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the-writer-nerd-ro · 3 years

Text

Part 1 of my HDL birthday fic. The other part will be out in the next few days

Birthday Plans

D: Any fun plans for today?

It was seven in the morning and Dewey was sitting in the cockpit of the Sunchaser on his birthday. Della was bringing coffee but Dewey was still a little tired. There was a different kind of tiredness that had settled in his bones as he thought about spending his birthday away from his brothers. He didn’t expect either of them to be awake but he thought he would shoot them a text before he started flying.

H: I wish. I have a bunch of tests tomorrow so I have to study all day today. But tomorrow after my tests, my friends and I are going out for belated birthday drinks.

D: Tell the bartender it’s your birthday and get free belated birthday drinks

H: I’m not going to lie, it’s against the JWG

D: You’re 24. You’re not a Junior Woodchuck anymore.

H: You’re right.

H: I’m a Senior Woodchuck.

L: Do you guys ever sleep???

D: It’s 7 AM

L: Yeah, it’s 7 AM, you should be asleep

D: What are your plans today, Lou?

L: Boyd is visiting after I get off work and we’re going to spend the rest of the day together

H: Aww, adorable.

D: Sappy

L: Anyway, what are you doing today, Dewdrop?

D: Doing a flight with mom and then cake with some of the fam later

H: Have fun, eat a slice of cake for me.

D: Will do

L: Your present should be in the mail. Yours too, Hue.

D: You didn’t have to get me anything

L: Yeah, but I feel bad that we can’t be together today. It feels weird.

D: It does feel weird

H: I miss you guys

Dewey set down his phone, blinking back tears. He hadn’t wanted to get emotional this morning but he was having a hard time holding it together if Huey was throwing around, “I miss you,” and Louie was commenting on how weird things were.

To avoid addressing his emotions Dewey found a gif of a dancing baby that said happy birthday. That was enough to start a gif chain that moved them away from heavy emotions.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Della asked, offering her son a cup of coffee, and taking in his bummed-out expression.

“Yeah, just texting Huey and Louie.”

Della nodded somberly, “It’s hard being apart from them, isn’t it?”

Dewey was trying his hardest not to get choked up.

“I shouldn’t be so dramatic. They’re just a few hours away, and we’re meeting up in a couple of weeks after Huey’s done with finals.”

“But today’s your birthday. It’s okay if you miss them extra hard today. Your feelings are valid.”

“It’s our first birthday apart,” Dewey whispered.

“I know how hard that can be,” Dell said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Mom? Does it get easier?”

“A little. But the time apart makes the time together so much better. And you get to do one barrel roll in the Sunchaser on your birthday.”

“I should get to do 24 barrel rolls because it’s my 24th birthday.”

“Don’t push it, buddy.”

Huey had a coffee and an English muffin (toasted, lightly buttered) and was one flashcard away from a breakdown. He was exhausted, which was not the way you wanted to spend your 24th Birthday.

Everything was always happening all at once. Huey probably wouldn’t have remembered it was his birthday until Dewey had texted him earlier. He’d fussed about lying to an imaginary bartender but had had no qualms lying to his brothers. There were no friends taking him out for belated birthday drinks. No one here knew him intimately enough to know his birthday.

Texts would roll in all day from the family and friends who he desperately missed, wishing him a pleasant day and asking him about his fabricated plans. He was almost in tears every time he furthered this delusion that he had people here, that he was not just a loser alone on his birthday. How pathetic would that be? When Dewey was with their family and Louie was with his boyfriend. Huey’s chest ached about the fact he was the only one alone.

Fenton was the only one who called him out on his lie.

F: What’re you doing for your birthday, Huey?

H: I have to study today but I’m getting drinks with some friends tomorrow.

F: Oh, nice.

F: So you finally made some friends over there?

Huey wished that he hadn’t ranted to his mentor about how incredibly difficult it was to find time to make friends.

H: ...No

F: So who are you drinking with?

H: Nobody

F: Drinking alone, then? Maybe call a car to get home.

H: I’m not drinking alone

F: So you just lied to me?

H: Not just you?

Fenton stopped responding for a few minutes and Huey felt devastated. He hadn’t wanted to lie to his loved ones but he hadn’t wanted them to pity him either. And now he had to deal with guilt on top of all the exhaustion.

F: So you’re all alone on your birthday?

H: I guess I am

F: I see why you wouldn’t want to talk about that

F: But you didn’t need to lie

H: It’s too late now, I already told everyone that I’d be drinking with friends tomorrow.

F: Well, I don’t have any plans tomorrow. Team Science reunion?

H: Team Science reunion

Huey felt a bit better about his birthday, grateful that Fenton had reached out. He still missed his brothers though. He decided to text them both one more time today before he went back to studying, though he decided to text them separately this time.

H: Have a safe flight, Dewey.

D: Thanks, bro. Good luck studying

H: Thanks

He decided to text Louie later since he’d been tired and he wasn’t fun to talk to when he was tired. And then, swamped with studying, he promptly forgot until dinner.

H: Hey! I hope you had a good day at work and that you and Boyd have fun today. A responsible amount of fun.

L: Lol I’ll tell Boyd that the arson is canceled

H: No arson, but you could still probably make S’mores. Boyd’s really good at that.

L: I get it, you’re both Senior Woodchucks. Hey, do something nice for yourself today, okay? Don’t just study yourself to death.

H: ...Okay. Thanks, Lou

“Who’re you texting?” Boyd asked, already making himself comfortable on Louie’s couch.

“Huey. He told us to have fun. And to not commit arson.”

“I wasn’t gonna commit arson on purpose, were you going to commit arson?”

“Well, it’s my birthday, and you did bring cupcakes and candles.”

“Mm, those are more fun if you blow them out instead of letting them burn. How’s Huey doing anyway? Fenton just texted me about him.”

“I’m afraid he’s overworking himself,” Louie admitted, “But that’s just Huey’s nature. I'm not especially surprised.”

"That's the vibe I got too. Fenton asked me if I wanted to go get drinks with him and Huey tomorrow so that he doesn't have to be alone."

“Whoa,” Louie said, eyes widening.

“What?”

“Huey must’ve lied about having plans with his school friends tomorrow.”

“Aw. Well, you would’ve done the same thing. Huey probably just didn’t want you guys to worry. A classic Louie move.”

Louie frowned deeply.

"Hey, babe, do you ever get the sense you're doing the wrong thing?"

"Elaborate?"

"Well, I took this internship, to you know, pull myself up by my bootstraps. Be my own person."

"I'm really proud of you for that."

"Yeah, well… Being my own person sucks. I've always been one in a set of three. And it feels like recently someone ripped the "Do not separate" sticker off and I hate it."

"Hm… Do you want to come and get drinks with me tomorrow?"

"Getting wasted won't help. I've tried and alcohol doesn't fill that hole."

"I know, I've carried you home before. But I mean do you want to go get drinks with me and your brother? We could surprise Huey."

"Hey… That's not such a bad idea. I need to make a call."

“I’ll light your cupcakes on fire,” Boyd said cheerfully.

“No fair, starting the arson without me,” Louie laughed, as he pulled up the texts from the morning and tapping on Dewey’s number.

“Oh, hey! Hey, Louie, hold on, guys Louie’s on the phone, we gotta sing again!”

Louie laughed, cringing a little in anticipation of the awkwardness as his family began a staticky and muffled rendition of Happy Birthday.

“Thanks, guys, means a lot to me. Dewey, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Sure, sure, let me just step outside,” A moment later Dewey’s voice came back, “What’s up?”

“Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Uh, not sure, why?”

“Well, it seems like Hubert lied about his birthday plans. Apparently, there were never any friends he was gonna go drinking with, so Fenton decided to drop by and he wanted to bring Boyd and Boyd thought it was a good idea if I tagged along. So what if we surprise Huey? He’s been working really hard at med school- hell, we’ve all been working really hard. What do you say?”

Dewey was silent for a minute and then Louie heard a laugh (Or was it a sob?) on the other end.

“Man, I’ve missed you guys so much. I’d love to do that. Let’s set something up, mm-kay?”

“Yeah. Boyd! Text Fenton and tell him that me and Dewey are gonna come surprise Huey, we’ll figure it out from there.”

“Okee dokee,” Boyd said cheerfully, putting an alarming amount of candles (probably 24) in one cupcake.

“I have to go, Dewey, I’m afraid that Boyd is about to set my apartment on fire without me, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow! Enjoy your fire hazard and your boyfriend.”

“Those are the same thing, Dewey.”

“Then enjoy your fire boyfriend. Boyfire? I dunno.”

“He is pretty fire, isn’t he? Bye, Dewey.”

“Bye!”

“Boyd if you light that you’ll coat that cupcake in so much wax it’ll be disgusting and that’s just a waste of a good cupcake.”

“Then I’ll eat that one. I’m an android I’m not as picky about what is and isn’t cupcake.”

“Sometimes, fortunately not often but sometimes, you remind me so much of Dewey that it’s terrifying.”

“Do you still love me?” Boyd asked, squinting a little and laser lighting the candles. As Louie had assumed it quickly became a soupy, fiery mess.

“More than words can express,” Louie said, capturing Boyd’s lips in a kiss after extinguishing the cupcake.

“Did you make a wish, baby?” Boyd asked, holding Louie close by the hips.

“I don’t need to, everything is going to be okay. In fact, I think that everything is going to be… Perfect.”

“Happy Birthday…”

#ducktales 2017 #ducktales fanfic #aged up hdlw #hdl #happy birthday hdl #huey dewey and louie #louyd #huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #della duck #fenton crackshell cabrera #boyd gearloose

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karasuno-writings · 4 years

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Yo. I'm new to your blog, so I'll try my best to be appreciative and polite to you. Doing this gotta be hard. So, I ain't gonna act like you inhuman. This is your work, and its darn good. You got support for that. Anyway, I hope this ain't a weird request. Decline if your wanna, no hard feelings. How about headcanons with Tsukishima, Hinata, Iwaizumi, Kuroo, and Kenma. Them having a sleepover with their s/o, and they put their head in their lap, and sing to them? Is that confusing, or too many?

Ah thank you so so much for your kind words, I’m really thankful of how thoughtful you are! It is a perfect request and a very wholesome one honestly!! Yes I loved this and don’t worry it was just right! Thank you so so much again!

And thank you all who helped yesterday, I am sorry if it was bothersome for me to make my breakdown public but honestly?? It was all of you who made me feel better. Special thanks to @normiewrites @bakupecs @leiawriteshaikyuu @oyaoyaoyoya @wolfishwriting and @a-q-rp (If you guys don’t want to be tagged just tell ma and sorry about that!) but if you wrote to me I really appreciate it, thank you all so much.

Tsukishima

You went to his house due to a storm that hit Miyagi late at night after a date the two of you had. Considering you were close to his home that is where the two of you rushed towards. At arrival you were soaking, and he definitely could not let you go home while it was dark and pouring, so he suggested for you to stay the night.

Of course you agreed, so he handed you some pajamas and let you take a hot shower, how horribly irresponsible of him would it be to leave you freeze and catch a cold after all.

Depending on your size you either wore the full set or you found the pants to be too big but just the shirt perfect. Either way they were Dinosaur print pajamas, and he was blushing when you came out of the bathroom.

He was wearing pajamas with a shark on the shirt, and looked way too cute for the frown that he has as a cover up for his slightly pink cheeks.

His gaze softens quick enough though, the two of you have been dating for a long time and he trusts you, he didn’t feel vulnerable as he thought he would, that was the biggest relief.

It was early enough so the two of you sat down to watch a movie, his pick was interstellar, and you didn’t complain so it was set.

15 minutes into the movie he pressed his lips on top of your head silently, your hair still wet from the shower, he could smell his shampoo which he immediately thought suited you, it felt so personal.

That’s what made him shift so your head rest on his lap. You were clearly confused by his actions but complied to rest your head on his legs, pleased at the affection that he was only prone to show in private.

Your wet hair was fresh to the touch and soft in his hands, so he absentmindedly ran his fingers through it, dividing stands and twisting strands, all while immersed in the movie.

Halfway through while being fully immersed, half conscious of what he was doing he started humming softly

You did not say anything as you knew better, but it however felt so heartfelt? It was truly a precious moment between the two of you.

Ever since that moment it is an unspoken habit between the two of you

He does it often, however it’s only late at night and while the two of you are enjoying quality time silently.

Hinata

He invited you over to his house for no real reason, he just wanted to spend more time with you and he thought it would be a nice “date”. So once you were at his house the first thing the two of you did was make a pillow fort

It was pretty big as you sat inside with your laptop playing some background music as you were just chatting it up. However he wanted to be closer to you so he just shuffled over.

Once next to you he grabbed your head and placed it on his lap, probably a little on the harsher side because of his excitement. “Let me play with your hair Y/N it just smells so good!”

As you nodded and chuckled he began untangling it and running his fingers through it. He either plays with it making small braids that he learned to do thanks to Natsu if it is long enough, or just gush about how nice it feels if it is short.

He is talking to you about all his aspirations and you know volleyball until a song comes into his head, and he just kinda starts drifting away and starts singing it to you

He is smiling the whole time as he sings, brushing his fingers over your hair and taking loose strands off your face while looking into your eyes.

He smiles when he is done singing and he just silently plays with your hair for a few moments, he is very talkative but the moments of shared silence are so genuine and he is just admiring you

He started lowkey crying because he loves you so much, when you notice and ask he just hugs you and tells you that he just can’t believe he has you???

He is such an angel, this started happening frequently ever since, like whenever you are on a date in a more chill plan like staying at home he is very much singing to you while stroking your hair

Please do it for him too, if you sing to him he will sing along with you and honestly karaoke duets happen very often between the two of you

Iwaizumi

The first time you stayed over was because he had just lost a pretty important match and you wanted to support him. He really appreciate the offer and the fact that it was your idea was so much better, he just wanted to take his head out of the game.

When he saw you wearing pajamas he had this adorable blush on because honestly you looked great. He usually sleeps in boxers but he is a gentleman so he had some comfortable shorts on.

You both were chilling on his couch, this was after all a plan the came up out of the blue, so you were eating snacks while watching your favorite series. His arm was draped around you in a really lazy way, and his rough fingertips brushing your arm tenderly.

As you watched the last chapter together he felt you getting heavier against his chest and he looked at you, confirming that you were indeed asleep.

He started at you for a few moments, you looked so soft with you eyes closed, he didn’t want to disturb you so he panicked for at least five seconds.

After that he relaxed and very carefully help you lie down on the couch, resting your head on his lap.

He pressed a kiss to you forehead and changed the finale so you would not miss it, and put on an animated film because he is a sucker for them.

He loved your hair so he began playing with it, knowing it would help you relax, he almost does it as a scalp massage, he is so good as helping you relieve stress. He was tender but rough, pretty much like he is with most things.

You woke up slightly to hear him singing, he was not singing along to anything particularly, he just felt so at calm with you sleeping on his lap.

You did not stir until he finished singing, that is when he noticed you were awake once more. The blood rushed straight up to his cheeks after that, he was very embarrassed.

That is until you pressed a soft kiss on his lips as you shuffled to look at him. His hands found their way to you back and he was smiling onto your lips. He just loves you so much.

He does it often, but the singing is a rare occurrence

Kenma

Neither of you planned the sleepover, however when the two of you decided to take a break from playing you discovered that it was incredibly late, so he asked you to stay the night.

He had this small smile as he said it, he liked the idea of getting to spend more time with you, specially if it meant he got to cuddle you

He lent you some pajamas or comfy clothes of his, he liked when you wore his clothing, it was a small gesture of what you meant to him. He is a firm believer that to date you just need a really deep friendship so he likes those small details that give off they you are indeed dating.

The two of you had been playing games but now he just wanted to watch you play, so the two of you sat on the floor, his legs wrapped around you as he rest his chin on your shoulder, his arms loosely wrapped around you as he held his gaze on the game.

It was late at night, the two of you had watched a movie and played some board games, he is unsurprisingly good at them, and now you were laying on his bed, head on his lap.

The two of you were quiet as his hands found his way onto your hair, he then started playing with it, soft fingers meticulously dividing strands and tenderly running up and down your hair.

He then started humming, a soft and almost ethereal tune, as his eyes become droopy and his hands touched your hair carefully.

He has a beautiful singing voice, he however will not sing often, just in these precious moments.

Like that the both of you drifted asleep, only shifting almost in the morning, as you snuggled up to him.

Kuroo

It started as a study date, the two of you knew exams were approaching so it always helped to study together, however when you suggested staying over this boy was ecstatic.

When you arrived the two of you did study, long enough to get worn out. The second he saw you stress he decided to call it quits. He had prepared everything for this moment, from the movie the two of you would watch to the games you were to play.

When the two of you went to put on you pajamas he just smirked and mocked you, you just looked adorable and he honestly didn’t know how else to cope.

This dork lay blankets on the floor and pillows surrounding it, for the two of you to be comfortable so he literally lift you up and lay you down on the little place he had set up. He was about to put the movie but he got really caught up with talking to you and joking around to make you relax.

Then the two of you decided to actually watch the movie, some disney movie you had always loved, and before you could make yourself comfortable he was behind you, softly laying your head on his legs.

His hands quickly found their way to your hair he loved to play with it as a side distraction from the movie, and knowing it was something you liked made it all better.

He sang along to every single song in the movie and honestly he played with you hair almost the entirety of it, you ended up very relaxed and his he now smelled like you, he was really happy about it.

If you sing with him he will be beyond happy, making voices for different characters and all.

However after it ended the two of you remained there, and as he saw you he smirked and sang you a song very dear to him, it was soft and honestly he just appreciated that he could spend this moments with you.

You closed your eyes because it felt really good and just before you opened them he kissed you softly, smiling lightly. He was happy he took you by surprise.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #Kei Tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurō #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #Hinata Shōyō

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neon-junkie · 3 years

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Lovesick - Chpt.1&2

Summary: The last thing Micah Bell ever expected to happen in his storm of a life is for him to get soft on a woman, but that's exactly what's happened. And now, Micah has to figure out if he wants to keep suppressing those feelings or finally act on them.

Pairing: Micah Bell x f!Reader

Word Count: 4414

Rating: SFW

Tags: Pining, Secret admirer, Feelings denial/realisation, Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Mental breakdowns, Crying, Slow burn, Friends to lovers, Falling in love, Mostly Micahs POV.

Notes: I really really really really really enjoy the idea of Micah getting super-duper soft on someone and struggling with those mushy feelings, so why not write a multi-chapter fic about it?? This was heavily inspired by the song 'Whiskey - Tejon Street Corner Thieves'. I can totally picture Micah being the kinda guy to suppress his mushy feeling with alcohol. I was gonna make this a short fic where a very drunk Micah confronts the reader like "ahh I'm drunk and i hate you because you make me feel like this," and then I got carried away because I'm a sucker for super slow burn >:)

He hates you. He despises you. Even just the thought of you makes him sick to his stomach, sick to the point where he can barely stand up straight. And whenever he sees you? Whenever you come over to him with that soft smile on your face and talk to him as if he's a normal human being? God. That makes him so much worse. He hates the way you make him feel, the way no woman should make him feel. He'll happily point and laugh at any man that allows a woman to tell him what to do, to make a man soft and worship the ground she walks on. But Micah's found himself in the last predicament that he thought he'd ever end up in; he was expecting to finally have a noose stay around his neck and steal him from this world, but instead, he finds himself here. Micah looks up from his knife, sharpening it over and over whilst he leans against a tree on the outskirts of camp. It's gentle out here, calming, with a pretty view of the red sand that welcomes the lake as the waves rock back and forth. But no picturesque setting can at least settle the flames that burn inside of him. Micah's always been a loose cannon, a devil walking amongst the earth. He never really questions his actions, he just does them, especially when the bastards on the other end of his gun deserve it. But that fire inside of him is slowly turning into a sickness, a dizzy and sweaty sickness that makes him question his actions simply because he worries about what you'd think.

He was so disappointed in himself the first time it happened. He'd trailed across to Valentine saloon with yourself and a few other camp members, only because you'd invited him. The other men didn't pay much attention to him, but you did. You stuck beside him all night, practically pouring liquor down his throat as he tried to calm that feeling he gets whenever he's within ten meters of you. A stranger had tried to grab you on your way back over to the table, and Micah was straight to his feet, storming over and landing a punch perfectly on that poor fuckers nose. At first, you were glad that Micah had your back. But the more punches Micah landed, the more that stranger's face turned blue. You only had to bark Micah's name once to catch his attention; his head perked up, the stranger's blood splattered across his face, but his wild eyes had calmed the second he locked onto you. He dropped that man to the floor and left him to the elements, following you out the Saloon and apologizing over and over for getting so carried away. "He shouldn't have touched you," Micah had told you. "I know, and I appreciate you sticking up for me, but you got so carried away. He's probably gonna die from those injuries. You've gotta stop being so bloodthirsty," you told him as he helped you up onto your mount, climbing on top of Baylock shortly after. "Bloodthirsty?" Micah questioned. The word echoed throughout his brain, settling in his stomach as his nerves were turned to a different kind of mush. He felt cold and isolated, like he had disappointed you and ruined any chance of you ever falling for him, not that there probably was a chance to begin with. "Yeah, bloodthirsty," you repeated, nodding at the same time. He apologized to you again and told you he'd sort himself out, that he'd stop acting on impulse and anger. You tried to laugh it off with him; "Of course you will, and I'll grow wings and fly." Micah laughed along with you but the fact that you doubted him so much kept him awake for days, not that he sleeps much anyway. How dare you. How dare you have such power over him, despite not even being his, or being aware of it. Sure, you're kind and polite to him, but you have no ties to him. You've barely flirted with him, and surprisingly, he hasn't tried flirting with you either. Whenever you're around he can't put on that cheesy act, he can't throw a few pick up lines your way and hope for the best. Micah finds himself actually wanting to impress you, to show you his best side in hopes of winning you over. It's sickening. Micah scowls and sharpens his blade a little harsher. He's not frustrated at you, not one bit, but he definitely is frustrated at himself. He can't believe he's fallen for a woman; he's not just fallen, he's tripped over and fell face-first into a ten feet deep grave, and he wouldn't be surprised if you decided to leave him down there, or bury him alive. Amos once used a specific word when he first started feeling like this when he met his wife - lovesick. Micah hates that word, he despises it, but only because he can feel it right now. It fits so perfectly, so snug. To be in love with someone so much that they physically make you sick. It's amazing how one person can do that to another and not even be aware of it. Micah's surprisingly acted like his usual self when he's around you, though the odd stutter has slipped out, along with his hands that are now almost always clammy. He hopes you haven't noticed it, especially when he put a wad of cash in your hands after a robbery you'd assisted him with. He has slipped up once though, and he knows he slipped up because you approached him the next day to check if he was alright, to which he excused himself again and ran off. It was hard not to notice the mess Micahs knuckles were in the day after that saloon fight; they were swollen, an array of purple and red blotches, some parts of his skin had even torn. "That looks nasty," you said as you caught Micah's attention. He brushed it off, saying it was nothing, but you continued to push at it. "I've got something that might help, let me go fetch it," you said. Before Micah could protest, you'd already ran off. He took a seat at the campfire with you and on command, held his hand out. Micah watched you as you dabbed the ointment onto a cloth and then oh god, you're holding his hand. Oh fuck. Oh shit. Your fingertips are pressed against his palm, your skin against his, as your other hand holds the damp cloth onto his knuckles. Was this it? Was this the day that Micah was going to embarrass himself in front of you? Was he going to throw up? Maybe pass out? You're being so kind and gentle, helping heal his wounds, something that nobody has ever done before. "She's just a friend, she's just being kind to you," Micah tells himself over and over, trying to remind himself that you'd never fall for a devil like him. "How longs this gonna take?" Micah asks, trying to mentally prepare himself for however long he's going to feel sick for. "Oh? You got places to be, Micah?" you ask with a laugh, eyes briefly meeting his before focusing on his hand again. "I'm a busy man, sweetheart. Someones gotta bring in the money," he tells you. Oops. The pet name didn't mean to slip out, but you don't cast a scowl or begin to hurdle abuse at him, you seem to barely notice it. "Of course you are, Micah. The busiest man in the camp, always sharpening his knife or cleaning his guns," you say with a laugh. "I mean it. I've got a robbery that needs attending to," Micah lies, though you seem to be falling for it. "Fine, fine," you sigh, moving your hands off Micahs. You look up at Micah, expecting him to thank you and leave, but he sits there blankly. "Well? Ain't you gotta go rob some folk?" you ask. "Yeah, sure. I'll see you around, thanks again," Micah quickly mutters before jumping to his feet and running off. He managed to rob a few folk on his ride around the area, the ride that was meant to settle his nerves and clear his mind. It worked, and Micah felt like his normal self once he began robbing folk, but all his progress crashed and burned when he trailed back into camp that night and accidentally locked eyes with you. What a fool this man is. The sound of your laughter catches Micahs attention. He's been stood leaning against this tree for god knows how long, thinking about you, not that his mind isn't always occupied with thoughts of you. But that's a different kind of laugh you're letting out, one that Micah's only heard when it surprisingly been directed at him. He peers over his shoulder and gazes into camp to find you talking to Arthur. He's babbling away about whatever, talking to a few of the girls though you're sat amongst them. They're all laughing along with him, and Micah isn't sure if you're laughing louder than the others, or if he's just more focused on you. But either way, it hurts. Micah hates feeling jealous, just as much as he hates feeling lovesick. But Arthur? Why does Arthur have to be the one to make you laugh like that? Why can't he just fuck off and leave at least one of the women available? He's a big, dumb idiot, but he knows how to make the women swoon, especially all the camp ones. Micah holsters his knife and throws the whetstone to the floor in anger. As the stone hits the ground, he instantly regrets his outburst, knowing that if you saw that, you'd be disappointed in him for acting out in anger. He checks over his shoulder but you've thankfully not noticed, still fixated on that big dummy. Micah rubs his face, trying to brush away that feeling inside of him but it's no use. He hears your laughter again and begins walking away. He needs to get away from that situation. He doesn't want to hear nor see other men flirting with you, not only because he gets jealous, but because it reminds him that you'd never go for a man like him. Maybe Micah should avoid you for a while? Maybe he should give himself some space in hopes of killing off all those feelings he has for you? ------- Micah's not been seen around camp for a week now. He left in the night without telling anybody where he's going, not even Dutch. He's occupied his time well, doing all his favourite things and visiting two close friends of his. His thoughts of you become less and less, and eventually, he feels settled enough to return to camp, ready to suppress those feelings and push you away. He returns during the evening, trotting back into Clemens Point to overhear Pearson shouting that dinner was ready. Baylock is hitched and his saddle is removed, swung over the hitching post so his mount can relax. Micah spends the evening lounging about, speaking to a few camp members, half-eating his food, the usual stuff, but there's been no sign of you. Good. He doesn't need to see you right now. The night is spent drinking with Bill before he goes off on guard duty, leaving Micah to have another glass of whiskey on his own. Nature eventually calls, and Micah forces himself to his feet so he can wander off into the forest and empty his bladder. He hums to himself as he does so, his feet stumbling ever so slightly but he only considers himself tipsy. If a stranger were to waltz into camp with their guns blazing, Micah knows he's somewhat sober enough to take them on, and that's the only reason why he doesn't consider himself to be drunk. He takes his time wandering back into camp but a noise in the distance perks his ears up. Micah stands still, his feet coming to the halt so he can focus on the sound rather than the crunching earth beneath his feet. It's a whimper, as if a baby deer has been left by itself nearby, no momma to be found. Micah follows the sound, curious to know what's crying out nearby. He'd normally ignore it, but his gut is telling him to follow, even though he told himself that he'd stop listening to his gut so much as it always got him caught up in some kind of trouble, usually feelings related. Micah wanders well into the outskirts of camp, trailing down along the shoreline and coming to a halt when he finds the source of the sound. It's you, your knees up to your chin with your arms wrapped around them. You're sobbing into your lap, your knees muffling most of your cries though some had seemed to slip out. Micah finds himself in a predicament and curses whoever is in the sky for pulling him into this one. Should he sneak away and let the guilt of knowing he left you alone to cry settle on his shoulders for however long it chooses to stay? Or should he go over and comfort you, knowing that sickness inside of him will spark up again? Although, it's already begun to return. He sighs as he rests his hands on his hips. There's no getting rid of these feelings, is there? This isn't a somewhat simple matter where he can pull his revolvers out and shoot at the thing that's eating him up. This is something new, something that he can't just run away from, though this isn't the first time he's run away from his feelings. Micah knows that if the situations were reversed, that you'd come running over to let him cry into your arms. And as much as he wants to, he doesn't want those feeling to begin controlling him again. Before Micah can make a decision, his feet are already pacing over to you. It seems he was set on his decision the second he saw you like this, and he was only stalling to try and prepare himself for those feelings to return. Micah clears his throat, catching your attention. "You alright?" he asks with that drawl, though he knows what your answer is. A pair of glossy eyes look up to meet his, and Micah feels his heart beginning to melt at the sight. "Sweetheart," Micah sighs without realising, settling down beside you. "I'm fine, Micah. Really," you tell him as you wipe your eyes, letting your legs settle and no longer be bunched up against your chest. "Now, I know that ain't true," he shakes his head. "What's a matter?" he asks. You give your eyes another rub as you clear your throat. "Y-you ever think you're alone in this world? Like, I know I ain't technically alone, but I sure do feel it," you tell him without hesitation, knowing that Micah is the kind of person who can relate. The other camp members would begin to tell you how many people are here for you, trying to reassure you, and although that's a kind gesture, it's not the one you're looking for. Micah, on the other hand, knows what true loneliness is like - to have nobody but yourself, and to be like that for years on end. Maybe you were two sides of the same coin. His ears perk up at your words, surprised that you felt such a way. It tugs on his heartstrings, an organ that everybody doubts Micah has, but you're the only person who seems to remind him that he does have a heart after all. "I know what that feels like," Micah says with a laugh. "I'm surprised you feel like that, 'specially with being the camp's favourite," he continues, his eyes flicking out at the water before returning back to you. "I wouldn't call myself that, I'm no Arthur. I know I fit in just fine, but there's only so much a group of friends can do, you know?" "Oh, I don't exactly know how that feels, sweetheart. But I understand what you're feeling. You're lonely-lonely, ain'tcha?" Micah asks, and doesn't seem surprised when you nod in agreement. "Mhmm," he hums, "I know how that feels." "Ain't you ever had someone be sweet on you before, Micah?" you ask him. Micah can't help but laugh a little at your question, assuring himself that you know what his answers going to be. "Course not," he replies somewhat confidently, though he doesn't seem proud with his reply. "I'm surprised," you tell him. Micahs eyes flick over to you like a spooked owl, uncertain if he heard exactly what he thought you said. "You're what?" Micah questions, his face relaxing as he tries not to look a wide range of negative emotions, ones that he'd rather not show. "I'm surprised. I know the camp doesn't exactly like you, but you've always been so kind to me. You've helped me out on more than one occasion without me asking for it, you'll carry my ass during a gunfight, and you always seem to give to me but never take. Hell, you're here comforting me now when I'm certain some folk would have pretended not to notice me," you tell him. Micah has to dip his head a little as you speak, covering his eyes with the brim of his hat. You can tell that nobody has ever said such words to him, though he's doing a good job of suppressing that sickness inside of him, preventing it from coming up to the surface to show you just how soft he is on you. He's meant to be a rugged outlaw, a man that kills and robs for fun, when really he feels like a child at Christmas whenever he's near you. "Guess that's what friends are for, huh?" Micah replies, trying to keep his gaze hidden and his eyes forward. "Yeah," you nod, moving your eyes over to the scenery. You can't help that a lone tear escapes from the corner of your eyes, a leftover from earlier, but Micah looks at you from under the brim of his hat at just the right time to see it escape. You've done a good job at suppressing the loneliness inside of you for so long, but every now and again, your emotions get the better of you and you just need to let it all out. "Hey," Micah says as he sits upright, reaching out to wipe the lone tear from your cheek without thinking about it. "You still got some left inside of ya?" he questions, to which you nod in agreement. "You need a shoulder to cry on?" Micah asks, his stomach turning at the thought of you finding comfort in him. He's expecting you to brush it off, to say you're fine, but instead, you're nodding again and shuffling closer to him. At first, you simply lean against his shoulder, your cheek and temple pressed against his red shirt. You cling onto his arm like a nervous child, letting your tears flow once again. Micah's trying his best not to feel sick; he's never had somebody find comfort in him before, even though you're only clinging onto his arm, but it's enough to soften his heart and cloud his mind. A choked sob escapes your lips and Micah finally snaps at the sound of you in pain. Without thinking, he scoops you up, pulling you onto his lap and holding you tightly against his chest. There's a brief pause from you and Micah's certain that he's finally done it - he's finally stuck his foot into a door that should be closed, but his mind eases out as your arms wrap around him and your head buries deeper into his chest. The feeling of your tears against his skin makes Micah hold his breath, eventually letting it out slowly as he rests his chin on the top of your head. He's not quite sure what to do with his hands; one rests on your waist, whilst the other begins to trail up and down your back, comforting you in an uncertain way as he's never done this before, but he seems to be a natural as you find peace in this storm of a man. Micah hears you let out another choked sob and he holds onto you a little tighter. "Let it all out," he coos in a voice so soft that it could send a lamb to sleep. He's taken aback, not knowing he had such softness inside of him. Micah has to hear that tone again, to remind himself that he has that ability to be so gentle. "I'm here for ya," he says, the words slipping out of his mouth. The faint sound of a "thank you," from your lips finally melts Micahs ice-cold heart. And to think, this time yesterday he was pacing around his camp, telling himself over and over that he wasn't going to let 'any damn woman' turn him into such a mess. Maybe he could make an exception? Well, he knows he can because he already has. You take your time, letting out all the tears you have left. It feels nice to have somebody comforting you, especially as it's someone you weren't expecting. Everybody needs to cry sometimes, and you're sure Micah knows that far too well. Within time, you feel yourself calming down. Your lungs and muscles begin to relax, your breaths becoming longer and deeper, and your eyes are no longer glossy. You continue to take comfort in the man wrapped around you, holding onto him a little tighter as you move your head from his loosely buttoned shirt, up to the curve of his neck. His beard brushes over your forehead, but his cheek eventually rests against it as his body relaxes. This is a feeling that Micah could definitely get used to - the feeling of you snuggled up to him, your body fitting perfectly against his like a two-piece puzzle, even though he's struggled to put the pieces together for so long. That sickly feeling in his stomach is slowly settling, moving up his body and burning in his chest, though he prefers the burning over the sickness. "How're you feelin'?" Micah asks you, giving your back another gentle rub. "I'm getting there," you tell him. "Got a headache now though," you say with a slight laugh. "Must be dehydrated, though it's good you let them tears out," he replies. "You want me to go fetch you a drink?" Micah offers. He'd rather sit here with you in his arms, but he'd put your needs over his wants any day. "You've done enough for me, lettin' me cry all over you and soak your shirt," you say with a laugh. "I should probably get to bed anyway," you sigh, not wanting to move though you assume Micah is sick of you crying all over him by now. You're definitely mistaken. "C'mon then. Let's get you to bed," he says, his voice still as soft as earlier. That softness is intoxicating, a gentleness that you've never seen before; it urges you to hold onto him and never let go, but you force yourself off him, shuffling away so Micah can slowly get up onto his feet. You give your eyes another rub and as you open them, Micahs hand is out waiting for you. He helps you up and almost seems reluctant to move his hand away, but he forces himself to, not wanting to cross any boundaries. He walks you back to camp. It's silent for once, surprisingly peaceful as nobody is up drinking, singing, telling stories around the campfire. Micah urges you to get to bed whilst he fetches you a drink and you do so, scooting into your enclosed tent. "Here," Micah says as he crouches down in the entrance and hands you a cup of water. You gulp it down before thanking him, filling your body with the water you'd lost during your breakdown. "Now get some sleep. You must be exhausted," Micah coos. He's about to stand up and leave you to it, but you call out his name. Micah turns his attention back to you, a pair of sad eyes in the darkness of your tent. All he wants is to crawl in and settle down beside you, sleeping peacefully for once, but only because he doesn't feel like he needs to keep his guard up around you. "Thank you," you tell him again, a lot clearer than your sobbed manners from earlier. "S'alright, darlin'," Micah replies with a small nod. He flashes you a smile before finally getting up and leaving, letting you enjoy a well-needed rest. Micah trails over to his usual spot by the campfire. That feeling of whiskey in his blood is long gone by now; the shock of seeing you in such a state must have sobered him up, and he doesn't feel the need to pick up another bottle and begin wrestling those emotions again. He's somewhat content, though he fears that this was just a chance encounter, that tomorrow you'll be back to being the camp's favourite member to flirt with, and he'll have to stand on the sidelines and watch but be too scared to take any action. However, Micah feels calm enough to get some rest, even if it is just letting his head dip and having a snooze on this uncomfortable chair. It's better than nothing, and he knows he'll be awake before anybody else, preventing them from seeing him in his most vulnerable state. If only you had asked him to stay. Micahs mind becomes clouded with the thought of curling up beside you. He'd rest however you want, cuddling or not; he'd even be happy if you turned away from him or just used his body for some extra warmth. Micah wants to tell himself off, to slap himself around the face for being so desperate for your affection, but he'll allow himself to dream about such things just for tonight. The thought of settling down beside you sends him to sleep, with his hands resting on his stomach and one ankle crossed over the other.

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ussgallifrey · 4 years

Text

Truth Hurts

✦ Summary: Why are men great till they gotta be great? Steve Rogers was great, until he decided to do a solo trip to return the time stones. ✦ Pairings: Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader ✦ Warnings: Endgame Steve bashing, little bit of angst, language ✦ Word Count: 1.3k ✦ Author’s Note: Written for @captain-kelli's 500 follower challenge with the prompt - "Truth Hurts" by Lizzo. Version 2.0 here

Bucky cautiously approaches the bench as the sun glitters off the lakeshore, a hesitancy to his posture and words. Hands stuffed into his coat pockets as he breathes out slowly, feeling the weight of the afternoon settling. You can feel the concern literally rolling off him.

"You okay?"

Okay?

Was that even a possibility in this moment?

That feeling must have disappeared sometime between thinking the love of your life was lost in the quantum realm and seeing the aged man with a wedding ring only moments later. Okay died there, buried in the wrinkles and graying hair of an apparent stranger.

Because whoever this man was, claiming to be Steven Rogers, he was heartless. Absolutely devastatingly heartless. As he smiled and handed the title over to Sam and barely spared you or Bucky a second glance. You watched the future that never was walk away from view.

There's a sharp cut in your throat as you force the tears down, turning to your companion with a smile, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm great."

Dating Captain America was a fantasy. An unbelievable how is this actually happening to me fantasy. Lost in the warmth of blue eyes and a shy smile, golden hair and a sarcastic wit that slid through the cracks of the statuesque all-American icon. He was too good to be true and he wanted you. That was the craziest part about it. He. Wanted. You.

Oblivious to the heated glances and the sudden presence of super-soldier whenever you entered a public place in the tower. He found a reason to brush past in the kitchen, to station himself near you in the gym, and so on.

It took one failing mission for it all to come blazing to a tumultuous head. Pressed against each other in the walk-in freezer of a swanky hotel to evade the wannabe supervillain's henchmen. Happening in slow motion and lightspeed all at once as lips connected with something similar to Thor's lightning.

From there, it was just the rolling thunder that led to the storm. The supposed shy and timid man from a different time had no control when it came to you. And he was damn near intoxicating - a personal drug fully at your disposal.

It was good. So damn good.

And then the Accords hit. And then he was on the run. And then Wakanda. And then waking up in a jungle with Bucky and Sam and having no idea what had transpired since the battle.

It was good.

Was.

And then he left without a real goodbye because he was supposed to be right back. But he didn't come back, not really.

Boys hadn't been a strong point in your history, so the fact that Mr. Golden Boy was hanging onto your every word, unfortunately, let your guard finally slip. The purposefully placed blocks that made up the wall around your heart were slowly and deliberately broken down over the years as your relationship blossomed.

And it came to bite you right in the ass, didn't it?

Stupid stupid girl should've known better. Who could compare with his original sweetheart and the man had a damn time machine at his disposal? Did you really think he'd stay with you?

It's been two weeks and you still can't wrap your head around it.

Bucky wordlessly passes his container of Lo Mein your way with a barely suppressed frown on his face.

Steve used to destroy the punching bags in the gym until he had the chance to take his aggression out on a literal God, a suit of armor, and his serum-enhanced best friend. The punching bag doesn't fly off the hook with each jab you deliver, but you still like to pretend it's his dumb puppy dog face anyway.

You're honestly the best, you know that?

The tape around your fingers strains and tears as you focus on the middle of the bag.

God, I love you.

Liar liar liar. Stupid stupid girl, falling for such a liar.

This is it for me, sweetheart. You're all I need.

Noble bastard with the heart of gold and winning smile and dumb dumb hair.

Collapsing on the mat, angry tears fall as you quickly unwrap your knuckles. Angry at yourself for the breakdown, angrier at him for… well… everything else.

Bucky cleans up the cuts and bruises, holds an ice pack down with a soft apology on his lips. You're not sure if it's for the ice or what his idiot best friend did to your heart. You don't ask.

You wake to the fading sensation of his arms around your waist, only to be faced with the reality of an empty bed.

A part of you still held out hope - disgusting hope - that he would return. That it was just a fluke of time travel. But the days passed and no one ever appeared outside your door to kiss away the aches and pains of a broken heart.

You ignore the unread messages on your phone, finding solace under the covers of a too-big bed.

It's only after a restless night, when you're faced with your reflection in the mirror, that a little bell goes off in your head.

I need a change.

Was it a universal desire to chop off all your hair after a broken heart? Or was it just a cliche that fell in line with crying at romcoms and eating actual tubs of ice cream?

Either way, you clean up and make an appointment with your salon.

It feels amazing.

Having someone else shampoo your head is at the top of the list for best touches ever - especially after becoming a touch-starved hermit for longer than you'd like to admit. And you felt like a big change, so you go for a totally out of the box color while you're at it.

One that the girlfriend of image-heavy Captain America would never have.

And then a pedicure. And manicure. And champagne and when was the last time you did even the smallest bit of self-care? That shit needs to change. Now.

It's more therapeutic than any session could ever hope to be.

You laugh when Bucky does a double-take in the kitchen. Having walked right past you, only to slowly back up and ogle your new hair.

"It looks good."

There's a hint of relief that floods your senses to know it doesn't look like a crazy mess.

"Suits you," he offers, seemingly transfixed on the new hues framing your face.

The triumph of taking down the Winter Soldier, even if he may have been going a little easy on you, is a blast of adrenaline. Bouncing up on the mat with an exuberant whoop! You feel invincible.

Bucky just chuckles as he sits up.

"Not bad, sweetheart."

There's a hint of a familiar phrase that has you doing a slow turn. He's already moving back over to his bag to swig some water. But it doesn't sting, doesn't pull a sour taste in your mouth at the thought of the other guy who used to call you all the pet names. Maybe it was just a slip of the hundred-year-old tongue.

You were never great at catching onto obvious flirtations anyway.

"Think you're up for another round?" a hint of nerves threading around your voice.

Bucky watches carefully for one long moment, setting his water bottle down and wiping his mouth with his arm.

"Sure, darlin'."

He stalks back to the mat, keeping a good distance between you as he watches you sizing him up.

"Think you can handle this, Barnes?"

You watch the lazy smirk tugging at his lips while feeling a burst of confidence radiating from your body. It felt good, like things were actually turning in your favor - the storm cloud was dissipating. Maybe it was finally time to focus on you.

Permanent Bucky Tag List: @livvy-barnes

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#captainkelli500fam #steve rogers x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #marvel fan fic #my fic

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thewhizzyhead · 3 years

Note

you very much Should Keep going (if you’d like) I’m reading your tags like 👀👀👀 I wanna know More!!!

dude believe me i only just thought up 90% 9f this while doing my math homework last night so yea this is very barebones and this is very very new have very little to offer but um imma try to explain a bit more fjdjdc SO ANYWAYS GRADE 11

Warning: this is very long and I am very sorry aaAAAA also i only just thought of this last night and a while ago while attending class so um yea it's chaotic.

the songs i've mentioned so far in the tag ramble aren't um consecutive so yeah there are a lot of blank spaces in between fjsjsj and yea I haven't figured out the other leads and their arcs yet (probably 5-6 leads). for now um the planned songs feature 3 of the leads:

Kate - basically answers the question of What If Eva Sanchez Was The Protagonist and What If Eva Sanchez Saw The Hell That Is Don't Even (in this show, this song is called "Anakpota?" or "The Fuck?"); she's a transferee and is having a bit of a hard time adjusting to the new school environment; her reasons for transferring run a bit deeper than just "humanities is a lot more interesting than stem or business shits"; i guess her main character themes are burnout, the want for childlike wonder again and overcoming the fear that comes with chasing what you really want and no i am definitely not self projecting what are you guys talking about smh rhhdhs /hj (altho i admit that this is loosely based on my own experience with deciding to transfer schools) and yea she's a very closeted lesbian that slowly starts to comes out to others and to herself more throughout the course of the show. and also she gets a girlfriend YAY

Noel - rn i don't have that much planned out for him cause u know barebones plot but so far um i guess he's the chill dude, overall good guy, rantaro amami from danganronpa v3 vibes, and he's initially framed as the "love interest" for Kate esp in the song "Ikaw Ba Ay..." or "Are You..." (i wanted that to be a play on the typical Filipino Teen Hetero Romance CAUSE THAT SHIT IS IN EVERYWHERE JFJSJD I AM GONNA MAKE A WHOLEASS RANT ON THAT SOON AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME) but surprise motherfucker BOTH OF THEM ARE GAY AND BOTH BOND OVER IT AND BECOME BEST FRIENDS YAY WOOOO i kinda want him to be like the typical "Filipino Teen Heartthrob" star student with the twist being that he's gay and not make that a throwaway joke cause um yea that's a throwaway joke here that someone who is real catch for the heteros but is actually gay is "sayang" or "worthless" here.

Ella - ngl she is probably gonna end up as the main lead here fjdjd i'd say she has riley+chess vibes aka The School's Hotshot Achiever and Student Leader That Is Very Intimidating But Is Actually Really Freaking Kind and i guess with a dash of Kate Dalton-ish snark. Like i said the plot is barebones rn so i dunno anything but i do imagine them being the one that drives the plot forward due to her outspokenness. I also imagine her to be the one (along with Noel) that makes Kate a lil bit more comfortable with her sexuality and yup you guessed it Ella is gay too (bi to be specific oh and she uses she/they pronouns) and altho still a bit closeted, they're a bit more comfy with it. also they become Kate's gf yay!

those are the leads that i have kinda planned out so far but yea i still gotta expound kna lot of atuff and make up more leads for this but then again i just started conceptualizing this last night so ANYWAYS HERE ARE THE OTHERS SONGS THAT I LITERALLY JUST THOUGHT UP LAST NIGHT (aside from the ones already mentioned)

+ "Nakakapanibago" or "Well This Is New" - Ella and Kate work together on a school project aaand gay panic ensues. both of them take turns in addressing the audience and panicking over each other in um er an "Oh My God She's Very Fucking Cute What The Fuck" way. it kinda has What Is This Feeling from Wicked vibes if you remove the aggression and antagonization jdjsd and i kinda emphasize on how overwhelmed they are cause for Kate, everything - from the school to the subjects to the people - is new and her attraction to Ella is like a cherry bomb on top of a chaos cake while for Ella, who has studied in the school since kindergarten which is why nothing about the school fazes her anymore, Kate is a literal breath of fresh air and the spontaneity scares them and excites them at the same time. The number is comedic (and is chance for me to add a shit ton of wordplay cause yAY WORDPLAY) but i guess also hints at their fears which will definitely come into play later.

+ "Mabuting Laban" or "Good Fight" - a group number led by Ella, this is the first song in the musical that isn't mostly comedic. like um the musical so far (before this song) is mostly somewhat of a parody-just-for-laughs-don't-take-this-seriously piece but with this, the show finally hints to something a lot more serious and insightful. so basically ella tells kate (this scene comes right after the Nakakapanibago sequence) that they have noticed that the latter is um very very shocked at the blatant show of LGBTQ+ stuff. Kate mentions that altho many students have since then spoke up for LGBTQ+ acceptance, things were a lot more conservative back in her former school (once again wooo definitely not self projection /hj) so like seeing all this is very new to her. Ella then mentions that things weren't always like that - a lot of fighting had to be done in order to get to that point. and because most of the students already were branded with a rebellious reputation (for a lot of delinquent behavior), they really didn't give a fuck anymore if they were being controversial or not. What mattered was that they would make the school environment a lot more welcoming for themselves and for others. That sentiment is also shared by other leads singing along as they go out of their way to ensure a much better environment for everyone (in terms of lgbtq+ rights, undoing the stigmatization of mental health matters, student activism yadda yadda)

(oh and also this kinda serves as something that bridges the prejudices between the two schools since Ella's school is famous for a lot of student delinquency while Kate's former school is famous for being known as the "Best School In The Region With The Best Students" (which is why Ella understands why the students in Kate's school are a bit more hesitant to speak up because Kate's former schoolmates got way too much to lose) and the rivalry those schools have with each other cause students from ella's school think those from kate's school are pompous little shits while those from kate's school think that ella's schoolmates are delinquents and yes this is commentary on the dynamic my former school'scstudents and my current school's students share) (i should probably give this its own song)

+ "Ayoko" or " I Don't Want It" - (this does not come right after Mabuting Laban fjsjd i honestly dunno where to put this) this comes right after a conversation regarding her reputation in her former school and yea this is Kate poking fun at the "I Want" song musical trope. Like um she addresses the audience saying something along the lines of "oooohh wow complicated backstory exposition! you are probably expecting a song rn ala "How Far I'll Go" from Moana but guess what bitches fuck you all cause i'm gonna sing a song about the things I don't want just to fucking annoy you." it starts off as incredibly satirical and um Kate Dalton-vibes all throughout the scene with lots of pettiness which will then gradually transition to her singing about how she threw all the opportunities presented to her by the former school just because she really didn't want to do them and was tired of saying "yes" just to be enough for them. She then starts singing about her taking control of her own narrative by finally leaving the school. She still laments about those lost opportunities and admits that she still kinda wants to pursue those, but if she has to sacrifice rest for greatness, then she doesn't want it. The song ends with a verse akin to most I Want songs as she finally admits what she really wants the most: rest and wonder.

also here's a verse i made up just a while ago

Diyos ko, sabihin mo, ano pa ang kailangan kong gawin/upang mabawi ang mga ninakaw sa akin/upang maibalik ang pag-asang nawala/upang sa wakas ako'y makakapagpahinga/sapagkat hindi na ako nagnanais ng kadakilaan/ang hinihingi ko lamang ay ang aking kabataan

translation (i'll try my best to make it rhyme): My God, tell me, what else do i have to do/so I can take back all that they have taken from me/so that I can bring back the hope I've long so been deprived of/so that for once in my life, I'll be able to breathe/ cause I no longer want all the greatness that you say I could've had/ I only want to wonder, I only want my childhood back

+ "Halos Lagi Nalang"or "Almost Always The Same" - if this sounds familiar yes i rambled about this before gjdjdjd I started conceptualizing this song even before i even started conceptualizing the musical. So yea this is in Act 2 the song starts with mentioning the exhaustion that comes with being an LGBTQ+ teen in the philippines cause yup same old conservative religious bullshit same old same old shit and despite many a lot of people advocating for LGBTQ+ rights, nothing ever changes around here because well conservative religious bullshit. so yea this is kind of an extension of "Good Fight" but make it more about the burnout felt by a lot of teens that want something better than whatever we have right now. Then it will also apply to the other causes that the leads fight for (activism,destigmatization of mental health stuffs, etc). I'd say it's a combination of Before the Breakdown + Move On musically speaking (yea PMA has influenced me by a LOT). eventually this becomes one of the star numbers fo the show cause yea all the leads will do a shit ton of singing and harmonizing (but for here i'd say Noel and Kate have a tiny bit more of the spotlight since for now they are the ones with the very LGBTQ+ based plotlines). I really REEAAALLY want this song to work aaaa i've been playing around with the melody a lot recently and if i can't write the whole musical, then i'll be content with at the very least writing this song

+ "Try Lang Natin" or "Let's Try It Out" - this is a very barebones sequence atm but basically it's a scene where both Kate and Ella come to terms with their fears related to uncertainty and go "fuck it we don't know jackshit about the future anyway so why not ondulge a bit and ejoy what we have today" and decide to start going out with each other YAYYYYY and also this is like one of the few scenes here were Ella is much more visibly nervous compared to everyone else in the scene so yay for helping each other come to terms with their own vulnerabilities WOOOOO (also paige i remember you saying once that kate and eva could've had a Forever reprise duet right? And correct me if i'm wrong but i think u said it could be about eva assuring kate that she won't go anywhere? WELP I'M STEALING THAT JFJSJJDF /lh /hj AND YUP KATE AND ELLA ARE BASICALLY UM KINDA KATEVA IF YOU SQUINT SO THANK YOU PAIGE FOR THAT IDEAAAA)

AND THAT'S IT SO FAR WOO THIS TOOK ME 5 HOURS TO TYPE IT ALL OUT FJDJSJFF i'm kinda impressed with this ngl considering that i literally started making this up last night and i hope that i can make something out of it woo

And if you guys somehow reached the end of the post and have read every single thing, I'm sending you a lot of hugs and a lot of milkshakes

#paige i am so so sorry it took a long time and i am so sorry that the response is VERY VERY LONG DJXJS #but i hope you liked it!#the ask cheered me up btw fjsjx like i wasnt expecting anyone to be interested but then u sent the ask and YAY KRKDJ #if anyone has any questions or comments or anythjng then um feel free to um hit me up with them YAYYYYY #okay to rb btw if you wanna express ur opinions in the tags #i like hearing other people's opinions on my rambles so feel free to do so if you wanna #thanks for the ask paigeee #paige! (literally riley)#ask me stuff #hmm i should make a tag for this #Izzy's rambles and shit #yea that

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novantinuum · 5 years

Text

Shattering Atlas (a corrupted!Steven one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (TW: depression and body horror)

Words: 4.2K~

Summary: A boy can only carry an entire galaxy upon his back for so long before the weight of it all finally becomes too much.

Folks, here it is! I’m finally finished. AO3 link to be posted in the reblogs.

Disclaimer: This is absolutely far darker and more drastic than I believe canon would EVER tread if this theory had the faintest chance of being anywhere close to the truth, but sometimes you just feel like being super angsty for angst's sake, y'feel? It was an interesting writing experiment nonetheless. Not gonna lie, this is kinda a vent piece. Please do heed those tags. This delves into some difficult territory both mentally and otherwise, as it's written entirely from Steven's POV.

_____

Steven knows he’s messed-up.

It’s not something he tries to advertise to all the sweet, innocent people who somehow after all this time still choose to stand by his side, but he can’t lie to himself. Spending a significant chunk of your childhood actively doubting your own personhood shatters you in ways no amount of unconditional love can ever hope to mend. And sure, he’s not his mom. He knows that. Been there, had the mental breakdown, seen it, done it. The proof’s in his gem half. He knows. But as much as everyone in his life coddles him, gently tries to reassure him while he tirelessly works day and night to realign the foundation of an entire ancient civilization...

“You’re almost an adult now, isn’t that exciting?”

“Don’t worry about the future, the futures I see for you are as limitless as they are bright.”

“Take a break if you need to, ‘kay? You totally deserve one, little man.”

“Y’know, Schtu-ball, the wonderful thing about adulthood is that you can choose to fly wherever the wind takes you!”

...it’s clear none of that matters anyways. Because it’s not true, not for him. Because beyond his identity as a Crystal Gem, beyond that bottomless desire for belonging he’s been chasing all his life, ever since the fateful moment early in his childhood in which he finally realized— small, pudgy hands clutching at the oversized hand-me-down shirt right over the pink hand-me-down gem in his belly— that he isn’t like anyone else and never will be, the truth is that he genuinely doesn’t know what he wants. Who he is.

Everyone else does.

Connie has plans. Hopes, dreams. A future. She’s already thinking about college, and aims on double majoring in political science and environmental science. (A combination only she’s daring enough to pursue, but if anyone’s got the drive to succeed in that it’s her.) Dad’s still manager for Sadie Killer and the Suspects, and they’re going strong. Amethyst has been playing tour guide to all her fellow Prime sisters lately, galavanting with them all around planet Earth. Garnet is currently on the search for terrified cross-fusion Gems still in hiding across the galaxy. Pearl, Bismuth, and a number of the boardies have spearheaded a campaign to help slowly teach and integrate the humans of the Zoo into modern day society. Lapis and Peridot recently built another barn in the outskirts of Little Homeworld, and are enjoying each other’s company.

But him? When all is said and done, as the restructured Gem society stabilizes and soon no one will need him for anything anymore, when Gems and humans alike stop knocking on his metaphoric door with handfuls of their problems for him to drop everything and solve, he has nothing left. He’s no one. No future, no clue. He’s been drained empty.

He’s just drifting through life with the parking break on, continuously waiting— his nerves jittering at every quiet moment— for the next big crisis to crash into his universe and drop feed him even the tinniest shard of purpose.

After all, what is one to do when they’ve spent their entire life training to save the world, but the world has already been saved?

_____

He can’t recall exactly when his current predicament began anymore.

Time’s been hard to keep track of as of late— the days and weeks blending together in an incomprehensible fashion— and yet simultaneously, he might as well have lived a lifetime in the span of the blink of an eye. That being said, he’s pretty sure his most recent gem troubles didn’t truly kick into gear until after the incident with the, erm... cactus monstrosities.

He genuinely didn’t mean to hurt anyone, he didn’t. He only wanted to help... to heal. To try and repair but a shred of the damage Homeworld wrought on this innocent world. It worked when Earth was poisoned, so it should work in the Kindergartens too, right?

Wrong. Very wrong.

His stomach churns as he catches a glimpse of a silly photo of Peridot and himself hanging on the wall by the stairs. A static monument to his shame. Lapis is (still, days later— or is it weeks?) taking care of her gemstone at this very moment, sure, but remembering what happened before that... holding Peridot’s cracked gem in his quivering hands, biting back cries of hopelessness as he ran to the nearest warp pad, escaping from the malformed, hurting creatures born of his own magic... it‘s the kind of horror that he’s sure will linger in his dreams for a long time yet.

It’s like he’s broken. Like his powers just aren’t coming as naturally to him anymore. It’s not quite like that time with the rejuvenator. There’s no sickly glow flickering in and out of existence. No external force acting upon it. No, it’s deeper than that. It’s not a gem sourced problem, it’s him. He’s just... wrong. He’ll try to use his healing ability and it’ll backfire, he’ll summon his bubbles and shields but they’re noticeably less durable, he’ll birth life from his very soul and it’ll grow bitter and corrupt, every bit a mirror of his present mental state. He’ll jump up high in the sky to burn out years of repressed stress in semi-peace and before he can actually do so gravity will grab ahold of him like he’s a petulant, disobedient child and drag him back to the shore. It makes him want to scream, to grind his fingers into the sand so hard his knuckles go white as he sobs out every last one of his stupid, meaningless frustrations, but instead his house is always swarming with people, and his bedroom has no real door, (and he’s too embarrassed to ask for one), and in sum he can never find enough time alone to freely be his genuine messed-up self. It’s fine, though. He doubts he’s capable of crying at this point anyways.

“Dude, you okay?” Amethyst asks with brows furrowed in concern, snapping him back to reality.

His GameStation controller rests precariously in his loose grasp, entirely forgotten in the previous moment. The game they’re playing is paused. He must have blanked out again, and completely ruined their co-op fight. He lets out a shaky breath as he tightens his fingers around the plastic grips, digging into them as if they’re his sole handle on reality.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says swiftly, plastering a smile on his face with the ease of someone who’s been growing adept at this endless charade for months and months. “Didn’t sleep too well last night. Muscle cramps from training, y’know?”

He watches her closely, catalogues every minute shift in her features. Her eyes narrow so slightly that anyone else might’ve missed it. But he doesn’t. He’s observant. He’s gotta be. It’s the only way he’s kept going for this long, the only way he can ensure no one else knows. They don’t need any more worry. Regardless, Amethyst’s lack of subtlety betrays her, because it’s clear she’s searching his expression and body language right back. His chest pounds. Hastily, he holds up the controller, feeling his face go pale under her scrutiny.

Geeze, how pathetic.

No matter how hard he tries to mask it, he‘s already falling apart.

“So... we gonna play another round, or?” Right as he says this, his stomach chooses to let out an inopportune gurgle. He bites at the insides of his cheeks, inwardly cursing at the bad timing.

It’s thankfully enough to divert Amethyst’s attention from... other matters, though.

“Yo. Ste-man. Your stomach’s straight up monologuing. Have you even eaten today?”

He dimly considers this as he tries not to focus on how empty and faint his body currently feels, mind turning to fuzz. “Uhh...”

She frowns, and promptly pulls herself to her feet. “Yeah, so I’m gonna take that as a no. I’ll be right back, ‘kay? Gonna get us some cheese!” she declares bombastically, putting on a mock announcer voice.

He watches her leave his room, prancing downstairs like she doesn’t have a care in the world. A faint huff of sheer relief passes through his nostrils. Absentmindedly, his thumbs jiggle the controller’s joystick, unable to strike the earlier image of Amethyst— concern engulfing her usually carefree self— from his mind. He really should be more careful about what he says. How he acts.

He honestly couldn’t live with himself if he slipped up and became yet another emotionally taxing problem for them to deal with. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl... all his family, his friends. They deserve peace. They deserve to be satisfied, they deserve their happily ever after. They certainly don’t deserve him, self-destructing all over the bright and shining future they’d won.

Or nearly shattering them.

Putting them in needless danger, danger that’s all his fault, because he’s broken.

His throat grows tight, airway constricted, images of black beady eyes, razor sharp fangs, and malformed limbs invading his thoughts, clawing away at insecurities long scabbed over until they ooze a bitter red. Peridot’s shrill yelp as she’s overtaken in an instant. That dreadful, immediately recognizable sound, a cracking Gem, seared onto his heart for the rest of time.

He... he can’t deny it anymore. His magic’s gone toxic. He’s toxic, bringing suffering and decay where once he brought healing. All his Gem powers are fading, maybe forever. And with them fading, he’ll soon be of no use to anyone, and when they realize why they faded they won’t want him around anyways, and y’know, it’s probably for the better they’ll have a concrete reason to finally push him away. He’s not stupid. He’s always known what an emotionally taxing strain he’s been on everyone, ever since the day Mom died for him to be born.

Steven grips the controller so hard that his fingers grow numb, mind stewing in the dark fantasies of what he’d like to do with himself when he’s left behind for good.

And then... his heart leaps in his throat as he dimly hears Amethyst begin to whisper to the others (they’re back? They’re back?? When did they return, why didn’t you notice them, how could you just miss—) downstairs.

“Y’guys,” he hears her say frantically, under her breath, “I think we really gotta talk with Steven. Something’s seriously wrong, and he won’t tell me what.”

“What, you mean to say he’s in danger? Garnet, do you see anything?”

“Hmm. I don’t foresee any external threats to Steven’s safety in the near future, but...”

“Amethyst, he’s clearly still upset about Peridot. And once she reforms in a few days, when she’s ready, he’ll be fine! Trust me.“

“No, trust me, I genuinely think this is more than just Peridot! It’s getting me super worried. He hasn’t been eating like he should, y’guys. I don’t think he’s showered in days. Sometimes it’s like he’s... I dunno, like, he isn’t even fully present. And y’know, thinking about it now? It’s been like this for a while. Since before all the cactus stuff.”

“Well, if he doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not sure how we could—“

“We need to call Greg over,” Garnet interrupts Pearl, a new, thinly veiled panic rising in her voice. “Right now.”

His eyes stretch open wide.

Oh.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no... Not here, not now, not— please, not now!

His breath hastens, his body outright shaking now. He curls tight into himself, the game controller dropping from his slackened fingers onto the floor as he clutches his knees to his chest. Sweat beads in droplets on his forehead. He outright yanks at his hair.

Amethyst, she can’t just waltz downstairs and!—

I don’t want to—

Peridot, getting cracked, I- it’s all my fault and she didn’t—

I- all of this- I’m so useless, careless, l- I’m losing my mind, what’s even wrong- why are you panicking!- I don’t—

T-they can’t know, they can’t know, they CAN’T—

He can’t fully bite back his cries as his gem flares burning hot, a rush of pure, unadulterated agony spiking through his hard light veins in an indescribably eternal split-second, the very experience of hypocrisy. Every single muscle in his body seizes. His ears ring, filled with a cacophonous clamor of sound that slashes through his mind with the deadly force of a long blade. Crippling. Debilitating. All-consuming. Hell. This is hell. Because then his head is pounding, and his limbs are all weak and shaky, and for a moment he’s bathed in a faint wash of pink, the glow enveloping him like his own corona of sickness as he succumbs to the pain he’s sequestered inside, bitterly festering for all these years.

Hell eventually recedes, both its note and its physical touch, but the dark clouds looming over his mind do not. Slowly, he loosens his grip on his curls, trying desperately to bring balance to his breathing. His ears are still ringing. His head is still cotton. Questions abound. For instance: what on Earth was that?? Stars, is something else wrong with his gem now, too? Thoroughly disorientated, he yanks up the hem of his shirt.

“Steven?!” Pearl calls frantically from downstairs, right as his trembling fingers gently trace the exposed facets of his gem. “Are you okay up there?”

He squints, features compressing in his sheer confusion. Visually, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. No imperfections, no flickering light, nothing. So then what’s—

“Hey, Steven? Yo?? You, uh- maybe wanna come eat downstairs, or?”

A shudder runs clear through his form, starting from his gem and coursing outwards to the furthest extremities. He grits his teeth as he rides through the stabbing discomfort, clutching at his stomach. It’s like he’s about to vomit. Sure, so maybe he was really hungry before, and maybe that has a little to do with what he’s experiencing now, but... this... still doesn’t feel right. Spots swim in his vision as he glances down again.

And that’s when he sees it, slowly creeping across the skin of his bare forearm as clear as day.

It’s a patch of dull, pinkish hide. Not human skin, hide. He runs his index finger along its perimeter, all of reality screeching to a halt as his brain performs somersaults in a desperate last-ditch attempt to contextualize the information his eyes are sending him right now.

“What?” he whispers in disbelief, (even though he has a few terrifying theories), frantic heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum.

“I’m checking on him,” Garnet says, just loud enough that he knows for certain she intends him to hear. Solid footsteps creep across the floorboards, advancing towards the foot of the stairs.

It’s frankly impressive how fast a single stimulus can turn panic to outright paranoia.

He almost trips over himself diving to retrieve his jacket off the floor, forcing his arms through the sleeves faster than any of the Gems could ever summon their weapons. Hide it. Hide it away. They can’t see you, they can’t know you’re corru- NO! Stop.

Bathroom. He needs to get to the bathroom.

His bare feet solidly connect with the floor, toes curling inwards as he shudders again. A pulsing ache settles into the bones of his skull. Then a prickle at his neck. Reflexively, he slaps his hand against the affected locale. There’s another spot steadily growing there.

Alone, NOW.

The whole world’s spinning as he turns on his heels and flies across the length of his bedroom— sprinting past the TV, shoving past Garnet, who’s already halfway up the open stairwell, and leaping clear over the couch from midway down the last set of steps. (Everyone’s shouting in blind panic as he enters their sight. Fear. Needless, unwanted worry. Calling his name, calling for peace, but his ears are still ringing and their voices are overlapping and he can’t distinguish any of it.) When he reaches the bathroom his hand grips the knob so hard that the metal almost crumples under his force, and he swings himself through the doorway, slams it shut, and turns the lock with pink-splotched fingers faster than any one of the Gems can move to stop him.

For a split moment, things are okay. He’s alone. Moreover, he’s safe.

(But are you really?)

His head is pounding again, the pulsing at his temples soon coalescing into a constant inescapable misery. Letting his eyes flutter shut, he lets his forehead lull against the door. Flexes his knuckles, imagines the splotches disappearing from sight as easily as eye bags under makeup. He tries to calm his breathing in the meditative way Garnet once showed him. In for four counts... and out. In... and out. Come on, just ride it out, Universe. You’re a Gem- a diamond, for cripe’s sake! Control it. Conceal. Move on.

“Steven?!” Amethyst calls from outside. “Please talk to us, what’s goin’ on?”

"Whatever it is, you don't have to be alone!" Pearl adds. He doesn't even have to see her face to know that she's crying.

A renewed burst of panic spikes through his veins at this realization.

“Stop worrying about me, I’m fine!” he bites back on impulse.

“No, you’re NOT!” Amethyst hollers, and then... after a thoughtful pause, her tone softening: “I- I know you’re not.”

He stares down at his hands, brows threading together, watching as the patch of hide continues to inch across his skin. The genuine concern interlaced in every syllable of her speech is enough to make his gut churn with guilt.

“Steven, I... stars, I know you probably overheard me talking to everyone jus’ a second ago, and I know I probably betrayed every scrap of trust we ever had ‘coz of that, and I wanna say I’m sorry, but I can’t just stand aside and watch you treat yourself like garbage. Please, the door’s jammed. Let us in. We just wanna help!”

His lip quivers, despite himself. “I don’t need any help!” he insists, stubbornly pushing past the crack in his voice. “I’m just—“

He’s interrupted by a rush of crippling agony radiating upwards from his gem once more, the ache at either side of his head intensifying into three points. Hands rush to the site on automatic. Fingers grasping, searching. Discovering.

There’s something growing at his temples, he realizes with a rush of horror. Something hard, faceted. Disturbingly cold to the touch.

There’s no way to bite back his screams as the growths fully protrude, none at all, even with his mouth clamped shut, and even though he can’t see them he can sense their weight as they wind upwards and back, up and out of his curls, and he’s shaking, oh stars is he shaking, chest heaving up and down so hard he’s not sure he’ll ever be free of these awful tremors ever again, and— A hoarse sob forces its way to the surface as a third growth crowns his forehead. Trembling fingers scrape down the length of the door as he collapses to his knees, nails sharpening into gnarled talons as they sink further and further into the wood, carving through it like butter. He clenches his jaw back together so hard that with any greater pressure he might shatter his own teeth.

Still quite woozy under the threat of hyperventilation, he slowly turns his head. Extricates those dreadful claws from the door. Dares himself to look. Forcing himself back up to his feet, he gazes deep into the depths of the mirror. And as the creature trapped on the other side stares back through sickeningly pink irises— blotches of color steadily creeping up their jawline and across their cheek, inching to meet the base of those glistening crystalline horns— all known reality shatters into smithereens.

Not me, not me, not me, is the mantra he chants to himself like a prayer, stubbornly clinging to any vestige of normalcy as if this is all but a vivid nightmare he can stir awake from.

(As if deep down, a tiny, beaten-down part of himself still wants to believe he deserves a future too.)

But the darkness reflected in that mirror is following his every jerky, erratic movement as all the despair and guilt and self-hatred festering within continues to consume him like a matchstick to fire.

Not real. It’s not real! I don’t need help. I don’t need the Gems, they don’t need to know, I’m fine, I’m FINE, this isn’t corru - NO, DON’T THINK ABOUT IT! YOU CAN’T—

They’re yelling outside. Arguing, probably. (And true to form, Pearl‘s cries are the shrillest.) But he can’t be certain of anything anymore while smothered under the fog’s thickening surface, with the rest of the world relegated to mere static and stimuli. Not a word, not a clue. No way to know if it’s an argument about him or with him.

And in his mind their distress stands as yet another sign. Just another slice of proof that they truly are at their happiest without him, that his continued existence only serves as a complication. He can’t deny it anymore. He can’t lie, can’t tiptoe around the inevitable truth; like this, he’s nothing but a liability. A ticking time bomb, set to shatter everything and everyone in his path. Shaking like a leaf, he unfurls his fists, watching as the dull pink hide overtakes the last clear patches of flesh upon his misshapen, monstrous fingers.

They’re better off without you.

The passing seconds cease to exist as he convulses again, this time centralized at the base of the spinal column. He doubles over, leans into the pain. Rides it through vertebrae by vertebrae, raking his claws deep into the wood floor as a fifth limb emerges from where the spine left off, steadily lengthening— fortifying itself with jagged crystalline spikes as it grows ever longer. Its weight is entirely foreign, yet it shifts upon his slightest command. Panic overruling all logic once more, he thrashes about, the tail swinging across the bathroom counter like a whip. His toothbrush, comb, and other various toiletries he hasn't made use of in days clatter to the floor, abandoned.

R u n.

The thought rampages through his shattered soul like an avalanche. Yanks him by the horns. Consumes his mind and body like a trance. He has to escape from here, from the house, the Gems, has to run quick, before it’s too late and you can’t do anything more but wordlessly scream.

He doesn’t stop to question this impulse. Doesn’t stop to peer at that poor tortured creature in the mirror again. For a moment his claws struggle to grasp the crumpled door knob, fumbling in failure’s wake.

When he finally forces the door open, the whole world holds its breath.

Pearl’s eyes blow wide upon the no-doubt horrifying sight. Her hands fly to her mouth. “Steven?!”

Even Amethyst reacts in an adverse manner, stepping back towards the support of the wall. “Holy...” she breathes, face paling.

And just knowing he’s out here now, every gnarled, nightmarish feature exposed in front of his family like a raw nerve, makes his blotchy, spot-covered skin crawl.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME, I’m FINE!” he hollers as he sprints to the warp pad, barbed tail whipping wildly behind him. Pearl yelps in alarm as she only barely dodges its mace-like swing. Unable to hold back his sobs anymore, he collapses to his knees on the hard crystal. Coils his tail around himself by sheer instinct. Hides his face away behind arms. Hot tears spill from his eyes, vision blurring and sharpening in rhythm to the unbearable ache pounding in his head. “I’m fine,” he whispers pathetically, voice catching.

He can practically feel the vibrations through the floor as someone approaches. It’s Garnet. He doesn’t know how he knows, but it can only be her. His breath hastens against his better wishes. Can’t stop, won’t stop, can’t stop... The vision of the temple door begins to pirouette in dizzy circles around him as he arches his back, and with a sharp gasp feels something tear its way through his shirt and jacket right above his spine, all jagged and spiked and— NO! He grinds his jaw together, shrinking further into himself. Not real. It’s not real, not real, not—

“Steven,” she says in a measured tone as he heaves for air. (No, with hesitation. Fear. She’s hesitating because she’s afraid of you, she’s afraid because you’re a monster NO.) “I know you’re hurting, but I need you to take a deep breath with me, and try to calm down. Please, let us help you...”

A heart wrenchingly familiar hand reaches out to him, adorned by a ruby gem and a golden wedding band. His fingers clamp around thick, greasy curls, brushing against the horns protruding from his temples. A keening cry slips out from his mouth against his better wishes. They want to help. They only want to help...

He peeks at her through the crook of his arm, his most likely reddened, blotchy eyes meeting hers. She’s taken off her visor. She’s crying too.

For a glimmer of a second, he considers reaching out. Taking her offered hand with his own clawed one. But then...

Haven’t you been a burden enough already?

His face screws up, and his hands clench into fists.

“NO,” he shouts, slamming them down upon the warp pad. It activates, (blessedly still accessible at this early stage of corruption NO don’t think about it!!), glowing a bright cyan as he envisions where he wants to go: no particular destination in his mind but away, away, away.

After all, he already knows he’s a monster.

So... he might as well become one too.

_____

Notes:

Some days you just gotta have an entire mental breakdown and go full wyrm, y'hear?

HCs I tapped into for this fic:

After being healed, formerly cracked Gems take longer to reform than Gems who were only poofed. Peridot will be okay eventually, she just hasn’t reformed quite yet.

Steven is still able to warp because he hasn’t quite passed the threshold of corruption that prevents a Gem from accessing the warp stream. I imagine it's very much a matter of mental connection, and having the right presence of mind to tap into it. Probably a few minutes after this, if Steven were to continue going downhill and his mind fully fell into the fog of corruption, he’d no longer be able to warp. He got super lucky here.

This potential future blindsided Garnet because previously- like how Steven’s newfound maturity threw her off as discussed in Pool Hopping- she hadn’t factored in the idea of Steven being in such a low mental state. Amethyst was the first to really see past his attempts to mask it because she personally had dealt with depression like this before and knew what it looked like.

Maybe one day after SUF airs I'll write more on this topic, but as for now this will remain a one-shot. I 100% imagine Steven would ultimately be okay in this timeline, though. They'd be able to help him, stop the corruption. Steven goes to heckin' therapy. He'll live on, he'll begin to recover and cope. But that's a whole 'nother story.

Thank you for reading!

#su #su future #steven universe #corrupted steven theory #su fanfic #garnet #amethyst #pearl #su fanfiction #corrupted steven #corrupt!steven #body horror #my writing stuff #the mighty 500

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frecklystars · 3 years

Note

Hi, uhhh, do you have a specific tag for your Saving Starlight AU? Because I've low-key been thinking about the 2 of you ALL DAY and just. Thinking your loved one is dead? Looking for them anyway? The LONGING? THE ANGST? THE EVENTUAL SAPPY REUNION AND HURT/COMFORT? THE EMOTIONS???? YES PLEASE.

(nevermind. AU tag located. I will now proceed to burn through it and lie in bed all night thinking about you doofuses. Have a nice day!)

HELLO SWEET ANON!! This message made my day, oh my God. ALL DAY? That is so sweet!! I didn’t think anyone was really interested in my AU sldjfdslf!!! I haven’t even posted much about it yet because there’s so many layers to it, but YES the tag you’ve found (💕 Everything I did to get to you 🌟🌸) is the ship name for me and RiD2015 Starscream, and in that tag you’ll find a lot of posts relating to missing someone and grieving over them for sure.

Fun fact!! It’s called “Saving Starlight AU” because my S/I’s nickname is “starlight” or “starlight princess” by mostly everyone in the series (except STSC, he calls me his little starflower because he feels it’s much more unique and special) and everyone is like “we gotta save our starlight!” EXCEPT. LITTLE DO THEY KNOW. I’m saving MY Starlight!!! I’m saving STARSCREAM!!! He got some, in my opinion, horrible and undeserved endings in both TFP and its sequel series Robots in Disguise (2015). I literally hate TFP season 3 + the movie AND RiD2015 SO MUCH that I’m re-writing it and making it a bad timeline that will be erased. We are out here literally saving each other!! >:D

ANOTHER fun fact!! The ship name is inspired by the song 🌟 Everything I Did to Get to You by Ben Platt!! 🌸 The very minute I heard the song, it flooded me with all these ideas to rewrite a much better ending for Starscream in RiD2015, and it’s been really special to me ever since!! I think the specific date was around June 22nd actually...?

I’ll give you a little bit of info, but eventually I will post artwork + official story information one day that’s a lot easier to follow, if you’re interested! :D

Basically the premise is, my self insert has a time traveling watch that makes her “jump” between dimensions! The watch makes her jump into a certain dimension (in this case, the TFP universe), and the watch “breaks” and refuses to let her out of the universe until she “fixes” it, basically once the story is complete and there’s a happy ending!

Well one day, in the middle of the TFP universe, she just-- poof!! Disappears!! Her watch transports her into another universe, even tho she didn’t finish the current one. This is super odd and this has never happened to her before. The Autobots and Decepticons are like “we haven’t seen Keri in WEEKS is she okay??” and each side kind of makes their own search parties. Starscream is in RUINS because he’d only just started dating my S/I at this point, and he’s like “wow the first time I ever truly grow to fall in love with someone and they disappear into thin air just like that?? UNACCEPTABLE” and he keeps the Red Energon necklace he made for me on him at ALL times.

Two years pass, and I’m still kinda working on this part, but Megatron can’t feel the Dark Energon that connected Keri and him together pulsing within his spark anymore. It’s maybe two years later at this point. He’s like “oh. she’s dead. that’s it then.” he’s devastated but he isn’t gonna let it show, so he walks onto the warship and is like “cease all search parties. we’re done here” and Starscream scoffs and goes “What? That’s it? You’re giving up??” and Megatron just glares at him and warns him that no one is to ever bring Keri’s name up ever again.

I could write everyone’s reaction but it’d take way too long, I’ll just focus on Starscream: he stands up to Megatron for the first time in a long time, and he’s definitely punished for it. Megatron has a few breakdowns but most of them are in the privacy of his habsuite, but everyone on the ship kind of knows he isn’t gonna get over what happened. Nothing in canon changes from that point forward-- my self insert isn’t there to change anything, after all! Season 3 stays the same. The movie stays the same. The sequel series, TFP RiD2015, stays the same.... until.

Poof!! Keri has actually been in the RiD2015 universe this whole time!! That show takes place 5 years after TFP-- she wasn’t actually there for literal years though! She just jumped forward in time. She lands on the same vessel that Starscream is on (he has a completely different form/design in this show) and she’s like “!!! That guy sounds exactly like Starscream, but he looks nothing like him?? but I’m in an unfamiliar dimension so I need to find an ally REALLY FAST”

Starscream sees her, and he thinks it’s just another ghost. He’s been seeing little “visions” of Keri for the last seven years now, and when he’d try to touch them, they’d evaporate. He hears her voice. He still has her necklace with him all the time. He’s hurting.

He’s really crushed when she starts calling his name, he’s like “wow this one REALLY hurts, she’s calling me Starlight and everything. if I close my eyes it’ll go away” until she runs into his arms and he breaks because oh my god she’s so soft? She smells like vanilla? She’s real? She isn’t disappearing like all the hazy memories in his head have been doing for the last seven years??

The rest of the story is basically my self insert, uhhh inserting into those three episodes he’s in! And instead of him being presumed dead or in an indefinite catatonic state and sent off to prison, she’s like “oh fuck that” and brings him back to life with her magical star powers (because seriously what is the point of me self inserting and being indulgent if I’m not gonna make myself have cool star powers that can bring my f/os back to life??) and it really focuses on Optimus and Bee sort of... waking up and realizing “oh shit our morals have totally gone out of whack since Keri went missing huh” because in canon, they really didn’t care abt Starscream. They treated him as some iredeemable monster, even though he didn’t even?? do anything wrong at first?? he was like “I want revenge on Megatron for abusing me” and they were like “wow Starscream you seem like the worst piece of shit to ever exist. worse than unicron, actually. we’re not even gonna let you explain yourself we’re just gonna take you down immediately” and Starscream is like “what?? I have just been SITTING HERE--”

so anyway!! It’s still definitely a work in progress but once I start drawing pictures I’ll be able to explain the story a lot more clearly than my scatterbrain is able to do right now LOL. Your message made my day, anon!! Thank you so much for being interested and if you actually read this far, you’re a rockstar!! 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

#Saving Starlight AU #I'll actually update that tag with more info one day fdhhfd but it's a start #💕 Everything I did to get to you 🌟🌸#anonymous #asks #self insert asks #keepsake

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aclosetfan · 3 years

Note

For the Salty asks: 1, 3, 5 and 6?

Thanks so much for playing along! Ima be real with you 2 out of the 4 questions you asked really opened up a can of worms for me, and I’m so sorry. I put the less stressful ones first, and the other two are under the cut! Anyway, these were super fun to answer, but plz don’t hate me for it!! 😂😂

for anyone wondering, here’s the ask list: Salty Asks List

3. Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?

lmao yeah. It’s petty, but honestly, people’s personal morals really bleed through into their fandom opinions, and I’m not willing to put up with any unnecessary hate, especially in environments that are supposed to be fun. I’ve even blocked a few people. In the ppg fandom specifically, I’ve blocked a person who, I guess, thought it was necessary to try to gate-keep with racist/sexist/etc. terminology and ideologies, and I truly don’t have time for that 🤷‍♀️ (a lot of people probs know who I’m vaguing, but if you don’t, you’re lucky)

I can’t say I’ve ever unfollowed anyone for any innocent/not-in-conflict-with-my-morals fandom opinions. Usually, if I don’t agree with something, I just keep scrolling because lol whatever. Everyone’s entitled to their own opinion.

but ngl I have unfollowed people who just get annoying 😬😬 lol

6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?*

I went into this fandom without having too many preferences, so I didn’t have a pairing that I’ve previously hated!

I guess I could say that while I never really hated them, the color-mixing and color-clashing ships weren’t ever on my radar until I came across the fandom content. Now, I really like them! Particularly, Brick and Bubbles!

1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?*

Before anyone gets pissed off at me, before you get into my answer for this question, I’d like to really stress that you’ve got to go into it with absolutely zero fanon context. Like, erase all your headcanons from your mind. I’m dead serious. Because I literally DO NOT get why ANY rrbxppg ship would realistically work ever.

Okay, canonically, these six little funky science experiments were dead set on ending each other. The boys were absolutely horrible to the girls. And the girls literally KILL the boys. I know in fairytale romances, nothing stops love, but bruh, it’s hard to come back from murder 😂 And yeah, I know Clipsville showed the girls and the boys together as older teenagers, and they weren’t trying to kill each other, but that was an obvious gag. In the documentary, it was revealed that that particular “clip” was made because a bunch of people wanted the boys and girls to interact again, and CN gave into the demand. (also, lol I know it super embarrassing, but I did watch the documentary. I just really like Craig McCracken) I just don’t think that realistically a canon pairing between the two sets of triplets would ever be considered a healthy relationship.

Also, ethically, I just—okay listen, I go back and forth with this allllll the time, but the ppgxrrb ships make me confront the “Would I sleep with my clone?” question way too often. Depending on my self-esteem, the answer changes each time. Like sometimes I’m like fuck yeah I would! Other times I’m like, ew, no, I’d have to consider my clone as a twin! I know counterparts aren’t technically clones, BUT the boys really do come across as identical to the girls in the show. The only difference really is their moral alignment (I’m nixing any gender argument). So, I’m like, omg, can I honestly pair these six together in any way??? Are they too close to each other genetically in some sense for this to be morally right??? Like if you ship Brick and Buttercup together, would that just essentially be shipping Brick and Butch/Blossom and Buttercup together in some messed up way??? Is Brick just Blossom, and Blossom just Brick?? Is it better just to ship color-matching instead of mixing???

On top of all of that, wouldn’t the boys and girls be pseudo cousins since Mojo was the Professor’s lab monkey? Technically, in canon, Mojo ends up being both sets of triplets “creator,” so could the rrb and the ppg be considered siblings of some sort? Some of you are probably like, wow, calm down. Stop thinking about it. They’re science experiments. It’s not so deep. Which I get, but I can’t stop, so let me hit you with something ten times worse: should the girls (or the boys) actually be considered biological siblings? Does sugar, spice, and everything nice make you genetically related? Nothing put in the stirring pot was organic—just a bunch of chemicals. If you ship the boys and girls together this could be a good thing! BUT, but, could some sick fuck use this information to somehow justify shipping siblings (ppgxppg or rrbxrrb) together??? This is a literal nightmare to think about!!

All in all, I can’t think about these pairings too much without getting caught up in the logistics of their existence even if they’re fictional lmaoooo! If it wasn’t for the fandom, I wouldn’t ship them together at all. I just think it’s amazing that the ships took off like they did lol, because their literal (fictional) existence is just one giant mind fuck for me. Anyway, I ship them at the end of the day, but tbh I do it with a bit of a guilty conscience. Is it morally correct to ship clone-like counterparts? Or should counterparts be treated like twins? Does it even fucking matter at the end of the day, it’s just fiction? I don’t know the right answer. But I do know the pairings don’t make sense.

Aside from the ppgxrrb, I don’t think there are many other BIG fandom wide pairings. Still, I just want to say that I don’t get why people ship Ace and Buttercup together. The pairing sounds off a few major alarms in my head for obvious reasons. There’s also a bunch of crack ships that involve crossovers with other cartoons. Generally, I don’t mind them, but it seems popular to ship Aku (from Samurai Jack) and Blossom together. And I’m real sorry to those devoted shippers, but again I do NOT get it. I see a lot of romantic fan art depicting romantic situations with Blossom still drawn as a child, and like I get Aku is an immortal demon, so “age is just a number,” but again, BIG ALARMS go off in my head.

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?*

🙃 🙃 Kind of don’t want to answer this, but I will anyway because only a few people actually read my blog lolol, so lol, yep! And it’s the reds. Don’t shoot me lol. When I was in middle school, I got into this fandom, forgot about it, and then came back when I was hit by a round of nostalgia. I’m finishing up college now, and I can confidentially say that the fanon content for the reds hasn’t changed one bit. Or the demand for it.

I tended to find that a lot of red content follows many archetypes that I’m just not into. Their stories can get a real cringey, real fast. Blossom is always written like this “perfect, except she’s not (but she really is)” character. Like she’s the girl you WISH you could be, but she’s also going through a shit ton of stuff that no person IRL would be able to handle without having a mental breakdown. And sometimes, in some stories, Blossom does have a mental breakdown, but in a sexy way, so she’s still perfect. Generally, there’s still something problematic about Blossom that makes it easy for a reader to relate to her on some level, unlike the way people write Bubbles. And then there’s Brick, who’s broody, hyper-possessive or jealous, and hot figuratively and literally (gotta love the fire/ice trope). He’s the only boy—no! Wait!—the only person who could ever possibly outwit Blossom, and he is just so undeniably attracted to Blossom. They’re the smart power couple that should honestly just hook-up in Chapter One to save everybody time, but they don’t. Nah, they’ve got to survive at least two love triangles before they even consider admitting they’re attracted to each other.

And don’t get me wrong, none of that’s bad, but there are a million fanfics that go through the same song and dance with these two. And it’s kind of easy to tell when someone’s hardcore projecting onto Blossom because the type of person they’re personally attracted to is the way they write Brick. And I’m not knocking anyone self-projecting onto characters, sometimes people got to do that to give themselves a fun mental break, but bro, I don’t want to read about it. For one, smart broody assholes aren’t my type. Maybe when I was in middle school, but not anymore. And two, it’s just not interesting to me, which is a real shame since the reds are a majority of the fanon content.

Maybe if I found more red stories where the plot isn’t character-driven but plot-driven, so I see the romance between these two characters in a context where it’s not the main focus of the story, it would solve my issue with the pairing. I haven’t found many fics like that, though.

I can’t really think of any reds fic where I’m like ey, this aint bad unless it has a “major character death” tag attached to it lmao (which are always plot driven stories). However, in all honesty, since I’ve stayed away from red content for a while now, I don’t know the current state of things. Maybe there’s been a load more development for these two, or people have broken away from the same plotlines, but I’m too busy to check. I do browse people’s fic rec lists from time to time, but it sort of feels like everyone just puts the same fics on their lists and moves on.

And before someone’s like, “well, you can say all this about the greens or the blues,” just know I’m fully aware. The greens make me cringe too because there’s a shit ton of possessive and abusive storylines filling their story tags. And what makes me super uncomfortable is how people make Buttercup hit Butch or call him derogatory names, oftentimes unprompted. I don’t know why people make Buttercup such an unlikeable and overly aggressive person. I also don’t get why they make Butch some perverted idiot, but to each their own, I guess? Still, I see these green-character patterns most often in red-focused stories, which is another reason why I avoid them. I’ve found a lot of green-focused content that strays from the abusive tropes I try to avoid. Considerably less than I’d like, but the greens are typically the b-plot pairing, so that’s to be expected. Personally, I’d really like to see more content with the greens finding some kind of inner peace, and recently, I’ve seen a few fics that have tried to tackle this concept.

And lol, if you’ve read some of my posts before, you already know that I think the blues are an underdeveloped fanon pairing. The fandom can’t ruin that pairing for me because it never does anything substantial with it.

Anyway, at the end of the day, I’m just personally not into the way the reds are popularly written, but I get why people are and that’s good with me.

#salty ask game #lisathefan #an ethical debate in MY ppg post??? It's more likely then you think!#long post #ppg pairings #and all my issues with them #also im a firm believer in the block button being your friend!

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

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exposing myself

got tagged by @sunnypogue to do this, so here are a few little things about me that no one here knows :)

the idea is to tell your followers a few random things about yourself that most people don’t know and then tag some mutuals!

let’s goooo!

i’m really good at school. i like the classroom environment and the amount of work that goes into it. i’ve always made pretty good grades and during my junior year of college i failed a finance test and had a complete breakdown in my room. so clearly i don’t handle failure well!

i’m going to grad school because i don’t know who i am outside of being academically talented and i’m scared to have to figure that out

i played soccer my entire life. like probably about 12 years. got scouted for college and then decided i was tired and ready to be done. i did coach a little before school started and loved it.

i’ve had epilepsy since i was 12 and i used to be reeeeally sensitive about it, but it’s all good now. gotta take meds twice a day and avoid strobes but otherwise, just vibing with the wonky brainwaves.

i don’t go in lowes anymore because that’s where i had my first seizure and it’s spooky to me now

i was a huge one direction fan back in the day, like from when they were on the x-factor up until they ended (rip) and that’s where i first started writing fanfiction

i look really young for my age, so as soon as i got to college i started getting piercings and tattoos to make myself look older. it didn’t really work, but i think they look cool anyway and my really conservative family members haven’t seen me without sleeves in over 3 years because of them

i’m a vegan which has been challenging but i just hit a year and a half the other day

i love to read, my favorite series ever is the narnia series and i have a really weird amount of knowledge stored up about that universe

aaand because of a work injury i only have 7 and a half toes

gonna tag: @moldisgoodforyou @rudyypankow @segsation

oh! also to really expose myself my main blog is @bitchell-marner

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anboringday · 4 years

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Tracey x Franklin: Just Friends

Summary: Tracey De Santa, a college freshman, has a crush on the most popular boy on campus, Chad Dillington. Determined to win his heart, she turns to her best friend Franklin Clinton for help. However, she never expected to start developing feelings for her best friend instead...

Word Count: 5.8k

Tags: Fluff!! And more fluff!! Slow burn. Friends to Lovers. (Post Ending-C)

Read on Ao3

Franklin barreled through the door of my room.

Carefully applying my eyeliner in the mirror, I glanced at him. Chiseled jaw clenched and hands balled into fists, a frown marred the space between his arrogantly shaped brows. His strong, muscled arms wired tight beneath his white T-shirt, he stood at the ready for battle.

His cognac-brown eyes searched my room from top to bottom for unknown threats. “Tracey? You good?”

“Um, duh. I’m always fine.” I returned my attention to my makeup. “I’m gonna need you to tone down some of that masculinity. It’s totally uncalled for, super distracting, and it’s ruining my good vibes—”

His warm hand came down on my shoulder. I stiffened, his eyes shrewd and accessing as they bored into me. “You sent me a text saying that you were dying, that you needed my help. You sure you good?”

His voice was soft, filled with concern. My gut kicked. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent that overly dramatic text, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I needed help. Badly. Dad was always busy doing movie director stuff, Mom was too preoccupied with shopping and yoga, and Jimmy was a complete idiot, so Franklin was the only person I could rely on.

It’s been that way for months. He picked me up from school, assisted with my homework, helped me take selfies for Bleeter, talked me through every one of my frequent mental breakdowns—he was a life saver, literally. Because he was so selflessly awesome, I decided to keep him around. Mostly because he did stuff for me, but he also had a nice personality to boot.

And we looked hella good together. Whenever we were out and about in the city, people would stop and turn their heads to gawk at our beauty. I was a celebrity after all, the sexiest girl in Los Santos according to my Bleeter stalkers. And Franklin was powerfully built, dark-haired with stunningly amber eyes. He was a man who looked absolutely gorgeous just about every day of his life. It seemed effortless for him, and I would’ve resented that if weren’t besties.

I confessed, “I lied to get you here, okay?”

“Tracey…” Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You scared the shit outta me, girl. What were you thinking—”

“Don’t be mad. I’m sorry.” I hugged him.

The tension in his muscles relaxed beneath my touch. I took his hand and flopped down on my bed. He sat beside me, our fingers intertwined. “A’ight, Trace. I’m here now, so what’s going on with you?”

“I have news,” I smiled. “The best news. You’re not gonna believe this, but Chad Dillington asked me on a date!”

He stared at me, his expression blank.

“Well?” I tapped his shoulder. “Say something! Aren’t you excited for me?”

“Who the fuck is Chad Dillington?” he asked.

“Are you kidding me?” Energy thrumming through me, I jumped to my feet. “He’s like the hottest, most popular guy at my university! He’s a quarterback for the football team, a committed member of the Alpha Omega Theta Pi—”

“The Alpha Omega what?”

“It’s a fraternity, Frank! Chad Dillington is a big effing deal, literally every chick on campus wants to bone him. He has the prettiest blue eyes and the cutest smile ever.” I twirled on my heels. “I can’t believe he chose me of all people to go on a date with. This is so, like, amazing!”

“That’s cool, I guess.” He shrugged. “You called me over here just to tell me that?”

“No! If there’s any hope in winning Chad Dillington’s heart, I’ll need support. Your support and guidance, in particular.”

His brows furrowed. “Uh…why?”

“Because you can help me understand him! Guys know what other guys are thinking, right? You and Chad have so much in common too. You’re both around the same age, you both like getting sweaty at the gym, you both like getting high—”

“No offense, Trace, but me and that preppy ass frat boy ain’t got shit in common. I’m sorry, but I’m finna pass on this one. Maybe one of yo’ friends at school can help you.” He stood and took off for the door.

“Wait!” I swerved in front of him, blocking the exit with outstretched arms. “You’re right, there are some stuff you and Chad don’t have in common. Like, for example, he’s way smarter than you and his parents are filthy rich.”

Franklin glared a hole into me, a muscle in his jaw twitched. Yikes. Probably shouldn’t have said that.

“But you’re sane,” I complimented. “Sensible, wise beyond your years, and levelheaded. You’re playing with a full deck, Frank. That’s a rarity in Los Santos, you know? Everyone here is crazy.”

“Including you,” he snapped.

“But you love me.” I hugged his muscled arm. “You’re like the ping to my pong, the yin to my yang, the butter to my bread, the chocolate to my milkshake…”

“That was cute until you mentioned the part about chocolate. Now it’s weird.”

“Frank, you have to help me!” I pleaded desperately; my mouth set in a pout. “I’m your best friend, you can’t abandon me when I need you most. It’s not fair! I’ll hate you forever if you do—”

He smothered my mouth with his palm, silencing me. “Fine, I’ll help you on one condition. No more whining and crying like a damn baby, it’s embarrassing. Makes my ears bleed, it’s horrible.”

I smacked his hand away. “Deal. Now shut up and listen.” Standing on the tip of my toes, I spoke quietly into his ear. “Chad invited me to a masquerade ball. It’s a top secret, invitation only party the fraternity is hosting at some old, underground speakeasy—”

“Girl, why you whispering?”

“Because it’s a secret. Mom and Dad can’t know about this, they’ll freak out. Promise me you won’t tell them. You know how overprotective they are, they never let me have any fun.”

“It’s all good, relax. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Swear on it.” I rose my pinky.

“I promise.” His finger curled around mine. “So the most popular douche bag motherfucker in school invites you to an invitation only masquerade ball…”

“Could you refrain from calling him a ‘douche bag motherfucker’, please?” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, all the cool kids are gonna be there. The party is happening this weekend. Friday night. I only have two days to prepare. This is so short notice, I haven’t even picked out a dress.”

“Hey, you could always cancel.”

“No! A date with Chad Dillington is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I can’t back out now. I have to do this.” My stomach grew queasy and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I paced the room, my fingers laced taut until my knuckles turned white. “What if I screw everything up? What if he doesn’t like me?”

Franklin appeared in front of me. I jerked to a halt, riveted to the spot as his searching gaze burned into me, glimmering with golden flecks. Lost in the intensity of his eyes, something shifted in the air between us.

As he stared back, he changed…as if the impalpable wall he kept between us began to chip and splinter. His tough, guarded demeanor crumbled before me, revealing a soft vulnerability in his eyes. A tenderness I had no clue he was capable of.

He patted my shoulder and squeezed lightly, affectionately. My skin tingled from the warm, steady pressure of his touch. “Of course the frat boy is feelin’ you,” he said softly. “He’d be crazy not to.”

My cheeks heated. Since when did he become so flattering? “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” I mumbled.

“Nah. I mean it.” He reached into his pocket for his phone and started tapping away at the keyboard.

I peeked at the screen. “What are you doing?”

“If you’re going to a ball, you gotta know how to dance.” He pulled up a Bleeter video of dancers clad in silk doing the Waltz. “Think you can do that?”

“Uh, I dunno. Last time I tried to slow dance with a guy was at high school prom. I slipped and twisted my ankle in front of everyone. Super embarrassing.”

“Let’s make sure you don’t trip this Friday, a’ight? We can practice together.” He propped his phone on my desk and took my hand in his, the other rested on the small of my back. “You ready?”

Our eyes locked, I nodded weakly, my breath coming in short and fast. The contact was electric, I could feel the edgy energy radiating from him—like a magnetic pull that grew harder to reject by the second. He started moving, his strapping body gliding across the carpeted floor with confidence and easy rhythm. Jeez, when did he get so good at this? He was a natural! My knees wobbly, I followed his lead to the best of my ability.

I felt so small and insignificant in comparison to him, my movement stiff and awkward. And it didn’t help that I was petite, barely over five feet, and he was huge—a tall, deep brown slab of solid muscle and well-exercised strength. The force of his presence was difficult to ignore in a crowded room, and doubly so in an enclosed place like this, so close to me…

After a few beats, the heat of his direct, prolonged gaze became overwhelming. I lowered my head shyly.

“Chin up,” he instructed, tipping my head upward with a gentle push of his thumb under my chin.

Sucking in a harsh breath from the mind-boggling intimacy, I lost my footing and tripped over my own feet. He caught me in his arms just before I collided with the floor, his strong-featured face hovered over mine. Hit with all that striking masculinity at eye-level, I could only stare. Stunned. His beard was well-groomed, complimenting the hard lines of his square cut jaw, and his lips were like the icing on the cake…the fullness gave his rugged good looks the perfect touch of sensuality.

He helped me to my feet. “That wasn’t part of the dance, Trace.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Pinching my lips together, I kicked a tube of old nail polish across the floor. “I’m never going to get this right. I’m so screwed.”

“It ain’t the end of the world. You still got time. Don’t give up, girl.”

“I wish I could be as optimistic as you are.” I sighed. “I’m sorry for being a bitch. There’s a lot of pressure on me and I’m taking it out on you.”

“It’s all good. I’m used to you being bitchy. I’m used to the screaming temper tantrums—when you beat yo’ fists against the floor and your legs start flailing like a fish outta water …” He grinned.

My stomach dropped. “It’s not funny.”

His laughter quickly faded. “My bad.”

An awkward silence filled the room. Twisting a finger around the hem of my blouse, I broke the quiet. “I’ve been working on my temperament with Doctor Friedlander. Do you think I’m getting any better?”

He leaned against the wall, his hands tucked casually into his jean pockets. “You haven’t had any episodes recently.”

“Because you calm me down right before I snap. Every time.”

“So why are wasting stacks on therapy, then? You’ve been seeing a therapist for what? Years? And you were still having panic attacks until…”

“Until you came along,” I completed his sentence. “I don’t want to become so dependent on you, Frank. It’s like, totally unfair to you.”

“Shit, I don’t mind. I ain’t going nowhere, unless you want me to—”

“No!” My heart lurched at the thought of losing him. Shocked by the fury of my reaction, I took a careful step away from him. “You wouldn’t leave me. You’d miss me too much.”

He stared at me for a moment, silent and thoughtful, his brow quirked.

I tensed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Uh, no reason.” He lifted the brim of his black Los Santos snapback to scratch his head. “I should probably bounce. It’s getting late, and you got class in the morning.”

“Wait.” I passed him his phone and gave him a brief good-bye hug. “Do you think you could give me some guitar lessons after school tomorrow? Music class is kinda kicking my ass. I could use the extra help.”

“Yeah. Of course. No problem.” He chuckled, seemingly nervous for some reason. “I ain’t the best with the guitar, but uh, I know a few things so…”

“Are you kidding? You’re way better at it than me.”

“Slightly better.” His teeth gleamed in a smile. “A’ight. I’ll hit you up tomorrow.”

I was a little bummed about him leaving, but he was right. I needed the rest so I could wake up bright and early tomorrow. I returned a smile. “Bye, Frank.”

“Bye, Trace.” He turned to leave but stopped at the door, his gaze shifted to me. “By the way, you don’t have to lie to get me here. You ain’t gotta send no dramatic texts or nothin’ crazy like that. If you need to see me, whatever the reason, just…call. I’ll be here in a heartbeat.”

A pang struck my heart. I swallowed deep, fumbling for words. Before I managed to find my words, he was gone.

With a heavy sigh, I collapsed on my bed. What was the matter with me? Why were my brain cells starting to fry around Franklin? I had a huge date planned with Chad Dillington, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about my best friend.

My phone vibrated on my nightstand. I grabbed it and found two new texts from Franklin.

Still thinking bout how tripped over your own damn feet earlier.

Girl, you clumsy.

Oh my god. With an embarrassed grin, I texted him back; Wow. You sure know just what to say to boost a girl’s confidence :P

He responded a minute later. What if I told you that I like when you’re clumsy? I get to pick you up whenever you fall.

I read the message with wide eyes and then powered down my phone, my nerves danced wildly in my stomach. There was an ache in my chest, and I rubbed at it. Jeez. Pull yourself together, Tracey…

Read more on Ao3

#franklin clinton #tracey de santa #grand theft auto #gta #gta v #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #gta fanart #gta fanfiction #trevor philips #michael de santa #writers on tumblr

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btsvsmysanity · 4 years

Text

Thank you @penicillinjimin for tagging me (I blame you for me having a breakdown over Spring Day at 3am)

(Disclaimer: it’s not all kpop but I hope you will understand why it had to go on this blog)

Rules: You cannot use the same artist more than once

1) one song you loved the first time you listened to and never got tired of?

Fine Line by Mabel

2)one song you cry every time you listen or makes you emotional?

Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis, I know it’s not supposed to be sad but I’m a sap

3) one song that always makes you happy/smile?

1999 by Charli XCX, I was born in 1999 so when I listen to the song, I joke to myself about how much easier life was as a baby. Plus it’s super catchy

4)one song that you would dedicate to your best friend and/or your family?

If We Have Each Other by Alec Benjamin, it’s in the title for this one

5) one song with a production (the sounds, the beat, the mood) you love?

Welcome to the Black Parade by My Chemical Romance, it’s just impossible not to get caught up in this song

6) one song with perfect, amazing, outstanding lyrics

“no brain, we’re saving BTS for #11. I must know other songs with amazing lyrics... oh, If I killed Someone For You! Dammit, already used Alec Benjamin!”

Losing My Religion by REM, I’ve loved this song for as long as I can remember and while it’s not on my main playlists, I still go back to it time and time again (the only song on this list my mum would approve of 😂)

Favourite line: Every whisper, every waking hour, I’m choosing my confessions

7) one song that you would recommend to anyone?

Ok I am gonna cheat slightly and use a BTS solo project

So Far Away by Agust D (Suga of BTS) whenever anyone wants a kpop recommendation, I immediately say this song (sorry BTS)

8) one song you don’t understand why you like so much but you do anyway?

I know why I like every song that I like, I just accept that I like weird things and I try and feign ignorance as to why I like it. I can guarantee that every song I like has something that catches my attention in the production somewhere and I can pinpoint it if I think about it

9) one song that you think people in general wouldn’t like but you do?

I don’t know about in general but I can tell you that my nan doesn’t like Bad Guy by Billie Eilish because “it’s just sounds”

10) one song people normally like and you don’t like or hate?

Dance Monkey by Tomes and I, this is the one song guaranteed to get me off a dance floor on a night-out. I hate it so much

11) one song you would call a masterpiece?

Right guys, I’ve seriously been holding this one in. Prepare yourselves. You wanted thoughts Lydia and here they are

Seriously I have no chill

Not only does this song perfectly encapsulate the feeling of missing someone so deeply plus the general feeling of winter and snow days with some of the best lyrics ever (“no darkness no season is eternal” PLUS EVERY OTHER GODDAMN LINE)...

But then in the final chorus the melody switches from a minor key to a major key. And you know what else changes in the last chorus? The lyrics. It goes from

“Snowflakes fall down

And get farther away little by little

...

And how many sleepless nights do I have to spend

...”

TO THIS WITH A KEY CHANGE

“Maybe it’s cherry blossoms

And this winter will be over

...

Wait a little bit, just a few more nights

...”

They switch the lyrics so they mirror each other (my favourite thing ever)

and the whole thing goes from being melancholic to incredibly uplifting

And don’t get me started on the music video, sorry ON but in this house, Spring Day will always wear the crown. I mean, look at it

I will never be over this and I will never shut up about how much I love this song.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

Anyway... moving on

12) one song you recently (last 30 days max) discovered and really liked it?

Rollercoaster by Chungha, I’d been listening to Gotta Go and Snapping for a while but I only just found this gem

13) one song you listen to to get pumped like you wanna tear down the fucking government or something?

Lion by (G)-IDLE because I am a lion and I am the queen

I’m tagging @salmonsdreams

Also @dory2812 if you come online, I need you to see this because I know you feel strongly about Spring Day as well

#I go off about spring day but the rest of the time I’m like #Tomorrow is my favourite BTS song fight me

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canumoveurseatup-no · 5 years

Text

I Wasn’t Ready

(Endgame Spoiler)

summary: parents teach you a lot of things, prepare you for a lot of thing to face in life... but what they don’t prepare you for is to be ready when it’s their time

word count: 3.9k

pairings: Tony Stark x Black!Daughter!Reader, Peter Parker x Black!Girlfriend!Reader

warnings: major character death, mentions of breakdowns, loss of a parent.

a/n: i’m still hurt. THIS IS KIND OF LIKE A LOOSE SEQUEL TO MY FIC “READY”

a/n pt.2: if you’re on the tag list please comment and reblog or you will be removed :)

——————

“You’re going to stick around forever right, dada?”

Tony loved holding your tiny little body in his arms. You were so sweet and affectionate, you were a blessing, you gave him meaning, purpose.

“Forever and ever,”

———

It wasn’t supposed to be him... Got dammit it wasn’t supposed to be him.

You and Steve smiled at each other when Thanos’ army began to disintegrate into nothing just like he had done to your people five years ago. Good riddance.

It took a lot to get here, it wasn’t easy. This was your one chance to win and you all won.

But what did it cost?

Everything...

Your smile dropped when you saw your dad holding his hand up with the gauntlet on.

“Steve,” whispering, you didn’t want it to be true, it’s not real, you were supposed to win, all of you were supposed to win!

Steve runs over to Tony and everyone gathers around, everyone gets close- but you can’t, because he’s gonna be okay, everyone is begging like something is wrong but he’s gonna be okay! Right?

“Mr. Stark... can you hear me? It’s me, Peter, we won, you did it!! Tony- I’m sorry,”

You could only make out bits and pieces of what he was saying because the rush of blood filled your ears. Kind of like that sound when you put a shell up to your ear but amplified x100. You just stood there numb while Pepper said they were gonna be okay... you all were gonna be okay.. you had to be.

“You can rest now,”

That’s when you knew it was real.

You didn’t break down, o-or cry, no. You just stood there staring at your father’s grey face.

You stare at his arc reactor as it goes out and just like that the light in you was gone, for good.

His lifeless eyes were staring at you and you couldn’t look away. Maybe Thor could restart it like he did when you all went back in time? There had to be another way.

He said he would stick around forever and ever! He never lies to you! He has never lied to you a day in his life. He’s not really gone. You all are gonna go back home and someone is gonna fix him up. Or maybe he’s gonna do a dramatic gasp and come back like they always did in the movies..

But this wasn’t like the movies. He never woke up. He never got fixed up, he never did that cliche dramatic gasp, no.

His lifeless eyes just continued to stare at you and you couldn’t look away.

“Y/N-, Y/N?, Babe, we gotta go”

Peter shook your shoulder and you snap out of it and look at him, confused, tilting your head. You never got the chance to appreciate the fact that he was back. Five years of mourning and now he’s here.

“Hi, Peter, I missed you” you give a smile that worried him.

How can a smile worry someone? It’s a smile... except this one was empty, like a humanoid robot trying it’s best to replicate human emotion.

“Y/N, we gotta go,”

“Where are we going, Peter?,”

Your voice was laced with tender sweetness and while it would have made anyone happy to hear it, everyone turned to you with worry in their eyes.

How were you smiling? How were you being so sweet in this moment after your father just died in front of you?

“We’re going home,” he tugged on your hand and you reluctantly followed.

“But this is home,”

“It’s not home, Y/N!,” he turned to you in a rage but you kept your smile on your face. You had to smile or else you’d crack.

“Peter,” Pepper rested her hand on his shoulder and shook her head, “Y/N, sweetie we gotta go,”

Pepper took your hand and guided you through the portal Strange made. You saw Thor pick up your dad and you knew you wouldn’t be the same, without him there isn’t a home.

———

“Everyone wishes for a happy ending,”

You saw the hologram of your father sitting down in front of you and so bad you wanted to rush out and hug him but you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself.

Morgan was curled up into her mother and so bad you wanted to console her but you couldn’t even do that for yourself. You stood in the back of the living room and stared out the window. You just wanted to leave. You couldn’t stay here anymore, too many reminders of him, you wouldn’t be happy here, no.

You silently backed away and down the hall to your room, you scanned the space and smiled at everything. On your bookshelf where was a an old bottle cap from your dad’s favorite root beer. You’ll never forget that day on the beach where he cracked one open and threw the bottle cap on the ground-

————

“Dada! You’re not supposed to litter!,” your tiny finger pointed at him and he held his hands up in surrender

“You know what- you’re right, munchkin. I won’t do it again,”

He picked up the bottle cap and and placed it in your hand.

“You keep it. Keep it as a token that little angels like you stand up against big doofuses like me who liter,”

“You’re not a doofus dada,” you climb in his lap while he sits under the umbrella and lounges. It was so nice out and he had his nose covered in sunscreen, “You just don’t think about certain things. But I love you anyway”

“I love you more,”

———

Then there’s the teddy bear he got you when everyone in your class had a Valentine except for you

———

“For a special girl on a special day,”

You cried, hard. Tony showed up to your class with a heart box of chocolates, and a mini teddy bear, those were your favorite.

Your eyes lit up and Tony lived for that day, the smile on your face, the twinkle in your eyes, it was one of the best days of his life.

“Thank you, thank you, th-hank you!!,” you jumped for joy and wrapped your little arms around his legs and cried

“This is so much better than those stupid lollipops everyone got from their valentine!,” You sniffles and held the teddy bear tight, kissing it over and over. You waved the heart of chocolates around in the air and jumped, “You’re the best valentine ever, dada!,”

“No, you’re the best,” he squated down to your level and booped your nose, kissing your little forehead and smiling back at you, “After school we’re gonna go to that fancy restaurant. I have a date,”

“With whoooo?,” you stomped your foot and placed your hands on your hips awaiting an answer

“You,” he kissed your forehead before getting ready to leave so you could get back to instruction, “Doofus junior”

You kissed his cheek and gave him a thumbs up, “You got it doofus senior!,”

———

“Y/N?,”

You turn around at the intruding voice and set the teddy bear down and walk towards Peter and your sister.

“What’s up?,” you bend down to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear

“Mommy told me to come and save you,” she placed your hand on your cheek and you backed away, “She said time to eat a little,”

“Tell her I’ll be down in a bit okay, Morgy?,”

She nodded and rushed back down the hall. You ignored Peter and go back to your trip down memory lane. You wondered what you could take with you, but everything related to him and you just wanted to forget, as bad as that sounds. You wanted to forget.

“Y/N, everyone is worried,”

You feel Peter’s hand on your waist and you turn around, placing one on his cheek.

“But why? I’m fine,”

As long as you kept telling yourself that, you would be. If you kept pretending, it would eventually become a truth right? Fake it til you make it.

That’s what you told yourself. Just keep pretending, keep faking but you were terrified you’d be faking forever.

“You haven’t shown an ounce of emotion since... since,”

“Since he died,”

Peter wished he could wipe that smile off your face. How are you smiling saying that?

“Just say it, Peter. Since he died..” you shrug and step around him to sit on your bed and look at your picture together with him, years ago before all of this mess happened. Right after the wedding.

“You haven’t shown an ounce of emotion since he died. We know you’re hurting, Y/N. That was your father, you can be emotional”

“Dad wouldn’t want me to cry. So I’m not. There’s no reason to cry. I half expected this to happen with how selfless he always was,” you clear your throat at the first feeling of it tightening, you wouldn’t do this, you wouldn’t break down.

“Y/N, your dad would want you to feel any emotion about this rather than hiding it,”

“You don’t know anything!,”

You didn’t mean to snap. It’s just, for days, up until now everyone has been asking you if you’re okay and that Tony would want you to feel this, do that yadda yadda yadda, you just wanted it to STOP!

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Peter swallows thickly and shakes his head, “I know him enough to know he wouldn’t want you to bottle things up like this-“

“I’m not bottling anything up,”

“But regardless-,” Peter held his hand up, not wanting to listen to you acting like none of what he was saying wasn’t the truth, “-I’m going to be there for you whenever you’re ready,”

The problem with that was you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be ready. No one is ever really to mourn their parents.

No one.

———

It’s officially been five months since you’ve moved out and five months since the incident and you couldn’t have been happier.

You cut out meat, simply to avoid the topic or a place involving cheeseburgers.

You’d visit the new compound and Pepper and Morgan at the cabin every few weeks, making sure to keep your eyes straight in avoidance of anything that could remind you of anything involving your dad.

You didn’t watch TV, you got a new wardrobe, you changed your major, worked your ass off- all to avoid the topic or thought of him. But it didn’t help much when everyone wanted to have their bi-weekly family dinner. You’ve avoided them as much as you could up until now. Peter had begged and wouldn’t leave you alone until you said yes.

Your relationship was on the rocks but you pushed it to the back burner like you always with did everything else. Ever since that day, you’ve turned all your emotions off and it’s concerned Peter to a great length as it out a strain on your relationship. You go about your days as if nothing happened, as if the fight never happened with ugly results.

You lost Nat and Tony but you acted as if you didn’t have anyone to mourn because you acted like they were still here... as if they were on a vacation and you’d see them again soon.

“Pepper and Morgan miss you,” he cleared his throat and straightened himself up in his seat as he drove to the new compound.

He’d taken it upon himself to be there for them as much as possible seeing as you isolated yourself. They all understood why but it didn’t make it suck any less.

“I’m not sure why, I visit them when I can,” you had drowned yourself in work, taking up more hours just to keep your mind from wandering.

“That’s your sister and step mother, Y/N. They went from seeing you everyday to barely twice a month. Tony wouldn’t want-,”

“Anyway-,” you cut him off, “I got a promotion at work,” smiling, you fiddle with a frayed thread of your jacket.

“I could imagine so, all you do is work,” you took after your dad, but Peter didn’t want to say that, knowing him being Tony up would only detonate the bomb that was you.

“It’s fun, I like working. Keeps my hands busy. School is good too, I’m passing with flying colors,”

Of course you were. You barely slept until all your work was done. You had to work yourself until exhaustion forced your body to shut down and at that point it was fine because you were so tired you couldn’t dream, which meant dreams of him didn’t plague you like they did at first.

Peter pulled up to the compound and you stared at the new layout, it had more pops of color than the plain whites and greys that it had before. You hesitated to get out but the knock on your window made you flinch.

“Y/N!!,” Morgan opened your door and smiled up at you in adoration. She missed her big sister. You send her a warm smile back and unbuckle your seatbelt before grabbing the pan of baked Mac and cheese and getting out.

“Hi, Morgy,” you kiss her forehead and give Peter the pan as she drags you inside.

“Everyone missed you!,” she squealed as she pulled you inside to find everyone moving around the kitchen to wash their hands and make their plates.

You didn’t say anything in response. You just squeezed her hand and greeted everyone. Seeing the underlying pity in their eyes made your stomach stir. It didn’t sit well with you. You avoided any questions about how you were doing.

“Hey sweetie,” Pepper kissed your cheek and Peter came behind to hand her the pan so she could set it on the stove to keep it warmed up.

“Hey, what are we having?,” you avoid her eyes and look around at the food, scowling at the main course, thankful you avoided meat, knowing Tony used to make this for you two all the time.

“Well I made you something different since you changed your diet. You mentioned an eggplant Parmesan recipe so I tried that. Sam likes it so I know it’s good,” she sounded happy but it had an edge to it, as if she was afraid to tip you over like a hot pot of water.

“I’m sure it’s going to be great, thank you,” you patted her hand gratefully before washing yours and making your own plate and sitting down. Steve was here and it was weird to see him in such a different light. He still had a glimmer of life in his eyes but... his skin was so dull and freckled with age spots- you missed the old.. young? Steve.

Dinner went about how any dinner would go. Talk of catching up and you made sure to think about other things, knowing the conversation would end somewhere you didn’t want it.

You noticed the two empty chairs at the table and it angered you that they kept them here. Why not just fucking take them away? Was it some sick joke?

“Y/N, me and mommy are going to a memorial for daddy tomorrow, you want to come?,” Morgan looked at you hopefully and your ears began ringing so loud that you didn’t hear Pepper scold Morgan for bringing it up.

Peter’s hand wraps around yours but you barely feel it as you stare off into space and try your best to think about other things so the dam behind your eyes didn’t break.

“Y/N!,”

Your mind goes haywire as every single memory you had with him flooded your mind.

The bottle cap from the beach.

The Valentine’s Day bear.

Your favorite bedtime story.

Your favorite stay at home meal.

Doofus junior and doofus senior.

Sitting on the couch one night as you two stayed up late and you sat in his lap watching TV and the conversation you two had-

“You’re going to stick around forever right, dada?”

“Forever and ever,”

That was it. It’s like you’re sucked through a tunnel of memories back into the present moment and the first thing you hear when you come back is your own strangled sobs.

“He lied!,” you gasped and clenched your eyes shut, “He lied to me!!,”

You’re looking around looking for any source of air because now you’re just choking. It feels like your emotions have you in a choke hold and you can’t breathe. Like you’re wearing a necklace of thorns that are stabbing you.

You stumbled over your own feet trying to get outside, going right out to the spot where he went away... the day he lied to you for the first time.

“You lied! You fucking lied, you’re such a liar!,”

Your fists pound the ground and your screaming with all your might. You’re pulling at the grass and just screaming at the spot until you feel someone’s arms wrapping around you trying to pull you away.

“I wasn’t ready for him to go! No, not yet!”

You fight against the hold on you until you knock both of you on your butts onto the ground.

Everyone else is standing by watching you finally let out everything you’ve been holding in. It was sad how it happened, but this needed to happen. It wasn’t pretty but it had to happen.

“It’s not fair! I wasn’t ready! I- I can’t, I can’t do this anymore, I can’t,”

The breaking of your voice echoed through the air as you screamed. It felt like you were dying all over again and it was painful.

Peter looked over to everyone as he held you, he hated to see this, he hated the fact that for months you went on like nothing happened and you finally cracked. He hated feeling you claw helplessly at his skin as sobs wracked your body. But he knew this would happen eventually.

“I didn’t mean to make her sad,” Morgan looked up at Pepper but she just bent down and reassured her

“Honestly... this needed to happen. She’s not mad at you, no one is. She’s probably going to thank you later,”

Morgan still knew she caused this and didn’t quite understand why it needed to happen so she just hugged her mommy’s leg and hid until Pepper forced everyone back inside so Peter could tend to you.

“I know this hurts. I know this hurts,” Peter’s voice betrayed him as it cracked but he swallowed it down and kept a staring voice, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I wish I could take your pain away. I wish I could take back all of this so it wasn’t real. I wish I could say we’d wake up and it all be a nightmare but babe, I can’t,”

He sounded defeated in himself so he could only imagine how you felt.

“He said he would stick around for forever and ever,” you shake your head and stare at the spot your eyes burn more as fresh tears come to the surface, “He lied to me”

“It’s not like he meant to,”

You felt your body swaying as Peter started to rock you back and forth.

“I know...” sighing, you sit up and look at Peter in his eyes and frown, “This was our chance to be better. I know I somehow came back sooner than all of you but I was so willing to keep living and keep fighting to be better but I lost him, Peter. I lost my dad! How am I ever going to be okay? How can I ever get better?”

“We can’t give up, Y/N. He wouldn’t want you to surrender again. He did what he did so everyone could live the life they needed even if he wasn’t here to see it... Nat too,”

———

You stirred awake in a spare room of the compound and found the bed empty.

You roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling, feel the dull throbbing of your head from your episode a few hours ago.

“Glad to see you’re awake, doofus junior,”

You felt the air leave your body at the sound of his voice.

“It’s not real. It’s not real,” you figured you’ve come to terms that he was actually gone but your mind wanted to play tricks on you. Now is not the time.

“It’s real, kiddo,”

You sit up in a flash and see him standing at the foot of the bed with a smug smirk on his face.

“Dad,” your face twists as you begin crying, “Please don’t play a trick. Please don’t let this be a sick joke,” you were shaking your head, this wasn’t real, this was a dream.

“I’m not here physically but, I think this will do, don’t you think?,”

You jump out of the bed, ready to wrap your arms around him until you fall through him.

“I said I wasn’t here physically,” he states matter-of-factor.

“H-how? How are you talking to me? Dad, I say them- I saw you-,”

“It’s a reconstruction of my mind... my essence. I always had this as a back up plan in case my body gave out,”

You were about to puke everywhere.

“Why didn’t you come sooner?,”

“I needed a trigger- you, were the trigger. I figured you all were going to be okay but once you went off the deep end I knew it was time for me to wake up,”

You would slap him if you could. He could have at least let you know this plan, but no.

“You should have told me! I- I lived in a fantasy world for months to avoid the fact that you’re really gone. How could I ever be okay?! Were you okay when I got dusted, dad?!,”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and shook his head, “I know I prepared you to face a lot of things in life... but one thing I didn’t prepare you for was the day it was my time and I’m sorry,”

You turned your back to him, not wanting him to see you cry. You already made a scene in the first place, you couldn’t handle making another one.

“I didn’t want to. I really didn’t, Y/N, believe me. I finally had the family I wanted- I had you, my first born, I got married and had another daughter and I was finally content... but I guess the only way I could rest was to eternally rest,”

“It’s not fair,” you croaked, “It shouldn’t have been you. It shouldn’t have been Nat. It shouldn’t have been anyone, it’s not fair. I wasn’t ready for any of this,” you turn around and realize how real he looks, as if he never left except you couldn’t hug him like you wanted, you couldn’t hug him like you needed.

“I know it’s not fair. But I’m here. I know it’s not like how you wanted, but I’m here,”

“I just want to hug you, dad. I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry for not saying goodbye, I’m sorry for not acknowledging your death but I couldn’t,”

Tony shook his head and smiled, “I can’t blame you. You’re my kid,”

You two talked all night until the sun came up, there was talk of getting him in a boy kind of like Vision so he could be here, “I don’t want to sleep,”

He knew you barely got any shut eye since everything happened.

“I’m still going to be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere. I’m sticking around,”

“Forever and ever?”

“Forever and ever,”

-----------

I had to break my heart a little bit. I couldn’t help it.

please comment and reblog!

tags- @mbaku-babygirl @babybubastis @vozit @blackreaders-assemble @yournonlocalpoc @retroxvailles @mokacoconut @marvclheaux @dumbchick @warmchick @spideys-wife @xye-weirdo @m00nlightdelights @micki-smiles @veryhellshdia @never-enough-time-for-sleep @here-for-your-bullshit @valynsia @valkyriesnymph @honeynmlk @chonisberonica @valentinevirgo @crawlingnightmares @hisxblackxqueen

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sandwyrm · 4 years

Text

TL;DR melancholic rant on why I took the writing in WoW so badly this year just to get it all out and finish my fucking five stages of grief spin routine.

Gonna read more it, it’s probably gonna end up super long and unedited really so don’t feel obligated to read lol

I am one of those losers that has been with Warcraft for the whole 25 years. I watched the company grow from “check out this FULL GAME coming with this gaming magazine! it’s called Warcraft: Orcs and Humans!” to being the biggest MMO around and celebrating 25 years while the world is burning. And when I was younger, it was perfect. It had everything. Nice gameplay, cool and funny voices, decent graphics for its time, cool models, and it started having a story too. Perf!

I never got along well with my brother, but by the gods the only fond memories I have of him are centered around Warcraft. Watching him play WC1. Him teaching me to play WC2. Me playing WC3. Him leaving our abusive home to hide out in internet cafes, and my parents sending me to look for him, and us just staying in there for hours, me watching him play WC3. Fond memories of us getting our two toaster computers hooked up for LAN to play WC over it.

Then WoW came, and my brother first got us an US account - it was impossible to play cross-region back then, our lag was immense, in the thousand of ms on a good day. So then an EU account. First rolled on Sylvanas, one of the biggest servers back then, then on Twisting Nether. I would skip school just so I could play because my toaster wouldn’t run it, only my brother’s computer, so when he was at work I’d be skipping high school playing WoW (I did fine, don’t worry). I invested so much time into my vanilla account it’s surreal. I wouldn’t be shocked if I found out it has more /played than the rest of my life in the game. I met my ex on TN. I still have my vanilla account and characters on EU TN. The relationship with my ex doesn’t matter, it was abusive, toxic, I was a dumb optimist that stayed in it, doesn’t matter. He tried to get me to stop playing WoW. I still remember many instances when he went off on me for seeing me online, it’s 5 years since I broke up with him and like 8 since I stopped playing WoW with him and my heart still skips a beat when I get a whisper or hear the guild member login sound. It was that bad. He sure did his best to make me play the game only with him, “because he didn’t trust me and I would cheat on him through the game” - guys, if any of you are in this boat, please please please, put your foot down or break up. Your interests should be sacred and respected, as should be your entire person. But I digress.

Instead of breaking up, I went the mature route of buying a US license, and playing it while he was at work or I was visiting my parents. I rolled on a RP server for the first time ever, and it was probably the best decision of my life, so, gotta thank my abusive ex for that. I met many wonderful people, have many wonderful things on that account, and another 7 years of wonderful things on my EU account.

Then, the community itself. I hate it. Believe me, I hate the playerbase and fanbase of WoW with a burning passion. But at the same time, I have met amazing, wonderful, intelligent, friendly people I love and respect and wish the best for (if you’re reading this you’re part of this, yes, don’t let your brain trick you into thinking you’re a horrible person lol). This is another fun arc. I started in the cringe culture. OCs are lame, who makes OCs lol. Then I became, I make OCs and cringe culture can die. Same with characters, but it’s different there. Oh, so different.

See, I began by loving the obvious characters - Thrall, Jaina, Sylvanas, Tyrande, Malf, the works. I didn’t even like Garrosh much as his arc was unfolding - between the thing with my ex, quitting Cataclysm, changing regions and restarting, I didn’t really have a chance to dwell into him fully. He became a villain and I was all yeah okay. Iguess.jpg. I even wanted him out of the story at his peak edgelord moments because I liked Anduin more obviously. WoD was something I did not process almost at all because I was high on a cocktail of pain meds and post-partum depression and sleep deprivation. Legion was pointless bullcrap in my eyes on the main story factor, and I sort of enjoyed BFA until the whole Saurfang sucks Sylvanas fucks deal in the writer dept and fandom.

Deciding to finally read the novels I had missed out on, and reading War Crimes, was what propelled me into “hahahahahah these idiots actually acquitted Garrosh of crimes in this book? Are they for fucking real?” and actually realizing the entire arc was a complete mess, BFA is a mess, the writer dept is a mess, and suddenly, I had no footing to stand anymore. A spit in the face, and then it overlapped the Saurfang hErOiC sAcRiFiCe special edition. I sort of had a breakdown and I hid it behind “well Saurfang was hot lol now I don’t have my orc grandpa anymore” but it was deeper than that.

See, when we get into a setting, we have this selfish expectation that it will grow with us. That it will mature with us. Keep up with us. That we will always enjoy this setting, definitely not as starry eyed as we did as children, but that it will always be good. ATLA is a great example. Dragonlance is still good. Star Wars may be hammy and have tons of issues now as an adult, but it’s still good. But Warcraft was my lifeblood for 25 years. And to know that not only it did not grow with me, but it regressed beyond belief, destroyed me in a strange sense. Kind of like losing a friend, a family member. They didn’t just kill Saurfang for me, the setting died with him as far as I’m concerned. Because he was the last bastion of what interested me in it.

I am that weirdo that loves, loves, war movies and books. I devour them. That was part of my downfall, and the writers and fanbase of WoW so often make it feel like it is, somehow, MY FAULT (just like Garrosh getting backstabbed repeatedly was his fault I guess?) It feels like it’s my fault that I care about weird things like the Geneva Conventions, and the Paris Conventions, and so on and so forth. It feels like I’m the idiot for knowing basic military tactics and conventions. It feels like I’m the idiot for wanting WARcraft to, at all, even a little bit, bear any resemblance to real wars, to real military tactics, to genuine war stories with genuinely well written soldiers. In my folly and pride, I forgot it’s first and foremost, a fantasy setting, a simplistic one at that.

It insulted me these guys can’t even google what consists a war crime. It insults me to my core these guys paint the ONE (1) character who goes all “hey maybe.... weird concept but..... maybe not kill kids, or torture prisoners, or kill unarmed soldiers and civilians. Maybe show COMPASSION”, that this guy had to go. It also insults me the only other character who listened to him - Garrosh, yes - was written as the setting’s biggest fucking villain to this day, and it needed some real fucking propaganda and twisting of the OBJECTIVE narrative to get that to pass, and yet it successfully passed by so many, including myself years ago as it unfolded.

At this point, it’s insulting to see the same themes - mentally unstable or hurt people deserve to suffer and die, there is no happiness because happiness and happy endings are for toddlers, we are just edgelords jacking off to our self inserts, world isn’t fair because real world isn’t fair anyway kiddo grow up, and what the fuck is honor even we just make it up no? Also objective facts and lore? Fuck that who cares lmao.

Here’s the deal.

War stories NEED hope. I can handle watching a whole regimen be killed in brutal ways in war, because REAL war stories always leave you SOMETHING at the end that was worth the whole pain. In a REAL war story, perhaps Saurfang would have still committed suicide by proxy in front of everyone, but people around him would have actually then gone and maybe fucking went “you know what he was correct. Let’s write the Geneva Conventions.” In a REAL war story, it would have been handled so much better. And perhaps, in a REAL war story, he would have survived. With so much loss, so much pain, and yet - with HOPE. Hope, for HIMSELF, for the future. Not the generic bullshit hOpE they tried to write into him. yOu CaNt KiLL hOpE....... Yes, you can. You fucking can. By killing off the last fucking character in the setting that cared about actual military honor (not just the buzzword it is in this fandom and setting), the last fucking character that cared about tomorrow, about fighting for a better world. That’s how you kill hope. And in my eyes, they did so damn well.

Because I don’t want to sit around and be insulted for another 25 years that I’m the only idiot who expects tactics, honor, a good outcome, a hopeful ending. Because I have reached the point I hate being in this game only to hear sTrEnGtH aNd hOnOr when it literally means nothing. Because I reached a point I hate watching the double standards they apply to their precious babes while the minor characters get thrown under the bus for way less. Because I reached a point where the fandom trying to go all “but Alex, someone has to set a precedent for a war crime trial!” means jack shit when nobody ELSE has been tried for any war crimes AFTER Garrosh (which would’ve been PEACHY by the fucking way). Because I got to a point Blizzcon gave me goddamn anxiety every time someone IMed me to tell me an announcement, and I got to a point I blacklisted half the tags on tumblr because I walk in to read what my friends have been up to and some damn Discourse makes its way to my dash, only for me to find myself feeling stupid and in the wrong for liking Saurfang. Not even Garrosh, which I would admit is Problematic(tm) but goddamn Saurfang. Leave it to this setting and fandom for making me feel stupid and idiotic and in the wrong for loving the goddamn war movie protagonist.

And at the end of it all, after much debate, I don’t think I will quit the setting. Writers don’t care, about their lore, about their characters, about us. The other fans don’t care who they hurt with their edgy rhetoric, I sure as fuck didn’t when I was younger and dumber myself. I’m sure eventually the wound will close completely and I’ll dissociate again from the story and fanbase and enjoy the gameplay and my very wonderful friends. First step in that, just for me, is to not buy Shadowlands. The xpack after, perhaps, it depends. But just out of spite, I will be that one idiot who has a sub running but doesn’t give a +1 sale on Shadowlands. Just for myself.

Second step...? Who knows.... Who the hell knows what tomorrow will bring... This has indeed hurt worse than anything in my life. I have been going through the stages of grief - jokingly or seriously - since 8.2.5 now (and a whole load of 5 months of pure anger before that processing Garrosh’s arc from an objective standpoint). I cried more over the death of Saurfang (and the setting) than over my ex of 10 years leaving me as a single mom, or over all my other relationships combined. I’m not ashamed to admit that even if it’s cRiNgY. Like I said, it wasn’t just the death of one fictional character, but the death of a setting I loved and grew up with. The final acceptance that there is nothing left for me in the setting that shaped my interests, art, writing, and all that. That my interests have gone too far in other directions - optimism, actual war stories, good stories, being a mature individual, acknowledging mentally ill or divergent characters and not making excuses for author darlings. It’s a weird thing... Like the final acceptance that I have lost what could qualify as a dear friend or family member. While they are still alive and interacting with me daily. Like a breakup. But way worse. It is a pain I wish on noone honestly. But I do hope against hope, like an idiot, that other settings, other writers, future generations of writers, will do better. I know they won’t. But I’ll take my sliver of hope.

And if you read this far, I do genuinely hope the game - this game, any other interests - will keep bringing joy to you. And also, help yourself to a cookie. Thanks <3 I wish you a good day/weekend.

#salt #negativity

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