#i can’t see colours anymore but i don’t care i want to be rid of this

[blargberries]

azula ⚡️⚡️⚡️

to complete the avatar postcard series 💙

#azula #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #i can’t see colours anymore but i don’t care i want to be rid of this #myart #myart:avatar

[emsgwenstan]

Personal or professional?

Chap 1 | chap 2 | chap 3

Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) named reader.

Words: 2k

Warnings: bodily issues, swearing.

Note: imma b honest I’m filling In for the parts I want to write. I’m not there yet. Just know there will be a few things coming within the next few chapters! Xx

———

Just as I was thinking about how ridiculously bold it was for me to put my number on that cup, I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket once I returned home.

‘Meet me at the weathervane in your lunch break tomorrow?~Larissa’

My eyes went wide as I re-read the message over and over until I realise that she can see if I’ve viewed it, I quickly replied.

‘Sure, 12:30? Are you sure you have time?’

Immediately it was seen and I waited in anticipation once the three little dots popped up.

‘That’s fine, even if I don’t I will always make time darling.”

I didn’t know exactly what to reply, so I just turned off my phone and threw it on my bed, I could feel my face flushing at the thought of her. I stripped off and got ready for a shower, the chill of the room raising goosebumps along my skin, the tile floor of the bathroom freezing the soles of my feet, stepping in, I let out a hum at the hot water encapsulating my body finally letting myself relax against the wall, ridding myself of the day, not that it was so bad.

Once out, dried off and dressed, I jump into bed not bothering with dinner, being far to exhausted to cook or order anything, I snuggle into my thick duvet and flick on the tv to half watch and listen to another true crime story. It isn’t always ideal to watch this stuff when I live alone, especially as a woman, but there’s something oddly calming about it, even if I get slightly paranoid. After a while I fell asleep at around 8:00pm, but woke at around 12 to turn the tv off.

———

The next morning I woke up earlier than usual to perfect my simple make up, applying a layer of foundation and mascara, the smallest bit of matte pink lipstick and to be sure to have every hair on my head in place held in a slicked back ponytail. ‘I just hope this will last for at least 8 hours, the next 4 don’t matter.’ I thought.

Throwing on my black jeans and fluoro pink work shirt, as well as a baggy pink and black work wear jacket, I glance at myself in the floor length mirror, every time I do I see nothing I like, nothing pretty, nothing special, I feel like I must be such a curiosity to other people, my job, my height, my weight, my strange mix of masculinity and femininity, I know I’m not skinny or thin but I’m not that big either, anymore at least. The stretch marks on my stomach, thighs and breasts are the things I try so hard to cover up. I can’t help but wonder why anyone would want to be with or associate around someone like me, even if I personally don’t discriminate against what people look like. That also brings me to ponder why Larissa asked to have lunch with me today.

I think my collar bone length, warm blond hair is probably the only thing I change often or really take care of, I try to do my nails and keep them clean and presentable, always painted in a nude pink, which is ironic considering i don’t actually like the colour. I change the studs in all of my piercings, rotating the gold from small hoops to diamonds. My hands are scared and calloused from 22 years of working with rough materials as well as my legs and forearms, I guess I’ve no need to be jealous or overthink about others body’s or physique’s I’m a grown woman after all, but the insecurity is always at the forefront of my mind.

After traipsing out of the house, I finally made it into work at 5am, turning on all the lights and compressors and the radio I listen to until 9, it goes off once my boss turns up. “No music in the factory Violet.” He’d say, which is bullshit, it’s so fucking boring without it. Walking into the shop’s kitchenette, I flick on the kettle to make my morning tea in a travel cup and tap my fingers on the bench in waiting. It’s already freezing today, the cold seeping through my layers of clothing and apparently the concrete walls, yesterday was warm enough to wear shorts and go without a jumper.

Consulting with my boss about the order needing to be placed for the cupboards going to nevermore was nauseating, It took a lot longer than usual because of all the questions he asked about yesterday afternoon. “So how was going to the school for strange kids yesterday?” He asked sarcastically, not looking up from his computer. “Their not strange, their just different to you. And it was fine, obviously got all the information we need.” I said annoyed. “Right.” After a long pause he spoke again. “Miss Weems seemed to enjoy your presence, she didn’t shut up about the stuff you showed her.” I was perplexed and rolled my eyes. “Well at least someone appreciates it.” I said under my breath looking down at my thighs picking bits of lint and sawdust off the material. He was quiet after that.

12:15 rolled around, I grabbed the keys to my personal car and popped back into his office to tell him I’m going on break, it was so nice on the short walk in the sun. I jumped in my black Mercedes sports car and made my way down the street, turning a few corners I parked outside the wethervane and locked the car before entering the cafe. Larissa wasn’t there yet, so I took a seat in a booth next to the large window with my back turned to the door.

Staring out the glass and watching the towns people walk about, some in tandem with each other holding hands, some parents with young children or strollers, a few elderly people walking in groups giving the impression of being friends for years going for a walk with their wife’s arms wrapped around there husbands. One in particular caught my attention, a young man who looks to be in his early 20s exiting the florist bearing a bunch of white roses, his demeanour riddled with nerves, he sat at a park bench close to the other side of the road, pulling out a little black box, he observed it for a moment before snapping it shut, than stood smoothing down his hair and blazer before walking away. A small smile crept on my face hoping all goes well for his next obvious destination, but it quickly faded in a realisation, which I wish to forget.

A hand on my shoulder ripped me out of my mind, turning my head around I see her. Larissa. A huge grin took over my face clearly out doing her small smile. “Afternoon violet.” She greeted. “Hi.” I responded sounding so high pitched I internally cringe at myself. Larissa placed her purse on the surprisingly unsticky table and takes a seat in front of me. “How are you darling.” She asked removing a black leather glove. “I’m alright, not particularly busy today which is pretty good but that just means the day will drag a lot longer, better now I’m here with you though.” I said, staring at her beautifully red painted nails. “Oh that’s horrible, you must get lonely in there by yourself no?” She stated. “It’s nice, but sometimes I wish I had someone to talk to. Don’t you get lonely? Being in your office?” I asked wondering why she’d worry about me when I’m sure she’s in the same position. “Not at all, I have teachers, students, parents, groundskeepers and just about every other kind of person in and out all day, sometimes it gets so frustrating I put a ‘do not disturb’ sign on my door just for at least five minutes of peace.” She exhaled slightly rolling her eyes at the thought, I nodded in understanding, chuckling softly at her annoyance.

Idle conversations flowed between the two of us before we were politely interrupted by a waiter handing over two menus. “What are you having.” I asked her. “A chicken Cesar salad. You?- Oh and I’m paying by the way… you bought me things yesterday.” She stated. “There’s no need really.” I answered. “I insist what would you like.” She pushed. “Probably just a grilled cheese.” I said. “No. Don’t think I don’t know that’s the cheapest thing here, get what you want sweetheart.” My pulse skipped then ran faster at her new term of endearment, I felt like I was melting from the inside out. “Fine I’ll just have the same as you please.” I settled, displaying a shy smile. I didn’t care about the food really, I don’t plan on letting her see me as a naive and difficult thing who can’t pay for myself or play her as a fool, I guess that’s just what happens when you’re completely independent for a long period of time. “Are you sure? you can have anything.” She asked again. “Positive, thank you.” Larissa waved over the previous waiter and ordered for the both of us, we ate once our meals arrived and sat in comfortable silence.

Larissa did in fact pay, she left no room for argument and we both walked out together into the fresh, crisp air and warm sun. “Do you need to go back just yet?” She asked. “No I think having a break over half an hour would be fine considering how much overtime I do that I don’t get payed for.” I chuckled trying to come off lighthearted, but it sounded more bitter than I intended. “What do you mean? What are your allocated hours?” Larissa stoped the slow pace causing me to walk a little in front and turn around to face her concerns. “Allocated… 7:30 to 5, but I usually get to work around 5 and finish at 7.” I said furrowing my brows. “Why?” I ask. Larissa was silent for a moment. “So your telling me you work 12 to 13 hours every day? When your only supposed to be doing 9 and a half?” She asked incredulously. “Yes.” I said almost immediately realising that wouldn’t seem right or normal to anyone else who doesn’t know what it’s like to do my job. I laughed at her, not in a rude way but at her worry. “How do you do that!? You work almost 70 hours a week!” Her eyes growing widder with the facts she’s coming to know. “I’m fine. I manage.” I simply said turning to walk a bit more for her to follow, at this point there is no destination.

“You look gorgeous today, channel right?” I asked, pulling my hand out of my pocket to point at her outfit, a ploy for a change of subject. “Yes, thank you. How did you know that?” She asked. “Just like I know your heels are louboutins, your watch is Valentino, your bracelet it Cartier and your broach is probably the hardest to guess I’m not quite sure about that one, but I know your necklace is personally made. Oh and your pearl earrings are vintage Tiffany & co.” I stated proudly hoping I wasn’t wrong. “You continue to surprise me Violet. First your this strong independent woman who can build an entire house and the interior with you bare hands and now your a fashion expert, what else don’t I know?” She said with an amuse smile. “There is a lot you don’t know about me Larissa, but what ls the fun in letting you in on all my secrets just yet? Who knows, I could be very boring.” I giggled. She shook her head gently and placed her gloved hand on my arm. “You are the most interesting person I’ve been around for quite some time darling, I don’t believe you could ever be a bore.” At that i blushed furiously letting out a foggy exhale.

Larissa was the epitome of ethereal, the way her eyes look so piercing in the sunlight almost as if they were so blue they could be mistaken for white, her porcelain skin illuminated as well as her platinum hair. Right now her nose and cheeks are flushed red and her lips displaying the same shade she had painted on herself, I hoped anyway, their a little swollen due to the cold. “Hey, can I ask you a random question?” I asked timidly hoping it’s not to weird. “Of course you can.” She said. “Do you…ahhh, do you have…someone, like-.” I struggled to spit it out. “A girlfriend, boyfriend, husband, wife, partner?… no sweetheart.” She continued on, laughing at my shy state. “Right… that what I was trying to say, and how is that, wouldn’t you have plenty of people lined up for you? surely.” I exaggerated. “So your a flatterer to I see.” She gasped feigning herself from being to serious.

About two seconds later Larissa looked away and her attention was taken by the front of the Jericho book shop and Library, she moved so quickly to snatch my wrist and drag me in the direction of the entrance. “Woah, you could have just asked me to come with you.” I just about snorted. “I’m sorry come on I haven’t been in her for ages, please!” The sparkle in her eyes showing unwavering hope. “Of course I’ll come I love books to ya know.” I grinned. “Well that’s another thing I just learned about you.” She said holding the door open for me.

It was so warm and cozy inside, the smell of a vanilla candle that was placed next to the register and the scent of paper was almost nostalgic, I hadn’t been in here for a while either. Larissa ended up in-front of me and I don’t think she realised she held out her hand behind her for me to take. After mild contemplation I took it, Larissa immediately tightened her grip, pulling me along with her to a section she clearly has been down before. She let go of my hand a crouched to the wooden floor removing her gloves again so she could feel the spines of the books.

Larissa was in her element, completely enraptured in her own world. I let her be and scanned the shelves above her, taking an interest to one that was a royal blue colour with gold embossed lettering, I placed my palm on her shoulder to stabilise myself and stood on my tip toes to reach it, admiring for a moment before I could read the blurb, Larissa gasped in excitement. “Yes, I found it!” She exclaimed. “What is it?” I asked. “I hid this book almost a year ago because I didn’t want to buy it at the time.” She said looking up at me. ‘she’s so bloody adorable.’

I helped her off the floor and we moved back to the register. “So what do you have?” She asked. “Um I think it’s a book of poetry, I flicked through it and read one, I like it.” I said. “You should read me one.” She smiled. Before I could respond a little lady with grey hair and a long green cardigan came walking behind the counter from what I assumed was the ‘back’. “Oh Larissa! How are you dear!?” She said surprised. “Francis! I’m well how are you?” She responded, it would be silly to think they weren’t aquatinted. “I’m doing ok, finally got that hip replacement back in may, working like I’m a teenager again.” She said. I quietly chuckled. “That’s wonderful.” Larissa replied placing her book on the counter. “And who’s this lovely lady with you?” She asked. “Oh forgive me, violet this is Francis, fran, this is violet, she’s making the new classroom cupboards for nevermore.” Larissa was almost proud to be able to introduce you to someone. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I said holding out my hand for her to shake, instead she took ahold of my palm with one hand and placed her other on top. “Like wise dear. Your a hard worker I see.” She stated observing my hand. “Thank you?” I said unsure of how to respond.

Larissa stood to the side waiting for me to pay for my own book. “Oh this one’s good, perhaps you can read some to your girlfriend over there.” Francis said talking about the book and Larissa. My eyes were just about bulging out of my head at her words, I was rendered speechless. “Hush now Fran! I see your still cheeky as ever.” Larissa hissed. The elderly lady chortled at her with a shit eating grin. “Don’t you forget it. When you get old you tend not to hold your tongue.” She initially spoke to larissa than back to me. All I could do was stand there awkwardly, but praise her for not giving a fuck, I like her.

We exited the shop bidding the woman farewell and set off to back to our cars. “Sorry about that, I’ve known Francis since I was 14, she can be very brazen sometimes.” She said. “Don’t worry about it shes cute and hilarious… so you went to nevermore when you were at school?” I asked. “Yes, every weekend I’d go to the library part of the shop and sit for hours, than we’d exchange opinions on the books I’d read over a cup of tea.” She expressed clutching the book tighter to her chest. “That’s so sweet, I wish my childhood was that simple, I would have loved to have the freedom to Sit and read until I was to exhausted.” I said. “Well it wasn’t all that easy but I didn’t have to many friends to mingle with I suppose.” I felt a tinge of sadness at her confession, understanding what she means. “Nor did I, but I guess that’s why it’s so important to you now as headmistress right? To ensure all the kids are happy and safe?” I wondered. “Exactly.” She said pulling out her car keys while I simultaneously did the same. We both hit the unlock button to find we were parked right next to each other.

To our surprise we both had the same car, except hers was red. “Nice car.” I said. “Like wise.” She laughed. “Well I suppose this is goodbye.” Larissa said looking at me slightly saddened at the fact. “I suppose it is.” I retorted. Larissa stood peering into my eyes, her expression turned confused. “What?” I asked. “Your eyes…they’ve changed colour, I thought that yesterday, but now I’m sure.” She said hoping she didn’t sound to insane. “Yeah they do that, I don’t really know why, they go from blue, green, grey to blue grey to green blue, it’s weird but I find that when I’m tired my eyes are really blue and when I’m happy or focused they’re really green, almost like a mood ring.” I laughed. Larissa own eyes flickered between my own causing me to become short of breath. “It’s very interesting, very unique.” She said. “What are they now?” I whispered, Larissa seemed to be closer than I thought. “Green on the outside with a little bit of blue in the centre.” She matched my tone of voice. Closing my eyes I took a deep breath and tilted my head down before exhaling and returning the gaze.

“So when will I see you again? Apart from the obvious work reasons.” I asked. “Would Friday night be ok, I could take you out for dinner?… if your not interested then that’s ok we could-.” Yes yes yes yes yes. “No! I’d love to just text me with plans yeah?” I wished I didn’t seem to overzealous. “Really? Alright than I will see you Friday.” She said. “Of course I’ll see you than.” And only than I did something I wish I could take back, something so stupid, so unprofessional. I leaned in a little closer and kissed her cheek, not like it was hard or strained, not even a millisecond went by for me to not look at her after, I all but ran to my car and shoved the keys into the ignition and turned it on ripping the gear stick into reverse to get the hell out of there. I did spare her a glance and and idiotic wave before practically speeding away.

Larissa stood there on the footpath shocked, blushing like one of her students, she returned the wave and set to get in her own vehicle. Sitting in the drivers seat hands clamped to the steering wheel, she let out a chesty giggle and a smile reaching her eyes. It was Larissa’s turn to feel like a giddy little girl. On her way back go nevermore I was the only thing on Larissa’s mind, by the time she arrived through the gates it was just after 2 pm, she would spend the rest of the day in a haze hardly concentrating.

Later that night she dragged a chair in front of her fireplace with a blanket adorned over her lap with her new book in hand and a glass of wine placed on the floor next to her, a relaxing evening to go along with an eventful afternoon. I was much the same, unlike the previous night I had enough energy to make something for dinner while standing in the kitchen with my own book, reading passages from it whilst stirring the food on the stove.

the eyes

are portals to

different worlds

this is why

we shut them in

beautiful moments.

Let’s just say both of our dreams that night were of each other and the next morning consisted of thoughts for Fridays dinner.

———

Just wait for the dinner;)

@lex13cm @im-a-carnivorous-plant @barbarasstar @giogwensversion @sabraaabra

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #principle weems #wednesday #larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #gwenchrist(ie) #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

Fuck Buddies II

Warning: swearing, drinking

You throw back the shot of tequila, the familiar burn hitting the back of your throat. The music from the DJ booth is literally making your chest thump and there’s so many bodies pressed up around you that you’re not even sure where yours begins and ends. You can feel Rook and Sophie’s eyes on you and you know you’re worrying them but right now, you honestly couldn’t give a fuck. You just wanted to not care anymore. You wanted to be able to ignore Colson with the different women hanging off him. You wanted to be able to ignore the fact that they’re so attractive that it makes you feel like Shrek in comparison. You wanted to be so indifferent to what was happening that you could smile and give him a cheery thumbs up every time he looked your way. 

It’s not like you planned this sort of arrangement with Colson in advance. It just kind of happened one night. You were drunk and horny and he was there. It was hot as fuck and you were addicted but while you were seeing Colson in this whole new way, lying in your bed panting your way back to reality, he was getting dressed. Your whole epiphany was shattered and you were left lying there, confused and hurt. You scrubbed your body raw in the shower, trying to get rid of the dirty, disgusting feeling that plagued you. You scrubbed every spot his lips touched, every bit of skin he gently stroked. Every move that made you feel like this was more than it was. You couldn’t rid yourself of the embarrassment and the shame. What made it worse was that the next time you saw him, he acted the same as always, like nothing about what you did together affected him. That cut deeper than anything else.

“Hey, you’re kind of going really hard on those tequila shots!” Rook yells at you over the music. “Maybe you should take a little break?”

“I’m fine Rook, stop stressing!” You shrug him off and push through the crowd. 

You feel bad for snapping at Rook but you’re so sick of everyone seeing you as this fragile little girl who needs saving. You’ve been a perfectly fine, full-fledged adult, living alone in LA for the past 4 years, you don’t need anyone to hold your hand and even if you did, the one person you want to has his tongue rammed down the throat of some groupie. 

You find the smoking area outside and decide to hide out until all the alcohol in your system hits. You figure it shouldn’t take long, you’ve barely eaten all day and you had 2 cocktails before you got to the club. You thought celebrating Colson’s birthday would be fun. You’d get to hang out, drink, maybe do some dancing. Instead, you’re hiding and inhaling secondhand smoke from complete strangers. 

“Hey, can I bum a light?” A tall, ruggedly handsome man asks, sitting down next to you. An unlit cigarette hangs from his full rosey lips. He has an accent but your mind can’t exactly place it.

“Sorry, I don’t smoke,” you smile politely at him, trying to ignore his beautiful chocolate coloured eyes. 

“Then why is a beautiful woman like you sitting in the smoking area all by yourself?” He quirks an eyebrow at you and your insides quiver slightly. 

You know you don’t have to answer him. You think you should just tell him to leave you alone. You know you should stop sulking and go back inside with all of your friends but something about the way he watches you makes you want to stay. 

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m a reformed smoker and I just love the smell every now and again?” He chuckles at you and you want to hear that sound over and over again. 

“I would, if you weren’t sitting as far away from all the smokers as you are and if you actually looked like you wanted to be out here.”

“So, Mr Observant, why’d you ask me for a light?” It’s your turn to quirk an eyebrow at him. 

“I wanted to know what was making a beautiful woman, such as yourself, sit out here looking so miserable?”

You look at him and something about his kind and deep eyes makes you want to spill your guts almost immediately. You feel like you’ve seen him before, somewhere but you can’t quite place him. You don’t really want to get into specifics but it would be nice to have an objective party listen to the problem and possibly render a solution. 

“The guy I like barely even knows I exist and if I stay in there,” you nudge your chin towards the club, “I’ll have to sit there and watch as every woman throws herself at him.”

“Oh, I see,” he grimaces and you feel a little bad for the guy. He probably just thought he was going to be able to hit on some random chick and here she is spilling her pathetic love life to him. 

“Sorry, I probably should’ve just lied and said the music was too loud,” you mumble, fiddling with your finger nails like you always do when you’re uncomfortable. 

“No, it’s fine. I get that feeling completely. I’m just trying to think how I could help with your predicament?” 

You look up at the kind stranger and smile. The returning smile he gives you makes your skin erupt with goosebumps and your back straighten. It may be the tequila kicking in but this guy is hot! He’s tall, deep brown hair falls down across his forehead and he has the kindest, warmest eyes. You feel so comfortable talking to him that you almost forget why you came out here in the first place. 

You spot a bleach blonde mop of hair pushing through the crowd and you push your body as far back into the corner of the seating and your new friend spots exactly what you’re staring at. He grabs your chin and turns you to face him. His eyes are boring into your own with such intensity, your breath hitches in your throat. 

��Do you trust me?” he asks barely above a whisper. You can’t speak. All you can do is nod your head. 

He leans into you and presses his lips softly to yours. His lips are slightly parted and you can taste the vodka on his breath. The feeling of his lips on yours is so inviting that you find yourself immediately kissing him back. You run your fingers through his hair, latching onto the strands like they’re the only thing holding you to the earth. He moans softly into your mouth and your body shakes at the sound of his pleasure. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost forget you need to breathe. The aching in your lungs is the only thing that can make you pull away. You gasp as you try to catch your breath. You can’t help but chuckle at how freeing that felt. You look back to the door and the blonde hair has disappeared. You feel a ball begin to form in the pit of your stomach but you push the thought away. He started this.

“What was that?” you giggle, eyeing the handsome man beside you. The tequila has definitely hit your system now.

“I was just testing a theory,” he grins at you before pulling out a cigarette packet from his pocket.

“Oh yeah? And what theory was that?” you eye the cigarette dangling between those sweet lips and almost miss his answer.

“That whoever that guy is feels the same way about you as you feel about him.”

“And what have you concluded from your experiment?”

“That he’s desperately in love with you.”

You burst out laughing, physically holding your sides to stop them from splitting, you're laughing that hard. You have to gasp for breath as you start to calm down. It feels nice to relax and just laugh for once. Whenever you’re around Colson, you feel so on edge that you’re scared you may just fall off the precipice. You never feel like you can relax and just enjoy the moment. You like this feeling of not caring and you want to hold onto it forever but that’s not reality.

“I should go back to my friends but thank you for listening and for one of the best kisses of my life,” you stand and smile down at the man whose name you still don’t know. “I’m Y/N by the way.”

“Give me your phone,” he holds out his hand. You place your unlocked phone in the palm of his hand. He types away quickly before handing the phone back to you. “Call me if you ever want to do it again sometime.” 

With that, he stands and heads over to a group of guys standing on the other side of the smoking area. You stare after him for a few moments before turning your attention to your phone. He’s put his name and number in your phone and the name is jumping out at you like you should recognise it but you can’t for some reason. You head back to the nightclub and as you step in, someone grabs your arm and yanks you towards an emergency exit. You’re too drunk to resist the stranger and you stumble numbly behind them.

The door opens and you’re now standing in a poorly lit alleyway, a very pissed off Colson glaring at you. You’re not sure if it’s the unbelievable tension or the alcohol in your veins but you smile goofily at him. This just seems to piss him off more and he throws his beer bottle against the brick wall. You don’t flinch, you don’t even move as the glass shatters and beer spills everywhere.

“What the fuck Y/N?” he screams at you but you don’t care. “Are you trying to make me look like a fucking fool?”

Your brain can’t exactly work out why he’s so pissed or what the hell he’s talking about but that’s got less to do with the alcohol and more with the fact that you don’t care anymore. He can be as pissed off as he wants, he’s not killing your vibe because he’s having a hissy fit over God knows what. You just stand there, waiting for him to speak again and when he doesn’t you just stare at him. 

He looks hot in a light blue dress shirt with only the last two buttons done up leaving the shirt open enough that you can see all the tattoos that litter his chest and top half of his stomach. He’s wearing tight black jeans, which outlines his crotch perfectly, and black Converse High Tops. He’s practically blowing out steam from his nostrils at this point but you don’t give a fuck. Colson doesn’t scare you, he never has. 

You take a few steps towards him and he watches you warily. You bite your bottom lip as you stand in front of him and his gaze zeroes in on the movement. You lean up on your tippy toes and graze the tip of your nose against the bulging vein in his neck, up towards his jawline. His breath quivers at your touch and you run your fingernails up his arms to his exposed skin on his chest. He’s practically panting now and you love the control. He never lets you take the lead like this and the whole new experience is making you wet. You go to loop your hands around the back of his neck but he grabs your wrists and shoves you away.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” he spits at you and normally the rejection would shatter you but right now you feel nothing but desire. You step towards him again but he moves out of your reach. “I SAID FUCKING STOP!”

“Oh I forgot, we only fuck when you want to right?” you snort and he scowls at you. “I forgot that you’re in charge and I’m just supposed to be here, waiting, ready for when you want to use and abuse me.”

“Don’t act fucking innocent. You love it,” he spits at you and you almost slap his stupid face. You clench and unclench your fists at your side, holding yourself together. “You love when I spank your ass raw, when I pound into you so you can’t fucking walk the next day.”

“Yeah, it’s my great fucking joy in love Colson.”

You turn on your heels and start to leave the alleyway. You can’t be bothered going back inside and pretending like you’re happy to be there. You’re so done with faking it and you’re done with Colson. Yet again, you stupidly thought tonight would be different than any other time with Colson. You can’t keep convincing yourself that anything about your ‘friendship’ with him will change. Friends with benefits is a fucking sadistic concept and no one should be dumb enough to convince themself that it would be any different for them.

“Why were you crying last night?” he calls after you and you stop dead in your tracks, your blood running cold. 

“Wh-what?” you turn around and look at him dumbfounded. You feel like you’ve instantly sobered up just from that one question.

“I heard you before I left. I went to leave but I wanted some water and when I was standing in your kitchen, I heard you. Why?”

“I-I wasn’t, you…you must’ve heard wrong,” you trip over your words as you try to think of some explanation and his features shift. He storms towards you and stands in your space.

“WHY THE FUCK WON’T YOU JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH!?” he screams, as close to your face as humanly possible.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU! FUCK! DO YOU FEEL BETTER NOW?!” you scream back at him and he stumbles back. He doesn’t say anything, he just turns and walks away, leaving you standing alone in the alley, broken and hurt.

#colson baker #machine gun kelly #mgk #tickets to my downfall #mgk imagine #ttmdf #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly imagine #mgk x reader #est19xx #mgkxx #colson baker x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #good mourning #mgk fanfic #mgk smut #mgk angst

[jessi-b]

Hurtful

As a minimalist, all the clothes I have remind me of him. I’ve had them all this time, they’ve gotten to know him with me, were there for everything. Oh how I wish I could slip into their eyes and watch our first date, the way we slowly got to know each other, the way I started to trust him, started to fall for him. The way he became my rock-solid support, the one that I now can’t seem to hold myself up without.

I can see myself wearing these clothes in pictures with him. I remember when I wore that dress, or that top. It all hurts. So slowly I’m getting rid of my entire wardrobe. I’m making new memories, like that new top I just bought for a first date, the one I got stood up in.

The new memories aren’t great to be fair. The ones with him were better.

So I exchange, slowly but surely, each item, to somehow drop the pain, bit by bit. I try to neglect the creeping feeling that nothing can wash him off my skin. No matter how many new layers I slip into, I feel the rawness, the touch of his fingers, the softness of his caring for me with all his heart.

I’ve lost that heart forever, and it hurts, even after all this time. So I try. I find new colours, new occasions, a different style. I don’t want to, I want to be who I was with him. But I can’t.

I need to become this new, braver version of myself that faces this world alone. And I’ve gotten fancy new garments that rock, that say I’m a badass girl. People stare at me while I walk down the street, because I don’t give a sht. This girl is cool! They think. She rocks, she’s independent and strong! They don’t see how this is all a face, how underneath this shell there’s a thousand tiny star fragments that have shattered, and that make up who I am somehow, even though I don’t quite know how I fit back together again.

I will be this new version for a while. Broken and hurt inside, shielding myself off from this tough new world as best as I can. Every new blow cuts so much deeper without him. Hurtful - he taught me that.

And one day I hope that someone new will come along, shining like a bright light. So warm I can feel my heart melting, feeling safe again. Someone that will see my pieces for what they are, and isn’t disgusted or appalled, or even afraid. Someone to guide me again, to heal me and hold me tight late at night, like I do it for myself right now.

Maybe someday I can be whole again, and not feel pain when I have to dress myself each morning. I will be able to find peace with my clothes, and love and use them for what they are, trying to remember the warm memories that might still stick to them like a quiet hue. Shaping a new, happy life as I go on. The pain in my chest will be gone, and with each item I touch, I will be grateful for everything that they’ve known.

I won’t feel sad anymore. I will feel blessed to have had such a deep connection with another human at least once in this lifetime. I won’t feel scared of a potential future alone anymore. Until then I have to hold tight and build myself slowly back together. Hurtful, the pain in my chest is so strong. Hurtful, please go away.

#heartache #heartbreak #loneliness #breakup #miss you #missing you #broken #alone #feeling #feels

[nightcall99]

Dreams from 4.11.23.

Dream 1: I was at work and then TC arrives and it's time for me to home. He calls out to me as I am leaving, because he wants to ask me a question, so I go into the office corner with him so we can discuss it. He wants to do a shift swap. The roster is up on the screen of the computer and he is pointing towards which shift of mine and which shift of his he wants to exchange. I am trying to be funny, pretending to not compute what he saying so he has to explain it to me over and over. At the same time though, even though it’s so simple I also think I genuinely don't understand what he is asking me, it's like I'm not even 'there' anymore to care.

Basically in the first week of the roster, under my name, it looks to be filled with shifts. And then after that week, in the three weeks afterwards, it doesn't look like I am working much except for maybe one random shift in the third week. He says to me, did you want to take my shift in the first week, making it so that you work 6 or 7 days and I'll take that random shift in the third week and you can have a long stretch of time off? I think about how that would mean the first work week will be extra intense and also what would I even do with that much time off. Work exists for me to break up the monotony. I agree to it though since it makes ultimately no difference to me. I don't really care. We chat for a little while longer about nothing and then I leave and go home.

Dream 2: I am in Vietnam in Ho Chi Minh city. I am here on holiday and I am kind of sceptical about the fact that I am even here. Am I really here? I keep thinking about how LN lives in this city and how I really don’t want to randomly bump into her if I go outside and explore the streets.

Dream 3: There are half a dozen chickens covered all over in some kind of thick tan-coloured granular coating. I think it is something they produce from their pores when they consume chicken feed, but honestly it just looks like caked-up chicken feed that is stuck to their skin. I think as humans we can utilise this substance for our own purposes but these chickens have produced so much that they are absolutely encased in it, to the point where they are all stuck together in a block. They are still alive, but they can't move and I feel bad for them. I start to get working on removing the substance from their bodies. It's brittle and comes off in chunks in my hands. I've almost freed one of the chickens. It is gross work but I do it, I can’t just leave these chickens there like this.

Dream 4: There are some dogs, I think Siberian huskies on a table. There is maybe half a dozen of them but they are all stuck together. Their limbs are woven in together somehow and I can't see it properly but I know they are attached to each other and it means they can't move. I think some of the dogs are already dead. I try to get the ones that are alive separated and when they come apart, these dogs move a bit at first but then they stop moving and die too. And now there are all these massive dead dogs and I don’t know what to do. I’m going to have to get rid of them. I think of calling for my mother in the other room, but how could I do that, ask her to help get rid of these dead bodies? It’s horrific. But I’ll need to. I need the help since I can’t do it by myself. I stand there in indecision.

Dream 5: I see photos of AD posting several pictures of herself all dressed up as if she is about to head out to a party. Her hair and makeup are done expertly. She looks amazing, her outfit is so pretty and the whole style from head to toe is very unique. She was posing in pictures with someone else, another girl who might pass as her daughter. They both looked gorgeous.

[tsumune]

haikyuu boys get glasses

features: atsumu, osamu

tags: fluff, ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ

a/n: atsumu’s part is inspired by @/zan_miya’s art on ig!

miya atsumu

atsumu is stubborn

he often stays up watching volleyball matches on his phone in the dark

you and osamu have both warned him about his habits before, but he just brushes it off

finally, it’s time for his yearly eye checkup

“this isn’t fair! why doesn’t ‘samu need glasses too!” atsumu complains while seated in the black leather chair of the optometrist’s office.

“because i don’t spend all day and night glued to my phone watching volleyball matches,” osamu replies with an exasperated side eye to his brother.

atsumu groans and slumps further down his chair. the optometrist, bless him for putting up with the miya twins, tells him he can go and pick out a pair of glasses when he’s ready.

“help me pick a good pair, ‘samu.”

osamu snickers to himself as he picks out the tackiest pair he can find: thick, bright orange frames.

“wow, these aren’t bad,” atsumu says as he takes and examines them. osamu is about to shoot his brother a disgusted look when atsumu whacks him over the head.

“take this seriously! this has to fit well with my public image. i’ll treat ya to a meal if you find a better pair than me.”

of course atsumu finds a way to make this into a competition, but osamu knows he’s just as competitive and they begin searching the racks in earnest. finally, osamu comes across a pair that are genuinely pretty good.

“those don’t look half bad on ya, ‘tsumu.”

“really? then ya should wear a pair with me!”

“no.”

“aw come on-“ osamu walks off in the middle of atsumu’s unconvincing whining and starts heading for the front desk, atsumu trailing behind dejectedly.

-

“babe! what’s taking you so long to get ready?” you call out to your boyfriend in the bathroom. atsumu gives a muffled “i’ll be done soon!”, but he doesn’t move just yet. he stares at his reflection, black frames sitting comfortably on his face. atsumu has always cared about his appearance, so while he doesn’t love the idea of having to wear something he didn’t choose to willingly, he admits the pair osamu chose isn’t all that bad. now he’s just worried about whether you’ll like it or not. he thinks the glasses make him look more dorky. are you into that? well, only one way to find. atsumu gives one last sigh and lightly slaps both sides of his cheeks.

“took you long enoug-“ your words are cut off as you stare at the blonde in front of you, eyes shyly cast downward and a faint pink blush dusting his cheeks. neither of you move nor speak for what seems like minutes. atsumu shifts uncomfortably in his spot, too intimidated by the silence to look for your reaction. but he can feel your stare boring into him, and it withers his confidence more and more, until eventually he can’t stand it anymore.

“does it look that bad!”

“you look so adorable!”

the two of you yell at each other at the same time, and are both taken aback by the other’s exclamation.

“you think so?”

“what, why would it look bad!”

atsumu’s blush deepens as you suddenly move up flush against him, your head tilted up to look into his eyes.

“‘tsumu, you really look so cute, they suit you so much.”

no way. how can you be so cute and sincere while saying that? atsumu feels like he can melt into a puddle, but he doesn’t want to let you realize your effect on him, so he feigns confidence.

“yeah, i knew they’d look good on me.”

you snicker softly at your boyfriend’s pride, and pretend as if you didn’t just hear his insecure words or see his clearly nervous stance as he waited for your approval. you grin.

“well then, why don’t we go see a movie after dinner tonight? you’ll actually be able to see the screen this time.” you tease.

“hey, i could see the screen perfectly fine last time.”

“really? then tell me, what was the demon slayer movie about?”

“...a slayer...slaying demons.”

“you were blind as a bat.”

miya osamu

osamu is often staring at bills and budgets all day for his restaurant

you have a feeling his eyesight is worsening because he always asks you for help finding things

he wonders where his calculator is when it’s right next to him, or drops a pen and loses it forever

one time as you walked towards the meeting place for a date he didn’t wave until you were a few feet away from him because he didn’t recognize you

so you finally force him to go to the eye doctor and he gets a pair of glasses

“hey osamu- woah.” a regular enters onigiri miya and is stunned for a few moments as he looks at the shop owner.

osamu glances up at him and smiles. “the regular?”

“yeah. when’d you get glasses? it doesn’t really suit you,” the customer says as he sits himself down. osamu furrows his brows but decides to brush off the comment.

“just a few days ago, i’ve been having vision problems for a while.” the customer hums in response and osamu gets to work on his order.

for the rest of the day, more regulars filter in and out, some seeing osamu since he got his new glasses for the first time. some of them make comments, such as ‘well that’s new’ or ‘you look different’, and osamu can’t help but think on the negative side. sure, they probably didn’t mean anything bad, and osamu didn’t think he’d be one to care so much about others’ opinions, but for some reason they got to him more than usual. he stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror on his break, and slowly removes his glasses.

-

that night, you hear yelling from osamu’s home office again.

“y/n, have you seen my calculator?”

that’s a question you haven’t heard in a while. you walk in to find osamu bent under his desk, looking around and feeling the ground. when he comes back up, you realize why he couldn’t find it.

“baby, why did you take your glasses off?”

“they were giving me a headache. just help me find my calculator,” osamu says quickly, but you don’t buy his lie. the glasses fit perfectly fine before, and he even mused about how it’s amazing he can see every little detail now (he pointed out a pimple on your face and you wanted to smack him).

“no. i’m not helping you until you tell me why you took your glasses off. or you can just put them back on and find it yourself.”

osamu sighs in defeat, and a small pout paints his face.

“some of the regulars said they don’t suit me...”

you stare at osamu, and then spot his glasses on the table beside him. you pick them up and slowly slip them over his eyes.

osamu looks up at you like a hurt puppy, and you feel your heart melt.

“don’t listen to them. you’re the prettiest boy in the world, glasses or not.” you place small kisses all over osamu’s face, watching as his expression brightens. he laughs when you don’t stop, complaining that it tickles, and you take in osamu’s face, the way his smile lifts his cheekbones and his eyes twinkle in laughter.

“there’s my pretty boy,” you say solemnly, hand patting osamu’s head. before he can react, you pull out your phone and take a picture, turning it around to show him. you zoom into his face and point out everything you love about it while osamu feigns protest.

“i love the way your lips sit in a small cute pout, but curl up when you’re happy. i love your nose, and how it scrunches up when you get cold. i love your well-kempt eyebrows, and how you pretend you hate me plucking them but you really love it,” osamu shakes his head playfully, but a smile is playing on his lips as he pulls you down to sit on his lap.

“but most of all, i love your eyes. i love how i can clearly see them through your glasses, how the silver frames highlight their colour even more, and how i know that you can clearly see the world and all it has to offer through them too. i hope you can see how truly beautiful you are.”

osamu stares into your eyes and feels like he’s drowning in their sincerity. he can feel tears threaten to come up, and he blinks quickly to get rid of them. looking at the picture of himself on your phone, he decides he does look pretty good.

“ah, i found my calculator,” he says as he reaches behind you. “thanks for helping me,” his eyes shift to the side, and you understand what he means.

“anytime,” you reply with another kiss to his cheek.

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #i know atsumu wouldn't need subs for the demon slayer movie just pretend:p

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Like a fool [Oliver Wood x Reader] - Heloise’s Christmas Calendar - Challenge

December 24 – Like a fool [Oliver Wood x Reader]

Title: Like a fool Pairing: Oliver Wood x Female!Reader   Word count: 4.7k   Published: 24 December, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore   Notes: This is part of Heloise’s Christmas Calendar. Summary: You have fancied the Gryffindor quidditch captain so obviously, the whole school knew about it. Of course, Oliver didn’t miss to realise your feelings which you were sure he secretly returned. That was until you overheard a conversation.  Challenge: [x] [x] [x] [x]  I wrote this piece for @lunalovegxxd​ ‘s 12 days of angst event using the below prompt. 

24.12 - “Left under the mistletoe”

This is also my entry to @chudleycanons​ ‘s writing challenge using the below trope and prompt. 

Trope: “Unrequited love” Prompt: “You’re all I ever think about.”

Heloise’s Christmas Calendar Masterlist

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Oliver Wood was once again in detention. He was not supposed to, he was the captain of Gryffindor’s quidditch team, he was regulated and composed, a born leader. He was always on top of things, ready with an answer even in the most unexpected situations.

Except when it came to you.

The boy knew of your crush on him, you have been chasing him for months relentlessly, but he just couldn’t figure you out. Why him, why then and certainly why you always got him in trouble. He didn’t want to think of you, he wanted you to be the last person to think of, but your continuous presence around him made you become the main focus of his attention and it riled him up. An infuriating feeling bubbled deep inside him each time you occupied his thoughts.

You didn’t cause trouble on purpose though, it just seemed to happen, but you used the opportunity wisely, to spend time with Oliver even if it was in detention. Whilst it annoyed him, you enjoyed each and every moment you could spend with him.

He groaned as he wrote down a part of the school policy for the 53rd times. He was angry about being in detention again, especially because of the scolding he received from McGonagall. The professor was rather unhappy that the captain of her house’s quidditch team once again found himself in trouble and she wasn’t afraid of telling the boy off in front of the whole school, embarrassing him.

“Are you done?” You asked, abruptly pulling Oliver out of his thoughts.

“Would you mind not talking to me?” He asked with gritted teeth.

“It’s your fault that we are here this time.” You shrugged and put your legs up on the table as you leaned back against the chair, your skirt sliding up on your thighs. His head shot up, his eyes ready to murder you or at least to try, before they wandered to the exposed skin on your legs. You could just see the slight flicker of fire in his eyes and no one could convince you that the boy didn’t feel something for you.

Oliver visibly shook his head, his eyes becoming firm again. “And how is this my fault?” He asked with a warning tone.

“If you gave into my advances before, we wouldn’t be here now. I wouldn’t have to chase after you, I wouldn’t have to keep telling you that I fancied you, and you wouldn’t get so pissed off about it that you break McGonagall’s window.” You wiggled your brows with a playful smirk.

“It was not my fault.” He raised his voice. “I’m your captain, you should listen to me, but you are the only person who always goes against me. You are driving me insane. If you did what I told you to do, things wouldn’t have spiralled out of control.” He huffed.

“As I said, if you accepted my date offer, none of the detentions would have happened.” You replied nonchalantly.

“Honestly, can’t you just stop? I have never fancied you, nor will I ever fancy you.” He spoke firmly, which made you chuckle. You stood up from your spot and walked in front of his table, bending over it, leaning on his notes with your forearm, your eyes lining up with him.

You could clearly see his adam’s apple nervously moving, his breath hitching for a second from the proximity you created. “How long are you going to keep lying to yourself?” You raised a brow questioningly. “I would have given up long ago if I didn’t see the changes in you. Back when I first confessed, you just ignored me, but it’s not the case anymore. I rile you up so easily, you can’t get me out of your head. Whenever I’m around you, it makes you nervous and when I touch you- I can see the goosebumps appear on your skin.” You whispered against his lips as you leaned forward, caressing his forearm, your own heart speeding up as you could feel him in your grasp already. His eyes wandered to your lips, watching as you bit on your lower lip.

But he quickly composed himself. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He spoke firmly, but he couldn’t fool you. You have studied each and every expression and little movement, his whole body language eagerly.

“We will see about that.” You replied with a cheeky smirk as you leaned back and walked to your table. You had 3 more weeks before Christmas break to get the boy and you were determined to do so.

*

Days passed by and Oliver was just exhausted from your constant nagging. Or so he kept saying. But you knew he didn’t mind it as much as he tried to tell others. You thought maybe he was just embarrassed that a girl was chasing after him, instead of letting him do the hunting. You thought maybe he was just inexperienced with girls, since you haven’t heard much about his love-life. You had many thoughts on why he didn’t want to give in to your advances, but him not having feelings for you was not one of them.

He sat in the Gryffindor common room with Fred and George on each side of his as they got lost in their conversation. You sat in an armchair in a corner with your friends, watching Oliver’s wide back and broad shoulders under the uniform. You were ignoring your friend’s chattering, the boy stole your attention without his knowledge. Or so you thought.

His ears started growing redder, his cheeks taking on the same colour. He turned around, his eyes meeting yours as you offered him a playful grin. He rolled his eyes and turned away, his ears taking on an even darker shade. He was way too obviously affected by you for someone who was supposed to hate you which made your confidence grow.

You stood up from your chair and walked behind the couch the boy was seated on, halting right behind Oliver. Fred and George realised your presence, but as you placed your index finger in front of your lips to quiet them, they decided to play along. They continued the conversation with a cocky smirk across their face.

“You seem to be blushing, mate.” Fred chuckled loudly, which earned a slap on the back of his head from Oliver.

“Leave me alone with your nonsense. Why on earth would I be blushing?” He huffed in an annoyed tone.

“Well, maybe because a certain girl forgot her eyes on you?” He grinned playfully. You were glad that Fred brought you up in their conversation, letting you listen in on Oliver’s thoughts.

“And why would I care about that?” Oliver asked with a nonchalant shrug, his tone clearly bored of the subject matter.

“Maybe you are catching feelings?” George quipped in, wriggling his brows. “I mean, no one would blame you. Y/n is certainly a catch.” He nudged Oliver’s shoulder.

“Are you having a laugh?” He scoffed, his scottish accent growing thicker in frustration. “I can’t stand that woman. She is making my life miserable. I have never seen anyone being so stubborn. She is infuriating and if she wasn’t a woman, I would have probably hexed her already.” He hissed through his gritted teeth. “I don’t just have to deal with her when we have quidditch practice, no, she follows me like a pathetic little puppy.” He spit in anger. You could always ignore his harsh glares, his angered tone, his irritated, hurtful comments. You always thought he was being cold because he felt awkward around you, but hearing him talk about you with so much hatred opened your eyes. You felt your throat close up, your eyes stinging from the unshed tears. You felt like he was holding onto your heart and deliberately squeezed it to cause you pain.

“Wait-” George wanted to cut him off, but Oliver didn’t let him.

“No! I understand she likes me, but what she is doing is not normal. Borderline stalker, if you ask me. She doesn’t care about my feelings, she is simply trying to force herself onto me without my permission. She doesn’t care about privacy, she is basically following me around. And most of all, it doesn't matter how many times I tell her to leave me alone, I can’t get rid of her. She is like a leech.” He groaned, agitation clear in his voice.

Your chest felt as if a heavy weight fell on it, your lungs unable to expand, your throat closed off the air it craved so badly. You felt your eyes fill up, tears glistening in them. You watched from the side as Fred looked up at you with an apologetic look. You held back the tears and nodded to the boy, silently telling him that you were just fine, but you couldn’t stay any longer. You turned on your heels and rushed up the stairs, straight to your room.

“That was harsh, mate.” Fred scolded the boy, but you couldn’t hear. You loudly shut the door behind you and fell on top of your bed, tears sliding down your face, being swallowed by your duvet.

You always thought he was just playing hard to get. You weren’t stupid, you saw the changes in him, you saw the way he blushed, the way you caught him staring at you when noone else was looking, but after all that you heard, you could only think of how pathetic you were.

You groaned in frustration, rubbing your eyes to get rid of the never-ending tears. You were disgusted of yourself, of the time you spent chasing him. Going after him for months, feeling as if you have made progress, openly showing your interest in him made you feel like a fool and now everyone knew how pathetic your crush on Oliver Wood was.

You hated yourself!

You hated him!

*

You have cried for days, your eyes were bloodshot, your cheeks swollen. You weren’t just upset about your situation, you have walked around like a bomb ready to explode, picking fights with anyone who got in your way. But by the end of the week you were just tired. Whilst Oliver’s words still hurt, you understood getting him in trouble wasn’t the best option to spend time with him, and you were smart enough to know that people didn’t always like those who they were liked by. You knew now that Oliver didn’t like you, you understood, but it was certainly not easy to see him all the time whilst trying to get over him.

You spent your time watching the boy from a distance, hurting yourself even more, but even if you tried harder, you just couldn’t get yourself to look away. Sometimes you caught his eyes as he turned to you, but you quickly turned away, pretending to focus on something very important in the distance. You didn’t want to feel like a fool, who even after being hated so openly, still ran after her crush.

You started off each day with a pep talk, preparing yourself for his presence. You couldn’t avoid him, you had classes together, you played in the same quidditch team, you were part of the same Hogwarts house, living in the very same Gryffindor tower.

Days passed painfully slowly as you kept forcing your gaze away from him, trying to concentrate on anything but his chiselled jawline, broad shoulders and cheeky grin across his face. It was a hard task, but you didn’t want to feel pathetic anymore, you had to work on getting over him and the best way to do it was to get your brain busy with anything, but him.

You walked towards your Transfiguration class, when a hand landed on your shoulder, stopping your steps. You turned around, your brows running high, your lips parting in surprise.

“Can I talk to you?” Oliver asked as he let go of your shoulder. You frowned at the boy, knowing how happy he must be to get rid of you. Though you were happy to see him, it also hurt in the worst possible way. Was he ready to laugh at you? He was finally free of you, he had no business with you.

“What for? If it’s about quidditch, you can talk to me at practice.” You spoke firmly. You didn’t mean to be rude, you knew people didn’t choose who they liked and Oliver was no exception. He couldn’t force himself to like you, nor could you force him to. Though you weren’t kind to him, the stern stance you took on was to protect your composed self.

“I’m sorry.” He breathed, his head falling forward, his gaze fixed on the ground. You frowned at the boy, unable to understand his apology.

“What are you sorry for?” You asked in confusion.

“You have been avoiding me and I didn’t understand why. George finally told me that you overheard what I said.” He explained.

You scoffed at his reply, your eyes wandering around the corridor, all sorts of angry thoughts running around in your head. Of course, now he was sorry, you thought. “Are you sorry because I heard what you said or because you said it?” You raised a questioning brow, a sceptical look spread across your face.

“Both.” He finally lifted his head to connect his deep brown eyes with yours. “I’m sorry that you heard what I said, but I shouldn’t have said it in the first place.” You knew he meant it, he was being genuine. You knew him way too well to know when he was lying and when he was telling the truth. “It was insensitive of me and honestly I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to look for excuses, but I was pissed off and the words just came out of my mouth. I really am very sorry.” It was the first time that he was standing in front of you without a hurtful word to say or an annoyed expression across his handsome face. For the first time you stood in front of him without confessing your love for him and chasing after the boy who never wanted you.

You took a deep breath, processing his words. “Your words hurt, you know?” You asked, looking into his eyes. He nodded in confirmation with an apologetic look across his face. “I guess I didn’t handle this whole situation well either. I was annoyingly stubborn.” A tiny smile was hiding in the corner of your lips as you reached for his hand to shake it. “I guess we are even. Both of us did some stupid things.” He looked down at your hand, before a smile appeared across his face and happily accepted your gesture. “I have class now, but I will see you at practice.” You said and without a second thought you left Oliver behind, heading to your class.

You didn’t plan on communicating with him more nor did you want to become friends with him, you were nowhere near getting over him. But you were glad he felt sorry and you were certainly happy that in the end, he didn’t hate you after all.

*

You were seated on your broom at the quidditch pitch, waiting for instructions from Oliver. To avoid any unnecessary conflicts, you tried to interact with him less in classes and at practice. Whilst you weren’t hated by him, you knew you had to keep him at arm’s length to be able to get over him.

You put a lock on your lips and when you were told to do something, you nodded diligently and did it. From a loud and opinionated person, you have become a ghost of yourself. You haven’t rebelled anymore nor did you get into arguments with the captain. It was just quiet and peaceful. Too peaceful to those around you who knew you well.

As practice finally finished, you landed on the quidditch pitch and hurried to the changing room.

“Y/n!” You heard Angelina from behind. You halted, waiting for her to arrive next to you, before you both headed to the changing room. “Are you okay?” She asked with a worried look.

“Of course.” You smiled, trying to shoo her worries away.

“You haven’t really been yourself recently.” She said and you didn’t need to ask to understand what she actually meant. Whilst it hurt you to distance yourself from Oliver, you didn’t want to seem any more pathetic than they already thought you were.

“I’m fine, Angie.” You placed a hand on her shoulder squeezing it reassuringly. Although the movement was more to give yourself some strength, to overcome the following 2 weeks before the break.

The castle was already decorated for Christmas, floating candles flying around the corridors, fake snow falling from the ceiling before they disappeared abruptly. Tiny Christmas trees decorated every corridor, a gigantic tree standing proudly at the Great hall in all its glory.

As you finished dressing and headed out of the changing room Angie called after you to wait for her. You looked back to give her a nod, completely missing the person standing in front of you as you accidentally walked into his back.

“Sorry.” You apologised, rubbing your forehead as Oliver turned around and shook his head. You wanted to move past him to leave, but your legs froze on the spot. Your eyes studied his handsome features eagerly. It’s been days since you actually looked at the boy, without trying to forget how good looking he was. His brown eyes scanned your face, before connecting them to yours. It’s been a while since you looked into each other’s eyes, let alone kept eye contact. You tried to force away the little scream in your head that was trying to convince you that he looked at you differently, that his eyes were warm and welcoming, not cold, hateful or apologetic anymore.

You heard a loud chuckle and as you turned your head you saw Fred pointing above you with a comical look. You lifted your head to see a mistletoe appear above you from the ceiling, leaving you gaping. Your eyes wandered back to Oliver who was still looking at the plant above him. You watched as his jaw tightened, the meaning of the mistletoe hitting him hard.

Whilst the randomly appearing mistletoes weren’t the professor’s inventions, nor were they approved by them, cunning students found a way around the rules and charmed the little buggers to appear in the most unexpected times.

Oliver’s eyes finally met yours, his lips parted in surprise as he realised what he was supposed to do. You prayed for whoever was up there to give you a chance. Just maybe a kiss on the cheek or even on the back of your hand, wrongfully getting your own hopes up.

But you were wrong.

The boy took a last look at you, his eyes holding an unknown expression as he turned on his heels and hurried out of the changing room with his steps disappearing faster than you have ever heard. You couldn’t deny the pain you felt, the suffocating feeling in your throat, your tears screaming to be able to escape. You cleared your throat and left the room, feeling the uncomfortable gazes on you. You couldn’t wait for Angelina, you needed to disappear. Once again you were the pathetic party, who longed after the boy who didn’t want you.

You just wanted the Christmas break to arrive already, you didn’t want to see him every single day anymore.

*

The last week before the holidays was going even slower, forcing you to be a shadow of your usually loud and confident self. You didn’t have energy to act as if you weren’t hurting. Teenage love is cruel, you feel it hundred times stronger and you don’t know how to cope with it. That was exactly how you felt. Unable to cope and hurting each time you caught sight of him.

You sat on one of the couches in the Gryffindor common room, the place empty and silent, two words you could hardly ever say about your part of Hogwarts. You watched the clock above the fireplace ticking. It was 3am, you were supposed to be asleep already, but you just couldn’t keep your eyes closed, your messy thoughts occupying your brain, insomnia laughing at you in the face.

You heard footsteps approaching, but you didn’t look up. You weren’t a prefect, you couldn’t care less about who walked around the castle at such late hours. You felt the couch sunk in beside you, but you didn’t move to look up at the arrival, nor did you care to know who it was. You were comfortable in the silence, your thoughts being your only friend.

“I’m sorry.” You heard his hoarse voice. You thought you heard it wrong, your head whipped around to look at him in shock as you realised his familiar voice.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, feeling slightly awkward after your last encounter in the changing room.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He shook his head, his eyes fixed on the fireplace. “I’m sorry.” He repeated himself again.

“For what this time?” You asked curiously. “You seem to enjoy apologising to me.” You chuckled lightly, making him smile as well, trying to lighten the mood.

“I don’t enjoy it to be honest. I wish I didn’t have to apologise.” He heaved a deep sigh. “I didn’t want to hurt you when I left you under the mistletoe. It’s just-“ you didn’t let him finish it, you cut straight into his sentence.

“Wait, wait, please don’t apologise for that. It’s nothing. I’m sure it was just Fred and George’s stupid prank and you don’t have to apologise for something like this. Look, it’s not like you cursed me or started a fight with me for no particular reason. It was just a silly little thing, you really shouldn’t feel the need to be sorry at all.” You kept rambling, your words leaving your lips without control, your mind in overdrive as you tried to feel less embarrassed but forced yourself into an even more awkward situation.

“Have you finished?” He asked with a raised brow and a slight smirk across his face.

“Yeah.” You breathed as you closed your eyes momentarily, heaving a deep sigh, planning to dig yourself a six feet deep hole to hide in until you graduated.

“I am apologising because I wanted to kiss you.” He confessed. Your eyes widened in surprise as you watched his profile, his jaw tightening in the dim light as he let out a sigh. “I can’t tell you what it is, I don’t exactly know how I feel, but I know I wanted to kiss you under that stupid mistletoe.” He turned to you finally, his brown eyes looking right into your soul, or that’s how you felt. You weren’t sure how to react. It made you happy that he wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t in the end. It made you feel warm and giddy that he felt something for you, but in the end, he wasn’t sure what. You didn’t know how to react to someone who didn’t know his own feelings.

“I am confusing you, aren’t I?” He asked with a small smile, which earned him a single nod from you. “I’m confusing myself too.” He scoffed as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. You didn’t dare to talk, fearing to ruin the moment, afraid of making a fool out of yourself.

Silence fell on the two of you, your heartbeat loud enough for you to hear it in your own ears. Oliver never made you nervous, it was you who chased after him all along, but for the first time, you felt as though your heart wanted to jump out of your throat, your lips dried out in nervousness and in your awkward state you didn’t even know where to put your hands.

You had a silly idea, one that you were scared to voice, so you decided to push it in the back of your mind and instead forced yourself to talk. “What do you feel? I mean, you said you can’t word it, but maybe you could describe it?” You asked as you watched the flames in the fireplace, your throat drying out in your nervous state. You felt his gaze on you, but you didn’t dare to look at him as you waited for him to reply.

“You know, you’re all I ever think about.” You turned towards the boy, your eyes wide in surprise. “At first it was because you annoyed me with your constant love confessions, but since you stopped, I don’t know why, but your face keeps appearing in my head.” He chuckled weakly. “When we are in the same room, I keep looking for your eyes, but recently you haven’t been returning it and it makes me feel heavy.” He scoffed at his own words. “I thought I wanted you to stop hanging around me, but now that you did, it drives me nuts that you are not there.” You wanted to jump up from the couch and throw your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug, but you didn’t dare to move. It felt like you were in a dream and you were scared it would disappear the second you moved. “When we stood under that mistletoe, I really wanted to kiss you, but I was so confused and I just couldn’t do it. Since then I have been having a battle inside me.”

You gulped loudly as your silly idea from earlier returned, but after all you have heard from Oliver, you couldn’t keep it in any longer. “Maybe if you kissed me now, it would help.” You whispered, your eyes leaving him and focusing on the fireplace. You felt his intense gaze on you, but you didn’t dare to turn. You didn’t want to see his face if in case he decided to reject you again.

You felt him shuffle on the couch, soon the material sinking in right beside you. He placed a hand on your cheek, turning you towards him, his eyes studying you curiously. “Did you mean that?” He asked and you nodded in reply, his proximity not letting a word escape your lips. Your breath hitched as you felt him leaning closer, his lips gently grazing yours before connecting your lips.

You wanted to sigh into the kiss, his lips on yours feeling as if they were made to be for you, but the air was stuck in your lungs, fearing he would pull back. It was a slow kiss, both of you experiencing an unknown territory, studying each other’s movements, the sensation the kiss made you feel.

You pulled away for a long-awaited breath. His eyes were closed, but you could read his satisfied, content expression. A small smile spread across your face, feeling both confident and uncertain at the same time. Before you could have even said something or question his feelings, he pulled you back against his lips, kissing you hungrily, his usual confidence catching up with him.

You froze for a moment, but soon you kissed him back as passionately as you could, trying to force all your feelings in that one kiss. You ran your fingers through his short brown hair, scratching his scalp gently, earning a silent moan from him.

As he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. You watched his long lashes spread across his cheeks, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. “Did that help?” You whispered, which made him silently chuckle, earning a small smile from you.

“It certainly did.” He replied as he opened his eyes. “I don’t think I ever want to stop kissing you.” He confessed, your smile growing wider as you bit into your bottom lip.

“Noone says you have to.” You giggled as he pulled you back against his lips again, enjoying the feel of your mouth on his.

The night quickly washed away as you laid in each other’s arms on the couch, but you knew with the new day, you are on to a fresh start, a start where your unrequited love isn’t unrequited after all.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

Harry Potter general taglist: @inkhearthes​ @hufflefluff-writer @fific7​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @kalimagik​ @accio-rogers​ @harrypotter289​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @iliveiloveiwrite​ @mytreec​ @chaoticgirl04​ @idont-knowrn​ @mayaaa-l​ @imboredandneedalife​ @pregnant-piggy​ @prongsies​ @holdupwhat​ @ravenclea​ @kashishwrites​ @izzytheninja​ @timogtrrz​ @wassup-peoples​ @levylovegood​ @msmimimerton​ @bbeauttyybbx​ @kiwi-sloan​ @moatsnow​ @pandaxnienke​ @chloer1275​ @sreidswhore​ 

Christmas Calendar taglist: @a-classic-eye​

Harry Potter - Golden trio era taglist: @nhcwdw​

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

#Heloise's Christmas Calendar #oliver wood #Oliver x reader #oliver x reader fanfiction #oliver x reader imagine #oliver x reader one shot #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x reader fanfiction #oliver wood x reader imagine #oliver wood x reader one shot #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood one shot #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood christmas #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter

[mandoalorian]

I Believe In Love [Max Lord x F!Reader] - Epilogue

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person’s relationship with his son. You’ve heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You’ve felt his pain and anguish and you’ve never been able to relate to anything more. But things don’t come easy for you, and they certainly don’t come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: the long awaited epilogue. food mention, alcohol mention, pregnancy mention and FEELS.

Word Count: 2000>

REBLOGS APPRECIATED.

Masterlist

Previous - Epilogue - The End.

July 7th, 1985 (One year later).

So much had happened in the space of a year. You’d gone from being an Amazonian Goddess, haunted by the voice of a man from a far off world, to destroying the God of Lies for good, and discovering the beauty in true love. You still kept the crumpled up polaroid of Alistair and Maxwell that you’d taken back when he invited you into his home, last July. It had proven to be a better good luck charm than your tiara or lasso; and it served as a constant reminder of home.

Because home wasn’t Themyscira anymore. It was wherever Maxwell and Alistair were.

“And over here we have a vast collection of quartz! It’s usually mined in Brazil, and it’s the second most common crystal in the world.” Maxwell explains, using the most outlandish hand gestures everytime he speaks. He always spoke with his hands; even when he was on the television. You guessed that some things just didn’t change.

You watch him from afar, unable to contain the smile on your lips. His eyes sparkled and gleamed like diamonds as he gave facts about each of the gemstones he presented.

Black Gold had become an extension of the Smithsonian’s paleontology and gemology department, just like you had planned with Diana. When she had sorted it all out, and you broke the news to Maxwell, he was overjoyed. He hadn’t lost the business he’d worked so hard on, it had only been replaced by something even greater. And he couldn’t have done it without you. He’d spent so much of his life searching for happiness— looking in all the wrong places.

Through meeting you and gaining full custody of his son, he learned that success wasn’t money or wealth or having a solid career. For him, success was family. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

His eyes caught you standing in a shadowed corner. Alistair was holding your hand, and in your free arm, you were cradling your three month old daughter. He knew now, he’d finally found his happiness. He smiled over at his little family and you shot him a kissy face, giggling when you noticed the rose coloured flush that crossed his cheeks.

You and your little family waited for Maxwell to finish his tour guide of the museum, admiring his work ethic. You were so grateful that he was able to adopt his superb salesman skills and apply them to a profession he was truly passionate about. He’d always loved rocks and gems and stones, even having his own collection at home. But this… this was infinitely better than drilling oil and accidentally scamming millions across the globe. Maxwell was putting genuine smiles on people’s faces, kids too, and that in itself was a beautiful thing.

Once the tour group disbanded, Maxwell was quick to run over to you. He took your daughter from your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I missed you,” you smiled, watching as Maxwell fussed over his daughter. “How was work?”

Maxwell’s dark eyes met yours and he beamed with delight. “Oh it was fantastic,” He grinned before excitedly telling you all the details about his day at work. He knelt down to Alistair’s level and ruffled his son’s black hair. “Did you enjoy visiting the aquarium with mommy?” he asked.

“It was amazing!” Alistair squealed, sharing the same excitement as his father. It was unbelievable how much Alistair was growing to be a Mini-Max.

Maxwell checked his wrist watch and gasped when he saw the time. He called Raquel over, who had agreed to watch the kids this evening while you and him had ‘date night’. It was a rarity for sure, and neither you or Max liked to be without your children, but tonight was extra important. It signified exactly one year since you entered Maxwell’s life and changed his world forever.

Once it was just you two, Max couldn’t keep his hands off you. “You look beautiful.” he grumbled, pressing kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck. His large hands roamed your body, paying extra attention to your breasts. Clearly, he didn’t care if anyone was looking. You giggled and slipped out beneath him.

“Save something for tonight.” You laughed, rolling your eyes and taking his hand.

Tonight.

You had no idea what was to come.

“I’m sorry it’s not Greece,” Maxwell chuckled, reminiscing on your first holiday together (if he could even call it that). It was quite an unconventional one— as he’d never expected to go cave exploring with two Amazonian Godesses’ and kill a God. You laughed, rolling your eyes.

“It feels like yesterday,” you admitted. “Leaving Themyscira… giving up my powers. I can’t believe it’s been a year.”

Maxwell nodded knowingly. “Tell me, princess, if you could go back and change things, would you?”

You’d thought about the question numerous times. You did miss your mother, and the beautiful tranquil oceans of your home world. But if you could change things— would you? The answer was simple.

“No.” you beamed brightly, pressing your lips together.

“Good.” said Maxwell. He gestured a waiter over and ordered a bottle of the finest champagne.

Things had been a little rough for Maxwell, after the dreamstone debacle and all. Inevitably he had to sell his white suburban mansion, as he didn’t really have the steadiest of incomes rolling in. But in a way, he was relieved. He didn’t need all that space anyway, and actually he’d really come to like the much cozier apartment where you, him and Alistair were living now. But with a little one on the way, you had both been discussing the prospect of finding a place with an extra bedroom.

He was happy with his job at the Smithsonian. He was passionate about it too, which was the main thing. He was still a businessman , but a much nicer one. After all, the oil-mogul Max Lord was long gone, and had been replaced by a darker haired, sweater-wearing Maxwell Lorenzano. You had no complaints.

“Here’s the thing,” Maxwell announced, straightening his composure after you’d both finished dinner. “And there’s really no easy way to say this—“

You giggled, scrunching your nose up with curiosity. “Spit it out Maxie.”

“I’m in love with you,” Max revealed, brushing his thumb over your knuckles tenderly.

You nudged him playfully. “I know that, silly,” you laughed. “I’m in love with you too. But tell me, what’s really on your mind.”

Maxwell stiffened slightly. It was now or never.

“You have shown me so much kindness, and you’ve shown me hope when I didn’t believe things could get any better. You made sacrifices for me… for my family. Gave up your powers and the chance to see your own mom again. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make your decision worthwhile but I’ve known for a long time now that— I at least want to try. I don’t ever want to stop loving you. I want to be with you… forever. For the rest of my life. An eternity. Because you make me happier than I ever thought I could be,”

Tears pricked your eyes at Maxwell’s sentiment, your heart clenching with adoration in your chest.

“And with our family growing, and the possibility of getting a new house, I just… I want to know. I want to know if you’ll be my wife and— if you’ll marry me?” he finished, a hopeful glint in his chocolate brown eyes.

You couldn’t rid yourself of the smile that crossed your cheeks. “Yes Max,” you cried, leaning over the table and wrapping your arms around your fiancée. “Yes I will marry you.”

—————The end.

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl20 @phoenixhalliwell @xoxo-callie @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja200 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor @pedro-pastel @steeevienicks @rrtxcmt @saphic-susperia @readsalot73 @softmedics @jade10077 @dodgerandevans @planetariumx @pascals-cat @ajeff855 @spideysimpossiblegirl @smoldjarin @thewayofthemandalorian

I Believe In Love tagged in replies 💕

#pedro pascal #maxwell lord #ww84 #max lord #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal x you

[quilna]

Hey, anyone want to see me pull out one of my really old aus again? It’s my creator-creation swap au again. Honestly, this was my favourite out of my own aus, I just never know what to do with it.

For a recap of the au, Hyde is the original scientist, Jekyll is the “purely good alter ego” but in the same awkward, trying-too-hard way that original Hyde is the evil alter ego in canon. Frankenstein and Creature also trade places.

Firstly, when I first created this au I gave Jekyll the green colour scheme and Hyde the red one. I’ve changed that. The idea of Hyde in red clothes having a green eyed moment where he breaks down crying was just too strange to me on so many levels. Instead, to differentiate these versions of Jekyll and Hyde from the originals, I’ve given them both bandages on their arms.

Hyde gets into a lot of scrapes and Jekyll has his own share of injuries.

Anyway, new au details:

- Jekyll is incredibly squeamish of blood and injuries. He starts shaking pretty violently whenever he sees blood and he absolutely hates it. It’s horrible conduct to shake when someone is trying to speak to you. Not gentlemanly in the least. As such, he tends to apologize a lot when he’s doing it.

- The lodgers don’t realize at first that Jekyll is willing to hurt himself to follow orders.

At first, it’s like a game of truth or dare, trying to find out what questions he’s willing to answer, what sort of commands he’s willing to do, what the funniest thing they can make him do is. (Well he wasn’t willing to slap or kiss anyone and he refuses to tell anyone about his past so he clearly has limits.)

Jekyll, always happy to please, seems to be having a good time. Besides, he’s still rather mischevous at heart so a game of truth or dare, although he tries to view it internally as just a set of commands to follow (This isn’t supposed to be fun. Proper gentlemen don’t do fun), is actually a blast for him. Everyone is having too much fun with the game to realize that it’s going too far until it’s too late. It’s not until someone gives a poorly thought through command, not expecting him to actually follow it, that Jekyll gets hurt and the truth of the situation dawns of them. (Not sure what the command would be. Maybe they ask him to touch a hot coal or juggle knives. Or maybe he sticks around after they’re done for far too long. Someone gets annoyed and badly phrases their “go away” like how some people use phrases like “go to hell” but Jekyll mistakes it for a serious command.)

- From that point on, the lodgers are a lot more careful with commands and even try to be more sensitive to Jekyll. However, Jekyll absolutely hates being fussed over and tends to sort of avoid anyone who worries over his health too much.

- Although the lodgers are pretty careful, there are a lot of people out there more than willing to take advantage of Jekyll and he frequently comes back with cuts and bruises.

- The lodgers are convinced that Edward Hyde has an alter ego that he uses to go out, get into fights, and get drunk at nights based on the fact that he keeps disappearing at nights and coming back with bruises and cuts. (Not some magical science alter ego, just a fake name and maybe a wig.)

- These stories have gone around and gotten exaggerated so much like a game of telephone that a bunch of the lodgers are genuinely convinced that Hyde goes to fight clubs at night under the stage name of The Spirit of London at Night. Hyde is absolutely bewildered as to why people keep calling him that and then winking.

- When Jekyll is prevented from going out, instead of using the nightmares to torment Hyde and achieve his freedom, he turns to the mind... People..? Mind Frankenstein stays as a neutral party, just wanting to continue studying the inside of Hyde’s mind but Mind Lanyon is still completely for getting rid of Hyde or at least just being really rude to him. It’s difficult for Hyde to differentiate the horrible things he’s been told by Mind Lanyon (and probably the other mind people too but none of them have been revealed in canon so I don’t know what they would be like.) from the real Lanyon.

- It’s a lot more concerning when Jekyll vanishes after the fire considering the kind of person he is. It may make sense for Hyde to do his best to run from the police but Jekyll in this au isn’t the type in the least. Especially vanishing so thoroughly. Rachel knows something is up but Lanyon is pretty flippant, believing that maybe someone just asked him to stay put. But Rachel asked every one of the lodgers and none of them have seen him since or given him any sort of command to hide himself. Even then, she’s pretty confident that he wouldn’t be able to sit still knowing that most of the police force is out looking for him and, by evading capture, he’s just wasting all of their time and effort which could be spent looking for other criminals.

- When Jekyll does show up again, Rachel manages to catch him before he turns himself in and beg him not to. Jekyll is torn between following the law and not wanting to upset Rachel and its clear that, although she’s gotten him to stay still for now, he’ll probably go straight back to the police the moment her back is turned. Unsure where else to take him, she takes him to Lucy, hoping to show him that breaking the law doesn’t necessarily make him a bad person and that the world isn’t as black and white as he thinks it is.

- Jekyll meeting Lucy doesn’t go particularly well. Staying in control too long makes him pretty jittery and Hyde is a huge Lucy fanboy (again) which makes Jekyll, in a weird, guilty way, very excited to see her. Except she’s a wanted criminal! And Hyde in all his rotteness likes her! So, to Dr Jekyll, that must make her a bad person too. Except... Upon meeting her and having the situation explained she’s... Not as bad as everyone made her out to be..? But that doesn’t make sense to Jekyll because... because it just isn’t right! Then, there’s the fact that he’s supposed to be in prison for his crimes at that moment but Rachel is practically begging him not to and he can’t upset his friends! And she’s asking so many questions he can’t answer about where he’s been hiding, what’s been stopping him from going out all this time, but if she ever found out the truth, she would surely hate him! Just like how the mind versions of his friends hate him for what he is.

Finally, overwhelmed, Jekyll can’t take it anymore. With no regards for how rude it is to just sprint out the door without even a goodbye, he runs for it. Although Rachel tries to follow him, Jekyll has a head start and all of Hyde’s street smarts. Even in such a state Jekyll easily manages to slip away in the sewers and disappear.

Rachel doesn’t know what happens to him after that. He seems to have just vanished into thin air yet again and she doesn’t know where he went or what he decided to do in the end. She didn’t even find out where he had been all that time. All she can do is hope.

- Jekyll may or may not be very rude to Lucy in his fluster and panic. Luckily, unlike canon, the stories Lucy has heard of him don’t paint him as a jerk. Understanding that this isn’t normal for him and recognizing that he’s lashing out, she’s a lot more sympathetic despite how nasty he gets to her and her spouses, trying to soothe him as best as she can. Rachel has never seen such behaviour from Jekyll before and is horrified to see him acting in such a way.

#the glass scientists #tgs au #blood #creator-creation swap au

[elliehase-blog]

Crowley touches his neck, unconsciously, feeling some smooth scales beneath his bristly line of hair. He’s still not used to his shorter hairdo. It was more or less a hasty decision after he witnessed the crucifixion at Golgotha, the exhibit A of how cruel mankind can be and how little Heaven cares about... anything. Seriously, the young man screamed for hours, and no one showed mercy, not a single human, not the Almighty herself, and certainly no angel showed his feathered arse to support the poor man. Heaven is broken and evil, that’s it. Almost comparable to Hell, but with more sickening hypocrisy and less fancy drinks.

Crowley knew in this exact moment at the top of Golgotha, that he desperately needed to get rid of this shit. So he cut off his hair.

Somehow, it had been an acrimonious feeling to hold the coppery strands of hair in his fingers, the last reminder of his angelic past. Odd and liberating. Sometimes he can sense the tips of his hair, touching his shoulders lightly like a ghost pain, still haunting him.

“I like it,” someone says.

Crowley’s lips twitch. It’s barely visible, but it’s there. “Ah, shut up.”

“Honestly, dear, it suits you.”

Aziraphale breathes a gentle kiss on the bare skin of his neck, as if he wants to emphasize on how much he’s intrigued by the sight he’s given. Well, in his defence, the demon’s look is rather new to him.

The angel wraps almost protectively his arms around him, warm and strong, pressing his silky-soft chest against Crowley’s back. He can feel his curly hair tickle his skin. The demon is suddenly cocooned by a naked angel. And the operative word here is naked. Aye, naked as in ‘I slip right out of my tunic and seducing you’-naked. 

The oysters were to blame, seriously.

A silly smile tugs on the corner of Crowley’s lips, and he can’t do much about it. Frankly speaking, it’s not the first time, no, not really. And after their first time, he had been so surprised he had already mentally put it on his list of ‘Sod it, Crowley, that’s too good to be true’ and considered it as over and done with. Just an accident. A terrible mistake.

So much for that then.

“Don’t get me wrong, dear. I adored your long locks and braids, I truly did, but your short haircut, well...” The angel’s fingertips wander over Crowley’s spine, slowly, tenderly above every small elevation. “It’s tempting.”

A small shiver runs through Crowley’s body. He feels strangely lightheaded and his chest is tight. It’s almost as if they can slip into another role once they’re naked. And that’s just as frightening as it is exciting.

“It’s the style these days,” he says, trying to sound suavely, and not as if it scares the shit out of him that the angel’s implying he looks hot.

They don’t talk about what they tend to do after eating oysters or after a relaxing afternoon at the caldarium. It’s not angelic, and probably not appropriate for a demon as well. So, no one ever talks about wet kisses, naked skin or sweet moans. What happens in Rome, stays at Rome. That’s really fine with Crowley because whenever he does think about it, he freaks out.

“Do you miss it?” Aziraphale asks quietly. “Your long hair?”

Aziraphale slides a little closer to him, closing the last possible gaps. It’s warm and strangely comforting. Crowley really wants to touch him right now, just something small and childlike, like holding the angel’s hand. But he doesn’t even dare to turn around. Actually, the demon is filled with dread and excitement, which is a fucking combination. Some day Aziraphale will fall, no doubt about that, and it will be Crowley’s bloody fault. He’s wondering if he should regret this entire thing and cancel it before it has got a name. Angels and demons don’t fraternize for a reason.

“Pfff, hell no! It was bloody unmanageable hair,” mumbles Crowley, hating that hollow feeling whenever he thinks about the past. He likes to move forward. Or run. Fastly, without turning back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You and your perfectly fluffy white curls which hardly ever split.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, and he knows without seeing Aziraphale’s face that he is softly smiling, not minding the demon’s well-camouflaged compliment. Instead, he starts painting small circles with his fingers over Crowley’s shoulder blades, soothingly. 

Oh, sod it!

The demon reaches for his hand, finally, intertwines their fingers. His thumb caressing the oversoft back of Aziraphale’s hand, while the angel places small wet kisses on every inch of his neck. The scales on his skin are almost gone, faded to a soft yellowish colour, glittering golden in the sunset. 

“Thanks.”

He isn’t sure what, exactly, he is thanking him for. The best sex of his life? The distraction? For not asking why he was sitting alone and sulky in this Roman pub? Or perhaps just for the feeling in his chest, warm and pure, that has removed all his gloominess... Everything is as good and as warm and pleasant as it can be. Mostly because of Aziraphale. 

Crowley doesn’t need the bloody long hair anymore. He only needs his angel.

Author’s note: I love to write flashbacks of their past so much! I created this little Rome scene after I drew both pictures. The idea with Crowley’s hair inspired me to use parts of it for my fanfiction ‘Creating Grey’ as well. So this is kind of a (not proofread) sneak peek for chapter 4 :) Hope you enjoyed it!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanart #good omens rome #ineffable partners #ineffable husbands #crowley x arizaphale #crowley #Aziraphale #the oysters were to blame

[koulakoukoula2003]

Terror (Levi x Reader)

Pairing: Levi x Reader, Levi x You, Levi x OC

Genre: loooots of fluff, and looooots of angst. Like SOOO MUCH ✨ ANGST✨, mention of violence.

Summary: You gave it your best. You fought with everything you had, but you were alone. You had to watch the Mike Squad whilst the titans tore them apart and you were the only one left to protect the scared recruits of the 104th that were cornered in Utgard Castle.

But from the moment word went out that titans had breached Wall Rose, Levi mounted his horse and set out to find you. He could not lose you. You were the only one that he had left. He found you wounded and against all odds, he rushes you back to a hospital in Trost. He can't lose you. He won't allow it.

POV: 3rd Person's POV (cuz 2nd Person is killing me y'all, sorry 😩)

Enjoyyyy!! 🥰

His horse was going fast. One hand was tight around her, pressing her body protectively against his own, and the other hand was holding the reins of his horse. Both of Levi’s hands were still holding his swords. He had already wiped out a couple of titans on his way back to Trost, but he didn’t let those bastards take any more than a few seconds of his time. (Y/n)’s time.

Her back was pressed against his chest. Her head had rolled back tiredly against his shoulder. He had wrapped his green cloak around her that should be enough to keep her warm. He did not mind the violent wind as it crushed against his body while riding fast on horseback. She needed it more than him.

Her eyes were closed. He had tried his best not to let her fall asleep. If she’d lose consciousness, then she wasn’t going to come back. How could he let this happen? Watching her wounded like that felt like a dagger stabbing mercilessly through his flesh. Her eyelids were barely open. Her hands were shaking and her breathing, heavy. It was getting slower and slower by the time. She was mumbling incomprehensible words as if she was having hallucinations. She was warm. She was probably having a fever.

“Don’t die on me,” Levi growled in her ear. “You will not die on me, (y/n),” His hand tightened around her, and in the end, he realised, he was just trying to convince himself that he wasn’t going to lose her.

He couldn’t lose her. Not like he had lost all the others. People in his life would just keep dying and leaving him alone in his misery. But he found that he was never alone and miserable because she was there. (Y/n) had always been there and she had never left. It was funny to think of how many times those past years he had tried to get rid of her, just to give it his all now to keep her with him. He could not imagine life without her.

Not without those hugs that she’d give him whenever he’d need them the most -and he never even had to ask. She just knew. Not without those terrible jokes of hers -that no one would laugh at but her and Hange- and those sassy remarks that always aimed to get on his nerves. Most times he’d only act annoyed just to give her what she wanted. And even those times that he’d pass out by his office from the exhaustion and the pressure, he’d wake up the other day covered in a blanket that she had undoubtedly brought for him.

All those years she had been there. He couldn’t lose her now. If he lost her, he’d never be able to tell her… He’d never be able to hold her in the nights. Nor listen to her stupid jokes, and her sweet laughter, and look upon that reassuring, comforting smile that she’d give him whenever he’d cup her face. He couldn’t even begin to think of what she had gone through that entire night. How many people she had watched die, and in how much pain she must have been right now.

She would be having nightmares for tonight, and for all the nights to come, but he’d hold her. He’d hold her every single night if it meant he’d be able to make her feel better. But please…

Levi buried his face briefly at the back of her shoulder and breathed her in. “Don’t leave me, (y/n)… not you,”

Time Skip

He reached the hospital by dusk. She was still breathing when the doctors took her in and vanished behind the closed doors of a room. Levi was left alone in that hospital’s empty halls of utter despair. He just sat down on a chair outside the room they had taken her in and he waited. He didn’t even know how many hours he waited, he only knew it was late in the night and only a few candles and oil lamps were bringing light in the building. Most people had left, and the hospital was almost empty. He didn’t care though. He only glanced at the closed door of her room for the hundredth time, and he knew that any moment the doctor would walk out and either tell him that she was dead, or that she had miraculously survived.

He didn’t know which one was most likely to happen. Levi pressed his elbows on the top of his knees and he stared blankly down on the white marbled floor. There was a tight knot in his stomach that he always got when either (y/n) or any other of his comrades were in danger. All the previous times, he could always deal with it, but this time, it was unbearable.

Levi’s fingers fisted painfully in his hair. Eyes wide as he could think of nothing but the worst outcome. Those hours must have been the longest of his life. He could not remember himself being so scared of anything else in his life. He had left his ODM outside with his horse, along with his jacket and his ascot that had started to feel too tight around his neck. He had rolled up his sleeves at the height of his elbows, and a few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned.

Levi sighed heavily once more. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. He never thought something could scare him that much. He could take down the wildest, most abnormal titans that humanity would ever face. He could kill in cold blood the biggest scums of the Undercity. He could fight anything, and nothing would scare him enough to catch his breath halfway his throat.

Even the morning before the latest Expedition, when he jumped off his unceremoniously interrupted sleep, on that treacherous gut feeling that his comrades were all going to die. And that feeling was correct. And then, facing their families to bring the news was twice as scary as watching their bodies being buried. But she was there. (Y/n) was beside him through all of these and he had a reason to remain strong. He had a reason to keep that frozen mask on his face of the cruel, unforgiving man that everyone made him out to be. He had a reason to remain strong, and that reason was her. It had always been.

If he lost her, what would be his reason to go on in this life? If he lost her, who was going to be with him through all those terrors, and all those nightmares, and all that pressure? Who? He had no one he could hug and they would hug him back. It had always been her.

What the hell am I going to do if she’s-?

“Captain Levi,”

The doctor’s voice cut that endless chain of thoughts that tormented his mind. Levi stood up right away and approached the man in white. He remembered his heart insanely hammering beneath his chest until he could hear it as loud as the doctor’s voice.

“Lieutenant (Y/n) lost too much blood but we managed to stop the bleeding. We administered her enough blood from a donor. She should be okay after she fights off the Hypovolemic Shock,”

“And if she doesn’t?!” Levi asked worriedly.

“She will. It may take a while, but she will,” The doctor gave him a reassuring smile. “You may see her, Captain. I’ll be here the entire night, so if you need anything, just let me know,”

“Thank you, doc,”

The doctor gave him a nod before he walked away and Levi didn’t waste a moment further. He rushed in her room, closing the door behind. It wasn’t entirely dark. The moonlight came bright from the window, and an oil lamp was resting beside her bed on a small wooden table.

She looked pale. Paler than the dead. She didn’t have that lively colour on her skin that she usually had, nor that rosy flush that was almost permanently engulfing her cheeks. Her lips were no longer that gorgeous pink, they were almost a light blue. Levi sat by a chair that rested beside the bed and his hand reached for her own. He was startled of how cold her hand was. Her hands were usually never cold, but this time, it was as if he was holding a block of ice.

It hurt him so much watching her like that. He couldn’t even begin to think of how much she had fought or how much blood she had lost. Mike and his squad were dead. He could only imagine what she had seen. She was going to break down after she’d gain back her senses.

He trapped her hand between both his own. She hissed and it made his eyes widen for a moment on the thought of hurting her somehow. “Cold,” she mumbled before her body shook and her face twisted into a tormented expression. Her fingers tightened around his own before they loosened again. Her expression changed back into a peaceful one and she slipped back into unconsciousness.

Levi for once had no idea what to do. She was already beneath three blankets that didn’t seem to be helping somehow. He sighed heavily and he wished he could take his eyes off of her but he couldn’t. He laced their fingers together and tried to warm up her hand at least. It was his fault she was in that situation. He had promised to protect her no matter what, and now she had barely made it out of death’s way.

He had failed to keep her safe. Miserably. But how could anybody know that titans would show up out of nowhere in Wall Rose? It was clear that the walls weren’t safe anymore.

There was no place that was safe in this world. There was no place where she would be and be protected. The same was for everyone else, but he did not care about everyone else. He only cared about her. He only cared about her because he had allowed himself to fall so deeply, and so irrevocably, that there was no going back. There was no going back to normal. It had never been normal actually. He was always falling. Slow, and deliberate. He was only realising it now.

He didn’t know if she’d return that feeling, and it was alright. If she wouldn’t, then he was going to back away. But he’d let her know. He had to tell her because he knew he might not ever get that chance again.

Levi for once did what he wanted to do. A fourth blanket wasn’t going to do much. He pushed off his boots. He slipped beneath the bedsheets and settled her limp body on top of his own. Her back pressed against his chest, and her head rolled back on his shoulder. His hands slipped around her waist, gathering her own hands in his and pressing her body against his own. She was cold, but those small tremors that her pale lips made, finally slowed down.

Levi pressed a kiss on her temple and his hands tightened around her, spotting that tight bandage around her stomach. “Stay with me, (y/n),” he whispered softly in her ear. His breath brushed warm down her cheekbone. “Don’t ever leave me… I-” he had no idea what it was that cut him. He didn’t know why saying those three, simple words could be so difficult. He was afraid that she’d hear him. He gritted his teeth. It was so useless to keep resisting. “I love you,” He had never before been so honest with himself. He would always keep lying to himself about being strong, and untouchable, and cold, and ruthless. But that was one thing that he was absolutely certain about. He loved her.

But, what a coward am I? Only getting to tell her when she was unconscious and hoping she’d never hear him. No. He was going to say it tomorrow again when she'd wake up. Now, he was actually hoping she’d hear him. He was hoping that by telling her that, she wouldn’t give up on that fight for her life.

Levi buried his face in her hair, and he breathed her in. His arms were tight but careful around her. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax. The doctor said she was going to be okay. He only had to wait and be with her. He wasn’t going to leave her side. Not ever.

A/N: Hello, lovelies!!!!🥰 You can read Part 2 here!!! Feel free to reblog and comment beneath to lemme know what you think! Thanks for reading!!! (This is also a chapter from my Levi x OC LongFic on ao3)

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #leviackerman #snk #aot #angst #fluff #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi x you #levi x oc

[princessofprocrastination]

Not Suitable (Quackity)

MASTERLIST

pairing : quackity x female reader

summary : quackity has always had a specific vision of what he wants his partner to look like and certain qualities he wants in them. unfortunately for you, you are the opposite of what he wants. (ANGST) 

-

as a kid, you loved the whole girly look. you wore dresses, short heels that came in a princess toy set, and wore pink lipstick all the time. 

but as time passed, as you grew older, your look changed completely. you like to say that you simply matured, that it wasn’t at all serious. slowly but surely as you were in your teenage years, your favourite colour became black. 

that didn’t mean you didn’t like pink or these other “girly” colours. sometimes, you’d even incorporate some of those bright colours in your outfits to make a statement. you just seemed to like black, it matches with everything. 

although you kept wearing black outfits or have black or dark nail polish on, your hair never stayed black or a dark colour. you just hated the look of the natural colour on yourself. it sure did fit other people, though. 

you liked to describe your style as trendy. you always follow the trends of recent times and wore what you thought looked good on you. 

-

you sat down next to sapnap, dream in the next room. you and sapnap had been friends since highschool. you skipped a grade, making yourself one of the youngest in that class which meant that you were lonely and no one really wanted to make friends with you. 

but that quickly changed when nick came up to you and offered to eat lunch with you. since then, he had been your soulmate. platonic soulmate. 

of course, being friends with nick meant that you were bound to meet the other two boys that he considered his best friends, too. it just so happens that you, george and clay ended up building an amazing friendship really quickly.

three guy bestfriends. that technically equals to having three big, protective big brothers. they really cared about you and you can see that, even if they often make fun of you. 

nick started his stream, facecam on as you sat on an extra gaming chair that clay had next to nick. you typed away on your phone as he started rambling about random things while waiting for more people to come on. 

apparently today you and nick were meant to play some scary game, you controlling the keyboard, him on the mouse. nick often forgot that it takes you a lot to get scared. 

“we’re making this video inspired by quackity and karl’s stream from a while ago.” nick told his stream, you nodding your head to agree. 

you smiled softly at the name he mentioned. quackity. it was apparent to everyone that you had some sort of crush on him. the small smiles, the little blush that rose to your cheeks if someone were to mention your ship name or tease you about it. 

it was all too obvious. of course the three boys you call your best friends knew, you’d never keep such a secret from them. but no matter how annoying the boys can be, they never once told anyone else about your not-so-little crush. 

but that didn’t mean they didn’t tease you. they enjoyed it whenever your face would turn red, whether it being you’re embarrassed or you’re mad. 

the only weird part is that nowadays, they don’t even bother to tease you anymore, not like they used to. you knew they were hiding something from you, you just didn’t know what they were hiding. 

for example, you seated next to sapnap, grinning as he mentions quackity’s name. he would never let you live down that moment. he’d tease you senseless. but this time, he only glanced at you and looked back to the stream.

and what was that? seemed like a pity glance. almost looked like he felt bad. 

you two continued the stream as the ‘scared counter’ keeps going up as sapnap keeps getting scared, you constantly laughing at him. 

“HOW ARE YOU NOT EVEN FLINCHING?” nick screams in your ear. 

“cause i’m not a pussy.” you answered him simply. 

“oh shut up, will you.” he rolled his eyes, you laughed at him being a scaredy-cat. 

you two played for a while more as the counter on the bottom left of the stream screen gets higher and higher. soon enough it reached it’s limit which meant that sapnap needed to end his stream. 

-

it was weird how time works. one second, things were mellow and slow, just like how your everyday is, and the next second, your name was trending everywhere. 

you didn’t even want to check why at first, since you knew how weird and surprising your followers are.

“dude, you need to check twitter.” nick told you in a hurry while he runs from the second floor, to the kitchen in the first floor where you were sitting, editing a video for your channel. 

so you did exactly that. you scrolled through the trending page and clicked on your name. then, you saw hundreds, if not thousands edits and videos of quackity and your video. 

the video of yours that was posted was the part when you smiled at the mention on quackity’s name but as you scrolled more, it seemed that everyone had dug through and collected snippets of you blushing or smiling when quackity was mentioned or when you were on call with him. 

you and quackity were no stranger to each other. the two of you knew each other, sapnap and him being friends and all. you just couldn’t help but fall for him. he’s just extremely charming. 

although your exterior showed otherwise, you really swooned just by looking at his pictures. 

and that’s why all the stans are going crazy. they didn’t think you’d fall for someone, especially not a man who act like a child on the internet. but you can’t predict people, especially not who they like, or more, love. 

you slowly panicked. this was embarrassing to you. more so that it’s all over the internet. there was no way you could erase all of the posts. 

on the outside, you looked composed, like it didn’t effect you at all. but nick knew you well, he knew you had a million thoughts in your head at that point. 

you were just a second close to getting into a panic attack. “hey, hey. calm down, everything’s good.” nick coos in your ear as he pulls you close to him. he knew that you hated to be left alone when you panic. 

you hated this feeling. it felt so unnecessary and it felt like you were making matters bigger than it actually is. 

but the boys would tell you otherwise, they’d make sure that thought leaves your head as soon as it reached.

your body being rocked back and forth helped you calm down as you slowly start to forget the reason of your panic in the first place. 

-

when you do come back to stream regularly, you tried to play off like nothing had happened, like it was all a dream. 

that is one bad habit you couldn’t get rid of for some reason. you liked to just run away from your problems, big or small. you would often play it off like it didn’t matter to you, eventhough it is very much the opposite. 

you’re just scared of getting hurt. you didn’t want to hear the rejection, you could never brace yourself for that kind of pain. 

but somehow this was different. you braced yourself. you didn’t know what drove you to it, but you did. maybe it was the small signs your friends showed you that you never noticed. it was like you knew that rejection was bound to happen, and that this one would hurt the most. 

you told yourself that you would never let yourself get hurt over someone, especially males. it just never made sense. they were never really worth your time, anyways. 

although personally you’ve never ended a relationship of yours badly, just maturely, you’ve read and heard how painful relationships can be. and you never understood why people kept going back into relationships when they hurt so much. 

but you get it. he’s simply addicting. you felt like you couldn’t distance yourself from him. but you needed to. and you knew that. all your friends told you that. 

you weren’t going to let some man put you down because of what you look like. 

granted, it hurt at first, but you learnt to heal, you learnt that although he probably isn’t going to be the only man who hurts you, you needed to suck it up and not show him the pain you felt. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

to summarise it all. quackity finally beat around the bush and came out with a statement on his own on his stream. 

content creators or public figures often learn that they need to leave things for private, that they can’t spill everything out for people to hear. that causes drama. 

but he didn’t stand back at all. everything he thought about you was shared on stream for all his viewers to know. maybe you liked him for his persona after all, not the real him. 

-

“talk about it?” quackity read his donation. 

“sure, i will.” he started. here it comes. 

nick told you that in order to heal and move past the pain quickly, you can’t run away from your problems, to face the current issue. so he made you watch quackity’s stream. 

you didn’t feel like shedding a single tear today because of how exhausted you are from crying for hours on end, but still agreed to your bestfriend’s wishes to sit through a long stream. 

to be honest, you weren’t expecting him to speak on it, given the amount of time he’s waited. it’s been a couple months since it happened so you could only imagine the shock of his viewers when he finally did say something. 

maybe the constant spam finally got to him.

“she’s not my type, chat.” he said. oh, that wasn’t so bad. no pain just yet. 

“she’s far from it.” okay that pinched you a little. were you really that bad. you waited for his explanation. 

“she looks so emo all the time, it’s scares me. does she ever not wear black?” ouch. and yes, yes you do.

“she’s just not what i like in women. i like soft girls who are respectful and know when to keep their mouth shut and definitely a little more conservative.” whoa. okay, maybe that hurt extra than the rest. 

you turned to nick, he had the same shocked look on his face, clearly not expecting to hear that come out of his good friend’s mouth, especially on stream. 

quackity doesn’t end there. he pulls out his phone, typing away. soon he pulled up a picture of you from your instagram account, showing his stream. 

“she looks like she barely graduated highschool. she’s not one with a future, chat. just stop shipping us. i don’t like that.” he finally finishes, locking his phone and putting it down, continuing playing his game from earlier. 

you closed your eyes for a while, trying to process it all. 

“are you going to cry?” your bestfriend says from next to you. you shook your head. 

“i’m furious.” you told him, voice soft but slightly menacing. 

“holy shit. i’ve been waiting for this.” nick says, jumping in his seat. you knew exactly what he meant. 

you aren’t the type to get mad. you only got mad jokingly. and as much as you look emo and depressed all the time, you’re practically a walking sunshine, you just don’t show it due to your resting bitch face. 

and although nick and you have been friends for god knows how long, it wasn’t often he saw you mad. and it excites him to see you enraged, to say the least. to him, you always ‘pop off’ when you’re mad. 

you made sure you cooled off slightly before you go off on the man. you didn’t want to do things you would regret, after all. but to you, you didn’t think you’d regret anything at this point. 

you waited a couple days before you tweeted something. 

it was simple, your tweet. just two photos. first, it was a photo of your acceptance letter to harvard law school from a year ago, followed by a photo of you carrying thick and heavy textbooks for school that was taken by nick when he visited you in campus. 

it was captioned, “not one with a future.” simple, but it was obvious that this was going to blow up. you looked up from your phone to nick before you tweeted it. 

you two shared a smile. a grin, if you will. it was like the two of you knew what that tweet would do. 

you knew this was going to be surprising to your followers, too. you’ve never spoken about going to school after highschool. sure, if they scrolled far enough on your channel and listened through everything, they might know you skipped grades, which was the reason you met nick but most of them didn’t know. and you didn’t blame them. 

what you would blame them for is that they sat and listened to everything quackity said in that stream. they all thought you were just one dumb, depressed girl who had no future. one that relied on a social media career. 

only if they knew how wrong they are. well, that didn’t matter now. they all knew. 

that was the only tweet you sent out regarding the matter. you didn’t want to prolong it, it isn’t worth your time.

when you did stream a couple days after you sent out that tweet, your twitch viewers sky-rocketed. it was weird, almost. but they weren’t there to patronise you. the opposite, really. they said sweet words, donated generous amounts and gifted plenty of subs. 

you would answer questions as donations slowly came in. and one in particular caught you eye.

“why aren’t you in school.” the monotoned woman asked. 

“i’m not currently in school because it is closed due to the pandemic. but i’m currently attending it online.” you answered swiftly, not really focused on the question but more to the parkour you were doing. 

from time to time, your eyes glanced at your chat to see if they said anything that caught your eye, apart from the ones that bashed you for liking their favourite content creator. 

it cracked you up to see how far stans would go to protect their favourite creators. granted, it made you feel a little envious seeing how many people unfollowed you when the drama happened. you wanted to know just who would stand with you, besides your actual friends. 

“what would you describe your style?” the monotonous woman spoke once again as a donation came in. 

“thank you for the 10.” you started, and then pausing to actually think about it before you answered. 

“i think my style is a little more dark but not emo, as most people call it. i also don’t dress conservative.” you finished, feeling good about your answer. 

you were not brought up in a conservative family, so that was shown in the way you dressed. no, you never really left the house in your bra and jeans, not saying that style isn’t cute, but you never stopped yourself from showing a little bit of skin. 

you also were not the type to get insecure, so reading through comments on your posts have never really affected you. but there was something about the comment quackity said that made you rethink about a lot of things. 

you hated that feeling, though. you hated that you let a man say things about you and made you feel apologetic about it. you knew it should never be like that. why did you let a man step all over you? it irked you that you stooped so low. 

things also never got easy after the little drama. sure, you gained a little more publicity, but you felt nauseous knowing what attracted them. you’re just now constantly reminded how you got a higher number of following. 

nonetheless, you’re grateful for the platform given to you, although this wasn’t the path you chose to take. 

it didn’t take you long to recover from the tiny insecurity you found yourself having. you started not caring even more, posting even more photos of you. some might say you grew to be a narcissist. 

but you enjoyed it. it showed people just how much you grew and learnt from what happened. 

you’re glad you moved forward from it and never dwelled on the things he said about you. 

also, did you mention that quackity apologised? 

guess not. 

Part 2

#quackity #quackity x reader #quackity imagines #quackity imagine #quackity fanfic #quackity fanfiction #quackityhq

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

The Birthday Fic

Several months in the making. Started around Ruggie’s birthday (Which is why he’s the opener) completed long past my own birthday.

Content warning for coarse language, sexuality, mentions of illness and the medication needed for managing it, and getting wildly horny to a point that even I was impressed with myself.

As always, there’s more in my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag, send me a message if you liked it! (I know what the birthday gifts were from most everyone, even if not mentioned in-fic.)

~*~*~*~

"I'm sorry dude, what did you say? You ears started going and I just tuned the fuck out."

"I said, 'when's it your turn to have the school-run birthday party?' It's got it be soon." Ruggie's intentionally twitching his damn ears, has to be, and you had to physically shield your eyes to be able to answer properly.

"I don't fucking know, man, I need to have a birthday for that."

"Everyone has a birthday."

"Yeah, but I don't know when mine is."

"Can't Crowley tell you? He's got all kind of magic."

You sighed. "He tried that, so I could remember my proper name. He can't even get a year fix."

"That fucking sucks, Yuu." Ruggie passed you a pop can before cracking open one himself. "You should get one of these, too."

"Ah, maybe Riddle will take pity and dedicate me a specific Unbirthday party." What was this, melon? Not bad.

"That's not the same because you won't get loot."

"Yeah, you wanna go through fifty boxes of chocolates to get rid of all the ones with potion-of-suck-your-dick? I'm good."

He scrunched his nose in disgust. "People still trying love spells on you?"

"Not as much, but I still get Mal to check them over for me. He's good about that."

"He just doesn't want to share."

"Shush."

"It's true!" He stopped for a moment. "Does he know you don't have a birthday?"

"He hasn't realized yet and you're not going to tell him."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu?"

"Trey?" You blinked up at him. You didn't talk as much as you'd like to, mostly because every time he showed up your mouth rapidly filled with whatever treat he'd just made.

"What do you like best for cake?"

"I will literally eat anything that you put in front of me if you make it, even if it's full of shit I hate."

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay, new angle. What don't you like?"

Oh boy, he better prepare himself. "Fondant tastes gross, modeling chocolate is white chocolate so I hate it, a cake should be cake and not mostly fucking icing and rice crispy treats, most icing's too heavy for me if it's not whipped cream- why are you writing this down."

He looked up from his notebook, blinking at you with his pleasing yellow eyes. "Because you always give thoughtful feedback to my baking and I want to make you something as a thank you."

"Oh. If that's it, I'd rather have cheesecake."

~*~*~*~

"Mon Trickster~"

"Rook, I'm trying to re-" You yelped as he squeezed your waist, and you swatted at him. "Fuck's gotten into you?"

"What, I cannot play with my sweet friend?" He'd dragged you from your seat in the library, and was now doing his damndest to twirl you around without ramming you through the tables.

"Not right now! I expect this shit from Floyd, not you." He's going to get you both kicked out of the library if he doesn't smarten up.

"Our dearest Malfeasant is playing with the Rose King right now. Besides, he lacks my talents." He stretched your arms out straight before twirling you around, your back pressed to his front.

"Is that getting away with being a shithead?" you ask as you pap the side of his face, too little force to be a slap but with a similar message of 'stop'.

"Amongst much else, my dear!" He managed to dip you low, bracing one of your legs in the air, and you wiggled out of his grasp with a thump to the floor.

"Ah, what an invitation, ma belle! But alas, I cannot. It could never be. I'll see you at lunch." And he left you there, baffled, on the floor.

You wound up getting kicked out of the library after you started shrieking in rage and kicking like a damned toddler. What the fuck was that about?

~*~*~*~

"People are being weird."

"Everyone's weird around you." If Idia's combo kept, this would be a perfect match. "You encourage it in people with your presence. It's a passive AOE. No fighting against it."

"More than normal."

"It's the curse of spring. If you aren't sneezing, you see pretty girls and get stupid." He got his perfect match, and went back to the lobby. "Even I'm not immune to simp fever and spring flowers."

"You sure? You only go outside so you don't die of Vitamin D deficiency."

He pouted at you. "Girlfriends are supposed to be nice to you, you know."

"If I stopped, you'd wonder what's wrong. Anyway, then you couldn't brag to your followers about a tsundere girlfriend."

"You're not even a tsundere! You genuinely like me even when you're mean." He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "You're maybe sadodere."

"What's that one?"

"Sadistic yet affectionate."

You opened your mouth but genuinely couldn't argue. He was too fucking cute not to be mean to! What can you say? That pwease-no-buwwy aura he got when distressed was just too much.

"Yeah." He paused, a small smile creeping across his face. "Yuu."

"Yeah?"

"You really like stripes, don't you?"

You looked down, at his blue striped shirt you were wearing. It honestly fit you better than it did him. Further down was pinstriped socks, and if you remembered, the underwear had stripes too.

"What do you think."

~*~*~*~

"Mal?" "Yes?" "Why do you have all this even if you don't wear any of it?" "I do wear earrings now, thanks to you." He dropped another oversized ring onto your finger. "The rest, I simply don't bother with unless I must appear in an official capacity."

"So I'm a special occasion?"

He smiled at you, sweet and genuine. "Always."

"Then why am I your jewelry rack today?" So many necklaces. So many rings. There'd be a crown on your head, too, if the crowns for Draconias weren't essentially elabourate chains hanging off the horns.

"Perhaps I enjoy seeing you wearing my things. You wear Shroud's all the time." He was slowly going through a box of rings, trading them on and off your fingers after puzzling over them.

"Your clothes are tailored, and I'm too big around." You thought for a moment. "So, Mal."

"Yes?"

"Are you planning on something you aren't telling me?"

He blanched and immediately went shift eyed. "Of course not."

You took a breath. "I'm gonna say no."

"Yuu-"

"I'm pretty sure your grandmother would eat me alive if I said yes."

"No!" He made a shushing guesture. "I... am planning something. But not a proposal, my goodness, that would be too much pressure for you and would splinter the kingdom." He sighed. "Even if I would like it."

"I know you would. What are you planning."

"No."

"Yes, tell me."

"It's a surprise. You'll get it at some point in the future."

You thought back to some of the stranger events of the past few weeks. "... is it a birthday party, Malleus."

"Nnnnnnoooooooooooooo?" His face was a desperate, wide-eyed mask of please-believe-me.

"Yes it is."

"I didn't say that."

"You might as well have!"

"It's not." He wasn't even facing you anymore, knowing his face would betray him.

You took a deep breath. 

"I can keep pretending I don't know. I mean, if you want to throw a surprise party, I can't really stop you. And anyway," you added, "If I don't have a set birthday, there's no way I can know exactly when it's coming."

He relaxed, slightly.

"Don't get me a ring, though."

He chuckled. "That does have implications, doesn't it."

"Don't it, though?"

"I was checking what colours were most flattering for you." He finally turned around, all warm smiles. "I should have known. They all look lovely, because you're the one wearing them."

"Stop." You could feel you cheeks reddening. "If it helps, gold doesn't make my ears act up."

~*~*~*~

When you walked to your dorm one warm day, after school, you simply could not see the building for the brambles grown up since you left this morning.

"Yuu?"

"Grim?"

He squinted at you, unimpressed. "Your prince boyfriend has lost his fucking mind. Why'd he do this?"

"I think I know." You looked in amongst the branches, which held no roses, but something better. You plucked off a blackberry and held it to your little shoulder monster.

"Ew, no. I want tuna."

"Suit yourself." There was a path, and if you got on tiptoes, a tent half-hidden behind the briar. "You ready for a party, Grim?"

"What? What party?"

You shifted him from your shoulder to your hip as you walked along, careful of your sore arm. "They decided I needed a surprise party because I don't have an actual birthday. Figured it out like two... three? weeks ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He stopped, looked away, and bristled. "Why didn't they tell me?!?"

"Because you can't keep a fucking secret?"

He yelled and scrambled to the ground. "Hey assholes why didn't you tell me I better be getting presents too-" He's already out of sight, and you can't stop laughing at him. It's better like this, when he's himself.

~*~*~*~

Why is Everyone here. There's a huge stack of presents, there's a buffet table, there's chairs, there's - 

"Shrimpie's here!" And then everyone converged with enough words that it was just a wall of sound; mystery hands leading you to a chair, someone was trying to stick a hat on you -

"Wait!"

People only stepped off and quieted because your voice cracked. Idia, hiding in a corner, managed to raise sympathetic eyebrows before whispering something into Azul's ear.

"I gotta go inside for like, five minutes, I'll be right back." And off you went.

~*~*~*~

"You don't seem the type to do drugs."

You looked up and laughed. "Well, Vil, I gotta get through the day somehow." You shook out two pills and poured a glass of water.

"What are they for?" He leaned against the doorway, as though it wouldn't cover his clothes with splinters and dust.

"These," you said as you pointed to the two in your hands "are anti-nausea. They're new."

"How many of those do you take?" He nodded towards the other bottles on the counter. “I didn’t see them during training.”

"Well," you said, as you started to number them off on your fingers. "I started the first ones after Eliza, to help stabilize my organs, the second ones were immunity-boosting after my pneumonia, I started taking vitamins after that as well, I got sleeping pills for nightmares after Jamil blotted - they don't always work, but hey - and, well." You shook your current bottle. "Your curse vapours are pretty good, it turns out."

He blanched, and you backpedaled. "You weren't yourself, and I only have to take these before meals now. I had to get IVs in the morning for a few days, I couldn't keep... wait, wait, shit, no, I'm sorry, don't make that face -"

Vil crossed the distance, putting his face very close to yours. "You should have told me."

"Why make you feel even worse, man?"

"Because I could have formulated something better for the damage." He flicked your nose, more exasperation than malice. "Cures and poison go hand in hand. I can't fix what was done if I don't know."

"Taking care of my medical woes is not your job, Vil."

"You don't get to tell me what is and isn't my job." He squeezed you close with one arm. "You're just an exhausting little potato."

"I'm a delicious little sweet potato that you can't resist."

He sighed, exhausted. "Yes you are. Now take your pills and stop with secrets."

~*~*~*~

"What kept you?"

"Had to make sure there's room in the fridge for all your food, Trey." He hadn't chosen one cheesecake - he had at least two dozen varieties of bite sized miniatures, labeled by flavour and potential allergens. "You were busy."

"Well, I felt like experimenting. I hope you don't mind."

"You're the one doing me a favour." You looked around, everyone chatting idly with one another. "Where's Mal."

"..."

"I swear to fucking god if he didn't get an invitation to the party he helped organize-"

~*~*~*~

It turns out he'd left to fetch an obnoxiously large bouquet of flowers, the scent so overpowering you thought your chair might tip from the force of it.

"You do enjoy them?" Mal was so cute when unsure.

"Yes, dear." As long as people didn't crowd in again. Lately, you can only take so much sensation before your brain shorts out and you start yelling. "Set them on the table, I'll have to start on them later." Hairspray and an arid room would have those dried within the week.

"Which part of the celebration will we start with first?"

"I don't know. It's my party but you're the ones throwing it. Where's Grim?"

He pointed over to one of the set up tables, where Grim sat in a pile of wrapping paper, furiously kick-scratching at a wriggling toy fish as big as he was, while Cater filmed. "We realized a few days ago he'd be unhappy if he didn't get his own presents."

"Aww. Is there catnip in that?"

He leaned in conspiratorially. "We're not supposed to have any on campus because Kingscholar is susceptible to it."

You went right past normal laughter straight to wheezing.

~*~*~*~

So far, the highlights were: A mycological photobook from Jade big enough to crush someone's head with (that he cheerfully wrote as such on the inside flap), an enormous multipack of slipper socks from Ruggie (with a note saying it was a return on the doughnut-patterened ones you'd given him for his own birthday) and a parure set from Floyd, crafted from thousands of woven seed pearls with carved coral feature beads that was frankly obscene in the amount of money it must have cost. (He, of course, said it was worth it as long as you wore it for him, and simply laughed when you quipped that he meant with clothing right?)

The rest was fantastic, still - various books and movies, a pretty glass vase from Ace stuffed with wildflowers, fine silk dresses from Kalim and a simple belled bracelet tucked in, from Jamil. Currently, you were opening a basket from Vil.

"Oh, wow," you meant with sincerety as you pulled out a light, fragrant soap. "You make this yourself?"

"Yes. There's soaps, shampoo, conditioner, perfumes, lotions..."

You smiled at him sweetly. "You saying I stink, Shoenheit?"

He mirrored your smile right back at you. "Be sure to use them."

"... I'm going to kill you," you said, laughing, as you lobbed the wrapping paper at his face.

~*~*~*~

"Az?"

"Mm?" He was watching with amusement as you looked the jacket over, a lovingly tailored frock coat in periwinkle wool and shell toggles.

"Are you sure this'll fit?"

"Of course." He guestured down the table to Rook, who waved. "He checked your measurements."

"When did-" Ohhhhhh. Oh. Alright. "I'm surprised he couldn't tell by just looking."

"I could, mon ange! But that was more fun!"

~*~*~*~

Malleus barely hid his pout when sliding his box over to you, and it didn't take you long to guess why. "Floyd's jewels really show yours up, huh."

"Perhaps," he said, pointedly not looking at the boy currently playing with Grim.

"Yours are more special because they're from you." When unwrapped, the box was stunning; carved walnut with shell inlaid curlicues. "My god, how old is this?"

"Older than I am," he said with a smile.

"How old is that, Mal."

He just kept smiling, and you rolled your eyes and opened the box to reveal a piece far, far different than the frothy confection Floyd gave you. A single, sizable brooch of gilt and enamel, a tiny faerie woman staring up at you with imperious emerald eyes, she was so lovingly crafted you could see the tension of her muscles and the hair between her legs.

"This piece is only a hundred and fifty years old," he said mildly. "The artist lives in the Valley of Thorns, and created it in the image of her lover." His smile was fond, and sweet. "They're still together to this day. Even if we may not last so long, I hope that it can be as strong."

The sentiment was enough to make you tear up.

~*~*~*~

Several tissues and a bat-shaped blanket from Lilia later, Idia pulled out a large box. And another, and another.

"Uh, Idia."

He just turned red as he stacked another box.

"Dude, holy fuck. What did you do?"

"Looked at your wishlist on your shopping websites." He's flickering pink at the tips of his hair. "Couldn't decide."

"I told him to just get them all!" Ortho looked wildly proud of himself. "Some of them are from me."

You blinked several times. "I thought the sites broke." You started feeling faint. "Idia."

"Yes?" He finally brought out one last box, easily two thirds your height, and set it in front of you.

"Some of those dolls were... so much madol."

He was shifty-eyed. "Yeah."

"Some of the outfits were themselves more than some of the dolls on those wishlists."

Despite the redness, his face was still. "Yeah."

"Oh my god." You're already sitting down, but you need to lie down. "That's too much money."

"It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"Why do you have so much money one of those sites alone was at least a million madol's worth of-"

"Please just open the boxes," he said in a strained voice. "I don't want them all staring."

You take your shaking hands to start unwrapping, mentally trying to figure out which rooms in the building were sound enough to hold obscene amounts of porcelain, resin and plastic. By the time you were done, there were over forty of varying shapes and sizes with complete wardrobes for each; the last not even on any list - that was an art piece near as tall as you, a fine bone china girl with golden curls and knowing eyes from an artist whose work did not go for less than five million madol even firsthand. Your vision greyed at the sight of her, and when you came to your senses, everyone breathed a sigh of relief before spending the rest of the evening treating you as something at least as delicate and precious as her.

~*~*~*~

It's just past sunset, and guests are still milling about. You're not really looking at them, though - you're losing your little friend.

Grim's only himself in daylight, now. Once the night hits, he goes back to the strange, feral thing that laid your wrist open to eat a chunk of solid ink. He's gone twitchy, wordless, pacing with his now headless robot fish in his mouth, before finally tearing through the brambles to god-knows-where.

"... I don't know what to do about it. He doesn't come back at night anymore. What if he doesn't come back at all one night?"

"I won't let that happen." Idia was draped over the back of your chair, idly playing with the wrapping on your wrist. You couldn't see his face, but a curious tension was clear in his voice. "How many of those crystals has he eaten?"

"All of them, as far as I know." There may have been one on the camping trip that you were mercifully excluded from; thankfully your restraining order against Vargas meant that Grimm had been allowed to attend by himself. Good thing, too, your period had arrived weeks early. "Do you think it's like mercury poisoning? The effects get worse as more collects in his body?"

"Maybe. It's something to look into."

You snorted, lightly. "What do you know about it?"

"... Less than I'd like." Before you could ask, he leaned down to your ear to whisper, "I'd rather know you."

"What, now?" You looked around at the tables. "There's still people here-"

You barely stifled a cry when he nipped at your earlobe. "I put on something nice for you~" You could hear the smirk in his voice as he played every trick in his book to goad you. "Unwrap me and see~"

It took every ounce of self control in you to not throw him down on the table and take him right there, in front of God and every student in the school.

~*~*~*~

"I'm too late, I see."

"Close that damned door before everyone hears."

Malleus obediently shut the door to the balcony before setting his slotted pillow on the dresser. "They couldn't even if they had their ear to the door, I soundproofed all our rooms months ago."

"Aren't you clever. Did they buy the excuse?"

"I think that they would have believed that you were going to bed if you did not say it as soon as Shroud went inside looking very proud of himself."

You flopped back onto your pillows, eliciting a sleepy grunt from Idia. "Shit."

"And if you didn't trip on the stairs in your haste."

"Now you're making fun of me."

"Perhaps," he smiled, sitting at the foot of your bed and idly stroking your leg.

"So, why didn't you tail up after us?"

"I am, if I try very hard, capable of some discretion, even when it comes to you," he huffed. "And anyway, someone had to see everyone off, get everything put away, and bring the gifts inside."

Your face fell. "I'm sorry-"

He crept up to put a finger to your lips. "It was very simple. Now," he pressed himself against you and turned to look at Idia's drowsing form, "what is this?"

You snickered lightly to yourself. "I think he found my browsing history." All you'd left on him was a fine pair of silk stockings, with delicate stripes from thigh to toe. You'd never thought he'd even consider wearing something like that, but your pretty blue boy was so full of surprises.

Malleus hummed to himself as he reached out a hand, dragging a finger along one bruised hip. Idia only sighed and fluttered his lashes, and Mal let out a stuttering gasp.

"Do you think," he whispered, voice hoarse, "that if I took these off with my teeth, that he would still stay asleep?"

You felt faint at the thought. "I don't know, but let me watch you try."

~*~*~*~

You awoke, later, to Idia sitting with the blankets pooled around his waist, five of his blue screens open. You couldn't make much sense of them, too sleepy to make out the letters on their obnoxious brightness, so you reached out both hands to squeeze his waist.

He yelped and scowled at you. "Go to sleep."

"No, you." The screens weren't making any more sense, but there was, briefly, a picture of Grim. "What are you working on?"

"I'm almost done," he said, which was not an answer but you were too tired to notice, so you reached up his back to wind a few locks of hair around your hand - and pulled, which lead to another annoyed yelp as he quickly saved and closed his work. "Just say you're weak to light attacks instead of doing that."

"You know I am." When he finally laid back down beside you, you put your face to his chest, as much to block out the light from his hair as for warmth and comfort. No wonder he slept so poorly, he literally gave off blue light every hour of the day, that only dimmed once he was already asleep. "Tell me about it later, okay?"

"Later," he said, and you drifted off between your two boys, which was almost as nice as sleeping with Grim in your bed, but this would have to do until he got better.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfiction #malleus draconia #idia shroud #twst grim

[creativeashproductions]

Magician Behind the Music // Owen Joyner

sagSummary: Being in a studio recording songs is an intimidating experience for anyone regardless of age. Wanting the best in the business for his soundtrack Kenny Ortega brings his cast to the best in the business. Heading the production is no ever than Y/N with a certain sparkle when it comes to the tall blonde.

Warning: Swearing, insecurity, oblivious!reader and fluff

Words: 2.1k

A/N: I know nothing about producing songs so I ended up winging it. About time I make a fic for Owen

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

The studio had the sound of music as a group of people walk down the hall of the building that housed world-renowned recording studio. The office chair was leaning back as a figure sat listening to the nearly finished album. Forest green Sanuk slip-on shoes on the feet of the individual the door opening wasn’t heard.

“Girls you wanna hear the finished product?” You questioned from your seat behind the large control panel. The four girls on the video chat excited responded enthusiastic band members.

Not needing anymore push the song replaced the one that had been playing as background noise. Sliding the volume up the music, you had both produced and featured played through the speakers. As the pre-chorus and the chorus came, you couldn’t help but start singing.

 I find peace in every story you told

 I think of you, I’ll never be alone

 It’s true, true, true

 You know I do, do, do

 Oh, I need you more than words can say

 Oh, you save me in ways that I can’t explain

 Always been there for me, now I’ll do the same

 Oh, I need you more than words can say

All five that poured themselves on the song couldn’t help but bop along with the catchy words and beat. By far, one of your most favourite songs you ever co-wrote, feature and produce. You and little Mix had been desiring to co-work on something for years now.

“That pre-chorus and chorus are the favourites of my career!” You excitedly announced glancing up the glass separating the booth from the control room. Your face found a handful of young adults and Kenny in the reflection.

“It’s gonna be a bop to sing!” Perrie agreed with her hair in messy space buns sitting at her computer desk in comfy clothes.

Jesy, Leigh-Anne and Jade wore similar loungewear in the safety of their homes after travelling out of LA back to England. An entire week spent solely on writing music and recording with a few sleepover nostalgic of the teen years.

“I gotta go. My next clients are here.” You told the excited British girl group before your cursor ended the video chat.

Pushing off with your toe on the floor, you faced the group seated taking in the awed expressions from the song. Part of you is annoyed at the blatant disregard of professionalism and the potential of the song being leaked.

“Charlie, Owen, Jeremy, and Madison this is my friend Y/N. She’s a musician, songwriter and a producer.” Kenny spoke, waving towards your seat position at the forefront of the control panel.

Your eyes gleamed brighter with the teal blue cable knit sweater paired with a pair of fitted blue jeans. The pros of being a producer in a recording studio meant the work attire was relaxed compared to desk jobs. It appeared this group was similar.

“Hello.” You spoke standing up to be closer to the group, “I believe you have a soundtrack needed? I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’d like to ask that the song you overheard not be spoken about again.”

“I’m Charlie.” The brunette with a white hat put on backwards immediately shook your hand. Even with the hat, you could tell his hair was a gorgeous brown that contrasted his pretty eyes hazel green eyes.

“Hi Charlie.” You smiled at the male before stepping around him to the other three people in the room. The only other girl in the room was most definitely the lead of whatever show Kenny was currently doing.

“You’re Madison.” You spoke, taking in her youthful appearance and the quiet wisdom flowing within her eyes, the colour of dark coffee grounds. Her hair was down in her natural texture, resting on the shoulders of her muted olive green shirt.

“Jeremy.” Came from the shorter boy with startling rich dark brown almost black hair and eyes you couldn’t discern between blue or green. His cheeks a permanent pink flush but an infectious grin, “How are you?”

“My collaborators for a song liked it, and I’m not going to explain what you’ll be doing in the booth.” You replied gesturing to the enclosed space with the microphone and a stand of instruments.

Brushing off any other details you finally came to the only nameless individual in the room with the only blonde head of hair.

“Owen.” The blonde spoke softly with his eyes nearly begging to leave your expression with the anxiety building. This was so new for Owen, and unlike anything, he had ever experienced before in his life.

“Take a seat.” You motioned towards the long couch against the wall opposite the recording booth. It was a plus that extended couch perfect for a short nap after a near all-nighter. Your studio was the only one with such a good sofa.

“I’ve worked with Kenny on his Descendants series with the cast along with strictly only musicians. I say this with respect with Kenny, but if you don’t respect me or my process, I won’t hesitate to end this. It’s in the contract.” You sternly told the young individuals, “That being said. Your voice is an instrument that needs to be cared for. You need to be careful with it.”

The vocal coach dove into a more detailed list of the items not to be ingested by actors. The same thing happened with every new client you met after the horror film of a massacre a few years previous. As they went over, you looked over the schedule.

The binder was thick with the different songs in the series with jot notes in the margins. Kenny sat in the other chair, looking at them.

“So, Jeremy is the only one with experience?” You questioned glancing up at your elder with a look of curiosity. Kenny nodded with a fond smile, “Okay so let’s get his vocals for the first song recorded. That way, the others have a first-hand look at how it happens.”

Jeremy was quick to rid himself of his jacket to slide into the booth with the headphones resting on only one ear. In two hours, you had guided Madison and Charlie through their parts of this session. Your mouth opened to invite Owen into the booth but his demeanour concerned you.

“Kenny, how about we take a break for lunch?” You subtly guided Kenny to look at Owen before he quickly agreed.

Charlie was practically skipping out of the recording studio with his hands nudging Jeremy on his way out. Madison, led by her father, left right after leaving Owen to just about exit the room.

“Hey Owen?” You spoke, bringing the tensed young man’s attention, “Can you give me a moment?”

His head of thick blonde hair hesitantly nodded as Kenny followed the other cast members out of the room. Gently nudging the door closed you guided him to sit on the couch with you stationed in the office chair.

“First time recording is a bitch of pressure. I completely understand because I’ve guided people and been guided in the booth.” You began leaning forward to meet his eyes, “I know as someone with anxiety it’s intimidating. Let me know. Whatever you tell me will stay between us.”

Owen was quiet, “I’ve done other projects. I’ve never had the opportunity to have a role as a drummer. I guess this is overwhelming.”

“How about you hop into the room, and we mess around with a song?” You questioned, “I can show you how I produce if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.” Owen’s lips curved just a fraction into a ghost of a smile with the tension in his shoulders melting.

For the next two hours, you spent time in the booth explaining the equipment’s role in the recording. After he gave a short lyric, you invited him to sit by the soundboard with you to walk him through it. All the while, you shared the pizza you had ordered for both of you.

 “I started in the business as background vocals for a few bands before I delved into my own career as a musician. I believe I was about seventeen when I got to be part of people getting the songs ready for fans. I fell in love and find it more fun behind the soundboard.” You informed the blonde listening to a recent song you had finished.

“This is insanely cool. I think I’m ready to record my parts.” Owen admitted playing with his fingers. In response, you typed out a quick message to Kenny, bringing the other people back after a long break.

As much as you would have loved creating the soundtrack, it wasn’t possible with your other commitments. Leaving the work in Alana’s capable hands, you had been packing for your visit to the UK for performing the song with Little Mix. Owen, having the day off, had found himself in your apartment as he had for the last few weeks.

“Do you really have to go?” Owen whined, staring at with his head tilted back on the couch. Lips pursed in a pout and blue eyes shining sadly.

“As much as I would adore falling for that look, we both know I have to.” You admitted dropping packing to snuggle into his side, “What’s up with you lately?”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, rolling his head on the back of the couch you look at you. From the position, he couldn’t see your face, but that didn’t stop him from staring.

“It’s hard to describe, but you get flustered when certain songs come on. You’ve been ditching the cast to spend time with me.” You listed off, staring off into the distance, “You got Charlie to drive in the opposite direction of your work to pick me up.”

“What kind of songs?” Owen inquired with one arched eyebrow high. You shifted to stare up at the soft look in his pretty blue eyes.

“It was some duet from that tv series about the High School Musical films…” Your sentence trailed off as everything clicked, “You have feelings for me.”

“Thought it was blatantly obvious. I danced with you in the rain at midnight while I sang to you. I think that’s the most obvious action.” Owen chuckled brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he took in the startled expression

Owen had walked you home after a late recording session with the cast talking each other’s ear off with different subjects. His hand had slid into yours as he tugged you into the ice cream shop on the way; a scoop each. His eyes glued to every move you made with passion behind every single word.

“-they came to me about a song. It’s a surprise for Kenny, I suppose.” Your one holding the ice cream cone nearly went flying with the motion you made. Your other clasped in Owen’s without even realizing it.

“So, it’s the last song you’ll be helping us on, right?” Owen asked halting to toss the napkin from his cone in the closest bin. You followed suit while intertwining your fingers back together.

“The girls want to do a short little radio tour to promote the single. It would be a month most likely to brainstorm new ideas for songs. We’ve all agreed to collaborate in the future.” You informed the nineteen-year-old. He was a year and a half younger than you.

“When-”

Your sudden squeal cut him off as the sky opened up to a sudden pouring of rain on the two of you. Had you not been so focused on the conversation you would have seen the cloudy sky and the light drizzle of rain.

“Whoa!” Owen laughed, tugging you into his arms in a complete act of spontaneity. His voice softly singing one of your favourite songs.

As he twirled you around in the rain, he serenaded you with Edwin McCain’s song ‘I’ll Be’ unapologetically sharing a piece of himself. It seemed the universe took pity on the male by allowing him to dance smoothly with his friend.

“This is my favourite song.” You giggled as he dipped you with one of your legs in the air. The joy in your features melting the actor’s heart.

“You’ve been playing it every day for the last week.” Owen beamed, leaning his forehead on yours as he trailed off the end of the song, “I’ve memorized every lyric in it.”

With rainwater dripping down your nose the words settled in your mind cementing something you had been only slightly aware of. Playing that song often meant one thing: you had deep feelings for someone.

The someone being Owen Joyner.

“I’m kind of stupid.” You snorted turning to wrap your arms around his neck, “I’ve got no doubts I fell in love with you in that dance.”

Owen’s grin preceded a toe-curling kiss that was the first of many that would happen.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h @elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals @popcrone818 @lolychu @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit @just-a-writer-here @simp4reggie @parkeret @faithiebrock01 @overlyhypedup @differentsoulrascalsalad @aesthetic-lyss @versaceapa @carleywhittaker @lostgirl219 @itsalexx21 @elllaoo4 @merxxleighann @mediocremunge @fantomlovesjuke4ever @dpaccione @oswin05 @kaylinfayezink @aberette13 @faithie-brock-gillespie01 @eharvey0218 @overlyhypedup @benstormy @auriandthepussicats @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @whothefuckstolemykeds  @siriuswvrld​ @princessvader15​ @xoxbloodreinaxox @heimdoodle​ @joshy-obx​ @lovesanimals​ @oopsiedoopsie23​ @am3l1a-24 @flying-solo-without-you​ @jaskiers-sweetkiss​ @lostrandomfangirl​n @must-be-a-weasley-92​ @jatp-holland​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @dxlanhxlland​ @dasexydevitt13​ @ifilwtmfc @arianagrandes-things @kinda-really-lost​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​ @ssprayberrythings​​ @morgandamrose @thedarkqueenofavalon​ @zukoshonourr​ @crybabyddl @spooky-season-bitch​ @kcd15​ @morganayennefertyrell @magnet-girl​ @all-in-fangirl​ @kinda-really-lost @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @badwolf00593​ @blowakissbabe​ @talksoprettyjjx @thesweetestsinner​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @writerinlearning​ @aiofheavenandhell​ @sageellsworth05​

#owen joyner imagines #owen joyner x reader #owen patrick joyner #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp fanfic #owen joyner #jatp #julie and the phantoms #caitsy and ash productions

[sleepingcrisis]

I finished it >:) I kinda want to make a part two, but for now here you go my deprived mutuals plus anyone else who would enjoy it.

Ao3 link for those who prefer to read on there is here.

Drunk Confessions

"You could pretend I'm him you know... I wouldn't care," Joe’s voice was slurred from the alcohol as he kept his eyes away from his pink haired friend... yeah friend. "You could use me as much as you want and I would thank you for it, you could moan his name and I promise to only cry a little," he laughed it off but the tears were already forming.

"I—" Kaoru wasn't sure what to say to that. He took a breath and gently nudged the glass Joe was drinking from away from him. That was clearly enough.

"He has been gone for a year today," Joe continued and looked over to Kaoru now. Kaoru had a hard time meeting his gaze though. It was impossible. He didn't want to see the moment Joe broke.

"He has been gone for a year now," Kaoru agreed softly with a nod.

"He has been gone for a year and you don't look at anyone like you looked at him. I know I'm not him and I know I can't be him — and hey I loved him too! But fuck I have never loved anyone the way I love you. You could pretend I'm him though. You did once—"

"When did I—"

"You practiced confessing to him in highschool and asked if I would listen," Joe responded immediately. "You told me how much you loved him, but you never used his name... I got to pretend you were telling me how much you love me... pathetic isn't it?" Joe let out another pained laugh.

"Oh Joe," Kaoru whispered and sighed softly.

"Do you think you could ever love me the way you love him? Even just a bit?" He asked. He reached a hand over and clumsily cupped Kaoru’s cheek.

Kaoru looked at him. His own expression pained as he reached his hands over to cup both of his cheeks and gently hold him still.

"I do love you."

"Not like you love him," Joe countered and made a half assed attempt at pulling away from Kaoru’s touch.

Kaoru sighed softly, Joe didn't know just how wrong his thinking was. Tonight wasn't the night to confess the feelings he had for him for years.

"Let’s get you home. You're drunk Kojiro."

What could Kaoru say? He is a coward. 

“Do you remember much of last night?” he asked. Kojiro’s mother had brought them both water and currently Kaoru was gripping his glass tightly. Thumbs brushed away the condensation before he drank it again along with some medicine to ease his headache and hopefully get rid of the need to throw up.

Kojiro is still laying down which makes it easy to not look at him. His room is notably half packed. It all comes crashing back together that despite Kojiro's practical admission of love he also had said something else weeks ago. 

“No, I guess I blacked out. Did I say anything embarrassing?” Kojiro asked. Kaoru picked at the duvet on the bed. Hideous orange. Who’s favorite colour is orange? Based on the fact that none of the furniture matches, Kaoru isn’t sure Kojiro has a favorite colour despite claiming that it is orange. The desk is red, the rug is green, the duvet is orange while the pillow covers are blue and the bed sheets themselves are green. Hideous. Kaoru has always thought that Kojiro’s choice in decor was hideous. 

“No. You just seemed upset.” 

“Well I am leaving at the end of the week.” 

“Does that mean you are going to miss me?” Kaoru tried for teasing. He isn’t sure that he sounds like he is teasing the other, but Kojiro must have a really big headache because he doesn’t take notice. 

“Yeah. I am,” Kojiro whispered and it made Kaoru shortcircuit momentarily before he finished his water. He nudged the other and called him some form of ‘stupid’ before getting up and getting ready for the day. 

They don't have much time left together after all.

 

***

 

It happens again, because of course it happens again. Kojiro is back from Italy for a visit and on one of the last couple of days he is dragging Kaoru to a bar. 

“Kaoru,” Kojiro hummed and wrapped his hands around Kaoru’s waist from behind him after he had come back from the bathroom. 

“What is it, Kojiro?” Kaoru asked in the same playful tone. 

“I love you,” Kojiro said in a casual tone that made Kaoru’s entire world freeze for a moment. This wasn’t going to be like last time, was it? He couldn’t handle that again. Seeing the sunshine in his life look so incredibly miserable. 

“I love you too goof,” Kaoru replied casually as his face warmed. Friends told each other that they loved each other all the time. This was fine right? After the last time he was sure this wasn’t just a friend thing, but Kojiro was leaving for Italy again and in their last call Kaoru had heard about how Kojiro had some sort of girlfriend, granted he hadn’t mentioned her while he was here, but still. 

“You don’t get it Kaoru,” Kojiro breathed against his neck and held onto him a little tighter. Kaoru felt himself being tugged and soon they were outside. He fumbled for his pack of smokes and ignored how ridiculously big Kojiro had gotten after being away for nearly a year. He lit the smoke and kept his eyes on the pavement. Kojiro wouldn’t remember this in the morning anyway. 

“Do you want a smoke?” Kaoru asked softly, desperate to change the subject. 

Kojiro nodded but took the one from between Kaoru’s lips before taking a drag of it. Kaoru watched it happen and normally would have been pissed if it wasn’t for the fact that his brain was hyper aware of the feeling of Kojiro’s fingers against his lips for less then a second. 

“I want you to love me,” Kojiro whispered. 

“I do.” 

“No. Kaoru I want you to love me so I can hold you and touch you and kiss you and show you just how much I love you,” Kojiro whispered. Kaoru watched him shift his entire weight and soon he was boxed in against the wall of the bar with one hand against the brick he had been leaning against keeping him there. The other hand held the smoke which Kojiro took a long drag of before holding it to Kaoru’s lips so he could take one. 

Kaoru counted that as their first indirect kiss that mattered. 

 

***

 

Kaoru really needed to not drink around Kojiro anymore. It was his first night back from Italy and Kojiro wanted to get drinks. Kaoru thought he had been keeping count of his drinks enough to prevent another incident. But then Kaoru comes back from the bathroom and somehow Kojiro is plastered. Kaoru doesn't buy it this time. 

"How is your girlfriend? Are you still keeping in touch with her?" Kaoru asked and realized he never learned her name. 

"No. We broke up, I didn't love her," Kojiro said. 

"That sucks. You seemed very fond of her," Kaoru said. 

"Well there is only one person I can love," Kojiro hummed. 

Kaoru knows exactly where this is going and he will be damned if he lets it happen again. Kojiro is back. He is back for good and he promised he wouldn't leave Kaoru again. Unless they are traveling together Kaoru has zero interest in leaving. Maybe traveling isn't such a bad idea. 

"I love you," Kaoru said casually as he finished off the last of his drink before setting the glass down. His finger tips are wet from the condensation but he is able to quickly dry them when he grabs Kojiro by the front of his shirt so the other has to face him. It is practically half unbuttoned. 

"Hm?" Kojiro is clearly caught off guard by Kaoru saying it first. 

Kaoru knows that the first time this happened — the first time when Kojiro sounded so miserable — he had been drunk to the point of practically guilting Kaoru with his feelings, but last time? When Kaoru still wore his piercings and Kojiro didn't have quite as much hair, there was no way Kojiro had been drunk when he had them share a cigarette as he practically pinned Kaoru to the wall. 

"I love you," Kaoru said again. "I have loved you since middle school. No — I loved you before I even knew what the concept of love was. I love you more than I ever loved Adam. So stop hiding behind your liquid courage and love me back already," Kaoru said firmly, or at least he tried to sound firm. Instead his voice shook at the end and he turned to look away. He couldn't meet the other’s gaze. His grip on the other’s shirt loosening before his hand fell all together when Kojiro didn't immediately respond. 

Then Kojiro tilted his head so they could look at one another.

"I love you too," he breathed and suddenly he didn't sound nearly as drunk. Kaoru supposed he could never criticize his acting again.  

"Take me home?" Kaoru asked. 

Kojiro responded by gently pressing a kiss to his lips. Just the firm press of lips against one another over and over and over until they had shared many first kisses. 

"Yeah," Kojiro whispered, "let's go home." 

#matcha blossom #matchablossom #sk8 the infinity #sakurayashiki kaoru #nanjo kojiro #cherry blossom #joe

[daisyachain]

hi!! i've been reading through your ao no flag liveblogs lately and they're really interesting! i enjoy seeing someone so passionate about this manga and it makes me want to reread it .... i'm really interested in hearing what you have to say about masumi's ending though!! part of me thinks it makes sense but i'm mostly conflicted on it and would love to see it from your perspective ^^

haha well thank you! ah yes, the arc that created as much controversy as you can get in an active readership of like 10 people...

Blue Flag is an imperfect story, but it also gets a lot of flack for things that a) didn't...actually...happen, b) didn't happen in the way people think they did.

Part 1: Is it actually straightwashing?

The most common criticism I see of Masumi's ending is that she was written as a lesbian character and straightwashed at the end. Marrying off a female character as a way to 'fix' her issues is a common and harmful trope, and saying that lesbian women just need to get a man is a widespread homophobic trope and talking point. So, it's not a good look. To have a character angst over interest in a woman and end up happily married to a guy reads like a '50s pulp novel that just uses f/f attraction for marketing.

But, if the intention of the ending was to show that Masumi should give up on women and force herself to date men, then it doesn't. Mitsuyuki's description of her is 'look at my bisexual wife who has dated both women and men and could also have married a woman', which is an odd choice if the intention was straightwashing. It feels more like a clumsy way to make sure that, in a series full of ambiguity, there could be no argument that Masumi was queer. That isn't to say that cisstraight people don't view bisexuality as less/better than/straighter than her being lesbian and that making a previously gay character bisexual isn't still straightwashing (increasing the appearance of straightness).

Part 2: Was it actually a retcon?

So: Masumi's ending reaffirms that she's a WLW. One question is, was she always meant to be bisexual, or was she originally written as lesbian?

Blue Flag doesn't have a lot of straight (no pun intended) answers. Taichi never expresses any explicit attraction to guys, but there is enough subtext to suggest he's attracted to Touma well before the finale. Futaba believes she is attracted to Touma at first and is shown to be attracted to him using the visual shorthand of manga (blushing, etc.), but she later says that it was just misinterpreted admiration. Mami doesn't want to date Touma or any man, but she implies that she is attracted to Touma when she says around him she was 'glad to be a woman.' Within the main romance, Futaba says that it was specifically because Taichi was a friend to her that she grew to like-like him. The lines between friendship and romance are blurred in Blue Flag, and sometimes romance can only grow out of friendship.

Masumi has a tense conversation with Taichi in the first half after she breaks up with her boyfriend that most people (me included) read as her saying that she tried guys and she just isn't and can't be attracted to them. However, it's Blue Flag, so the conversation is unfocused and doesn't paint a complete picture.

"Even if I get a boyfriend, I can never make it work"/"I don't know why [I don't like him anymore]" seem to imply that Masumi realized that she was feeling compulsory heterosexuality and that she will never like men. "[I don't know] why he like someone like me"/"You can be friends with potential sexual partners? With both guys and girls?"/"I just wanted to hear how you men feel about [a girl liking other girls]" seem to imply that Masumi is bisexual and is afraid to date because someone might find out. Maybe she's written as questioning--she knows she likes Futaba, but she's feeling out other possibilities. It's Blue Flag, so it's unclear.

Part 3: How does it work with Masumi's arc?

Diving further into Masumi's story, she acts as a foil to Touma (and Futaba, see later). Touma feels free to show his affection for Taichi as a friend as well as a love interest and almost confesses to him of his own free will, well before he's forced to. Touma tells her that he intends to try and set Taichi up with Futaba (because they would be good for each other), and also that he intends to pursue Taichi in some way. He tells her he's "not like [her]."

For Masumi's part, she tells Touma that she wants to express more affection for Futaba--not necessarily in a romantic way, just to participate more fully in that relationship--but she's afraid to, she doesn't feel confident enough to try, and that she's "the worst" because of it. We see this theme repeated, that Masumi is pessimistic, is afraid to trust people and hates herself for being afraid. Her conversations with Aki and Mami explore this; Aki tells her that it's not bad to be insecure or unready and that it's fine to keep a secret/stay closeted until she's ready, Mami tells her that she does have people she can trust, who care about her and who will do their best to understand her and help out. Why am I typing all this out? Because Masumi is a bitter, insecure wlw and that is an Established Trope, but her twist on it is that her negativity or bitterness isn't over her attraction to women/to Futaba or even over the reaction she might get from others (as Touma's is), it's over her own insecurity. Like Futaba, she's hesitant to act on her feelings, and like Futaba, she gets frustrated and hates herself for her own inaction.

All that is to say--Masumi is never shown to have a problem with her attraction to women. Her angst isn't gayngst, she's not ashamed of her feelings for Futaba bur rather her inability to express them. Her problems are with social attitudes and more with her own personal feelings--she and Touma face similar problems, but Touma is simply aware of the consequences (being roughed up and ostracised by a certain group of people) while Masumi feels a more generalized and ambiguous fear.

If Masumi were shown to have mixed feelings about her queerness/were shown to be in denial/were shown to be trying to move on from Futaba, then her ending would read more as straightwashing. As it is, there's nothing in her character and arc to say that she'd ever want to erase that part of herself or get rid of it, rather, she wishes she could embrace it but she just doesn't feel confident in doing it. Her ending shows her as an openly bisexual woman who is out to her friends and husband at the very least, which is a completion of her arc in the manga (of learning to trust other people and express her feelings honestly).

Part 4: What context clues does the rest of the series give us?

This is branching off a little from the strict text of Parts 1-3. As I've said, as we know, Blue Flag is 50% subtext and interpretation. Characters speak, but they don't say what they mean, characters think, but they're not always honest with themselves or in tune with reality. Mami is an ominous and antagonistic figure in the first half, but then it just turns out that Taichi was jumping to conclusions. Taichi is the main character and narrator, but we get radio silence from him for like 7 chapters after the climax. Taichi is bisexual, but the reader has to guess that from the way the art style shifts between PoVs, the similar panelling between Futaba and Touma's confessions, the things he does and does not think about Touma and how he feels about them. It's safe to say that there is room for speculation.

First, there is no explicit evidence that Taichi could be bisexual before ch 54. It's easy to tell that he is, but again, there's nothing specific. Some people reading Blue Flag have said that him marrying Touma was out of character, unforeshadowed, bizarre, inexplicable, etc. because their experienced is coloured by their own heterosexuality. Masumi is shown to have dated a guy and in saying she didn't like him "anymore," implied that she did like him. Her conflicted feelings over her bf could well have been foreshadowing her liking men as well, and my reading that as comphet could have just been my own experience colouring the text. Who knows! Taichi's bisexuality was intentional from the start but could be read as a last-minute twist, so why not Masumi's?

Second, Mitsuyuki is Futaba 2.0. Same colouring, same personality. This could feel like a way of saying "Masumi just needs to like guys instead," but to me it reads deeper with some of the trans subtext around Futaba. One of my issues with Blue Flag is that it doesn't go further into Futaba's admiration/envy for masculinity and her uncomfortable relationship with femininity. As a cis woman who wants to be buff and mildly masculine, I can understand why she's a cis girl throughout and I don't necessarily think that she was supposed to be a trans guy. However, her relationship with masculinity draws a parallel to Mitsuyuki. Reading Mitsuyuki as a cis man, he is the combination of Futaba's personality and looks with her 'ideal form.' So, Masumi marrying Mitsuyuki can read as Masumi marring Ascended FutabaTM.

Third, Futaba having a faceless prop husband is interesting in the context of Mitsuyuki getting a name and personality. Mitsuyuki = Futaba and Mr. Kuze is a blank space, so the reader is prompted to reduce the scenario and slot Masumi into that blank space. Given Masumi and Touma's history as foils, I'm inclined to think that Mitsuyuki exists to show the road not taken. Back at the fireworks, Touma tells Masumi that he hasn't given up on Taichi, and Masumi says she doesn't intend to pursue Futaba even though the pining is making her miserable. Given that Futaba reacts a lot better to the idea of Masumi liking her than Taichi reacts to the idea of Touma liking him, given that we see Masumi has successfully wooed male!Futaba, I think that Masumi's ending shows that she could have ended up with Futaba if she chose to pursue her. She didn't and she still got a happy ending where she is confident in her sexuality and unafraid to trust, but she could have also had a happy ending where she married Futaba. Mitsuyuki is a man because desire-for-masculinity is a key aspect of Futaba's character, and Mitsuyuki is a named character with a personality because KAITO wanted the reader to know that Masumi could have ended up with Futaba (as Touma ended up with Taichi).

Fourth, KAITO's notes on volume give us a few hints. He comments that there was remarkably little interference with his story and that he was able to tell it as he wanted, and that the ending was meant to be a "question" to the reader. The way I see it, Masumi's ending wasn't meant to say "maybe you'll be fixed if you get a man" but rather was meant to complement Taichi's ending and say "things happen in ways you might not expect, but that doesn't mean they're bad."

Fifth, Touma/Taichi ending up together shows us that the series is willing and able to show queerness as a good thing and a happy ending, so it's unlikely that Masumi was meant to come off as "actually she just needed a man" and more as "life can be unpredictable but you can always find happiness"

Summary

It's unclear whether Masumi was written as a bisexual woman or a lesbian woman or a questioning wlw

I personally read her as a lesbian and I wish that part of her character had gotten more exploration

Masumi's ending wraps up her arc (struggling to trust other people with her feelings in general and her queerness in particular) in a satisfying and logical way

Masumi being bisexual does not in any way negate or lessen her identity and experienes as a wlw, bisexual people still face external and internalized homophobia and all the associated issues

Masumi's bisexuality may well have been foreshadowed, but the execution makes it easier to read her as a lesbian, which makes her ending seem like a homophobic cop-out in the style of the Hays Code

Masumi's ending doesn't straightwash her and goes to unusual lengths to affirm her attraction to women

Masumi's ending seems to be written to contrast Touma's ending, showing that getting or not getting the love interest depends entirely on whether you choose to pursue them

It's unlikely that authorial intent was to straightwash Masumi

#ao no flag #blue flag #itachi masumi #masumi itachi #kelsey liveblogs ao no flag #that 8 volumes of a manga where nothing happens could be so complicated...