#I’m calling it part 3? because I accidentally titled myself into a corner | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

multi-fandom-freak0221 · 3 years

Text

You Killed Me, but I Survived and Now I'm Coming Alive

Hey guys. It's been a minute. My job have been kicking my ass. I quit one of them a few months back cause 16-18 hour days were kicking my ass. But my dad died of Covid 1/20/21, on my older sisters birthday and month before my 20th birthday. I am half a country away from him and I won't be going to see the rest of them, but I do have 3 paid days bereavement and while I'm trying to distract myself I decided to try and finish this part. Your feedback motivates me so much. This part was the part I've been waiting for. The whole reason I created this fic. Like for real I had like maybe one sentence summaries planned for the other two parts in my head but this part played out like a full movie in my head down to the last details. This one will probably be the longest. It also has like 3 songs in it because it's the concert/gala scene hopefully I'll be able to cut it down some because i won't need descriptions between every lyrics but who knows. C'est la Vie. Anyways this will be the official last part, but I do already have one for sure bonus planned and a possible bonus that I might do if enough people want it.

This part's title is from "Miss Moving On" by Fifth Harmony. And this part includes the songs "Sorry (I'm not Sorry)" by Demi Lovato, "Home" by Philip Phillips, and "Symphony" by Clean Bandit ft . (Which for me is like a fucking poly anthem. I'm mean a symphony is a perfect metaphor for a healthy poly relationship! I mean it is a lovely way of asking to join into a poly group! Anywho I'm ranting and projecting. Ignore me.)

This is Part 3 of my fic based on @maiisdaddy 's Love of Three.

Tagging list:

@thestressmademedoit @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @lizziejay @indecisive-mess-named-me @captainmac6 @luveverything12 @kris-pines04 @brokenwordsarehard2 @roselynfey @mewwitch @stainedglassm

Part 1 Part 2

Marinette was ecstatic. She was extremely proud of all that she had accomplished in the 6 or 7 seven months since she left Damian. She became a singing sensation and recorded a whole album that would be releasing soon. She spent time healing and hanging out with her friends and pseudo family. Hell she even created outfits for herself and all her friends for the album release/identity reveal gala her Uncle Tony decided to throw for. Not that other guest knew that what this gala was for. Uncle Tony had picked the next closest international holiday and claimed it was a charity gala in honor of said holiday. While he may mot have been being entirely truthful there is never a bad reason to give to charity so she wasn't going to dwell on it.

She could truly say she totally over Damian. She even had Adrien take the ring back to her old apartment for her. She was not worried about him anymore. She had more important matters to attend to. Like the 3 boys who stole her heart while helping her piece it back together. Which she would say was great timing because she was sure Bruce Wayne would be at this gala. She guesses it was some kind of billionaire/millionaire code to never miss a charity event hosted by a fellow billionaires/millionaires.

Either way it was for the best because as soon as Uncle Tony had suggested a gala to reveal at, she had Uncle Jagged help her with two songs that she kept secret from everyone. One to show her appreciate for all her family and friend's support for her and one to confess to the 3 boys who loved her when she felt unlovable. She was going to preform these song for her friends in front of a lot of influential people but she wasn't even nervous. Not even when Alix told her that the gala was to be live streamed. No she was just excited and happy to let her friends know how she was feeling.

The gala was in full swing. All the guests who were coming were already there by the time Marinette and everyone else she came with arrived. She was talking with Chloe, Kagami, and Alix when she decided to grab herself a drink. She was walking to the refreshments table when accidentally bumped in someone's back slightly. "Oh! I'm sorry, sir."

The man then turned around to reveal to be Bruce Wayne himself. "Marinette! I'm surprised to see you. Damian said you were feeling too sick to attend."

Marinette wanted to scowl, but she managed keep her face neutral. She knew there were reporters swarming here and she did not want to make a spectacle. "I'm sure he did. Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Wayne I was on my way to get a drink." She didn't even get a chance to leave Bruce in confusion from her statement. No sooner than she took a step to leave did Dick walk up to her.

Dick smiled at her as he greeted her kindly. "Sunshine! It's been a while. I thought Damian said you were under the weather?" As he moved in to hug her she sidestepped out of his reach.

Once upon a time she loved Dick's hugs, but now it would just feel fake. "I'm sure your brother has said many thing about my lack of attendance to many social gatherings. Unfortunately those claims were false as Damian has not been privy to my whereabouts in months. Now if you please excuse me."

She went to walk away again, but she guesses Dick's interference was enough time for Bruce get over his shock because he blocked her path again. "What are you talking about Marinette?" Marinette resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Mr. Wayne it has been nice talking with you but this really is a conversation for another time." Marinette sighs. She was trying to be civil. She was sure there were reporters everywhere waiting for the big scoop. She wanted that to be her reveal not her past relationship with an asshole. "Besides this is probably something you'd need to talk to Damian about."

"Talk to me, about what?" There is no God, she was convinced. The sigh that left her mouth was long and full of suffering as she turned around with a clearly fake smile. Facing her now was Damian himself with Tim and Jason behind him. Damian was clearly extremely shocked to she her, but he played it off quickly. "Angel I thought you weren't feeling well. Why didn't you tell me you changed your mind? You could have came with us."

Marinette ducked out of Damian's reach, barely restraining from stomping on his foot with her heels, as he tried to kiss her. "Do not call me Angel. And don't you dare even try to kiss me, Wayne."

Before Marinette could lose her temper anymore Luka came and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Everything okay, Melody?" Marinette took some calming breaths as she attempted to regain her composure.

While she was trying to calm down, it seemed the Wayne family was getting worked up. "And who is this, Marinette?" Bruce asked accusingly.

Marinette looked at the family in front of her in disbelief. "You all met Luka. He's my best friend. Signed under Jagged. In a committed relationship with two of my other best friends, Kagami and Adrien." She shook her head as the all held sheepish expression for assuming the worst. "Not that who I'm with is any of your business anyways."

Before any of them could question to her statement, Felix comes to her other side and whispers into her ear. "Do you want me to call security?" She didn't even get a chance to respond before she heard Dick gasp, scandalized.

"Marinette!! Are you cheating on Damian?" Dick exclaimed. At this point Marinette knew they were drawing a crowd she was trying to keep everyone's dignity intact, even though her reputation wasn't the one at stake.

"Mr. Wayne I once again implore you that we have this conversation in a more private setting." Marinette spoke calmly, but through gritted teeth. She was on her nerve.

Bruce crossed his arm and spoke loudly drawing more attention to them. "No. I demand you explain to me at once why you are here with another man when you are supposed to be marrying my son. Was this all some kind of ruse to go after the Wayne Fortune?" Her jaw dropped. She knew it did but she couldn't stop herself from the shock. The sheer audacity of this family before her. She quickly shut her mouth as her eyes narrowed into a deadly glare. Her Ladybug glare. The Wayne family would never admit it but an involuntary shiver went down their spines at the sight of it.

She knew her friends had gathered behind her at this point and see could see the reporters pushing past each other to get the scoop. Vicki Vale was the closest one. In the corner of her eye she saw the camera that was set up for the livestream as well.

Marinette face finally settled on a look mixed with anger and mischief. "Oh? So want to cause a scene, Mr. Wayne? Well how about I put on a show?" She continued to stare Bruce in the eye as she spoke to one of her, "Chloe, can you tell Jagged that I'll be opening with Sorry. The rest of the show will go as planned." Chloe smiled wickedly before going to do asked.

The Wayne family began to smirk when they heard her say sorry, but whatever they began to feel was quickly shut down as she spoke to them again. "Let's get this straight, Mr. Wayne. I am not cheating on Damian and I never once desired to a part of your family's fortune. It was foolish of me to even once want to be a part of your family but I quickly learned better. I would not want to even look at the money that is connected to your family's name if the requirement was to be even cordial with Damian, let alone married to him."

She then towards the crowd the surrounding them. "If everyone would please take their seats facing the stage the show is about to to begin." Without a second thought Marinette headed towards the stage while the rest of her friends took their seats. Some one who was in the staff working tonight led the Wayne family to seats right in front of the stage. Soon everyone was seated and Marinette was standing center stage with a microphone.

Marinette smiled brightly at the crowd. "Thank you all for coming. I'm sure you all know me as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, pseudo niece of Tony Stark and Jagged Stone, and for some of you ex-fiance of Damian, but for others you still current fiance of Damian Wayne. Well I hate to inform that some of you are wrong. Anyways I'm sure your wondering why I'm up here. Well Uncle Tony promised a surprise musical guest so I'd like to reintroduce myself to all of as Neon Titanium! I'm going to be preforming a few songs for you tonight from my new album about to release but before that I decided I should clear the air. Let me start by saying it has been about 7 months since I broke off my engagement to Damian Wanye. While most of you know I chose to kept the reason of said break up private, someone here tonight decided that they were entitled to the reason to being told to them, very publicly. And who am I to deny such a request?" There was a false sincerity to her final sentence that seemed almost menacing.

In the front you can see the paling faces of many of the Wayne men as Tim is on his phone. He finally pulls up Marinette interview that was released prior to Damian announcement. "Damian, what the hell did you do?" Tim voice was barely above a whisper but they all heard it.

Marinette continued on quite content to the situation before her. "Well here's the truth. Damian did the unforgivable. He repeatedly cheated on me while emotionally abusing me and gaslighting me.

"He kept me from seeing everyone I cared about and his own family, claiming it was for my own safety and called me selfish for wanting to leave the apartment he kept me locked in. And while at first he seemed to actually be concerned my wellbeing, over time he stopped caring.

"He became distant, turning back into the Ice Prince you all knew him to be. He would lie about why I wouldn't leave the apartment constantly while still leaving me alone in the apartment constantly. Then he started getting late night calls from "work" to the point I would barely see him. I overheard one of these calls once. I heard him telling who ever was on the other side of the phone that I had no clue and to be waiting for him naked. But I stayed hopeful. I thought I could fix things. But he got worse.

"He was slept with the one person who made it their life goal to take everything from me. Even before I moved to Gotham, this girl hated me and she took all of the people who I thought were my friends and turned them against me. My true friends stayed and knew the truth but it still hurt. And Damien knew this. I told him all about this girl abd how she hurt me. Yet he still slept with her.

"The girl knew I was Damien's fiance. Somehow she got my number and sent me a picture of her in bed with Damian, both of them naked. I'm not going to lie I broke down when I saw that. Before her I could play ignorant and act like I didn't know what he was doing. But this? This was impossible for me to ignore. He cared so little about me that he slept with the one person who do whatever it takes to hurt me. I left that same night with only the things that were mine. Everything I bought came with and everything he bought me stayed. Including the cell phone he bought me when I moved in with him. The only thing that wasn't mine that came with was the engagement ring because I couldn't bring myself to truly accept the truth that it was over yet. I later on had it returned because I remember Mr. Wayne saying it belonged to his mother, though I'm guessing Damian didn't notice."

Marinette saw Bruce whip his head towards Damian who shrunk in on himself.

"Oops. Guess it wasn't noticed indeed. Anyways. For the last 7 months I have been living in Stark Towers with my Uncle Tony, healing with some of my closest friends helping me. And after some convincing working on an album with Luka and my Uncle Jagged. I will preforming a few of those songs for the gala tonight and they will also be live streamed for those who paid for virtual tickets. My album will be released in the next following week." Marinette took a deep breath as she prepared for her first song.

"Originally I planned to open with a different song tonight but after this impromptu info dump, I thought only fair to follow it with the song I wrote dedicated to Damian. I like to call this one Sorry" As Marinette finished the music started playing over the speakers. Soon she was singing passionately.

Now I'm out here looking like revenge

Feelin' like a ten, the best I ever been

And yeah, I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this,

But it gets worse (wait a minute)

She pointed to Damian while rolling her eyes.

Now you're out here looking like regret

Ain't too proud to beg, second chance you'll never get

And yeah, I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this

But it gets worse (wait a minute)

She took the mic off it's stand as she walked along the front of the stage.

Now payback is a bad bitch

And baby, I'm the baddest

You fuckin' with a savage

Can't have this, can't have this (ah)

And it'd be nice of me to take it easy on ya, but nah

Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)

Being so bad got me feelin' so good

Showing you up like I knew that I would

Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)

Feeling inspired 'cause the tables have turned

Yeah, I'm on fire and I know that it burns

Baby, fineness is the way to kill

Marinette gestured to herself from head to toe.

Tell me how it feel, bet it's such a bitter pill

And yeah, I know you thought you had bigger, better things

Bet right now this stings (wait a minute)

'Cause the grass is greener under me

Bright as Technicolor, I can tell that you can see

And yeah, I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this

But it gets worse (wait a minute)

By this point Chloe, Kagami, and Adrien had got up and started dancing along to the song.

Now payback is a bad bitch

And baby, I'm the baddest

You fuckin' with a savage

Can't have this, can't have this (ah)

And it'd be nice of me to take it easy on ya, but nah

Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)

Being so bad got me feelin' so good

Showing you up like I knew that I would

Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)

Feeling inspired 'cause the tables have turned

Yeah, I'm on fire and I know that it burns

Marinette waved to her 3 friends to join on stage for the next part.

Talk that talk, baby

Better walk, better walk that walk, baby

If you talk, if you talk that talk, baby

Everyone was clapping to the beat while Marinette pranced across the stage, except for the Wayne family.

Better walk, better walk that walk, baby

Oh yeah Talk that talk, baby

Better walk, better walk that walk, baby

If you talk, if you talk that talk, baby

Better walk, better walk that walk, baby (oh yeah)

Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)

Being so bad got me feelin' so good

Showing you up like I knew that I would

Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)

Feeling inspired 'cause the tables have turned

Yeah, I'm on fire and I know that it burns

As the song came to a close, there was a roar of applause as her friends went back to her table.

Marinette did a little half bow. "Thank you. Thank you."

She wait till it was quiet again as she returned the mic to the stand. "Now as you can all see I'm doing much better now and I'm happy without him, but if it wasn't for the support system I have I never would have made it to where I am. My parents are in France so in my time of need I turned to my family who was close. My uncles Jagged and Tony, and my aunts Penny and Pepper. They're wonderful and they have always been there for me when I need them. And also my friends, both old and new have stood by me through all of this and helped me come out stronger. So this next song was a surprise gift for them."

Jagged had grabbed an acoustic guitar and was playing her in sitting in the background of her as a projection shined on the wall behind her, showing pictures of her with her friends and her uncles and aunts.

Hold on, to me as we go

As we roll down this unfamiliar road

And although this wave is stringing us along

Just know you're not alone

'Cause I'm going to make this place your home

Settle down, it'll all be clear

Don't pay no mind to the demons

They fill you with fear

The trouble it might drag you down

If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you're not alone

'Cause I'm going to make this place your home

She took the mic off the stand again as she walk off the stage to her friends and family in the crowd giving the hugs as vocalized along with music.

On the screen was several pictures she found. She put together the slideshow herself. There was a picture of herself crying in the midst of group hug while the people around her comforted. Another was her and all her friends playing in the pool. There was one where they had an impromptu free-for-all dodgeball game and she had won. She was laughing as the guys lifted her into and the girls were all cheering around her.

She made her way back to the stage after the final hug.

Settle down, it'll all be clear

Don't pay no mind to the demons

They fill you with fear

The trouble it might drag you down

If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you're not alone

'Cause I'm going to make this place your home

She smiled as projector turned off and the crowd applauded again. "Thank you all. But truly thank you to my friends and family for helping and supporting me."

She waited till it was quiet once more before speaking again. "All those who love me have done so much for me, but right now I wanna talk about 3 very special people."

She smiled softly as she looked over to where Peter, Felix, and Jon were sitting. "These 3 boys did so much for me even though they were the ones who knew me the shortest. They've been kind and patient and understanding with me. They all started to love me when I felt my most unlovable. And soon they found a love in each other as well. The best part is even after loving each other they offered to include me in their love as well, whenever I was ready. They gave me their friendship unconditionally no matter what my answer came to be and never rushed me for an answer ever. So Jon, Felix, and Peter this song is for you."

She saw the Wayne family's eyes widen, but she paid them no mind as she started singing.

I've been hearing symphonies

Before all I heard was silence

A rhapsody for you and me

And every melody is timeless

Life was stringing me along

Then you came and you cut me loose

Was solo singing on my own

Now I can't find the key without you

And now your song is on repeat

And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat

And when you're gone, I feel incomplete

So if you want the truth

I just wanna be part of your symphony

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

Symphony

Like a love song on the radio

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

I'm sorry if it's all too much

Every day you're here, I'm healing

And I was runnin' out of luck

I never thought I'd find this feeling

At this point Marinette had walked down the stage grabbed Jon's hand and led him back to the stage dancing.

'Cause I've been hearing symphonies

Before all I heard was silence

A rhapsody for you and me

(A rhapsody for you and me)

And every melody is timeless

She repeated the process with Felix as Jon danced nervously danced on stage.

And now your song is on repeat

And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat

And when you're gone, I feel incomplete

So if you want the truth

She left Felix and Jon dancing together as she brought Peter back to the stage with her. She continued to dance with him as she sang.

I just wanna be part of your symphony

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

Symphony

Like a love song on the radio

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah

Ah ah, ah

She smiled as Peter dipped her before bring her back up and handing her off to Felix.

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah

Ah ah, ah

Felix twirled her, letting her dress flare, as she spun right in to join awaiting arms where he lifted her into the air.

And now your song is on repeat

And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat

He slowly set her down and she turned until her back is against his chest. His hand are on hips as they sway gently.

And when you're gone, I feel incomplete

So if you want the truth

Peter and Felix were mimicking her position with Jon in front of her and she put an arm around Peter's neck while the other still held the microphone.

(Oh, oh, oh)

I just wanna be part of your symphony

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

Symphony

Like a love song on the radio

Symphony

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

Symphony

Like a love song on the radio

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

This time as she finished singing the crowd was silent as she looked at the 3 boys who held her heart. "Jon. Felix. Peter. You guys are some of the best people to ever walk into my life. I want nothing more than to be with you 3. So if you are still willing, will you do me the honor of calling me your girlfriend?"

She looked hopeful as the silence filled her ears. It felt like hours, even though it was definitely seconds, before she heard them all say yes.

Cheers erupted as Peter kissed her and Jon and Felix kissed each other over the former two's heads. She then turned kissed Jon as Peter kissed Felix, before kissing Felix as Jon kissed Peter. She grinning wildly when the all finally pulled away from each other.

She raised the mic to her lips as she closed out. "Thank you all for being here for my reveal/debut! I got one more song that I'll be preforming at the end of the gala, so y'all have fun and mingle. Once again, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng aka Neon Titanium, I'm glad you enjoyed the show!"

She winked at Bruce on her last word as she walked off the stage with the loves of her life to where her family and friends were waiting for her.

Her and her boys (and Kwami does she love that -Her boys) were in the midst of getting congratulations when she heard someone clear their throat behind her. Bruce Wayne stood as tall as ever though he refused to meet any of her group's eyes.

"Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I apologize for my early behavior tonight, I was missing the whole story." He voice was steady but some shame shone through. His boys were behind him all of them also looking sheepish except Damian who was glaring at her new loves Jon in particular.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You know as well as I do that the media are sharks, and events like these are a feeding frenzy for them. I tried my hardest to keep all of our reputations intact tonight, a lot harder than I should have since I had nothing to hide since I was the victim here. Yet, you in no regards of the truth, attempted to smear me with no hesitation. Personally the rest of you did nothing to me so I had no ill will towards you, but you forced my hand. The results of today are direct consequences of your own actions."

Before anyone else could speak up Damian did. "Kent," He nearly growled. "Why didn't you inform me as soon as you knew she was gone. As my best friend you should have informed me immediately!"

Jon answered lowly in a dark tone no had ever heard him use before. "My father tried to warn you father, Wayne, but when questioned you just dug your own grave deeper. Besides as my father explained to me it is not our job to make sure you two are aware of the going ons of your own household. Also you lost the right to be my best friend when you decided to be so cruel to the person you were supposed to love and then lie when confronted about it."

Marinette scoffed. "I figured when you finally noticed I was gone you'd assume I was off throwing a temper tantrum in hiding somewhere and that I'd come back. The fact that you weren't even worried about me in all that time I was missing is really telling."

Bruce glared Damian down from respond as his brothers held him back. "I just have one more question before we rightfully leave you alone. You said you had the ring return? Where could it possibly be?"

Marinette shrugged. "I had Adrien return it a couple months ago. Damian was fucking some girl in his apartment when Adrien walked in and he didn't even notice him set it on the dresser. I believe heard on the grapevine someone named Lila is claim she's Damian's true love and he had to keep up our engagement for appearances. She also claimed he proposed to her with a Wayne family heirloom until he get away from me. I guess maybe next time Damian should pay better attention to his house guests." She giggled sarcastically afterwards.

Bruce frowned as he nodded. "I see. I'll leave you all alone now. Have a wonderful evening, and congratulations." As he led his family away Marinette could hear whispered yelling but could make out a few phrases like "PR Nightmare", "priceless heirloom", "huge mistake", and even "major fuck up".

As soon as they were out of hearing range Marinette started laughing, causing everyone around her to laugh too. She finally calmed down eventually but her large smile never went away. This is the happiest and the most free she's felt in the long time.

#maribat salt #marijon #maribat #marivenger #felinette #spideybug #OT4 #me????projecting onto characters????? It's more likely than you think #honestly at this point #yall should clearly see i got issuses #also the wayne family gets burned!!!!!#mari might forgive most of them #but Bruce and Damian are dead to her #bamf marinette #she takes no shit #am i projecting my poly ass?#you mcfucking bet #she got no time for assholes #neon titanium

216 notes · View notes

maybankiara · 3 years

Text

PHONE SWAP (DREW STARKEY)

18: MR. WHITE CLAW

summary: Addie Mallory is just your average economics student when she meets Drew Starkey at her local Target in Atlanta. This is where the story is supposed to end – a short meeting and a picture to go – except Drew accidentally leaves with the wrong phone, and the story begins, instead.

w/c: 4.4k

a/n: long one! sorry about it. i promise it won’t happen a lot. also, if i catch one of yous hating on holden you’re gonna catch these hands. <3

read on wattpad

previous part | series masterlist

Me | 6:42pm I swear it’s fate that you’re coming back today because you know what Me | 6:42pm MARIANNE IS MAKING GOULASH TOMORROW Me | 6:43pm surprisingly unrelated to you coming back but hey!!

Drew | 6:45pm no way! Drew | 6:45pm Does she make good goulash?

Me | 6:46pm I’d be able to tell if she ever made it before lmao Me | 6:46pm it’s her first time Me | 6:47pm but she’s a pretty good cook overall so!! I wouldn’t expect like a masterpiece or whatever but a decent meal??? Me | 6:47pm f yeah

Drew | 6:48pm I’m inviting myself over Drew | 6:50pm what time should I come by?

Me | 6:57pm if you think for one (1) second that this wasn’t an invitation Me | 6:57pm you are terribly wrong, mr. white claw man

Drew | 7:01pm ok but WHEN SHOULD I COME OVER

Me | 7:02pm oh right

Drew | 7:05pm ???

Me | 7:05pm Marianne says goulash will be around 6 but you can come over at like 4 or 5 so we can catch up!! Me | 7:06pm I still need to show you the album!! I developed some photos I took since we hung out

Drew | 7:07pm 4 sounds great, can’t wait!! Drew | 7:07pm I’ll make sure to bring some White Claw Drew | 7:07pm What does Marianne drink?

Me | 7:08pm Vodka Me | 7:08pm Tequilla Me | 7:09pm jk you don’t have to bring anything, we have enough alcohol in the fridge

Drew | 7:10pm Still bringing beer

Me | 7:10pm And good vibes

Drew | 7:10pm And good vibes, of course

Me | 7:10pm Gonna be good 😄

◇

The bell rings shortly past four o’clock, and Addie buzzes their guest in with a smile on her face. Marianne peeks from the kitchen, leaning over the corner, strands of her hair falling from underneath the headband-bun combo she’s sporting for the cooking.

‘Is it the celebrity judge?’

‘Sure is a judge,’ Addie says, unlocking the door. ‘Not so sure he’d like the celebrity title.’

The door opens and reveals a smiling Drew, in his usual attire – a simple grey tee with a Queen logo on it, black jeans, and a baseball cap. Greetings are exchanged, and then Drew’s taking his shoes off as Addie warns him that maybe Marianne might be a bit much today. There’s a casual whiff of cologne that Addie catches – it’s similar to Holden’s minty one, but simpler.

‘You ready to munch on some British-French-American-Hungarian goulash?’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘Is anyone ever ready for that?’

‘Nope. But Marianne has just called you the celebrity judge of her nonexistent cooking show, so you’ve got no choice but to be ready.’

‘Fair,’ he says, just as Marianne shouts from the kitchen, ‘I’ll have my cooking show soon!’

The self-proclaimed chef pops out of the kitchen, wielding a spatula covered in a dark red, thick liquid. Her red-and-white apron is tied haphazardly around her waist; both the apron and the sweatpants have already become victims to her cooking, and the bun seems to be getting looser by the minute. Marianne flashes the two a massive grin, one finger pointed at Drew.

‘Drew!’

‘Marianne!’

Her grin widens so much Addie’s worried it’ll rip her cheeks. She wiggles her finger, then, in a come here motion. ‘I need your goulash expertise, stat.’

‘Give the man a moment to breathe,’ says Addie. Next to her, Drew chuckles.

‘Do you want to enjoy the goulash?’

‘Yes?’

‘Then let the ones who can make it good do it and stay out of it.’ Marianne crosses her arms over her chest, and a drop of liquid falls off the spatula. She doesn’t even notice. ‘Drew?’

‘Coming right up, boss.’

With a pat on the back from Addie, Drew departs into the kitchen. Marianne is already listing off all the things that she’s put in the goulash, how she’s done it so far, and how the internet has told her needs to be done from now on. Addie tunes most of it out – while she thinks Marianne is one of the best cooks she’s ever met, after living with her for over a year, some things you can’t help but get used to and eventually, get a little bit tired of. She’s happy there’s Drew, though, because he’s either very interested in Marianne’s process and amused by her telling of it, or very good at pretending to be so.

Addie grabs a rather small box with a pink bow on it out of the hallway drawer, right next to a grey envelope, then makes her way to the stack of French books lying underneath the TV. The newest copy of a first-edition of The Unbearable Lightness of Being in French is lying on top of a photo album, the same one that Addie told Drew stories from the last time he was over here. She tucks it under her arm and brings it to the kitchen, which has a prominent smell of Marianne’s cooking – a lot of spices, some of them even scattered around with powder spilling out at the edges, and wine that’s both a part of the dish and accompanying Marianne and whoever’s keeping her company. This time it’s Drew, so instead of wine, there’s a can of White Claw in his hands. Addie chuckles to herself.

Marianne, huddled over the steaming pot, motions for Addie to come closer without looking. ‘How does this smell?’

‘I don’t know how a goulash is supposed to smell.’

‘Like that,’ Drew answers. ‘Stop worrying so much.’

‘If it can be better, I’ll make it better,’ replies Marianne, then asks him to contribute with some spices and then stir it. ‘If it goes badly, you made it. If it’s great, I made it.’

Drew laughed. It was a big kind of laugh, the one that fills out the entire room. Taking a seat at their modest dining table, Addie realised it’s been a while since anyone other than the two of them laughed so freely in this place. (That just made her miserable; she needs to stop focusing so much on work and her studies if she wants to retain a semblance of a social life.) She puts the album down, and places the box right underneath it – just enough to be noticeable.

‘Addie, you didn’t tell me your roommate is basically the female equivalent to Gordon Ramsay.’ Drew’s leaning against one of the cupboards, sipping his drink with a smile. Marianne elbows him in the shoulder, frowning.

‘The kids one, maybe. I don’t swear, that’s Addie’s job. She’s the sailor.’

‘Bitch,’ says Addie under her breath, feeling warmth creeping up into her cheeks as she smiles. ‘Calling me out like that.’

Marianne doesn’t look at her, but Addie hears her quiet giggle. ‘That’s a quarter.’

Addie sighs, and Drew lets out a chuckle that sounds a lot like oh. He probably figured out what the jar filled up with quarters is, and Addie thinks he’s finding it a little too amusing, so she says, ‘Don’t laugh.’

Of course, it doesn’t work.

‘That’s kind of funny, you’ve got to admit.’

‘No.’

He raises his eyebrows at her, not even trying to hide the smile. Addie calls him to look at the albums, after she places a quarter in the jar, because she can feel Marianne is about to side with him and go on a tirade where she makes fun of Addie’s bad habit – not that she minds, really, but she’d much rather see what Drew thinks of the photographs and his birthday present.

It ends up taking him a long time to notice it, which starts driving Addie nuts, but she wants him to be the one to notice it, because… Well. She doesn’t really have a reason.

They go through the photographs and Marianne is hovering over Drew’s shoulder, nearly dripping the goulash a few times onto the album, until Addie tells her that her goulash is burning (it isn’t) and she finally leaves the spatula where it belongs, before coming back to look. She likes the photos, and so does Drew – Addie had most of them developed, both from Waystone and the park they were in. Most of them were of the places, but there were a few of Drew. They weren’t the best quality, but his face was relaxed in them, and he was smiling with a playful glint in his eyes, and Addie liked them more than the ones where he looked like he was posing. (She developed those, too, but still hasn’t quite figured out where to put them. She’ll probably give them to him.) Good memories were made that day, and friendships cemented, too.

When he finally notices the box, his eyebrows shoot up. ‘Is this the present?’

Addie just nods and waits. She’s thankful that Marianne is humming along to the music while she stirs the pot, because it means that there’s no awkward silence while he carefully unwraps the bow, as if it would break if he tugged on it too hard. He opens it, finally, and laughs – Addie feels like he’s been laughing a lot more recently.

He holds the present in his hand, shaking his head. ‘A phone case. Really?’

‘Yep.’ Addie grins so hard she bites a little on the inside of her lip; what if he doesn’t like it? She pushes the thought away. ‘Can’t have us swapping our phones again.’

‘True. Although, it did end up in a pretty good thing.’

‘I guess it did, yeah.’

There’s a moment where they’re just staring at the phone case, as if it is about to start talking. Addie kind of wishes it would, and once again feels thankful for Marianne’s music. She doesn’t want to start reminiscing, but that’s where her brain is going, and suddenly she finds herself thinking about that summer morning where she was hungover and half-asleep when she met him and it feels weird that it’s been nearly six months since that. It feels like it was yesterday, but it feels like Drew’s always been around.

‘Mr. White Claw,’ he reads off the back of the matt case, amused. Addie’s pretty proud of herself for that one.

‘Nothing describes you better than that, basic white bitch.’ She smiles at him, and kicks him under the table so he’d look at her. ‘Happy birthday, dude.’

‘Thanks.’ He raises his can and waits until she raises hers, then says, ‘To swapping phones.’

Addie clinks the can against his. ‘And making friends.’

‘And putting another quarter in the jar. Don’t think I didn’t hear that.’

‘Marianne.’

‘Nu-uh.’ Marianne snaps her fingers, pointing first at Addie as she speaks, then Drew. ‘You, quarter in the jar, and now that the ceremony’s over, I need you back at the cooking station. The goulash ain’t gonna cook itself, mec.’

As Marianne says, the other two do. Addie is honestly just grateful she doesn’t have to be the one helping out in the kitchen, because as much as she enjoys cooking, Marianne’ demands get on her nerves sometimes. That, and Drew is actually enjoying helping her out. Addie gets to sit back and relax, listen to her friends make food and bond over the dishes they can make—turns out Drew is incredible at making his mum’s casserole recipe, and promises to bring it over someday—and she feels like she’s come a long way from being holed up in her room, studying and working. Even if sometimes it feels like nothing’s changed.

In between helping Marianne, Drew puts the phone case in its rightful place. It’s a bit cheesy, but Addie likes the thought that there’ll be a reminder of their friendship with him at all times, if he likes it as much as she thinks he does. It’s a bit silly, too. Addie likes giving and receiving presents that are more silly than useful, which is probably not the savvy and mature way to approach life.

Time wears on, and Addie includes herself every now and then, mostly just chilling on her phone as the two work towards what they claim is going to be a masterpiece. She highly doubts it, and it’s amusing whenever she voices her opinion and they try to argue otherwise. She likes to see them getting along – she’d never admit it, but as much as she knows and loves Marianne, a part of her was still scared he’d get the celebrity treatment. Now, she watches as Marianne threatens to throw goulash if he doesn’t cut the pepper faster, and she can only laugh.

Her phone chimes and there’s a text message displayed over Holden and Addie’s faces – a picture taken barely a week ago. They look happy together, and seeing it brings a smile to her face. As Addie texts back, Marianne ushers Drew away from the pot, finally taking over. Drew joins her at the table with a can of White Claw and a can of Heineken.

She puts her phone down and takes the Heineken with thanks. ‘Cooking time over?’

Drew nods. ‘The chef fired me. I think.’

‘Yeah,’ Addie laughs, ‘the chef tends to do that.’

To prove a point, Marianne gives them the finger, and says a whole sentence in French out of which Addie can only understand ‘merde’, and that is mostly because she turns around for that word, glaring at the two. Drew nearly chokes on his drink, and Addie just shrugs, because it’s Marianne, and no one can really understand Marianne. A conversation starts about photography and how Drew did mean to bring the camera, but he left it with Chase and Madelyn when he was visiting, and he ends up telling them stories from all the sets he’s been on.

When the bell chimes again, he’s the first one to notice, as he’s sitting not even a foot from the entrance into the kitchen. ‘Someone ringing?’

‘Oh, god, I forgot— Thanks!’

Addie makes a beeline for the hallway, giving her friends a quick ‘one moment!’ in lieu of an explanation. She’s at the front door within seconds and opens it with a smile, greeting her boyfriend with a hug, and a kiss on the cheek.

Holden chuckles, and then he’s giving her a brief kiss on the lips before they part. ‘Hello there. You had a bit to drink?’

‘A little,’ Addie says, feeling the heat in her cheeks. ‘I’m glad you stopped by.’

‘Me too.’ His hand falls from her waist and he takes a step back, looking around. ‘You’ve got the papers?’

Addie reaches into the drawer and takes the grey folder out of it, but doesn’t give it to him just yet. ‘I know you’re in a hurry, but Marianne is making enough goulash for a whole village, and Drew’s here, and I want to introduce you.’

‘He’s here?’ he asks, just at the same time as Marianne shouts from the kitchen, ‘WHO IS IT?’

In her defense, she thought it would’ve been a nice surprise for Holden to stop by and stick around for a little bit once he got what he came here for, and maybe chat to her friends for a few minutes. The idea might’ve been fine, but hearing Holden’s little sigh at the realisation and a guaranteed confusion from the two in the kitchen, it might’ve not been a fine surprise. This paired with Holden only meeting Marianne of her friends so far...

‘C’mon,’ she tells him, hoping to reassure herself just as much, and takes hold of his hand. ‘They don’t bite.’

Back in the kitchen, Marianne and Drew are leaning on the cupboards, both of them silent and waiting. Addie walkins into the kitchen first, and she watches their eyes follow her hand – the one which drags Holden in behind her. Marianne shouts his name and nearly leaps to hug him, while Drew remains at his spot, gnacing between the two having a quick catch-up and Addie, who tries to tell him not to worry in the form of a smile.

His eyes keep dropping back to their hands, intertwined, and she can see barely-concealed confusion on his face.

‘This is Holden,’ she says, now that Marianne isn’t hogging him anymore. ‘My boyfriend. Holden, this is Drew.’

They shake hands and exchange the ‘nice to meet you’s without anyone feeling the need to prove themselves to be the Alpha male, so Addie counts it as a win. Not that she thought either of them would do that – she just hasn’t seen Drew interact with anyone who wasn’t her or Marianne, and Drew is, after Marianne, the first person from Addie’s life Holden has gotten to meet.

The more she thinks of it, the more she realises how risky it was.

‘You’re the actor Drew, right?’

For a moment, Addie just watches Drew – his hands are crossed on his chest and he looks a little menacing, now that she tries to see him from Holden’s perspective. Tall and pretty attractive, pretty relaxed in a place he’s barely been to, and with the reputation of a successful actor – and to top it all off, a resting bitch face.

Addie’s heart skips a beat.

Drew laughs and she feels relief wash over her, instead. ‘Is that how she presents me to people?’

‘Drew, it’s literally how we met,’ she says, rolling her eyes at him from across the room. ‘How else am I supposed to explain how I know you?’

‘Fair.’

There’s a moment where the sizzling of the goulash is all that can be heard, but Addie doesn’t think it’s one of those heavy silences, where every person seems like they’re holding their breath. She takes it as a good sign.

Holden pats his thigh, then, and he has an apologetic face when he says, ‘I’ve got to go. Work won’t wait forever.’ He flashes Drew a smile. ‘Nice meeting you, Drew.’

‘You too.’

Addie sighs. ‘You just got here.’

He opens his mouth to say something, but Marianne is quicker: ‘You try this goulash, look me in the eye, and say you don’t want more of it.’ There’s no and then you can go, because Addie has a feeling Marianne knows pretty well just how good the goulash is.

She commands the room as she approaches Holden with the tiniest bit of goulash steaming from the spatula over her hand. Her eyes are determined and there’s a crook in the corner of her lips – the sly kind of smile when she knows she’s already won. Holden doesn’t get a chance to protest, because the spatula is headed for him, and he’s got nothing to do but take it.

The room holds a breath. Even Drew is looking at Holden in expectation, chin resting on the palm of his hand.

For a bit, Holden just coughs and complains about the hotness (Marianne argued he had to have been blind to not see that it was steaming). Once he’s finally back to normal breathing and side-eyeing Addie for giggling at him, he tells Marianne it’s one of the best things he’s ever tasted.

Addie could swear she could see pride and self-satisfaction through Marianne’s eyes.

‘Now that Holden is staying,’ says Addie, ‘can the rest of us have some, too?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ replies Marianne, with a newfound spring in her step, grace in the way she moves. Drew laughs at her, quietly, and Addie finds herself laughing with him.

Marianne brings out the goulash and Addie helps pour it into the bowls, handing each of them one. The chef ends up taking Addie’s chair, on Addie’s insistence, because what does she deserve after all these hours other than enjoying her efforts in peace? So Addie leans on the counter, ignoring Marianne’s protests that it’s dirty (‘These shorts need to go into the wash anyway’) and savours the food. It’s unbelievably good – Drew even comments at one point that it’s as good as the one his Hungarian neighbour made, if not better. Marianne glows after each compliment, so Addie doesn’t really stop giving them. Even as the conversation goes on, and Holden stays a little longer than planned, they keep sprinkling in nice comments about the goulash whenever they can.

Addie’s glad Holden and Drew are here for this, however unplanned it was.

Holden slaps his thigh again, in the very same manner with the very same look on his face and this time, Addie catches herself right before she laughs. ‘I’ve really got to go now,’ he says, getting to his feet. ‘Work calls.’

He walks up to Addie and she smiles at him, elbowing him gently in the ribs. ‘That’s okay, Mr. Workaholic. We understand.’

She thinks maybe she’s pushing it, but Holden smiles and reaches the other side of her waist, tickling just enough so that she groans for him to stop. ‘You’ve got it just as bad as I do,’ he tells her, and she can’t argue.

‘Wait, Holden.’ Marianne twirls her spoon in front of her space, brow furrowed, and a distant look on her face. ‘Can I ask you lot a personal question?’

‘Marianne—’

‘Don’t worry about it, Addie. I won’t bother them too much.’

Marianne does give her a reassuring smile, or what’s meant to be one, because Addie doesn’t feel particularly reassured. The girl, for all the love Addie holds for her, really has a thing for pushing the limits and boundaries without meaning to. Addie sinks into herself, arms crossed on her chest with Holden’s hand still resting on her waist, and hopes Marianne picks her approach carefully. Addie might know her well enough, but Drew and Holden don’t.

‘Sure,’ says Drew, leaning back in his chair. ‘What is it?’

Instead of responding, he looks at Holden until he agrees to it, too. She takes a deep breath, then, and gives them the shaky kind of confident smile as her fingers fix up her bun. ‘How important are romantic things in a relationship to guys?’

Addie resists dropping her head in her hands. She just sighs. Glares a little.

Lets it all unfold.

The hand on Addie’s waist moves a little, with no purpose. She can hear Holden breathe more deeply, as he always does when he’s trying to crack a problem. Drew, on the other hand, frowns; his eyes stare out of the window, the distance noticeable in them. Part of Addie wishes the question was never asked – part of it is as glad that it wasn’t bad as it is honest that maybe, Addie is curious about the answers, too.

‘Probably shouldn’t ask Holden that while Addie’s around,’ jokes Drew.

‘Ha-ha. Very funny.’

Drew looks at her and shrugs, a smile peeking through. (Addie found it a little bit funny and he can see it.) He sighs a little and scratches the place above his eyebrow, glancing at Marianne. ‘What kind of romantic things are we talking about?’

‘I don’t know.’ Marianne waves her hand in a vague motion, then lets it go back to fiddling with the bun. ‘Um, dates, quality time together, gifts or flowers or whatever, that romantic sappy kind of shite.’

‘It depends, then,’ Holden says, voice deep and laced in thought, just as Drew speaks with confidence, ‘Very important.’

Drew chuckles and Holden smiles, too, but Marianne doesn’t look very reassured, so Drew leans forward in the chair, placing his elbows on the table with his hands crossed. ‘Look, it depends on the guy, yeah, but most guys like the romantic stuff. Going on dates, getting flowers and chocolates, candlelit dinners and just spending quality time together is a big deal. Not having that is just kind of… I don’t know.’

Marianne nods. She’s looking at Drew as if she were soaking his words like a sponge, and not one that likes them.

‘I don’t really agree,’ says Holden, after letting out a little ‘hmmm’ sound. ‘I mean, it really depends on the guy, but also the partner. Look at Addie and I – we spend most of our time together at work, or doing work, and it’s something we love doing so the time we spend together doing that is what we’d consider quality time, right? And you don’t— We don’t need all that romantic stuff. If you know someone likes you, there’s no need to constantly show it. If it works already.’

Addie just stares at the ground. All eyes are on her, now, even if not physically – she can just feel the attention on her. Does she agree? Yes, for the most part, and it’s not her Marianne is asking this time. They’ve already spoken about this. Marianne knows Addie enjoys the approach she and Holden have with the relationship.

When she finally looks up, she catches Drew’s eyes for a moment, and then they’re gone before she can read them. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘I guess it depends on your relationship and your boyfriend, then.’

‘My friend’s.’ Marianne nods with a smile that looks like it’s about to slip off. ‘I’m asking for a friend.’

Drew leans back. ‘Sure, yeah. I hope your friend manages to sort it out.’

Marianne thanks him, then makes a joke about the goulash being finger-licking, and within moments everything’s as if there wasn’t just a serious conversation. A little later, Addie walks Holden out, receiving a gentle kiss on the lips before he leaves. Drew sticks around for a little while longer and when Marianne invites Drew to their group’s annual Fourth of July party (very exclusive), Addie feels like it’s another unpredictable-Marianne moment she should’ve foreseen.

For better or worse, though, Drew shakes his head with a little sigh. ‘Thanks for the invitation, but I’ve already booked a flight home.’

‘Oh.’ Marianne nods, not even trying to hide her disappointment. ‘Shame. We throw the best parties around Atlanta.’

Drew chuckles, tugging his jacket sleeves over his arms. ‘I don’t doubt that for a second. I’ll catch one of them, at some point.’

‘Yeah. You should.’

Addie is leaning against the wall, watching them talk about their plans for the Fourth of July, and realises she’s happy that Holden’s met Drew. She’s happy he’s integrating into her friend group, at least bit by bit. It kind of makes everything more real; more permanent. Later, she finds out from Marianne that Drew messaged her, thanking her for the goulash experience. When she’s lying in bed, thinking about all the work she needs to do tomorrow because she slacked off today, a thought pops up: Marianne’s birthday is going to be soon, and that is bound to be a wholesome party.

Addie falls asleep with a smile on her face.

◇

19: THANKFUL

tagging. (let me know if you want to be tagged!) @jjmaybanksbaby @ofpinkfizz @snkkat @drewswannabegirl @yeslifeofateen @rudypnkw @stfukie @x-lulu @drewstarkey @butgilinsky @solllaris @hyperactive2411 @chasefreakinstokes @surferkie @jroseron @k-k0129 @starlightstories @rafecameron

#phone swap series #drew starkey #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey fic #outer banks #obx

48 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 5 years

Text

Discredit Pt. 2: More Recommended Reviews For A.Z. Fell’s

Alright, folks. Some notes first:

1. You all rock. I’m sending out 20k+ virtual hugs for all the notes I NEVER expected to get on this nonsense.

2. This is probably the final section, just because I’m not sure I can adequately follow up part one and it might be foolish to attempt it here. Let alone twice. But for now, here we go.

3. Kudos to the anon who reminded me of Aziraphale’s cash-only policy <3

4. Nicole Y’s review is based off an actual comment I read years ago, but heaven only knows where online it was. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish.

5. Trigger warning for the use of a queer slur in this. It’s the same review as above, number 5 if you want to avoid it.

6. There’s a text-only version of just the reviews at the end, after all the images. I’ll upload that to my Sparse Clutter collection on AO3 in a bit.

Bonus 7. People thinking this is a real shop deserve all the good things in this world.

That’s all I’ve got. Hope you enjoy! 👍

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

I’m a simple guy who likes simple jokes. If there’s a whoopee cushion I plant it. I will call you up to ask if your refrigerator is running and then tell you to go catch it. (Actually that one died out so thoroughly it’s actually capable of a comeback now!). Yes, I’m a dad and yes, I have a t-shirt that says Dad Jokes? I Think You Mean Rad Jokes! which I wear un-ironically every Saturday. All of which is just to say that my wife was well prepared for my stupidity when I walked into Fell’s.

I? I was not.

You see the bibles when you walk in? The ones to the left? Let them be. Don’t even look at them. Definitely don’t pick out the fanciest one you can find and absolutely don’t walk up to the owner with it held in your pudgy little fingers, grinning like a loon, cheerfully asking whether this should be in the fiction section. Just don’t. Mark my words you’ll regret it. Though your wife won’t. She’ll get a great old laugh out of it all.

In conclusion: it’s quite possible that mama did raise a fool and he just got his ass verbally whooped by a guy in a bowtie.

***

Shout-out to Mr. Fell for being the only decent bloke in this city. I’ve popped in and out of his store for years—including before I started transitioning. So he knew my dead name, dead look, whole shebang and I was definitely nervous to play the ‘You know me, but this is what’s changed and are you gonna throw a fit about it?’ game.

You know what he said? “Oh, Rose! What a lovely choice. Crowley dear, why aren’t you growing any roses? Some white ones would look splendid next to my Henredon chair.”

That’s it. He just went straight into dragging his partner for not giving him roses. So hey, Mom? Next time you’re snooping through my social media why don’t you explain to all these nice people why the 50+yo book seller accepts me in ways you won’t. Don’t go telling me age is an excuse or that you’re ‘Stuck in your ways.’ I’ve watched Fell dress in the same damn clothes since I was ten!!

Yeah. Sorry. Rant over. Fell’s a gem. That’s my take. Rose out.

***

Anyone else in the shop when that guy started yelling about buying pornography? And then got escorted into the back room for some ‘private conversation’? Well done, Mr. Fell! Didn’t know you had it in you.

***

Alright alright alright alright I am TOTALLY calm about this.

Went into A.Z. Fell’s last Thursday. Not because I knew anything about the place. Just because I’ve been hitting up every bookshop within a twenty-mile radius, asking if they’re hosting any book signings. Long story short I self-published my novel Blight last month—which you can get for a mere £5 here but I swear this isn’t a promotional thing I’m just BROKE—and have been looking for networking opportunities, tips, stuff like that. So the owner listened politely as I explained all this. Then said he didn’t do anything of that sort, which didn’t surprise me given the shop’s vibe.

But then? Then??? He offered to let me do a signing there??????

As said. Totally calm about this. This man either plans to kidnap me or is actually giving me my first shot at an audience outside my blog. AKA totally worth the risk.

Tuesday the 9th. 7:00pm. Just in case anyone’s interested ;)

***

holy sweet baby jesus i was tripping balls last week you tryin’ to tell me that kING KONG SIZED FANGED FUCK SNAKE IS REAL

***

Witnessed the most perfect exchange the other day:

Grumpy Dude With No Manners: “You. Boy. Where’s the man I spoke with over the phone?”

Mr. Fell’s Partner Who Knows Damn Well Only Two of Them Work There But Clearly Doesn’t Like This Guy’s Tone: “Did this man give you his name?”

Grumpy Dude: “Might have. Don’t remember. Sounded like a fairy though.”

Me: “....”

My girlfriend: “....”

This Poor Sweet Startled Kid On Our Left: “?!?!?!?”

Fell’s Partner In The Drollest Voice I’ve Ever Heard: “None of us have wings. Out!”

***

This shop gets full stars simply because every time I walk in they’re playing Queen.

I mean, I’ve walked in once, but once is enough when you’ve got Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasting full volume.

***

Okay, I’m still kind of shaken up but I needed to write this out somewhere and this seemed as good a place as any.

I spilled my latte on a book. Just tripped on thin air, popped the lid, and chucked a venti’s worth of coffee all over a very expensive looking text. I didn’t mean to, obviously, but it happened and I just started bawling on the spot. Full on sobs because this semester has been absolute hell, I ruined this guy’s antique, there’s no way I can pay for it, I can’t even sneak away because I’m drawing the whole store’s attention...just all the things all at once. I really was straight up panicking and was seconds away from pulling out my inhaler. I couldn’t breathe.

And then Mr. Fell showed up.

Jesus it’s embarrassing to admit but I think I hit him once or twice. On the arms I mean, because he was trying to touch me and I figured, I don’t know, it was a restraint or something. He was going to call the police and hold me until they got there. But then he managed to start rubbing my back and I lost it like I hadn’t already been bawling my eyes out in this shop. Ever cry into a perfect stranger’s chest? I have! But if Mr. Fell seemed to mind he definitely didn’t show it. Just kept holding me while I probably ruined his shirt and then took me into the back and made me a new coffee in this cute little angel mug. He let me stay there while I called my sister and waited for her to arrive.

She’s a good twenty minutes outside of Soho, so we talked for a while. It’s not like Mr. Fell could fix my shit roommate or bio classes, but I guess just talking about it all really helped. I was a lot calmer by the time my sis arrived and Mr. Fell insisted I come back any time I wanted—for browsing or more coffee.

Of course, sis offered to pay for the book herself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so surprised in my life. “Certainly not!” he said. “Contrary to popular belief, no one should pay for their mistakes. It’s what makes you all so wonderfully human.”

So yeah. Thanks, Mr. Fell.

***

This little shop must have started a book club for kids! Lately I’ve seen the same group of children hanging out at Fell’s. Three boys and a girl. They’re a bit rambunctious at times, but who isn’t at that age? So wonderful seeing literature passed down to the next generation. Even if some of it is rather questionable looking...

***

It’s an honest crime that more of you aren’t talking about what a wonderful bookstore this is.

I’m a book lover at heart and Fell’s always makes me feel like I’m coming home. I just arrived somewhere safe and familiar after a particularly harrowing day. I’ve slipped under the covers of my bed after dinner and a bubble bath. It’s something like that, but with an element of surprise too. One of the reasons why I adore private and used shops over chain stores is that little touch of chaos. You walk in and sure, there are general sections to browse, but everything is just a little bit disorganized from people leafing through books and then putting them back somewhere else. There’s no real record keeping, you’ve just gotta head to one particular corner and hope for the best. It’s not the sort of place you go to if you want something specific because the chances of them having it are slim—that’s just how the universe works—and even if they did no employee knows where it is anymore.

But if you wander the shelves for a while, crouch down low to get a look at everything on the bottom shelf, pay attention to the books that don’t have easy to read titles or any summaries to speak of... you just might find something you didn’t know you were looking for. That’s Fell’s: the comfort of the familiar and the excitement of the unknown.

*** A lot of people might assume that these stories are embellished or outright made up, but as a bookseller myself going on twenty years I believe every single one of them.

That being said, I accidentally moved a rug and found chalk sigils that look like they belong in a cult. Make of that what you will.

***

There’s a special place in hell for 21st century shop owners that only take cash. Who carries cash anymore? Not me! I haven’t bothered with that nonsense in years! You can get a card reader for 15 pounds on Amazon. Or you know what? Be stingy and pay 7 for the little attachment on your phone. This place is nuts if it thinks it’s going to survive much longer on a cash-only policy, especially with some books that look like they’re worth hundreds or thousands of pounds! Yeah, yeah, just let me pull out this giant wad of bills for you. I’ll carry them around a crime-laden city because there’s no ATM near you either.

I mean jesus, you’d think this guy didn’t want to sell anything.

***

I walked in. There was a man screaming at a fern while another threatened him with an umbrella. I walked out.

5 stars do recommend.

***

I once walked in on the same (?) guy yelling at a book for daring to fall on the owner’s head. I think that’s just a Thing over there.

***

Like a lot of people here I didn’t actually go to Fell’s for any books (flat tire, Angel Recovery taking forever) and ended up staying three hours (not because of Angel). No, I wandered towards the back and found this ancient CRT set propped on a table of books, the kind that my Dad used to watch Twilight Zone on. This lanky guy had a marathon of Gilmore Girls going... though how he was managing that with a broken antenna and no DVR, I really don’t know. But yeah. He told me to pull up a chair and I did. Guy gave me popcorn.

I wish I’d paid a little more attention to his name. Charlie? Curley? I really can’t remember, but thanks for the enjoyable afternoon, man.

***

I BOUGHT A BOOK HERE

Not sure how though. Just kinda happened. First edition of Just William. Frankly I didn’t even want the thing, but the owner basically shoved me out the door with it when I took two seconds to look at the spine. Odd that he was so willing to part with this one.

Update: ... hold up. I didn’t buy a book because I never actually paid the guy. ‘Basically shoved me out the door’ was literal. Do I go back??

***

This page has really gone feral the last couple of months so I’m just gonna bite the bullet and say it:

Anyone notice that Fell’s snake and Fell’s partner are never in the same room together?

***

I really don’t like the implications of this…

***

This is precisely why the Internet has turned into a cesspool. You all should be ashamed of some of the stuff you’re writing here. Can’t two men just be friends anymore? Two real life men? These guys aren’t some characters for you to ‘ship’ or whatever. Quit making outrageous assumptions about their sexualities and use this website for what it’s actually for: reviewing the bookshop. Honestly I’m so sick of this sort of this shit.

***

Dude. They run a queer-focused shop together with a flat on the second floor. Fell calls the guy ‘Dear’ and he’s always calling him ‘Angel.’ People have literally seen them kissing. If you want I can give you the number of my physician. He might be able to help you pull your head out of your ass.

***

What the hell is your problem? I’m literally just reminding people to stop making assumptions. It’s gross and insulting. These guys check their Yelp page. You really think they’re gonna be okay with this stuff?

Also: I’m not the five-year-old relying on insults, so.

***

Making an account purely to set the record straight: I’m the hot twink in question and I married that angel. Peace

#good omens #ineffable husbands #air conditioning #good omens fic #guess who spent 48 hours doing nothing but writing and formatting #can I get a wahoo

11K notes · View notes

of-elves-and-mad-hatters · 3 years

Text

“The Azure Sky”- Chapter 5 -Lego Elves

Shadows to the Brightest Flame: Series

- The legacy of Lumia’s influence is scarred eternally into the lands of Elvendale. Burdened by a prophecy foretelling her demise and need for a successor, she watches for one capable of such power. Yet her enemies are working steadily to undo all she’s labored so long for, and it is millenia too late to make peace.

Emily Jones, heir to Eimileen, is a bold girl dedicated to protecting Elvendale, but the world she has grown so fond of is not so black and white as it seems, and the titles of Guardian of Portal and Guardian of Light may hold darker legacies some ancient elves have worked tirelessly to hide.

In conjunction with the extended version of the Guardian of Light prophecy I wrote previously

Basically a rewrite of all of the Lego Elves & Secrets of Elvendale storylines with an additional arc beyond the Season 4: Into the Shadows. There will be a varying degree of deviation from canon.

Technically a crossover with Lord of the Rings/Hobbit/Silmarillion in terms of worldbuidling, as I set Elvendale as being north of Middle-Earth, cause this is fanfic and I can. So there will be mentions of the Noldor, Sindar, Silvan, and some Tolkien characters, but they will be mostly background. Definitely not an issue if you aren’t familiar with the Middle-Earth fandom; everything will still be easy to understand.

Book 1: The Azure Sky

Grieving over the unexpected death of her grandmother, Emily Jones is accidentally trapped in another world. Befriending a few young elves in an attempt to find her way home, Emily discovers many secrets about her grandmother’s past, but for every truth she learns two more questions take its place, leaving her vulnerable to darker force inhabiting this realm.

A rewrite of Unite the Magic

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 5

Their glasses of fireplume cordial clink in a toast.

“To Naida!” Azari and Aira cheer. Naida’s face flushes.

Farran has the map spread out on his knees. “The next key is somewhere in the Crystal Hollows.”

Naida nods, “I noticed. We’ll have to sail through the night to make it there by morning.”

“Aren’t those woods inhabited?” Aira inquires.

“Not for a few centuries. Some consider the land cursed after what happened to the colony that tried to settle there.”

“What happened?”

“A company of exiled dwarves, overwhelmed by the beauty of the gems, tried to drive the elves out. The resulting conflict turned quite bloody.”

“Hmm, mad axe-wielding midgets and enchanted rocks; sounds like you might have a chance to prove that bravery you’re always talking about, Farran Leafshade,” Azari teases.

The earth elf huffs. “I don’t need to prove anything just because you’re a daredevil. There’s more to courage than simply being insane.”

Azari’s face shifts into mock surprise. She grins. “That’s just what buzzkills say.”

Farran shakes his head before the entire table breaks into giggles.

Emily swirls the cordial in her glass. “I was wondering something,” she begins, “Azari calls you ‘Farran Leafshade’, but when you introduced yourself you said ‘Farran Folasion’. Do you have like, two last names, or is one your middle name?”

The four elves furrow their brows. Emily blushes. “I didn’t mean to be rude or anything, just forget it…”

“No, Emily, you’re fine, it’s just…we don’t know what you mean by ‘last’ and ‘middle names’.” Naida explains.

“Oh, um, a last name is your family name, I guess. My last name is ‘Jones’ because my father’s last name was Jones, and so was his father’s and so on. It helps identify what family you belong to. As for middle names, they go in between your first name and last name, though I don’t really know why.”

“So, a house name,” Aira considers, “Where all the relatives identify themselves by the name of their founding ancestor…”

“That sounds pretty similar,” Emily nods in agreement.

“We don’t use house names in this part of Elvendom; actually only a minority of one of the Elven peoples, some of the Noldor, do. Most elves here use their given name, the one bestowed to them by their parents at birth or in early childhood. To further identify ourselves, we may also add a second name, which could be a nickname or a name given as a result of some significant deed or unique occurance. Those can be either in Common-tongue or their original elvish dialect. ‘Leafshade’ is the common-tongue translation of a second name given to me by my father when I officially reached adulthood; that practice is pretty common up here.

Now, in a formal setting you don’t just use any other name of yours to introduce yourself. The second name you use is the name of your parent with the suffix ‘son of’ or ‘daughter of’. If you’re a guy, you use your father’s name, and if you’re a girl you use your mother’s name. My father’s name is Folas, so when I introduce myself formally I say ‘Farran Folasion’. ‘Ion’ means ‘son’ in most elvish languages.”

“And I would be ‘Aira Arlaynaiel’, since my mother’s name is ‘Arlayna’ and ‘iel’ means daughter. But most of the time I go by Aira Windwhistler,” the wind elf chimes in.

“That’s really interesting,” Emily muses, eyes alit in curiosity as she turns to Naida and Azari. “What about your names?”

“Formally, I am ‘Naida Marionaiel’. Usually I go by ‘Naida Riverheart’.”

“I don’t go to formal events, so I’m pretty much just ‘Azari Firedancer’; but if I ever did I would be ‘Azari Pyriaiel’.” The fire elf slurps noisily from her cordial.

“That’s cool,” Emily replies, feeling a bit repetitive. She looks out over the horizon, where the pastel blues and pinks of the sky have bled into deep reds and oranges. The sun hangs low, weary.

“It’ll be dark soon,” Naida observes. “We should prepare for the night ahead.”

__________________________

Emily turns over onto her side, restlessly flips back over again. She sighs, allowing her heavy lids to open.

The deep, unpolluted sky spangled with endless stars greets her. The streak of a comet flashes before her eyes.

It is beautiful.

Emily sits up, looking over the side of the boat onto the water. Beneath the surface of the waves seems to be its own galaxy, brilliant, shimmering colors traveling underneath. She remembers learning something about this phenomenon in one of her science classes, but the details escape her mind.

She’s not sure it would matter, for in this world the natural and unnatural are so inexplicably intwined that most scientists from her world would never be able to understand it.

So strange, so magnificent, even here in the still of the night.

Maybe that’s why she can’t sleep, the silence so foreign to her ears used to traffic noise and the flurry of nocturnal critters scampering in the garden. Or perhaps part of her is still expecting to wake up and find that all of this had been a dream.

She glances over at the four sleeping elves, reassured by their presence. She lays back down on the bench, pulling the blanket back over her body. She shuts her eyes, praying away her insomnia.

She finds her eyes fluttering open again and she groans softly in frustration. She finds herself tracing a knot in the smooth, finished wood, mind racing with all sorts of jumbled thoughts. One keeps circling back to the surface.

Why did her grandmother never tell her about this place?

Did she plan to, but her death came about unexpectedly, or did she intend to keep it a secret forever?

Would her grandmother have wanted her to end up here? Was this what was supposed to happen?

Why had she been left to deal with this alone?

Emily feels tears beginning to well up in the corners of her eyes. She shuts them, curcling into a fetal position.

She begins to hum, just the tune at first, the lullaby being so distant in her memory. As her breathing calms, drifting closer to the bliss of sleep, the words reveal themselves.

Earth moves the air, and the wind feeds the fire;

Magic is here, if you dare to believe.

Sail out to sea, on an ocean of mystery,

And bring your heart, to the ones that you meet.

#lego elves #unite the magic #fanfiction #fanfic #background crossover lotr elves #elven culture #emily jones #azari firedancer #naida riverheart #farran leafshade #aira windwhistler #elvendale #quest for the keys

4 notes · View notes

chrysalizzm · 3 years

Text

i uh. realized people follow me now because of uh. you’re human tonight on ao3 asdjgfs

i have content!! behind the scenes content as promised. i do outlines for my fics as a general rule of thumb just because i personally can’t write things to a satisfying finish if i don’t Do That, and so - here are my chapter/plot outlines for you’re human tonight ^^ (i have no idea if this is interesting content or not i thought i’d put it out there because i think outlines are kinda fun hhhh)

chap 1 fundy

subtitle: an inkling

fundy makes an iron golem gone wrong, dream makes it go boom

chap 2 purpled

subtitle: uh oh social interaction

purpled shelters a fugitive, gets his house explosion-proofed as thanks

this is probably gonna be the only chapter with a funny title hh oh well

update: it’s not and i’m pleased with myself for branching out with my dry humor

chap 3 sapnap

subtitle: dust to dust

sapnap’s dying via wither effect, and he knows respawn’s around the corner but goddamn if it doesn’t hurt til then. dream skids in around the nether fortress corner, drops all his weapons cradles sapnap’s head in his hands, has always taken death much harder than anyone sapnap’s ever met. at the last few seconds, when death creeps up like a shroud, dream starts to hum to him hoarsely, pressing his forehead to sapnap’s, and in the final moments sapnap doesn’t hurt at all. the last thing he hears is dream whimpering. he visits dream’s bunker the next day, knocks on the door over and over, but there’s no sign of life there. sapnap shrugs, bites his lip out of guilt for forcing dream to sit there watching him die (if temporarily), and moves on.

the chapter that introduces dream’s primary ability of soothing hurts. put a lot of emphasis on the fact that sapnap ached up until the moment dream started humming, because for dream to do that is pretty frivolous considering once sapnap died he’d respawn and the hurt would just disappear but dream wanted sapnap to have a peaceful last few seconds. emphasize how abnormal it is that withering stops hurting.

chap 4 ponk

subtitle: beaches dry of sugarcane

dream visits ponk after george burns down the first tree. when ponk arrives to the second tree to move in, he realized dream made the tree flourish, grow healthier and bigger.

chap 5 sam

subtitle: fuck this shit i’m out (edit: the official subtitle is “oh god oh fuck”, i changed it last-minute)

dream picks sam’s brain for manhunt strategies while the latter is mining for redstone. sam stumbles upon a spawner and reels back, trips, nearly misses the moment dream sweeps him behind him and his eyes flash beneath the mask and when sam gets back up, dazed, there’s nothing but the splay of cobwebs all over the walls.

chap 6 punz

subtitle: lines drawn

in an unrelated skirmish, punz drives his sword up to the hilt in dream’s chest, relying on respawn for dream to not feel any pain and for punz to get paid. dream doesn’t die. this is understandably alarming.

can we get some funnies in chap? just a few laughs?? a lil funny for mr luke punz man?

can we get some panicky dry humor for real tho because punz strikes me as someone who copes with morbid humor and dream spluttering up blood is def a situation that punz would not know how to deal with

chap 7 wilbur

subtitle: so about that date

wilbur makes platonic moves on dream while dream fake texts his fiance under the table. wilbur also accidentally vents to dream about his little brother tommy and how afraid he is that tommy will get himself hurt for how reckless he is. dream siphons some of his anxiety from him, smiles as they depart from one another. wilbur notes that dream is shaking when they leave.

chap 8 skeppy

subtitle: get wrecked noob

dream walks skeppy through some pvp. when skeppy demands a rematch w tommy and gets a lil stage fright kinda sorta thing, dream siphons his anxiety and his nerves and goes full soccer mom with bad and skeppy loses 5-2 but like!! he won!! against tommyinnit!! HH

is there any mental image nearly as powerful as dream wastaken, the soccer mom

chap 9 jack

subtitle: mandatory volunteering

after tommy goes on another one of his destructive rampages lmao, dream enlists jack, newest-comer, to help him rebuild stuff bc underclassmen have to do whatever upperclassmen tell them to do thems just the rules. after rebuilding a statue near the community house, dream pats it fondly, and when tommy sneaks back to set in on fire for shits and giggles, he finds that it’s fuckin fireproofed AGAIN

rebuild efforts, i promised monuments rebuilt so thats what theyre gonna fuckin Get

chap 10 antfrost

subtitle: twist the knife

ant on what ends up being an unpublicized manhunt: dream stops the manhunt because he’s triggered a raid and by the time the hunters get there, alarmed by the screaming and the fire and dream’s unresponsiveness, the villagers are all dead and there are raider corpses everywhere and dream is lying near the bell on his side, whimpering. (what the hunters don’t know - dream tried to fight off the raid but was overwhelmed and witnessed the village get slaughtered, he took the pain of the villagers that weren’t dead but were dying.)

segment: There’s a reason they do the manhunts, and it’s not just for them to horse around and try to kill one another for a few days. Antfrost is the newcomer but he’s always been good at reading people and from the outset he knew that Dream was someone filled to the brim with the restlessness that characterizes humans, that never-settling wanderlust, and his brain works too fast for the rest of his body sometimes, and he just needs an outlet. It’s part of why he eggs Tommy on in their little war games, why he holds onto those discs even though he doesn’t need them, why he gets that delighted look on his face when someone tells him that Tommy’s griefed them or stolen from them or otherwise ruined their morning. Antfrost thinks the only times he’s ever really seen Dream silent, Dream waiting, Dream unmoving, are when Dream is

chap 11 karl

subtitle: head in the shallows

karl, sapnap, george, and dream have a sleepover after mcc 11. karl, nearest to dream, wakes up when dream starts tossing and turning from a nightmare. when he tries to shake dream awake, dream’s eyes fly open and he slams his fist into the wall behind him and the earth, the literal earth, the entire slab of it, shudders like an earthquake. sapnap and george sleep like the dead, so it’s just karl and dream staring at one another. finally karl asks, concerned, “do you want some tea or water or anything?”

chap 12 hbomb

subtitle: a maid’s burden

“i want to dress up as a maid for fundy,” says hbomb with false bravado. fundy’s fiance levels a very impassive look at him for an awkward minute or two and just when hbomb thinks he’s misread dream and fundy’s relationship dream says “i’ll get you a wig” and the entire chapter is just dream idly twisting the fabric of reality to get hbomb the items he needs to put the outfit together

pranks, i promised pranks, theyre gonna get pranks

chap 13 alyssa

subtitle: message in a bottle (edit: official subtitle is “ship in a bottle”)

alyssa’s leaving, at least temporarily.

alyssa tells dream it’s getting dangerous on his server, doesn’t relish the expression that brings to his face, but he holds her hands and nods and bids her safe journey. when alyssa returns, running for something (later we’ll learn she had heard that dream was bad, that he might be dying), she finds that her house is completely inaccessible by everyone save her, placed in complete stasis by someone.

start of the chapters leading up to festival arc. build unresolved tension in this one.

chap 14 niki

subtitle: life doesn’t discriminate

wilbur and tommy are relentless, they waste no time; niki is willing to wait for it.

the night before the duel, she goes to dream and holds a sword to his throat and demands he call it off, even though she knows it’ll mean little because of respawn, tells him she won’t stop hunting him down until he gives up l’manberg. dream smiles a little sadly and pats her hand and her fright, her rage, it simmers back down, and the anger that had swarmed her and made dream out to be the devil dies down until it’s just her friend, who was playing along with tommy til it got serious and he got cocky, who’s just as in over his head as she is, and maybe niki’s soft but she likes that about herself, that she’s always the first to forgive. niki is looking at the healing cut on dream’s neck, uncovered by any bandages, when dream shoots tommy, a clean shot that causes no suffering.

a long chapter, probably. i think at some point in this i want to mention niki’s respect for dream for apologizing during the first pet war, for not letting things get any bigger until fundy came back. some parallels can be drawn here - that dream let the fire die down in the initial stages of the pet war, that dream won’t let go of the l’manberg war now, and it occurs to niki that she doesn’t know dream nearly as well as she thinks she does if she expected him to act exactly the way he did during the pet war. she’s got what she’s wanted - dream’s remorse, proof of dream’s humanity - even though it’s not in the form niki wanted it.

chap 15 eret

subtitle: crown of thorns

the king in name only consults with the true leader.

they’re both upset about pogtopia’s exile, eret arguably more so because they think their early betrayal of l’manberg somehow butterfly-effected into the current dumpster fire, and as they talk eret works themself into a full panic attack reflecting on things that were, things that could’ve been - and the tide washes out all of a sudden, and eret’s left with the same looming hollowness they’d been feeling before, no dregs of the panic, they’ve never had a panic attack that left them feeling normal after - but dream is now wheezing like he’s about to die and eret immediately walks him through the panic attack, levelheaded even as they’re confused out of their mind.

chap 16 quackity

subtitle: water to blood

quackity is a snake in the grass.

quackity at schlatt’s side during the few weeks of his presidency. he knows schlatt from before, has been his friend, so he knows when his friend is acting off. the cynical, straight-faced humor is still there, his completely bland delivery and brazen showmanship, but it’s twisted to the left somehow, to make it so that those qualities that make up his friend have rotted, hurt people. quackity eventually goes to dream after schlatt first overdoses with a lot of questions, maybe even to confess that his allegiance has begun to shift because he can’t go to pogtopia and he can’t go to schlatt - and dream just gives him a long, sad look before lightly patting quackity’s shoulder and says “i can’t guarantee anything - just that you’ll be safe” and shooing him off and as quackity heads back to manberg he realises all the hostile mobs are avoiding him like the fucking plague.

it’s big q!!!! fattest ass in the cabinet!!!!! pog!!!

fun fact this chapter’s subtitle was almost “chekhov’s gun” until november fucking 16th of 2020

chap 17 tommy

subtitle: most disputes die and no one shoots

tommy learns how a legacy dies.

a compendium of tommy watching the madness consume wilbur. it needs to be emphasized in this chapter that wilbur becomes an entirely different person when they’re ejected from manberg, that he becomes obsessed with the legacy he’s created and watching it crumble is what twists him; when dream gives tommy his crossbow, tommy, out of desperation and a need to have an older sibling again, asks what’s wrong with wilbur; dream’s face hardens and he asks tommy to take dream to wilbur. it’s a terse meeting, the only one they have before techno and before wilbur completely loses it and demands the tnt; wilbur says a lot of things tommy doesn’t understand (it’s complex mythological jargon hinting at dream’s status as a god but could be misconstrued to refer to dream’s status as simply the world owner) and at one point wilbur sneers, “are you trying to play god, dream?” and dream lurches forward and grabs wilbur by the wrist, and there’s a completely silent moment where tommy feels the air suck out of his lungs and there’s an off buzzing in his ears and he fancies he hears something that sounds, just a bit, like dream, whispering desperately wilbur wilbur wilbur it’s me it’s me listen listen listen then a shrieking, acrid wave of no and tommy reels back and when he looks up dream has staggered back, his hand to his mouth, blood dripping from somewhere beneath his mask, sounding like he’s gagging or maybe he’s sobbing, as wilbur shrieks in a voice that is entirely not his “get out get out if i can’t have l’manberg...” and tommy understands, finally, as dream sprints out. that’s not wilbur.

a distinction needs to be made perfectly clear in this chapter, as with schlatt’s chapter: it’s not them. they’ve been twisted out of control by something bigger than them, something that wants to toy with the young god running an oasis of peace for his people. it doesn’t need to be outright said in this fic; in another we can delve into the madness and who did it and why. for now, just make it clear it’s not explicitly anyone’s fault.

chap 18 techno

subtitle: colosseum

dream had to let techno in first, you know.

techno and dream have interacted often - the duel, the championships, they’re friends more than acquaintances now. but techno was called in by someone wearing his brother’s face that he honestly doesn’t recognize from his voice and when he arrives at spawn, before tommy fetches him, he sees dream sitting cross legged waiting for him and they talk about the situation, dream giving techno a quick brief. when tommy comes, crying “techno, this way, this way to pogtopia”, and crossbow bolts are being fired at techno, dream gives him a lil wave goodbye (or what techno thinks is a lil wave goodbye but what actually turns out to be putting a swiftness effect on him).

“that’s not my brother, dream,” says techno, and dream’s mouth wobbles and he says, hoarse, “i know.”

techno Suspects, but only knows that dream has world-manipulating powers and thus standard minor god powers. he doesn’t let dream know he suspects.

chap 19 bad

subtitle: run devil run

bad trusts dream, perhaps against his better judgement.

dream comes to visit bad and skeppy on neutral grounds in the interim leading up to the festival that everyone on the server is side-eyeing and side-stepping. bad considers his friend and the owner of the world as he gives dream an impromptu tour through the escape route he and skeppy have dug out, wonders with a little reproach how dream could let things get to this point, then, soft, gentle as always, acknowledges that dream is only human kindly. when he says that, though, dream’s face crumples, as though those words hurt him more than any criticism bad’s given him in the time he’s known him, as though bad had driven a blade into his heart, and bad doesn’t understand but he lets dream run away from that. when a small flock of creepers explode over the tunnel the night before the festival and bad grumbles that he has to fix it, he learns dream left him with a fortified escape tunnel.

a/n: i’m sure the irony isn’t lost on you.

chap 20 tubbo

subtitle: cadmean victory

what say the sacrificial lamb?

tubbo is coming to terms with the fact that he might not make it out of office in one piece and it’s not his first time respawning but the older members of the server always, always did their best to shield the younger ones from death. he runs into dream by complete coincidence while he’s avoiding pogtopia (mostly wilbur) and manberg (mostly schlatt), caught between two strangers wearing his friends’ faces. he looks at dream, who looks back at him impassively, and tubbo starts to cry, because it finally hits him that even with his death and respawn nothing will be fixed, nothing can change, the poison’s run too deep into the veins of dream’s beautiful little world and now nothing can be right anymore and it feels like he’s shattering into tiny, aching shards - and then dream kneels before him, takes his hands, presses his forehead to them, sighs like his heart’s breaking, and tubbo feels a small calm thread back into him as dream stands abruptly, jittery. dream, with hands that shake, grips tubbo’s shoulder, hovers for a second, then his head jerks up and he bolts into the forest, clambering up a tree with admirable ease and disappearing away into the leaves as schlatt suddenly emerges from the bushes nearby with a joyous, plastic “hey! tubbo!”

chap 21 george

subtitle: lantern burns low

a moment in the night; george is visited by a specter.

dream comes, pale, and asks george if there is anything wrong, is everything okay with you? takes george’s caught-off-guard face in his hands and says george george george, are you - and george catches a glimpse of dream’s powers (is he safe safe does he hurt no but fear but anxiety there are dregs hush now quiet now he is safe all quiet quiet quiet he’s safe) and he says, stricken even as the constant thrum of nervous energy he’d kept with him fades out, “dream what was that,” and dream presses his hands to his mask where his eyes are and says, despairingly, “they don’t get to have you too,” and staggers back out.

george is the first person dream overtly “comes out” to. this is also why george doesn’t see dream til the festival.

chap 22 schlatt

subtitle: the empty throne

dream visits schlatt in his office.

schlatt, possessed by madness, has no idea what he’s saying but it feels right, it’s exactly right, everything is in his hands, and when dream approaches, his hands facing up, is he there is he there yes yes yes tainted polluted this is twisted this is madness madness madness dream reels back, shaking, and schlatt leans in and leers, not even knowing what he’s saying, “you can’t even fix it, young god,” and relishes the way all the color drains from dream’s face.

chap 23 dream (edit: this monster ended up being split into three for pacing purposes and also if i left it together it was gonna be. h. 14K WORDS. also the drama of a cliffhanger at what most people thought was going to be the last chapter was too good to pass up don’t @ me

subtitle: do you feel like a young god?

running, running, running again

finale!! dream takes everyone’s old hurts into himself, takes the madness from schlatt and wilbur, promptly passes the hell out because no one should be doing that, wakes up, gets the shit hugged out of him, and explains a little, and gets told that he’s loved over and over.

i uh! take questions! i like talking about this story, there’s a lot i still want to show, and even apart from that i just really love mcyt haha

#mcyt #young god #chrys writes #you're human tonight #yg meta #long post

12 notes · View notes

makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 253: That Good Angst

Previously on BnHA: The villain Ending, whose name in retrospect is hella melodramatic for a guy whose power is MAKING ROAD MARKINGS COME TO LIFE, kidnapped Natsuo and then deservedly got his ass kicked by three teenagers. Endeavor won the manga’s coveted Best Hug award, made up by me just now, and then gave one of the best monologues in the whole series, basically owning up to all his crimes and saying he doesn’t want or deserve his son’s forgiveness. And he didn’t get it either, which was excellent. Instead, he announced to his kids that he was building them a new home for them to go live in with their mother and without him. Meanwhile Katsuki was all, “btw I’ve decided on my new hero name,” and the ENTIRE FANDOM was all “!!!!” until he went on to say, “but I ain’t revealing SHIT until I’ve told it to Best Jeanist,” which caused everyone to collectively wince and awkwardly glance at each other wondering who’s going to break it to him. Uh.

Today on BnHA: hAHAHAHAHHA.

Sorry, I forgot to turn my capslock back off. Anyways, so we return to U.A. and everything is all “HAPPY NEW YEAR IIDA!” and “STILL ON ABOUT THAT UNREQUITED LOVE THING, HUH OCHAKO?” and “LOOKS LIKE THAT SCAMPISH IMP BAKUGOU IS AT IT AGAIN!” and all the usual stuff. We then have a complete switch of gears, and I seriously mean like the GEAR SWITCH TO END ALL GEAR SWITCHES, as we cut to Aizawa and Mic driving to Tartarus! Why are they driving to Tartarus you ask? Well it’s because they got a call from Naomasa and he was all “hey, so you know your deceased childhood friend from chapters 59 through 65 of Vigilantes? Well IT TURNS OUT I HAVE A FUNNY STORY ABOUT THAT.” Anyway so the rest of this chapter can basically be summed up as (1) LOL SO KUROGIRI WAS REALLY SHIRAKUMO ALL ALONG, and (2) AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

btw the whole reason I spoiled myself in the first place was because my dumbass id was all “WE SHOULD CHECK IF THEY MENTION THE HERO NAME” and I was like “YES” and just immediately lost all self-control. like it wasn’t an accidental click or anything; I was fully aware of what I was doing. lord knows what I would have done if I actually had been spoiled about the hero name lol. that would have been so much worse than the spoiler I actually got, so yeah. just stupid decisions all around. anyways how are you

no BnHA thumbnails on the Mangastream homepage today. must mean Kacchan didn’t make any good faces. ah well

lmao the chapter is literally titled “Shirakumo.” well I guess I wasn’t spoiled much after all. I did catch a half-glimpse (I was trying not to look; like, I had my fingers covering my eyes and was peeking through them. again, I’m not really sure what I was trying to accomplish in the first place honestly) of what seemed to be Aizawa with a shocked expression on his face though, so that’s why I was so convinced Kumo was somehow coming back from the dead or something. WE SHALL SEE

MY FORMULA 1 SON!!

lol I’m having one of those Berenstein moments. like. he didn’t always have those huge exhaust pipes running out from his sides and from either leg, right? those are just for this cover. or else something new and fancy he just added to his suit. right??

anyway so yes, Iida is the color page this week, just as we all expected from a chapter titled “Shirakumo”

“WINTER BREAK WAS OVER IN A FLASH” oh man. ain’t that always the way

wow I’ve really missed U.A. like, we’re cutting to these panels of USJ and the stadium, and it’s so fucking nostalgic geez. we weren’t even gone that long

Deku’s voiceover is talking about how they only have three months left in their “tumultuous” first year. ha. tumultuous. if Deku hadn’t met up with All Might, he could have easily fallen back on a career in PR; he’s got a gift for phrasing things diplomatically

Iida is wishing everyone a happy new year! happy new year Iida!!

he’s announcing that their class will be an action report meeting, which apparently means everyone’s gonna share what they learned over the winter break

but now he’s telling everyone to come down to Field Alpha, which Mangastream annoyingly spelled out with the Greek symbol α, forcing me to look it up because I’m sorry but I don’t speak math. ?? like what is this

now Aizawa’s sliding the door open all CRANKY because he’s MISSING HIS NAP

but Mina is all smooth like,

Mina could also have had a promising future in PR. well it’ll still serve them well in their hero careers too

oh my lord

WHAT is that FACE, Iida. just what. is that an eyebrow waggle. what the fuck. he looks like the next words out of his mouth were going to be “sliding into people’s dms”

jokes’s on you Horikoshi!! you think a panel like this will stop my “stupid sexy Iida” jokes? IT ONLY MAKES ME LOVE HIM MORE

oh? someone on the loudspeaker is calling Aizawa and summoning him to the faculty room. I wonder what this could be about. probably nothing!

now we’re cutting to the changing room and the girls are admiring Ochako’s new costume!

I’ll add an ETA later where I actually analyze the changes in her costume. right now let’s just pretend like I’m aware of what actually changed. I swear I pay attention to things. by the way, why would the suitcase get heavy? her quirk can be applied to anything can’t it?

(ETA: so the costume changes are (1) an upgrade to her gauntlets, and (2) an upgrade to her headset. so anyway that’s pretty cool, even if it was really only brought up in this chapter so that we could get that SWEET YA ROMANCE DRAMA. which I know annoys some people, but at this point I feel like Horikoshi only throws it in because he’s expected to, and the way he does it is so adorably reluctant that I can’t help but enjoy it at this point lol.)

OH MY GOD

OCHAKO YOU KEPT DEKU’S CHRISTMAS PRESENT TO YOU IN YOUR HERO COSTUME FOR GOOD LUCK, OH MY GOD. (1) YOU ARE THE LITERAL CUTEST, (2) IT’S TIMES LIKE THIS I’M GLAD I SHIP BASICALLY EVERYTHING BECAUSE THIS IS A DELIGHT, and (3) MINA’S REACTION TO THIS IS ABOUT TO BE MY FAVORITE THING OF ALL TIME, SO LET’S COUNT DOWN TO IT IN 3... 2...

okay but before we click to the next page, I just need to draw everyone’s attention to the background of that Jirou panel, where I’m pretty sure that is Ochako acquiring Hagakure’s quirk in a moment of transcendent desperation, much like how parents are able to summon incredible strength in times of crisis to lift cars off of their trapped children and shit. we are witnessing the next stage of human evolution over here

-- oh fuck me

hello, Horikoshi? yes, this was supposed to be a cute moment of teens being teens and giggling over high school crushes. did you not get the memo. what are you doing here with this sucker punch of feels right to my fucking kidneys. why would you do that. why does this panel of Ochako make me want to fucking cry, I did not ask for this

(ETA: but like also, you see how he just instantly drops the subject less than a panel later lol. like “THERE’S YOUR ROMANCE PLOT, OKAY?? NOW BACK TO THE REANIMATED BRAINWASHED CHILDHOOD FRIENDS ARC.”)

meanwhile in the boy’s locker room! so apparently word has spread about Deku mastering Bloopwhip!

so Ojiro is evidently fucking ripped under that karate gi. Ojiro, this one corner of a panel with you facing away from the screen is possibly the most interesting thing you’ve ever done. have you considered what a costume change might do for your image. I’m just saying

lmao Deku

I have never in my life found the idea of Villain Deku even remotely convincing until this exact moment. jesus christ. Deku are you sure there isn’t a little piece of AFO horcrux soul in you right at this moment. just wondering. if it was Kaminari doing this, the headline for this chapter would be “KAMINARI 100% CONFIRMED THE TRAITOR” and even I would find myself hard-pressed to argue at this point

anyway, the hero we deserve is stepping in to bring him back to reality sob

(ETA: I’m not even going to check the bnha tag to see if there is discourse about this, because I already know!! because clearly this is a very serious panel which should be taken 100% seriously!! anyway I’m not even going to go here lol.)

it’s okay kids I’m already dialing 911. Kacchan, honey, come here. listen, we need to put you in a time out. I love you but you can’t just go around throwing your spiky headgear at people like a fucking tomahawk, and also what the fuck is that thing even made of jesus christ

sob is Deku actually fucking dead

and so, while the girls were having cute shoujo drama about a romantic All Might plush, over in the boy’s locker room an actual murder was going down

FSDKDJL

I can’t. stop laughing. I

and the way they’re all just staring at him and clearly have no idea what to fucking do at this point. “so should we just... leave it in, then?” lmao Horikoshi what the fuck kind of substance did you ingest before you went and drew this. I need me some of that

(ETA: and now that I’ve mostly stopped laughing, I would also just like to point out that he is essentially saying “I just had to stop thinking so hard about it and just do it”, which I’ve only been saying SINCE FOREVER, DEKU, but sure go ahead and don’t listen to me then!)

ALL MIGHT IS...

WHY, YOU ASK? WHO CARES!!

lol apparently it’s a pun. someone go over there and check to make sure this All Might isn’t actually a bunch of Mirios hidden underneath a trench coat

anyway so they’re completely unimpressed, because they’re all jaded fucking teenagers with no souls, and they’re asking where Aizawa is

is this the part where we slide right back into the angst after our brief humorous interlude with the kiddos. because I am ready. bring it

OOOOH HERE WE GO, LOOK AT THIS TENSION

SO HERE WE HAVE MIC ACTUALLY TELLING AIZAWA TO SHUT THE FUCK UP, AND IT’S CONFIRMED, THE WORLD IS ENDING

and look at Aizawa’s body language. arms crossed, fingers tapping anxiously, gritting his teeth. fucking Mic has to tell him to calm down. jesus christ. anyway so Aizawa angst is apparently MY DRUG you guys, and Horikoshi you can go right ahead and INJECT THAT SHIT STRAIGHT INTO MY VEINS

AHHHHHHH

OHHHHHH THAT’S GOOD. I might need someone to come and slap me in the face in another minute just to make sure I can continue here

-- HOLD UP, WHAT

THAT SOUND YOU HEAR IS THE SOUND OF MY MENTAL BRAKES SCREECHING TO A FUCKING HALT, EVERYONE HOLD THE FUCK UP WHILE I DO A QUICK MENTAL ROLL CALL OF THE VILLAIN CAST AT USJ. FUCK ME, PLEASE TELL ME HE WASN’T THE NOUMU. BUT ASIDE FROM HIM AND TOMURA, AND THE FACELESS NO-NAME VILLAINS, THAT ONLY LEAVES... OKAY MY BRAIN JUST SERIOUSLY FROZE UP WHILE PROCESSING THIS, BECAUSE NO FUCKING WAY

fuck me fuck me FUCK ME

there is no fucking way it can really be Kurogiri, can it?? Kumo didn’t have a portal quirk. but All For One, though?? but no wait because we know he didn’t have that quirk because he had to use the other teleportation one instead. John’s or whoever’s

so then the only other option is the Noumu. could this be the start of the Noumu arc at long last?! oh my godddddd I’m about to get up out of my seat and just jump around for a second to get all my nerves out. ahhhhhhh

Horikoshi knew full well what he was doing titling the chapter “Shirakumo” and then teasing us with this incredibly tense buildup, too. I have actual fucking chills

oh my god IT REALLY IS THE NOUMU ISN’T IT

I HATE AND LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SIMULTANEOUSLY, IT IS THE WEIRDEST FEELING. IT’S BOTH INVIGORATING AND TERRIFYING HOLY SHIT

I WANTED THIS. I KNEW IT WAS GONNA BE DARK. I WANTED IT SO BAD AND I COULDN’T WAIT FOR IT AND NOW IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING AND WHAT A FUCKING WAY TO KICK IT OFF I JUST!!!

AHHHHH

DON’T MIND ME PLEASE CONTINUE AND IGNORE ALL OF MY SILENT SCREAMING!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AIZAWA IS ABOUT TO LOSE HIS FUCKING MIND. HIS CLOSEST FRIEND WAS DESECRATED AND VIOLATED IN AN UNIMAGINABLE WAY AND TRANSFORMED INTO SOMETHING UNRECOGNIZABLE WITH ALL TRACES OF HUMANITY LOST, AND THIS WHOLE TIME HE THOUGHT HE WAS FUCKING DEAD. THEY DON’T EVEN HAVE A THERAPY FOR THAT, PEOPLE. THAT IS THE KIND OF ANGST THERE’S NO COMING BACK FROM

ANYWAY, SO THERE’S THAT SHOCKED AIZAWA FACE I CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF YESTERDAY, NOW WITH HORRIFIC CONTEXT, AND IF ANYONE NEEDS ME I’LL JUST BE HERE IN THE CORNER SETTING MY KEYBOARD TO PERMANENT CAPSLOCK, AND UPDATING MY SEXUAL ORIENTATION TO “THE FUCKED-UP AIZAWA ANGST IN THIS CHAPTER” BECAUSE THAT’S APPARENTLY WHAT IT IS AND ALL THIS TIME I NEVER KNEW

OH GODDDDD

BRB UPDATING MY ORIENTATION AGAIN TO “MIC’S COMFORTING HAND ON AIZAWA’S SHOULDER AS AIZAWA STRUGGLES TO HOLD ON TO THE LAST OF HIS COMPOSURE WHILE TRYING AND FAILING TO PROCESS THIS UNFATHOMABLY HEINOUS THING THAT’S ABOUT TO BE REVEALED”

(ETA: and also!! the fact that either Mic’s hand is shaking, or Aizawa is shaking so badly that it’s affecting Mic’s hand on his shoulder too! either way how the hell am I not literally dead after reading this chapter, I don’t even know.)

WAIT WHAT!!!!

THE CORE?! SO WAIT, IS IT KUROGIRI THEN??? OR WHAT?!

(ETA: I know I’m just inserting random commentary all over the place at this point, but like, can we also talk about how Naomasa looks like he hasn’t slept in eleven years?? this is taking such a toll on his soul here and it’s heartbreaking.)

OH MY GOD!!!!!

I WISH I COULD BETTER DESCRIBE THIS FEELING BECAUSE IT’S REALLY SOMETHING!! I’M SO EXCITED AND AT THE SAME TIME FULLY AWARE OF HOW I’M DELIGHTING IN THE PAIN OF THESE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS, SO IT’S LIKE THIS GUILTY SADISTIC GLEE AND AT THE SAME TIME SHOCK AND EXCITEMENT AND DAMN NEAR A KIND OF ELATION AT BEING FULLY TAKEN FOR A RIDE BY THIS EPIC FUCKING TWIST. IT’S GOOD SHIT

SDLKFJASLKDFJ;LKS

(ETA: so if they can trace quirk factors like this, they should be able to do it with the other Noumu they have in captivity, and also with any dead Noumus they’ve collected as well, yes? including the one that Stain killed a few months back? like, don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here trying to calculate the Six Degrees of Bakuangst for this plotline seeing as my brain, as ever, is focused on one thing and one thing only.

and so if they have managed to ID some of the Noumus, would that info maybe be on the Hero Network? meaning Endeavor would have access? would the interns then have access too? or if not, is his password something easily guessable, like Shouto’s birthday or something? will I ever stop running out of hypothetical scenarios along these lines? doesn’t seem likely as of now.)

“SEVERAL DIFFERENT QUIRK FACTORS” HOLY SHIT, AFO. THAT MANIAC. THIS WHOLE TIME MY RESPECTED DOCTOR OF MEDICINE WAS REALLY A HIGH SCHOOL DROPOUT WHO GOT CONKED ON THE HEAD BY SOME FALLING ROCKS ONE DAY. THE GRANDDADDY OF ALL TWISTS!! THIS TWIST WAS CONCEIVED IN THE BOOK OF GENESIS!!

AND BY THE WAY, THANK YOU AGAIN TO THAT ANON, BECAUSE HOLY SHIT THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT IS FUCKING RAW. ONCE I FINALLY COME DOWN FROM THIS BIZARRE HIGH I’M GOING TO CRY FOR AIZAWA BECAUSE HE IS HURTING SO BAD RIGHT NOW AND I CAN’T EVEN, SOMEONE SAVE HIMMMM

WELL FOLKS. THERE IT IS. HORIKOSHI FINALLY HOOKING US UP WITH THAT GOOD ANGST. THE PLOT THAT WAS PROMISED. THE ANGST THAT WAS AVOWED. YOU GUYS I CAN’T BELIEVE AIZAWA SHOUTA WAS SHIGARAKI TOMURA’S FUCKING UNCLE THIS WHOLE FUCKING TIME. HOLY SHIT

AND YOOOO I JUST HAD A BUNCH OF THOUGHTS THAT I CAN BARELY EVEN PROCESS RIGHT NOW BECAUSE THIS REVELATION OPENS UP SO MANY NEW DOORS NOW ALL OF A SUDDEN THOUGH. BUT LIKE, IF AFO AND UJIKO WERE IN THE BUSINESS OF TAKING CHILDREN’S CORPSES AND REVIVING THEM AND INFUSING THEM WITH UPGRADED QUIRKS AND NO MEMORIES OF THEIR PRIOR LIVES, THEN HOLY FUCKING SHIT, WHAT IF A CERTAIN TODOROKI SIBLING REALLY DID FUCKING DIE AND HAS ACTUALLY BEEN A PUPPET OF AFO’S THIS ENTIRE TIME OH MY GOD. THIS CHAPTER IS JUST!!!

(ETA: yeah I actually have a lot of thinking to do about this one, because holy shit. I mean there must be a reason we’re getting this reveal directly on the heels of the Todoangst Arc with all of its talk about Touya and how dead he is, right? god I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all. this stupid manga!!)

AND AIZAWA’S FACE. THE WAY HE’S COVERING HIS MOUTH AS THOUGH TRYING TO KEEP HIMSELF FROM BEING SICK. THE MAN WHO PRIDES HIMSELF ON HIS RATIONALITY IS SO COMPLETELY OVERWHELMED BY EMOTION THAT HE’S STRUGGLING TO KEEP IT TOGETHER. THIS IS THE DEFINING WOUND OF HIS CHILDHOOD, RETURNING ALL OF A SUDDEN TO STAB HIM RIGHT IN THE HEART ALL OVER AGAIN WITH A FRESH NEW KIND OF HORROR. MIC, YOU’D BETTER BE THERE FOR HIM AFTER THIS, BECAUSE HE’S GOING TO FUCKING BREAK DOWN IN THE CAR ON THE RIDE HOME OR SOMETHING PROBABLY, AND HE NEEDS YOU, AND YOU PROBABLY NEED HIM TOO, AND FUCK

I DON’T HAVE SPACE FOR ALL THIS ANGST IN MY HOUSE!!! BUT LIKE HELL AM I GIVING ANY OF IT BACK, IT’S MINE NOW AND I’M KEEPING IT!! I WILL FUCKING RENT OUT A STORAGE LOCKER FOR THE EXCESS!! I WILL HOARD IT ALL LIKE A GREEDY DRAGON IN MY CAVE. THIS ANGST IS MY CHILD NOW. FUCKING SUBSCRIBED, GOOD NIGHT EVERYONE

#bnha 253 #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #shirakumo oboro #kurogiri #uraraka ochako #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #and here's another thought I just had #which is that we were basically one momo away from potentially playing out this exact same plot twist #but with deku and kacchan instead #because the league would not have taken no for an answer #and even if tomura had felt like being merciful #(since he clearly has more humanity left in him than I formerly gave him credit for)#I guarantee you that afo would have stepped in at some point and been all #'you know what tomura why don't you let me see if I can help convince him'#like every now and then I just randomly think about how close my child came to experiencing an unimaginably dark fate #and I'm just like #deep sigh of relief #but oh the angst #this is the fuel that sustains me friends

159 notes · View notes

wordsinwinters · 5 years

Text

Then Again, Part 25 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Total word count: 47,470

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 26,

Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs.

Betas: @girl-tips-from-satan and @fanboyswhereare-you

Without further ado,

Then Again Part 25:

(Words: 3,948)

“It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

The thought of Peter making more of an effort, of him consciously choosing to pay me closer attention with the active intention of improving our friendship-- it isn’t the worst idea. If anything, it’s a rather attractive solution to a nonexistent problem. The suggestion alone is already prompting imaginary scenarios I refuse to acknowledge right now; though, inevitably, they’ll become daydream fuel within a couple days. Still, the whole plan is unnecessary, and I know it. I’m not angry with him anymore. I may have a few questions (some I plan on asking, some I’ll keep to myself), but if I do have any hidden resentment for his behavior stowed away in my subconscious, it’s as small and inconsequential as a handful of sand in the sea. Allowing him to carry this plan out would be using him. The pretenses would be false.

Even apart from that, though, his texts gave off an odd, metallic aftertaste. The proposal reads mechanically-- it’s a scientific study with a simple hypothesis (and a reluctant dependent variable). It’s the idea of being a lab mouse, I think, that earns it the title the dumbest thing in my mind. It’s condescending. Even if tempting.

Then again, I know Peter. I understand he doesn’t actually view me as a test subject to analyze and discard after the results come in. We’re friends. He feels bad and tossed out a poorly worded solution because he thinks I’m secretly pissed at him. It’s only an idea he offered, one I have full power to reject.

Maybe I’m trying to dismiss it quickly because, if I’m being honest, I’m selfish. Selfishly, I want to say yes despite knowing the sort of negative message it would send to Peter. A small part of me is willing to let him feel worse so I can pretend his own guilty feelings are more significant than they really are. The possibility, the mirage just within reach, of balancing that tightrope between reality and fantasy with him is... alluring, to say the least.

And impossible. It would be wrong. Wouldn’t it? Of course it would be.

Like blades slicing fruit in a blender, my brain whips through these thoughts within seconds. Across on her bed, Michelle’s expression can only be described as disapproving or faintly disgusted as she too digests Peter’s idea. It’s the male stupidity is endless look we share when near particularly annoying men in public. It’s not often one we have to exchange in reference to the boys; their moronic moments tend to be entertaining rather than obnoxious, ignorant, or misogynistic.

She meets my eyes, and I wonder if my face gives anything away.

“That feels weird to me.”

The sentence is a verbal tiptoe forward, an almost-question probe.

“It did sound weird saying it out loud,” I agree.

“You know,” she says, her tone mildly serious as she sits up straighter. “You’re not obligated to say yes to everything because you don’t want to disappoint someone. Especially a boy. And especially if he’s trying to fix his dumb mistakes by pressuring you into something you’re not comfortable with.” She pauses, glancing at the ceiling and raising an eyebrow. “If you want, I can make him come to his senses.”

Michelle tightens her fists and mimes three exaggerated punches. I imagine it, amused: Before the bite, Peter wouldn’t have stood a chance against her if she really meant it; now, he’d probably put his arms up to block her blows, minimally annoyed, and wait for her to tire herself out. I roll my eyes and can’t help mirroring her smile.

Nevertheless, her wording is….

The same question pops up for the millionth time.

Do I want her to know?

“It’s Peter, it’s not, like, ‘a boy,’” I say first, air quoting the last words. Maybe later, depending. But for now, I’ll avoid it. “And I’ll pass, but I appreciate the offer. I’m not uncomfortable and he isn’t being pushy or anything. I only meant that the…” nearly impersonal approach to our personal relationship? “the hyperconscious wording is weird. I wouldn’t turn down free snacks if the offer wasn’t described as a….” situation in which he views us as mere associates or abstract friends--

Again, I remind myself he probably doesn’t see it that way.

“Monitored social experiment with unequal power dynamics?” she offers.

That fits.

“Precisely.”

She snorts. Shaking her head, Michelle pauses for a few more seconds. Mentally chewing it all over again, her expression bounces from annoyance to curiosity to neutrality to annoyance again to what looks surprisingly close to compromise or understanding. In the meantime, I focus on watching her facial journey and not thinking.

In the tune of surrender, she sighs before she speaks.

“I’m sure he’s trying his best,” she says reluctantly, her hands opening outward like a shrug, “his best is just bad. If it were anyone else, I’d tell you to refuse and block them. But, as much as it pains me to admit, I think we both know him too well to think his motives are as stupid as his phrasing. If anything, he’s probably excited about his ‘new genius friendship plan.’”

Nodding, relief hums under my skin: I know she’s right. I mean, how many people would fight crime to protect countless strangers in their city, then turn around and have cold, detached views of their chosen, personal friends?

“That’s true,” I say. “I should probably text him back, then.”

She holds up a finger as I reach for my phone.

“Still,” she adds with a tone of subtle authority, “it’s up to you. I’m not saying you should say yes -- no obligations, remember? -- I just don’t think you need to worry that he isn’t trying or isn’t being genuine. That’s all.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Michelle’s stare lasts a moment longer, her sincerity as visible and certain as the brown of her eyes. After a second or two, she sits back onto her pillows and relaxes, turning to face the t.v. once again, leaving me to work out my final decision on my own. As I allow myself to reiterate my own arguments in my head, the Cullen family discusses the mythology of half human, half vampire fetuses with Jacob.

It doesn’t take me long to reach a conclusion. Maybe it’s because I’m pretty tired, but the answer seems obvious, straightforward and simple in logic. I unlock my phone with the feeling Michelle knows exactly what I’m about to type. I begin to write the message I had settled on before: “I’ll think about it.” Simple and honest. And temporary.

But then something else pops into my brain, and, foolishly, I write that instead.

“What about you? Do you need new reasons to be around me?”

I send the text without a moment’s reflection. Rereading it, it sounds a little… coded, to say the least. Like a Freudian slip. Don’t overthink it. God, I hate Freud. But it does sound desperate. And awkward. Damn. It definitely does. It reminds me of the embarrassing things I used to post on social media in middle school, which I really shouldn’t think about either.

I only wondered if the idea should go both ways. Instead, the message sounds insecure... which I am, I suppose, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Bubbles appear on his side. I resist the urge to send a series of backpedaling messages. They disappear. Again. My self control dissipates and I quickly send the original one: I’ll think about it.

Unthinking, I pull the small keychain out of my pocket as I wait for his reply and massage the edge. Sticking the pointed corner into my thumbpad, I accidentally dig it in harder than intended. And I realize something.

The keychain was the first. The gifts or incentives or things.

A flat click of a nearby door closing snaps my attention. The boys’ room? Glancing up, I see flash of Edward pleading with Jacob on the t.v. screen, and to my left, a shadow stepping up to the door. A gap in the golden line of outside light.

For half a minute, nothing happens. Aside from Rosalie shouldering past Jacob as he walks in to speak to Bella. After that, when it does come, the sound is soft.

Knock. Knock knock knock knock, knock knock.

It’s Peter. Ned’s knocking pattern is shorter.

The sound jolts my heart rate a smidge, like a phantom defibrillator.

Michelle’s head rolls to one side to stare at the hallway, her shoulders slumped in an I’m giving up posture.

“That’s very obviously for you,” she says, pushing herself up and tossing the Twizzler bag on the nightstand, “so I’ll let you go deal with it. I think I’ll brush my teeth and get ready for bed.” She hops off the mattress, raises her arms, and stretches them from side to side. “You okay if we call it a night?”

“More than okay,” I say, standing up as well, the carpet cool under my toes. Once I speak to Peter, I’ll need to knock out. Otherwise my brain will spiral. And maybe, if all goes well, my dreams tonight will be better than staying up to snicker at this hilariously shitty movie. “But what if it is for you?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Tell them I’m gone. Missing, dead, whatever.” Michelle clamps her eyes shut and sticks her tongue out to mimic cartoonish death. Then she pops back to life with a fake warning glare. “So long as no one bothers me.”

She hits the off button on the remote, Jacob and Bella dissolving into nothing, and as she trudges to the bathroom, I slip the keychain and a keycard back into my pocket before copying her arm stretch to calm my buzzing nerves. Michelle salutes me before turning and closing the bathroom door. I walk to the hallway’s. The handle is cold to the touch.

I swing it open. As expected: Peter. The empty space surrounding him is relatively quiet, only muffled laughter and television sounds coming from rooms at the opposite end. The air smells like linens, cleaning supplies, and artificial lavender. This too is as expected: the typical, sanitary comfort of staying in a nice hotel at night. I tell myself it’s a calming environment.

Peter’s in his usual pajamas, an old beat up t-shirt and sweatpants, standing slightly to the left, hands clasped in front of him. His height drops a tiny bit at the sound of the door, like he was rocking from heel to toe a second ago, and as his eyes lift from the floor to meet mine, he smiles. A warm swooping sensation envelops my stomach.

“Hey! You answered.”

He almost sounds surprised. I make a face in response.

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

I mean this as a joke, a reference to the couple late nights he’s shown up at my door (window, really) to clean or patch himself up before going home. As he knows, I’m not in the habit of shutting him out.

Still, his head tilts and his eyebrows go up into an expression of, Well, you weren’t exactly answering me before. It isn’t a challenging or upset look. If anything, it’s almost flustered.

“Fair enough,” I concede, lukewarm guilt sticking in my throat. “I was thinking about it though, I promise, I just hadn’t decided for sure yet.”

He nods, fidgeting with his fingernails and momentarily glancing at the floor.

“Yeah, I get that,” he says, looking back up. His ears redden. “I, uh, phrased it pretty moronically. Or at least that’s what Ned said.”

He takes a step or two back, closer to his door. It seems like an invitation to make the conversation more private, so I close mine and Michelle’s and step forward.

“All I meant,” he continues, his hands rolling over one another in gesture, “was that I thought it might be helpful if I did a few nice things for you when we get back. Not like I’m actually trying to condition you, like a, like a--”

“Dog?”

His hands halt and his face pinches into an expression that practically reads I am painfully aware of every mistake I have ever made and how the number continues to grow in marker across his forehead. His eyes retain a lightness though, the sort that suggests he’s able to laugh about it. He runs his right hand through his hair. Mine twinges.

“Exactly. I feel like that makes it seem kind of, um--”

“Bad?”

“Very bad,” he confirms, nodding. He takes a deeper breath, half smiling in an embarrassed, self pitying way. “I honestly forgot about that Pavlock stuff, I was just trying to use psych terms to make it sound more persuasive and, um, I don’t know, impressive?”

He shrugs and offers an I know I’m an idiot, but thank you for being patient smile. I bite my tongue against correcting Pavlov, which he seems incapable of pronouncing properly. Even when we studied for that exam, he only said it properly a handful of times, despite Michelle flicking bits of paper at him each time he said Pavlock.

I smile too, noting the irony. And I think of what she said: he’s trying his best, his best is just bad. It doesn’t seem so bad when he’s standing in front of me, though. If anything, it’s easy.

“You mean,” I begin to ask, more to tease than to clarify, “as opposed to the highly offensive and disagreeable, ‘Hey, I want to make up for being a jerk, so I’m going to stash some snacks for you in my locker’?”

He bites his lip as if it’ll keep his grin pinned down, though it doesn’t really. A blush spreads across his cheekbones and for a split second, he looks away to the other end of the hall. When he looks back, his smile falters, just a little. The vulnerability reminds me of his apology last night, when he thought I was sleeping.

“I was thinking maybe it’d be more than snacks?” he offers. “Like, I don’t know, I don’t really have it figured out yet, but hanging out a bit more? Movie nights or that sort of thing? Or if you have a lot of homework, we could study together and help each other stay focused?”

That last suggestion seems like an oxymoron. Study together to keep ourselves on track? It’s a laughable concept. Well, only if it’s--

“Just us?”

Peter freezes, his shoulders straightening slightly, his height rising a few millimeters.

That is the central question, though. Whether it’s a positive or negative point toward my decision, I can’t tell. All the same, it’s been ages since we last tried studying together, just the two of us. It works best with Michelle and Ned there as well, seeing as we tend to get distracted.

His eyes move quickly between mine as if he’s trying to read my thoughts before answering. He squints.

“Is that okay?” he asks, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “I understand if not, if it’s uncomfortable or--”

I shake my head, putting my hand on his arm to stop him, only realizing it when his eyes flicker to that hand.

“Of course not,” I say, removing it. “I mean, of course it’s okay. We’ve hung out without Ned and MJ tons of times before. It’s been a while but it’s no big deal. That’d be fine.”

“Okay, good!” he says, the tension in his body evaporating. “That’s great!”

His eyes have lit up. I imagine he’s relieved those two won’t be around the whole time to make fun of his movie choices or whatever he has planned. I try to hold a smile to reassure him and clear his doubts while internally pinching myself to remember to not think too much on this. There’s no need to dust off those old, useless daydreams of movie nights and falling asleep on his shoulder with his head atop mine and May lightly laying a blanket across us and all the rest. Absolutely no need. Shut it down.

He runs a hand through his hair, nodding in a way that’s usually accompanied by him saying cool, cool, cool, cool.

“Would Fridays be good for movie nights?”

I barely register the question before I answer it.

“Probably, sure. That should be alright.”

His smile widens and he shakes his head once and continues nodding.

“Perfect! We can have it at my place.”

I nod back, chest tightening as I process. At the same time, I beg my brain not to process. Just for a minute. But then, since I refuse to let them move forward, the gears in my head turn backward, thoughts reeling like a bicycle chain. Judging by the look on Peter’s face, we’re realizing the same thing:

“Wait,” he says carefully. “So you’re saying yes? Like, you’re cool with it? You want to try?”

God help me.

“I suppose so,” I say. At hearing my own answer, a different type of swooping feeling runs from my feet up. The looking over a high balcony type.

“And we’ll figure the rest out later?” he asks.

“Peter, really, if you’re still planning on the locker snacks, that’s more than enough.”

He laughs.

“Yeah, that’s what you think because you’re being lame. And limiting. And--”

“Leaving?”

It’s time, definitely. I’d forgotten how blinding Peter’s excitement and positivity can be without interference. Today has been full enough, I should end this now.

“That’s fair,” he says. “I think Ned rubbed off on me. All that obnoxious energy.”

He shakes his whole body as if ridding himself of said energy and I restrain myself from making a joke about his word choice. Instead, I nod and with an exasperated “Night, Peter,” and step back toward my room. He does the same, heading toward his. Just before he makes to use his keycard, he pivots back.

“Wait! I almost forgot.”

I turn around and he’s closer than before. Peter suddenly looks particularly nervous, his head angled to the side like a question, his hands fumbling over themselves. His cheeks are reddening again too, spreading from his cheeks to his hairline.

“Yeah?”

He steps forward to place himself directly in front of me. His eyes flit a quick path which his hands follow-- they reach out to touch my elbows before jumping up to my shoulders, settling there almost steadily before shooting a little higher to suddenly but gently hold my head. And then he leans over and firmly kisses my forehead. As he pulls away, one hand disappears and the other musses up my hair.

What is he--?

We both take a tiny step back. My pulse pounds as my thoughts blur into nothing but impressions of nonsensical, ridiculous questions my brain won’t dignify with clarity. Peter’s expression is halfway between an apology and.. a dare? His eyes are as wide as I know mine must be, but there’s something playing at his lips. For a second, it feels as though we’re balanced on a challenge neither of us is willing to answer.

The bubble of the moment pops as he shakes his head and gestures vaguely to his and Ned’s room, his floundering arm movements returning him to the strong appearance of embarrassment.

“May,” he blurts, “Aunt May threatened to, uh, um, well, that part’s not really important, if I didn’t pass that along with ‘all her love.’” The red in his face deepens. “Apparently she’s not too happy I didn’t do that last night too.”

Of course. It makes immediate sense. The memory rushes back. She told him to do that to all of us when she dropped us off at the bus that morning. I might laugh at my own stupid shock and poor memory but I can’t seem to manage it.

“Do you want me to get MJ too?” I ask, realizing May likely demanded that he make the rounds. Maybe this is what started that play fight between him and Ned tonight. Either Ned dodged it or made a joke about wishing May were there to do it herself.

It clicks together.

“What?” He looks lost, his head tilted to the side, brow knotted up. “What do you mean?”

“Unless, do you want me to pass it along from May?”

The realization hits across his face. He shakes his head rapidly.

“No, no, no, she’d probably kill me if I tried to do that to her. But, I mean, if you want to pass it along-- or just tell her to lie if May asks. She probably won’t, honestly, but, you know, just in case.”

His shrug and half smile are practically helpless. May ought to have more mercy on him. And me.

“Alright.” A grin breaks over my face in a way I don’t quite understand and can’t stop. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“Right. Goodnight, then. See you in the morning.”

“Night, Peter.”

Rather than stepping back, as intended though, I rush forward. Involuntarily, or at least I’ll pretend, since it’s just as surprising to me as it is to him, I lean forward and kiss his cheek. Or try to. It happens too quickly to register fully, but I’m almost positive I knick the corner of his mouth? That would definitely be unintentional.

“ThatwasforMay,” I explain, stumbling backward. Seeming to sense it, Peter grabs my arm to steady me before I trip outright. He releases his grip and stares, stunned.

If I thought his eyes were wide earlier, it turns out they can open much wider. His pupils are comically blown open.

“What?” he asks, seeming concerned. “What was that? I, uh, I didn’t catch what you said.”

“That was, um, that was for May. You know, in exchange.”

That’s perfect. For the first time in a while, my brain saves me.

His face, though still flushed red, relaxes.

“You’ll see her tomorrow,” he points out. “Like, we’ll all see her at the same time. It’d be kind of pointless to pass that on, wouldn’t it?”

Shit. My brain is useless.

“Then, uh… keep it?”

His facial muscles twitch as if he’s glitching between a smile and bewilderment. Then a flint of mischief.

“Unless,” he says slowly, “you want me to pass it along to Ned?”

“And it’s official,” I say, resisting the urge to smack him. “Goodnight!”

He grins as near as he ever gets to a smirk (a term I associate too closely to ass-hattery to assign to him) and I turn to my room as he repeats it back.

We both step to our doors and open them. I glance back just in time to see him practically jump into his room with a speed that reminds me he’s a superhero, even if he’s an idiot. Filled with tangled emotions, I pause, listening or waiting or catching my breath. I only need a moment.

Behind his and Ned’s door, there’s a sudden crash, a sound like leaping bedsprings and something smashing, immediately followed by Peter groaning and Ned’s mocking laughter. Right before I go to my own room, I hear Peter’s exasperated voice: Shit! Dude, can you help me fix it?

The room is dark when I slip back inside but the alarm clock shines enough red to see vague outlines of the walls and dressers and beds. Legs slightly numb, I stumble my way to the small bathroom to get ready for bed. It only takes a couple minutes, distracted as I am.

I slip into the blankets of my bed. The warm body heat next to me can only mean one thing: Michelle.

It’s just one of those unspoken things.

Next update: God only knows.

Tag List: If you’d like to be tagged, send me a(n) ask/message or reply* to this post!

*Notice: If you reply, I may not respond back; if you need/want confirmation, send me an ask/message instead :) Also, there are a few blogs whose tags aren’t working and I haven’t been able to contact them. For the time being, I removed most of the dead tags. If you weren’t tagged and should have been, or if you’ve changed your url, send me a quick message and I’ll put you on my message list!

Tagged: (If I’m missing anyone, send me a message!) @spideymood @solarspidey @tiffanypooh @carrotsunshine @breebree1198 @idontlooklikereginageorge @stumb1ing @bit-bot0711 @justthatshortlittlenerd @avzuzu @melonmochi @happysynonym @the-redthread @i-love-superhero @ohgloryyy-blog @nicunty @pxrrished @shugr12110629 @realitykilledtheteen @thehanneloner @lionfart @tryn25 @slythergirlimagines @twentyjuanpancakes @hollandorks @littlekay15 @hi-mishamigos @eversweet-imagines @thisisthetragicstoryofme @augurydemon @daisy-john @siriuspadfoot14 @debiwolf-t @casual-vaporwave @swimmeranxiety @dangerousluv1 @ghosthiam @homecomjng @deep-thoughts-in-the-shower @bughead-isendgame @qu3en-of-letters @brightcolorsoffendme @cutehollands @enoumen-t @dottirose @justthatshortlittlenerd @thatgirlthatlikesmarvel @moonofmy-life @royal1958 @ashleyhearto @pinkleopardss @cutie1365 @spideyschmood @dragoste-lunes @peterparkley @gold-masks @stonesandskeletonbones @myhealingstar @a-typical-antisocial-fangirl @love-and-protect-bucky-barnes @fangirldreamsandstuff @fandom-stuff @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @jellzu @aussie-mantle @stevieboyharrington @septicquill @thingfromlove @dude-whatawave @me-a-hopeless-romantic @condy-wants-a-cookie @susurrantsoul @kawaii-girl-101 @lxstneverfound @ukulele-tea-and-ocean @tepidtrash @emilymarie0422 @styles-bucks @shortstack-ofpancakes @lilbeatlebear @imyourdadssideblog @the-introverted-loner-art @marvelcuties @lesdragly @atomic-chickenwings @reanne @schwankyblock @nedthegay @kateelyse96 @outsider-underwater @omg-lexiloveyou @le-yona @desteweirdo @thingfromlove @madasameg @bookish-and-shy @lowkeyfriggason @aelinashryv

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #spider-man x reader #spider-man imagine #spider-man x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman imagine #peter parker #tom holland #spider-man #spider-man: far from home #sm:ffh #spiderman: far from home #spiderman far from home

161 notes · View notes

hookedontaronfics · 5 years

Text

First Contact series - Part 7

Title: First Contact - Part 7 Read the previous installments here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Mild cursing A/N: Although Jess and Taron are officially dating now, will they have what it takes to survive a month apart? This chapter contains plenty of sweet fluffy moments. The series will eventually involve more mature themes as it develops, so be warned! Enjoy! x

I was startled awake by the sound of a large stack of papers hitting the top of my desk. I sat upright so quickly I nearly tipped over in my desk chair, and blinked a few times before gathering where I was. At work, at my desk. Right, just where I shouldn’t have been napping. I gazed up at my boss, who was tapping his foot impatiently.

“Sorry, what do you need?” I asked, wiping the corner of my mouth as surreptitiously as possible.

“Office, now,” he said, and strode off. Shit.

It’d been two weeks since Taron had left London for his work, and while I’d like to say I handled that time with complete calm and utter grace, that just wouldn’t be me. Most of the time he would be available to talk was the middle of the night for me, and sometimes our conversations would take up hours so I’d crawl into work after only having slept three or four.

I sighed and rearranged my clothes slightly, making sure I didn’t look as rumpled as I felt, and hurried off to my boss’ office, shutting the door behind me and trying to steel myself for the inevitable lecture.

“Please, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair. I perched on the edge of it, feeling ashamed and still exhausted.

“Is something going on that I should know about, Jess? I’ve noticed you’ve been exhausted and a bit scattered the past two weeks, and I just wanted to make sure everything in your home life is okay, and if not, if there’s anything I can do to help,” he said concernedly.

“I, uh, yes, everything’s fine. There’s just someone really important to me who’s been out of the country and so the only time we get to talk some days is late at night in my time zone. I’ve been trying to balance everything and not let it encroach on work but obviously I haven’t been perfect at that,” I admitted with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, I’ll do better,” I said, figuring that’s what my boss wanted to hear.

“If we need to adjust your hours to give you a later starting time, I think that could be arranged,” he said sympathetically.

“Really?” I asked, surprised again.

“We’re not tyrants here, Jess. Maybe that’s how it was for you in America, but we don’t try to take over our employees’ lives, and you’re one of our hardest workers here. You put in extra hours and always go the extra mile and that hasn’t been lost on me. So if this helps you get more sleep and be more productive, then I’m willing to try it out,” he smiled at that.

“Just for a couple more weeks,” I nodded, still a bit surprised with the outcome. We worked out some later hours for me and even the possibility of working from home when I didn’t have a table read, and I felt much better about things once I returned to my desk.

I made it through the rest of the workday with a hefty amount of caffeine and was grateful when I finally made it home to the flat. I kicked off my heels and laid down in my bed, still just completely worn out. I don’t remember dozing off, but I must have because I was awoken by my phone ringing. I had to dig it out from the sheets and it took a second for me to register that it was a video chat from Taron. I accepted the call and sat up, probably looking like a hot mess.

“Heeeey babe!” Taron grinned cheerily. I checked the time quickly; it was already night for him so I assumed he was just in his hotel room.

“Oh, hey,” I smiled sleepily.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, giving me the most adorable grin.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t supposed to be sleeping, so it’s alright,” I laughed. “I just got home from work an hour ago.”

“I see that,” he grinned, looking over me as I was still dressed in my nice office clothes.

“You mean I’m not just chilling in my jammies for once?” I giggled, before telling him I’d gotten caught napping accidentally at work but that it was all alright because my boss was amazing and I respected him for it. “It sounds silly to say it, but things have been really different for me here in London. I feel respected as an actual professional, not just someone’s slave,” I said thoughtfully. “Not to mention, I met you and that wasn’t something I ever counted on,” I grinned.

“I am oh so grateful that we did, though,” he said sweetly, making that familiar ache grow in my chest.

“I miss you so much,” I whispered softly, wishing I could reach through the screen and touch his beautiful face.

“I miss you too, badly,” he said, the video screen shaking as he seemed to readjust his position. I had to look away so it wouldn’t make me feel dizzy. “But it’s only two more weeks until you get to see me again. We can make it.”

“Do I sound pathetic?” I laughed at that.

“No, of course not, Jess. We’ve literally talked every day because I can’t stand not seeing your face. So if you’ve got it bad, so have I,” he replied.

“Oh, T,” I laughed softly. Sometimes he said things like that, and I didn’t always know how to respond. Our relationship had certainly grown despite the distance between us, and he always made it a point to text me good morning and good night no matter the time of day it was, or leave me funny memes or pictures to make me laugh. I loved how caring and thoughtful he was. He’d done everything in his power to keep me from feeling lonely and I was trying hard to stay grateful.

“I wish I could have brought you out here but that just wasn’t going to work,” he frowned, wrinkling his brow.

“It’s okay. I don’t want to distract you from your work. You know, work I’m completely and utterly going to fangirl over when I get to see it,” I teased lightly. “Don’t forget, Taron Egerton, I may be your girlfriend but I’m also your Number One fan,” I added, giggling.

“Oh boy,” he just chuckled. “Well I hope you’re ready for the VIP experience, because my girlfriend gets a very special place at my side,” he said sweetly.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” I smiled, as I heard the front door open. Mary must have just arrived home from work, and Jules wouldn’t be far behind.

“Roomies home?” Taron asked, having seen me look away at something. I nodded at that and yawned again.

“Shit, I need more coffee or something,” I whined.

“Or sleep,” Taron chuckled softly. “I decided it was my turn to stay up late and talk to you at a more normal time for you. I hate that I’ve gone and made you exhausted.”

“Oh please, talking every night has been the best part of every day,” I grinned at that. “I’ll take the exhaustion over not getting to see you. I just wish I could be with you right now. But, I know there will be more days like this ahead. I love what you do for a living and this might just be how it goes for us at times. I promise I can handle that.”

“I’m not so worried about you, love,” Taron said with a tired smile. “I’ve just gotten quite attached, you know. When I fall, I tend to fall hard,” he admitted.

Fallen for me? I thought to myself giddily. It still seemed hardly true at times that I was dating someone I’d long been a fan of, but it also just felt normal too. I’d met him on his level, as just another person living their life in London, and that our lives had intersected and started twining themselves around each other seemed almost meant to happen. We ended up having a lot of things in common, same musical tastes and interests in books and films. We could carry on conversations for hours about the deeper things in life. He was always thoughtful and introspective and unafraid to be emotional. Our personalities meshed so well, the more I got to know of the person he was when the cameras weren’t on. And I was beginning to deeply love that person.

“Hey, what are you thinking?” he asked, after I realized I’d been silent for a moment or two with my thoughts.

“How well we get on with each other,” I mused.

“Almost like it was meant to be,” Taron smirked back at me, his eyes dancing a bit.

“If that sudden storm hadn’t chased us into Tesco’s, and I hadn’t really needed brown sauce that day, then who knows if we’d ever have talked,” I laughed at that. “So yeah, it’s feeling a bit fated, isn’t it?”

“The brown sauce really did the trick,” Taron laughed heartily.

“I’m a bit obsessed, I know,” I giggled, pretending to hide my embarrassment behind my hands.

“But really, I can’t imagine I wouldn’t have somehow noticed a woman as beautiful as you walking about London.”

“Taaaron, you’re too kind,” I whined slightly. “Tell me again why we have to be apart right now?”

He just chuckled at that, and looked about to fall asleep. “You should go get some rest, babe,” I replied gently.

“Before I drop my phone on my face,” he smirked lightly. “Talk to you soon,” he promised sweetly, waving at the camera, and I tried to remember everything about his precious face in the moment. We took our good-byes and I at once found myself having to combat the feeling of loneliness that washed over me.

I got up and changed out of my work clothes into just a simple pair of jeans and a shirt I’d dumped on the floor that was still at least half-clean before heading out of my room to find Mary, nearly tripping over Tim stretched out in the hallway. “Damnit, Tim!” I said, laughing and hopping on one leg after stubbing my toe on the hardwood floor in an effort to avoid him. He just meowed at me indignantly and didn’t move. That cat had more sass than most adults, I giggled to myself before flopping on the couch.

“So, how’s the day?” I asked Mary.

“Oh! Good!” she grinned over at me, flipping through channels on the telly a bit idly. “Might have a date with my co-worker,” she said off-handedly.

“What!” I shrieked loudly. “No way! Tell me details, come on!” I giggled.

“Well, I took your advice and finally just asked Emmett if he were available and wanted to maybe get a coffee sometime and he actually said yes!” she grinned.

“Maaarreeeee!” I laughed. “I’m so happy for you,” I giggled. “And what did I say, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah, you told me so, I know,” she rolled her eyes at me. “It’s just scary! I don’t want to mess anything up.”

“You’ve just got to let it flow naturally, I guess. Try not to try too hard. When it forces things is when it gets awkward,” I tried to advise.

“What about you and Taron? How are things?” she asked curiously.

“Really good, I think. I miss him like mad. But we talk a lot, about a lot of stupid shit, really. And sometimes we fall asleep on each other and that’s always cute. But we’re becoming best friends first and that’s really important, I think. I’ve only kissed him a couple of times!” I giggled. “I want nothing more than to just be able to hug him again. But we’ve managed the first two weeks already and we’ll manage the next two weeks and then you can bet I’m going to tackle his ass at the airport!” I grinned, making Mary laugh.

“Well I think you two are couples goals,” she smiled. “It’s way too cute.”

“Well thanks, babes, I appreciate it. I really think I’m falling for him, head over heels,” I sighed softly. We talked a bit longer until Jules came home, pissed off about something at work, so we spent the next hour or so dishing on her idiot co-workers and making dinner together. It felt really good to just be there with my friends, allowing myself to be distracted from missing Taron so much. The evening ended relatively anticlimactically, and I fell asleep totally exhausted but at least happy.

The next week passed much the same, and I ended up grateful for my later hours, which meant I was much more refreshed and able to focus on work, and still get my late-night chats in with Taron. He was even sweet enough to have flowers ordered and sent to my work, and I loved looking at them at my desk and being reminded that I had someone who really cared about me. Our relationship was so much more than just what I could do for him; he returned that in kind and sometimes, even more than I felt I could.

“Mail!” Jules called out, breaking into my train of thought as I was perched on the couch, laptop on my lap, typing away at a script I was working on. She held the envelope in front of my face until I grabbed it. “What is this?” I asked, noticing it was from a travel agency.

“Hell if I know, but it’s got your name on it,” she shrugged, sitting on the couch and waiting for me to open it, nosy as she was.

“I never sent away for anything from this agency,” I commented as I slid my finger under the flap to open it. I pulled out what was inside, a plane ticket nestled inside a letter that simply read “Pack your bags and meet me in a week. I promise to make up for this month apart. -T”

Jules shrieked so loudly I nearly upset my laptop onto the ground. “Oh my god! That’s like the most romantic thing ever!”

“Jesus, Jules,” I laughed, a bit stunned as I tried to focus on the ticket’s destination. Dubrovnik? I thought, having to Google where that even was. Apparently it was a seaside town in Croatia; I had no idea, but I was sure Taron had chosen it for a particular reason.

“I don’t even know if I can go, Jules. I have work, I can’t just leave in a week. That’s insane,” I laughed softly.

“I’m sure Taron already cleared that with your boss. He seems the kind of guy to have planned all of that out,” Jules giggled. She had a fair point, I thought, finally giggling over it also.

“Holy shit. I’m going to Dubrovnik in a week,” I said, still not even sure how to process that.

I’m pretty sure I fairly floated through the next week, after confirming that Taron had indeed cleared my vacation with my boss a month ago, which surprised me that he’d already been thinking so far ahead. It also suddenly made so much sense as to why my boss had been kind to me about my exhaustion; he’d already known about Taron and my relationship and hadn’t been surprised in the least about it.

Jules had insisted that we go shopping and she persuaded me to choose some cute dresses and bathing suits and, even though I tried to get out of it, she conned me into the lingerie store too, much to my chagrin. I felt there was no way Taron would want to see my body in some lacy racy thing, but Jules promised to pay for it so I had a hard time saying no to the black sheer babydoll she convinced me to pick out.

I ended up shoving the lingerie on the bottom of the suitcase as I packed, leaving the tags on because I couldn’t really stomach the thought of myself in it. I tried to be practical also, and packed a pair of jeans and some leggings along with some cute blouses and tees. I figured we would mostly be comfortable; he’d seen me in my after-work clothes or pajamas so often now that it hardly seemed to matter. Plus, even if I’d fantasized about it more than once, I wasn’t exactly sure we’d end up sleeping together. We were closer than ever now, yes, but we had barely been physical.

I awoke the morning of my flight feeling both excited and nervous. Taron and I had talked briefly just before I’d gone to bed, and he had seemed so happy to finally see me. He told me he’d arrive in Dubrovnik a couple hours before me, and would be awaiting my arrival impatiently. He was just far too sweet for his own good, I thought as I dressed quickly. I did my hair and makeup and finished putting my toiletries together, nestling them in the space I’d reserved in my suitcase and latching it shut. I already had my carryon ready to go, and lugged both of those out to the main room before summoning an Uber to arrive in a half-hour.

Mary and Jules were eating breakfast but I felt a bit sick to my stomach thanks to nerves, so I just grabbed a protein bar and some coffee and made small talk with them until I got the notification that my Uber had arrived.

“Alright, ladies,” I grinned. “This is it. I’ll see you lovelies in a week!” I grinned as they both got up off the couch to hug me.

“You will have so much fun!” Jules squealed, happy for me.

“And come back all tanned, I bet,” Mary joked, and I laughed at that.

“Yeah, we’ll see. It’s gonna take a miracle to make me not blinding white,” I laughed, hoisting the carryon strap over my shoulder.

“Oh please,” Mary just grinned as Jules snapped her fingers and yelled “Hold on a sec!” as she ran off to her room. Mary just shrugged at me, but the look on her face told me she knew exactly what Jules was up to. Mary was a terrible liar.

Jules came back holding something behind her back. I tried to get a glimpse but she dodged my attempts and unzipped my suitcase, shoving something in there and zipping it back up. It was a box of some kind, but I couldn’t tell what. “What the hell did you just sneak into my suitcase?” I laughed at my roomies’ antics.

“Just something we figure you’ll need and wouldn’t have thought of yourself. Just trust us,” Jules said with a smirk.

“If those are condoms, so help me,” I said with mock severity.

“Oh for bloody’s sake, Jess. You’ve been flirting with Taron for three months now. Don’t you think it’s time?” Jules giggled, as I rolled my eyes but also blushed.

“Yeah, well, I can’t go into this expecting that, you know,” I shrugged. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. Bye!” I said, grabbing my suitcase and pulling it along with me, figuring I could toss the box later if I needed to. No sense in giving myself needless hopes.

“Have fun, but not too much fun!” Jules called out the door as I playfully flipped her off and hurried to the waiting Uber. I tossed my suitcase and bag in the back seat and soon we were heading off to the airport. My Uber driver had a decent playlist playing and didn’t seem one for conversation, and that was fine with me. I thanked him once we arrived at Heathrow and got myself through security and customs before feeling like I could finally relax a little.

<Just waiting to board! I can’t wait!> I texted Taron. I had no idea if he was already in the air or not, but almost immediately a text pinged through.

<I can’t wait to kiss your lovely face again. It’s been too long!> he wrote, making me swoon a bit.

<Same, T. Same> I texted back with a smile.

<I’ve just enjoyed the job so much and truthfully had no where I really wanted to go. London has suited me just fine> I texted back.

<Yes, well, you had vacation days to burn. With me> Taron really could be so cheeky sometimes, I thought as I heard the attendant begin the boarding process. We texted until I was seated comfortably in my first class seat; I’d never flown first class so this was an experience I intended to savor. The flight was smooth as could be, which made me happy. I watched a movie, read some, and mostly daydreamed about being in Taron’s arms again. I was incredibly impatient to deplane once we had landed in Dubrovnik; the process felt like it took forever but was probably no longer than normal.

<We’re here! We’ve landed safely! Just waiting to get off this plane!> I texted.

<I’ll be waiting, love> came the reply.

I made a pit stop in the bathroom on my way to baggage claim, mostly because I had to pee really badly but also because I wanted to make sure I looked put together. I exchanged my leggings for a skirt I had stashed in my carryon and ran my fingers through my hair, nodding to my reflection in the mirror. That would just have to do.

I had to make myself walk at a normal pace as I followed the signs to baggage claim, but probably dashed the final bit, trying not to knock into people rudely. I slowed as I neared the carousels, searching for my boyfriend (I was still so giddy over that word) in the crowd, and spotted him easily enough. He was holding two coffees and looking extra fit in tight jeans, a black shirt and a silken patterned button-down over that. But he could have been wearing a trash bag and he still would have stood out. His bright eyes and chiseled jaw were things I would never get tired of admiring. When he finally spotted me, the way his smile grew on his face made something in my chest ache, and soon we were crossing the space between us at the same time, meeting in the middle.

I dropped my carryon to the ground and Taron somehow managed to set the coffees down on top of his own suitcase without spilling a drop before enveloping me in his hug, burying his face against my shoulder as I hugged him tightly back. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, before finally pulling away just long enough to gaze adoringly at each other. “I know I’ve said this 80 times before, but I’ve missed you so much,” he said softly, tearing up slightly.

“Oh god, stop, you’ll make me cry too,” I laughed, having to wipe at my eyes a bit. “I’ve missed you like crazy also. Funny how that works, even if you talk every day, it’s just not the same.”

“You certainly can’t do this over the phone,” he said, tilting my chin up and leaning in, kissing me sweetly. It was even better than I remembered, the taste of caramel latte still on his lips. I relished it, letting him pull me to him; if anyone gave us looks, we couldn’t care at all. When we broke apart again he hugged me one more time for good measure, before scooping our coffees back up and handing me one. I grabbed my carryon again and we went to find the right carousel.

We chatted excitedly while waiting on my luggage to appear, Taron filling me in on how lovely the place was. I felt a thrill of excitement travel through me; I really was on a full week of vacation, alone with this man. I had no idea what he had planned, but I was so ready to discover it all with him. Taron grabbed my suitcase when it arrived, and for some reason my brain chose that moment to remind me that Jules had slipped a box of condoms inside; I ended up giggling like a lunatic, and Taron looked over at me, his eyebrow raised.

“Nothing, just thought of something funny Jules did is all,” I tried to explain.

“Why am I not surprised?” Taron chuckled as we headed toward the exit, stepping out into the bright sunshine and blue sky. Taron hailed a cab and gave the driver the name and address of the hotel we’d be staying at after we’d loaded in our luggage and clambered in. It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t thought this all through. Oh, right, all alone, in the same room, in the same bed, with Taron, I thought, feeling something seize in my chest. Was I ready for that? Were we? He seemed to sense my tension and reached over to squeeze my hand.

“Alright, love?” he asked me concernedly.

“Yeah, of course,” I said, a bit faintly.

“No, what’s wrong, be honest with me please,” he said, turning my head so I was looking at him.

“I just don’t think we discussed our sleeping arrangements yet,” I managed to stammer out.

“Oh sweetheart,” he said gently. “I booked us a room with two beds, so you wouldn’t be anxious over that,” he replied. He really did know me too well. “I promise you, this isn’t some setup. I wanted you here to enjoy yourself, to relax and have fun with me. Nothing will happen unless you want it to, understand?” he said, almost as if he was reading my mind. I nodded and tried to not feel ashamed of my anxiety. Any other girl would probably jump at the chance and not look back, but overcoming what I’d been through was going to take some time. Taron seemed to understand that and I was so grateful for him.

As we left the airport I couldn’t help but look out the windows around me, taking in the place, especially the historic district of the old city. I took in the stunning architecture and the people in it, baking under the sun. We drove a little bit of a ways out, to the other side of the bay, stopping in front of the Hotel Bellevue. We disembarked from the taxi, Taron paying our fare and then unloading our luggage. We walked inside and I had to gasp. The place screamed luxury and expense, sleek and modern with an unparalleled view of the Adriatic Sea. It was more than I honestly could have hoped for.

“Taron, this is too much,” I said softly after he had checked us in and was leading us up to our room. “I feel like I should be helping you pay for some of this,” I said, but he waved off my concern.

“Nonsense. I invited you here. I chose where I wanted to stay, but I asked you to come along with me. And you deserve the best,” he winked. “Besides, all I do is work. I’m finally taking a moment to rest. I should be able to enjoy what I’ve worked so hard for.”

“Yes you should,” I agreed. “I’m just not a freeloader.”

“Jess,” he said, turning to stop me in my tracks. “I try really hard not to judge people I don’t know but whoever you’ve been with before certainly didn’t know how to treat you well or right. And maybe this is a grand gesture, sure, but who would want to vacation by themselves anyway? This isn’t just for me, it’s for us, and that has nothing to do with money. I don’t care about that. I just want time with you, and that’s not something I’d ever expect you to pay for, alright?” he said, his expression so genuine I could only nod in agreement. “Now, you’re just going to have to get used to a bit of pampering,” he grinned, as we continued on our way to our room.

He let us in and I could only shake my head at how cozy and lovely it was, and the view out the windows and our private balcony were to die for. I couldn’t resist pushing open the doors and stepping outside to take in the view and the sea salt air. I breathed in deeply, resting my hands on the railing and leaning out slightly.

“Like what you see?” Taron grinned, coming up behind me and placing his hands on either side of me on the railing.

“Very much so,” I replied, smiling to myself. It definitely wasn’t so bad to feel him so close to me.

He leaned in close, slowly brushing my hair to one side and placing a couple of sweet kisses on my neck, drawing shivers down my spine as I felt his breath on my skin. “Welcome to Dubrovnik, love.”

Join Taron and Jess on their Dubrovnik adventure and see how their relationship unfolds in Part 8. Read it HERE!

#taron imagine #taron x reader #taron egerton #taron egerton fanfiction #taron fluff

48 notes · View notes

krixwell-liveblogs · 5 years

Text

Worm asks

Have you tried to give D&D alignments to The Travelers yet, and if not how would you classify them?

Hmm.

Trickster: True neutral

Sundancer: Neutral good

Ballistic: Chaotic neutral

Genesis: ???

Noelle: Lawful? good

Oliver: Chaotic nerd

Gurer’f abguvat vaqvfchgnoyl njshy tbvat guebhtu, ohg V’q qrsvavgryl yvxr gb frr yrff uvagvat znxr vg guebhtu gur fperravat gb Xevk

Sharks: Fher guvat. V’ir orra ehaavat bss gur vqrn gung vs vg’f va gur sbezng bs na ubarfg dhrfgvba, va beqre gb nibvq nabgure Fpragyrff Zna vapvqrag, ohg V pna svarghar vg vs crbcyr jnag?

As usual, translate here.

While you’re checking out all the Simurgh fanart, you should listen to this theme someone made for her: (google Simurgh Husr, first result. Hopefully sharks can just replace this with the actual link) Same person who made that Leviathan theme linked way back.

https://soundcloud.com/user-371879520/simurgh

This was really nice. I like how it does sound like a good melody while at the same time exhibiting some of the pattern-defying nature of the tune. 🙂

I think you miiiight have jumped to conclusions from an ask that simply asked you if you could list the Traveler’s cape and civilian names. Miiight have. Also, I’m pretty sure most of them where refered to by their civilian names in previous arcs.

It’s certainly possible.

It’s not so much that I jumped to the conclusion as that the ask opened my eyes to the possibility of it, which I hadn’t considered before. From there, I had to reevaluate things and consider how things would change if it turned out I had gotten the two mixed up. Ultimately I think I’d prefer for Cody to be Ballistic, but I’m still not sure either way (even with this ask heavily implying it’s Luke).

As for names, most of their names did show up (all the more reason for an ask about matching names to capes being kind of odd if it wasn’t trying to set me thinking of something), but I can’t recall Ballistic’s being one of them. But you know how my memory can be.

That smurf song you posted definitely says “dab dab dab” several times, despite the video being uploaded to YouTube in 2009, and the song supposedly being from 1978. So that’s suspicious as hell.

I… think that has to be the bits where it actually says “tramp, tramp, tramp på en smurf” (“stomp, stomp, stomp on a smurf”).

Either way, now we’re all forced to consider the concept of the Smurfs dabbing, so thanks for that. 😛

“Dragonberry” was Scarfgirl’s old character on City of Heroes, a MMORPG with a superhero theme that no longer exists. I know you’re not reading the chapter comments, but if you ever go back to read the early ones, you’ll see that quite a lot of the early readers were City of Heroes players who had an interest in superhero fiction. That’s why Scarfgirl’s art is signed “Dragonberry”, because it’s how people knew her back then.

Ah, interesting. Fun to hear a little about the fandom’s early history. 🙂

I’ve had many names, myself. Once upon a time I used to make a different name, if not more, for just about every site I was on. One of the names that stuck with me the most was Elementarion, which I used in the game Godville and a few other places (not every Elementarion that comes up on Google now is me, though), because I found long-time friends while using that name.

Though for some reason I wonder why 😛, nobody seemed to want to type it out every time they wanted to mention me. I’ve been called almost every short form of Elementarion there is. El was the most common (made watching Stranger Things kinda odd the first time around, even though I’d long abandoned the name), but I’ve been called Ele, Elem, Eleme, Elemen, Element…

A couple other highlights I remember were Hiatus (in a browser game I don’t remember the name of), OldHeavens (NewGrounds) and Barbute (ArmorGames).

It wasn’t until I came up with Krix Jace, later Krixwell Jace, that I started stabilizing my name.

1. Do you think people ever submit misleading questions just to fuck with you?

Some, probably. And that might be a good thing — if there are some asks that deliberately imply things that are wrong, it makes it harder to trust accidental implications of things that are right.

2. Have you ever noticed that Danny and Eidolon have never been in a scene together?

Hmmmmmm 🤔

Still no Travelers interlude… do you still think you’ll get one, or has this dashed your hopes?

Ahaha

Yeah, no, I’m counting this as everything I asked for and more. 😛

Sharks:

http://www.nospoiler.com/y/WenCYI_Bn7I

Sent in by “ewerwqer”. “Simurgh Scream” by person257 Don’t… Open it with headphones on. Trust me. Don’t.

I’m scared.

*disconnects his headphones*

…not as bad as the description sounded, but yeah, probably a good idea to not use headphones. It’s a well put-together bit of mind noise, nice work. 🙂

Worm fanart

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

By Winkle92

Oooh, there are more of these? Awesome! They’re all going in my backgrounds folder.

I love how Behemoth just kinda peeks around the corner of the image border. It’s okay, don’t be shy!

(Also I just discovered I can do slideshows. Neat.)

K6BD ask

My favorite part is the Master of Aesthetic saying “she is an idiot, and a loathsome schemer!” and YISUN is all “YEP, YOU GOT THAT ONE RIGHT 😀 😀 :D”. With Aesma standing right there.

YISUN is the type of person who has “precious trash babies” in every fandom they’re in. 😛

I feel like you all need to know, even if you don’t care about MLP:FiM, that the final episode of the show proved us all wrong.

The show’s resident Skitter is not Queen Chrysalis, the villainous, scheming ruler of a hive full of insect ponies.

Nor is it Twilight Sparkle, the mainest character and socially awkward brainiac who leads a team of five other main characters and always does her research if she can.

No, because of this one episode, it becomes clear:

It’s Rarity.

…

Okay, that’s just a joke, Twilight is still the best fit among the Mane Six, but Rarity using spiders for her fashion did immediately make me think of Taylor.

Twilight – Taylor

Applejack – Brian

Rainbow Dash – Rachel

Rarity – Lisa

Fluttershy – Alec??

Pinkie Pie – Aisha??

(Spike – Shatterbird??????)

K6BD patron comments

1. “What happened to Hansa” is addressed in the Prim story so that’s still out there if you want to know.

Ahh. That would explain why it was left unexplained in Aesma, aside from acting as a noodle incident if you haven’t read Prim.

2. As you observed, the word “demon” has appeared very rarely in the comic, outside of epic title drops & an instance where drunk Allison used it in place of “devil”. It’s used in some of the bonus texts but without a clear definition. Can you speculate further on what it might mean?

The priests seem to call Aesma a demon in the sense of a being of evil, but I don’t think that’s necessarily a definition that’s relevant to the comic’s title (and what appears to be Allison’s “name” in some sense, though the Demiurges do seem to have misinterpreted other parts of the prophecy and Zoss didn’t unambiguously use it as a name). It may be more about inner demons, Allison killing her fears, doubts and insecurities as she grows into the role of a king/queen of the cosmos. Six billion might be hyperbole, in that case, but still.

Alternatively, the prophecy and name might actually refer to Zaid, who could easily end up being the final villain of this thing even if he’s not actually Zoss’ intended successor. In that case, “six billion demons” might refer to humans, if Zaid gets really nasty with his own species. We know very little about Zaid’s base personality beyond “kinda sleazy boyfriend”, so a lot of developments are plausible on that front.

Though there are other parts of the prophecy, as well as illustrations, that do fairly clearly indicate Kill Six Billion Demons is Allison and will be flanked by White Chain and Ciocie, so it referring to Zaid is unlikely.

3. I think the author once said that there are still Aesma-worshippers active in Throne. What do you think they’re like and what would she think of them?

(Somehow the flesh sellars come to mind.)

Well, clearly they’d be Slytherins, if they understand her teachings. Aesma might treat them as ants, if she were still around, but bask in their adoration.

4. Kalpa — a Hindu / Buddhist concept meaning a really fucking long time. Besides in the story you just read, the term has also appeared in the comic at least once so far.

Good to know. I think I kind of just assumed it was Throne’s equivalent of a year, however long it might be.

5. Panopticon — a prison design envisioned by philospopher Jeremy Bentham, allowing all prisoners to be observed from a central point.

Makes sense. When I read it in Aesma’s story, the word’s construction was clear enough that I figured out what it was immediately, before I finished reading the sentence. It very clearly means a place from which to see everything.

6. Root — penis.

Yeah, I figured that one out. 😛

7. To offset the unfortunate scarcity of Cio in your life lately, here’s some of the old concept art:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

(The quantity of arms was somewhat uncertain.)

Oooh.

Her arms and legs look so spidery here. I suppose that might be why she was introduced with the Coat of Arms.

Can Skitter control her?

8. Not related to K6BD but Abaddon has also been working on a tabletop mecha RPG and here’s the very nice cover art:

Ooh, you’re right, this looks very nice. It kind of gives me a K6BD x Steven Universe x Star Wars vibe. And a little bit of RWBY with that one guy that reminds me of Tyrian. I can definitely see the resemblance between this an K6BD in terms of character design style, despite the genre shift.

I particularly like the blonde in the lower left.

In the interest of transparency, I should also mention that the patron has said he probably won’t sponsor full liveblogs of any of the other bonus texts, but has sent me a few recommendations and links to some of the ones I’ve passed (besides Prim). I might read some of those on my own time, though, especially the second Aesma story. If I do, I will of course let you know and discuss any particularly notable observations.

Between: PB7

10 notes · View notes

21st-century-daydreamer · 5 years

Text

This Stupid Little Thing Called Life. pt.2

Summary: 6 teenagers got kidnapped while on a trip across Europe. The reader finds out that it’s not just a usual kidnapping. That the world is not what she thought it was. The mundane girl got swept into the world S.H.I.E.L.D and H.Y.D.R.A.

Word Count: 3,731

Warnings: A little makeout, violence.

Pairing: Eventual Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, OC x Reader, Avengers x platonic!Reader

if you wanna be tagged on the next part or have a request please message me here.

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

We manage to find some money with Vincent’s pickpocketing skills. At first, I thought we could go to the police, but we’re not sure who to trust anymore. Vincent found us a little motel for us to sleep in. We decided that we would take watch, he offered to be on the first watch but I told him that he’s done enough already and he needs to rest. I couldn’t sleep anyway. Don’t get me wrong my body felt like dying but I just can’t bring myself to close my eyes.

I sat on the twin bed that was closer to the bathroom staring at the mold invested celling, the realization that we’re out just hit me, but it doesn’t mean that they won’t go after us. From now on we’ll always be on the run. The sooner I accept that the better. I got up from my bed wondering what had changed from the world after two whole years. I peeked from the window and realized that I can’t really see the changes in a small town.

The sun had started to set and I could finally see the sunset again after two years, it’s things like this that I took for granted when I was free. The fresh air of the morning and the stars at night, I never thought how special they were until now. Tears escaped my eyes and in no time I started sobbing, out of happiness and pain at the same time. Suddenly the light started to flicker and out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the coffee table started floating. I turned around and every furniture in the room is floating and there was a blue hue or some kind of mist in the air. I gasped and all the furniture all fell down with a loud thud, thank God it wasn’t too high otherwise I could break all of them. But the thud woke Vincent up, “What the hell? Was there an earthquake?” he said groggily still half asleep.

“It was me, sorry...” I whispered. He sat up and rub his eyes, finally realizing that my eyes were bloodshot red. He walked up to me and cup my cheek with his hand. “Hey, we’re out. We’re safe.” he smiled softly. His hands were rough, I looked up to his brown eyes and felt safer for some reason. “They’ll come for us..” I said softly.

“I know, but I won’t let them hurt you again. Never again.” He pulled me into a hug. I stayed right there for a while, I haven’t been treated with such soft and gentle touches in 2 years, it was always pushing, beating, etc. I figured it was the same for him.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” I pulled away first.

He giggled “Right I forgot about that...” he continued “Well, it’s just that I was super tired and stuff you know.”

I found a towel and in the wardrobe, I haven’t even grabbed it yet but I can already smell the unpleasant smell of cigarettes. Why the hell does the towel smell like cigarettes? Well, I need to work with what I got so cigarette towel it is. The bathroom was not so bad, considering the price of this place. I turned on the shower, and I take back what I said about the bathroom being not so bad.

Even though I set it on hot, the water was ice cold. I shrieked and almost slipped in the shower. I heard the door burst open and the panic voice of Vincent, “Y/N? You okay?” thank God for the shower curtain. “Yeah sorry, turns out the hot water doesn’t work.” I sighed. “Did you break the door?” I asked him.

“No, you forgot to lock it.” Oops. “I’ll leave you to it then.” and he left.

Vincent was sitting on the edge of the bed when I got out of the shower. After we’re done cleaning up we realized that the only clothes we had were the one that we just stole on the way up here.

“Vincent we need to earn money and clothes and food. How are we gonna do that?” I asked him while sitting cross-legged on my bed.

“Like we just did, I’m gonna get us some clothes, and food and maybe burner phones and laptop.”

“You gonna steal all that?” I asked him.

“Well, we can’t exactly get a job can’t we?”

The next few weeks Vincent and I survived on stealing stuff. He taught me how to do it. On the second week of being out, Vincent already found a way to get us fake ids and some fake passports. Over those few weeks, we learned more and more about each other and we become closer. Vincent was an ex-military, he said that he got a better job offer from a private organization, that’s why he’s so good at this stuff. Well too good, his fighting skills and body counts piqued H.Y.D.R.A’s interest on him. That’s why they want him for the experiment. I couldn’t really judge for the body count part, considering I killed my own friends' and multiple other people that they threw at me. And in between our free times, he told me to learn to control my powers and we have a lot of free time. It’s not like we can go out and explore, we won’t risk it.

Tonight Vincent thought we don’t need to get out again because we got enough money for a couple of days to buy food and pay the room rent. Russia was cold at that time of years, I was freezing my ass off underneath a useless blanket. “You know I have higher body heat than most people,” he said. I contemplate for a second whether it’s gonna be awkward or not if went over to him. Fuck it I’m not freezing my ass off.

I went over to his bed and got under the cover. When I was doing so I realized that his hair was shorter, “Did you cut your hair?” I asked.

“Yeah, I found a pair of scissors,”

“You look great.”

I was still sitting down when I stopped moving, hoping that he got my signal that I don’t know what I should do.

“Here...” he pulled me down and put my head on his chest and his arms circle around me. He’s right, I’m so much warmer now. “Thank you.” I titled my head to look him in the eyes, and in that split second his eyes went to my lips. I didn’t realize what was going on until he planted his lips on mine. My mind went blank but I didn’t pull away. After a few seconds, I started giving in to the kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft against mine. We move in sync and it became more and more desperate as each second passes. He licked my lips and I opened my mouth letting him in. I let out a quiet moan as he did, and he flipped us so that he was hovering over me. His mouth went to my neck and I couldn’t think straight anymore because of his lips and his hands roaming around me.

“Hello, excuse me.” We heard a knock on the door and that’s when we were snapped out of it. He got up and walked towards the door with a gun in hand. How did he even get that? He puts his body to cover the gap from the door.

“How can I help you?” he asked.

“I think I accidentally bumped into your car when I parked outside, do you wanna take a look at it? I will pay for the damage,” he said with a thick Russian accent. “Yeah no it’s fine... just leave it be. Good night.” he closed the door and turned around “We need to leave.” he whispered. “Wha-” he puts his finger on his mouth silencing me and he put it to his ears, signaling that someone might be listening. “Listen that guy knocks on our door and miraculously knows that we speak English? Even though we’re in a small town in Russia and the car that he mention has a Russian plate? They found us.” I jumped out of the bed a put on jeans and jackets as fast as I can. I grabbed the duffel bag filled with things that we need on the run from the table. Vincent said that our thing must always be inside this bag so that if we ever need to flee we can do it in seconds. Our bathroom has a small window that can fit us individually but we need to work together, it’s situated pretty high on the wall. We escaped through there. We ran from the back and decided to go to the train station, We bought a ticket to a bigger city so that we can flee Russia from there. On the station, Vincent spotted some sketchy guys but we manage to avoid them.

We decided to stay in Vienna, we were pretty hidden there. Vincent did some dirty work here and there and manage to have enough money to rent a small apartment. It’s pretty basic the mattress was on the floor and we didn’t really have any furniture, we just had the ones that came with the apartment. With our fake credentials, we manage to get a job at a small underground club, 90 Proof. Vincent got a job as a mechanic. A few weeks into this job I realized that this job has its perks. The people that go here are not exactly ‘normal’, turned out that this club is just a cover for crimes syndicate activity from drugs, prostitution, and last but not least illegal human experimentation. One of the names that were circling around was Dr. Grerad Guirera. It wasn’t hard on collecting information off of drunk patrons. But no one really knows where he is. In 90 Proof I met with someone that would offer me jobs of heist even assassination, anonymously. After a couple month, I made a name for myself. They call me The Zircon. I don’t really know why, but I’m guessing it was because of the blue hues. I kept this a secret from Vincent, thinking that he was finally settling down after all the bullshit we went through. Little did I know that the mechanic was just a cover.

I was given instruction to take a package that was left by one of my client's men at the club. They told me it will be ready at 2 AM. But because I work there, I was already present when the drop happened. It was Vincent. I dragged him and the package to the bathroom, “Hey sweet...I was just visiting you at work, Surprise.” He smiled.

“Cut the bullshit, you’re working for one of my clients?”

“Clients? I thought you’re only a bartender?” I glared at him.

“And I thought you’re a mechanic.”

“Cats out of the bag now.”

“We’re gonna have a little talk at home.” I took the package and left.

“I’m dating the Zircon?” Vincent smiled to himself.

After my shift, I went home and had a very needed conversation with Vincent. “I’m doing this to get to Doctor Asshole, babe. That’s it. I want him to pay for everything he did.” I told him. He was pacing around the living room, back and forth. “Can you stop that. It’s giving me a headache. And technically we’re even, you also lied to me about your job.”

“Yeah, I heard what you did. I know you’re kicking ass or whatever, but you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“Maybe you’re forgetting that you are not the only one who got training in that facility. I can do this. The sooner we get to him, the sooner I stopped all of this.” I wanted to settle down more than anything, but I couldn’t rest until he’s dead. Not only because of my grudge against the asshole but he won’t stop hunting us.

“Fine! But I’m coming with you with every mission.” he proposed.

“NO! My clients ask for one assailant, not two. What if words get out that it was two? What about the guys you’re working for. I don’t have any loyalty to anyone, but you do.” For me, mercenary work is better, no strings or loyalty shit.

“I’ll kill them, they’re asshole anyway,” he said simply with a smile.

“You can’t kill an entire cartel or whatever they are. Are you insane? If even one escape-” he cuts me off.

“Sweets,” he pulled me in his embrace. “You’re forgetting that you’re not the only one with powers here.” He smirked. That smirk of his, I can’t help but smile.

“Fine... you cannot let even one escape.” He nodded. “And do it after I got the payment alright?”

“If I’m going to kill them we might just steal from them too right?”

“Careful okay... If you die, I’ll kill you.”

“What?” He laughed and gave me a peck.

And afterward, we got a lot of resources and ammo. We started working together and started receiving clients from the web. We’ve been taking missions that might lead to doctor asshole but nothing ever came out of it.

2011

After years of doing those shit, our name was a household name in the underworld but we’re getting frustrated. Vincent got more and more ruthless with every kill, he no longer has any regards for civillian casualty. For him, they’re just collateral. He’s no longer the man that I loved. But who am I to judge, I’m not exactly a saint myself. I’ve lost count to how many body counts I have. I didn’t only kill men but women too. Vincent is rougher now, in every way possible. Not that I’m complaining but I’m worried that this was permanent. I know that blood lust is a dangerous addiction and hard to cure.

The more our name got out there, the more people know. Words on the street is that some big organization was looking for us. All I got was the name, SHIELD. Vincent and I got an assassination mission, our opening was a charity gala in Germany that our target threw. He was the head of a technology company, George Benn. I guess he had an enemy in the business.

“Why can’t we just blow the whole place up?” Vincent said while munching on his chips. “We can’t because that means more casualty and more investigation on shit that means...”

“More exposure for us” he finished my sentence. He laid on his back on the hotel bed. He let out a long sigh. I moved from the table and straddled him, “Why the long face baby?” I asked him.

“I just wanna kill him, for everything that he did to you...” he looked up at me. “You know what I wanna kill all of his friends everyone he holds dear...”

“Vincent they’re innocent, Guirera did this,” I asked him with concern.

“I want him to feel what you feel.”

“I know, but they don’t deserve it.” he thinks that he’s doing this for me, but what he didn’t realize is that this blood lust, this ambition will eat him alive.

“I don’t care.”

“VINCENT!”

“What?”

“They don’t deserve that. I know that your doing this for me, but don’t be like them, Vincent. Don’t let this consume you.”

“Whatever, come here.” He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me down to meet his lips. And with that, the problem was lost. I rolled my hips a little and that earn a little groan from him. I smirked and did it again. “You little minx.” He flipped us over and he hovers on top of me. Let’s just say the mission planning was forgotten.

The day of the gala, I got my hand on a neurotoxin that can leave no trace on the victim’s body. I wore a black body fitting gown, I was curling my hair on the bathroom when suddenly I got this gut-wrenching feeling out of nowhere. “Baby you re-” he walked inside the bathroom, “DAMN...”

“No...stop. We’re not doing that.” I warned him.

“Do what?” he walked closer and closer to me.

“Vincent!”

“Fine..but after.”

I turned around towards the mirror again and sigh, “What’s wrong baby?” he wraps his arms around my waist from behind me. I met his eyes in the mirror, “I have this feeling in my gut Vincent like something bad is gonna happen.”

“Babe this is like a walk in the park for us okay... This is so damn simple, nothing is gonna happen okay.” he kissed the top of my head.

“But this is the same feeling that I got before I was taken. Vincent something is up.”

“Y/n nothing’s gonna happen... I promise you, we’re gonna finish this and head back, alright?” he assured me.

When we arrive at the gala, I walked around talking to people. And finally, I saw George. I took two glasses of champagne from Vincent that was posing as a waiter. One of them is laced with the neurotoxin, it would start to work for 30 minutes, with no warning signs. It was the perfect toxin. It gave him time to eat something else so that they won’t be suspicious of the champagne. It went smoothly, he didn’t even seem suspicious over anything. Well, maybe he was too distracted by the cleavage of my dress to notice anything.

I signaled Vincent that we’re done. He didn’t respond over the earpiece.

“Vincent,” I called him again, no response again. My panic mode set in, I walked toward the kitchen and saw it was deserted. “Vincent,” I called out his name.

“Hello, little thing... Nice to see you again, after what? A year? Let me tell you, you and your boyfriend here are good. But then again we did train you didn’t we?” It was Guirera.

“Where is he? What did you do to him?” My hands started glowing blue. My gut was right.

“Careful with that, you want him alive, don’t you? Vincent is just another experiment, we have dozens like him, but you? You’re one of a kind.” He walked closer.

“Come with us and he’ll live.”

One of his goon brought him with a collar in his neck. “Oh that... yeah, he can’t use his power anymore.” He kicked the back of his knees and he went down. His goons pulled out a huge knife and put it on his chest. I tried to hurt the man with the knife, he started groaning. “ You killed any of us they’ll explode the chip that we implanted on his neck.” He showed me his tablet with the controller. “Fine,” I said. They put the same collar around my neck. And they brought a small glass jail cell and put me in there. “Gamma-ray... You’ll be useless in 10 minutes.” The moment I stepped foot in there, I lost my footing.No matter what I’ll always protect him even if I have to go back. “Sir, SHIELD is here.” A man walked into the kitchen.

“Well..kill him.” he turned around and left.

“NO!” They plunged the knife into his heart. “NO!” I banged on the glass as hard as I can. “Please no...Vincent!!!” They dragged his body away.

The man behind my cell started to cover my cell with a tarp and I felt the cell moving. It was cramped in there, as I hugged my knees to my chest crying in the pitch black cell... I remembered everything that we did. Suddenly I felt my cell fell forward and I face planted. I heard gunshots through outside.

Someone opened the tarp, but I don’t even care anymore. “I think I found her,” he said.

I turned around and see a suit of armor. Tony Stark, what the hell is he doing here. He brought the cell up again, I kept my position crouching and leaning on the glass wall. A man with an eye patch walked in as Stark was opening the cell door. “Don’t!” he said.

“Whatever HYDRA did there, it contained her power. She can’t hurt anyone. Take her.” They took me in my cell dragging me towards the back door. I saw his blood when we passed it. And after that, my body just collapsed into darkness.

3rd person POV

Fury stared at the unconscious girl in the infirmary. He hides his emotion well, Maria Hill that stood next to him couldn’t pinpoint whether her boss wanted the girl to be executed, imprisoned, or taken as an asset. She reviewed her files once more and saw the horror that she went through, that made her understands why she did what she did for a split second. But crime is a crime. Natasha came inside the viewing room, “that’s the HYDRA’s asset? She’s really young.” Natasha asked him.

“Y/N Y/L/N. 21 year old. Taken when she was just 17,” he said.

Hill gave Natasha the folder and she read it. “Jesus Nick, she went through a lot. We’re gonna need one hell of a psychiatrist in the F.R.I.D.G.E. (shield special containment facility).” She said.

“Why is there a cat in there?” She saw an orange cat sleeping next to the unconscious girl.

“We’re not sending her to the FRIDGE.” he replied.

“What?” Hill was confused.

“Goose likes her.” he simply answered.

“Then where are you gonna put her? She needs a lot of supervision and interrogation. The chances are the world security council will want her locked up after the interrogation, even if they decided not to they will assign her at least a level 7 agents to supervise her.” Maria argued.

“I’ll take her.” Tony walked in.

“You are not level 7. You’re technically a consultant for shield.” Maria said.

“Alright, she’s staying in your Miami house?” Fury asked.

“Sir.” Maria tried to argue.

“Nope, Director’s order,” Tony said.

A/N Hey guys... For some reason my story won’t show up on tags so... please help reblog this post so that more people can see them. And I know it’s kind of a long wait to see some of the characters but I promise you that after this chapter a lot of familiar faces are gonna be main. This is my first series and I hope you guys like it.

6 notes · View notes

angel-with-a-pipette · 6 years

Text

Title: Kiss me twice

Summary: Terra thought she trusted him. They shared their fears, shared their nightmares and even shared quarters. But apparently, none of this was enough for Aqua to trust him completely. But he was ready to earn that trust back.

Rating: Teen and up

Genre: Romance

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Disney/Square Enix. A Terraqua story. Please check the notes at the end! :3

This is part two of a three part series called “Don’t think twice”. Only one other pairing to go… ;3

Also available on: ao3 | ff.net

Please enjoy!

"I still don't like this."

At the sound of her voice, Terra flinched, dropping a bolt into the open engine compartment. He was hunched over one of Cid's gummi ships, checking the levels of various liquids while Cid was working under the ship. On the other side of the ship, Aqua and Ven were checking the equipment they needed.

"Oh come on, Aqua," he heard Ven reply cheerfully, "you know this is our best chance now.”

It truly was their best bet as of now. Right after Sora had returned to ask Yen Sid about the Book of Prophecies that Xehanort had recently acquired, he had summoned a meeting of all present Keyblade Wielders. It turned out that the book was a very important artifact, thought to be lost for so long it was barely more than a legend. A book that supposedly held details about the first Keyblade War.

“Going into Xehanort's hideout to steal a book that may or may not help us and that you may or may not even find is our best chance?”

“We will find it,” he heard Ven trying to convince Aqua, “Terra remembers Xemnas looking for it and he knows what the book is supposed to look like. Sora mentioned that power emanated from it, it will stand out from any pile it might be hidden in. By the way, we are low on elixirs.”

Terra finally got hold of the bolt again and screwed it on when he heard the low clinking of glass from the other side of the ship. Judging by Ven's upbeat “Thank you!”, Aqua must have shared her spares elixirs with him. He went back to his own thoughts as he proceeded to check the oil.

Everyone had agreed that the book might be important enough for them to risk breaking into the Castle that Never Was, and after some discussion, it was determined that he and Ven were to go.

And that was where Aqua's problem lay.

"But why you two?!"

Terra sighed and wiped off the dipstick before screwing it in again.

“You were there when we talked about it, ” Terra could basically hear Ven's eyeroll in his words, “we are the only two who might sneak in and out totally undetected.”

Ven was right. They had debated it back and forth, but it made perfect sense. Whether Terra liked it or not, his time fused with Xehanort lead to them having a similar presence, a similar smell so to speak. If everything went according to plan, they wouldn't even realize Terra had entered the Castle because they would just feel Xehanort's presence. The same was true for Ven and Vanitas – being two sides of a coin, he was the other person who was least likely to be recognized in the Castle.

“Emphasis on might,” Terra heard Aqua add with a small huff and it sent a stab through his heart.

Everyone had agreed on the plan and decided he and Ven were the best hope they had.

Everyone except Aqua.

She hadn't outright protested, only questioned why the two of them had to go and why she and Riku couldn't take over the mission, but that had been enough confirmation for Terra that she didn't trust him. And it hurt.

Terra knew he deserved it in some way. Nobody could deny that he had been the big villain for the last decade, whether it had been involuntary or not. But while it had taken them a while to warm up to each other again – and it was mostly to him trying to keep his distance – he felt like they had been making progress after the night they had ended up accidentally falling asleep next to each other in the kitchen. Ever since that night, they had shared all their fears and nightmares and started sleeping next to each other since it kept their nightmares at bay.

Terra had thought that Aqua trusted him again, like she did before his failed Mark of Mastery, before their lives started crumbling down into the mess they were in now, but apparently she didn't.

“Look, Aqua.”

To Terra's surprise, he heard Ven groan loudly. “Xehanort risked this guy named Marluxia being killed by Sora only to retrieve this book. He still hasn't filled his thirteen Darknesses and yet he risks having to claim another one? And not only that, I feel it. I can't explain why, but something about this book makes me very uncomfortable, tells me to go and get the book. That it shouldn't be in Xehanort's hands under any circumstances."

"Nothing should be in Xehanort's hands," Aqua agreed and Terra agreed, too. He gently let the cowl fall shut at the same time that Cid rolled out from under the ship and started to clean his grease stained hands on a towel.

"Alright, this baby's ready for take off. You done, too?"

“Yeah, everything's good.”

“Great! You remember the controls?”

Terra nodded – he had plenty of experience driving his Keyblade glider after all.

"Well, I'll be off then. Good luck on your mission."

"Thanks, Cid."

The two of them shook hands and as soon as Cid had disappeared from the hangar, Terra begrudgingly rounded the gummi ship to meet Ven and Aqua.

"You guys ready?"

"I think so," Ven replied quickly and met Terra on the outside of the ship. Aqua on the other hand let her eyes run over the equipment one last time before she followed Ven outside.

"Alright then, it's time," Aqua sighed, but put a smile back on her face quickly. She carefully brushed Ven's fringe to one side and pressed her lips in a soft kiss against his forehead.

"Good luck. Take care."

She turned to Terra and he immediately stiffened beneath her eyes. Seemingly unaware of it, Aqua took a step towards him and grasped his bicep gently to tug him down. When he didn't budge, Aqua started to frown.

"Come on, get down here, you're too tall," she teased with a warm smile, but Terra started to gently pluck her fingers off of his arm. As if he had burnt her, she pulled her hands away from it quickly, cradling them against her chest, and the hurt in her eyes pained him enough that he had to avert his eyes.

“Terra –“

"I'll prove it to you, okay?"

After a few seconds of silence, he heard Aqua's voice shaking.

“What do you mean?”

Terra sighed and started to rake his hands through his hair, doing his best to avoid her glance.

"I know you don't trust me right now," he began again, “and it's okay. I get it. I deserve it. But I will make sure that this mission is a success. I will prove it to you that you can trust me again."

“What are you talking about?”

Exasperated, he finally met her eyes again and was taken aback by the confusion in them.

“You were against this mission. Against Ven and me going. And I understand that you have your doubts about me being able to finish this mission, but I promise, I will retrieve the book. I will bring back Ven safely.”

“Oh Terra,” her eyes softened and her entire body seemed to deflate, “is that what you've been thinking? Is that why you ran off without a single glance back?”

“I want to earn your trust back,” he replied, but before he could continue, something soft collided with him. Terra looked down and realized that Aqua had thrown herself at him, arms wrapped around his midriff as she hugged him tightly.

“Sorry,” she muttered into his chest, “I am so sorry. Terra, that's not what I meant at all.” She pushed herself off of him to face him, but Terra quickly reached for her shoulders so she wouldn't leave completely.

“Of course I am against the two of you going. But not because I don't trust you. Terra, I just got you back, both of you. I'm terrified of losing you again.” Her lower lip started to tremble. “I hate how I have to stay here and hope you two return safely. I trust you, but I've been away from you so long that I want to make sure for myself that you two are safe."

Terra swallowed hard. He hesitantly raised his hand and when Aqua didn't move away, he gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He needed to hear it again.

“You trust me?”

The corners of Aqua's lips curled up and he could swear he had never seen her eyes shine as brilliantly as they did at this moment.

“Of course I do. With my life. I've always trusted you with my life.”

Without further thought, Terra pulled Aqua closer, causing her to stumble against him, but her short yelp was quickly smothered by his lips pressing against hers.

At once, he felt peace wash over him. This was it. This felt right, better than the thrill of summoning his Keyblade, better even than banishing Xehanort from his body once and for all.

Enveloped in Aqua's lavender scent, Terra finally felt home.

Then why didn't she return the kiss?

The peaceful sensation was quickly replaced by dread. She didn't return his feelings and he probably just destroyed their decade old friendship, not to mention the last ounce of trust she had had in him.

He carefully placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed gently, taking a shaky breath. He didn't dare to open his eyes and squeezed them shut instead.

“Aqua, I am so–“

Aqua's fingers curled into his T-shirt and pulled him close until their lips met once again.

Without missing a heartbeat, Terra wrapped his arms around her waist strong enough to momentarily lift her off of the ground. He used her squeal of surprise to deepen their kiss and reveled at the fact that he heard the tiniest of sighs escape her before her lips – softer than he ever had dared to imagine – curled up to a smile against his when he used one of his hands to nudge her chin up to meet his kiss better.

Oh how he loathed the moment when he had to pull away again to breathe.

Unable to part for too long, he bumped his forehead against Aqua's breathing heavily as he felt Aqua smooth out the wrinkles her strong grip had made into his shirt. It did nothing to calm his frantically beating heart.

A small squeak that was decidedly not his or Aqua's pulled Terra back into the harsh reality that not only did they have a spectator, but they also had a mission.

Castle that Never Was. Xehanort. Book of Prophecies.

He sighed inwardly and brushed his nose lovingly against Aqua's while keeping his eyes closed. He wanted to cherish every single second of this.

“We'll come back to you. I promise.”

“I know you will.”

She pushed herself out of Terra's half-embrace and he was ready to bemoan the loss of her warmth when he felt her lips against his cheek.

“For good luck,” Aqua explained with a smile as Terra opened his eyes in surprise. He loved how radiant her flushed face looked.

“Be safe.”

A big shout-out to @0littlelight0 ! She did some amazing art of Terra and Aqua for me last year. Back then, this fanfic was just a mere thought in my head, but I finally managed to write it down. It turned out quite differently than initially planned, but the beautiful art still fits with this piece :3 Please go over to her blog and give her lots of love!

#Terra #Aqua #Terraqua #KH #0littlelight0 #KH fanfiction #Alja's fanfictions #Ventus #Kingdom Hearts #GOOD NIGHT LOL

52 notes · View notes

michael-radi-the-glamorous-life · 5 years

Text

As We Stumble Along...

This week I had the pleasure of being part of the first NYC externship for my Alma Mater’s brand new, and now fully developed, Musical Theater Program. I had the chance to work with some lovely SUNY Geneseo Juniors and Seniors in a new musical theatre workshop - an entirely new experience for all of them - and attended the first ever Senior Showcase. The talent was wonderful, the interactions were lovely, and the entire experience got me thinking…a dangerous pastime, I know.

As a part of the workshop I had to essentially explain to the students who I am, what I do, how that’s relevant to Geneseo, and how I got to where I am. And you know what? That was much more difficult than I expected.

At this moment in my career, these are the titles that I can, and generally do, give myself:

Composer-Lyricist/Librettist (technically 3 titles?)

Performer (Musical and non-Musical Theatre)

Musical Director

Vocal Coach

Accompanist (I do this less often)

Arranger/Orchestrator (though mostly my own material these days)

One of the Geneseo students said “You do so much!” and I guess that’s true. But I think the better question is, how the heck did I learn to do all of these things?

Broadway Standard

The one area from the above list where multiple straightforward and comprehensive paths of education exist is performance.

The theatre as a whole has always recognized that performers are necessary to train in large numbers since shows and theaters exist all over the place with roles that need filling. And performing is the most visible aspect of theatre, which makes it a great entry point for those interest in the business. So plenty of paths exist for people to become performers, and I won’t bore you with the details of mine. Everyone has their own stories on this one.

The other item on the list that is fairly straightforward, though certainly less common than performance, would be accompaniment.

***Quick PSA***: Someone who accompanies is called an ac-com-pa-nist. Not an ac-com-pa-NEE-ist, or any other version. Not a crucial thing to know, but I figured I’d throw it out there :-)

Usually the story I hear from pianists is that they were, at one time in their early life, cornered by some teacher or choral director or other and told they should play piano for a choir, jazz group, or school musical. And thus was born another accompanist.

For me, it was basically the same. My piano teacher told me I should, my choral teacher lost their previous student accompanist, and thus I was tagged for the job!

Where I diverge a little is that I found out I really enjoyed playing musical theatre songs for my friends, and started wanting to be better at it. So I made a point of finding all of the musical theatre music that I could in books and scores, sitting down, and attempting to play it. This is a pastime I continue today, and it has made my skills as an accompanist must stronger - so I would recommend this to anyone looking to hone this particular skill.

Barely Knowing Left From Right

My time at SUNY Geneseo ended up being quite crucial to the accidental development of two other items on that list: musical direction and vocal coaching.

Because I was already a pianist and accompanist, something that was well known by the beginning of my Junior year, I was tapped to be the Musical Director of one of our a cappella groups (and eventually the other as well). I knew from watching previous MDs that the basics of this job was to simply teach notes, but that the good ones could do oh-so-much more. And I wanted to be a good one.

(Anyone surprised? You may have gathered from my blogs thus far that I’m a little competitive about being good at what I do… :-D )

So I went to it. I learned by watching what others did, listening to my favorite arrangements and performances, and started trying things out. It was a lot of trial by fire. But soon I figured out what worked and made the music better, and what to avoid. I had already been arranging for the two groups for over a year at this point (something that I was allowed to just try and found I could do fairly well), so I had some sense of what I was doing. So I took the knowledge I had, added it to the skills I already possessed, and created a new skill set.

Was it perfect right away? Ohhhhhh no. It took me plenty of time to figure it out. But by my Senior year I was comfortable calling myself a Musical Director of both a cappella and musical theare.

As for the vocal coaching, this came from my accompaniment skills as well.

We had a club at Geneseo called MTC (Musical Theatre Club - nailing that name, right?) for which everyone would always stress about auditions each semester. So, being one of the 3-4 pianists in the club, I was often asked by people to help them prepare for their auditions by choosing songs and creating cuts. I found that I was naturally inclined toward this work - something I’d probably not have known if I hadn’t just tried it.

Then, in my later college years, I started gaining the confidence to give some vocal notes to people. I had zero reason to think I had any authority in this matter, but from what I was seeing and hearing I thought I might be able to help.

As it turns out, I was right.

With not an ounce of training (not something I’d really recommend) other than my own vocal training, I found that I had a natural ability to help people adjust their voices. And then of course I wanted to know more, so I began doing my own research and self-education. By the time I left college, I was well on my way to being able to do this sort of work professionally. And now, since it’s how I make the majority of my living and because it’s also an ever-changing field of study, I continue to educate myself on new techniques and styles.

But I’d never have known I could even do this if it hadn’t fallen into my lap and, more importantly, if I hadn’t decided to take the risk and try.

We Pull Our Bootstraps Up

And then we come to the remainder of the list: Composer-Lyricist, Librettist, Orchestrator.

It has been said that “failure is the best teacher,” and in my personal case of these above skills, I must agree.

If I had no business being a Musical Director or Vocal Coach, I had even less business writing music or words for the theatre. I mean, what experience did I have?

None. Not a bit.

Sooooo…?

I love creating. I’ve always loved creating. I had dabbled in some music writing when I was in grade school and did some light composition as part of my Music Theory class in high school - absolutely loving it - but that was the extent of my composition experience. And never had I written a play! I wrote a 5-minute piece once at the NYSSSA Theater Program, but it was terrible and I never tried again.

Until Geneseo, that is.

Playwriting was being offered as a class in my Junior year, so I decided to take it. I had loved my Creative Writing classes in the English Department, but I really longed to write for the stage. So I took it. And I was terrible.

Oh boy, I couldn’t write a play to save my life. And I certainly did try.

I understood the mechanics and the theory and the basics of what to do, but the best thing I could come up with was a murder-thriller spoof called Clue-less, which was actually an out-of-class pet project. It was fairly funny and had some nice dramatic moments, but it still wasn’t good. After getting a solid B- on my final assignment for the class I said that was it for me and playwriting. No more. But then I thought…

What about Musical Theatre? I’m certainly more inclined to writing music than a script…

So, to try out this idea, I decided to take Oscar Hammerstein II’s advice to Stephen Sondheim and attempt the exercise of adapting a play that I admire into a musical. Not for the world to see, necessarily, but for myself and to learn.

The play I chose? A Streetcar Named Desire. I love me some Tennessee Williams, and the high theatricality of the style seemed ripe for some music additions. And best of all, I didn’t have to write the book, just adapt.

I spent 4 weeks over the summer trying my hand at finding song moments, writing in character voices, adapting dialogue into lyrics (though without much structure), and composing a world that sounded like these characters. I tried to tell their stories, moved the action forward, and give a hint of New Orleans. And you know what? It was pretty damn good for a first attempt.

I was encouraged. I decided to be bolder for the second go-round and write an original musical as my Honors Project at Geneseo. Due to some college politics, the project could only be approved if I wrote the book, music, and lyrics, as well as stage the entire thing in my second semester acting as musical director, director, and producer. Certainly a tremendous undertaking - and the point of this was to scare me off - but again I said yes. Bring it on.

Thus a musical - and mediocre one at best - called PICk Love was born. I did all that was asked of me, and an audience of ~300 people ended up seeing it over two performances at the end of my Senior year. I had even gone through the process of learning how to orchestrate in a direct study (since I wasn’t wearing enough hats already) and continued to work on the show after graduation.

Loooooong story short, I was hooked. I wanted to learn more, and correctly now. So I auditioned for the BMI Lehman Engel Musical Theater Writing Workshop. Didn’t get in fully, but only as an auditor. Said yes. Met some amazing people and some of my best friends. Re-auditioned the next year. Got in. Said yes again. Met more amazing people, including one of my current collaborators and best friends. Learned so much. Got a ton better. Wrote and re-wrote The King’s Legacy. Met more incredible people. Kept saying yes.

We Live And We Learn

Most of the things on my list are skills I received no formal education for. In fact, there aren’t a lot of ways to receive a formal education in some of them. And this thing I had no idea how to do, let alone whether or not I could actually do it, is now one of the main parts of my career. But how did I get here?

Everyone has skills, whether from natural ability or because they’ve been honed. Everyone has interests and passions, even if they’re mostly unexplored. And, if you want, these things can come come together to create new skills and pathways that you previously may not have known existed. All you need to do is try.

Try and fail. Try again. Dislike you work. Research. Watch and listen and learn. Try and fail again. Like a little of what you’ve created. Reignite your passion when necessary. Continuously hone your skills. Try again. Fail. Succeed. And most of all, just say yes.

1 note · View note

meetnombre · 5 years

Text

I promised myself that would keep this blog sfw. That I would fill it full of things that would make many other people happy and to help them escape from the outside world. It was supposed to be my little corner of the web that would be free from real world politics. I guess, today is finally that time where I have to break that promise.

The whole thing started just as Hasbro released the last episode of the first season of My Little Pony. I discovered it all at once when I marathoned through the first season. For 6 months afterwards, I have been following the pony fandom with a passion, but from a distance. Checking out other peoples art, lurking in forums, sending anon messages to other people’s tumblrs. That kind of stuff. (what can I say? To this day, I am still a bit of a social outcast)

It wasnt until one fateful day when I came across a certain someone’s tumblr blog through another person’s livestream. Not gonna mention any names (SilverBlaze! XD), but anyways! It was through this person’s tumblr that I was encouraged very strongly to introduce myself to someone from the fandom for the very first time. What pretty much happened was that I whacked this awesome guy an anonymous donation through his paypal associated with his new tumblr. What immediately happened afterwards was that his OC absolutely freaked out. Maybe I shouldnt have anonymously sent the post: “Here! Have a bag of free money!” as an anon...oh well XP This person helped me to muster the courage to create an online identity that I could use to interact with the fandom a lot better. He drew me my very own pony! (I still remember the livestream, where Silver started drawing “nombre” without a reference…remember the “meet nombre” image that used to be at the top of my tumblr? That was a modified screenshot of what Silver actually drew for me XD. He then scribbled it out, and began drawing my very own nombre! He asked me if I wanted nombre to be a boy or a girl, as he already started to draw long eyelashes for nombre. I was like “Nombre is a boy! NOMBRE IS A BOY!”, and he quickly removed the eyelashes after that X) ). I eventually took my brand new oc, created my very own tumblr…but then decided to wait until a better time to reveal my tumblr, as I kind of accidentally got Heart Lift, Sparks, and Toast Lift to swap bodies on purpose XP

But yeah! Finally went public with my tumblr, and eventually met someone else (Kappa! XP). I visited quite a few of her livestreams (when silver wasnt streaming, obviously XP), and we just…talked. We caught up with each other so much…we really gotta catch up with each other some more. But what happenned eventually was that Kappa invited me to a group chat where Silver and so many other awesome people got to hang out with each other. I met so many idols of my time and so many new faces, all of which soon became mutual friends. I literally felt like one of the richest people on the planet. I even met someone (Andie!), who soon became my girlfriend!

I still remember bits and pieces of the first group voice chat that I had with this group. One of the guys first impressions was “Is this guy serious?” (Kaipo XP), and “I’m more concerned that this guy works with live explosives for a living” (Rainboom XD)

It didnt last forever. Nothing lasts forever. One of my close friends from that group was forced to leave because he kept on getting anonymous hate from someone else. He didnt know who it was, so he was about at that stage where he was going to shut himself off from ‘everyone’. Good job anon! Good job! *slow clap*

I remember very well the time when that group that helped me with my depression got themselves a new certain member. Things were all good for a while…until that certain member made a techno remix, and asked the group as to what they thought of it. The problem was the title that he chose for it, as it was completely unrelated to the music itself, completely unnecessary, and pretty offensive to a lot of people (I’m pretty sure it was something like “Retarded Austistics” or “Autistic Retards” or something simular…..yeah…). That person was eventually removed from the group, but there was a bit of mayhem in the process, as ‘every single member of the group had moderator powers’. The incident served as a wakeup call to the group, so what happenned was that everyone was disbanded from the old group, and a new group was established…

…but here’s the thing. Not everyone was allowed into the new group. There was one person, who apparently the slim majority at the time decided that they didnt want in the new group. A lot of dramas happened since this event, but this particular separation in my opinion was a pretty big deal, as she was kind of a big part of the group at the time, and a big part of my life.

So! The one big group of people who meant so much to me ended up splitting into 2 separate groups. I stayed silent about the whole thing since then, hoping that someday maybe everyone will let bygones be bygones, because we were all friends once. Instead the opposite happened. Years later, a lot of people started forgetting each other. I could have been more proactive at the time to try and preserve what we all had, but I was worried about hurting someone in the process. I didnt know what to do.

My girlfriend broke up with me, and it was pretty much my fault. After being together for 3 months, she approached me and said that she needed some time apart...and I absolutely flipped my shit. I ended up saying a ‘lot’ of stupid shit that sent her into an absolute chronic panic attack. This drove her to the point where she told me straight up that I was no different from any of the other horrible people in her life. I felt like a real asshole when she said that. I said a lot of things that I shouldnt have said that day.

I was very fortunate to still have her as a friend after all of that. ‘Very’ fortunate.

It was about 3 months after this however that she decided to close her tumblr and delete her skype. She told me that she found happiness outside of this world that she built up. Over 2 years passed since she sent me that post, 2 years that she went missing. That’s long enough to legally declare anyone dead (not kidding either. After all of the low’s that she had been through, my mind was really starting to wonder into some pretty dark places as to what might have happened to her. I was so scared). But everything was okay! I actually got a message from her after all of those years from her telling me that she was doing very well and has settled down with someone else.

All I wanted was the best for her and for her to be happy. Nothing has changed. Even if is with someone else, I dont care. She ‘is’ happy, and she ‘is’ doing what is best for her, and thats all that matters. Hell, I’d approach this guy and shake his hand if it wasn’t for the fact that it would probably make things awkward for everyone XD

But as for me, I’m stuck. I dont really know what to do with myself anymore. When you give someone your heart and things dont work out, most people would get over it. Most people would have found a rebound relationship right now or something, but I guess I’m just not like most people. It’s not just because of my past, but its also because of my toxic present and future. I work in a workplace that can be pretty toxic at times. It’s like, you go back to work after your rostered days off to be meeted by ‘many’ old fashioned people who ask you inappropriate questions like “Hey Nombre! Did you get a root on break?” or “Hey Nombre! You should go get a hooker! You might like it!” over and over because they think its funny to do so, it just puts me off so much. I’m fine as I am! I dont mind being single, even if its for the rest of my life...but there are a lot of people out there who think its okay to treat other people like shit because they are ‘different’, when in reality, my workplace is full of old dirty perverts.

Meanwhile, I’m hardly ever online anymore. Every time I do manage to return to eavesdrop on everyone, it feels like everyone is just becoming more and more isolated from each other. I saw a post on ‘that’ group from someone who said that they wondered what I was up to, to which someone else replied that I pretty much only use tumblr now...and that really hurt me a lot. I cant blame them for thinking that way though, given that I hardly appear anymore. I deserved that.

Every time I look into my tumblrs past posts, I always have dramas. This was supposed to be a place of fun, but because the peak of my tumblr career involved the misadventures between myself and my ex and a certain red horse, looking back always brings up a lot of repressed memories.

I dont want to quit tumblr. But at the same time, I dont want to keep going. I dont know what to do. I really wish that things could have been like they were back in the first quarter of 2013. I liked that.

Over 5 years since then, and I dont know how to move on. I really dont.

#vent #Wall of text #I'm sorry

4 notes · View notes

tiedtogetherwithadagger · 6 years

Note

any first kiss sterek recs?! :) Thank you!

Hi sweetie!! Thank you for your everlasting patience, I know it’s taken me ages to respond. I love first kiss fics so I kiiiiiinda got away from myself here lol. Hope you like these!

Is It Cool if I Hold Your Hand? by HalfFizzbin (G 2k)

“So,” says Sheriff Stilinski, raising one eyebrow. “You decided not to play video games at Scott’s, after all?”

“Uh,” Stiles says. His eyes are wide and caught-out, and he’s got his arms wrapped around two giant tubs of popcorn. Beside him, Derek Hale—the same Derek Hale that the Sheriff last saw in his interrogation room—is handing a $20 bill to the cashier and clearly trying to appear as casual as possible. He fumbles the change three times before he gets it into his pocket, though, so it’s a lost cause.

Wake Up and Smell the Unavoidable by uraneia (T 3k)

“I’ll bring it to the cleaner’s and give it back to you,” Stiles said, and then Derek didn’t see his jacket for three weeks and just assumed Stiles forgot all about it.

Only then he does bring it back and, well. It doesn’t smell like smoke anymore, that’s for sure. It holds a weeks-old sort of chemical scent, he assumes from wherever Stiles brought it to be cleaned, so faint Derek would hardly notice if he weren’t looking for it. Under that, a hint of Derek’s own scent. All overlaid with a whole lot of teenage boy. Like Stiles threw it on the ground and rolled around on top of it for a year or so.

Stiles keeps scent-marking Derek, and it's going to drive Derek crazy.

"Five Days in Detention" (A Future Song by Stiles Stilinski) byalisvolatpropiis (3k)

It’s still preseason, sure, but he needs to be practicing. He led the team to the State semifinals last year, and he’s determined to not only make it to the finals this year, but to win the title. He should be on the field right now, practicing his play calls and prepping for next week’s season opener against Saint Pius.

And he can’t do that if he’s wasting his time in detention with these losers. There are a couple of burnouts lazing over some seats by the window, one kid with his face on a desk, hood over his head, and a few Goth kids are sitting in the back corner, looking surly and morose. Maybe you wouldn’t be so miserable if you didn’t listen to such shitty music, he thinks, turning towards his usual seat in the back of the room.

He pauses for the briefest of moments when he sees who’s already sitting there, in the second-to-last row, black-clad limbs spread out, acoustic guitar in his lap, long fingers casually plucking at the strings.

Stiles Stilinski.

Sunshine (Walking On) by JenNova (T 5k)

Derek Hale has a good day. (There is ice cream.)

Kiss Me Under the Light of a Thousand Stars by alisvolatpropiis (5k)

“It was a true love spell,” he admits quietly. “It was supposed to help me find my true love. And apparently I suck at magic as much as I suck at dating because I screwed this up too.”

~~~

In which Stiles' Valentine's Day love spell goes very wrong.

Or perhaps very right.

Lost on You by TroubleIWant (T 5k)

Stiles is the sheriff of Beacon Hills, and Derek's an inveterate cattle hustler better known as The Outlaw Derek Hale. It's a shame he's so goddamn pretty, then.

Full Count, Bases Loaded by eeyore9990 (T 5k)

Playing in the minors, just one phone call away from having every dream come true, means Derek has no time for distractions, no time for fun. He has to bring his A-game every day, during practice and game nights equally. The coaches are always watching and he needs that next ringing phone to be the one calling him up to the majors. He'll have fun when he's catching for the Mets.

But then Stiles Stilinski gets picked up to pitch for the Las Vegas 51s and…

Derek has never had so much fun getting distracted.

Illuminated by ZainClaw (T 5k)

"Because I'm falling in love with you and it's scaring the hell out of me."

I'm No Actor, I Never Was by woodlands (T 5k)

“The New Derek Hale: He Yodels, He Jumps Around to Music!” is the tagline Stiles sends him, after which he’d written: “seriously tho you’d make a killing, people would come to see u sing, hahahahah.”

“Nobody would come to see me jump off the Garnier onto a damp rag,” Derek mutters, feeling sorry for himself.

The Accidental Alpha by maiNuoire (T 7k)

When Stiles goes away to college, he finds a new group of supernatural friends (because of course he does) much to the chagrin of his dad and Derek. It turns out he's pretty good at leading a group of werewolves--and a witch!--through the trials and tribulations of freshmen year.

The truth about love (comes at 3 AM) by Finduilas (E 10k)

When the pack gets locked in at Derek’s new loft during a snowstorm, they play ‘truth or dare’ to pass the time.

Inevitability (About Damn Time) by accordingtomel (E 10k)

“So?” Scott says.

“So?” Stiles sputters, kicking his shoes into the corner and locking the front door behind him. He’d whipped out his phone the second he’d pulled up to the house, and miracle among miracles, Scott actually answered. Of course, he’s not so pleased about that now. “My dad thinks Derek and I are dating, Scott. Did you miss that part?”

The asshole actually has the audacity to laugh. As if this is somehow hilarious to him. Worst best friend ever. “No, I didn’t.”

“This is not funny, Scott.”

“Yeah, it actually kind of is, though.”

28 Days by mountain_ash (M 11k)

Stiles convinces Derek to join a psych study with him. Only hitch? They have to pretend they're a couple.

#sterek #sterek fic rec #sterek fic recs #sterek fanfic #first kiss #my fic recs #nonnie #asks #answered

75 notes · View notes

officialthiamlibrary · 6 years

Text

Welcome to another profile on Behind the Screens, giving you personal insight on who your favorite creators are and what they do when they aren’t wowing you with their creative ability.

On this profile, we’ll learn more about Tagan, also known in our pack as ThiamFresh or CaptainMintyFresh. The author of Airplanes, Sweet Talking, and a plethora of other Thiam prompts and stories, Tagan shares bits about her life, her writing process, her ideal road trip buddy, and her tips for creating tension-filled relationships.

Hi, Tagan! Let’s start off simple. Using a sentence, where the word count is either equal to or less than the number of letters in your two favorite Teen Wolf characters’ name, tell us about yourself.

Theo Raeken + Derek Hale = 19: I’m Tagan. Love to write and act. I have a terrible sense of humour. Generally an accident prone mess.

Talking about Teen Wolf characters, which five characters would be on your Ultimate Paintball/Laser Tag team and why?

Theo, Malia, Allison, Liam, Stiles. Right, so I want Theo because like boy’s a master tactician/manipulator and he’s ruthless. Boy would 100% shoot 10 year olds to win and that’s the kind of person I want on my paintball team. Malia, again, she would have no qualms about just decimating the other team. Allison because she is an amazing shot; her role would be stealthing her way through the field to take people out/sniping everyone else while the ‘ground team’ does the closer stuff. Liam because he’s athletic and competitive. Stiles because he’s good at coming up with plans, plus...you know..he’d be really good bait for the other team.

Omg he would be! Now, before those characters blessed us with their existence, we found love and OTPs in other ones. What would you say were your first ships, way back in the day?

I’m not sure if this counts but Ant and Dec? I thought they were married but if not, then Monica and Chandler or Spike and Buffy. The first fanfiction I read was for Dramione.

And, how did you land in the Thiam Family? What about Theo x Liam drew you in?

I really liked their scenes in 6A (And some of the scenes in 5 but honestly, I hated five as a whole and watched it out of duty more than anything so I just didn’t have the enthusiasm to get into a ship.) Theo was the first bit of 6A that i actually really liked and a lot of that was just down to his sass and a lot of it was directed at Liam. And then the car key scene had me cackling with laughter. There scenes were just..fun in a way the rest of the season lacked, at least to me. So I was pretty invested in their whole dynamic and then there was ‘Being the bait’ and ‘do you know how to ride a horse’ and I was pretty sold. I went to search for Thiam content then but didn’t find any so just went back to writing the fics for other fandoms I was doing then and didn’t really mind.

But then 6B came out and the second I saw Theo on screen I was thinking “wow i can’t wait for him to see Liam and realised I was a bit more sold on them than I had planned to be and so I searched the tag again and went onto AO3 and read the few fics there but there really weren’t many.

I’d gotten stuck on all the fics I was doing for other fandoms and so put up a request for prompts and Thiamkey gave me a bunch of headcanons and prompts and then people seemed to like them and started sending them in and then I just...talked to people and they were all lovely and we had all this amazing content coming out every week from the show and more people climbed aboard the ship. More fics being written, more prompts being sent.

Honestly, i just wanted to dip my toe in the water, write a fic or two while I waited for other people to write their own but then i suddenly found myself up to my neck in Thiam and not regretting a second of it.

Let’s jump into writing. Before we dive into the Thiam pool, if your writing process was a person, describe him or her. What does he or she do? Wear? Listen to?

My writing process as a person would probably be a toddler in a room full of toys but instead of playing with them, she just hiding under furniture and has five different conversations with five different imaginary friends at one time. She’s messy, with chocolate ice cream smeared over her face and her hair tangled into nots. She has no real idea about what’s happening but is excited none-the-less. Will have constant tantrums and cry then be excitedly squealing in the next second. ACDC would be playing in the background.

And your writing Kryptonite? How do you fight it?

Procrastination. I’m really bad at focusing on any one thing. Like, if i’m watching a new episode of a show, I’ll play solitaire in the corner of the screen because otherwise, I’m too unfocused to be focused. If that makes any sense. So when I’m writing I have to have a conversation open with someone or have just done a puzzle or something that’s fried my brain a bit so I can focus on writing, but I often end up getting too focused on the other thing and not getting any writing done.

As for how to fight it, I honestly have no idea? I just kinda flit around and hope for the best.

Well, clearly it works for you, so cheers! Do you write novels or short stories about original characters, as well? If so, can you share one you’re particularly passionate about?

Yes i dooo :) I write books. So I’ve written three so far and have like 12 in the works. (There’s a YA series in there which is why there’s so many) um..I’m not sure what i’m particularly proud of so i’m just pasting the first scene I found in my emails which is a scene from a zombie book I wrote called Autumn

Autumn Excerpt:

Sometimes I could forget, for a moment. When the sun was high in the sky and we were strolling through an open field. Weapons held loose in hand, rucksacks tossed over single shoulders. When we were throwing a bottle of water between us, talking about now pointless things, sharing stories and silly jokes. Laughs etched onto our faces as we'd forget all about it. About the past months and the horror we've seen, the people we've lost.

But then a stray would stumble into the field or we’d hear a distant scream and it would come rushing back. Hands quickly going back to locked tightly arrowed our weapons, smiles slipping from our faces.There were also times I couldn't forget, not even for a second. When we lay on rough roof tops, looking up at the dark sky willing to sleep, to get lost in a dream but I could hear it, the scratching of nails against brick, the snap of teeth hitting together and the low, guttural moans. At these times I’d think, this will be the last sound I ever hear. The huffing of the dead, the wet slapping and slurping as they tore and chewed on flesh.

On these nights I’d try to comfort myself, Say that that nightmare sound wouldn't be what I heard, I prayed for a gunshot, dreamed of that rather than the sounds bellow me. Because, these days, you go out one of two ways and a gunshot was everyone's silver lining.

When you mentioned YA series, my back straightened haha. What’s the title of your series? A synopsis for what it’d be about?

Oh god, so the longest one I have to find a new title to because it’s called Gifted and is about people with superpowers and now there’s that The Gifted show out about people with powers so that’s a bit awkward.

Me and my friend wrote a webseries when we were like 14/15 and although we only filmed a tiny bit of it, we actually had the whole thing planned out. Three seasons, 40 episodes and when we stopped working on it I was like “dude can i turn this into a book series?” and he was like “Yeah go ahead.” So I started writing a bit of it.

Gifted follows the story of three childhood friends as they get powers and deal with all the usual coming of age stuff while getting caught up with other people with powers. The first book will be done in alternating POV between the three friends, but that will slowly expand to incorporate the more important characters met along the way.

There’s lots of whump, teenagers dealing with depression and PTSD. Basically i tried to write a new fairly light hearted story about kids coming of age and dealing with typical super power problems, but then accidentally put them through the ringer and turned it into a mass of character study and angst.

Final question before the barrage of Thiam questions lol. Characters often find themselves in situations they aren’t sure they can get themselves out of. When was the last time you were in a place like that and what did you do?

The last time I found myself in a situation I couldn’t get out of was this summer and I cried a lot and then made scathing jokes to the reasons I couldn’t get out of the situation with a sunny smile that left the situations unaware that I was trying to figure out how to word a letter that told the situations they need never situate themselves anywhere near me ever again. (I have yet to send those letters.)

Wow, yeah, I’ve been there before. I hope you find the strength/courage to send those letters one day. Since we’re talking about personal experiences, would you say that any of your life has poured over into your Thiam writing?

The only one I can currently think of is the scene in Sweet Talking where Theo’s tired and listening to Liam, Mason and Corey hang out and thinking about how he’ll never really fit in.

My brother had a bunch of friends round before I wrote that chapter, or at least that part of that chapter. I moved away from my home town/all my friends (there’s literally 1 friend but whatever) 3 years ago and haven’t made any friends since. My brother keeps telling me his friends can be my friends but I‘m always the odd man out and it’s just really lonely so I was definitely channeling some inner loneliness into that.

Let’s say you could escape it all and venture on a major Airplanes-esque road trip. Who would you take (real or fictional)? Where would you go? And what is one shenanigan the two of you would run into?

The Queen. I just think it’d be really funny, not to mention you could get in like everywhere for free.

Honestly I think if the queen wasn’t available, I’d want to go with @thiamfanartlove. We’ve only been talking a little while, but we get on really well and I feel like we’d be equally ready to do a bunch of dumb stuff on our journey. I’d want to go around Europe. Hit up @thiamkey on the way and a few other people.

We would 100% get into a fight at some point because neither of us have any chill. Like, someone would insult one of us and the other would just be down to fight and then it would turn into an all out brawl with us against the world. (We would lose, but it’d be a good story, at least.)

Truth. And one story we’d demand all the details on. You’ve talked a lot about some trivia, inspirations and spoilers for Airplanes in your livestream, which are linked here. So, my questions to you are more about the technique side of your writing, since it’s always amazing to learn from you all.

You incorporate great character studies into your stories. What would you say are some tricks you use to portray what your characters are thinking?

I think, just finding a way to resonate with the character you’re writing. Even if it’s a character you think you have nothing in common with, I promise you somewhere there’s a memory you have that fits something they’ve felt.

Liam’s POV was really weird to me at the start of airplanes so I chose to focus on something I could personally understand. Which was the need for freedom but anxiety at what it might cost the other people if you take it and that..kind of self hatred for the anger issues and wishing everything could change. You find a common thread and write that and soon enough you find yourself understanding the character, even in situations or with feelings you’ve never personally been affected by.

I don’t know if that makes any sense? But basically yeah, find common ground and that one scene you can write and then work from there.

And, the tension between your characters. How do you build that tension when it comes to relationships to avoid the instalove phenomenon?

ANGST! I dunno, the easiest way for me to slow down the instalove is the characters being more preoccupied with other stuff than their love lives. I think just..keeping it as real as possible. In my personal experience, love at first sight is rare. You can’t fall in love with someone until you know them so a lot of it is just..giving the characters these little moments that bring them closer together, making them have those conversations that you’d have with your best friend and just slowly drawing closer and closer together as you get more comfortable. Especially in Airplanes when it first starts Liam’s in a pretty bad place mentally. He’s really drained and feeling the weight of everything he’s been through so his mind was just so far away from romance that it seemed wrong to have him noticing any feelings for Theo until he was a bit happier and had healed a bit. Not to mention all the baggage the two have.

Having a character go through that process of questioning their sexuality is fun as well. I mean, Liam so far in canon has been written as straight and that’s a lot of fun to play with because you have that whole realisation process where he has to figure out that what he feels for Theo isn’t entirely platonic and that it’s different from how he feels about Mason or any of the other guys in the show and that can be a really challenging thing to do. Not even in the ‘Oh coming out is scary’ way just in the heteronormative straight until proven otherwise sort of way.

I mean i’m Bi and that took me like...21 years to realise? And it wasn’t that I didn’t have little crushes on girls before it was just I’d never noticed them for what they were. For me the only reason it clicked was because I realised I was Asexual and that my ‘well I don’t want to bone a girl so I’m not gay’ was kinda pointless thing when I realised that I didn’t even want to bone guys. It was just what was expected. Once I took that away and sat down and thought about it, it was suddenly very clear to me. But most characters won’t have that specific nudge so it can be a fairly long road.

Just, to stop instalove think about what they’re going through, think about how you fall in love because the realisation may be instant but the build up is usually gradual. You notice it in one dumb moment but to actually get there, you have a long list of bits where you get to know the other person and you deal with your own personal issues and stuff.

For building tension, it’s again just building up that relationship. You start off small with touches that make the heart speed up before they’re more comfortable and grow closer. Honestly, the best way is just to focus on the friendship first and the romantic relationship second because then you get the familiarity and that’s when you can start having your characters realise there’s something else there and that suddenly makes all these little touches a lot more terrifying and confusing as they try to figure out what it means.

That’s perfect though. And the gritty realization that most people have about those they’ve fallen in love with since they’ve usually gotten close to that person by that point is terrifying and emotional, so I can now see where that tension comes from! Anything else you’d like to say, in general. The floor is all yours.

Umm okay. I am always accepting prompts but it willlllll take me a while to get to them because i have quite a few and don’t really go chronologically but more where the inspiration hits and sometimes, like with airplanes, that’s my own story rather than a prompt but my ask box is always always open for more prompts.

Upcoming works, I have no idea. Right now, I just want to finish airplanes and then see where I go after that. I do want to play around in the airplanes universe a little bit more after the fic is done with, delving into Theo’s POV for some of the missing scenes and I also might do a short pack scene where you have everyone realise Theo and Liam are gone in the morning in Idaho.

The reason I like sharing my work is because I like the idea that maybe I can help someone and maybe that sounds dumb--but to me--reading is a major escapism technique. I used it a lot when I was younger and this fic and the comments I’ve gotten have just made me so insanely happy because it seems like, maybe for a few people, I’ve reached my goal in helping someone through a bad day or to relax and just forget their worries for a while. And that’s the whole reason I like writing and that’s the first time I’ve ever really felt that and I literally cried when someone told me my updates helped their shitty week before because...that’s the whole reason I want to get into writing or acting as a career and to see I’d achieved that goal was just awesome.

If you’ve sent me a nice message on tumblr and I haven’t replied, it’s not because I didn’t read it or I don’t like it or whatever you might think. It’s because i’m a hoarder and now have a folder wth screen shots of all the nice messages in it, so that I can look at them when I’m having a nice day.

Really, I just want to say that I see everything you guys send or make or comment and I appreciate every single one and just thank you. Life’s been tough for me lately but getting to write for a fandom as accepting and kind as this one is really really amazing and your messages have picked me up when I’ve felt worthless so many times. Just keep being awesome Thiam fandom! And thank you for being so welcoming and supportive of everyone that joins.

Aww thank you! We’re so happy to have you in our fandom and to have Airplanes, your prompts, and other stories. I, and others have shared the same sentiment, agree with you that this fandom is amazing and so supportive of one another that it almost seems surreal! So, go us, lovely pack!

To finish us off, what’s next for you? Both in life and in the writing world?

For life, I’m hoping to get some acting roles for student films and stuff. Get myself a laptop so I can write more and a camera (eventually) so I can film the scripts I’ve wrote. I also want to send some of my books to publishers and generally try to make a life for myself out of the two things I love doing.

I have a bunch of books I’m working on and I really want to finish writing my YA series because it seems like it could be quite fun once I get a bit more into it.

With that, BTS presents ThiamFresh to you! As always, you can keep the conversation going; respond to any of her thoughts, ask more questions, send a prompt, or simply swing by for a chat with Tagan anytime. To dive into her works, check out both her AO3 and Tumblr.

Tumblr: thiamfresh

AO3: captainmintyfresh

Ask Box: thiamfresh ask

A huge thank you to Tagan for being so open to answering our questions and sharing her tips on character stories and building tension.

Some great news, for everyone who enjoys this series, we’ve decided to run Behind the Screens every Thursday. And, we’d love your help in doing it!

Have a Thiam Creator you fan over, from any platform (AO3, Tumblr, Wattpad, Instagram, FFN, etc). Please send us their names. Bonus points if you include any questions you’re dying to ask them. Likewise, if you as the creator, would like to be a part of the Behind the Screens series, give us a shout too! We’d love to get to know you, as well.

Hasta Luego!

#thiam #behind the screens #teenwolf #thiamfresh #officialthiamlibrary

48 notes · View notes