The way he laps at you hungrily makes you believe your initial judgment of him was completely inaccurate, and when he inserts two lengthy digits inside you, the thought is confirmed. Hot, white pleasure consumes your body as your core clenches around his digits. He simply cocks an eyebrow at you and chuckles darkly, holding you tightly against him by your waist so that you’re unable to wriggle away. Gone is the lovable persona you were introduced to, replaced now by someone entirely foreign, deviously lewd. 

“Fuck, Hawks,” you whimper, greedy for more. 

“Thought I told you to call me Keigo,” he scolds beneath you, biting the inside of your thigh so that a sharp gasp leaves you. 

“I-I’m sorry, K-Kei–” You’re cut off mid-moan when Dabi kisses you, wrapping one slender hand around your throat and squeezing. His other one threads through your hair and tugs harshly. A painful hiss leaves you but the sound only makes him pull harder, smirking against your lips.

It’s as though they’re competing for your attention. If one of the men evokes a sob or whimper, the other attempts to outdo him— and they have no regard for your body, becoming instead the battleground for their lascivious rivalry. You lose yourself in the intense sensations, unaware of time or its passing, instead focusing solely on the coil tightening in your abdomen. Every gasp, every moan, only pushes them further, and soon your legs are shaking as you feel yourself nearing the delicious edge. 

Just as you’re about to let go, allow yourself the mind-numbing relief of an orgasm, Kiego withdraws his fingers. Rubbing your bruised thighs together is a desperate attempt at friction, but the momentum is completely lost. Your core clenches around nothing, and you cry out, hopelessly bitter at the emptiness between your legs. 

“Sorry, princess,” his hair is sticking up, golden locks tousled from the harsh grip of your fingers. And yet he still looks perfect. He wipes your juices off his chin with a thumb, “but that’s for starting without me.” Despite the apology, he sounds absolutely delighted at your loss. You whine again, hoping it’ll change his mind. “What do you think, Dabi? Should we let her cum?” 

Hearing his name, the tattooed man takes his attention away from your chest and the onslaught of purple marks his lips’ were just peppering on your throat. 

“I don’t think so,” he tweaks at one of your nipples, eliciting a soft groan from you. “I want the bitch begging for it.” Dabi pushes you away from him and stands to unbuckle his belt. “Besides, don’t think she’s done enough to earn it.” You should be outraged at the way they decide your fate as if you’re not even present, but in reality it only thrills you, your clit throbbing at the lack of control. 

“You’re right,” your idol sneers, canines bared and gleaming as he unzips his own pants, “and I wanna see those pretty lips wrapped around me.”

They switch places, shifting you so that your breasts are pinned against the couch between Kiego’s legs. Dabi grinds his hips against your clothed center, and you mewl at the long-awaited friction, hard member straining against his briefs. 

“Get to work, princess,” Kiego calls to you, boxers down to his knees. You can only balk at the sight in front of you. His cock is thick and long, essentially everything you could’ve ever hoped for, but that’s not it. 

Rather, it’s the shiny, silver ball pierced through the shaft and poking out from the top of his head that stops you dead in your tracks. He notices your eyes widen at it, but only snorts, wrapping your hair around his hand and yanking you roughly towards him. 

“Oh, that little thing?” Now he’s shoving you against his length, using your face as nothing more than a means for friction. “Just a drunken dare from Matches.” The nickname provokes the other man into leaving a stinging slap against your behind. And just like that, the angered man drives himself into your cunt. 

“I told you,” slap, “not to,” slap, “call me that.” With each thrust into you, Dabi releases an onslaught of pent-up anger onto your rear, the biting pain causing you to cry out around Kiego’s member. 

“Yeah sweetheart, just like that,” he leans his head back against the couch with a deep groan. “Such a pretty little whore, choking on my cock.” One of his free fingers shoots out to wipe at your tears, hand moving ever-so-lightly to cradle your jaw. The gesture might have been sweet if his other hand wasn’t forcing you down further to swallow him whole. 

“Mmmph–” you scrape carelessly at Kiego’s thighs in an attempt to secure yourself, moans coming out garbled with his cock down your throat. 

“Not done with you yet, slut” Dabi still pounds into you relentlessly. You’re overwhelmed with the feeling of being stuffed from both ends, knees on the verge of giving out until he fastens his hands around your thighs, pulling you into him with even harder plunges. “Fucking take it.” Something hard and cold grinds inside you, and you’re acutely aware of the ridged piercings now pressing against that perfect, spongy spot in your heat.

When he reaches an arm around to rub furiously at your clit, you’re sobbing. Kiego’s deep, golden eyes watching you, Dabi’s unrelenting fingers and thrusts, it’s all too much. 

And then you’re finally letting go. Legs shaking, mind wracked with white as you clench your eyes shut. Your mouth moves away from Kiego’s shaft, only concerned with riding out your high. The tattooed man behind you doesn’t stop his movements either, still pressed deep inside you until your tongue lolls out of your mouth and you’re tapping furiously at his waist. Kiego smiles, taking himself in his hand and slapping his cock against your cheek while he strokes himself. 

“That’s it, baby,” he smooths your hair back, grunting. “You look so pretty when you cum.” He pumps himself a few more times before he finishes, sticky liquid spurting across your lips and into your hair. You reach around to grab at Dabi’s waist again, willing him to stop. He removes himself from inside of you only to flip you around and your cunt clenches at the feeling of emptiness. 

Pulling you into a long, winded kiss, he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip to taste Kiego’s release. Then he’s pushing you to your knees once more, hands threading through your hair roughly.

“Suck,” he scowls down at you. Though you’re breathless, still reeling from your orgasm, the simple command spewed at you has your lips wrapped around him in a second.

He isn’t as girthy as Kiego, but just as long. A trail of piercings go down his length, and your tongue brushes against the cool metal while you wrap your fingers around the area you can’t reach. You stare up at him through thick lashes, piercing blue eyes ogling you as you take him further in. His hand is still perched on your head, but he makes no movement to push you down— instead, basking in your slow seduction. 

You’re sure you look a mess, dried mascara down your cheeks and still covered in Kiego’s cum, but Dabi only revels in the power he has over you, positively thrilled at the way you no longer fight for dominance. He breaks eye contact only when the blonder man tugs him into a kiss, deep and passionate, and the sight only urges you to swallow him deeper. 

“I like her with her mouth so full,” Kiego whispers against Dabi’s lips. 

“Just as long as the bitch isn’t speaking,” the other man groans, rutting into your mouth so that you know he’s close. 

Soon he’s pulling out of you to pump his shaft, your mouth wide open so that the head of his cock brushes against your tongue. Kiego reaches down to move Dabi’s hand, grabbing at his partner’s length so he can stroke it himself. It doesn’t take long after that for the brooding man to cum, head thrown back in a loud grunt while the tantalizing male next to him coaxes him through the orgasm. Kiego angles him so that his hot, white liquid gushes onto both your face and tongue; you suck at Dabi’s head until he forcibly pushes you off him. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, running a hand through his sweaty locks. “Knew you were good for something.” With that final statement, he turns away from you, pulling his pants back on and returning to his spot on the couch as though he wants nothing more to do with you. 

Kiego walks away as well, and you’re sure you’re about to be kicked out now that they’ve had their way with you. A part of you is angered, but a larger part is still processing what just happened, savoring the earth-shattering orgasm the pair blessed you with. 

You look for your discarded clothing, trying to compose yourself so you’re able to get out of their way as quickly as possible. Kiego walks back into the common area, wet rag in hand. He doesn’t speak until he pushes you into the couch, rubbing the clean towel over your face softly.

“So, you’re coming to our concert next week, right?” 

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

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#I will convert you all into dabi fuckers one fic at a time #dabi x reader #dabihawks #hawks x reader #dabi x hawks #dabi x hawks x reader #hawks x dabi #mha smut #mha fic #smut #mha #bnha #sunny writes #bnha fic #oneshot #music! au #Dabi music! au #da bee #bird boy #reader x mha #mha x reader

[ateezaligned]

How OnlyOneOf portrayed queer relationships and dynamics in libidO, w a hint of good ol’ yearning

(disclaimer: this strictly about the mv and in no way I’m implying these dynamics are translated to real life and their friendships if u suggest that ill kick you, don’t ship real ppl romantically pls)

The storyline of Instinct pt. 1 tell us this album is focused on self-discovery and how young people repress their “urges”, but the way all three subplots play with this concept is super fascinating!

The KB/Yoojung situation (which is my favorite subplot!!): From my point of view, Yoojung and KB show a relationship that is just blossoming. The song starts with tying up Yoojung’s hands, he is being contained, and his lyrics are literally “I’m attracted for no reason”, now I looked up other translations besides the original and it also has to do with being ‘pulled’, like Yoojung is being pulled into this relationship for ‘no reason’, he thinks he needs one to fall in love with another man. Rationalizing your feelings is a way to separate yourself from them. Therefore, Yoojung plays the more hesitant part, he overthinks, his super ego policing strongly what he feels.

On the other hand, KB is seen initiating most of the physical contact between them, and he does it in a way that makes it easy for Yoojung to pull back if he doesn’t want it. KB is also always at least an arm away, inside a comfortable space for Yoojung to reach for him if he wants to. In their first scene of close contact, Yoojung is the one laying his head on KB’s shoulder, and he keeps control of their closeness throughout the whole video, despite KB breaking it with the soft touches we see, such as fixing Yoojung’s hair or putting his hand on his shoulder in the beach scene. And all this gentle-ness contrasts so well, bc we also see KB’s character initiating contact with others! He pulls Junji for a hug when both of them are shirtless and he does it so nonchalantly! It’s obvious he is okay with /more/, but he respects Yoojung’s boundaries and never pushes.

The scooter scene is great, bc we can see Yoojung hugging and pressing their thighs and putting his hands in the air, he feels more carefree, he was able to get past his own inhibitions and it’s so great to see.

So Yoojung and KB's is like a first relationship: you are stepping on eggshells, you don’t know what you’re doing or looking for. A lot of queer people start dating into adulthood, and even with previous ‘straight’ dating experience, everything is so incredibly new! And it’s great but also anxiety inducing and frustrating.

Then, there’s Rie and Junji. A thing I found incredibly interesting is that in every scene of them (except two) they’re already in contact. In the car they’re holding hands, and when they’re hugging and eating lollipops, and back to back in the basketball court, we don’t know who started it, but it doesn’t matter because Junji and Rie are equals and stand on the same ground of mutual love, respect and experience, they’re having fun and smiling at one another, even when they’re playing basketball face to face, their eyes are on each other and its playful and great. Rie has one of the best lyrics in the song that is “I trust youand I accept it”. Junji and Rie don’t need to fight their instincts, really, because they know everything is reciprocated and their libido (not as in sexual drive but as in life energy) is matched in the other, they have trust over everything else, and this can also be shown in the only scene where Rie lays his head on Junji’s back, he’s supporting himself on his partner and Junji accepts it because relationships aren’t only fun but also healing and giving someone a place to rest. And Junji does his part and bandages Rie’s wounds, which @henlex pointed out as a Achilles and Patroclus reference, being these basically the top tier of gay love and companionship, when Patroclus died (represented by Rie), Achilles dies avenging him, asking for their ashes to be mixed so they could be forever one. So yeah, let’s yearn for something like this gays.

Finally, the trio. They’re the first ones to have their solo scenes, and you can see Love in the bathtub, he is naked and exposed, playing with some rosemary leaves (yeah I went to someone and asked them if they recognised the plant leave me alone). Rosemary used to be given to Aphrodite bc it was used as an aphrodisiac. It also represents fidelity. Yeah. So Love is playing with fidelity, basically. Many thoughts were thought.

Then, Nine and Mill are a continuous contrast throughout the mv. While Nine is inside and laying on the floor, cozy and reading, Mill stands outside in the garden looking at the window. I’ve said it before but I think it’s really important the way Mill’s character portrays one of the harsher parts of queerness that is that “other-ness”. You’re just an observant, and you want in and to be yourself with your friends and participate in those rituals, but something inside you doesn’t allow you to. In here, though, is not just ‘I want to identify with my straight friends’ but ‘I want to be free like these other gays, why can’t I do it?’.

Nine and Love’s relationship doesn’t really show a lot of romantic moments, in fact, I can’t really think about something between them that was, intimate and sensual? yes, but not romantic. Which is completely okay. Sex is not something bad, and gay sex is constantly demonized. Casual sex is okay and sex with friends and whatever, as long as everyone involved is a consenting adult, sex is okay. So to me, Love and Nine are friends, the arm around the neck seemed casual and natural, they’re comfortable with each other, and they’re also comfortable with mill, as shown in the creek scene. They didn’t mind the audience (yeah this sounds kinky ik), both nine and love are pushing the boundaries, unlike kb. But pushing isn’t always wrong, per se.

Nine starts with the lyrics “leave it, libido, we’re like roots (…) mixing together with no rules”, while Love sings “don’t suppress it just accept it”. Both nine and love are clear with their intentions and instincts, their subconscious is not their enemy in any way, since both of them accept the relationship they have.

Meanwhile, Mill battles with his libido, but it’s not like Yoojung who has a partner that actually loves him, if Mill takes the chance and jumps, he doesn’t know where he is going to land. In the whole video, not even once Mill touches someone else, even if he desperately wants to (Yongsoo did a great acting work I’m still so amazed!!). The yearning and pining over Love, who pulls him in and gazes at him, is such a good concept, because even if Love is giving him all the signals that there is (he is with another boy openly, allows close contact and shows himself in front of mill), Mill will still doubt himself and what he is doing. Hesitation and all, he takes a leap of faith in that one scene where he approaches Nine and Love, and keeps eye contact.

Now here is where the controversial crotch grabbing scene comes, and both Love and Nine sing. They say they’re walking over shallow water, so it’s not risky, they’re not gonna drown, and there’s no one around and they just “keep walking”. They do their thing with no care of what others may think. But also, Nine asks “what you need?” And “why can’t you see the light over there?” now, maybe after the whole no compromises he did catch feelings for Love, but Love, playing with fidelity as previously stated, answers “I’m gonna go where I feel like going”.

And then we have Mill’s rap. He talks about how this ‘experience’ can’t be compared to anything else but it’s an experiment. Now I know a thing or two about downplaying queer experiences, it isn’t unusual for gay ppl to look at things our younger selves did and think ‘how did I even passed as straight?’. Mill, even after saying it was just this experiment, says “you’re already putting a period, that doesn’t end things”. So, my guess, since after that we don’t see them directly interacting unlike the other couples, is that it all fell apart. Love, having the upper hand in the whole dynamic, didn’t have actual romantic feelings for any of the other boys, and he left them hanging.

While a bit heartbreaking, I think it’s important to point out that queer relationships are just like straight ones, and sometimes they end up in ruins, and it’s okay and its part of growing and discovering oneself!

So yeah, that’s my interpretation. This is like 1500 words. A whole essay. Hyperfixation is a bitch. I need a girlfriend.

#onlyoneof #long post #isi rants #as always excuse my bad english #oh to have a gf so i didnt have to torture my followers w my babbling #if someone wants to give me their opinion and talk to me i will love them forever!!