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psalloacappella · 3 years

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SSM21 Day 2. Festival

Pairing: SasuSaku Prompt: Festival Title: sparks will fly, they ignite our bones Tags: AU - Modern Setting; First Dates; Wooing Lips burning against his, mouthing soft words in the detonation din.

(In which Sakura has the better aim.)

Ao3 | twt | full series link | @ssskmonth

“It’sa real date this time.” Each word’s punctuated by Naruto’s fist punching his opposite palm, driving home the importance of this. This being: Street stall smells rich and piquant, a smoky-savory blend; lights flickering in kaleidoscopic, neurotic brilliance; children wild as free foals escaping their parents, weaving in and out of adults’ legs clutching cheap prizes and sparklers —

and him, Sasuke, on an actual fucking date with a woman with cotton-candy-colored locks who has been besting him every game and measure of skill imaginable, and his dumb plus-one buffer, the best friend, now droning on about how he needs to win her something.

“Anything!” Naruto throws his arms up, dramatic and exasperated, the only gearsetting he seems to have. “Teddy bear, ugly fish, keychain — literally any shitty prize to show her yer not a complete waste of time.”

“Sasuke!” Both men snap to, pretending to have been watching the whole time as Sakura jumps up and down, pumping a fist in the air. “I won again!”

With shiny, wide eyes, she places both her palms out in giddy anticipation to receive a stuffed bear donning a baseball cap of the local (terrible) team from a surly booth operator with a permanent frown.

“She’s comin’ this way!”

“I can see that,” Sasuke hisses. “You useless idiot.”

“Did I hear ‘charming wingman?’ ‘Kay, I’m gonna find some food. Give you two some time—”

“Don’t say it—”

“Alone.” Some strange tone aiming for sensual manifests as choking pigeon, and Naruto skips away as Sakura bounds up to Sasuke, smiling so wide he can see every perfect tooth.

“Did you see?” So proud of herself, arms laden with prizes. Some she’s already given away to cute children passing by, perhaps the sole supplier of noisemakers and soft bears. For a doctor in pediatrics, the urge to make smiles comes second nature. “Where’s he going?”

“Food, or something,” Sasuke murmurs, trying not to look as constipated and irritated as he had ten minutes prior — another gem from Naruto’s unasked-for criticism. “He’s left us alone.”

“Finally.” Definitely slipped out by accident, and Sakura grumbles over her mistake, red prickling her cheeks and chest. “Not that I dislike him, of course—”

“I do,” Sasuke says, absolutely deadpan. It takes her a moment.

“Uchiha Sasuke, did you just make your first joke?”

Ears burning in the cool night air, it’s his turn to smother his embarrassment. In lieu of further slip ups, he awkwardly gathers the items in her arms, a mishmash of unidentified thingamajigs and whatnots that you only find in curio shops or carnivals, and gallantly takes on their burden.

“Walk with me?”

So sure his voicebox just sustained a hairline crack; he hates himself for being nervous.

Eyes, hers, brighter than all the psychedelic frenzy swirling around them both, caught up in the haze; she has the uncanny ability to fade the rest to black, toss the entirety of the world’s existence aside.

Seeking to link her arm with his amid the mess of wares won, she succeeds and presses closer.

“I thought I’d die waiting,” she whispers into his sleeve. “I’ve been wanting you to notice me properly all night.”

Meandering, conjoined, down the main road; carved out for the celebration, buffeted by snack scents and other couples, groups of friends, and plenty of pairs pretending they’re still just and only that. Along the way she unloads her many winnings, surreptitious, in part kindly trying to relieve his burden but also calculating the space in her single occupancy apartment.

She watches people and lights, and he watches her.

Sakura’s gaze snags on a particular booth, more specifically a particular prize. Of the stuffed variety.

“Did . . . something catch your eye?” he asks. Immediately thinks he sounds like an idiot. You know how to woo ‘em, and why does his inner voice sound like Naruto’s on this date, goddamn it —

Burying her cheek into his shoulder, she giggles and it threads beautiful, stringed tension in his throat and spine, symphonic, testing its own flex to see if she can orchestrate the rest of him. He wishes he could spin her around, lift her high in some filmesque climax, kiss her in the closing credits.

“Don’t laugh,” she says, “but I love slugs. Adore them, really. Gross, I know!” She raises her free hand and points directly at a giant stuffed slug on a high shelf behind the booth’s counter. “And honestly, I’d likely keep it in my office; the kids would love it.”

Sasuke knows, from what she’s disclosed, that these are sick kids, too. This ancient, gendered mating ritual is unavoidable and he’ll have to rise to the challenge. He must provide. Stupid, because she outstrips his earnings and likely will the rest of their life.

Says it like a throwaway, like no big deal: “I’ll have to win it for you, then.”

The game? Aim. Darts. Doable if he’s sober and with equally (un)talented friends; ranging from Shino the sharpshooter to drunk and stumbling Suigetsu, he’s decidedly somewhere in the middle, but it should be enough raw talent to beat a festival game.

Sakura’s eyes are on him, excited. She dances a little from foot to foot, ready to cheer him on.

Dropping the rest of the prizes on the ground and shoving a fistful of coins at the booth operator, he smirks. Born ready, all those forced childhood sports camps and instrument lessons finessing his hand-eye coordination finally stepping up to the plate.

Imagine failing miserably three rounds in a row, the last one bouncing off the dartboard so violently it narrowly misses the sleepy booth operator. Sasuke grinds his teeth, jaw tight, wishing it’d met its mark.

To Sakura’s credit, she’s completely unperturbed. Almost makes it worse.

She pecks him on the cheek, scoring him through hot and fevered where her lips touch.

“Performance anxiety,” she quips, but her smile isn’t unkind. “Let me give it a try.”

Each dart that lands in the board does so with gusto, embeds itself deep into the sisal cork. As each one hits, Sasuke reflects they might as well be piercing him. The most painful blow is watching her indicate the bluebacked slug, winning it outright without his help, and squeezing it half to death in her arms.

They’re walking again, sans the rest of her prizes — left them for the booth operator, and whatever kids wander his way wanting toys with which to annoy their parents.

“You’ve been so quiet,” she says, shifting her slug under one arm and linking up with him again. Sasuke shrugs against her. “I’m not sure what’s next with us.”

He stops, figures it’s better to rip that bandaid off now, give her an out so he can save some face. Of course they’ve stopped on some coquettishly romantic bridge, arched over the still summer pond, a popular viewing spot for the night’s end fireworks.

She watches him expectantly, searching him with her sharp green eyes.

“What do you mean?” Her question is slow, puzzled.

What he means to say is something gentile. Instead he says, “You’re great at darts.”

She seems to sway, a physical manifestation of being caught off guard. Laughs. “Surprised me too! But you gave my arms a rest, so they were ready to win.” Curls her arm to indicate muscle, grinning.

Steps closer, melting through an unseen veil of personal space. Cherry scent; smoke.

“Could be all the shots you administer.”

“I guess we can call jabbing kids with needles a calling.” Mirroring him, she steps in too, and there’s not so much space between them anymore. “Good practice. You could come around sometime, see my work.”

Another tiny shuffle.

It’s time to break this. Sasuke inhales deeply, letting it out in measured beats. “Sakura—”

“If you’re mad you couldn’t win this for me,” she interrupts, “you’re being silly. I don’t care about that, you know.”

He tilts his head, and in spite of himself his hand wanders, brushing a stray strand of pink out of her face. “Hm?”

“I don’t,” she repeats, and sets her slug down on the wooden bridge. Breathes deeply before saying in a low, threaded voice, “What I care about is all the waiting.”

Sasuke feels it all fall into place. Oh. Oh.

“So come on, Sasuke.”

And before she’s even finished saying his name he’s kissing her, the last vibrations of his name caught on their lips, locked, and though the timing is perfect and picturesque, film archetype material as the fireworks charge the air around them, each one set off drawing ripple designs in the water beneath them, this thrill is unmatched, the way she wraps her arm around his neck to taste him deeper, the way he lifts her up to rest him on his hips and there’s nothing, has never been anything, quite like this.

Real fireworks pale in comparison.

Lips burning against his, mouthing soft words in the detonation din.

“The perfect end,” she whispers, “to a festival.”

#SSM21 #sasusaku #psalloacappella:SSM21

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softer-ua · 3 years

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in regards to what you pointed out a few posts ago, ngl one of my least favorite fandom things is when they make Kaminari the Har Har Stupid Joking ADHD Bi Playboy Who Is Never Serious Trope. like, he's very smart, 'worst in ___ area of a UA course' is very impressive and I don't remember if it even said that or just that he was studying with some other students, worried about his grades overall, calls himself stupid with implied insecurities about it, and didn't think he was very smart compared to the other people in the course. quirk overuse makes him loopy, incoherent, and think everything's funny. and yeah, he's a bit of a flirt and made a few perverted comments and actions that he clearly didn't think through that well. I'm pretty sure he's not ever stated to be bi in the manga because it was written by a coward, so I think people should think more about why they're associating and pairing together the idea of "hot flirty playboy who if legally able would sleep with everyone he meets" with emphasis or joke in the captions of whatever the content is on him being bi. I don't think this is inherently bad, even put together, but the execution feels kind of :/ and shallow. and I mainly just wish they'd pause to consider if there's any reason (subconscious or intentional) why one of those makes them think about the other, and at the very least lean back to see if they're blatantly making those traits centric around each other and tweak how they're showing them a little. Part of this is also because it's basically his fanon sexuality, but then they stick together "oh he's bi and everyone thinks that" and "he's made flirty or perverted comments and actions in canon at some point" and then mentally exaggerate and have this Canon Image of him as *waves hand at above* and I don't think that's happening consciously in most cases but. again. Cookiecutter Bi Party Playboy Who's Made a Date Offer to Everyone In The Building. not a flirty Person or a Playboy who is bi and flirts with more than one genders

I myself headcanon him as adhd and while the exact sexuality depends on my mood I think of/have him as bi in a lot of my content, but it's the same thing with why non adhd people see how he acts and label "adhd!" Especially about comprehension speed and derpy acting and intelligence and attention span jokes/tropes. Again, not bad in and of itself, but the specific parts of his behavior that make them think he's adhd, or that they start making jokes about or Ha Ha ADHD'ing, or that they think is why we project ADHD on him, (which they aren't necessarily wrong about, but like right in a really disrespectful look at how funny this is oh look squirrel way that's only funny when adhd people are doing it and it isn't all mocking like that) when they see other people calling him adhd, are the wrong ones, I think, and it shows in their characterization of him.

I'm not saying that any of those traits are bad in a character, but as a queer adhd girl with very high annual test scores and Gifted Kid Intelligence but extremely poor grades, focus, and brain damage (admittedly nothing like his, it was a longterm passive thing that mainly just made me have a Lot of Really Bad headaches, and closest thing it did to me was make me sluggish and emotional on bad days and also techincally have the potential kill my language bit if left untreated or the surgery messed up, which it didn't, and it won't be a problem again. but even after explaining that it wasn't cancer or any sort of tumor, and after seeing it do very little at all to affect my behavior outside of irritability and performance, because y'know, constant migraines, gone after the surgery but this was before that, Certain People I Was Vaguely Kind Of Acquaintances With started to treat my like I was a fragile glass thing going to to drop dead and revive myself speaking like a comic relief cartoon crazy person at any moment which was. patronizing.) I've since had surgery for, the way the fandom combines them into stereotypes and portrays them really just rubs me the wrong way- "Flirty Bi(tm) Playboy" "Har Har ADHD Can't Focus Or Get Things After They're Explained To Him, He's Still Confused And An Idiot" "Stupid Person With Brain Damage Who Can't Take Care Of Or Think For Themself And Acts Stupid And Funny For People To Laugh At" which tbh is super ableist even and especially when people irl do fit that description, and also reminds me of the Autistic Person Freaking Out And Being Dramatic sense of humor. And I know it's not helped by canon, because it done for comic relief and to limit his powers, but explored more I think it as a limitation could have been used way more interestingly than canon did and also call me biased but that quirk induced brain frying sounds at least as concerning as Izuku's quirk's backlash.

And it's a shame!! Because he's so much more interesting than that! Instead, the fandom gives me the Cookicutter Funny Bi ADHD Flirt Who's An Idiot and I am sad about it.

tbh it reminds me of what happened to percy jackson, esp with the ADHD Idiot Trope thing. which sucks because apparently it originated in the author making up stories around characters like his adhd and dyslexic kid inspired by Greek myths to tell him after running out of actual myths because it was his special interest and he wanted more. and then the series got kind of all over the place and the fandom processed that the adhd and dyslexic main character who does dumb things sometimes but is very combat smart and great at strategizing and leading gets bad grades and has trouble focusing and has, y'know, adhd, and made him the ADHD Idiot and erased his Gifted Kid girl friend's traits and ADHD and dyslexia into No Nonsense Calls Him an Idiot And Thinks He's Stupid And Has To Tell Him What To Do And Manage His Life For Him and honestly that just kind of sucks and it reminds me of what happened to fandom Kaminari. and now that I think of it people have jirou like that around him a lot too.

im fine with you answering this publicly if you want or have something to add but probably tag as ableism and maybe a biphobia mention content warning for people who don't have the energy to deal with thinking about those kinds of negative things rn because I kind of Went Off About It

I love this! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and experiences 💚(and double thank you for tag suggestions)💚

I couldn’t agree more that a lot of fandom has messed up Kami’s character, which is why I’ve kinda been posting more about him cause he’s just stuck in my head.

I think a lot of fandoms have trouble with characters like this, people have a hard time with duality in characters and fast/fun posts are easier to make if you flatten a character down.

The did it to Kami, they did it to Percy, they did it to Ron Weasley, they do it to Thor, the list goes on. If being the Smart One ™️ isn’t your thing and you can be goofy than you get pigeonholed into the idiot trope.

I feel for Kami a lot(probably because I have adhd/brain damage too)

It sucks when you’re smart but it’s not the traditional, measurable kind of smart(even if by national comparison Kami technically is).

I got terrible grades growing up, and I pretty much got the absolute lowest gpa you can get and still graduate. But absolutely no one would have known if I didn’t tell them, because I’m not dumb.

(It’s okay if you are “dumb”, I love me a head empty just vibes friend. You’re 100% valid, stil worthy of joining discussions, and should be listened to and taken seriously. This just isn’t about that tho)

I joke sometimes that I’m clever and witty but not smart, because that’s exactly what it feels like.

I have lots of thoughts and ideas that I think I articulate pretty well, I am excellent at finding the humor in things and expressing it in a way that’s funny to others too, and there is almost zero problems I can’t find a work around. And the people in my life love it, and they love to use it.

But eventually everyone in my life finds out that I’m not smart. They see the way I have to pause to Google how to calculate a tip, that I don’t know the name of all 50 states or even where to find them on a map, or I legitimately just can not spell (if you ever see a post where it looks like I used a weird word choice it’s probably because I tried 4 times and autocorrect+Google couldn’t help me and voice to text wasn’t an option)

No one ever questions my intelligence until they find out about my adhd and/or catch me struggling with it. After the mask comes off it’s like they can’t even hear me anymore, nothing I say could be true or matter because I’m now just the goofy accident prone spacy girl. My family literally calls me Spacy

And ya know what sometimes I just let people think that because it’s easier, it’s easier than explaining that I’m dyslexic and that I didn’t have a single geography/history clas until 10th grade and shocker the capital of Iowa doesn’t come up much by then. And it’s easier for me to laugh off losing my keys again than dwell on the fact that sometimes it feels like I’m losing my marbles.

And I wouldn’t be at all surprised if after this post I get a lot more “fact checkers” and push back on anything else I post.(not talking about people who want to genuinely engage,y’all are always welcome, I’m talking those people who don’t wanna look it up themselves but no longer trust me to know what I’m talking about)

Kami is a sweet brilliant boy. He’s in a nationally high ranking school, he loves the weather channel, he’s careful about his quirk that could easily hurt his friends in combat, he has a very high emotional intelligence level, he wears dorky shirts with electricity puns on them, and he pays attention to his friends and remembers a lot of little things about them.

He wants to be a hero and he takes that seriously, and the series has tried time and time again to tell y’all that smiling and laughter are an important part of that. Kami excels at this part! So what if his history grades don’t rival the top of the class, the top 5 students would struggle hard to do what Kami does.

Iida can’t relax, Momos rather shy, Todo struggles with social cues, Midoriya is canonically not funny, and jfc where to even begin with Katsuki. I’m certain they’ll all grow up to be excellent heros in their own right, but none of them are going to bring the level of joy and camaraderie that Denki can. You can’t test that into someone.

Kami also just notices people differently and has any easy way of joining in with them, he doesn’t struggle approaching Katsuki or Shinso. Sure he doesn’t hit the the nail on the head the same way Deku does but he’s the only one who has the guts and skills to try. Also he’s not that kinda friend, he’s not looking to a save these guys but pal around with them

I think Kami 100% realizes what a special case and tough nut to crack Bakugo is, I don’t think he’s just careless or too dumb realize his life’s at stake or whatever.

I think he’s purposely testing Bakugos boundaries all while trying to not be a threat to Katsukis actual ego and calling Bakugo out when he needs it in a way that not to serious. Kami knows how to be just goofy enough that he’s approachable. He’s also keyed in that the way to Bakugo is through Deku, meanwhile everyone else is stuck believing the opposite.

Kami also realized how important music is to Jiro and saw an opportunity to let her display her skills and combin the two worlds she lives, and he wasn’t afraid to get some back lash from her for it.

Like Deku Kami isn’t afraid to be uncomfortable. You really can’t teach that level of social ease, you can teach the posture and feed people a couple of lines but it’ll never hit the same. Funny approachable people have spent a lifetime learning the craft, usually out of necessity.

It’s actually what gives me the biggest adhd vibes from him, because adhd is (speculated to be) a dopamine deficiency disorder. People with adhd are constantly trying to raise their dopamine levels, and that means looking for praise and reward and nothing makes the human brain light up faster than postative human connections.

Adhd children struggle a lot with connecting with peers and often find making people laugh a fast way into people’s circles and makes it more likely people will overlook being interrupted or spaced out on.

Also adhd people are pretty much forced by their own brain structures to be genuine in all they do, low dopamine levels make it very hard to do things you don’t enjoy because there no promise of dopamine from the activity and you don’t have enough to spare, plus impulsiveness makes it really hard to not show when you do or don’t enjoy something.

I agree that Kami is also painted as overly perverted at times, he’s a little flirty but in a fun casual way but it’s not the foundation of his personality and it’s really mellowed out over the course of the series.

And while I subscribe to the bi hc from his interactions with Jiro and Shinso, we should all be very mindful that we don’t lump these characteristics together. The are separate facets of his personality that are not dependent on each other in anyway.

Kami deserves all the respect and love, I can’t wait to see our electric king again 🖤⚡️🖤

#tw ableism #ableism #tw biphobia #biphobia #softy answers #I have a sorta sad one shot about Kami and his quirks effects #should i post it?

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1dcraftawards · 4 years

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November Author of the Month...

Drumroll please.... our November Author of the Month is none other than the incredibly talented...

@all-things-fic !

Congratulations to a wonderful author, Liz! You can check out our interview with her below!

1.Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

I have one fic that I wrote for One Direction Fanfic Archive, that will never see the light of day. It was really awful, but everyone starts somewhere. I’ve shared it with two people on Tumblr and we just laughed about it.

I’ve also written a Niall Horan fic which has been flagged for how explicit it is, which is quite laughable as it’s tame in comparison to the Harry stuff (eek!)

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

I was a teenager when I first started writing fics. I don’t know if I would consider it “proper” fanfic though as it was riddled with cliches.

3. What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?

For the longest time I was proud of the second part of Divorce Harry and specifically the second part. It just felt real to write. I can’t even explain what it is about that piece.

I think at the time it stemmed from an ask I received where I was asked if I was a parent - I’m not - but this someone said I portrayed aspects of a marriage and how children can tip the balance really well.

The sheer bitterness of two people in love and the juxtaposed feeling it brings was an interesting dynamic. Being bitter and in love? How? It happens. You love someone, but bloody hell don’t you hate at the same time.

And I think on the hand Quarantine Harry is the opposite side of the same coin. I love it because it’s so happy. When you’re smitten and basking. Your baby waking you up at 3am and meeting your husband on the landing with the freshly made bottle is a time to enjoy because you’re doing it together.

But soon enough the third child is sprawled out in your kingsize bed and their foot is pressed against your ribs and you're tired. This isn’t me saying the two stories are linked (I do get those theories quite a lot haha)

4. Do you prefer AU or OU?

Definitely more of an OU gal. I’m massively into writing things “realistically” because I think it’s so relatable and helps draw readers in more so. Especially if the writing uses and references visuals that readers are aware of.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Would we call a long-term relationship / established relationship a trope? If so then this is my favourite. Writing characters who know how to push each other’s buttons, knowing what they can and can’t say to get the other going. Being able to write two people who can share as little as a glance and know what the other is feeling.

Sprinkle a bit of angst on the top for good measure.

That’s my kryptonite.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I tend to write when I’m in bed quite a bit, usually really late at night and on my phone rather than my laptop. Often lying in the dark. Sometimes first thing in a morning.

7. How do you get motivation to write?

This one made me laugh considering I’m unable to finish a single piece of writing at the minute.

Pictures are quite inspiring. New images of Harry can usually start something in me. The images of him in the whacky joggers for example from set have inspired a scene in Quarantine Harry (who knows for which part just yet!).

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Very rarely listen to anything when I write, I tend to like silence really. Sometimes this is so I can dictate into my phone.

9. Your dialogue is some of the best I’ve ever read on tumblr, how do you plan conversations in your fics?

Thank you for the compliment, it’s really nice to read that you think so highly of my dialogue. I don’t really plan them - conversations or my fics. I’m quite visual in how I write, so anything that you’ve read I’ve most likely had it play out in my mind and typed it as it’s moved. For dialogue I tend to speak out loud as I’m typing to try and get the pacing right for the conversation.

No, I don’t try to do a Manc accent… Just in case anyone is wondering haha!

10. What is your writing process like?

I write what I see and then hope it fits. Honestly it’s pretty chaotic. The only time I tend to plan is when I’ve got a lot of different scenes written and I need to know if they’re suitable for an update or what order to place them.

Then I read through them and think about the characters and how they would be a certain time and move the documents into another document. Then I close all the tabs and cry cause my motivation is nonexistent.

11. What’s been your favorite scene to write from Quarantine Harry?

One that hasn’t been shared haha! I’m joking (maybe).

From part one my favourite bit has to be the part where she makes up with him by taking him a cuppa and he gets a dig in about how she hasn’t brought any biscuits with her. Also the bit where he says “come an’ love me” meaning he wants to cuddle. I’m quite conscious I don’t really ever write soppy fics, so when I’m writing “fluffy” aspects they’re more so everyday affections. Like, you know someone is properly in love with you when they’re doing the washing up cause you’re busy, or they’re taking out the bins on bin day. That kinda thing.

From part two absolutely the entirety of the morning where she takes the pregnancy test. That was the part I had as clear as day and I worked backwards to the opening scene. I really loved the idea of Harry knowing his partner is pregnant before said partner knows. Him knowing his lovers body like the back of his hand so much so that he’s able to pick up on the smallest of things. I knew I had to write it.

And how he casually suggested she took the test, by pressing a kiss into her back. His face finding that test and then being an insufferable sod and pleased with himself cause he’s in the know about the outcome before the MC.

12. Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?

So impulsive it’s actually embarrassing. I cringe at myself. I know I’ve mentioned this loads but I really write what I see. So if I’m not seeing anything, I’m not writing. It’s quite frustrating.

13. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing?

To not talk about your writing before you’ve finished it. I feel like I massively let people down when I post sneak peeks and then I can’t deliver because life gets on top of me!

14. What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?

One shots and then if they develop into something more that can be exciting!

15. What's your secret to portraying such a complex and interesting relationship between your main characters??

Personal trauma…… *tumbleweed at another one of my poorly thought out jokes*

I’m a bit stumped on how to answer this one. I think being well read(ish) helps you create complex characters and relationships, not saying that I am but I’ve read a fair few books. Life in general helps too, sometimes personal relationships. Just growing up. My fic when I was younger was nowhere near the type of things I’m writing now but I’ve got a couple (okay, more than a couple!) of years on myself since then.

I think just apply your own lived experiences and call upon emotions you may have felt through certain times that you’re writing should you have experience it.

Partly I also think so many of us are a little bit nosy. Sometimes we all kinda want to be the fly on the wall in the home of couples to see if everything is a rosy as it seems or as intimate. Or whether it is just raw passion with a couple of arguments thrown in for good measure.

16. What Harry era/mood/look/vibe/song/etc. do you get most inspired by?

What’s weird is my favourite era of Harry is 2014, but I wouldn’t want to write him like that. The current Harry is quite marvellous. I’ve never known anyone like him, he really is fine wine (the real album title…. ‘we’ll be a fine wine’)

If you’re asking what mood I like to see him in, it’s either when he's pensive and looks a touch pissed off with a crease to his brow or when you watch his joke his eyes before he’s even said it and he’s amused/pleased with himself.

His current look, mainly late 2019/2020 is quite something (hence the quarantine fics)

I tend not to get inspired by his songs but my two faves if I had to pick would be Woman and TBSL. I think they’re massive Scorpio energy and would make great premises for a one shot sometime!

I’m not sure if I even answered this how you wanted it answer but hopefully it was something haha!

17. Who or what inspired you to start writing?

I’ve always loved writing, I think it’s because I do a lot of it with my line of work. The person that gave me the push on this site was actually an account called @meetyourmouths. The lovely Iz is no longer on tumblr but she wrote a Harry piece that just made me think ‘fuck it’ and I posted Practicing. If you go to that piece the authors note makes mention to Iz.

I would also say @stylishmuser was one of the first people to reach out to me and be encouraging which has always stuck with me. Massive love for, P and still talk to her all these years on.

I’m now sat here thinking about listing all the lovely lovely people who have been so nice to me both in regards to writing and outside of it and I’m conscious I’m not mentioning them. The troubles of being a bit of a people pleaser. Hopefully those people know I love ‘em… You know?

18. Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

First thing I’d say is please don’t ever think as readers you can’t be negative. Sure there is a way to present the feedback to the author cause writing can be quite personal, but everyone has room for growth.

Just come chat to me. Can be about anything and everything. A simple ‘loved the update’ to ‘this bit was rubbish’. I’m open to all feedback.

One thing to remember is there are a lot of writers out there so there is something for everybody. If a fic isn’t for you there are tons out there waiting for you to go and grab ‘em!

19. Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?

I used to think it was mainly more so a hobby, and I do still lean towards this. However, now I’m not so sure. My problem is I tend to have long spells of not being able to find balance in my ‘real life’ job and the extra-curricular stuff.

I’m dragging myself here but I don’t think my fics have much plot to them. I’m more so about writing the everyday life and I don’t think there is a market for that really (unless you have something explosive happen somewhere).

20. And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish?

For a while I wanted to write Harry being insufferably British. I found it quite hard to find writings that I thought wrote him using Britsh-isms (is this even a thing?) and types of phrases that are common over this side of the pond. I wanted to put that out there for someone who may have once felt like me.

Mostly, I just want to put pieces out that take people elsewhere, even if only for a couple of minutes. A lot of the world is a bleak place, if you find my little corner on tumblr and it makes you smile, that’s achieved something, hasn't it?

#author of the month #aom #November2020 #aomnovember2020

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found (Nine)

This Chapter is Rated E for Nekkid! Holla!

Also, some verse-typical internalized homophobia on Tony’s part because of Howards A+ Parenting but don’t worry, he gets over it (and on some d*ck) pretty quick.

MASTERLIST

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

“I’d like to take you to bed.” Tony said it just as quiet as he had the first time, staring down at where his fingers were splayed over James’s leg. “Or I’d like to let you take me to bed, whichever of those things sounds better to you.”

“Are you serious?” James couldn’t scarcely believe it, eyes wide and mouth moving in a fruitless attempt at words. “Why?”

“Why?” Tony’s eyes darted over James’s frame, down to his thigh and then up across his shoulders and finally to his eyes. “I feel like that’s sort of obvious.”

No, it wasn’t obvious. James couldn’t imagine why anyone would ever want to see him like...like that, but especially not someone like Tony. God, he was half hard just hearing the words, just thinking about Tony, but he didn’t dare hope…

“Didn’t you say it took you twenty five years to--”

“--to even admit Rhodey is a fox, yeah.” Tony nodded. “Yeah it did. But it only took like three days to figure this out so if you’re up for it-- and that was an unintended double entendre by the way-- if you’re up for it, I’d like to take you to bed. Or the other thing, the uh-- the other way around. Whichever.”

James was stunned silent and Tony leaned away to rub sweaty palms down his own jeans. “I don’t mean right this second, or even this week. I suppose that sort of thing takes some...preparing… but if you’re interested? Maybe soon?”

“Um.” James swallowed, then swallowed again, his throat clicking desert dry and suddenly parched. “Yeah. Yeah, Tony. Let me know.”

“I...will.” Tony did one of those half smiles that James could never quite read, and changed the subject as if they hadn’t just been discussing James helping him pop the proverbial cherry. “So uh, listen. What I’m going to have J do is modify the arm to accept smaller plates that can adjust and calibrate with every movement so we can avoid anything freezing up. Theoretically the smaller parts could still stick or malfunction but the limb would remain mostly functional until we can get it off and readjusted instead of locking up all the way and hurting, okay?”

“...okay.”

“These aren’t needles or anything.” Tony was talking fast as he held up electrodes and small grounding pads, working to get past the proposition and back to something more normal. “I’m going to set these on your right arm and have you do a series of exercises so J can calibrate your strength, then we’ll transfer it over to the prosthesis and dial it up just a bit to counteract the additional weight. That way your arms are of equal strength and you wont have to strut anymore.”

“Strut?” James asked faintly, still too stuck on Tony wanting to take him to bed to pay much attention. “I strut?”

“To be honest it’s more of a murdery stomping thing.” Tony grinned. “Your left side is so heavy cos of the hardware that you end up walking side to side like you’re on your way to kill someone. Don’t get me wrong it’s sort of a turn on, but I thought you’d like to walk more balanced, blend in a little better.”

“A turn on.” James certainly caught that. “You like how I walk?”

“I said what I said.” Tony tried hard not to blush when James’s eyes lit warm and interested. Sure, he’d expected it to be a little awkward after he announced intentions of sex with his new roomate/ wounded ex soldier that was sort of his last good deed before kicking the bucket, but he hadn’t expected James to be acting so... on board?... with it all.

It almost made him feel shy, shy and young and honestly ridiculous and Tony tried like hell to ignore it so he could still work.

He could handle twenty five minutes of arm calibration and small talk with James without running away.

What was an awkward proposition between friends after a couple decades of internalized homophobia and closet status repression, right?

He could do this.

“So this is the world’s toughest stress ball.” Tony handed James a sphere a size bigger than his palm. “The material is super dense so you might not be able to compress it much and that’s fine. It’s specifically for physical therapy, specifically for measuring muscle recovery after trauma so squeeze at it as hard as you can for twenty second intervals. Give it your best shot and the electrodes on your arm will send all the information to JARVIS.”

James obediently squeezed down, and Tony noted the impressive grip just briefly before clearing his throat and deciding to clear a few things up because the longer James was silent, the worse he felt about springing the conversation on the soldier. A ‘yes’ or even a ‘sure’ when caught off guard wasn’t really a real yes and Tony-- god he didn’t want a halfway yes or a pity yes or anything like that.

Twenty five years of waiting? Damn it, he wanted the real thing.

“Hey.” He bit at his lip a few times as he thought the words through. “About what I said earlier um-- you-- you can say no and there won’t be any hard feelings. Not gonna kick you out or take the arm away or whatever, alright? No harm no foul, it’s not going to change anything.”

James didn’t answer, but the ball compressed to almost nothing in his palm before he remembered to release.

“I think you’re gorgeous.” There it was, out in the open. ��Sort of ridiculously gorgeous, actually. And I uh-- I want you.”

Fuck. Tony closed his eyes, then forced them back open. “I want you. And that’s the first time I’ve ever said that to another guy. Rhodey doesn’t count. So yeah, this is the first time I’ve said it and it feels like a big deal but maybe to you it’s not. Our dance was great and I’d love to do it again but I’d love to do the other thing too and it’s okay if you say no. It’s okay.”

The words were pouring out now, Tony talking faster and faster as the shame and embarrassment caught up to him and made his breath catch. “If this is freaking you out like it’s starting to freak me out please just tell me to shut the hell up and we can finish this test and go watch a movie and go right back to normal and--”

Tony’s voice faded to a soft rumble in James’s subconscious as the soldier tuned out the words and focused instead of Tony’s mouth, on soft red lips and the peek of tongue behind teeth and then up to Tony’s eyes the how insecure they were, almost scared and definitely embarrassed and that wasn’t right at all. No one half as pretty as Tony should ever look insecure and hell, this wasn’t the first time James had seen all that reflected in Tony’s eyes but it was the first time he knew he could do something about it.

So he did.

“--and I’m just saying, if you want to forget it then that’s okay too and mmph--!”

Tony shut up when James shifted forward and kissed him, their noses bumping just a split second before their mouths met, the stress ball falling away forgotten and Tony’s apologetic back-pedaling cut off in a surprised gasp.

“James, what--”

“Nah, don’t pull away.” James hooked his fingers into Tony’s hair and brought him back. “C’mere and kiss me.”

“J, Look Away Protocol!” Tony blurted before they were kissing again and this time Tony chased the embrace, leaning over far enough to balance at James’s leg and then up at his thigh and James sucked in a breath and groaned when Tony’s fingers dug into the thick muscle, knees falling open automatically to make room for Tony when the pretty brunette stood up and pressed closer.

“Right here.” Oh yeah, James knew how to do this, how to trail down a lover’s back until they curled deeper into the kiss, to grip at a little waist and smooth over Tony’s hip before skating just lightly over the curve of his rear. God he missed his other hand, suddenly missed the new arm, wanted so desperately to grab onto that ridiculous butt with one hand and keep the other buried in Tony’s curls to drive the kiss deeper, wetter. “Right here, Tony. Come here.”

He could make do with this-- with dragging the blunt of his nails along Tony’s side, grasping at the give of Tony’s waist and palming over the rise of Tony’s ass until the beautiful brunette shuddered and fell into him a little further, parted his lips and let James in to taste.

Tony mumbled something over the slide of James’s tongue along his own but it didn’t matter, whatever he wanted to say or whatever thought process he might have had was gone as James lifted up the back of his shirt to get to skin and callous rough fingers slid along the waist band of his pants. Tony immediately returned the favor, shoving his hands beneath James’s tank top and scratching lightly over the defined abs, moaning when heated skin flexed beneath his palms and covering James’s hummed reply into another kiss, wet and a little dirty and more intense than Tony had ever expected.

The windows went dark behind them as the Look Away protocol finished locking down the lab and the onset of sudden shadows ramped up the moment to nearly unbearable as Tony traced the scars at James’s shoulder and muttered a hoarse, “God, you’re beautiful.” into the soldier’s ear. James didn’t hesitate to cover the reactor with his hand and whisper right back, the words easier than anything else, easy like endearments, easy like he’d been waiting to say them forever.

“Not half as gorgeous as you are, Tony.” and this time when they kissed James slumped down in the chair and nudged an encouraging knee between Tony’s legs, muttering, “C’mon honey, I’ve got you. Won’t let you fall.”

A split seconds hesitation-- “Wait, I should--” Tony pulled away and started fumbling with his belt in the half dark. “Pants gotta come off at some point, right? Might as well be right now.”

“Slow down.” James already missed the taste of Tony on his mouth and he reached out for him. “Slow down, Tony we got so much time, don’t need to rush.”

I don’t have much time. “Sorta wanna rush.” Tony managed a short laugh and James started to protest again, started to insist they should go slow cos fuck just cos he somehow knew how to do all this didn’t mean he wasn’t overwhelmed and halfway to spilling in his pants just from the damn kiss. Tony was incredible, responsive and so so sweet and it was the first time since ‘my name is James’ that James felt human.

He felt human and real and like his heart was going to burst out of his chest if the only person in the world who knew him didn’t get back in his arms now.

“Tony.” Short and breathless as James worked at his own belt and shoved his pants down his thighs. He needed, he needed, he needed. “C’mere.”

“Give me a sec--”

“Tony, come here.” This time it cracked in the air like an order, like the snap of a whip and in the shadows Tony sucked in an audible breath. Shit. “No, I--” damn it. “Didn’t mean to snap at you. Didn’t mean to--”

“No it’s fine, it’s no surprise to anyone that I have a military-giving-orders sort of kink.” There was Tony, slipping back into James’s space and right onto his lap half naked from the waist down and Jame’s brain short circuited right then and there. “Totally fine, please god order me around and please god--”

Tony stuttered, fell forward onto James’s frame with a shocked sort of noise when skin met skin and their bare cocks rubbed together. “James.”

“Easy.” James couldn’t draw a full breath, he was strangling needing to feel Tony against him, moving with him, moving on him and he couldn’t breathe as he dug bruises at Tony’s waist and prayed for self control. “S-Slow down, we’ve got time.”

Relax. Reassure. He knew how to do this.

“Fuck having time.” Tony’s breath was hot at James’s ear, his teeth sharp on the sensitive skin as he worried red marks down James’s throat, latched on and pulled over the soldier’s pulse until James shouted and the heavy cock throbbed against Tony, spilling wet from the tip and slicking the way enough for Tony to thrust against his stomach, once, twice, until they both saw stars. “I don’t-- Jesus, James-- I don’t want to go slow.”

They crashed together again, tongues tangling and teeth scraping and hands grabbing, hair knotting between greedy fingers, Tony rocking forward to rub the tip of his length into James’s flat abdomen, James bracing his feet on the floor and rolling his hips up to slot his cock into the cleft of Tony’s ass. The electrodes at his arm fell away when Tony gripped at his bicep and James flexed just to show off, he knew he was strong, he wanted Tony to know he was strong, he could do this, he could take care of Tony and fuck, he would be so thrilled to be able to take care of Tony, he would, he would.

He knew how to do this, so when Tony handed over a tube of something slick, frame trembling and breath hitching to whisper, “I’ve never actually-- I mean not this way--” James just nodded and drenched his fingers in the lube, way more than they needed cos he’d never take the chance of anything hurting. He rolled his hips so Tony ended up against his chest and felt down low for where Tony was tight and warm, easing around the puckered rim lightly and then with more purpose, gently and then with more intent until he could fit inside and Tony made a shocked, hoarse noise and automatically tried to rock back into him.

“Easy easy.” James whispered, wishing to hell and back he had both hands so he could hold Tony right at his heart and soothe the nervous shaking. “Sweetheart, go slow, have mercy on a fella, I’m gonna lose it way before you do if you don’t settle down.”

The endearment slipped out unintended but easy so James didn’t bother taking it back or apologizing. Besides, how could he be sorry when Tony practically purred over the word and went beautifully pliant and trusting as James worked another finger deep inside and tried to open the smaller brunette up carefully, so carefully and just as tender as he could be when his cock was aching, leaking, throbbing with each shift and wriggle of Tony’s hips.

“You’ll hafta help.” James finally said when he thought Tony was ready, when three fingers fit into Tony’s core and his rim was sloppy wet and loose. “Gotta help me, Tony. I’ll hold you steady but you gotta get on me, okay?”

Tony nodded wordlessly and reached back to close his palm around James, stroking with slick fingers once, twice and then James hissed out, “Tony, I won’t last---” and Tony grasped the thick cock steady and lowered himself inch by inch onto the fat head, groaning at the first push inside and then slow slow slow with minute little movements until James was clear inside and Tony was so full he didn’t know whether to shout in sheer pleasure or close his eyes and sob.

Overwhelming.

James let go for a minute, only a minute when Tony sat flush to his lap again, right hand grabbing onto the bottom of the chair and squeezing down as hard as he could as he fought for sanity. “Tony--” His head snapped back, mouth falling open as he gasped for air. “Oh Christ you feel good, feel so good on me oh my god.”

Tony hid his face in James’s shoulder and tried to get his breathing under control, his core clenching around the thick length and thighs shaking with the effort of holding still until he stopped feeling impaled and the burn low in his center melted towards only pleasure. Then it was just a tentative roll of his hips, barely a movement at all but James murmured a curse that could have been a prayer for all the reverence in his voice as he breathed Tony’s name.

“Kiss me.” James rasped, ordered, and when Tony kissed him just lightly, James immediately pushed it for more, shoving his tongue into Tony’s mouth and thrusting in a clear imitation of what he wanted to be doing lower but oh oh oh he would wait until Tony was ready, he could wait until the drugging slide of Tony’s body over his cock and quiet pleas of yes and more slid into into rough strokes and loud demands of faster and harder. James knew this, knew he wanted Tony’s mouth against his own and knew he wanted to sip every sweet cry from those lips. James wanted to steal every little sound and gasp Tony made and he wanted to lick the sweat at the sharp jawline and down at the pulse throbbing in Tony’s neck and he wanted to touch Tony everywhere but he settled for memorizing Tony’s taste as the kiss went on and on and on.

Drowning.

“James.” Tony kept one hand on James’s torso so he could feel every ripple and shift of muscle, the other in the longish hair as leverage as he dug his toes into the floor and worked himself up off of James’s cock and then back on, stuttering and stammering as his body stretched and core shivered. His own cock bobbed between their bodies, forgotten in the chase of the shocking intimacy of the moment and Tony would have been content to just ride, to just rise and fall like this for hours if his stomach wasn’t already clenching with need, the head of his cock red and swollen smearing pre-come in thin streaks. “James, touch me--”

“Yes.” James’s answer was damn near a growl, and Tony’s hips jerked forward at that first stroke, the soldiers grip solid and hot and wet and perfect for driving into, fucking his cock into perfect pressure and sitting back onto James harder than he had before, hurried and deep and Tony’s vision went white when James shoved up into him and everything slid just right.

They were both sweating now, shirts drenched and Tony’s ass making a slick, slapping sound every time it bounced off James’s thighs and it was overwhelming, they were drowning, everything was dark and hazy, the glow of the reactor reflecting off the blue of James’s eyes and gold flecks in Tony’s gaze catching the shuttered lights in the corner. James didn’t want to look away, he couldn’t look away so when he didn’t think he could even another second, he grabbed Tony’s jaw and sealed their mouths together, smothered his shout of release into a brutal kiss as his cock throbbed and pulsed, spilling and pouring inside Tony until the smaller brunette cried out, shuddered as his core clenched tight, reached down to feel James leaking out on his fingers.

Oxygen. “Tony.” The big soldier tore away from the kiss to suck in a ragged breath, pushed his forehead into Tony’s shoulder and shook through another body racking tremor. “Fuck, Tony-- I couldn’t wait-- couldn’t--you’re incredible--”

Tony tried to shake his head, tried to tell James that it was okay, that he was just as carried away and nearly just as lost, but the words didn’t matter.

With James panting sweet words in his hear, with the security of knowing that he didn’t have to hide anymore, Tony closed his eyes--

--and let himself go.

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

JARVIS didn’t cancel the Look Away protocol until first James and then Tony had gotten redressed.

Both men looked at each other a little uncertainly until James said something quiet about going to get cleaned up and Tony agreed, motioning towards the back of the lab and telling the soldier he had a shower in there he’d probably use and that he’d see James before bed time.

It was awkward at best-- Tony who had only dared once to give in a tiny bit to what his heart wanted and was embarrassed and shy about being so open and wrecked, James who didn’t remember ever having actually done this sort of thing but already knowing that this time with Tony was the only one that would ever matter.

It was awkward at best, or at least it was until James looked around and saw the windows unshading one by one and quickly pushed Tony in front of a still dark panel to lay a soft, achingly sweet kiss on his lips.

Whatever was said was too quiet for even JARVIS’s systems to catch, but Tony was smiling when James turned and left so it couldn’t have been too bad.

There were cameras in the bathroom, installed post Afghanistan in case Tony ever had trouble and needed help in and out of the shower, but as soon as JARVIS saw Tony get in beneath the water and immediately sit down and hug his knees to his chest, the cameras were turned off.

No one needed to ever see Tony breaking down into relieved stunned tears after decades of denial and hiding and repression. Not Ms. Potts when she reviewed the footage every once in a while, not even Tony when he inevitably pulled up the scene with he and James to re-watch and remember.

Besides, Tony was smiling when he came out of the shower, smiling and perhaps limping a tiny bit as he went to get another shake from the fridge so JARVIS stayed wisely silent.

And on the table where the prosthesis arm was being calibrated to match James’s strength, the input from the electrodes and the stress ball kept feeding into the program, the numbers scaling higher and higher and higher, well beyond what a normal human could ever hope to attain, as far as four or five times what even the strongest men could hope to lift.

The numbers just kept going up, but Tony was smiling as he went off to bed so JARVIS stayed silent.

A puzzle for another day, perhaps.

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

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

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#ncts fics #winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes

98 notes · View notes

fanfics4all · 4 years

Text

Not For Him

Request: Yes / No Hi please can I have a sweetpea x jones reader where I'm jughead & bettys little sister and I have an eating disorder and they all start picking up on it (jughead, betty, sweetpea, fangs, fp, alice, toni, cheryl,veronica and archie) and my excuses of not eating & one day my mum (alice) asks me to eat breakfast with them all & I get upset about it and start to cry and I tell them its be cause of my boyfriend & how hes horrible to me and then sweetpea confesses his love for me & we get together Anon

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Sweet Pea x Fem!Jones!Reader

Word count: 1301

Warnings: ANOREXIA (Will not be tagging anyone because of the possible triggering content)

Y/N: Your Name

Y/N/N: Your NickName

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

My family was a little weird. It started with my Dad, FP Jones and my Mom, Gladys Jones, my older brother, Jughead Jones, my little sister Jellybean Jones, and me. Then my Mother and sister left us and it was just me, my Dad, and my brother. But then they came back and we tried being a family again, it didn’t work out. Now my dad was married to Alice Cooper. So my sister was now Betty Cooper, my brother’s girlfriend, like I said weird family. But everyone was happy and no one in town really seemed to care. We all lived together and everything was pretty great actually, well all except my boyfriend. When we started dating he was so sweet to me, but then he started criticizing me and comparing me to other girls. He was always telling me how he wishes I was skinner like them. It got to me and now I have anorexia. It wasn’t that hard to hide from my family because we never really ate together anyway. They always assumed I ate before they got home and I didn’t need to deal with it. My friends were a different story, I was always making up excuses for not eating and they haven’t caught on yet.

I woke up in the morning and got ready for school. My stomach ached from not eating, but I pushed through the pain. I walked downstairs to see everyone getting ready to eat breakfast and my heart started beating faster.

“Y/N, come sit. We were just about to eat.” Alice said with a smile.

“I’m not really very hungry…” I lied.

“Come on honey, you need to eat breakfast.” My dad said.

“Yeah, don’t you know it’s the most important meal of the day?” Jughead said with a laugh and tears started blurring my vision. I can’t give into the hunger that’s screaming at me.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Betty asked, concerned.

“I-I’m fine. I’m just not hungry!” I insisted.

“What’s up with you?” Jellybean asked confused.

“I just said! I’m not hungry!” I said a little louder than needed. I felt tears fall down my face and I turned to run back up to my room, but someone grabbed my arm and stopped me. The person pulled me into them and I looked up to see my Dad looked down at me with worry in his eyes.

“What’s wrong honey?” He asked and I just shook my head. I was crying hard now and I couldn’t speak. It felt like everything was crashing down on me and I didn’t know what to do. He took me over to the couch and Betty came to sit on my other side. Everyone was in the living room now, all staring at me with concern and confusion.

“Just relax Y/N/N.” Jughead said as Betty rubbed my back. My Dad grabbed my hand and gently squeezed. I took a few deep breaths and managed to get myself under control.

“Tell us what’s wrong.” Alice said and I tried blinking away my tears.

“I-I just don’t want to eat…” I said.

“We got that, why?” Jellybean asked.

“JB!” My dad scolded her for her slight attitude.

“Sorry.” She said and I looked down at my hands.

“Leo is always comparing me to other girls…” I whispered.

“What?” Betty asked shocked.

“He’s always saying how he wishes I was skinner like them…” I said.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Jughead growled.

“You’re breaking up with that boy right now.” Alice said and took my phone. She sent him a text and broke up with him for me.

“But he’s right! I’m not like them.” I cried and my Dad pulled me close to him.

“Princess, you’re perfect. But if you want to lose weight you can’t do this to yourself, it’s dangerous. And you should only lose weight if you want to, not because someone else says you should.” He said and kissed my head.

“When was the last time you actually ate a real meal?” JB asked.

“I-I don’t know… Maybe a few months ago…” I answered.

“Get your ass to that table right now.” My Dad said, pulling me up with him. He sat me at the table and started piling my plate with food.

“Dad, you can’t expect her to eat all that right away…” Jughead said taking some off.

“He’s right, we need to ease her into eating normally again.” Betty said sitting down next to me. I looked at the food and my stomach felt like it hurt more.

“You’re not going to school today, I will be making you a doctors appointment.” Alice said and I sighed.

“Eat up.” Dad said.

As promised, Alice took me to the doctor. They measured my height and weight, checked my vital signs, some blood tests, they brought in a mental health specialist to talk to me for a bit, and finally did an x-ray just to be safe. Luckily they didn’t think I was bad enough to require hospitalization, but I did have to go to therapy until they thought I was better. It took most of the day and when we got home Jughead, Betty and JellyBean, were home with Sweet Pea. They all looked at me with such pity and I hated it. I just ran up to my room and shut my door.

After an hour someone knocked on my door. I ignored them, but they wouldn’t stop.

“Go away!” I called. I wasn’t in the mood to see anyone.

“Y/N, please open the door.” Sweet Pea’s voice rang from the other side and I sighed. I got up and opened the door. He gently pushed his way inside and shut the door.

“I heard what happened, why didn’t you tell me?” He asked and tears sprang to my eyes.

“Because I didn’t want anyone to know! I stopped loving Leo a long time ago, but I just couldn’t leave.” I said with a few tears falling down my cheeks. Sweet Pea pulled me into a hug and he gently stroked my hair.

“You deserve someone so much better than that asshole. Jughead and Fangs had to keep me from kicking his ass all day.” He said and I looked up at him confused.

“Why would you care so much?” I asked.

“He hurt you, of course I’m gonna care!” He said, confused.

“But I knew why Jughead would want to kick his ass, but why you?” I asked.

“I always hated him, because he was with you and I wasn’t.” He answered and my eyes widened.

“W-what?” I asked.

“Y/N, I’ve always been so hopelessly in love with you, I just never said anything because you seemed so happy with that dickhead. Now I wish I did, then you wouldn’t have to go through all this shit.” He said and I just stared at him. My best friend was in love with me? But he’s a player! He always said he would never fall in love and that’s why I gave up hope that he would ever love me back.

“I love you too…” I whispered and a smile grew on his face. He leaned down and captured my lips in a sweet loving kiss, something I never got from Leo. This kiss actually had love in it. With Leo there was never love, I was just too naive to see it.

“I’ll help you through all of this, because you’ve always been perfect, Y/N.” He said resting his forehead on mine. It was that moment that I knew I’d be able to get through anything that life threw at me. That I would be able to overcome this dark time in my life and it would be replaced by light.

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inawickedlittletown · 4 years

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I’m With You (22/22)

Summary:

Having a crush was nothing to be ashamed of…lying to the family and friends of said crush about being the guy’s boyfriend, that was a whole other problem. When Buck saves the life of Andrew Diaz and accidentally makes a nurse think that he’s Andrew’s boyfriend, Buck soon finds himself lying to Andrew’s firefighter friends/coworkers as well as Andrew’s family including Andrew’s very suspicious and attractive brother, Eddie.

Based on the 1995 movie While You Were Sleeping.

Words: 4,916

Notes: And we are at the end. Enjoy.

Read on Ao3

Masterpost

Previous Chapter

–

Eddie saw the pictures before he heard about the get together at Chim’s apartment. Karen had posted a few pictures on Instagram and Eddie had just happened to open the app in time to see them. The thing that struck him the most was that Buck looked happy. He was smiling wide standing between Hen and Karen and then in another with his sister. And then in the last picture, it was Buck, Chim, Hen, and Andrew.

So, it was to Andrew that Eddie went first. “How’s Buck?”

“He’s good. Which doesn’t mean that you’re off the hook on talking to him.”

Eddie shrugged him off.

“He really is good, Eddie,” Andrew said.

Hen brought up the dinner later, filling Bobby in on Buck and more specifically that Buck was training to become a firefighter.

“I think that would be good for him,” Bobby said.

Eddie didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected that at all. Buck was going to be a firefighter.

A week later, he watched Maddie enter the station. She was on her own and Eddie was up on one of the trucks doing some maintenance so she didn’t notice him. Eddie got to watch as Hen greeted her, but then it was Chimney that she left with.

“What’s up with that?” he asked Hen later when they were leaving the station.

“Chim said something about Maddie needing a comprehensive movie guide,” Hen said with a shrug.

“Is Buck really okay?” Eddie asked.

Hen gave a slight nod. “He’s doing something he loves and he has his sister back. I think — I think Buck is okay. He’ll be okay even if you never talk through whatever you’re still angry about. But I think the two of you should talk.”

“He should be the one to—”

Hen raised a hand to stop him. “What, to apologize? He sort of did that already. Andrew isn’t even holding it against him, so I don’t get why you are.”

“I’m not holding—”

“You are,” Hen said. “But you shouldn’t.”

He couldn’t make himself call. Or text. And then, when he finally built up the courage to return to Coffee Time to see if he could catch Buck there, Buck wasn’t there. Not the first time he stopped by. Not the second. The third time that he went in and didn’t find Buck, Eddie finally asked the person at the counter.

“Buck doesn’t work here anymore,” Buck’s former co-worker told him which meant that Eddie had to actually call him or text him or show up at his apartment. None of which felt like something he could actually do.

He did need to do something, though, because Buck was a constant thought in his mind. He was past the anger and past all the resentment he’d felt about the guilt that Buck had made him feel and instead he just missed him. He was reminded of Buck constantly. Legolas alone could bring forth memories and then there was everything else. Everyone else who still had a connection to him and saw him if not regularly, at least they did see him.

All of it came to a head when he was over at abuela’s house with Christopher. Andrew was supposed to join them but he was running late so while Christopher was outside with Legolas, Eddie had a moment with his abuela.

“No estás bien,” she said. “Te veo triste, mijo.”

[“You’re not okay.” she said. “I can see you’re sad, kiddo”]

“I’m okay, abuela,” Eddie responded.

“This has to do with Buck, doesn’t it? Ese día en la fiesta de Andrew, todo lo que pasó con Buck. Todavía estás enojado?”

[“...that day at Andrew’s party, everything that happened with Buck. You’re still angry?”]

Maybe there was some lingering anger but it wasn’t even directed at Buck. It was more that Eddie wished things were different and that somehow if Eddie hadn’t gone and lost Buck’s friendship that something more could have been possible. The potential for more between them...it felt like it was lost.

“Eddie, qué estás esperando si lo extrañas tanto? Andrew dice que Buck está bien. Va ser un bombero.”

[“Eddie, what are you waiting for if you miss him so much? Andrew says that Buck is okay. He’s going to be a firefighter.”]

“It’s not just that I miss him,” Eddie said and he took a deep breath. “I think...I think I love him. I think he’s the only person I’ve met since Shannon that I could see myself spending the rest of my life with and even though I like to think that I actually do know him, he lied. He lied to all of us. So how much of what he told me is real? And then there’s...well, who knows how he feels about me.”

Abuela gave him a pointed look but she didn’t get to say anything because Pepa arrived. While Eddie could easily figure out that his abuela wasn’t too bothered by any of what Buck had done, Pepa was different and Eddie just couldn’t tell how she felt mostly because she didn’t ever bring up Buck. And if his name came up, she raised an eyebrow and said nothing more.

“Didn’t know you’d be here, Eddie,” she said. “I just spoke to your mom. She and your dad are coming back next week?”

Eddie nodded. The only part about his parents returning to LA that he liked was that they were going to be staying with Andrew. Like Pepa, his parents had said very little on the whole Buck debacle. Eddie suspected that they’d talked to Andrew about it. Maybe Andrew had put them off on talking to him about Buck. Eddie didn’t mind that too much because if Andrew was pushy, his mother was much worse.

“I think mom thinks she’s going to convince Andrew not to go through with it,” Eddie said.

Pepa chuckled. “I wish her luck. And how are you doing, Edmundo?”

“He’s missing Buck,” Abuela said. “I miss him too.”

“He lied to us,” Pepa said.

“Pepa, no seas asi. Ves a este chico, esta enamorado.”

[“Pepa, don’t be like that. Look at this boy, he’s in love.”]

Eddie just groaned. He felt Pepa’s hand land on his hair, running her fingers through it gently and soothing. “Eddito, if you really feel like that, what are you waiting for?”

“You just said it. He lied to us and I have no idea how he feels or what will—”

Her hand tugged at his hair suddenly and he yelped. “Stop thinking so much. You’ll drive yourself crazy. You just have to talk to him.”

“Right, like that’s easy.” But they were right. He did need to talk to Buck.

Pepa was looking at him still.

“Look, I can’t pretend I’m not still mildly upset about all of this with Buck. But, I also know that he didn’t pretend to be anything different than who he is with us. And I’m sure once I see him again, it’ll be easy to forgive him.”

—

Buck was so busy with his last few weeks of training and how grueling it all was to notice much outside of what it meant to be so close to being done. So, he didn’t realize that Maddie and Chim hung out more than he hung out with either of them. He also failed to open any of his mail or check his phone — mostly because he knew his bills weren’t due for a few weeks yet and everyone that was important in his life knew that he was too busy to do much more than train and sleep and as such would understand when Buck didn’t respond right away.

And then when those final weeks came to an end, came the testing. The written portion and the physical all of it combined to measure all the skills that Buck had learned over the last few months. It felt surreal to have gotten to the end and even more surreal when there were results in front of him and he passed. Top marks. Any station would have him.

“But there is one that has put in a request for you, Buckley,” one of his instructors, Danny, said.

The 118. Buck just didn’t know if that was what he wanted. Andrew was already off of the 118 and as much as Buck loved Chim and Hen, he didn’t know if it would be possible for him to work with Eddie. He also hadn’t seen Bobby yet since everything happened but Bobby had clearly put through the request to get him so he had to be okay with it.

“The 118?” Buck asked.

“You have friends there, Buckley?”

“You could say that,” Buck said. “I just don’t know if going to work with them is a good idea.”

Danny touched Buck’s shoulder. “The people you work with on this job, those people become family. You’ll spend more time with them than you expect and you will know every single one of them better than you’ll know anyone else because it’s that closeness that makes this work. It’s trust that makes it easier for you to do your job. We leave everything behind to do this, to focus on saving lives, but it’s far easier when you’re carrying the burden of this job with those you work with.”

Trust. It came down to that, to how Buck knew that Eddie didn’t trust him.

“I think I have to turn that offer down,” Buck said.

“Think on it, Buckley. You don’t have to decide now. Captain Nash, he’s one of the best. Maybe talk to your friends before you decide. No one will be assigned officially until tomorrow.”

“Right,” Buck said. “Thanks.”

It wouldn’t change for him, he knew. He wouldn’t do that to Eddie, he wouldn’t encroach on his space, push in where he wasn’t wanted even if it would disappoint Hen and Chim and maybe even Bobby.

Somehow, it wasn’t Maddie that he called to talk about it, though, but Andrew. And Andrew agreed to meet him for coffee at Coffee Time.

Ali was there when Buck arrived. Buck joined the line while he waited for Andrew. He had almost made it to the front of the line when Andrew entered and Buck felt a little like he’d gone back in time. Andrew pushed the door open and he was just as handsome as ever as he walked in. Buck couldn’t help but smile, remembering when he’d been behind that counter admiring this man.

“Buck!” he said as he approached and he pulled Buck into a tight hug. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Great, even.”

“Wait, wasn’t today...wait, are you a probie officially?” Andrew asked.

“That I am,” Buck said and he couldn’t help but smile to himself. “And it seems like Bobby is trying to pull some strings to have me join the 118. That’s, um, that’s why I asked you to meet me.”

“Yeah, I know,” Andrew said. “I spoke to him about it and we all felt you’d fit in perfectly in my spot.”

Buck took a breath, but they had reached the counter at that point and Ali was there with both of their coffee orders ready and a plate with danishes. Andrew picked up his cup and the plate and motioned towards one of the empty tables.

“So, you two together officially, now?” Ali asked.

“What? No. Andrew isn’t into men. But we’re friends now.”

“Well, he’s still really nice to look at,” Ali said complete with an eyebrow wiggle. “Think there’s a chance he could—”

Buck rolled his eyes. He put a bill down in front of her and grabbed his coffee.

“I’m just saying, Buck, you could put in a good word for me.”

Buck laughed. Andrew was waiting for him at a table.

“You don’t want to join the 118,” Andrew said after Buck sat down.

“I — I don’t know, Andrew. I mean I love Hen and Chim and Bobby and I liked everyone else from the station well enough but there’s Eddie to consider too. I doubt he’d be happy to have me around.”

Buck averted his gaze, staring at his coffee instead.

Andrew chuckled. “You haven’t spoken to him? I thought — Eddie said he was going to talk to you weeks ago.”

“I haven’t spoken to him,” Buck said and he hated how a burst of hope ran through him. He glanced back up at Andrew. “I’ve been...I’ve been busy, though. Is he, is he mad at me about it, still?”

“I don’t think he is,” Andrew said. “If he ever really was. Look, Buck, my brother is stubborn. We both know that. He needed time. Maybe less than he got if we’re honest, but he did...and more importantly, you needed time. And look at you, look at what you’ve done. What you are. You did all of this on your own and you needed to.”

Buck didn’t know how to respond. He took a gulp of his coffee. It was hot, maybe a bit too hot, but the slight burn on his tongue felt good.

“You should talk to him,” Andrew said. “If you want. Or you should join the 118. Or you can go somewhere else and be whoever and whatever you want to be. All, I’m saying, is that this is all up to you, Buck. You made a choice to save my life and maybe you got something out of that too—”

“By lying,” Buck said, interrupting. “By pretending that I was someone to you and by continuing that charade even when I...when I knew it was going to blow up in my face.”

Andrew’s fingers were cold when they touched Buck’s hand, taking it into a tight grip. “You did something stupid, but not malicious. And you’re better for it. I know my family, I know the effect that they have on people and I’m not just talking about Pepa and abuela and my parents, but everyone. And you needed them. You needed their kindness and their acceptance and it’s entirely possible that we all needed someone like you. Even, Eddie. Maybe especially Eddie.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just answer one thing for me,” Andrew said and he was smirking, full teeth. There was mischief there which meant that Buck couldn’t help but worry.

“What?” Buck asked.

“Do you love him? Eddie, that is?”

Buck’s hand fell away from Andrew’s. And he knew the answer. He absolutely knew the answer which didn’t make it easy to admit.

“You do,” Andrew said. “That’s why this is so hard. Go talk to Eddie.”

“Right now?” Buck asked.

“Why keep waiting?”

“Because I have no idea how to do this,” Buck said.

“Tell the truth. That always helps,” Andrew said and then he pulled out a pen from somewhere and wrote down Eddie’s address. “Go.”

“But—”

“Go,” Andrew said, even more insistent.

Buck looked at Andrew for a beat longer and then glanced back at Ali. “You know, my former co-worker over there wanted me to put in a good word.”

Andrew laughed, loud and surprised.

“Of course, I should also add that the first time I stepped into your house there was a bra hanging off of a lamp so I don’t know if I should actually encourage that.”

“Buck, stop getting distracted and go,” Andrew said pointedly.

—

Eddie’s yard was not as big as Andrew’s, but it was enclosed and it meant that Legolas had somewhere to run around with Christopher. Eddie did sometimes take him over to Andrew’s place so he could have a bit more space or over to his abuela’s house. On a few occasions, Eddie had even taken Legolas and Christopher to the dog park, but Eddie always worried about the other dogs getting too close to Christopher. Although, as it turned out, Legolas could be pretty protective of him.

Christopher and Legolas were both out in the yard and Eddie had been keeping his eyes out on them through the kitchen window while he made him and Christopher sandwiches. Christopher was sitting on the grass and petting the dog which meant that Eddie felt okay with leaving them to it for a moment and going to the bathroom. He had barely closed the door before he heard Christopher shouting and some barking.

“Legolas! Legolas, come back!”

Eddie ran out. Christopher was standing with only one of his crutches. Legolas was gone. Eddie didn’t see him anywhere. He rushed towards Christopher, who reached for him.

“Hey, what happened?” Eddie said as he picked him up. “Are you okay?”

“He ran,” Christopher said. “Like when the earthquake happened. Dad, do you think this is another earthquake?”

It was a real possibility. Eddie was aware that animals acted strange whenever things like earthquakes happened.

“I don’t know, Chris,” Eddie said and yet the dog was nowhere to be found. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. He can’t get out of the yard.”

At least, Eddie was sure that he couldn’t. In the time that they’d had Legolas, he hadn’t once tried to get out of the yard. Eddie bent to pick up Christopher’s fallen crutch just as he heard barking, but it was definitely not coming from anywhere in the yard.

“Daddy, I hear him,” Christopher said.

It sounded like he was somewhere in the front of the house. So maybe he did have a way to get out of the yard or the door hadn’t been latched properly.

Eddie set Christopher down and headed to the door leading out of the yard to the front of the house. He heard Christopher following behind him. Eddie stopped short just as he was rounding the house because Legolas was there wiggling excitedly, his tail wagging to and fro as he jumped around and his whole body shook with excitement. Buck was on the ground doing some mixture of petting and hugging Legolas while the dog licked his face.

“Buck,” Eddie whispered, so low that Buck definitely didn’t hear it.

Then, Christopher arrived and he didn’t pause like Eddie did. And he yelled, “Buck!”

Buck glanced at them, then, and he smiled that blinding smile that made Eddie suddenly remember how attracted he was to this man. Buck was there in front of them. He was smiling. He was at Eddie’s house, hugging Eddie’s dog and in the next moment hugging Christopher and laughing. Eddie could only watch.

“Hi,” Buck said and he had Christopher up in his arms. Legolas walked alongside him. Christopher was speaking too, explaining something or other to Buck, but Eddie couldn’t be bothered to pay him any attention because Buck was right there looking at Eddie with those sea-like eyes.

“Hi,” Eddie said back after a long beat. “You should come inside.”

Buck nodded.

Eddie wanted to touch him. He wanted to grasp his hand or his elbow or his shoulder. He wanted to get close enough so that he could smell Buck’s aftershave. He wanted to pull him into his arms and hold onto him tightly. All of those things, he wanted them so that he could be sure that it really was Buck in front of him and he wasn’t experiencing some wild hallucination.

The elusive man that he’d been trying to get ahold of for the last few weeks with no results was there with him and his son and his dog. Eddie had been almost convinced that Buck was avoiding him for all that his attempts to find him were futile. Eddie had even gone as far as to get Maddie’s number off of Chim only for Maddie to tell him to call Buck or show up at Buck’s apartment. Eddie had attempted both a few times on top of texting him and somehow just couldn’t get a response.

Eddie led Buck inside the house through the front door. Buck only set Christopher down once they were inside and Legolas seemed to want to stick as close to Buck as possible. Eddie didn’t blame him.

“I was — I’m making sandwiches,” Eddie said. It felt awkward. “Do you—” Eddie cleared his throat. “—do you want to join us?”

“Uh. Sure,” Buck said.

Christopher led Buck to the table and Eddie left them to go into the kitchen where he tried not to freak out too much as he pulled out more bread for the third sandwich he was going to be making. He could hear Buck and Christopher talking. Christopher laughed and Buck chuckled a few times. Once, Legolas barked.

Eddie could only take so long making the sandwiches before he had to take them out of the kitchen. There was a lot to talk about. Apologies to be made. Explanations. But Christopher was there and they couldn’t discuss any of that while Christopher was with them. But, Buck was there. Buck was with them. It was enough to know that Buck had come to them.

—

Buck had intended to take his time walking up to Eddie’s house, to talk himself into knocking on the door and to maybe not get in his head so much that he couldn’t actually knock. But then, he heard a bark and suddenly golden fur was running at him and Legolas was jumping at him until Buck just dropped to the ground to pet his favorite dog.

“I’ve missed you so much, boy,” Buck whispered into his fur. “Did you miss me too?” Legolas nudged him and pressed into his space, his whole body moving with all the excitement.

He was so distracted by Legolas, that Buck didn’t even realize Eddie had come out to find the dog until Christopher was calling his name.

The next thing he knew, he was hugging Christopher and in a strange sort of daze, he followed Eddie into the house and Eddie disappeared into the kitchen and Buck didn’t know if he could stomach anything Eddie brought out. Christopher was a good distraction. The boy filled him in on a few things. He told Buck about a new coloring book and about Legolas being his dog and about a cartoon he was watching and Buck lost himself to talking to Christopher for a while until Eddie came back.

Tension hung in the air between them and Buck had expected nothing less. Eddie had welcomed him in, though, and he hadn’t asked Buck to leave. It made Buck think that he’d made the right decision in going to see him.

He tried to eat, but couldn’t stomach it. His stomach had been taken up by his nerves and maybe in part by the hope he felt and the awe of having Eddie in front of him again. Eddie looked good. He always looked good.

After he finished eating, Christopher allowed himself to be distracted and settled in front of the tv, Legolas sitting next to him. Eddie motioned for Buck to go to the kitchen.

“I’m officially a firefighter,” Buck said for lack of something else to say.

“Oh,” Eddie said. “Congrats. I had no idea.”

Buck nodded. “I, um, I probably would have never thought of going for it without everything that happened.”

“You’re welcome, I guess,” Eddie said with a snap in his tone.

“I’m sorry,” Buck said. “I hope you believe me this time. That I never meant to hurt you. Any of you. I came so close to telling you so many times. Something always stopped me — interruptions or my own head. And I should have let it go on for so long or at all, but I’m going to be honest here, Eddie, and just say that I don’t actually regret it. I don’t regret the lie or getting to know you — everyone. I don’t regret any of that. I couldn’t.”

“You don’t regret it,” Eddie said in a whisper.

Eddie crossed his arms and he leaned back against his counter and Buck had no idea what to expect, but the one thing he did know to do was to wait and see what Eddie might say. It helped that Eddie didn’t look angry. Mostly, he just looked like he was trying to figure out what to say.

“At first I thought...I wished you’d never done it,” Eddie said after a beat. “More and more lately, I’ve realized I don’t wish that. I was...I am angry more at myself for not questioning you more and for not realizing sooner that you couldn’t have been with Andrew. I was doubting my own knowledge of my brother...I was doubting everything I was seeing and I think I let so much just go because I wanted you around even if you were my brother’s boyfriend.”

Buck had definitely not expected that. Eddie was frowning in that cute way with lines on his forehead so prominent that Buck wanted to reach over and ease the tension. Really, he could do with touching Eddie in any way or form. He really did love him. Earlier, when he answered Andrew, Buck hadn’t fully known it. But he did. Having Eddie in front of him, it cemented it.

“You came really close to the truth,” Buck said. “A few times. The day Andrew woke up, I was gonna tell you. I was so ready to and then Chim was telling us he was awake and I was so sure that it was all over anyway.”

Eddie gasped and he blushed, not quite looking at Buck. “I was so mad that day. Jealous. I was going to kiss you before Chim interrupted.”

“Oh,” Buck said.

Eddie’s eyes met his then and Buck had to swallow before he made the decision to be brave. Buck had been different once, the kind of person that was bold and didn’t hesitate to encroach in someone’s space. That was before Abby and before he realized that all the loneliness he was feeling wouldn’t go away if he had someone warming his bed. In some ways, that had made it worse.

“Uh, you should — you should kiss me now,” Buck said, moving even closer.

Eddie’s eyes widened and darkened all at once and Buck lost himself in them as Eddie closed the small bit of space between them. Buck watched him and when Eddie didn’t do anything other than to stand so close to him that he could feel his warmth, Buck reached up to cup his face. Eddie melted into his touch, his lips let out a gasp. Buck closed his eyes and he leaned into Eddie’s space.

“I love you,” he whispered before he kissed him.

Their first kiss had been hard and urgent and Eddie had been in control, his anger and his jealousy and everything else he’d been feeling because of Buck’s lies had been everpressent in the way that he’d wanted to show Buck how much he wanted him. This kiss was not that.

This kiss was tentative and soft and slow. It was an apology and a declaration of love. When Eddie whispered a moan, Buck smiled against his lips.

“I love you,” Buck said again, their lips brushing lightly as he spoke. He opened his eyes and Eddie was already looking at him. “Eddie?”

Eddie pressed their lips together into another kiss. His arms brought Buck flush against him and Buck couldn’t think while he could feel all of Eddie against him, his muscles and his toned stomach and how Eddie kissed away from his mouth, nipping at his jawline up to his ear.

“I love you too,” he whispered, his lips brushing Buck’s earlobe. “Even if you are a liar.”

“One lie,” Buck said back. “And one I won’t ever regret.”

Eddie chuckled. “Just as long as you don’t pretend to be anyone else’s boyfriend.”

“Am I yours?” Buck asked, a tinge of nervousness travelled through him.

“I think that’s obvious,” Eddie said. “Otherwise, I don’t know what will happen the next time you save someone, Firefighter Buckley.”

Buck couldn’t help but laugh. “I love you so much, Eddie. Been kinda miserable without you.”

“Serves you right,” Eddie said, but he kissed Buck again, just a peck. “But I love you too.”

“Good,” Buck whispered back, dropping his head onto Eddie’s shoulder and dropping a kiss there.

There were probably still a few things to clear up and more to catch up on, but all of that could come later. It made up the mere details in everything they’d been through. In the meanwhile, Buck just held onto Eddie and Eddie held onto him.

“You know, we do have to thank Andrew for all of this,” Buck whispered.

“Nope,” Eddie said. “He doesn’t get any satisfaction out of any of this.”

—

“Welcome to the 118, Firefighter Buckley,” Bobby said, smiling at Buck.

Eddie didn’t try to hide his own smile, Andrew noted and Buck was definitely grinning from ear to ear. He was already in uniform and there was an ease to the way that he walked and how Andrew could tell even from where he was standing that Buck felt like he was at home. Hen nudged him from where she stood next to him and Andrew glanced at her.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad this all worked out,” she said, “but I don’t even get when that all happened with Buck and Eddie.”

Andrew chuckled. “You know, I think most of it happened while I was sleeping.”

–

Notes: This fic has been such a joy to write. I just want to thank everyone that’s read this and that has left commens/kudos because that means so much and one of the reasons this fic got finished by keeping me writing even when I began to lose interest in working on this.

I hope this ending was satisfying for all of you and just thank you all so much. Let me know what you all thought. :)

Tagging: @tranquility-or-chaos @diazbuckleysworld @stilesgivesmefeels

#911 fox #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #buck x eddie #911 fox fic #fic #my fic #I'm With You

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kchuarts · 4 years

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Flowers in Blood

A/N: A new fanfic that I couldn't wait to jump on!! This one is very much different from the ones I normally write. I am also introducing a new OC. This takes place in 2018 going into 2019

Summary: Angela Burr takes on a case that had been cold since the 70's as there is a sudden spark in activity relevant to the case. She calls a friend from across the pond and gets a hold of Katie O'Connor, a 24 soon to be 25 year old American woman for the job. The case is assigned to Katie and Jonathan for them to solve and bring down the leader of an unnamed group that was involved in the crimes back then. Unfortunately for Jonathan, Katie is connected to a friend of his time while in Iraq that did not end well.

Warnings: Cursing and mentions of assault

Taglist: @lucywrites02 *(Let me know if you’d like to be on the tag list!!)*

Chapter 1: Poppy

A loud rapping at the door of Angela Burr’s special agency causes the Director to jump from her seat. “For fuck sake, can’t a mum have one minute of peace to ‘erself?” Angela huffed, getting up quickly and noticing Rob wasn’t at all around which irked the tired woman further. “Better have a good excuse for why he isn’t here.” She muttered under her breath before opening the door being met with a shorter, pale skinned woman. Angela’s brows knit together in confusion as she studied the young woman, “Green eyes, short brown hair, looks 157 centimeters in height-” She stopped as she noticed the woman give her an odd look. “What? I’m just trying to get a better look at ya. I dunno if you are who we sent for, you’re so short! Wait, wait. I got it, you’re American is that it? Your unit of measurements are-” She sighed and smacked her own forehead as her thoughts finally caught up to her. “Right! Dear, I am so terribly sorry. Come in, come in. You are exactly who we called for over from across the pond. I swear I must still have a pregnancy brain even after three bloody years. Katelyn O’Connor is it?” She waved her hand over to a seat. The American brunette woman grimaced at her full name and nodded, “I uh, sorry, I prefer Katie.” She cleared her throat and held her hand out, shaking Angela’s hand. “No, no! That was my mistake, dear. Oh for fuck sake Rob! It’s about damn time you got in here!! What’s your excuse for your lack of being here?” Her large brown eyes watched as her assistant, Rob Singhal walked in. The Indian man froze and looked from Angela to Katie in confusion then down at the tray of coffees he held. “Shite! Ang, you coulda said we were gonna have company!! Apologies, miss. Next time I’ll get you tea or coffee.” He practically slammed the hot beverage in front of Angela and sighed with great irritation. Katie waved her hand as a gesture of thanks and then looked down into her lap as she fiddled with her fingers.

Angela looked up at Rob, raising her brows at his attitude. “There’s extra cream in it?”

The assistant’s hands dropped to his sides and he let out a groan, “Not even a thank you or are you ok?! I stood in line for twenty god damn minutes for your bitter rubbish and some prick hit my new chaps with his fucking bicycle!” He pointed to his pants aggressively, a large stain apparent on the light khakis. Angela rolled her eyes, taking a test sip and nodding “Alright good, there’s cream. Last time the bastards didn’t. Sorry about your pants, sweetheart but you wasted twenty minutes of preparation for our new agent!” She turned to the younger woman seated in front of her. Katie looked up and gave a warm smile, smoothing her pencil skirt out. “It’s alright Mrs. Burr-”,

“Angela, please. I had my first and last kid three years ago, I already feel old as is when I get the “Mrs.” added. Now, back to business.” Angela shuffled through documents and licked her finger to sift through properly. This was Katie’s first time out of America and she would definitely be lying if she said she hadn’t gotten a major culture shock. London was somewhat similar to New York in a manner of ways; for one thing, the people were always very loud and blunt. While London did feel more tame, it still had that familiar city smell and livelihood to it. This was certainly a new experience for a girl from a small village in Michigan, USA. “Sorry ‘bout that, Miss O’Connor. By the way, you got any relatives over in Ireland? Your last name is extremely Irish- Oh there I go again, getting off track. Sorry it’s nearly getting time for me to be checking in on the babysitter to see how my little one is doing.” Angela cleared her throat and handed Katie the files on a peculiar case that had gone cold. Katie frowned as she skimmed over the pages and gathered information on ten very high scale murders of wealthy families. Each page had a familiar theme of illegal trade, fraud, weapons, drugs, and prostitution. She noticed that there was a mysterious yet oddly recognizable symbol carved into the skin of the inner forearm of the husbands. Katie placed the photo evidence down and tapped on the sigils, “I’ve seen this before in my lessons. Mrs- Angela, why are you showing me such an old case? No one has been able to figure anything out about these crimes since the Seventies…” She leaned back and raised a brow. The older woman nodded and grabbed a stack of papers, plopping them in front of the young American. “Not until now.”

As Katie skimmed over the pages, she noticed that the activity of this particular group had risen up again and even had a public support group. The sigil was much more clear now and shaped into something more recent. It was of a Poppy flower and now that Katie thought about it, she remembered that a single poppy flower was always left behind at the crime scene. A chill ran down her spine as awful memories of her ex boyfriend Travis resurfaced. She knew there was no correlation between the two, but Travis always seemed to love giving her that type of flower and he even had a tattoo on his neck of one. To make matters worse, during her older brother Cameron’s funeral, there were poppies in some of the bouquets before he was laid to rest. It was a closed casket ceremony as he had died courageously while serving.

-flash-

“TRAVIS STOP!! GET AWAY FROM ME!” Katie screamed, kicking her legs as hard as she could to get the man off of her. Exhaustion was coming over the 20 year old girl as she had been struggling for an hour to get away from her abuser.

-flash-

A gag was shoved into Katie’s mouth with her hands and legs bound. The sounds of a blade ripping her clothes off filled the room along with the sound of her whimpers. “No one is ever gonna want you, baby girl. Not after I’m done with you. There’s no one for you to turn to, not even your dead big brother.”

“Katie?”

The green eyed woman gasped, coming out of her trance and quickly wiping a stray tear away from her cheek. “I-I’m ok, Angela. I just… I really hate poppies.” She smiled sadly, handing the paper back to her boss and taking a deep breath. “I can tell… I know we’ve just met, but if you need to talk about it you can. I see that you’ve some past trouble of sorts, I do apologize for requiring your services specifically, but I don’t think anyone else here can speak Japanese, Korean or” Angela looked down at her papers and scratched her head “Russian. Dear god and you’re only twenty four.” She whistled and nodded at the woman, impressed by her choice of studying harder languages. Thankful that the woman chose to not press further into her trauma, Katie sniffled and smiled at Angela. “I’m still learning Russian, but I think I can manage making my way through.” She nodded and sighed, that memory now seared into her brain after she had tried to bury it for good 5 years ago. “Well good because you’re going to be taking a little trip to Russia and eventually, Japan.” Angela noticed the sudden excitement in the young woman’s eyes and chuckled a little “Don’t get too excited, this is not any vacation. I understand that you are a rookie and this being your first true traveling experience, but don’t get cocky.” The chair she sat in scraped across the floor and she hoisted her purse onto her shoulder. “We will be discussing travel arrangements and the like tomorrow, but I’d like you to meet your partner today first. You two will be spending quite a bit of time together so it’s better to get used to each other now. Come along.” Angela hustled over to the door, checking her watch and noticing the time. She looked back up and eyed Rob, “Thank you for the coffee and sorry about your trousers. Have a nice night, sweetheart.” She waved with Katie following shortly behind, also waving goodbye to the assistant.

“Oh for the love of-” Angela huffed, scrambling to get her umbrella out of her purse and cursing under her breath as rain poured down on the two. “No one ever likes the rain here, it’s bloody awful.” She offered Katie to get under it. The green eyed woman obliged and rubbed her arms, the air hitting her with a bite. “I think I am used to it at least to some degree considering I grew up in Michigan. The weather there never knows what it wants to be!” Katie grimaced, continuing to rub her arms. Clearly, she had underestimated her choice in attire and was now suffering from it. She heard Angela give a little chortle and shake her head as they continued their journey to an apartment complex. The two women idly chatted on their walk to this strange building about Katie’s life as Angela wanted to get to know her better and genuinely seemed interested in her well being. “I cannot stand the thought of living in a country with a deranged clown for a leader. I mean, the mission at hand is not a pleasant one but at least you’re not having to deal with his bullshit. I reckon he’s more dangerous than this group we’re about to send you and Mr. Pine into.” The Director noticed her agent flinch and stumble for a moment. She placed a tender hand on her arm and stopped their walk, “Is something the matter dear?” Her voice softened. Katie nodded and sighed through her nose, “I wasn’t expecting to work with someone else let alone a man. I have issues with men, personal reasons I’d rather not get into.” She smiled wryly and felt the urge to cry build in her throat. “Oh. I’m sorry. Well, remember what I told you earlier, if you need to talk about it I will be more than happy to listen. Men are garbage.” She laughed, trying to lighten the mood and wrapping a comforting arm around the young woman’s shoulders. “However, Mr. Pine is not a part of the garbage I am referring to. I am hopeful that you will be comfortable around him. He is my pride and joy… And my kid too. Honestly, they’re both my kids even if one of them is 38 years old.”

Katie hoped that Angela was right and wanted to trust the woman. Those two years she had spent with Travis practically ruined her and how she viewed men. Hopefully, this Mr. Pine would help her heal and reshape her opinion.

Both women sighed as glorious heat hit their numb faces upon entering the building. “Your flat is going to be on the floor below Mr. Pine.” Angela looked at her watch and smiled with some hope, “I would perhaps suggest maybe grabbing a pint together seeing as it’s supper time. If you’re comfortable enough.” She added quickly, grabbing Katie’s arm as she noticed the slight shift of her body. Katie nodded and smiled back, shuddering the last remnants of the cold from outside. “I’m not a big drinker, but that does sound nice. I’d like to see a few of the older pubs before we go. I’ve always wanted to see the Tower of London and “haunted” locations.” She smiled more and chuckled at Angela’s unimpressed face. “Really? Oh you’re one of those spooky chasers or whatever they’re called. Well, I can assure you that London has plenty of that but for now we need to focus on the task at hand.” Angela pressed a button up to the 14th floor and walked in, holding the elevator door for Katie. The ride up had the American woman’s stomach in knots as each floor made a ding noise each time they advanced a level. “Uh, you said that Mr. Pine is 38 years old? H-How long has he been working for you?” Katie swallowed, trying to calm her nerves. “You know who Roper is? Richard Roper?” She raised her eyebrows at the girl. “I’ve heard about him and of his dealings, but other than that not much else.” Katie replied, shrugging. "Well Pine is the one who took him down. That case gave me the nerves it did. I'm just glad Pine got out and decided to stay with us instead of going back to being a night manager at hotels. Charming and handsome fellow he is. He even managed to snag Roper's girl for a while but it didn't last too long. Enough about him now, you're about to find out more on him soon." The elevator made the noise signaling they had reached their destination. Katie once again had to calm herself and shake any nerves off. She had to tell herself that things were going to be ok and that she had to act professional.

The sound of their footsteps padding along the wooden floor mingled in with the raindrops hitting the window at the end of the hall. “Here we are-” Angela said under her breath and knocked on the door, “Oi! Pine, you in there?” She waited for a moment before knocking on the door again before finally hearing footsteps. Several latches were undone before the man known as “Pine” finally opened the door. Katie’s heart stopped for a moment as this man was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Her green eyes were wide as she took his appearance in from his lithe form, piercing blue eyes, dark blonde hair, chiseled jawline, and prominent forehead. Angela was right when she said he was handsome, but handsome was not a strong enough word for him. “Angela? Is there something wrong?” His deep voice caused chills to run through Katie’s body. Dear lord, not only was he stunning but his voice was enough to make a woman’s panties vanish. “No, no. Not at all. I’ve just come to introduce you to your partner for the mission ahead.” Angela stepped back, holding her arm out and slightly nudging Katie forward. Jonathan’s attention turned to the shorter woman in front of him and his expression softened a little. Shyly, Katie extended her hand out and gave a small smile “I’m Katie O’Connor uh, I have an extremely Irish name. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Pine.” She blushed and chuckled nervously at her dumb joke. Katie felt like she was in high school all over again with how awkward she felt. The American woman flinched a little as Jonathan took her hand to shake it, her eyes quickly darting away before looking back at him. This man’s hand was incredibly warm and oddly comforting, which made Katie feel a little bad that she flinched. Pine noticed her flinch, but decided against questioning her on it as it was probably just a nervous tick. He flashed a smile and returned the chuckle at her dumb joke. “The pleasure is mine and yes it is extremely Irish.” He released her hand before turning to Angela, waiting for anything else for her to tell them so he could get back to packing.

“Now that we are all settled with introductions, I will be taking Katie to show her to the flat and then making my way to pick up my little one. I expect the both of you to be at my office at 6 AM sharp with your belongings packed and ready to go. I’m just praying for the love of anything living that the train to Moscow isn’t stalled. I’ll see you tomorrow, Pine. Come on then love! Let’s get you tucked in.” Angela turned, waving to Katie. The short brunette gave a smile to Jonathan and waved shyly before hastily heading back to Angela. The man watched as the two women walked down to the elevator and was puzzled by his boss’s choice in a partner. It wasn’t that he had anything against her pick, he was more than happy to have an attractive young lady on his team. He had to wonder why Katelyn O’Connor of all people though. Pine was very much aware of who this girl was and he slid back inside of his flat, closing the door and covering his face. Flashbacks of his time serving in Iraq surge forth and the screams of his squad echoed in his brain. Tears stung his eyes as guilt crawled up into his throat from the memory of leaving Katie’s older brother behind, as he begged for help while a bomb strapped to his chest ticked away. Pine would forever blame himself for his friend’s death and wished that he had been the one to die instead of Cameron.

Once Angela had bid her farewells after showing Katie to her new home, the young woman began to set up. She had not the faintest idea that she would be sharing a flat building with her partner let alone have it be someone intimidatingly handsome. Yet, there was something odd about Jonathan Pine that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Hey Cam.” She sighed, pulling a picture of her late brother out, placing it at her bedside. “I’m here in London, can you believe it? I’m out of that house and traveling the world!” She sat on her bed and smiled to the frame. “I know you wouldn’t be too happy with me sort of following you in your footsteps, but I wanted to be just like you. Mom and Dad were really hesitant at first at letting me go but I convinced them this is a chance for me to explore the world.” She picked the picture up and licked her finger, smudging some dirt from the glass off. Katie smiled sadly as she set the picture down and felt her chest and throat warm up from the oncoming tears. “I wish you were still here to see how far I’ve come. Shit, I-I even managed to escape Travis, even if you were long gone before him. I know you still watch over me and I know you would have probably been locked up if you got a hold of him.” She chuckled through the beginning of a sob before sniffling and wiping her eyes. “I gotta get going now. I’m going to Moscow tomorrow for the beginning of my mission. I’m pretty much all set but, my boss Angela told me I should probably try to get to know my partner… H-He seems nice.” Her hands clenched together as fear now made its course through her small frame. “I don’t think h-he’ll hurt me. He’s not Travis or those nasty old men from my retail days. No he’s not.” Katie gasped suddenly, noticing that her anxiety was getting the better of her and causing her to hold her breath. She shook her head and let out a quiet sob, sitting on the bed completely before pulling her knees in on herself. Who was she kidding? She was absolutely terrified to be alone with a man taller and stronger than her. Ever since she had left her abuser, not once did Katie even consider to look for another chance at romance. This only made her fear of men worse and she even lost a few friends because of how terrified she was to go out. It was only a year ago in 2018 that she finally decided to grow a backbone and shake off whatever fear she had. She would not let the past repeat itself and uncurled herself, smacking her face with her hands and taking a deep breath in. “You’re gonna be fine little fox.” She muttered to herself, using the endearing term her brother used to call her. Katie hopped off the bed and took one last look at herself in the mirror, grimacing at her puffy eyes. She would wait before going up to ask Pine if he wanted to grab something to eat.

After about 15 minutes later, Katie calmed down and fished her worry stone from her suitcase. Naturally, it was a Petoskey stone from a camping trip back home. She shoved it into her pocket before grabbing her jacket as she had underestimated London’s weather earlier. “Keys, phone, wallet, knife, spray, money, lock pick, ok I think I’m good.” She huffed, looking down at her attire she changed into as the skirt from earlier had proven to be a poor choice. Instead, she opted for a large hoodie, skinny jeans, sneakers, socks, jacket, and a tee shirt under her hoodie. She was cozy and felt that this was appropriate for the weather. Locking her door, she headed to the elevator and reached Pine’s floor. She felt less anxious than the first time she had walked down with Angela. Nervously, she raised her hand as she arrived at Pine’s flat and knocked on the wood door. “Uh, Pine?” her voice cracked and she shoved her hands into her pockets. Once again, several locks were unlatched before the door opened with Jonathan looking surprised to see her. “Oh, hey! Er, Katie yeah?” He gave a fake smile, trying to not think about her brother and his guilt over his death. “Y-Yeah! Uh you don’t have to but uh, Angela suggested that maybe uh… We go grab a pint? Maybe get to know each other a little before we buckle down? I-If not that’s totally cool, I get it.” The brunette held her hands up and gave an awkward grin. She low key hoped he would say no and save her the trouble of being a nervous wreck.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea actually.” He replied.

“What? Wait, you will? Great! Great… Do you need a sec?” She leaned back and forth on her heels, her stomach growling and also in knots from his answer.

Jonathan shook his head and opened his door, offering her to come in. It would sincerely be rude and weird of her to decline his offer so she obliged. When she brushed past him, Katie almost froze as he smelled faintly of cigarettes and a delicious cologne. The scent made her cheeks turn a bright pink and her head spin slightly. “So what state are you from?” He already knew the answer, he just had to play it low as he searched for his keys. “Michigan. I’m from Metamora which issss… Here.” She held her right hand up and pointed to the spot. Sometimes Katie was rather lucky she lived in the mitten shaped state as it was easy to point out where she lived. Pine gave a smile and chuckled a little at her literal handy map, “You can also use your left hand for the Upper Peninsula, yeah?” He raised his brows at her and chuckled again as she immediately held her left hand over her right. A smile cracked across her face at his amusement. “It’s really pretty in the fall where I’m from. My folks actually own a place up in Tawas which is here,” She pointed it out “And my grandparents own a place in Caseville here.” She moved her finger down. Finally, Pine found his keys and looked at Katie, nodding his head to the door. "So I assume you spent summers on the lake then? Which one is that, lake huron?" It was hard for Pine not to just tell her he already knew everything about where she grew up. Cameron always talked about Katie during their down time and how he loved his little sister. In fact, she was the reason he joined the army in the first place so he could protect her. Jonathan had seen many pictures of Katie as a child and seeing her now was almost surreal as she looked nothing like the pictures anymore; aside from the brown hair and large green eyes. She had grown up beautifully and Jonathan couldn't deny that she was quite a catch. He shook his head thinking if Cameron were still here he would kick his ass for even thinking about Katie like that.

"Yeah all the time. I was practically a fish and would come out a lobster from how burned I was." She laughed at a pleasant memory. "Anyways, I'll let you pick where to go since this is my first time outside of America." The shared feeling of discomfort eased out with the change of subject. After a few more minutes of walking, the pair finally made a decision and headed inside a cozy pub.

The ambience of an English pub was unlike anything that an American pub ever hoped to compare to. Katie looked around in awe as they were given a table to sit at. "You were certainly right about it being your first time out of the country. You look like a Deer in headlights." Pine snorted, nodding at the younger woman. The brunette shook her head and blushed a little at her companion's jeer. "Don't be making fun of me the minute we just met!" She smiled at Jonathan and laughed a little, feeling at ease with the weirdly relaxing atmosphere. "Sorry, my mistake. I should have said you look like a tiny deer in headlights." Pine grinned and flipped the menu open, amused at the pout he was given as a reaction. "Oh now you're going after my height? I totally didn't ask to get the shit end of the stick when it came to how tall I would be." Katie rolled her eyes and snorted. The two thanked their waiter as waters were brought over and placed their orders. Jonathan leaned forward a little, smirking "You could have asked whoever was giving you the "shit end of the stick" to perhaps lower it a bit-" he gave a chuckle as Katie scoffed and playfully hit his shoulder. He didn't feel bad about his jokes at all as he had her giggling and amused. Much like Cameron, she fired back with insults of her own and seemed to even pick up on a bit of English humor despite never having been here. She must have been exposed to it when Cameron came home from duty. Pine took a swig of his beer and licked his lips, truly examining his soon to be partner. While she was short in height, she had a nice hour glass shaped body with curves to compliment her in the right areas. Naturally, his eyes lingered upon the ample bust of her chest causing a slight arousal to stir within him. Katie took a bite of her food before washing it down with her water. She decided against drinking that night as her excuse was "Moscow better serve if we get the chance to dip into the motherlands true Vodka" and she said it with a perfect accent. "So what did you do before all of this?" She bit into a pub fry and raised her brows, finding herself at ease with him. This was the first time in a long time she had felt truly comfortable with a man and she had to give herself an inward cheer for it. "I am going to assume that Angela told you I managed hotels?" He mimicked her expression and leaned back, taking another swig of his beer. Katie nodded and took another fry into her mouth, waiting for him to continue. Pine was a bit hesitant to tell her that he served as they were having a great night and started an understanding of each other. He certainly didn't want to ruin the evening with his own guilt and trying to come up with the excuse of not being able to help her brother and that it was his fault he died. "I… I served. Two tours in Iraq." He tested the waters and immediately should have known not to say anything as he noticed Katie's expression change.

"Oh. Uh, I-I had a brother who served too. His name was Cameron." Her green eyes darted away and fingers tapped on the glass of her water. The brunette's heart sank as pieces began to fall together. She had seen Jonathan Pine before in pictures that her brother sent home. Albeit, he was younger and still very much handsome. Any chemistry that had built between the two was now gone and panic struck Jonathan. "Kate, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before." He noticed her shift uncomfortably and start to pack her belongings. She froze at the name he called her as only Cameron referred to her by that. "Do NOT call me Kate." Tears welled up in her eyes and she stood abruptly, pulling her money out and nervously shuffling over to where she had to pay. This was the friend who told her brother all of the jokes that he gave unto her. This was one of Cameron's best friends… And the very person who watched him die. She felt around her pockets and noticed her phone was gone. Quickly she head back over and gave Pine one last look, "See you tomorrow." She muttered before rushing out as fast as she could. The pub was relatively close to their flat so she didn't need any sort of guidance. Jonathan grit his teeth together and ran a hand through his short curly locks. Brilliant. Some spy he was. How in the world was he supposed to work with the little sister of the friend he killed while on duty? Only time would tell and Pine certainly hoped like hell that it would heal the wound too.

#the night manager #flowers in blood #the night manager canon divergence #fanfic #jonathan pine x ofc #my writing #writing #angela burr #jonathan pine #rob singhal #ofc #spies in love

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shadowfromthestarlight · 4 years

Text

Testing

I’ve been reading up on IQ and what it all means, and I fall into the moderate camp - testing measures something, all right, but it doesn’t measure enough.

I’m a good test-taker and I think tests are an awful way to determine which kinds of work you should pursue. Beyond some basic cutoffs (below 70 a person will need lifelong support, if you’re at about 115 or 120 you can pursue almost any profession, 130 and up a student would benefit from gifted programs), IQ is not very useful.

I found the bar exam easy and scored in about the 95th percentile. I was always the type of student who would much rather take a test, write a paper, or sit in a group having a philosophical discussion, than do a practical project. I do really well on tests of raw verbal reasoning, analytical reasoning, etc. The types of questions asked on IQ tests are mostly easy and fun for me. I am great at pattern recognition, analogies, and dissecting arguments. As a child, I was able to read without being formally taught, was curious about the wider universe, and liked to think about deep, existential questions. I was an honor student at a highly-ranked private high school, graduated from college magna cum laude, and got a full scholarship to law school. Teachers and professors often described me as very bright. And yet, if you observed me going about my average day, you’d be forgiven for thinking I was a complete idiot.

I’m indecisive and spontaneous. I have poor executive functioning. I’m not great at thinking on my feet and am often inarticulate and stumble over words. I have maybe an average sense of direction at best. I’m bad at knowing where I am in space; I bump into or trip over things all the time. I’m not good at knowing how to complete a task, or what I’m responsible for in a work setting, unless I’m given explicit, unambiguous directions. I’d describe myself as “one of those people who never has any idea what’s going on.” I’m not good at working with my hands. Rather than feel superior to people working in the trades, I’m often jealous of their practical abilities. Again, I’d much rather write down some answers on a piece of paper than actually have to do anything.

Former President George W. Bush is a good example of a person whose raw mental ability doesn’t frequently translate to practical ability. With an IQ in the mid-120′s, he’s objectively bright. People who have had private conversations with him think his analytical abilities are well above average. Yet, in public, he often appeared to be less intelligent than he really was, and he was not an excellent president in terms of achievement (though he is a much better person than most presidents we’ve had in recent decades).

Testing can be misleading. That is because it measures certain abilities in a vacuum. I don’t deny that testing can measure someone’s raw abilities in logical reasoning, reading comprehension, etc. But it doesn’t measure how well a person will translate those abilities into action. On paper, I present as a person of above-average ability. But that’s not enough of an indicator of what I should be doing with my life. If I was in a high-level managerial position, I would probably do a lot of harm not through malice but through sheer incompetence. I would never trust myself to do a job where people’s lives were on the line, because of my difficulty organizing thoughts, making judgments, focusing, and following directions that aren’t 100% clear in the heat of the moment. I’m smart, but that doesn’t mean I can “do anything.”

I actually think no one should be told that they can be “anything” they want to be, as that all depends on a mix of character traits, general intelligence, and specific talents. Testing can provide some general guidance, giving people an idea of which goals are within reach if they work hard enough, and which goals are simply unreasonable to pursue. At the same time, it’s not a complete picture. Knowing that you are objectively smart can boost your motivation to learn and grow professionally and personally, but it doesn’t, in and of itself, tell you whether you should be a lawyer, a doctor, an engineer, a teacher, or a freelance travel photographer. That depends on a whole host of other characteristics and external circumstances.

TL;DR Testing for raw intellectual capacity has some uses, but what you do with your life depends on much more.

#intelligence #education #IQ #space cadet #actually autistic #executive functioning #george w. bush

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dingoat · 4 years

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Relationship Asks for Ahuska and Five: 2, 4, 7, 16, 17, 18, 19, 21, 22, 23, 27, 28, 29.

OH BOY OH BOY *cracks knuckles* time for another round of BEST GIRL VS WORST BOY.

Obviously this one needs a ‘read more’ (or ‘stick it behind a cut’ as my old school livejournal brain still thinks of it) because it’s gonna be a looonnnng one ahahaha. Some of these I’ve answered already but I’m just gonna copy-paste the responses here to keep it all together, especially since I’m gonna go through question by question for the sake of fun comparisons/contrasts rather than character by character!

2. ♥ When they have a crush on someone, how do they let them know?

Ahuska finds ways to be around them as much as possible and offers rapt attention to everything they say and do, showing interest in every part of their life, even the things she’d never given a second thought for beforehand. She’ll initiate physical contact, often in that ‘accidental’ sort of way- a hand touch that lingers, sliding down a bench a little ‘too far’ and winding up pressed together at the hips, feet bumping under a table, but sometimes more overt things like snuggling down and resting her head in a lap while staying up late watching holos might happen...

Five does not crush, he’s not twelve years old. When he has an interest in someone he may spend a period of time testing for compatability, pushing and pressing for reactions, and if he finds himself still interested (but for whatever reason nothing has naturally escalated in the meanwhile), he will quite simply and overtly request private company.

4. ♥ Do they spend a lot of time in the courting stage or attempt to get to first base as fast as possible?

Ahuska likes the thought of a long courtship, being wooed and pursued, teasing and flirting and yearning... but though she doesn’t actively try to rush her way to ‘first base’, precedent definitely suggests that once the option is there, no matter the time frame, she doesn’t really hesitate.

Five considers ‘first base’ (if you must phrase it in such a juvenile fashion) to be a starting point.

7. ♥ How do they feel about polygamy?

Ahuska’s intial gut reaction, when asked, is that it’s vastly preferable to having an affair! She thinks it’s a perfectly acceptable style of relationship, but it’s not something she’s ever related to herself- the thought that she might ever find herself loving and desiring more than one someone so deeply as to want them in her life to the same degree seems so beyond the realms of possibility that it’s just never crossed her mind. (Yet.)

However; she is incredibly committed and loyal in her relationships, and if she did find herself in such a place, she wouldn’t be able to handle sneaking behind backs or lies or secrecy; the guilt and misery and betrayal of trust would be the end of her. She would have to either leave one forever unrecognised/unsatisfied, or give polygamy some long and serious thought and very open discussion.

Five doesn’t really care what other people do, but it’s irrelevant to him because it suggests any kind of committed relationship at all. He simply sees who he wants, when he wants, and if anyone gets jealous of anyone else then that sounds like a them problem.

16. ♥ Do they have at least one bonding activity they devote to doing with their partner exclusively?

Aside from the obvious, I’m not sure Ahuska makes a point of keeping any particular activity exclusive? Sweet, potentially romantic activities like stargazing and long moonlit walks might naturally happen far more with the love of her life, but I don’t think she’d ever turn down the chance to do so with a close friend either (there’d just be less... hand-holding and cheek snuggles).

One might have thought that Five had a whole host of bonding activities exclusive to a single particular person... but what with that being more of a Watcher-Cipher thing, rather than a partners thing, that ‘exclusivity’ no longer exactly completely applies, whoops. (Granted, the new Cipher is not likely to ever experience the push-off-a-building trust exercise.) That said, it’s very likely that Thirteen is actually the only person who gets to experience Five in the context of completely casual, physical, and dare I say... affectionate company.

17. ♥ What sort of characteristics or quirks draw them to someone?

Ahuska needs to see the capacity for kindness, even if it’s wrapped in a crude, brash or sharp-edged package- or maybe especially so, because she is a little bit hopeless for a show of snark, cheek, and sharp wit (provided it’s not at her expense) and someone not afraid to draw blood to protect what they care about. She loves unexpected talents like dance or musical ability being sprung on her out of the blue, and she’s weak for demonstrations of confident competence.

Five is drawn to someone who can give and take as well as he can. Intelligence, attractiveness, skill. Wit and snark quite specifically at his expense so he has the opportunity to fight back; he wants to be challenged, but not beaten. His heart thunders for someone more physically capable than himself who he can, nonetheless, bring to their knees.

18. ♥ Do they have a ‘type’?

I thought Ahuska had a type, but I seem to have discovered that her heart is not quite so specific and compatability can come in more than one shape and size. She has a lot of love to give and can find it in very unexpected places.

Five definitely goes for people who demonstrate one very specific physical characteristic.

19. ♥ What was their first impression about their partner/person they are courting?

When Ahuska first saw Crow, she was struck with the fact that he didn’t carry himself with the alpha-dog machismo she’d come to expect from fellow Mandalorians of his particular demographic. And when he turned his grin her way, he very very firmly snared her attention.

When Ahuska first met Blakk, she simply thought he was a delightful, feisty, dear little fox, and was absolutely besotted with him, if not in the way that she eventually became (after the wildest possible ride of misunderstandings and twisted events and broken trust and reforged faith).

Five, I think, would have made a very swift and completely superficial assessment, found it very pleasing (provided there was no fashion disaster occurring at the time), and opened himself up to learning more. It wouldn’t have taken long to be drawn into that personality, either.

21. ♥ What was the most romantic time they had with their partner?

Ahuska’s most romantic time with Crow would almost definitely be their space-walk through the ice fields of Saleucami, followed by some slightly less life-threatening zero gravity playtime within the safety of their ship’s cargo hold. They’ve had a lot of terribly sweet moments but I’m not sure that any compare to that honeymoon trip.

With Blakk, Ahuska has experienced a number of wonderfully romantic moments... in their shared dreams. It can be hard to compete with a world where auroras and starlight of your own creation dance to the beat of your hearts as you discover just how real you are to one another, but in many ways that last morning they spent together in person before parting, before anything between them was properly admitted or understood, waking to the warmth of the sun and sharing a long breakfast together full of soft yearning and denial of the inevitable separation to come ranks very high on the heart aching romance scale.

Five understands ‘textbook romance’ perfectly well and has probably walked through all the steps with great success a number of times when seducing marks back in his Cipher days. But when it comes to his own actual desires….. it really is hard to apply the word ‘romantic’. Granted, he does enjoy the finer things in life and takes great pride in being a very good cook, and a certain someone knows exactly how to push his buttons to get most exactly what he wants out of him when he feels like it. So there probably have been some almost ‘nice’ evenings of home cooked meals and fine wine and bath oils, at least to begin with….?

22. ♥ Tell us about a sacrifice they made for their significant other.

Ahuska gave up Clan life, the chance to rise through the ranks and be the Mandalorian she never thought she could, and a lot of her innocence, to be with and stay with Crow.

For Blakk, Ahuska broke off her current romance, turned her back on her safety net, and basically gave up everything she had... just for the hope that they might find away to actually be together.

Five gave up a significant measure of control on two distinct occassions, both of which were considerably big deals for him.

23. ♥ Do they apologize to their partner even if it wasn’t their fault?

Ahuska will readily and even pre-emptively take on the blame for almost anything. If something is genuinely her fault, she will apologise profusely and genuinely, probably through tears, and feel bad about it long after forgiveness has been given. She will offer apologies even when not directly at fault if she thinks it will help to calm down or diffuse a situation.

Five, though, doesn’t do the ‘accepting blame’ thing and certainly won’t shoulder somebody else’s. The one occassion where he has accepted responsibility, he’s never actually said the word sorry aloud, and he’s not even come clean about the real circumstances. But his guilt over the matter is expressed still to this day, through actions and gifts that are never actually directly linked to the event in question.

27. ♥ Have they had dreams about their partner/the person they are courting?

Ahuska most certainly has; dreams are a significant part of every reality she experiences, and often a way that binds them together, so naturally the significant people in her life feature prominently. She’s leery of anything that has a sense of being prophetic, but does believe she’s witnessed possible futures in her dreams and the ones that suggest a long and full life with Crow are her favourites.

Through her Force-bond with Blakk, she’s been able to actually share dreams with him, which have been very profound experiences... but at the moment her dreams are only dreams, and any real senses she gets of him vanish the moment she tries to focus enough to actually reach him. It hurts.

Five dreams as anyone does, and there’s no doubt Thirteen would feature in them regularly. Nothing magical, nothing profound or prophetic, just good old fashioned disjointed images that the brain strings together in a loose approximation of a plot. What’s most disconcerting is if he makes any sort of appearance in his recurring nightmares.

28. ♥ Do they understand their partners/person they are courting’s feelings without them having to say anything?

Ahuska becomes very attuned to the people she cares most about; she’s naturally a very sensitive person who wants to understand her partners’ feelings, and her desire to understand and do the best for the people she loves is only ever enhanced by her connection to the Force. She’s connected to Crow through all their years and shared experiences together, and being tuned into the beat of his heart definitely helps her know his feelings despite what he might show on the outside. With Blakk she has the benefit of being literally bonded through the Force but... well. Hopefully they wind up back in a position where understanding one anothers’ feelings is a legitimate thing they can do. ;_;

Five is quite astute, if not completely fool-proof, and when he puts the effort in can do quite a servicable job of knowing where someone’s feelings are at- manipulation is one of the tools of his trade, after all. Just how much he actually cares to do so is a different story, but, well... stranger things have certainly happened. He might try to claim that Thirteen is an open book to him, but that might just be what Thirteen wants him to think.

29. ♥ How do they express their love to their partner?

Ahuska gives freely and openly, her time, her energy, her patience, her body and soul. She will share anything and everything, she will take risks for her partner and forsake all the rest of the galaxy for them. She will find little tokens to gift them; she will feature them amongst her sketches regularly, she will listen to them and back them up and walk beside them on the most foolardy of pursuits. She will find what matters to them, she will discover what they react and respond to best, and she will make it so. Ahuska doesn’t know how to love in any way other than giving it her all.

Five would never use so soft and loaded a term as ‘love’. That is for a completely different caliber of people, people he cares little for. Allowing someone into his apartment, into his personal space, is a reasonable demonstration fo trust. Giving someone his time outside of and completely unrelated to work is a monumental demonstration of fondness. A willingness to touch and be touched outside of immediate bedroom activities is a grand display of affection. Offering financial assistance/security is an unspoken indication that someone matters to him. Lump it all together and he’d still sooner shoot himself in the foot than admit aloud that he cares.

#ahuska asks #watcher five asks #relationship asks #omg i need to go sleep #ahahaha #apologies if this is riddled with typos and chopped up sentences #what an exercise in contrasts #tyty for asking!!#i love mulling over these things #i hope the answers satisfied #I'm too tired to make an objective judgement 8)

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squishymoth · 4 years

Text

Moth’s and Lorelei’s Veggie or Vegan Sandwich Tips:

To preface this I’m kind of a picky eater, especially about textures. Most delis in my area's offerings for vegetarians are made up of various roasted veggies, avocado and cucumber, resulting in a very GOOPY unappetizing sandwich.

I also don’t subscribe to the idea that vegetarians should only eat vegetables, and that fake meats are all flavorless and pointless. Most of the tastiest vegetarian sandwiches I’ve had include fake meats.

Nothing I’ve written here is crazy insightful or revolutionary but if anything here helps someone make a tasty vegetarian or vegan sammy I will be happy.

Additions specifically written by my lovely girlfriend Lorelei are marked (L) for Luigi.

Sandwich thoughts below the cut!

Fake Meat:

I will start with the cheaper, easier to find fake meats. Good vege sandwiches should be accessible IMO. I believe these brands will be more widely available and you won’t have to go to a specialty health food store to find em.

Morning Star Farms Bacon:

The MSF bacon is salty and savory and can be as crispy or chewy as you like. Just cook it a couple minutes on either side in a dry non-stick pan. I’m not sure that it tastes exactly like bacon, but it’s strong point is that it has a good flavor all on its own which is what I think defines any good vege meat.

Morning Star Chik Patties:

A great chik’n patty if you are looking for a crispy chicken sandwich, easy to cook in the skillet or the microwave (both ways come out tasty and crispy). Overall Morning Star has good stuff and is widely available.

Tofurkey:

really succeeds at a lunch meat texture and has a subtle savory flavor that allows it to support other sandwich ingredients.

Fancier Fake Meats:

Green Slice Meatless Deli Slices:

(WARNING not all of them are vegan some use egg white) I’ve often wondered why there was no vege ham alternative, on a recent grocery run I discovered there was one! Green Slice’s applewood smoked slice (I have only tried this flavor, but I’m sure the others are also good) these have a lovely very meat-like texture and flavor. My only quibble is that they are very small and there aren’t that many.

Sweet Earth Facon:

This bacon smells amazing and tastes very bacony. It is cooked in oil, make sure to use paper towel to blot off extra oil.

Light Life Smoky Tempeh Bacon:

Tempeh itself gets a bad rap (you have to cook it in a very specific way), but honestly for sandwiches tempeh is not worth using unless its smokey tempeh bacon. It has a lovely flavor, but it is a very different experience to the other two facons in this list. Imagine it as the contrast between your typical everyday bacon and a thick cut, pepper corn encrusted, artisanal bacon. It is thicker and chewier, but has a delicious smoky sweet flavor.

Tofu:

Pan Seared Tofu:

Ok if you’re really not into fake meats or you just like tasty tofu here is a home made, very tasty, and pretty all purpose recipe for a tofu sandwich filling. This recipe is from The Pho Cookbook by Andrea Nguyen. Best part about it, no need to press! Cooking it in the pan before adding oil drives off water super well, and gives a really unique tenderness. We eat this on it’s own, it’s that good!

Ingredients: firm tofu, 1 TBSP neutral oil, 1 TBSP soy sauce (optional in this case if it doesn’t fit the VIBE of your sandwich, if you leave out the soy sauce make sure to compensate with other umami ingredients in the sandwich)

Instruction: cut your tofu into desired shape (triangle or domino or whatever) put them in a DRY non stick pan, and drizzle with soy sauce on both sides (if desired, salt and pepper could also be used).

Cook on medium without disturbing the pieces for ~5 mins.

Drizzle with oil and then flip them, allow the second side to cook for ~5 mins.

To check if the second side is ready try shaking the pan a little, if the tofu moves you can flip. If they are not to your desired brownness flip again and allow to continue cooking until you are satisfied. You are looking for a mottled brown color.

Crispy Tofu:

If you are looking for a crispier tofu here is a homegrown method that I’ve learned through trial and error, also a great addition to spring rolls.

Ingredients: firm tofu, neutral oil, salt and pepper (any other seasoning you like). OPTIONAL: a sauce as in orange sauce, teriyaki, or even BBQ (never tried BBQ but it could work.)

Instructions:

Most important thing for crispy tofu is to drain and PRESS IT. I would press it for between 15-20 minutes. Either cut up your pieces to desired shape and size before pressing or press the whole block if you want to prepare a big portion.

After they are pressed and the moisture is removed, season your tofu. I’ve experimented with rolling tofu in cornstarch to add an extra crispiness but it should crisp up on its own. You may just sprinkle your desired seasoning on both sides as you like.

In a non stick pan fry tofu on both sides in oil (enough to coat your pan) on medium high heat until golden brown and crispy. When cooking tofu I’ve heard it’s good to leave it undisturbed before flipping to prevent bits sticking to the bottom and preserve inner softness. Try shaking the pan, if the tofu moves a bit it is not going to stick to the pan and lose it’s crispy outer layer. When they are finished cooking set the tofu on a paper towel to remove any excess oil.

OPTIONAL: in the last minutes of cooking add a sauce of your choosing, flip the tofu to coat.

Fats:

Avocado:

Avocado is a great addition to almost any sandwich, especially if you are vegan or lactose intolerant. It can easily take the place of cheese or mayo in 99% of sandwiches.

Vegan Cheese:

My girlfriend has tried MANY vegan cheeses and has found all of them to be disappointing. So we have no recommendations for vegan cheese.

Garlic Butter:

A tasty spread to up your sandwiches flavor. we don’t have a recipe with EXACT measurements, this is all to taste. This can be applied to any sandwich for extra flavor and fat.

Ingredients:

A couple spoonfuls of Butter/Vegan butter

1 small garlic clove (or garlic powder)

Black pepper

Italian herb blend (or pretty much any green herb, fresh or dried [dried preferred] will be tasty)

Honey (if vegan just leave out the honey)

Instructions: In a small bowl grate your garlic clove into the butter, add all other seasonings and the optional honey, and mix. Make sure and taste, if you find it under flavored add more of the flavor stuff, if it is overpowering add more butter (this can keep in the fridge if you end up with too much). Then just spread the desired amount on your toasted bread.

(L) Mayonnaise:

Ok listen, it's stinky. But so is almost every cheese. It adds more of a feeling than a flavor, the fattiness can really uplift a lot of sandwiches, especially with tomato. But, if you are opposed to mayo for whatever reason, avocado, cheese, even olive oil, will fill this role. (not sure about vegan mayos but it can't be that hard to nail right? (Moth does not endorse this pro mayo stance)

(L) Vegan/Dairy freeRanch:

I don’t like ranch, but this homemade stuff really justifies it. I used normal mayo but it should work with vegan mayo. This is a very loose recipe, so tweak it to what works for you

½ cup mayonnaise (egg or plant based)

½ a lemons worth of juice

¼ cup oat milk (soy and almond milk don't play nice with savory flavor)

1 tsp garlic powder

Salt and pepper to taste

1 tbsp fine chopped fresh dill (or dried, or any green herb0

Whisk the mayo, milk, and lemon together. Add your herbs, and let it sit in the fridge overnight

This is the most important step, this time allows the garlic powder to rehydrate and the herbs to steep that give the ranch its signature flavor. Ranch is basically garlic powder sauce.

I have not tested this ratio much (ok fine at all), so trust your gut!

Also fun fact, juice of 1 lemon + 1 cup of oat milk + time = 1 cup of vegan buttermilk!

MISC:

Deli dressing:

You can buy this bottled in store or make your own at home easily. It will add that deli je ne sais quoi to a sandwich. Works best on a simple sandwich that might otherwise be lacking in flavor.

Ingredients:

Olive oil

Red wine vinegar (any vinegar should do TBH)

Italian seasoning (again some dried oregano or other similar dried herbs should be fine)

Salt and pepper

OPTIONAL: put some vinegar hot sauce (tapatio, cholula, taco bell packet, etc) in that bad boy.

Instructions: mix it UP. This is another recipe that I usually just measure out by eye and taste

Falafel: I am not very experienced in making falafel so I don’t have a recipe on hand, but they are yummy.

Sprouts: a welcome addition to almost any sandwich, earthy, light and crunchy. They are also really easy to grow in a jar at home.

Pickles: love these funny dudes, they don't play well with sweeter sandwiches though. Use your judgement.

Chips: put em in there, 12 year olds know what they're doing.

Dutch Crunch: objectively the best sandwich bread.

Coleslaw: if you dislike coleslaw maybe you’ve only had a mayo based one. The only good coleslaw is vinegar based. Thin sliced cabbage, olive oil, vinegar of choice, honey (or vegan alternative) a spoonful of grainy mustard and salt and pepper. Great on a chik’n based sandwich.

Vegetarian Sandwich Ideas:

I don’t really have anything ground breaking here but here are some of the tastiest sandwiches I’ve made. If for some reason you want to try making one of these you can add or leave off anything you like. Salt and pepper all your sandwiches. And add cheese to any if you eat cheese!

BLAT or BLA:

To start this off, I don’t like tomatoes in sandwiches, I know I’m not correct, but you can add tomatoes if you want.

Ingredients:

Garlic butter

iceberg lettuce (or any lettuce)

avocado

facon (my fav is morning star farms, a fancier facon such as smoky tempeh bacon is also good but has a completely different flavor and texture)

tomatoes (optional because I do not like them)

(L) TOMATO TIP: salt and pepper your tomatoes and let them sit a moment, also if its not tomato season cherry tomatoes are ur best bet for a decent tomato from the store.

Orange Tofu Sandwich:

A note: feel free to substitute a different sauce or to omit sauce entirely. The pan seared tofu makes a good sandwich filling without any extra sauce.

Ingredients: pan seared tofu, crispy tofu, or gardein orange chikn nuggets (these come with a packet of orange sauce)

Orange sauce

Iceberg lettuce (other lettuces or even finely chopped cabbage will be good as well)

Avocado

Thin sliced sweet or bell pepper

(L) Fancy “Ham” on Rye:

Ingredients:

Rye bread The rye bread adds a lovely funky herby note to the entire experience. Its what makes it fancy.

Green Slice applewood smoked(or any You could use tofurkey, but honestly if you find it/afford it green slice has an amazing texture and deep flavor that tofurkey doesn't. This is a simple fancy sandwich, splurging is gonna go a long way here.

Garlic Honey butter

Iceberg Lettuce (again or any other lettuce, or a mix with arugula and spinach)

Optional mayo: (L) i adore mayonnaise on this kind of sandwich, it really lets the other flavors shine. I havent tried it with avocado, my gut says it wouldnt work as good but I’m not a cop put some on there avocado is yummy.

Optional cheese a sharp cheddar or fancy gruyere.

Crispy Chik’n Sandwich:

Ingredients:

Morning Star Chik Patty (spicy one if ur spicy)

Facon (strong recommendation for morning star on this one)

Vinegary vegan coleslaw (or any lettuce iceberg is recommended and easier on the fly)

Dill pickles (pickles+crispy chicken very yummy, we specify it on this one because its almost necessary for a spicy sandwich.)

Condiments of choice (ketchup, BBQ, honey, hot sauce etc)

Deli Style Sandwich:

A really basic sandwich, add whatever other sandwich fixings you like.

Ingredients:

Tofurkey

Sprouts

Iceberg lettuce

Sandwich dressing

Avocado

Pickle or Cucumber

#vegetarian cooking #vegetarian sandwiches #vegan sandwich

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bewareofchris · 5 years

Text

illogical week | day 3

G? | Alec Hardy/Bill Masters | Broadchurch/Masters of Sex | None | “Emergency”

Alec had answered the phone; he had nobody to blame but himself. He should have learned (by now) that nothing good ever came from answering Bill’s home phone. The only people that ever called it seemed to hate Bill on a scale that could not be measured by any normal standards.

Only, this wasn’t a phone call from an errant religious group who had nothing better to do with their time. It wasn’t a sales call. It wasn’t a bill collector. It wasn’t even that one woman that seemed to hate Bill especially on Wednesdays. (Alec had no idea what that woman actually did or why she hated Bill.)

No, this was a call from the birthday party he’d dropped the youngest Masters child off at that morning. (Alec had even said to Bill, when he accepted the job, weren’t adults expected to stay with their children under such circumstances? Howard was only seven years old; that wasn’t old enough to be trusted to do anything with some sort of supervision, really.)

“His father isn’t answer his cell phone,” said the birthday mother with a hurried, worried exasperation in her voice. “If someone can’t come and get him, I’ll have to call an ambulance.”

And really, the only thing than one of Bill’s children getting hurt at a birthday part was Bill being called to the emergency room for one of his children. (Even worse might be getting called to the ER for a non-emergency.) Alec made it to the birthday party in record time. He found the knot of worried mothers standing around little Howie (as they called him) throwing a great confusing disaster of advice at him.

Someone had filled a water bottle with ice.

“I’m here,” Alec said. (Although what good he was going to be, that was largely debatable.) “What happened, what’s the injury?”

Howard looked at him with something that could only be labeled as disappointment. It wasn’t surprised disappointment, it was just resignation. (Bill Masters had been, up to this point, something of a terrible father. Alec was going to make sure that got fixed no matter the cost.) “I fell out of the tree,” Howie said. He moved the water bottle away from his bleeding palm. “My wrist really hurts.”

Alec had never been a doctor, but he’d been a father for long enough. He asked for specifics about the accident. He tested the most basic range of motion and then he said, “right, let’s go Howard.”

“Howie,” the boy said. He slid off the bench they’d put him with a glum frown. All the ladies called their well wishes and Howard nodded along as he followed Alec back toward the car. “Where’s Dad?”

“I don’t know, but I have an idea.” He looked sideways, down at the boy dragging his feet in the dirt. “Look,” he started. There was something to be said here about how parents had to work, and how what Bill did was important. But Howard didn’t even live with Bill all the time. If things didn’t change, he might not ever chose to live with Bill again. So Alec sighed and ruffled his fingers through the kid’s hair. “How about we go and kick him really hard?”

“Mom says you’re not supposed to solve your problems with violence.”

“Well, of course you aren’t. I’ve got a whole job that’s just stopping people from that or putting them in jail so they’ll remember it for the next time. But sometimes, just now and again, a good kick to the shins is called for.”

They’d come to a pause next to the car. Howie was holding his arm to his chest. His little seven year old brain was processing this new exception to the rule. He shrugged a little, “ok,” he said, “if we find him at work then we can kick him in the shins.”

They were definitely going to find Bill Masters at work.

“And then we’ll have to go see a doctor about your wrist. It doesn’t look broken but better to be safe.”

“Dad is a doctor,” Howie said. He let Alec open the car door for him and even tolerated being buckled into the backseat without any of his usual distaste at being helped. (Children were in far too much hurry to be adults, that’s what Alec thought.)

“Yeah, but we need a doctor who actually does doctor stuff,” Alec said.

The drive to the clinic was blissfully quick. The new girl that worked the front desk smiled at them as Howie darted past clutching his arm to his chest. Bill was standing in the doorway of Virginia’s office, in the middle of some sort of conversation he thought was more important than answering his phone. He wasn’t paying any attention to what was coming at him so he was wholly unprepared for his son to kick him as hard in the shin as a seven year old was capable.

“Ow!” Bill shrieked, “what--Howie? Howard, what was the meaning of--why are you holding your arm like that? How did you get here?”

Alec had his hands in his pockets, standing a comfortable distance away, just waiting for Bill to notice him. He didn’t have to wait long for the man to reach an obvious conclusion, and when Bill did look at him for answers he frowned at him.

Bill’s grip on his son’s shoulders loosened up. His face loosened out of his shocked annoyance and settled into almost the same resignation that Howard had back at the party. “Virginia, I have to take the rest of the day off.”

Her answer was probably the same as Alec’s would have been. Something about how he shouldn’t have come in at all. But there was no telling Bill Masters anything he wasn’t ready to hear.

“Let’s have a look at that,” Bill said as he guided Howie to his office.

“Alec says that we have to go see a real doctor,” Howie said.

Bill made a hum of disapproval but he said, “well, we might. Let’s just take a little look first.” He looked over at Alec, “are you coming?”

“No,” Alec said, “you’ve got this.” Because Bill was never, ever going to become a better father if you didn’t make him be one. He had all the potential; Alec had seen him with kids in other places. He had the patience for it. He doted on children. He just didn’t know how to relate to his own. “I’ll see you at home. Call me if you need something, Howard.”

“Howie,” the boy corrected again, “why can’t he ever get my name right?”

“Well,” Bill said, “he’s Scottish.”

“He’s strange,” Howie said as he led them into the office.

“Scottish and strange,” Bill agreed.

#illogicalweek2019 #illogical husbands

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pvtbenjamin-blog · 3 years

Text

The Dust That Thinks

NASA File

Designation: Classified R9

The following are extracts from the diary of Dr Kaitlin P. Brite, assigned to the mission as a civilian observer; her background is in evolutionary biology and bioinformatics. Subject passed the program A.0i and following debriefing was classified B.i.

February 7

I’ve had the same dream off and on for the past two years. I dream that I am looking at my face and that the lower half of my jaw is missing completely. I stare into my own eyes, unsure of whether I can detect a scream, or if I’m even trying to speak. The face of the other me just sits there, mute, surrounded by nothing but darkness and then I wake up.

So when they ask me what I dream about, I lie.

We’ve been keeping dream journals for the last four months and bring them with us to our weekly ‘Psy-Fit Sessions’; they give things these names, they can’t resist. At the third session several of us were reprimanded for inappropriate doodling in our dream journals.

It’s been clear since early on that what they fear most isn’t a technical or mechanical error – it’s us. Their faith in physics is rock solid; their faith in us is non-existent. Two words have accompanied each of NASA’s darkest hours; Human Error.

We riff on it,

“That guy’s got a screw loose.” –

“I hope you mean that literally, Jim.”

One guy, one of the Navy guys, said a white paper had gone around from the Prep Team appealing for a return to sending chimps into space, “They take less time, less testing, and they give better interviews”. He was a great guy, he reminded me of the first guys in the program; the PhD jocks, the Supermen. I expected all the military recruits to live up to that image, few of them did. If anything they seem to feel the stress more than us civilians, we go back to our day jobs when all this is over. But they are being assessed, they are on a ladder, and for them it’s never over.

I guess the only other dreams I really remember are of the wheat fields. In my dream it’s night but the moon is so clear and so strong that as the wind washes over the field causing a tide, the colour changes from silver to gold. Sometimes I hear my grandmother’s voice, reading to me.

A precondition of prep, along with the hours in Psy-fit, are our numerous and relentless physicals. Six bioinformatics candidates were invited from different labs but only two of us made it into the final program and I was the only one in the programme to be approved mission-ready. I’ve always been healthy, remarkably so. They don’t say these things out loud, but you can tell this comes with cachet here, that it invokes a sort of Darwinian deference.

In week two we were asked to memorise a nursery rhyme to recite when having our heart rate monitored on the treadmill, The House that Jack Built. Sweating and panting, wired up to innumerable machines, we go through the same physical and mental exercise; they gave us a prompt line from anywhere in the verse and ask us to deliver the rest from that point. Over-heat a computer and check how much RAM you can still rely upon.

This is the malt that lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the rat that ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat that killed the rat

That ate the malt that lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the dog that worried the cat

That killed the rat that ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn

That tossed the dog that worried the cat

That killed the rat that ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maiden all forlorn

That milked the cow with the crumpled horn

That tossed the dog that worried the cat

That killed the rat that ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the man all tattered and torn

That kissed the maiden all forlorn

That milked the cow with the crumpled horn

That tossed the dog that worried the cat

That killed the rat that ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn

That married the man all tattered and torn

That kissed the maiden all forlorn

That milked the cow with the crumpled horn

That tossed the dog that worried the cat

That killed the rat that ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn

That waked the priest all shaven and shorn

That married the man all tattered and torn

That kissed the maiden all forlorn

That milked the cow with the crumpled horn

That tossed the dog that worried the cat

That killed the rat that ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the farmer sowing his corn

That kept the cock that crowed in the morn

That waked the priest all shaven and shorn

That married the man all tattered and torn

That kissed the maiden all forlorn

That milked the cow with the crumpled horn

That tossed the dog that worried the cat

That killed the rat that ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the horse and the hound and the horn

That belonged to the farmer sowing his corn

That kept the cock that crowed in the morn

That waked the priest all shaven and shorn

That married the man all tattered and torn

That kissed the maiden all forlorn

That milked the cow with the crumpled horn

That tossed the dog that worried the cat

That killed the rat that ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

Feb 8-21: no records entered

Feb 22

It occurs to me that there are hardly any mirrors at NASA. It’s not that the place is completely austere exactly - there are photographs lining the public hallways, you see charts, models, a sculpture or two, sitting neglected in the airless lobby – but no mirrors. Even in the bathroom, you wash your hands staring at the wall.

We spent our first few weeks in and out of the main buildings; forms, handshakes, meetings, waiting. Then it was over to the training base; fewer faces, fewer names, routine, running, memorising. There was a lot to learn, naturally. You come to understand that up there, you will cease to function, in the way that you’d typically understand it anyway. Your body can’t do what it normally does; you have to think differently, you are learning to do things for the first time again. You will have to put in ten times the effort for the same result. You are training to become a child, inside a toy, suspended in the universe.

This is the maiden all forlorn.

The precise terms of mission statement vary but the reason given is always the same: we are to advance human understanding of the universe.

I’m coming to think that the whole mission is in fact an exercise in keep internal from external, to deal in vacuums. We are kept apart from this world that we might be made ready to explore new ones. We are asked to report on our psychological state but not to reflect. External must never meet internal, no gaps in the suit, no screws loose.

Feb 22- March 03: no records entered

March 4

They warn you about the possible side-effects, of the isolation, of removing ourselves from everything familiar. Depression, insomnia, anxiety, dissociation.

Dissociation is the one that interested me most, to be of your body but not of your mind, to be - for a short time – blissfully unaware of your own existence.

I tell the psychiatrist, the psychologist and the nurses at my meetings about the wheat field. I only did one semester of Freud and Jung and the basics, but I can’t see the harm in a wheat field. I imagine it makes me sound wholesome, grounded. I explain that in the dream, my grandmother’s voice is reading me Wuthering Heights. I never really understood the love story, but I thought of Cathy and Heathcliff out on the moors, that they must be like my windy wheat field, that they stand for every barren place.

In all of the sessions, I try to give them something; I make a good show of polite, respectful, engaged. But in truth I couldn’t have cared less. When we go into a laboratory and talk about ‘behaviour’, we are describing that which can be measured, tested, predicted. But the Psy-guys, they can predict nothing. They can test nothing. They look at the human mind, and they are measuring nothing.

Launch is t-16 days.

This is the horse and the hound and the horn.

March 5-8: no records entered

March 9

The moon has only reflected light and its gravity only serves to tell us about our own. So where are we going?

In space, certain words are released from their existence on earth; they float out of mouths, into ears, unencumbered where they were once weighted down with specific meaning. They can still be used of course but must be tethered by guide-ropes of further words, of a firmer context.

When they perfect the robots, men will be sent into space for novelty alone; the way everyone loves to see a dog on a surfboard.

Mission Dates March 10 – September 19

October 3

I’ve made lists, filled in reports, done interviews, complied with tests, affirmed facts and figures and finally they have asked for some General Reflections. If I have learned one thing in the course of the last months, it’s that NASA does not deal in ‘vague’. Shades of meaning are abhorred. In fact, I can’t think of a word taken from the French would ever be approved of. I never even saw a buffet lunch.

The truth is I don’t know just what happened and I don’t know what help I can be. I’m certain of only a handful of things: Lt. Robert Clifford Allen cannot have been in four different places at once. Two people cannot have observed him outside and inside of the craft within the space of ten minutes as it takes fifteen minutes simply to engage or disengage the outer door. Any biologist will tell you that nothing containing chemical elements ever truly disappears, it can only transform into something else. Therefor as much as it appears the only explanation, that Lt. Allen is gone, into the awesome and pitiless nothing, the only truth that can exist is that a change happened, one that we did not know how to witness nor record.

We were there primarily to observe, not even to conduct our own research. I’ve put together my observations on the program, and I suppose it will be up to others to organise my memories into something that can perhaps help to make sense of the situation.

Oct 8-21: no records entered

October 22

A human being alone is always a danger to themselves. When you are the only movement, the only sound, the only human trace, the mind will try to expand to fill the space. And fail. Eternity is too long and endlessness is too vast, and we’re helpless, alone under the sky.

Sometimes I wonder, did Lt. Allen lie about his dreams too? Did he see something like a gaping jaw, a silent scream?

It is a strange thing to think of others picking over your unordered thoughts. I was the observer and now I am the subject.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn.

Oct 22- Nov 14: no records entered

November 15

If we saw the face of God, would we recognise it for what it was? Would it be a friendly, smiling face to greet us, or will it be jawless, vacant, mute? How far away is He, and what are we to him? Are we just the dust that thinks?

Nov 16-30: no records entered

December 1

How is it possible he went missing and we were unaware? Every other crew member and observer remembers seeing him last in a different place at a different time, and the video outlay supports these reports. That is to say it can show nothing to contradict them. And the individual reports do little to contradict each other directly, but taken together, the story they tell is impossible. Lt. Robert Clifford Allen cannot have been in four different places at once.

I never really got to know Lt. Allen, everyone spoke well of him. My initial impression was that he was one of these people it’s impossible to age, he could have been thirty or fifty, only his rank was any indication and even then numerous factors can account for this marker too.

I only spoke with him directly about technical details, very little small talk. I overheard him seemingly talking to himself just once; he was looking out of Bay 2, as far as I could tell, at nothing. It sounded like he had said “darkling plain”.

Dec 2

Observing a situation changes it, so are we each responsible to some degree, reflecting the light at different angles, diffracting and interfering?

Who was Jack? What is the significance, if any, of the house that he built?

It is dangerous to go into the unknown, when we do not know ourselves.

December 3

Of course Jack is simply a cipher. Not a man, just a name. The text was in fact probably selected for its specific quality that it is as meaningless as possible, as it is not our associations that they are testing. After all this time, I don’t understand what it was they thought they were testing.

It’s not possible, is it, that we were part of a larger, unseen experiment?

**CONCLUSION OF JOURNAL ENTRIES**

Note: Each subject reported later ‘seeing’ Lt. Allen, again under different circumstances and in differing times and places. Subject 6 claimed during a psychiatric de-briefing six months after Exit Report was filed that Lt. Allen had “come to her in a dream, arms outstretched, mouthing something incomprehensible”. This was not perceived to be of value. Subject was debriefed December 9.

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twocubez · 4 years

Text

MANY THOUGHTS HEAD FULL: GLaDOS Edition

if you want to read the ramblings of a fangirl about a fucked up and evil hot robot lady from really good video game series, boy howdy did you come to the right place! treat yourself under the cut.

i just replayed portal 2, and i somehow forgot how amicable glados was when you were escaping old aperture together with her as a potato affixed to the claws of your portal gun. well i was thinking of that, and i was thinking of two other sides of her that we’ve seen, and wondering how to reconcile them. So here goes:

glados when we first meet her in portal 1 is likely nothing more than a text-to-speech device for all you know when you wake up in that little glass box. well, okay, i think pretty much all of us have been spoiled on that gradual reveal at this point given that glados being kinda fucked up and evil is pretty much common knowledge to anyone with a passing familiarity to the portal series, but ANYWAY. back to the point. when we meet her in portal 1 our dear supercomputer is very, well, computer-y. she’s by the book, to the point, and to me at least, reads more as an extension of the facility and the people (remember, at this point you aren’t supposed to notice that there’s no one in the observation rooms and suddenly recall that you haven’t actually met a human in this entire game just yet- again, time has kinda stripped the game of that twist.) in charge, who you’d imagine are probably working on smoothing out some of the glitches in her system right now. then you get to the energy pellet, then the sludge, and you realize that you might be in more danger than you thought. before you know it, you’re hiding from sentry turret gunfire in a hideout with messages written in the wall in... is that blood? when you slip out of the final measure that’s been deployed specifically to ensure that you definitely die for sure this time, something weird happens to that voice. for a second, the monotone is dropped and replaced by what sounds like genuine confusion, ran through autotune software. the further into the facility you go, the more emotion you hear in her voice, the more she tries to guilt-trip and emotionally manipulate you into returning to the test track. i just want to take a minute to mention how much i really really love this??? like my favorite line has gotta be “ Remember when the platform was sliding into the fire pit and I said 'Goodbye' and you were like 'NO WAY' and then I was all 'We pretended to murder you'? That was great!” beacause it’s just so... i don’t know how to describe it! so silly, but sincere, and just... probably pretty much unlike anything i’ve ever heard in a game, at least not outside of the portal series. anyway, i really ought to cease my fangirling and get to the goddman point: In Portal 1, GlaDOS’s personality is regulated by those cores hanging off of her. Hence, when you destroy them, her demeanor towards you shifts. When you destroy that morality core, she slips out of that robotic monotone and, with a giggle, puts on a new (pretty attractive, tbh!) voice, like only now are you getting to know who she really is. now, when portal 1 was in development, there obviously wasn’t the context of the story elements added in portal 2 yet, so for all I know, those cores were supposed to be the components of her personality themselves at that point, so essentially what you’re doing in the final confrontation of portal is taking apart glados’s personality, bit by bit, until there’s nothing left. we know that’s not the case because of the context of portal 2, but without p2 you could very easily read it that way. TL;DR: the glados we see in Portal 1 was shaped by her personality cores, and you can parse that in a couple different ways.

so, how’s glados doing these days? full disclosure, i have yet to complete all the co-op campaigns of portal, i’ve just played a little bit of art therapy with my friend. anyways from what i do know, peer review ends with atlas and p-body finding tons of new human test subjects for glados, and then after that she proceeds with testing them, with her trademark brutality. glados makes it pretty clear that she looks down on pretty much all humans wholeheartedly with her dialogue, which interests me because she wasn’t exactly like that with chell. i mean, she was cruel as hell but none of her insults were exactly based off the fact that chell was human and humans, ugh. i think the reason she’s so bitter towards humanity in the co-op campaigns might just be because of, well, chell. a human killed her, and then proved herself to be a massive pain in the ass to try to deal with via killing. “Killing you is hard.” killing chell is hard for glados, i think, in more ways then one. first of all chell never gives up, ever. my girl never goes down without a fight. second, killing chell is emotionally hard because glados has a massive crush on her. a the reason glados is Like That towards humans in the co-op campaigns from what i know about them secondhand, is twofold: humans are a pain in the ass, and you run the risk of starting to actually care about them and finding yourself disenchanted with that once delightful smell of human fear.

Okay that’s all for now, end transmission!!

#many thoughts head full #this is a new portal analysis + headcanons series #the lonely queen

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libraryscarf · 4 years

Text

here’s the fic i wrote for the promare charity e-zine, spark of hope. all the proceeds went to the nsw and qld fire services.

^^^

the ignorance of lio fotia ( ao3 )

^^^

“I think you’re mistaken.”

Lio gazes sternly across the table at Gueira and Meis, who both look somewhat shell-shocked. He can’t exactly blame them. Their display of ignorance is a bit humiliating.

“Boss,” Gueira says incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“Dead so.”

Lio takes a delicate sip of coffee from a mug printed with the declaration: I ♥ FIREFIGHTING

Meis settles his elbows on the table and leans his chin on his interlocked fingers: his debating posture. Lio sighs, setting his coffee down.

“Spit it out, please,” he says. “And my break is over in six minutes, so try not to wax too eloquent.”

Meis cracks a smile, mouth full of shark teeth.

“Oh, I don’t think it’ll take that long, Boss.”

Lio’s eyes narrow to slits. This really is a waste of time. He could have been drinking mediocre coffee in silence during his short break, rather than holding the world’s most pointless argument with his two erstwhile subordinates.

“Five minutes,” he bites out.

“Gueira,” Meis says quietly. Gueira produces a clicker, and a translucent screen shimmers into view above the table between Lio and the other two. Projected onto it is a familiar face grinning down at him. Lio frowns.

“Subject One,” says Meis. “Galo Thymos.” The words GALO THYMOS erupt across the projection in bright red block letters.

“Subject Two,” Meis continues. “Lio Fotia.” Lio beholds his own face next to Galo’s, his name blasted in the same bright red font.

Then, the on-screen Galo turns to look at the on-screen Lio, and his eyes explode into hearts.

“I rest my case,” Meis states, leaning back in his chair as Gueira clicks the hologram off. Lio looks between them, speechless at the shared idiocy of two of the smartest people he knows.

“That was your argument?”

Gueira, unable to contain himself any longer, slams both hands on the table and rattles all three of their coffee mugs.

“Boss, he couldn’t make it more obvious without tying himself up in a big bow and mailing himself to you,” he says, struggling to moderate his voice.

Lio, consummately unimpressed, takes another sip of coffee.

“I will say it only once more: you two are mistaken,” he says in a measured tone. “Galo Thymos is not carrying a torch for me.”

Gueira slumps facedown on the table. Meis pats his back comfortingly.

“Boss,” he says. “Please. Think about it. Think about it very hard.”

And to his credit, Lio does think about it.

He thinks Galo is one of the loudest, friendliest, most sanguine people he’s ever met.

Lio thinks that Galo is a person who shows affection through physicality. And he also thinks that Galo feels affection towards a great many people. He shows it in the way he ruffles Aina’s hair when she passes, or slaps Varys’ shoulder after a particularly heroic mission, or hoists Lucia onto his shoulders so she can reach the top shelf without climbing onto the counter. Galo has an astonishingly large heart: one that seeks others, and is indiscriminate in its efforts to warm and be warmed.

But Lio cannot afford to misappropriate any warmth Galo has directed his way. He doesn’t think his own heart—the stunted, anemic thing it is—could weather a disappointment.

“All right,” he says. “I’ve thought about it.”

“And…?” Meis leans forward. Gueira’s thick eyebrows furrow in anticipation.

“I think I’ll give you both double shifts if you have enough time to make slideshows about my love life.”

: : :

To their credit, they don’t bring Lio another visual aid. But the next time Meis and Gueira corner him, it’s with Galo himself as the test subject.

“Hey. Boss.”

Lio pointedly does not look up, his eyes scanning the claustrophobic text of the Promepolis Post’s front page. Galo is all the way over on the other side of the room, doing something loud and unnecessary to his Matoi with Lucia’s enthusiastic assistance.

“Boss!” Gueira’s whisper is urgent.

“I’m reading.”

“No,” Meis says. “You aren’t.”

Lio reluctantly folds the newspaper.

“Do you two ever actually do any work?” he demands, matching their low voices.

Meis arches a graceful eyebrow. “Deflecting already, Boss?”

“I’m not deflecting,” Lio growls. “What is it this time?”

Gueira just grins as Aina walks into the room, tossing her Burning Rescue jacket onto the couch.

“Just watch. Hey, Aina!”

She looks up, then comes over to their table. Her eyes dart between Meis and Gueira, and then to Lio, reading the silent tension.

“What’s up?” she asks, almost suspiciously.

“Why don’t you tell the big guy he did good out there today?”

Aina narrows her eyes. Gueira’s face splits into an even wider grin.

“Galo?” she asks. “Why?”

Lio snatches up the newspaper again, stuffing his nose in it.

“They’re worse than bloodhounds, Aina,” he says from deep within the pages. “Just do whatever it takes to get them off your scent.”

Aina, thoroughly baffled, turns around.

“Hey, Galo,” she calls out. “Good job out there today!”

Galo stops fiddling with his Matoi and looks up. Lio hazards a glance at his face, and nearly goes blind from the smile on it. He sinks back into the newspaper, heart crashing against his ribs like a caged animal. That smile is a public health hazard. Surely there are laws.

“Thanks, Aina!” Galo replies. “You too! You should show off your fancy flyin’ more often.”

Lucia taps his elbow, returning his attention to something Matoi-related, and Aina glances quizzically at the three former Burnish.

“Any of you feel like telling me what that was about?” she asks.

“Not really,” Gueira says. “But thanks!”

As Aina walks away, muttering under her breath, Lio’s head emerges from the newspaper.

“I can only assume that had something to do with your absurd hypothesis.”

Meis rests his chin in one palm, his eyes full of cold deliberation.

“You forced our hand, Boss.”

Meis cuts his eyes over to Galo, who seems, if Lio’s interpretation of his gestures is accurate, to be pressing Lucia to add a laser-cannon to his Matoi Tech.

“And now it’s your turn,” Gueira says.

Lio balks. “Wait, wh—”

“So Boss,” Meis’ voice isn’t loud, but it cuts through the air like a scythe through wheat. “What was it you were saying earlier about that big lug’s firefighting technique?”

On the other side of the room, something metallic hits the ground with a deep clunk, like a wrench being dropped.

“Yeah!” Gueira chimes in. “How did you put it, exactly? I can’t seem to remember the specifics.”

Lio wishes he could still summon hellfire to his fingertips, because both his former generals could look a bit less delighted at the way Galo has abandoned any interest in his Matoi Tech.

“Did I mention anything of the sort?” Lio grits out. “Or are you sure you didn’t just imagine it?”

Meis and Gueira are struggling to keep their composure as Galo unsubtly maneuvers himself into better earshot.

“No, Boss, you definitely had thoughts,” Gueira says weakly.

It doesn’t take much to untangle their little scheme. They asked Aina to compliment Galo first, so Lio could see his normal response. Apparently they expect his reaction to Lio’s praise to be a bit more spectacular.

They are fools.

Lio sighs. It’s a shame, really, that his friends’ intelligence departed along with their Promare.

“Very well,” he breathes. Then, in a voice barely above a murmur, he says: “Yes, I suppose Galo did a fine job toda—”

Lio’s voice chokes off as Galo materializes next to the table, his expression rapt.

“You do?!” he cries out, overjoyed.

Gueira makes a bizarre noise, like a strangled cat, and vanishes under the table. Meis steeples his fingers and hides the lower half of his face behind them.

Lio stares up at Galo. Everything inside his head evaporates, replaced by high-pitched, keening static.

“Do I…what?” he asks numbly.

It’s so hard to think with Galo’s abs just. Right there.

“You think I did a good job!” Galo looks like someone has just offered him unlimited free pizza, and also the moon.

“Well,” Lio manages to say, “You did.”

Meis and Gueira are both making odd sounds, and in the small part of Lio’s brain that isn’t buzzing, he realizes they’re trying to suppress laughter.

“I’m so happy!” Galo proclaims, as though his blinding smile doesn’t adequately communicate that.

The wheels of Lio’s mind slowly creak back into motion.

Yes, he has to acknowledge, it does seem that Galo…greatly values his feedback. As a colleague, of course.

Because that’s really what they are: colleagues. Possibly friends, Lio admits. Friends, who have in the very recent past piloted a planet-sized mechanical monstrosity fueled by fire and human spirit, and maybe…perhaps there is a little affection there, but nothing more.

“I think you did a wonderful job too, Lio!”

And Galo grips him by the arms, lifting him bodily out of his seat and pulling him into his chest. Gueira and Meis flee the room, cackling like hyenas.

“I think you do everything wonderfully!”

“Galo,” Lio wheezes as he’s crushed against Galo’s solid pecs. “Ow—”

After some squirming, he loosens Galo’s grip on him enough to stare him dead in the face.

“Put me down.”

Galo’s eyes go wide.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

Galo gently lowers him until his feet touch the floor again. Lio straightens his clothes, then squares himself to face Galo.

“All right. What the hell was that?”

The ecstatic look on Galo’s face slides into a hesitant, kicked-puppy expression. Lio’s heart promptly rips itself in half.

“I just—” Galo says, right as Lio jumps in: “Never mind, it’s fine—”

They stare at each other, locked in silent misery on two sides of an invisible wall.

“For fuck’s sake!” Lucia explodes. Galo and Lio both jump. They’d forgotten she was still in the room. “This is a thousand times worse than watching Remi try to waltz with his alligator girlfriend.”

“Really?” replies Aina, who has been on the couch the entire time. “Because that was pretty bad.”

Before Lio can ask “what alligator girlfriend,” Galo cups his face in his (large, warm) hands.

“I’m sorry I lost my cool there, Lio,” he says earnestly. “I just thought…maybe, at last, you had…”

“Had what?” Lio asks, his voice weak and punched-out.

“I thought you were finally starting to like me.” Galo’s eyebrows scrunch together, adorably. “Back, I mean.”

In the recesses of his mind, Lio wonders if Galo accidentally choked him into unconsciousness and this is all a dream.

“Like you…back?”

“Yeah. I thought I was being too obvious about it—I mean, everyone told me I was being really aggressive, so I tried to dial it back, but I’m not good at that, and…”

Galo’s voice fades into static, because Lio’s brain has turned to water. He wouldn’t be surprised if it melted right out his ears.

Obvious. Aggressive.

“Idiot,” whispers Lio.

“Yeah,” Galo says sadly. “I guess so.”

“No. Not you.”

Galo’s eyebrows scrunch even closer together. He’s still cupping Lio’s face.

Lio doubles down.

“I’m going to do something now,” he says. “That I think will save us some time.”

He goes on tiptoe, and presses his lips to Galo’s.

It’s a peck, really: quick and chaste, but Lio still feels like he jammed a fork into an electrical socket. As they separate, the look on Galo’s face suggests he feels something similar.

“You’re right,” he says, gravelly. “That does save time.”

“Should we save some more?”

Galo, temporarily mute, nods, and pulls Lio in for a considerably longer and less chaste kiss.

Lucia cups her hands around her mouth and hollers: “Yooo, everybody, it’s finally happening!”

Aina chides: “Come on, they don’t need everyone watching.”

Lucia just guffaws. “Sore because you owe me twenty bucks now, huh?”

#scarfwrites #galolio #galolio fanfiction #promare #promare fanfiction #lio fotia voice due to personal reasons i have decided to be a dumbass

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rivkahstudies · 5 years

Note

do you have any advice for a high school senior who wants to make the most of their last year of high school? asking for a friend :)

hi darling! I think the things I remember most from my senior year (though it was only two years ago that it started) can be summarized in, “crazy busy, crazy stressful, but at times, crazy fun.” Here’s to making the most of it, and maintaining health while you do so!

This is going to be combination masterpost and advice post, because I’ve accumulated a lot on this subject and I have a loooot to say.

Also this is heavily based off of the assumption you’re pursuing higher education, but some of these things still apply/can be tweaked.

table of contents:

i. academics

ii. social life

iii. personal health

i. 𝓪𝓬𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓬𝓼

a. grades

They’re important for your future if your plan is to go to college or academy, but they’re not the whole world. (see social life and personal health)

I’m not a big fan of the “3-to-1 rule” or other such things that tell you “study for this amount of time no matter what” because it’s important for you to understand what comes naturally to you and what you need further clarification on. Some classes are going to take up less of your time than others.

The best you can do on a given day isn’t necessarily 100%. Sometimes your best that day is 90%, 80%, 60%. “try your best” isn’t “your best ever” so don’t push yourself for 100s every time for the expense of categories ii and iii.

A lot of people (at least in places like where I went to high school) who are hung up on the stress of competition and the need to be The Best™ are going to ask you for grades. It’s going to be everywhere. Assignment grades, test grades, SATs, ACTs, (if you’re not in the US, the equivalents of your state, regional, or national standardized tests), entrance exams, et cetera, et cetera. I know it’s tempting to fall into the anxiety of whether you measure up, but here’s a quick tip: even if you think you did well/above average, you can keep it private. It infuriated my classmates when I wouldn’t share, because I was comfortable with how I competed with myself and didn’t care what my peers thought of my scores.

When you’re someone as dedicated to studying as I am, you might get a lot of “oh, you got that grade because you’re you” (the underlying implication being that it’s natural or the work is easy for you, which was not the case for me) or “ha! I got higher than (name)! I measure up!” This is a lot of their own biases and insecurity talking and the best way not to be affected is not to buy into it. Again, this is based on my own experience.

I really cannot emphasize extra credit enough because some of my teachers threw it around like candy and some of them barely drizzled a little in at intervals, but either way it really saved me when it came to rounding my grades up.

It never hurts to have a grade tracker if you’re concerned, you don’t get graded by total points accumulation/have a weighted system, and/or don’t have an easy way to access your grades online throughout the year.

find your study strategy/ies for each class and stick to it/them. It won’t necessarily be the same. I’m a primarily visual learner, and it really, really helps for most things, but I still need rote memorization for subjects with a lot of vocabulary, like medicine or languages.

further resources

studying without notes by @fuckstudy .

prioritizing that crazy to do list (the abcde method) by @eintsein

a comphrensive guide to anki (flashcards online) by @studyingstudent

a stash of tiny study tips by @acalmstudiousfirecracker

and much much more on my #studyref tag.

b. extracurriculars

These I think matter (though I’m biased) more than grades, because they’re what shape you and your experience. Most of the students at my university had grades like mine, but it’s the places I frequented and the people to whom I devoted my time that formed my sense of self. I have so many skills, anecdotes, and ideas that I’ve gained from my extracurricular work.

If you have any you’ve stuck with since early in high school and you still like, keep ‘em. Quality over quantity. Show jobs or universities you can be dedicated and disciplined, and have stamina to see projects to the end. (I was in 7 and held leadership positions in 4 and it was probably part of the reason why I spent all of senior year on three hours sleep… besides my IB classes of course.)

If you’re not pursuing college immediately or at all (or even if you are), participate in ones that pull you out of your comfort zone and teach you something new.

ii. 𝓼𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮

Treat this category as you would anything else in your schedule–requiring time and being a significant priority. Not always at the very top, but still demanding its own attention.

See friends outside of school, for however long or short a period, at least once every week to two weeks. This can include extracurricular time if you’re pressed.

Schedule time with your family (especially if their lives are also cluttered and hectic) do something dynamic, and also something separate that’s relaxing. One week your family time might be reading in the same room and having gentle conversation or a family dinner; the next might be going out to the movies or taking a hike together. It can be easy to feel taken for granted or to take family for granted.

By the way, this includes “chosen” family if you’re not on great terms with some/all of them. I have experience with this too.

Get. Out. Of. The. House. This plays into “personal health” too! You need a change in rhythm/routine and exposure to the outside. Especially in your winter season.

I’m one of those people who has to have things scheduled way in advance, so family/curfew/etc permitting, do something a little bit spontaneous, say with only a few hours or a couple days notice. It will make you feel more alive if you’re in a stressful slump.

Communication is really important, especially if you’re stressed. Don’t be afraid to tell people “I am sensitive/hyperreactive to X because Y is putting me on edge right now” or “this triggers X insecurity because I’m anxious about Y.” This goes doubly if you’re struggling with mental illness. Talk to someone you trust. (See “personal health.”)

Don’t give in to peer pressure if you’re spent the time you need with friends and have to excuse yourself for other responsibilities. Balance!

No is equally as important to respected as Yes, no matter what the case.

Respect boundaries but invite people to challenge their comfort zone at their space.

Don’t be broken up if a romantic relationship doesn’t last. It’s senior year. Everything’s changing. Let it.

Also, please don’t be like me and let your summer/your school year be eaten up with relationship drama. I thankfully ended a difficult relationship early (late September) so it wasn’t a huge issue, but I watched people close to me struggle with while also battling the stress of the year.

iii. 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓽𝓱

mentally

If you’re struggling with mental illness, be aware of your own limits and pace yourself.

Sometimes we feel dull because we need to break routine/stimulate ourselves in a new way. You should have a structure/routine, but it should be flexible enough for you to adapt to changes and listen to what your mind and body are telling you.

The path to self-love must first begin with self-acceptance. If you struggle with self-image or self-esteem issues, you can’t build positivity off a foundation of negativity. You must first level it to neutrality.

Perform check-ups with yourself. This may be in the form of meditation, a diary, therapy, etc. None of these things are a “last resort” but rather a healthy part of building good mental habits.

physically

Exercise! You don’t have to be a star athlete to bring about the benefits. Even a 15 minute jog, 30 minute walk/hike, or 10 minutes of stretching can give you benefits.

On that note! Take! Frequent! Breaks! And please, please google stretches for certain body parts like hands if you do repetitive motion like drawing or writing for a long period of time! You don’t want to push yourself!

Listen to your body and don’t ignore pain, hunger, nausea, fatigue, etc. Respond patiently and with what’s appropriate.

Don’t forget about diet. It’s easy when you’re busy to reach for the quick and nutritionally poor snacks/meals, but it’s really important to set aside time to cook/meal plan or even just throw together a quick snack tray of fruits/crackers/cheeses/etc. It doesn’t have to be instragrammable but you should have a balanced diet that factors in your specific needs, if you have any restrictions, etc.

Change yo pillow case frequently kids, it does wonders for acne.

I cannot stress enough! To! Stay! Hydrated! My goal is eventually eight glasses a day but my minimum is 4-5. I try to have one every meal, especially in college.

Bedtime is important! But more than that, wake up time is important. If you’re trying to adjust your schedule and can only keep one consistent, choose the time you wake up. Eventually your body will naturally become fatigued for the bedtime to match it. It’s how I turned my sleep schedule from 12:00 AM to 8:00 into 9:30 PM to 5:30 AM over the course of one winter break!

If you’re a morning person, you’re a morning person. If you’re a night owl, you’re a night owl. There’s research now to prove that forcing yourself into a rhythm too extreme for your tendencies can make you feel awful either way.

At the end of the day, you’ve got one goal and one goal only: to look back on this year and be proud of what you’ve achieved and how you’ve grown. You shape your future and choose what matters most in your life!

If there’s anything else you think I’ve missed or you’d like me to cover more in depth/link more posts to, please ask me! I’d be happy to clarify/continue this series! I want to make sure you’re completely satisfied.

#sleepover #annabethofcolor #rivkah answers #my advice #masterpost #high school #high school seniors #studyref

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