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peachiemilkytea · 6 months

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ᴘʀɪᴢᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀ

Pt 1 , Pt 2

Summary: you’ve always worked at Frebear’s diner as an engineer. Since your dad is long time friends with Henry Emily. Though life gets overwhelming with home life and work.

Parings: Michael Afton x Reader

Warnings: slowburn, semi strangers to enemies to lovers, more so strangers to friends to lovers, mention of Y/N, AFAB!reader,

A/N: I am so excited to be bringing this series onto Tumblr. I am a little nervous considering this is the first series I am purring onto tumblr- please enjoy! I love hearing about critical criticism from others. Tumblr writers are like.. deities to me so 😭 I’m really nervous.

WC: 28K

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In greek mythology, humans had four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. Zeus split them into two separate people. They long for their other have. they throw themselves into relationships to search their lives for their other halves. A woman who was split from a woman looks for her other half, a man who was split from a man looks for his other half, and a man who was split from a woman looks for his other half. When a person meets their other half they are struck by their senses of love. A sense of belonging to one another. They don't want to be seperated from each other, not even a moment. The soul of every lover longs to be whole. We look for our other half to find ourselves. This is apart of Aristophanes Tale of Love.

I hope I can find my other half soon so I can get out of this house. I muffled myself further into my pillow. Making it cover my ears. Yet no matter how much I rolled back and forth I'm still hungry! I sighed and got up from my bed. Passing by my mirror. My hair was a bird's nest. I strike a pose in the mirror with a smile. Then walked downstairs where all the noise was coming from.

In the kitchen was my mom leaning on the kitchen counter. A red turtleneck, fluffy curly outward hair, and mom jeans with a belt. Another woman known as my best friend's mother, Darlene Jo. Brunette big curly hair going down to her shoulders with bangs leaning to the side. Chestnut eyes with natural shadows. In a green striped suit jacket, a collared ruffle shirt, and a pendant on the collar. A black skirt with black heels. Sitting at the table. Always a sweet face. Gossiping like they always do.

"Mom, do we have anything to eat?" I whined annoyingly.

"Did you look, Dottie?" Mom says calling me by my nickname. I opened the fridge, looked at it, then closed it again. I turned to my mother, holding out my hands to the fridge. My mother looked down and shook her head.

"Oh (Y/n)! You're becoming so big, how old are you sweetie?" Darlene asked.

"I'm nineteen," I answered causally, pulling out leftover lasagna out of the fridge. Reaching up past my mom to grab a plate. I put the lasagna on a pan and lit up the stove.

"You're growing up too fast, you've certainly grown into a young woman. Oh do you remember the times you and Cheryl would go to the park? Then you would push her on the swing? Oh memories~" Darlene swooned in memory lane with nostalgia twinkling in her eyes. I chuckled at the memory and nodded my head subtly.

They went back to gossiping. I got curious and listened in while I reheated the lasagna. Apparently a new girl named Betty just got stationed at my moms office. Going on about how Betty doesn't do her job right and bosses other people around. She would boss my mom around about what should be in the paper and what not should be. Which was just a bunch of bogus. Then my mom told her off politely, schooled her. She is a journalist. Darlene is a lawyer. I always loved listening to her cases and crime stories. Though it's classified I'm an expectation.

There was this one case where four employees were killed at Chuck E Cheese, one was injured. The shooter was Nathan Dunlap, a 19 year old former worker. He was full of rage after being fired 5 months after the incident. He went into the restaurant and ordered a sandwich then played arcade games. Dunlap hid in the bathroom till closing time. Once it was closing time he came out of the bathroom with a pistol. Dunlap shot Sylvia Crowell, she was cleaning the salad bar. She was 19. Shot closed range from her right ear. Ben Grant was vacuuming till he was shot close to his left eye. He was 17. Colleen O'Connor begged for her life on her knees till she was shot by Dunlap in the top of her head. She was 17. Bobby Stephens survived the shooting. When he came back from taking a smoke break out in the back. He thought the noise inside the restaurant was kids popping balloons. He was 20.

When Stephens came back inside he unloaded the dishwasher. Though Dunlap came through the kitchen door and shot him in the jaw. Stephens played dead. Dunlap made Marge Kohlberg unlock the safe. She was 50. Once it was opened Kohlberg was shot in the ear. He took the money and shot her in the other ear after he saw her move. The manager that fired him wasn't there. Stephens escaped through the back door. There was an apartment complex, Mill Pond. He alerted the people there that others had been attacked and shot. He was hospitalized at Denver General Hospital. When the police arrived they found the bodies. Crowell was half alive and they hospitalized her. Though she was brain dead and died from her injuries in Aurora Regional Medical Center.

Dunlap ran away with 1,500 dollars of cash and game tokens. He was arrested at his mothers apartment a few hours later. Darlene actually met Stephens and Dunlap. She got more facts on the shooter and the full story from the survivor. She said how he was behind bars when she interrogated him.

Nathan Jerard Dunlap, born April 8, 1974, was raised by his adoptive father and biological mother, who married each other when Nathan was a few months old. He had never met his biological father. His mother had schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. Atleast twice in Dunlap'slife, he tried to commit suicide.When Dunlap was 14, his adoptive father asked the psychologist at Overland High School to evaluate him, and testing revealed signs of hypomania. Scary stuff, I know. I don't know how Darlene does these cases.

"Vivian, don't worry about that girl. Sometimes we need to put up with arrogant people." Darlene says, taking a sip of her coffee. I noticed my mom's coffee on the counter next to me. I slowly snuck my hand over to her coffee. It looked good! I wanted a sip! Mom smacked my hand away. I jumped away holding my wrist jokingly offended.

"I guess you're right, Dottie, you left your comic books all over the table in the living room." Mom said, stroking my cheek and holding my chin.

"I'll go clean it in a second mom, Darlene what's been happening? Any cases?" I asked, rubbing my hands together.

"Nothing you need to know Missy, that is until Viv leaves." Darlene winked, leaning her cheek on her hand. My mom gasps dramatically and holds her hand on her chest.

I chuckled and left the kitchen. There was a pile of my magazines on the coffee table. I groaned at the sight. Since when did I become such a slob? It's fun being a slob though. Lazing around all day. Now that's the dream. I picked up my comics. It consisted of Akira, Vampirella, Daredevil, Spider man, and etc. The phone rang on the nearest coffee table next to the couch. I dropped my comics back on the middle table. If it's another advertisement call. I picked up the phone.

"Hello?" I asked, holding it up on my shoulder and picking up my scattered comics again.

"Hello (Y/n)! Can you come down to the diner? I have some new plans to show you." My good friend Henry Emily, a close friend of mine. He was friends with my dad in high school. Henry was invited over by him to have dinner with my family. Ever since I first met him at dinner I warmed up to him. I could sneak out sometimes to see him and helped him around the diner. He is a family man, very joyful. A ray of sunshine. He always had bright ideas to make others happy and do what he loves. If he would be a flower he would be a sunflower. Sweet as honey. A teddy bear of a man. His smarts were outstanding! It always amazes me at how his brain works. My best friend!

"Yeah I can come down, I'm excited to see those plans. I'll be down there soon." I said and hung up. I dropped all my comics again and put the phone down.

"Mom! I'm going to the diner!" I yelled and ran to the kitchen. Peeking out from the hallway. I don't need permission to leave but I should at least tell her where I'm going.

"Okay Dottie be safe!" Mom said and walked over to me. Holding my face and kissing my cheek. That's going to leave a mark. She's wearing red lipstcik. My nose scrunched from all the love and affection.

"Mooommm!" I whined.

"Bye (Y/n)!" Darlene waved.

~~~~

"Thank you for coming (Y/n), I got some new ideas for the animatronic I'm working for you." Henry said, waving his hands around excitedly.

"Is this about Trickster? Oh! Now you got me all excited!" I said with a bounce in my step.

"Yes it is! I got the blue prints all ready and I was hoping you'd come and help me pick out the materials you want her to be made with." Henry asks, looking down at me. Trickster was a jester animatronic that he was making for me that is inspired off of me. This little project has been going on for months now. He led me inside his office and opened the door for me.

I looked over his desk. There were blueprints of Trickster. A clown animatronic with (h/c) (h/l) hair and a hat that has outstretched on two sides with jingle bells. The hat was (f/c) and white. Around her neck was a ruffled collar that stood out at every end. There were light reddish pinks on her cheeks and nose, red lips, and blue eye shadows. Jingle bell dangle earrings hung from her ears. A (f/c) corset with a ribbon tying in the middle. Ribbon bow straps around her arms that were also (f/c). Pearls that slung down her arms, neck, and thighs. A (f/c) tutu that pointed outwards with jingle bells on the ends of it. A lace thigh harness. Jingle bell ribbons around her wrists and thigh. Lastly was Mary Janes with white Lace ruffled socks to top it all off.

My pride and joy. I came up with this design with Henry. I remember the awe on our faces when the final design came to be. Now it's time to choose what to make it out of. What I didn't notice was how Henry was admiring me. My fingertips traced the thin lining of the blue prints drawing.

"I was thinking that for its endoskeleton we would give it a thin skeleton with all the wires connecting in the middle. The shape of it will be similar to the human skeleton. The head should be smaller than the body. The wires will make it move and the control flannel. That will be in the center. The chest capsule. The control planned will be programmed with movement and commands to give to Trickster. Then we'll have a voice box in the throat that you've picked out." Henry rambled writing what he was saying on another piece of paper next to the blueprints on top of a folder labeled 'Trickster prototype.'

"You should probably make her out of light-ish things. Nothing too heavy that the endoskeleton couldn't take. Maybe something like aluminum and steel? For the wires we can use rubber. The servos will be all around. Arms, legs, hips, you know the rest. The sphero RVR will be in the parts that most need support like the chest, legs, head, and arm. The tensorflow will be with the motherboard in the chest or it can be in the head. Either one is okay really. It's just to do tasks. The cameras should be in the eyes too. How does that sound?" I explained tapping the pencil on the desk against my lips. Moving my fingers to what parts should be where.

I learned this geeky computer and robotics stuff from my science robots club. It's an engineering club that they held when I was back in high school. I took what I learned and ran wild with it. Though I was teased for it. Always being called a nerd and being thrown in trash cans.

"You always amaze me (Y/n)," Henry said, pushing his hair back with a grin looking down at his newly made list of things I rambled about. I nodded bashfully.

"I should get back to work now but we'll hang out later (Y/n), how does a movie and dinner sound?" Henry asks, rubbing his hands together.

"Sure! I'd love to see the twins again." I beamed. Sammy would always jump in my arms and make me hold him. He would never leave even for his parents. Always a quiet little sweetheart. He would read books with me. He would sit on my lap and flip through the pages after I read them to him.

"I'm sure he and Charlie would love to see you. Now I should get back to work, we'll have it on Friday at eight." Henry said and sat down at his desk. I was leaning on it using my arms as support.

"I'll see ya later Henry," I hugged him leaning into his touch. He held me back and rested his head on mine. Henry pulled away but I was still holding onto him. He chuckled and hugged me again. I finally pulled away. I closed the door behind me.

Maybe I should go bother Will. I walked to the office that wasn't too far away from Henry's office. On the door read 'W.A." I knocked on the door and walked right inside. There William Afton sat at his desk tapping his finger on his desk while his other hand held his head stressfully.

"Sod off, I didn't even tell you to come in." William groaned not looking up from his work.

"Wow, not even a hello?" I said smirking, leaning against the doorway. He finally looked up from his work. He softened with a smile, lifting his head from his work.

My friend, William Afton. A sophisticated man. He is practical and cold. Though at the same time he is a tease. I met him through Henry. He is known as Henry's best friend and partner in the business. Henry brought me in to work to have me help around and spend more time with him. Henry introduced me to Will when he was coming out of the spring Bonnie suit. We would see each other more and more around the diner. Though he ignored me and was annoyed at me trying to talk to him every time, till I dealt with animatronic fix. I repaired the broken Spring Fredbear parts. He was actually amazed at my work! Though he wouldn't admit it, it still showed. Since then we've been friends. Let's just say, it took a year for him to warm up to me...

"Come here dearest, have you come to help us again?" William asked, his British accent slipping out. He went back to working on the papers.

"Yes I have, I just got done talking to Henry about our little project. Relax a bit, Will." I said, walking behind him and rubbing his shoulders.

"You know how I love that, duchess." He sat back leaning into my hands. When he gets stressed he gets snappy. The last thing I need is him being snappy. I love little moments like this. He's rarely showing his sweet side. I feel him relax under me.

"Now what's got you so stressed out?" I asked him palming his back. He sighed happily leaning his head back.

"Just work. I have so many papers on the company's taxes and ordering more supplies. Food for the chiefs, materials for the animatronics, more plates and silverware, and you know the rest. Just keeping the building running. It's been so stressful lately." William pauses on his words as if he was forgetting his worries.

"Adulting is hard. I feel bad for you. Why don't you take a break?" I patted his shoulder. He picked up his pen and started signing off his papers.

"Because my job is very important, (Y/n)." William said not looking up from his papers.

"When's the due date?" I asked, tilting my head.

"In two weeks." William said. I picked up his pencil and threw it far away. He looked up at me with a gruff on his face. The corners of his lip twitched.

"Oops." I said smiling. William sighed leaning back in his chair. Tapping his finger against the desk.

"Guess I'll have a break, so dearest, what did you have in mind?" William asked, putting his elbows on the table, his fingers intertwining together, and resting his hand on the back of his hands.

"Want to play cards?" I suggested pulling out his card deck in his desk side drawer. I shuffled them on his desk.

"What will we play?"

~~~~

The door slammed behind me. I was kicked out of William's office by yours truly. All because I won a game of monopoly.

Maybe I should become a millionaire.

#five nights at freddy's #michael afton x you #michael afton x reader #first tumblr fic

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coldshrugs · 2 months

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tiebreaker

pairing: io laithe / estinien varlineau setting: modern AU rating: explicit - there are a few mature scenes near the end word count: 6.1k

It's strange to be home.

Stranger still to try to define where exactly home is now that Io has two. Two beds, two sets of friends, two time zones to keep up with… Home is supposed to be a place, or, if she allows the geography to have a softer edge, a series of places and the routines formed around them. The familiar haunts one returns to again and again, seeking the comfort of nostalgia.

Three months didn't feel that long while she lived them; the new place is nice, the people are great, and she loves her work. She calls it home when she is there.

But is it? Home used to hold her mother's voice, her siblings' laughter, her father's snoring. She can't go back to any of those things. 'Home' died six years ago, and Io has been trying to claw back some essence of it ever since.

There was only one thing she was sure she missed from this place, one person. But then she stood in the kitchen with the sunset light painting half the cabinets in late summer's orange, and one thing turned into everything. Puzzle pieces of scent and sight that make her long for more of them tomorrow and every day after—the pack of cigarettes on the already open window to their fire escape; the knowledge that she can hide away in the safety of her room, surrounded by all her favorite things, if the inevitable tide of her anxiety rises high enough to drown her; and especially the smell of Estinien—of both of them—burrowed bone-deep into every room.

But the apartment is not exactly as it was when she left. It's cleaner. The blankets on the couch are neatly folded. There are no dishes in the sink. Not a shred of old mail on the table by the door. The only object even slightly out of place is one of the red plastic chairs at the small table between the kitchen and living room, stolen from their former support group when they aged out.

It's almost uncanny, before she remembers he cleans when he's stressed…

Hm.

They haven't talked about the kiss.

They haven't talked about much of anything so far.

Not when Estinien picked her up from the airport. Not back in their apartment as they readied for Y'shotla’s birthday party. Not even when they stepped out of their rooms, facing each other in the mirrored doorways, and his eyes blew wide at the sight of her dressed in the simple sundress and sneakers.

"You, uh, look really nice," he'd said. Straight forward tone and broad shoulders drawn up to his full height. But he didn't say anything else, so maybe they're leaving it where it lies.

Io has learned to live with this contactless friction. An ever-present static at the boundary of what they mean to each other. Sometimes, the hum is so quiet that she swears she is over him. Then there are times like now, in the back of their Uber, when the unspoken question churns in the space between them, fuzzy and electric, and Io reminds herself that even a hum is noise.

She has to break the ice.

"How's work going? How are the kids this year?"

"It's alright. A ton of rebellious little shits in my classes this semester, especially this set of twins."

"Are you allowed to call them that?"

It takes them a moment to find their footing, but then they can't seem to stop—

"Only when I like them. How's it going with your roommates—what are their names again?"

"Hien and Yugiri. They're sweet. Fun to hang out with. They're tidiness sticklers though, so that's kind of killing me."

"Did you watch that show I said you'd like?"

"Did you remember to water my plants?"

—And on and on until she whispers:

"I miss you. You thought I wouldn't."

Silence again, besides the pop song quietly spilling from the speakers. The driver's eyes flash in the rearview mirror before they turn the volume up, like some sound-based privacy curtain, but that is where it ends. Estinien turns his gaze to the darkening skyline around them, lips drawn up at the corner facing her.

It's hard to be disappointed when simply sitting beside him again is a comfort.

Sure, they text daily, but there is no replacement for his deadpan cadence or playfully disgruntled tone. No emoji could substitute the curves of his smiles, from the small and shy ones he tries to hide (the kind he wears now, squeezing at her heart) to the wide ones that come with an open-mouth laugh—

Her thoughts spin to the kiss. Nervous and unfinished, broken too soon because their drunk friends apparently cannot resist throwing glass bottles at the call of "beer me!" That's why she didn't get to kiss him longer, not that it would matter in the long run.

Estinien doesn't do long distance.

He told Vic as much. He cared about Vic. They dated long enough for it to matter, but in the end, Vic moved hours away, and Estinien decided they should break things off. And despite what anyone says about how he might feel about her, she's stationed on the other side of the country for the next nine months.

But he kissed her back. Oh, the way he kissed her back…

She shoots him the occasional furtive glance while his attention is elsewhere, and god, he looks good. Loose, perfectly messy hair hangs past his shoulders and softens the more severe angles of his face. His t-shirt wrinkles against the line of his well-worn jeans. Hems she has long dreamed of running her hands under…

Io's thick swallow is loud in her ears (she hopes he didn't hear it, too), and her fingers twitch on the leather seat between them. That does make a sound. A little scratch.

Estinien slides his hand across the seat, and—the static sizzles and snaps—his fingers curl into hers. He doesn't look away from the window, but he squeezes.

Her heartbeat almost hurts. She squeezes back.

Another 10 minutes and they pull up to the usual watering hole, one of those extensions of home, Redbills.

He lets go as they climb out of the car on his side, deciding to shove both his hands into his pockets. Cool.

(He's still wearing that little smile as they walk inside.)

Now, this is a place that's frozen in time. Dim light punched through with neon, an out-of-place song being played too loud, ratty stools lining the bar, and well-kept pool tables dotting the back wall. And that's to say nothing of the people.

Her friends (the first set, the ones as close as family) are scattered around the bar. Lucia and Thancred are already locked in a game of pool, and there's real money on the corner of the table. G'raha carries two colorful cocktails to a standing table, where he and Urianger are chatting with Krile, on her tall barstool, of course. Aymeric is at the bar, laughing loudly with Leofard, and Leo's pouring a massive round of shots.

Estinien sways awkwardly on the spot before turning to Io. He jerks his head in Aymeric’s direction, letting her know where he'll be, before walking backward toward him. He's gone for now, then.

Yep, very cool.

Tataru (already flushed a deep shade of pink) gestures chaotically as she rambles to the birthday girl sitting at the end of the bar. Shtola is nodding along without looking, one arm thrown over the back of her metal stool tied with black and purple balloons speckled with glitter. Her other hand holds an e-reader and, holy shit, she is deeply engrossed in a book at her own party.

In fact, she only looks up when her glasses begin to slide down her nose, and that's when her pale eyes fall on Io. She is up in a flash. "You came!"

Shtola isn't one for lengthy displays. The hug is brief, but she wraps her arms tightly around Io and allows her to return it fully before pulling away.

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it," Io says. They walk arm in arm towards her decorated seat, where Tataru's tipsy little squeak alerts everyone else to her arrival, and then the party begins.

The night happens in a rush. A round of shots as they sing happy birthday, followed by a round of beers on the house because Io is back in town. She isn't allowed to be a wallflower tonight, tugged from huddle to huddle to share stories of her new orchestra gig or listen to someone else's big news that happened to slip through the cracks of the group chat.

Despite the company and constant meandering around the room, his static prickles on the back of her neck. Estinien hovers in the margins. Much like his blind reach for her hand in the car, she doesn't need to see him to know he's around. It is a phantom sensation, some missing part of her that she swears she can move if only she tries hard enough.

A quick glance to the side and she finds him effortlessly. He leans against the wall, speaking with Ayms in hushed voices. Estinien's eyes cut a sharp path to her, too; Aymeric's gaze follows, and a deviously knowing smile spreads across his face. Io purses her lips politely and smiles back, lifting her hand to wave. Aymeric waves back as he leans to whisper something to Estinien, who shakes his head and takes a long swallow from his beer. His posture tenses.

He pushes off the wall and walks outside, placing his empty bottle on the bar as he goes.

"Hold that thought," Io says as she breaks away from Thancred. "Just grabbing some air."

He's even easier to find on the sidewalk. A lone figure with his shoulder pressed into the brick, head tilted skyward. He's facing the door, as if he's waiting for someone.

"What's wrong?" Io takes a cautious step toward him, fighting the pull to go to him immediately

He shrugs but doesn't look at her. His brows knot, and she can't name the look he wears. It's frustrating not knowing what he's feeling. Disappointment? Defeat? Finally, he asks, "We're just not going to talk about it?"

Oh.

"Estinien, you've been distant most of the day, except for a compliment and holding my hand in the car… I didn't think you wanted to talk about it."

And that makes him look. His head rolls in her direction, hair bunched against the wall and his stare burning through her. "Be serious. Of course I want to. I just… don't know how to start."

"Neither do I." Io inhales and lets the warm night air soothe her nerves. Here she fucking goes. "We kissed. Barely—"

"'Barely.'" The word leaves him in a little huff of incensed laughter. He shakes his head.

"—And it was wrong to leave that up in the air for so long, but I guess it's easier not to know? Maybe it's, I don't know, kinder to slip back into how we were before that. If that's what you want."

"Kinder? Fuck off." Compared to his previous interruption, his tone has cooled, and his expression softened. He's not actually mad. If anything, he seems confused that he's being asked what he wants, as if it's obvious. "Did you mean what you said that night I called you?"

She moves to his side, still careful, still slow. But it's for her own benefit now. What on earth is he talking about?

He asked to call her a couple of weeks ago, the first time that's happened since she's been away. They talked through the night, and there was something close about it, closer than usual. The end of the conversation is fuzzy. She only remembers waking up with her phone pressed to her cheek.

Her shoulder meets the wall, mirroring his lean from a foot away. "...What did I say?"

"You love me." He spits it out quickly and gives no further explanation.

But it doesn't need any, does it? It's a simple yes or no. And it's now that she realizes Alberic—and everyone else—was right: he needs her to go first. He can't move until she does.

"Yeah…" Io shifts her weight against the brick, dragging her gaze from the grime-covered sidewalk to his gray eyes shining softly in the night. He deserves that, because she loves him. "I meant it. But listen, I'm not expecting anything. My job alone makes me a walking deal-breaker so—"

A few people stumble out of the bar, cackling loudly, and they both look to make sure it's no one they know. Just a group of strangers, so their attention refocuses. Io takes another breath, but Estinien speaks first.

"Since you left, I only sit in your chair." The streetlight overhead harshes the shadows falling across his face, but it does not obscure the reddening tips of his ears. "It felt stupid at first. For a while, I pretended it wasn't a conscious thing. Just a convenient one; it's closer to the door or whatever. But it's a choice, I realize that now… I think I've been keeping myself from it since you wrote on them. At some point, I couldn't tell the difference. But that became a choice, too."

It trails off a bit as he loses his own thread, but Io isn't lost. No, it makes perfect sense. This is him explaining every moment passed between them in the half-decade they've shared.

"You're rambling." She tries not to laugh. It's not funny. It's just what he does; he doesn't know what to say, so he says more than he should, and the familiar habit fills her chest with a fluttering warmth. His gaze moves to her smile. "I mean, you don't have to stop. I like when you get going."

She marvels at the way his eyes roll, annoyed and amused all at once. How he tries to be just one plain thing but can't help being more than that.

"The point is, I only sit in your chair."

Estinien's hands leave his pockets. She thinks he might be reaching for his cigarettes. She could use one, too. But they shoot towards her instead, his fingers wrapping into the embroidered edges of her jacket. He holds her like that, thumbs tracing the fabric while his eyes dart across her face, softening by the second. They dilate to a ring of dark silver.

Io reminds herself to breathe.

He pulls her closer.

Closer than that.

"I love you. I don't know how long it's been, just that I do." And he waits, all quickened breath and pleading eyes silently asking her to say it again.

"I love you too."

His hands wind around her, shifting her across the final gap between them, chest to warm chest. When Io lifts her hands to his face, his heartbeat gives him away. Pressed close like this, she feels the echo of every agonizing thump. His darkened eyes flash to her lips.

He moves.

They are careful at first, almost precious about it. But careful gives way to something else, just like it started to three months ago on the fire escape. His softness grows urgent, the kind of thing that begs to become another, deeper kiss. Io waits for the shoe to drop, the glass to shatter, but it doesn't come. Estinien's hands travel to the small of her back, one moves under her jacket, fingers skimming between the straps tying the back of her dress, and there is no interruption this time.

Every thought, every dream she's had about this does not compare to the way his lips seem to drag hers with him as he pulls back. His breathless whisper falls into the space between them.

"Should we get out of here, just go home? I just want to be with you tonight."

Io nods against his forehead, maybe too eagerly, but his smile is worth it. "Yeah, um, just let me say bye to everyone first. I hate to bail, but the party isn't the only reason I'm here."

He releases her as a smug grin pulls new shadows across his face. When they re-enter together, Aymeric approaches from the bar.

"You two were gone for a while." His words are ripe with accusation. Io shifts her weight and pulls her jacket closed, hoping he doesn't notice how rumpled it is.

Estinien leans against the wall by the entrance, looking as casual as ever. "And we're leaving again. Are you meeting everyone for breakfast tomorrow?"

Aymeric balks, "First of all, it's brunch, not breakfast; we're drinking again. Second, yes, I'll be there."

"Then we'll see you there."

"Wait, why are you leaving?"

Io takes the opportunity to slip away and find Y'shtola, who is once again seated at the bar, talking to Leo over the largest fishbowl of sangria she's ever seen. It's half-empty.

She slides into the seat next to her. "Hey… please don't kill me."

Shtola squints in Io's direction with surprisingly clear eyes. There is a silent question in them.

"Can I be here for this?" Leo props an elbow on the bar as if that might bolster his chances.

"No," they say in unison, refusing to glance his way.

"Fine," he says, no worse for wear. "I'm taking five, I need to piss anyway."

Shtola takes a deep sip of her drink until he's in the back. "Let me guess: you've decided to leave your best friend's birthday in the loud, crowded bar when we've been here less than two hours? Io, don't think I didn't expect that."

Io might be offended if there were any malice in the words, but Y'shtola brought her fucking kindle. She's probably planning her own escape soon.

"I'm awful, I'm sorry—" She throws her gaze over her shoulder and Shtola's head turns too. Estinien is still waiting by the door with Aymeric, but he's focused intently on her. "—but there's been a development…"

Bubbles sputter in her drink and she comes away coughing. "Are you serious? Finally? Not the half-assed, 'this is a goodbye forever, I'm giving up on you' kiss?"

"Finally." Her grin is embarrassing, but if anyone knows how long she's held out for this moment, it's Shtola. "Like, no bullshit, for real. Feelings talk and all, so I… really need to go."

Shtola shakes her head, one hand waving Io off the barstool and towards the exit. "No, no, breaking the pattern of platonic codependency and making a new, probably worse pattern is the perfect birthday gift. For the love of god, text me and let me know what happens."

"See you tomorrow." Io squeezes in one more hug and snags a sip of her drink before all but running for the door.

She gives Aymeric a little wave and a smile before passing through the door with Estinien's hand on her back again. A car is already waiting, and after they clamber inside, he doesn't cease his contact. An arm as far around her as he can manage, his fingers grazing her neck, and he can't take his eyes off her.

It doesn't matter that this is all the drive will allow. Desire sparks along her skin, originating from his touch and simmering between them, silent but shameless. The ride feels like an eternity.

When they're finally outside their building, the car is barely out of view before Estinien kisses her again. He walks them backward to the alcove housing the locked glass doors and the keypad. She laughs against his lips as she struggles to reach the buttons. He moves them closer. The first attempt lights the unit in red.

They'll get locked out at this rate.

Io pulls free of his lips with a hummed whine so she can see what she's doing. He moves to her cheek instead, then her jaw… Another red try.

"Estinien," she breathes.

His throaty laugh vibrates against her skin. "You've got it."

Fuck it. If this doesn't work, they can break their necks on the fire escape. 7-9-1-3-5. It blinks green, and the locked doors click open.

They only waste a little time in the stairwell, a quick kiss every other landing or so, when one can't resist grabbing the other, softly passing laughter between mouths before running up the next flight. It doesn't feel real. It lasts all the way to their door.

They go inside, hand in hand, and this is when it sets in.

Sure, it's a bit too clean, but the only new thing here is them. They kick off their shoes and navigate the path to Estinien's room in the dark, carefully dodging jutting furniture corners and stepping over the edges of rugs as their eyes adjust to the lack of light. A strange muscle memory when the context of the journey is so different.

In his room, Io pulls the chain on his bedside lamp, flooding the space with soft, warm light. She knows his room; the scattered sports and music posters, his baseball trophies and metals, and the long unused skateboard. His bed sits in the center of the far wall, flanked by a table on each side; one holds the lamp she just turned on, and the other is where his keys, wallet, and phone usually go. She's had to grab them more than once as they rushed out of this place.

"Is that okay?" she asks.

He nods, pulling her in again, prying her jacket off. It falls to the floor in a crumpled heap as his hands trail back up her arms. One settles lightly against the back of her neck. She runs a shaking hand over his stomach until it rests on his chest.

He inhales, forehead falling to hers for the second time tonight. "I'm kind of nervous."

"Me too." She swallows, trying to keep her voice even. "It feels silly, right?"

"Yeah." Estinien's rumbled laugh sounds in the quiet. "The reason I shouldn't be is the reason I am."

Io pulls her head away, asking why with furrowed brows.

"Because it's you."

What steals her breath seems to give his confidence a second wind. He tugs a strap off her shoulder and presses a kiss to the freckled skin beneath, lips moving slowly, reverently, until her head tips back and her arms snake around his waist. He catches the hem of the dress, looking to Io briefly for approval, lifting it over her head after she nods.

He pauses, drinking in the sight of her standing in his most private space, wearing only her underwear, and for a second Io wonders if his drinks have caught up with him.

He pulls his own shirt off, ruffling his hair in the process. His skin catches the lamplight on one side and moonlight on the other. His beauty is uncomplicated, as direct as he is, but right now it threatens to overwhelm her. Io reaches for him, runs her hands across soft muscle and the small, knotted scar on his left shoulder.

She leans forward, brushing her lips over his, almost content to feel him breathing against them and nothing more. Almost. Estinien's knuckles skim her waist, ghost over the side of her breast, across her back, where his hold solidifies before tipping them onto the bed.

Each touch speaks the assurance they've never needed to voice—I'll take care of you, I'm the one who always takes care of you. This is not so different, not when they get down to it. Estinien drags his lips across her throat and that is just as intimate as his texts reminding her to take her anxiety medication; Io's hands slipping beneath his waistband are the same hands that spread his favorite blanket over him when he falls asleep on their couch. I made you coffee shares DNA with please kiss me again, and both are prerequisites to the soft grip of his hand under her chin, leading her mouth to his.

What's one more way to love each other?

Between needy touches and heated moans, they peel away the last of their layers. There is nothing else they can bare.

Estinien moves down her body, nose trailing against her skin, stopping along the way to place soft, searing kisses to places that certainly never existed before now. The tip of her collarbone, the underside of her breasts, the sensitive skin over her ribs, and she shivers as he brings each one to life in the soft heat of his mouth. His hands follow, creating a pattern of kiss and caress, and Io is never without some part of him in contact with her skin.

He settles between her legs, and she feels the hot rush of his breath, coming just that much faster as he anticipates the next action. Io can hardly bear to look at him—flushed cheek pressed against her thigh and his eyes growing darker when she bites her lip—but she cannot look away.

"You're so fucking beautiful." Estinien kisses her thigh, then whispers low in a voice Io doesn't recognize, "Do you want me to?"

His fingers trace a tantalizing pattern on her leg as he stares up at her, waiting for the answer.

How can she tell him what he's doing to her before he even begins? "Please" is the only word she can articulate as she runs a hand through his hair, gently urging him to go on. "Please."

He dips his head, and words don't matter. She couldn't form them if she tried. Her eyes squeeze shut as she falls against the pillow. There is only shapeless sound, her body tense and twisting, the combination of her slick heat and his mouth,

his mouth,

his mouth.

She's at the edge before she knows it, and the feel of his lips changes, lightens, as he pushes her over. He's smiling—pleased with himself, pleased at her reaction. It remains in place as he lifts himself and kisses his way back to her lips.

Estinien covers her, skin to skin, and Io pulls away from his lips just to look at him for a moment. His silver hair catching bits of the city lights through the window. The shine of her still worn on his lips. Io cups his cheek and sweeps her thumb across them, observing the way they yield for even this touch. His blush spreads to the tips of his ears, down his neck.

"I feel so stupid. You've been looking at me that way for years, and I…" The thought hangs between them: 'What if?' He shakes his head above her, his hair grazing her shoulders.

"Yeah," Io whispers. "But you've been looking at me too. I wasn't in a rush."

She smiles into the next kiss, feels his own spread against her lips. Of all the things they've done tonight, the things they will do, this is the one she wants to keep most. She lets it linger, lets him deepen it when he's ready, asking for more when his tongue slides over hers and he shifts between her thighs.

Io stifles a moan and presses her hands into his back. She needs him closer.

One more shift, and they gasp through a broken kiss. There is only a second of pause, a quick word to check in, then Estinien drives forward again. They find a rhythm. Io moves with him. His breathing grows ragged and shallow, his voice is a tight rasp as he curses or mutters her name into the crook of her neck.

He leans back, resting on his knees, lifting Io with him so she sits on his angled lap. "I wanna see you like this," he says in a shredded whisper. "I keep thinking about it."

It's easy to give him what he wants when he looks at her like this, when he asks for her like he needs her. Io works her hips against him while Estinein does his best to explore, to touch, but his focus shatters in a guttural rumble as he pulls free and guides their fall back to the bed.

There is breath to catch and mess to clean. They alternate trips to the bathroom, then settle into his bed in a yawning heap.

They stay close afterward, liking the way their limbs have tangled and the heaviness of his body relaxing against hers. Io runs her fingers through his hair, unwilling to stop touching him like this now that she has no reason to hold back, and relishes the soft breath washing over her chest. Estinien is still, besides the occasional lazy roll of his head, to kiss her where he can. From the opposite side of the bed, the lamp's glow brightens his edges, the sharp line of his jaw, his nose, and his lips gently pulled into the sweetest smile Io's ever seen him wear.

She could watch him like this forever.

The city doesn't slow around them. Flashes of sound and color leak into the dim room, painting the wall in shifting light that disappears between drowsy blinks. Io wonders how all those passersby in taxis and on the street can go on like before, unaware a faultline has moved under their feet. Don't they know? Didn't they feel it?

The quiet breaks abruptly.

"Io, I'm not,"—his rough voice wavers. He pauses. She can almost see him turning over the words in his mind—"very romantic, if I'm honest, but I could be good to you."

His head on her chest is the only thing keeping her in orbit.

"You've always been good to me. If you're asking me for something…"

"I'm asking."

"You just wanna hear me say it?" And she laughs at his sleepy little nod, heartsick at the way he looks up at her, pupils wide even with their desire temporarily quenched. He wants more than light. She gives it to him. She'd give him anything. "Then yeah, I want to be with you, if you're willing to deal with the distance."

"I don't mind the distance if it's with you." His eyes close, his breathing deepens. She holds him like that until sleep takes her, too.

Io wakes slowly. The room is still gray and dark, with the exception of a single line of early sunlight fighting its way through his blackout curtains. It falls across her side of the bed, a reminder that something exists beyond the bliss of being tucked into this specific set of sheets.

Estinien is already awake. His hand moves down her side, warm and soothing, and then makes the return journey upward, over and over, until she half-rolls to see his face.

"Hey," his voice is even more rough than usual, but it's sweeter, too. He lifts onto his arm, smiling down at her. His messy hair hangs in his eyes. Witnessing this side of him… it always felt so out of reach.

"Hi," she whispers back, adjusting the sheet so there's no barrier between them. "Why are you awake?"

His knuckles roll over her neck, up to her cheek. "Just wanted to look at you. You're all I can think about, and now you're here so… is that weird?"

Io shakes her head against his pillow. "I don't think it's weird. I think I'd do the same."

"Good." He leans in, but pauses before their lips meet. "Wouldn't stop me if it was."

He kisses her slowly, pulls her back flush to his chest so he can touch her. The urgency and nerves of last night are gone. His hands move, unhurried, over the twist of her body, more interested in coaxing little sounds of need from her while her voice still wears shades of sleep. When he fills her this time, his thrusts are soft, almost lazy. And when he's finished, Estinien tells her he loves her again.

She will never tire of hearing it.

They are late to brunch. It's a wonder they show up at all.

No comments when they stroll to the table hand in hand, or when Estinien throws his arm around Io's chair, and not even when she leans into him to rest her head against his cheek after the third mimosa. This is how it should've been all along. They were the only people blocking the way.

The day passes in patches of sunlight and bright laughter, that of their friends and, later on, just theirs. They walk their favorite paths and visit the places Io missed most. The park on the way to her former library job, the library itself, the bakery with specialty cupcakes, and the taco joint she's been craving. But he is a magnet for her hands and, in truth, the place she misses most is their apartment…

They make good use of the short time. No room is too sacred, no surface too precious, until they make it so. By the end of the weekend, they have a pretty good handle on what works. Estinien is a quick study; he remembers what makes her smile, what causes a gasp or a moan.

They learn other things too.

"Tell me something I don't know about you," Io requests on that final evening.

Estinien lies on his back, head angled toward the tv that drones quietly in front of them. He's not watching; his eyes are half closed and his hand tangles in her hair. It's the most focus he can spare right now.

"I thought it was called 'duck tape' for too long. Aymeric pulled me aside in freshman year. Embarrassing as fuck," he says. "Your turn."

Io commits to being a quiet observer, biting back the giggle in the back of her throat.

She lies across his waist with one arm folded under her chin. Her fingers skate over his torso, leaving little trails of puckered skin in their wake. She pockets every tiny reaction (the soft hitch in his breath at a touch near the lower rungs of his ribs, or barely audible sigh when she passes just below his navel), but these are the only interruptions to the otherwise steady rise and fall of his chest.

"I'm allergic to bee stings."

"What?"

"Yeah, I should've mentioned it before," she says. "You're my emergency contact, so you should know what might take me out."

He laughs, a full belly laugh that shakes both of them on the couch. The sound digs into the marrow of her bones. It can't replace the voices she misses, but she can make more space for him in the part of her heart that longs to hear them.

The quiet after his laughter is just as tender, both of them content with this simple closeness.

"I don't want you to go," he says after some time. "One more day."

"Estinien, my flight—"

"Fuck your flight." His drowsy smile is tempting. "Stay with me."

She says no by pressing her lips against the soft, fuzzy patch of skin beneath his navel, and his exhale barely restrains a shudder. Does she truly do this to him so easily?

"Stay," Estinien repeats.

"You know I can't." Io kisses him again, shifting her head, preparing to focus her attention a little lower…

A long exhale stutters out of him. "I know."

She tugs on the hem of his boxers and he lifts his hips to make it easier for her to move them down his thighs. Io bites her lip at the sight of him, his ready willingness to share himself with her, the way he wants her. She brushes her lips against his length.

"I can come back next month." She trades lips for tongue, adores the way his head rolls back against the sofa. "We'll talk every day, like we always do."

"Next month," he whispers as she takes him into her mouth. His voice strains. "Only nine more to go."

It's noon on Monday when they leave for the airport.

Estinien drives them. Io takes in the view from the passenger seat, branding the feel of his hand on her knee into her mind. And then the pressure of his arms around her when he pulls her back for another hug, the nervous blush when he kisses her openly at the gate. His straight-backed reassurance of "I love you. Come home soon."

Home can be a place, as simple as four walls, or the scent of minty body wash, the voices that soothe just by proximity, and it can be a shared bad habit. The picturesque scenes of a small and beautiful life. Home can be the boy you watch grow into a man, the friend you wait for until you don't care about the waiting, and the partner stoking butterflies or comfort with a look. Home isn't home the first time—it demands a return.

"I will. I'll be back before you know it. And I love you too."

Home requires memory.

#azia writes #io laithe #io/estinien #otwr au #my GOD i am so glad this is finished sdlkgjfd #i don't even have commentary i just love them #i love them in this setting. i love how committed they are to each other even when they think it's unrequited #bye

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lumentears · 2 years

Text

Garreg Mach students ranked by how popular their tumblr blog would be, from least to most

Popularity is measured not only by follower count, but also their general notoriaty in the tumblr dot hell ecosystem.

Ashen wolves sadly excluded because this list is long enough and I wish to see the sun again sometime today.

24. Leonie

I say this with a mind free of judgement and a heart full of love, but Leonie is a Facebook user. She doesn't really get tumblr, since for her social media is mainly to keep up with her people back in Sauin village, and you can not tell me that a community of mainly hunters uses anything other than Facebook to show off their latest game.

Most popular post: Her introduction post. Liked by Byleth and Byleth only.

23. Dimitri

He uses his tumblr as a personal vent blog whenever he is having a Mental Health Moment™ and deletes everything he posted the day later. He sits on an ask box full of concerned anons he can't bring himself to either acknowledge or delete.

Most popular post: His posts get liked in the """"traumacore"""" space but since he immediately deletes them it's hard to gaige exact metrics.

22. Hubert

You fool! He has 70 alternative accounts! And he uses all of them to send anon hate to his enemies and publish callout posts on those who seek to oppose Lady Edelgard.

Most popular post: "Lord Varley is a terrible person that deserves to be deplatformed and beheaded and here's why"

21. Ashe

His tumblr is for things he personally enjoys, he doesn't really post much original content. He reblogs from Bernadetta and Ferdinand and every single credible gofundme he can get his fingers on.

Most popular post: That time Felix baited him into a lengthy argument over the ethics of shoplifting.

20. Raphael

Reblogs warriormale like it's his god damn job. Occaisonally posts workout videos too, but for some reason Ignatz is REALLY bad at getting the camera to focus whenever Raphael is on screen.

Most popular post: Raphael was very enthusiastic about warriormale's drop that towel!!! post, much to the amusement of many immature people online.

19. Petra

Petra has a travel blog, mostly to document her experiences in Fódlan and get her into the habit of writing in her second language. It's mostly for her own sake, so she isn't fussed about getting followers.

Most popular post: A video titled "Me and my best girl friend at the beach". Every single one of the notes are a variation of "girl is that Dorothea Arnault 👀👀👀". She never confirms or denies this and her next update is about her catching the cold for the fifth time this year.

18. Linhardt

No queue, no tags, no system, Linhardt posts whatever holds his interest. An absolute nightmare for the novice to follow, but students with a little bit of patience can unearth many a pirated textbook.

Most popular post: A masterlist of crestology textbooks. Reblog to save a student's life!

17. Ingrid

Mostly vaguely feminist theory and book recs. Sometimes extremely personal ventposting. People who know her irl pretend not to know it is her as to not make her uncomfortable.

Most popular post: That one time she got kungpowpenised on one of her more...problematiqué opinion pieces.

16. Lysithea

Okay folks hear me out - she totally has a super secret fandom blog. She pretends that it is for the sole purpose of pointing and laughing at fandom drama as she herself is above that fandom-brained nonsense, but Goddess have mercy on your sinful soul if you provoke her into sharing her hot takes.

Most popular post: A 14k word essay on disability in the warrior cats book series.

15. Annette

Annette also has a fandom blog, but shame? Not on her good christian site. She takes great pains to keep her blog a space of positivity and unabashed joy in being cringe. In all honesty, it feels a bit like falling through a time portal into pre-dashcon tumblr, and I say this with equal parts nostalgia and condemnation.

Most popular post: In this universe, she is the person that birthed the "my homophobic dad became an ally by watching Sherlock" fake tumblr story. It was a bit of wish fulfillment when she was younger, and it haunts her to this day.

14. Ferdinand

Writes mediocre poetry and reblogs scenery panoramas and history posts. Regularly has to fight accusations of being a tradcath blogger, and he fights them to the death.

Most popular post: A picture of him on horseback went semi-viral once, akin to the ridicoulusly handsome marathon runner.

13. Lorenz

Writes mediocre poetry and reblogs scenery panoramas and history posts. Is actually a tradcath. Alas, people live for the drama and Lorenz gives them no shortage of it.

Most popular post: That time Lorenz went defcon as he was accused of sneaking into women's dms to ask for feet pics. He vehemently, desperately denied being into feet.

12. Felix

Felix has been banned from every other platform but tumblr, and he uses it for PVP only. He's become infamous sitewite for always starting shit and getting into arguments, almost in the same vein as human pet guy, just a bit less horribly morally bankrupt.

Most popular post: A legendary colour-of-the-sky length feud with Sylvain that ends in Felix posting a screed that has become the next "what the fuck did you just fucking say about me" copypasta.

11. Marianne

Has one of these "is the animal media cute" blogs. She tries to stay nonjudgemental and positive, but something in these blogs just seems to make people go sicko mode - she has to block at least a dozen people every single day. Secret star of the blog is Dorte the horse.

Most popular post: A video of her singing happy birthday to Dorte. It wold probably have gone unnoticed if Hilda hadn't reblogged it to her ravenous audience who can't get enough of pretty girls.

10. Dedue

Is most active on youtube, but he still has a woodworking, cooking and gardening blog that attracts the most wholesome audience of old people. You know, the „great work, Dedue, it’s nice to see the younger generation still picking up these kinds of hobbies“ kind.

Most popular post: I feel like he’d dabble in the kind of „cooking hack debunking“ videos Ann Reardon does in our universe, because he respects the craft and doesn’t want young people getting hurt trying dangerous viral hacks.

9: Ignatz

If you’ve ever been on the internet at all, you’ve probably seen one of his artworks. Sadly, those artworks are probably reposts of reposts of reposts, and Ignatz is still struggling to make comissions – he is still to shy to just become a furry artist but give it a few months and he might not have a choice anymore.

Most popular post: A post begging tumblr users to reblog his art.

8. Dorothea Arnault

She absolutely could be in the top 3 of this list if she wanted to. She just ABSOLUTELY doesn't want to. She's incognito on this blog and, once you've dug your way through reblogged gofundme's of folks in need, you'd find that her content is mainly her singing in places you wouldn't expect great audio in - stairwells and basements, mostly. Sometimes, people will ask her "has anyone ever told you you sound like Dorothea Arnault?" and she'll answer "I don't know who that is, sounds like a bitch though".

Most popular post: Her blog really took off during the sea shanty stage of quarantine - in fact, her sapphic shanties might have kickstarted the era.

7. Sylvain

Hornyposts all day every day and still finds a way to get all up in everyone's business. Was determined to outlast the titty ban and by now, the algorithm as pretty much thrown up its hands and given up on him. Totally the kind of guy who reblogs nsfw pics or videos from other blogs with unwarranted commentary.

Most popular post: His legendary tiff with Felix, in which he pulled off smooth shark levels of playing dumb to piss off his opponent. The resulting mythic copypasta is now his bio.

6. Mercedes

Mercedes posts daily on her affirmations and positivity blog. Reminders to relax x muscle, unclench y joint, and afford yourself the same grace you afford others. She also gives advice to troubled anons, and it's not neccessarily good advice but it's nice to see someone sincerely cares. People somewhat parasocially call her the "tumblr mom".

Most popular post: Her coming out post where she announced she is bisexual.

5. Caspar

Okay this might be a hot take but i feel like Caspar is a tiktoker – detractors call him a thirst trap but honestly he doesn’t show off his abs to make money off of horny viewers, he shows them off cause he's proud and wants everyone to know about them. He reblogs all his stuff to tumblr because he knows Linhardt is most active (most being a relative term) there and Linhardt liking his new post is a highlight of his day.

Most popular post: He’s gone viral a few times with a genre of tiktoks tumblr would describe as this is what boys will be boys should mean. In this universe, he ist he originator oft he vine of a guy pushing his friend, who’s fallen asleep on an air matress, out into a lake.

4. Bernadetta

Has a gajillion sideblogs she can’t bring herself to part with – she lives in constant fear someone will discover her abandoned onceler sideblog. Her most popular blog is for writing reader insert fanfiction. Whenever her blog gains enough followers to make her feel nervous about posting, she drops off the face of the earth for a few months until her follower count has shrunken to a managable size.

Most popular post: shamefully, an 18+ onceler rp from the olden days.

3. Edelgard

Your one-stop shop for protest tactics, world news, guilt-trippy posts about today's calamity and what you can and MUST do about it, and organisation to donate time and money to.

Most popular post: So she let her guard down once, ONCE, and reblog a slew of topless buff woman gifs to main on accident, and tumblr still clowns on her for it.

2. Hilda

She may be an insta gal, but she took to tumblr like a duck to water. Yes, tumblr as a whole hates the idea of being sold things, but sometmies they are willing to make an exception if the girl selling things is a delightfully lazy and aggravatingly cute #girlboss.

Most popular post: Technically, it's a selfie with her tiddies almost out. What draws people to the post is Marianne in the background, clearly hypnotised, pouring a herself a nice cup of tea...into her lap.

1.Claude

You think he's a tumblr funnyman? Wrong. He's ALL the tumblr funnymen. He is gaud, he is pukicho, he is all the other's who's names I can't be arsed to look up. It began as him sockpuppeting on another account to set up a punchline to a shitpost, it snowballed from there and now he is roleplaying several different tumblr blogs with an incredible amount of dedication. Right now he is planning for two of his personas to stream a game simultaneously.

Most popular post: If you ask him, his most popular post has not been made yet, but it sits in his draft, just waiting for the day they pull the plug on tumblr, so he can end the charade and dramatically unmask himself at the last possible moment.

Bonus: Byleth

Reblogs every single post her students make. Regardless of theme. Regardless of content. Always reacting with a couple of emojis. Nobody is sure whether her blog is a bot or a real person, and scrolling through it the closest one could come to browsing r/all on tumblr.

She is, of course, not a bot, this is just the way she makes her unconditional support of her students known. Even if that means reblogging hardcore porn, an essay on the canonical treatment of Brightheart in The Prophecies Begin, more hardcore porn and a deeply personal account of trauma within seconds of each other.

#fire emblem #fire emblem 3 houses #listen if i was mean to your fave on here there is a good chance i actually love them #i am just shitposting #black eagles #blue lions #golden deer #fuck im not tagging every student in this if this is a 2 note post then so be it #fe3h

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hanasnx · 4 months

Note

Which bruce wayne is ur favourite? (ex. Christian Bale, Robert Patterson) and follow up question why? -🐰

bunny, im so glad you asked. how much time do you have

i don't care about robert pattinson, i did not care about the batman (2022). i'm sure i'll do a full analysis once i'm able to establish my credentials as a lifelong batman fan, but there was a lot that fell so short for me.

christian bale was an exceptional bruce wayne, which is arguably as impossible a role to fill as the role of batman is. i loved bale's aloof and smug nature as bruce, his confidence and faults, but i can not stand his portrayal of batman. not only is the suit design egregious and unflattering, whoever helped him develop his bat-voice was a terrible guide. bale did his best, don't get me wrong, truly i can hear him giving his all and shredding his vocal chords in the process, but it was simply awful to listen to. the dark knight (2008) is still a rewatch-worthy movie of course, but batman begins (2005) & the dark knight rises (2012) was not memorable nor revolutionary. they pale in comparison to the middle of the trilogy.

more (and a TDLR at the bottom) under the cut:

i thought michael keaton's portrayal of both bruce and batman in batman (1989) and batman returns (1992) was boring. any personality he may have tried to bring to batman was washed out by tim burton trying to fit so much of... well... tim burton into something that didn't need any more of that injection. don't get me wrong, stylistically it's appealing, but if you told me that keaton just showed up and started acting as michael keaton instead of bruce wayne i'd believe you because there is no clear distinction between the two. the second movie was way more enjoyable to watch but it was because of elements that had... virtually nothing to do with bruce/batman. it was devito's penguin, and pfieffer's catwoman (and her subplot) that held my attention. i think it's definitely a burton movie, which is fine, and his morbid takes on those characters are interesting, but it was not a defining movie for bruce/batman. it honestly could've been better without batman entirely or benched as a side character / the antagonist.

batman forever (1995) is my secret favorite live action portrayal. val kilmer had bale's charisma when it came to bruce wayne, and gave batman a unique personality that i adored. he didn't shred his vocal chords to give batman a deeper voice either, instead gave himself an elegant yet commanding edge that reminded me of what i admired about kevin conroy's batman voice. as campy as it is, i love so much of what they did with this movie. i often think of it as a standalone vs it being actually a part of the "burtonverse." especially because batman & robin (1997) is supposed to be part of that franchise and i cannot tell you a single thing that happened in that movie besides maybe uma thurman.

another secret live-action favorite of mine was the foundational movie of adam west's portrayal in batman: the movie (1966) and i will elaborate on that another time either by someone's solicitation or my own hyperfixation driven wills.

now that the live-action shit is out of the way, let's get to the real winners.

the dcau or "timmverse" (bruce timm) or "diniverse" (paul dini) is the name for the dc animated universe franchise during 1992 - 2006 which includes loads of favorite shows/movies of mine. which leads me to say: my favorite portrayals of bruce wayne and batman of all time, is kevin conroy's from justice league (2001 - 2004) and justice league unlimited (2004 - 2006). those two might not be as solid as a legend like batman: the animated series (1992 - 1995) where conroy made his debut, but they were one of my introductory pieces to his portrayal and are a source of a lot of love and nostalgia that still hold up today as a twenty-one year old vs elementary school when i first discovered them. i stayed up til the AM watching them which i had never done before that (it was 7am). i would rewatch my favorite episodes over and over again which i have never done for any other show.

as many have already agreed, conroy was the definitive voice of batman for decades. his beginnings in the legendary batman: the animated series (1991 - 1995) put him on the map as bruce's most recognizable VA, and he went on to voice him in many adaptations that i also adore. a few examples are batman beyond (1999 - 2001) and the rocksteady arkham video game series (2009 - 2015). not only did he form a dynamic duo with mark hamill's joker (who is also so important for the joker's character, but i can't elaborate on that here without a terrific tangent) which employed one of the most potent examples of chemistry i've ever seen in media, but i would've trusted conroy's expertise on bruce/batman to the ends of the earth. he cared about that character, and he showed it in every faithful adaptation he performed. trustworthy and admirable, conroy is hands down the best batman by far, and did justice to his characterization that defined my love for the character. without conroy who brought him alive, i doubt i'd be into batman as much as i am or for as long as i have.

i knew that writing this post i'd get emotional. it's been a year since conroy's death in november 2022. i still remember the night before the news and how i had coincidentally imagined a world without him, come to find out the very next day that he had passed away. i remember exactly where i was when i found out, i remember exactly what i did after. he had honestly been a part of life through batman for almost the entirety of it. he was the celebrity i always wanted to meet, no one was important enough to me to go through that trouble. but conroy was worth it to me, and i missed out on the chance before he passed away. i heard he was always so personable and so kind, and who could ask for better from batman, you know? god there's so much more i could say, but i dont want to be disrespectful to his family who i'm sure miss him terribly, and are the ones that experienced that loss. in the grand scheme of things, i was nothing to him and that's fine, but i'm just very proud of him.

TDLR the character bruce wayne / batman portrayals in any live action adaptations fell short when it comes to animated adaptations of his character. batman forever (1995) is my favorite live-action movie, but it's nothing compared to my love for the voice acting of kevin conroy's bruce wayne / batman in justice league (2001 - 2004) / justice league unlimited (2004 - 2006).

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according2thelore · 4 months

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2023 top five!

@preseriesdean thought it would be fun for artists/authors/creators to post their favorite five creations this year, and i agree! it can be anything: your favorite posts, fics, art, edits, fanvids, anything!

i saw some folks turning this into a tag game, so here are some tags! @deanwinchesterpregnant @dyed-red @mercette @crucifysam @weirdbrothers @togethertogethersoulmates @pookeenpie

if you end up doing it, pls tag me! i'd love to see y'all's works! :)

-lizzy

so in no particular order, here are the five fics i liked the best/am the most proud of!

considering that everything i’ve written on this account (240k words of it good lord) was published since february 23rd, i’ve got a lot to work with!

i was in the fandom back in 2012-2013 until 2016-2017, and when i rewatched it recently with some friends, i realized just how many words and feelings had been broiling since. i wrote a LOT for spn back in the day (not published, just for the pure joie de vivre), but everything on the ao3 is completely new since feb!

1. tell me, why are you still so afraid?

or, the "what do you want, sam?" fic. this one might be a surprise! it did moderately well, but i'm really happy with it! i love writing weechesters/pre-series, and i hope this fic did them justice! it hit a lot of points i liked, and i had so much fun writing it!! i'm proud of it! :)

2. you're pretty when you don't speak

or, sam's wife pov. i was shocked!!! aghast!!! frankly agog!!! at how much folks loved this one! i had the idea in the shower of all places, lmao, just the idea that wait, being sam's wife must be so lonely. it was not the usual fare (and written in second-person pov), so i was expecting it to gently and quietly flop. but no! i wrote this fic in two sittings at one a.m. the night before a paleopathology exam, so i'm shocked any of it was coherent in the morning. thank you, dear reader, if you interacted w it at all! :)

3. romans 3:10-11

ahh, romans. to other folks that write, this was one of those fics that scratched in my bones until i sat down and wrote it all out. does that sound pretentious? it was stifling; it was all i could think about. even now, i look back on it and feel like there are things that are missing, extended scenes and extra themes that i wished i had teased out. the response was overwhelming and positive and i'm so glad you lot liked it! if you ever want more...idk...lemme know...

4. we didn't get it right, but love we did our best

or, the Heaven fic! this one took awhile to make, and a lot out of me to do! it's the longest fic i've made this year, by a lot! the planning process was a lot of fun (even though charlotte was mostly asleep), and i even colour-coded themes and turning points i wanted to include. the sense of accomplishment when it was done was a great part of this year!

5. there's no such thing as a clean break, when your heart starts bleeding out

or, the stanford!era fic where dean bleeds out on the highway and decides to not tell sam about it. one of my favorite things to write is a character getting more and more out of it as they lose control (or blood), and this one was a fun challenge! i love stanford!era dean, because he's so mangled and angry and sad. i feel like that one tweet that william shatner posted where he said ELECTROCUTE HIM!!! this also feels the most like the things i wrote back in 2014, so it brings nostalgia :,)

this was WAY harder than i thought! i loved and was so proud of so much of my work this year! a top ten would be easier, but i'm happy with this list!

thank YOU for reading! :)

we are holding hands now and there's nothing you can do to stop it. y'all keep this up and we might even have to stare lovingly into each other's eyes.

#spn fanfic #spn fic #sam and dean #samdean #wincest fanfiction #wincest #wincest wednesday #2023 top five list #tag game

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docholligay · 2 months

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Dr. Holligay, can you please tell the class some children‘s books that would hit hard for adults? For example: I DO remember reading „A Wrinkle in Time“ as a 12 year old kid but I feel like I will get more out of it as an adult than when I read it as a child.

This is so hard, because by necessity, stories for children are so much more simple than stories for adults. The prose is less complex, the morality generally with more of a brightline, the plot beats more stock. This is not a criticism, children are cutting their literary eyeteeth on these stories, and that is what they are there for.

But, it's hard for an adult, thinking as an adult, to be QUITE as dropped out of the sky as a kid might be. I don't know of any kids' books I would PERSONALLY say "hit hard" but I'm a little tougher of a nut than some others and kids' stories rarely go the places I need to REALLY engage my emotions.

I mean, I think the whole Wrinkle in Time series is fucking great, but I think if you read it as an adult, it is pretty obvious that its for kids. Same with Series of Unfortunate Events, which I ADORE. For adults it's mostly just amusing, it won't hit hard.

I mean I have my contractually-obligated plug for Watership Down*. I think it's one of the kids' books I've read that I get a LOT out of as an adult. I think His Dark Materials has its eye-rolling moments, but also has some fantastic stuff going on, if you can get around Pullman occasionally cutting himself on all that edge**. I know a lot of people get a lot out of The Last Unicorn as adults, though I mostly found it a very good children's book. I know a lot of people love The Little Prince as adult,s but it did absolutely nothing for me, personally.

And then there are books I love out of a complex nostalgia but I don't know if they hold up for adults and/or also they have the trouble of their times, however else I feel about them: Peter Pan, The Jungle Books, I haven't reread Tuck Everlasting recently, Nor the Hunger Games but I remember being impressed by them when they came out, The Giver, certainly others I am forgetting.

*Yes, this is a children's book. It was written for children. I have noticed that whenever people say a novel isn't for children, even when it is, they mean, "it isn't pablum where everything is always going to be fine and you never have to be scared or sad" WHERE THE RED FERN GROWS IS A GREAT KIDS' BOOK TOO.

**I love this series, but, I mean good God, I get it Phil.

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foi-fede · 8 months

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Sunset Serenade: The Last of Summer

Pairing: SKZ Felix x Reader

Series: Sunset Serenade: The Last of Summer

Genre: Strangers to lovers, slight angst(!), smut (not in this chapter honestly), fluff, slow burn(!)

Synopsis: Running back to the last of the summer left with her, Y/N unexpectedly gets stumbled beneath the tranquil embrace of starry nights and soothing breeze, a story of unexpected encounters and emotions unfolds. Y/N's summer takes a captivating turn when she crosses paths with Felix. The vibrant lights and electric atmosphere become a backdrop for a connection that defies explanation. Amidst laughter and music, their bond grows, but new challenges and confessions test their emotions. As the waves whisper secrets, Y/N navigates a sea of feelings, unearthing a journey filled with surprises and self-discovery.

Mood board: #1

Word Count: 10k

Warning: Mention of a passed one, mention of alcohol, slight sexual tension (not much, just a little)

A/n: I was never fond of summer before this year. It's like refusing to try a new ice-cream flavor in fear of ruining the taste buds but finally trying and eventually falling in love with it. I hope reading this simple fanfic becomes one of the nice things to be remembered about summer for everyone. ^^

| Reminder: All the character's personalities and thoughts are raised from pure fiction, it is just a work of fiction. |

Read all the chapters here.

Beneath the starlit waves

When we think of summer, our minds often drift to memories of refreshing shaved ice on the beach, or warm nights spent gathered around a crackling bonfire. And for those who are fortunate enough to have the right luxuries, perhaps sipping margaritas by the pool at noon.

There's something special about the season that just brings out the best in us - the warmth of the sun on our skin and the sound of waves crashing against the shore. It's no wonder that "they" say the beach is where you can truly experience the miracle of summer.

Even now, as the days grow shorter and the air turns cooler, it's hard not to feel a sense of nostalgia for those long summer days. Perhaps that's why so many of us go to great lengths to hold onto the season for just a little bit longer - like driving 163 kilometers straight from town to catch up with the last couple of weeks of summer, or simply sitting on a sandy bed, watching the sunset unfold before us.

As I sit here now, surrounded by couples who seem about to start making out any moment. I completely forgot about my summer with everything that's been going on lately, until my brother made me realize that I've lost touch with myself. The sand, breeze, and salty smell of the ocean leave me with doubts. Am I here to relive that summer miracle or to drown in grief because these things remind me the summer with mom?

The thoughts pushed me to stand up and take unnoticed steps toward the sea. It felt like I was invisible to the world, which was busy making out, spinning bottles, and shoving booze around. I was so lost in thoughts, moving slowly forward and feeling the warm water up to my knees, and then gradually up my thighs, making it feel like the denim was nowhere near my legs. Just when it was about to be all damped, a hand pulled me back, jolting me out of my thoughts.

“Mam! mam! watch out where you going!”

This guy snapped me out of my thoughts in an instant, and it dawned on me just how far I had strayed from my original spot—quite a distance, indeed.

“I’m… sorry for pulling you out of it but, the tides are high at the moment. You should stay at the shore. Are you alright?”

Have you ever seen a sunset in someone's eyes? I did, at that very moment, in those eyes. The reflection of the dozing sun under the sea behind me was mirrored in his gaze. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of dopamine rush was making me observe the intricate details of a stranger's face with such intensity, as if I were completely enthralled.

"Oh yeah... sure, I'll be at the shore," I replied, already stepping toward the land.

"Thank you. I had no intentions of interrupting you, but you know, duty calls. I have to keep you safe," he said with a shrug and a chuckle, following me out of the water.

His tank tee with the whistle clearly marked him as a lifeguard on duty. Of course, it was his job to ensure everyone's safety.

"No, no, it's fine. I was just lost in my thoughts; don't worry," I cleared my throat, my gaze fixated on the hues of orange and pink across the horizon.

"Are you hanging out with that group?" he inquired, pointing at a bunch of people enjoying drinks around a newly bonfire.

"No, I'm alone," I replied.

"Oh... enjoying a peaceful sunset by yourself?" he asked.

I glanced down at the sand sticking under my feet and simply nodded, “Yeah it’s the most serene time of a rushing summer day” I responded.

"It certainly is," he agreed, his gaze sweeping across the gently receding waves. "With the crowds thinning out this week, it's even more peaceful. Usually, kids are running around the water even at this hour, which can make my job a bit challenging," he chuckled, gesturing to the beach around us.

A sense of understanding washed over me as I appreciated the his dedication and responsibility. "I can imagine. Your job must require a lot of patience and watchfulness," I remarked, admiring his commitment to ensuring everyone's safety.

He nodded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You've got that right. But it's all worth it to keep everyone safe and happy at the beach," he replied.

"I'm Felix, by the way. You should know my name, so that you can call out for help whenever you're drowning in thoughts like that again," he said, his eyes meeting mine with a warm smile.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his playful remark, appreciating his friendly and caring demeanor. "Yeah, sure, and I'm Y/N," I replied, feeling a sense of ease and comfort in his presence. No wonder our chance encounter now evolved into a stroll together. Sun is no where to be found and the blanket of stars slowly started to fade in.

As our conversation continued, he brought up Coastal Hangover, a popular spot filled with beachgoers during the summer. "how come I never saw you at Coastal Hangover's this summer? It's always buzzing with people from around the beach," he inquired curiously.

“That’s because I was not here the whole summer, just arrived an hour before.”

Felix's reaction was both amusing and endearing. He gasped dramatically, adding a touch of theatrical flair to his response. "No way! We're at the end of the season, and you came just now! Well, I hope you're not leaving before the Sandcastles & Starlight Festival. You might give me a heart attack" he said, placing his hand dramatically on his chest with an exaggerated look of concern.

Laughter filled the air as we both enjoyed Felix's playful theatrics. "Don't worry, I will be there," I assured him with a grin. "My friend won't let me leave before I attend the festival. He said it's either me attending the fest or my lifeless body being dragged back to college," I added in a mock-serious tone.

Felix burst into laughter, the sound mingling with the soothing rhythm of the ocean waves. "Well, it's good to have friends who know how to keep you in line."

“Oh you don’t know Felix, it’s like real hell with him.”

My phone buzzed a notification from Minho, hell is typing.

MINHELL

*Food might wait for you but I won’t*

*Be here before this chicken casserole gets cold or I’ll lick it off. You won’t even get a bite of it.*

“Speak of the devil” I chuckled as I read the notification from Minho. "Well, it looks like I've got a food thief to deal with," I said to Felix with a playful grin. "I better head back before he devours the whole dinner himself. Trust me, he means it when he says he'll eat it all!”

Felix laughed, understanding the predicament. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he leaves you at least a bite," he teased.

"I couldn't have asked for a better lifeguard," I replied. "You saved me from drowning back into my thoughts." a smile appeared on my face at an instant.

"As I said before, I have to keep you safe," he responded, both of us sharing a laugh at his cheesy statement.

As I turned to leave, Felix called my name, causing me to pause and turn back. Curiosity filled my eyes as I waited to hear what he had to say. "Um... if you've got time tomorrow, wanna swing by Coastal Hangover? I'll make sure the first few drinks are on the house. You know, employee benefits," he said with a charming grin.

"You work there too?" I asked, pleasantly surprised by the revelation.

"Yeah, actually my dad runs the place, and I'm supposed to be helping him on Fridays and Saturdays," he explained.

I gasped in amazement. "Oh my goodness! You owns the place? Coastal Hangover is such a classic around here and you just gave me a tempting offer."

He chuckled at my excitement. "Not me, my dad. But I'm there often, helping out and enjoying the atmosphere. So should I be expecting you tomorrow?"

The invitation felt like the perfect continuation of the evening's serendipitous events, and the flow of the moment felt so right that I couldn't resist.

"I would love to be there."

The sight of Minho almost dipping his tongue into the pot sent me into a frenzy. Without thinking, I swung open the backdoor to the kitchen and threw my scrunchie at his face. "No! Get your mouth away from it! I swear I'll kill you," I exclaimed.

Quickly, I grabbed a spoon from the kitchen counter and dunked it into the pot, scooping out enough food to fill my plate. I plopped down on the chair next to Minho, giving him a stern look as he smirked and continued to eat from his plate, clearly enjoying my moment of panic.

His visible mock and playful eyes angered me a little, but I knew Minho loved teasing me. "Just a few minutes late, and I would have cleaned that pot better than a dishwasher," he said with a devilish laugh, relishing in my reaction.

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide my smile as I playfully hit him on the arm. "You know what, you can be such a pain in ass sometimes," I said, pretending to be annoyed, but deep down, I cherished these moments of banter with him.

I couldn't help but burst into laughter at Minho's outrageous response. "Yeah, that pain which occurs when you try holding back poop," he blurted out effortlessly, clearly amused by his own remark.

"Ughh gross! Minho, I'm eating. Keep your shit jokes outside the kitchen, please!" I said, trying to contain my laughter while also pretending to be exasperated with his sense of humor.

Minho's demonic laugh filled the room, and I couldn't help but shake my head at his antics. Sometimes, he really knew how to push my buttons, but at the same time, his playful banter was part of what made our friendship so special.

"Sometimes, I wonder how you come up with these brainy things," I teased, shaking my head in mock disapproval.

"It's a gift," he replied raising his hands up as if he can communicate with gods, still chuckling at his own joke.

I rolled my eyes, unable to hide my smile. "You're impossible, Minho," I said, finally giving in to the laughter that bubbled up inside me.

"But you love me," he said with a mischievous grin.

"Yeah, yeah, I do," I said, playfully nudging him. "You may be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you're my pain in the ass."

In that moment of shared laughter and joy, the room seemed to come alive with the echoes of our cackling and laughter, as if it had never been abandoned for five years. The walls held onto the memories of our giggles, as if these moments had always belonged to this kitchen. The scent of rosemary and lemons filled the air, just like it used to when Mom was still with us, living in these moments.

As we reminisced and created new memories, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of nostalgia. It was as if time had folded back on itself, bringing back the warmth and happiness of those summers we used to have. The room, once filled with silence and emptiness, now resonated with the familiar sounds of laughter and camaraderie.

I glanced around, half-expecting to see Mom bustling around the kitchen, her infectious laughter mingling with ours. It was a bittersweet feeling, knowing that she was no longer physically with us, but she lived on in the memories we held dear.

Minho, sensing the shift in my emotions, reached out and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "She's here with us, you know," he said softly, his eyes filled with understanding.

I nodded, a tear escaping from the corner of my eye. "I know. It just feels like she's so close, yet so far away."

"She lives in our hearts and you’ll definitely gonna feel that, we’re in her territory ," he reassured me.

And he was right. In the laughter and banter, in the warmth of friendship and the beauty of the present moment, Mom's presence was palpable. The love she had poured into this house had become an eternal thread, weaving through the tapestry of our memories.

I checked on the pantry making a list of requirements while Minho cleaned up the dishes.

I have to stay focused and not bring back the tears again. This house should not experience any more of sorrow, mom would have never let a single moment passed without bliss and I won’t leave any sorrows till the end.

___

As I continued to jot down the items on the shopping list, Minho broke the silence with one of his characteristic small talk questions. "How was the stroll to the beach?" he asked.

"Nostalgic," I replied with a smile, recalling the beautiful encounter with Felix and the rush of memories that flooded back to me during our conversation, while scribble a pack of oreo in the list. “By the way, do you remember Coastal Hangover? You and Missy met there for the first time”

"And broke up once the vacations were over, don't remind me of that," he responded with a slight grimace. "But what about it?" he added

“Nothing, I just felt like heading over there tomorrow, what do you thing?” I added spaghetti x2 in the list.

“No way we’re missing Wooyoung’s party for the place I got dumped once.”

“Then, can I go by myself? It’s not like you’re capable of dragging my ass to the party any way”

I retorted, half-teasing and half-serious.

"Nah-uh, I'm not letting you stay alone. Your brother's gonna kill me if I leave you by yourself," Minho insisted, his protective side coming to the forefront.

“Minho trust me, I’ll be fine. You know, you and Chan got to visit here more than me, you two know almost everyone through these parties but for me, this place is becoming more and more distant, I just want to feel belongingness here in my own way too”

Minho looked at me, his expression softening as he understood the sincerity in my words. "I get it, Y/N," he said gently. "And you're right. Chan and I have been coming here for years, and we know a lot of people through these parties. But that doesn't mean you can't find your own sense of belonging here."

He paused for a moment, as if carefully choosing his words. "You're a part of this group, too, and we want you to feel like you belong here. It's just that, I worry about you being alone in a place where you have some memories that may not be the happiest or maybe too happiest to bring them back like they used to be."

“C’mon don’t look down on me, you know that I learned to embrace all my memories, happiest or saddest, doesn’t matter.”

I felt he smiled “I hope now you realized we’re not late here and still have our summer left with us. You were rambling about this the whole time on our way.”

I nodded, “You’re right we still have it”

As we stood together, our conversation took a more heartfelt turn. "I hope I'll be able to keep the essence of this house till the summer is over," I said, my voice soft with sincerity.

Minho turned to face me, his eyes filled with unwavering support “Out of all the people I think you’re the one who can keep the essence of this place just like it has always been and you know I’m here for the help” as if this moment felt warm, it got ruined with him landing both his wet hands of dish washing soap on my shoulders. I could see the bliss of mock in his eyes.

“Ugh! Why am I putting up with you?!”

The vibrant lights of Coastal Hangover painted the evening sky in a mesmerizing display, captivating my senses and filling me with a heady mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. The pulsating music and infectious laughter emanated from afar, creating an electrifying atmosphere that beckoned me closer.

The air was alive with the scent of the ocean and the intoxicating blend of various drinks being concocted at the bar. People swayed and danced in harmony with the music, their laughter blending with the melody, creating a symphony of joy.

I am wearing a delicate crocheted top adorned with intricate patterns hugged my frame, paired with my favorite shorts, which accentuated my legs, it created a relaxed and casual look. I smiled as I recalled the little star necklace that adorned my neck. It was a thoughtful gift from Chan. I trailed my hand one last time through my hair before making my way through the sea of people, catching glimpses of familiar faces and strangers alike. The smell of ocean air mingled with the aroma of soft limoncello fragrance

And then I saw him.

Amidst the crowd, I spotted Felix behind the bar, he looked effortlessly charming in his tropical shirt, the vibrant patterns perfectly complementing his puffy blonde hair. The open shirt revealed just enough of his sun-kissed tone to leave anyone mesmerized, be a sight for sore eyes. His cackling laugh is audible mixing with R&B music, stimulating a smile on my face.

Till I saw him, I was excited to spend a night in this classic place but now for some reason my mind is telling me to turn around and run out of the place, I found myself struggling to tear my gaze away.

As our eyes locked, I couldn't help but feel a surge of electricity between us. Felix's smile was like a beacon of light, drawing me closer despite my initial instinct to step back. It was a grin that spoke volumes.

He waved over as I navigated through the crowd toward the table before a guy crashed his back on me, making me stumble a little. I composed my balance before any of us could have fallen and the guy turned around, spilling apologies. I locked eyes with the guy who had accidentally bumped into me, my heart skipped a beat. Someone I had known from the past, memories flooded my mind, taking me back to a time when Hyunjin used to visit our house for my mother’s personal piano lessons.

"Y/N?" he exclaimed, his eyes widening with surprise. "Is that really you?”

I knew I’ll bump into past once I left my house, but out of all people he was unexpected. This moment opened the envelope of the memories I never knew I had.

“Hyunjin, long time no see” I exclaimed.

He hesitated for a moment, “I didn’t expected you here at all, I remember Chan telling me you started college and I thought now you’ll never come back.”

“Well eventually I did visit less than before but I just thought to pass by this year.”

Hyunjin nodded, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Coastal Hangover has a way of pulling people back, doesn't it?" he said with a soft chuckle.

I just replied with a nod, unable to suppress the memories that flooded back.

"So, how have you been?" Hyunjin asked, his eyes searching mine for any hint of what had transpired in the time we were apart.

"I've been good, busy with college and all," I replied, deliberately keeping my answer vague. There were so many things I wanted to tell him, so many experiences and emotions that I had been through, but it felt too overwhelming to dive into all of that right now.

Hyunjin seemed to sense my hesitation and didn't press further. Instead, he smiled warmly.

My eyes glanced over to where Felix stood behind the bar, chatting with other customers. A pang of guilt washed over me as I realized I got distracted from the reason I came here in the first place. Hyunjin happened to follow my gaze and chuckle after.

“You were going to get drinks, I guess” he exclaimed catching me off guard.

“Oh no, I mean yes, actually I was invited by him. You know Felix?”

“Everyone in this room knows him” his eyes followed up to the bar, “by the way feel free to get back on your way and you should try the Piña colada, it’s a special here.”

This distance felt miles to cover when I was finally sitting in front of Felix.

"Thanks for the recommendation. I'll definitely give it a try," I replied, hinting my depart.

___

"You finally made it my lady!" Felix's cheerful voice brought me back to the present, and I forced a smile in response.

"Yeah, I couldn't resist the allure of this place, lord Felix" I replied, hoping my voice didn't betray the fluttering feeling in my chest.

He giggled at my reply.

“Now, what can I get for you?” he asked flipping a cocktail spoon between his fingers. That long spoon flipping between his small cylindrical fingers left me an unexpected gulp. I’m amazed by this man being capable of luring my eyes on his every detail.

“A Piña colada, please” I answered.

Felix's playful giggle only added to the charm that surrounded him. He seemed to have an effortless way of making everything feel lighter and more enjoyable.

"Piña colada coming right up," he said with a wink, his fingers gracefully moving as he prepared the drink. I couldn't tear my eyes away as he skillfully combined the ingredients with an elegance.

As he handed me the perfectly mixed Piña colada, I thanked him with a grateful smile. Taking a sip, the sweet and tropical flavors on my taste buds instantly transported me to a paradise. I realized that it’s his specialty because it’s just like him, blonde and sprightly.

"Is it to your liking?" Felix asked, his eyes locked on mine.

"It's amazing," just like you.

A soft blush crept up my cheeks as I caught myself thinking that, but luckily, I managed to keep my thoughts to myself. Felix's gaze intensified, and a faint smile played at the corners of his lips, as if he sensed there was more to my words.

"Well, I'm glad you like it," he said, his voice warm and genuine. "And you know, I have a way of making the perfect Piña colada for someone who appreciates them," he added playfully.

I smiled, feeling at ease in his company. "I believe you. You seem to have a talent for bringing a little bit of paradise into everything you do" I replied, unable to resist a playful remark of my own.

Felix's grin widened, and he gave a small bow in acknowledgment. "I must admit, I try my best to make every moment special, especially for someone as enchanting as you," he said, his compliment wrapping around me like a warm embrace.

The air around us seemed to shimmer and I found myself drawn to Felix in a way I couldn't fully explain. There was something magnetic about him, something that made me want to delve deeper into his world and get to know him beyond the lifeguard on duty.

“Let’s sit outside, what do you think? I don’t think we can chit chat clearly in here” he suggested and I nodded at it. He made me follow out from the back door of the bar so that I won’t get my drink spilled in that crowd.

“So, what else you like besides my Piña colada and this place?” he inquires, pulling a patio chair facing the sea for me. Once I was settled he sat on another chair besides me.

I couldn't help but smile at his question, delighted by his interest in getting to know me better. "Well," I began, "besides your amazing Piña coladas and this enchanting place, I love spending time by the ocean. The sound of waves crashing against the shore and the feel of the sand between my toes always brings me a sense of peace and serenity.”

“I know” his eyes locked with mine again, his lips twitched into a smirk “Anyone can read that, it’s all over you”

The rush of warmth that spread through my chest was undeniable, and it took every ounce of self-control not to show how flustered I was. This feeling was familiar, yet unlike anything I had experienced before. It was as if the past encounters that had made my heart race paled in comparison to the intensity of this moment.

The unexpected pause made us look through each other’s eyes. Ocean breeze gently brushed against my skin, the distant sound of music and laughter from inside the bar now a soothing backdrop to our conversation. The view of the sea was breathtaking, the moon casting a silver glow on the rippling waves. No reality has ever been this entrancing.

"And what about the stars?" Felix asked, gesturing towards the night sky above us. "Do you love stargazing too?"

A soft smile touched my lips as I gazed up at the glittering canopy of stars. "Absolutely," I said. "There's nothing quite like lying under a blanket of stars and feeling the vastness of the universe. It makes me realize how small we are in the grand scheme of things, yet how connected we are to everything around us." I faced back to him only to find his gaze fixated on my expressions.

"What are you doing?" I couldn't help but ask, my curiosity mixed with a touch of pink hue that colored my cheeks.

Felix's gaze remained fixed on my face, his eyes holding a depth that seemed to go beyond mere words. "Star gazing," he replied softly, his voice carrying a sense of wonder as if he had discovered something extraordinary in that simple act. As the seconds ticked by, the intensity of his gaze seemed to draw me in, making it hard to look away. The atmosphere around us shifted, leaving both of us momentarily suspended in time, lost in the weight of the emotions swirling between us.

We were interrupted by a high pitch voice from behind us.

“Felix! How could you? How could you cheat on me like this?” I turned back and saw a much taller girl than me having beautiful tangerine curls with her hands on her waist.

I processed her words before I almost stood up from my chair out of this awkward situation, ready to explain. But Felix groaned turning around.

“Stop Sana, she’s just a friend.” He rolled his eyes, “Y/N before she makes you feel in an awkward situation, I’ll clear it, she’s my older sister. You’re definitely not my partner in cheating.”

Relief washed over me as Felix clarified the situation, and I couldn't help but laugh nervously at the misunderstanding. "Oh, thank goodness," I said, trying to ease the tension.

Sana's expression softened as she giggled. "I'm so sorry," she said, "I just saw you two sitting together, and I jumped to conclusions." Now that I heard her giggling, I can tell she is definitely Felix’s sister.

"It's alright, no harm done," I replied, still feeling a little flustered from the unexpected encounter.

Felix gave his sister a nudge. "You need stop freaking every women around me, This is seriously the third time you did this.”

Sana huffed, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Ok I’m sorry. Well, I won't intrude on you any longer. Carry on, I just came to ask where is the crate of malibu but I think remember now where I left it " she said before walking away.

As she disappeared into the crowd, I turned back to Felix, my heart still racing from the unexpected interruption. "Your sister seems spirited," I said, trying to break the awkward silence that had settled between us.

"Oh, she's definitely spirited," Felix replied with a chuckle. "She can be a handful sometimes."

“I think I got an older brother with same personality as your sister” I smiled at the thought of Chan pulling almost a similar stunt like that.

“You have an older brother? I thought you were a single child or something because you know older siblings always keep an eye on younger ones, like Sana, she thinks she’s a detective. ”

I chuckled at his statement “He is keeping eyes on me through our friend. He tailed Minho on me.” I sighed while sipping the last few sips of my drink.

“Minho? Lee Minho, you mean?”

I watched him confusingly “You know him?”.

“By any chance, are you Chan’s sister?” he inquired, turning on my curiosity.

“Yeah, you know him too?”

He gasped at the coincidence played here “This town is small for sure, but I didn’t expected you to be Chan’s sister. You know it’s been so long that I didn’t see those guys,?” he seemed thrilled.

A surge of curiosity washed over me. "How do you know them?" I asked, eager to unravel this unexpected connection.

Felix leaned back in his chair, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, they were quite the characters. We were close, but not really much. They always added their own unique flavor to the party scene. But then, you know how life happens. People move on, priorities shift, and our paths just haven't crossed as much in recent years. Also, I remember watching Minho getting dumped by a girl one day; that might be another reason he specifically stopped his visits."

I pursed my lips in a sympathetic expression, realizing that he had vivid memories of even the regular customers. He even remembered the incident with Minho and Missy.

“I never imagined,” he continued with a thoughtful tone, “I never imagined this place could hold bad memories for anyone. But life has its way of weaving unexpected events into our stories. I just wished it wasn't this place for him. He used to come here more than Chan.”

I nodded, realization hitting me. It was dawning on me that this place, which had once been a haven for Minho and held so many memories, had become tainted by negative emotions. It started to despise Minho, and in response, he stopped swinging by like he used to. The weight of that understanding settled on me, mingling with the sounds of the waves crashing nearby and the distant laughter from the bar. It was a bittersweet revelation, a reminder of how the places we hold dear can change along with the circumstances of our lives.

"It's strange how life works," I mused, a hint of melancholy in my voice. "The same places that used to hold happy memories can sometimes become tainted with other emotions."

Felix nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's like the setting remains the same, but the feelings associated with it change over time. Sometimes, even the most familiar places can surprise us."

He cleared his throat, his simple way to change the mood “Anyway, are they both here with you?”

"Minho is here, as I mentioned before and Chan might show up before the month end" I replied.

“Wow, I’m amazed. How come we have mutual people around us from so long but meeting this year for the first time? Sounds like a perfectly orchestrated plot of a book.”

I smiled at his conclusion, “he's adorable," I thought to myself as the night wore on. It seemed like time had flown by, and I could have spent hours more with Felix, lost in his company. But as much as I wanted to stay, I knew it was getting late, and I had to get some rest.

"Well, I should probably head home," I said, trying to hide the hint of disappointment in my voice.

Felix nodded, understanding the practicality of the situation. "Yeah, it's getting late," he agreed. "But I had a great time tonight. Thank you for keeping me company."

"The pleasure was all mine," I replied with a smile. "I had an amazing time too."

As I stood up from the patio chair, Felix did the same. We walked back inside the bar, and I returned the empty glass to the bar counter. Felix leaned against it, his smile still lighting up the room.

"Maybe we can do this again sometime?" he suggested, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “I’ll be graced to do this again, lord Felix”. His eyes softening at my adored side, forming our cackling laughter.

It felt as though we existed in our own world, isolated from the bustling crowd and the cacophony of music. In a heartbeat, his hand brushed against my cheek, a gentle touch that sent shivers down my spine. With the tenderness of his touch, he swept aside a tangle of my hair, his gaze locking onto mine with crystal clarity. A playful smirk danced upon his lips as he posed the question with swift curiosity,

"Y/N, what thoughts crossed your mind while I was lost in stargazing you?”

I settled onto the stairs of the porch, the cool evening breeze rustling through the leaves as I anticipated Hoshi's return with the slightly inebriated Minho. Earlier, Hoshi had given me a heads-up, mentioning that Minho was proving to be quite the challenge to handle. It seemed that Minho's adventurous spirit had led him down a merry path of revelry, and Hoshi was now grappling with the task of shepherding him back home. As I gazed out into the night, I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Hoshi's predicament. I had known Minho long enough to understand that when he was in high spirits, he could be a handful, I just wondered how come Hoshi forgot this.

As the minutes stretched into an hour of waiting, I found myself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, replaying the mesmerizing evening I had spent with Felix. Each fleeting touch, every locked gaze that lingered for a heartbeat longer than necessary, and the shared laughter seemed to dance through my mind like a vivid dream. It was as if I had been infused with a rush of sugar, my senses tingling with the intoxicating sweetness of those moments. The evening felt like a delicate flute of champagne, each sip leaving me craving more as time ticked away. I savored every drop, not wanting a single moment to slip through my fingers. But even as I soaked in the memories, an inexplicable yearning tugged at my heart. It was as if the enchanting evening had awakened a hunger in me, a desire for something intangible yet profound. I couldn't quite put my finger on what exactly I longed for—was it his time, his words, the warmth of his smile, or even the mingling scents of fresh lime and the raw embrace of the sea breeze? Perhaps it was none of these individually, but rather the sum of their parts that left me yearning for more. It was a craving for something inconspicuous that ran deeper than the surface, a desire to explore the uncharted territories of emotions that had been stirred within me.

I was brought back to the present by the sight of a blue Benz pulling up in the driveway. A guy in a familiar beige leather jacket stepped out of the car and helped a visibly drunken Minho out of the passenger's seat. Minho leaned on him for support as they made their way closer. But as they approached, I realized something was off—it wasn't Hoshi.

“Hyunjin? What are you doing here?” I blurted out, surprise evident in my voice.

“No Y/N call him daddy!” Minho shouted before passing out on his shoulder.

Hyunjin started shaking his head making a sign of discomfort “He’s heavy Y/N, let’s just lay him down first.” he pleaded.

I understood the emergency, immediately pushing the front door open and guiding him to the couch in the living room. He plopped Minho on the couch and I removed his shoes, slowly pulling up a blanket on him. We both sighed as if we just tugged in a toddler to sleep.

I finally burst into laughter at Minho's drunken comment, shaking my head in amusement. "Oh Minho, you never fail to surprise, even in this state," I mused, giving Hyunjin an amused smile.

I can never understand what goes in Minho’s mind that he can blabber shit even when he’s drunk or sober, sometimes he seems crystal clear from the inside and out.

Hyunjin chuckled, looking both amused and exasperated at Minho's antics. "Yeah, he's a handful, that's for sure."

I looked up to Hyunjin “I thought Hoshi will be the one delivering this package” I pointed toward Minho.

“Yeah apparently Hoshi was the original delivery guy but his girlfriend threatened him to reach back home as soon as possible, so this package was tagged on” he replied with a mocking disappointing expression.

I chuckled at the unexpected twist. "Well, it seems like Hoshi's got his hands full with his girlfriend. I hope he survives her wrath."

Hyunjin nodded, a wry smile on his face. "Oh, he will. Hoshi has a way of sweet-talking himself out of situations. He's like a modern-day Casanova."

"That's quite the reputation," I said, shaking my head in amusement. "But hey, at least you stepped in to save the day. Minho owes you one."

Hyunjin grinned. "Oh, he owes me more than one. This won't be forgotten easily."

The night had crept in, the clock ticking past 2 am, as Hyunjin and I remained seated in the very spot where I had been waiting for Minho to arrive earlier. It was a strange feeling again, just like the time had folded back on itself, bringing us full circle. Our conversation flowed seamlessly, weaving between topics ranging from his career to the nostalgia of the summers he spent in this house learning to play the piano from my mother. It was a trip down memory lane, reminiscing about shared experiences and the passage of time.

All of sudden Minho blabbered in sleep and we let go the laugh we’ve been holding through this conversation.

___

As the conversation continued, I found myself drawn into the familiarity and comfort that had always marked our interactions. We had started as friends, bonding over summers and laughter, and as the years went by, our connection had deepened. Until a time came when one of us fell for the other.

"How did you manage to make it to Wooyoung's party when we only met this evening at the club?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. He chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. "You know, I tend to get my fair share of party invitations quite frequently. Just happened to juggle both events tonight," he shrugged as if it were a regular occurrence to be invited to multiple parties in a day.

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his response. "Seems like you're quite the party-goer, then." He grinned, his gaze meeting mine. "Well, I do enjoy a good party every now and then. Keeps life interesting, you know. Also, sometimes my band is asked to perform too” I found myself comparing him to Minho for a moment, thinking about how even Minho, who is very known for his social outings, had never faced the predicament of two clashing parties in a single day during summer.

"By the way, I thought you wouldn't come back here since you've never been for the last five years," Hyunjin asked, his tone shifting to a more serious note. His question caught me off guard, and for a moment, I found myself lost in thought. The night was quiet except for the gentle rustling of leaves in the wind. It was as if the weight of his question had settled over us, making our conversation take on a deeper and more contemplative tone. I had assumed that 2 am conversations were typically reserved for sensitive topics in digital chats, but here we were, delving into a meaningful exchange face to face.

I felt a lump forming in my throat as I grappled with how to respond. His question brought back memories that I had long buried, memories of a time when feelings were raw and emotions ran deep.

I looked into his eyes, searching for understanding, and then finally spoke up. "Hyunjin, it's not about you," I said, my voice steady but carrying a hint of vulnerability. "It's about... a lot of things. A lot happened in those years, and it wasn't just one reason that kept me away." His gaze remained locked on mine, and I could see a mixture of emotions in his eyes. Perhaps he still carried the weight of how he had confessed his feelings to me all those years ago, and how I seemed to have vanished in response.

"You disappeared without a trace," he said softly, his voice tinged with a touch of hurt. I nodded, my gaze dropping for a moment before meeting his again. "I know, and I'm sorry for that. I didn't handle things well back then." We sat there in the midst of the night, the words hanging in the air between us. It was a conversation that had been long overdue, a conversation that required honesty and vulnerability.

Hyunjin sighed, his expression softening. "It's okay, don't feel sorry," he said, his voice gentle. "To be honest, I was too immature for that timing. I should have understood that those days were too precarious to be handled by you alone, and then I threw my feelings into the mix, only making things even more confusing.”

His words held a weight of understanding and self-awareness. I appreciated his honesty and his ability to reflect on the past, recognizing the complexities that had shaped our interactions.

Hyunjin's hand traced upon mine, his touch offering comfort. "No need to apologize," he said sincerely.

"Y/N, you might not know this, but I've been waiting to have this conversation for the past five years," he said, his gaze fixed on mine. The sincerity in his eyes was palpable. "I always imagined hugging you the moment I saw you again, but when I saw you at Coastal Hangover today, I couldn't do it. I was too shocked to process it at first, wondering if… it could be a dream.”

His words held a raw vulnerability, and I could feel the depth of his emotions.

“We both might have moved on from the past to here, at this moment and we both might be changed but my feelings had always been constant for you and it will always be the same.”

Till now I always thought that Hyunjin confessed to me five years ago so that he can pull some pain off my chest, and that thought back then made me stop having feelings for him, he wasn't the only immature. I didn't wanted him to tell me that he likes me so that I can be happy again, forgetting the sorrows of the funeral day.

But today, as we sat together in the quiet stillness of the night, the truth struck me like a bolt of lightning. Hyunjin's feelings for me had existed long before than that confession, long before I had even considered the possibility of falling for him. The realization hit me like a tidal wave – he had been in love with me long before I had even realized my own feelings for him.

The next morning found my self staring outside the window seated in the kitchen, nursing a cup of dark roasted coffee in an attempt to stave off the exhaustion that threatened to consume me. Sleep had eluded me, the events of the previous evening replaying in my mind like a persistent melody. It was astounding how two individuals could leave such a profound impact on me within the span of a single night.

Felix's words lingered in my thoughts, his observations about the emotions that danced across my face as he watched me stargaze. His directness, or rather his unspoken understanding, had caught me off guard. And then there was Hyunjin, bravely laying bare the sentiments he had harbored for years, as if he had been waiting for the perfect moment to unravel his emotions.

The tranquility that had enveloped me just the day before seemed to have been swept away by an unexpected tide. The little castle of calm I had built around myself was suddenly exposed, vulnerable to the crashing waves of emotions that now surged within me. The events of the previous evening had changed the course of my thoughts and feelings, and I knew that moving forward, I couldn't remain stagnant in the safety of my castle. The wave of change had arrived, and it was up to me to navigate its unpredictable currents.

My thoughts were interrupted by a yawn, and I turned to see Minho shuffling into the kitchen, scratching his head. Still clad in his clothes from the night before, he plopped down next to me and absently reached for my cup, taking a sip without much thought. The taste seemed to catch him off guard, and he made a comically disgusted expression, setting the cup back down as if it had betrayed him.

"Oh, what did I just drink? Is this an attempt at homemade poison or what?" Minho exclaimed, his face contorted in a mix of disgust and mock horror.

I chuckled at his dramatic reaction and took another sip from my cup, letting the warm liquid soothe my thoughts. As Minho continued to process the morning after the previous night's escapades, he suddenly groaned and smacked his head on the table. It was a typical Minho move, a clear sign of his frustration when something didn't quite go his way.

"I saw Missy last night," Minho began, and I had a feeling that his encounter with her had led to some interesting developments.

His statement barely registered with me, my mind still occupied with my own thoughts.

"She kissed me," he continued, his frustration evident as he pulled at his hair.

The words hit me like a sudden jolt, and I had to suppress the urge to spit out my coffee. Instead, I ended up choking on it, a fit of coughing overtaking me. Once I managed to regain my composure, I stared at Minho in disbelief, my expression a clear mirror of the "what?" that was on the tip of my tongue.

Minho's revelation immediately swept away all the thoughts that had been clouding my mind since morning.

"I don’t know how it happened," Minho continued, his frustration palpable in every word. "I wasn't even that drunk, but I vividly remember it. And... and she just kissed me after telling me how she missed me and all. I can't remember anything except this, Ughh!" he whined.

His words hung heavy in the air, and I watched as Minho paced back and forth, clearly agitated, as if the act of walking could somehow help him piece together the events of the previous night.

Sensing Minho's escalating emotions, I quickly moved to steady him. Gently, I guided him back into the chair and began to rub his arms in a soothing manner, hoping to help him regain his composure. He rested his head on his hands, clearly trying to collect himself and find some sense of calm amidst the confusion and frustration that had consumed him.

I offered him a reassuring smile, hoping to provide some comfort amidst his turmoil. "It's alright, Minho. Sometimes things like this happen out of the blue. Maybe it was just a momentary impulse on her part. You've come a long way from any feelings you had for her, so don't let this shake you too much.”

“Yeah I know, I just hope I don’t see her again. Ugh… It’s too much for attending just one party, it might been just better if I joined you instead of going that party” he exclaimed.

My response was a sympathetic pursing of my lips as I listened to his predicament.

Curiosity flickered across his face as he continued, "By the way, how did I manage to get home? I can vaguely remember Hoshi leaving the party early."

I thought back to the events of the previous night, the memories replayed in my mind before I answered him, "Hyunjin actually dropped you off last night."

As I shared this detail, I could see a mix of emotions crossing his face – surprise, confusion, and perhaps a touch of realization as well. The shock mirrored the surprise I had experienced when I first learned about the kiss.

"Y/N, do you think we're like some sort of cosmic magnet for strange events? How is it that all these bizarre things keep happening to us simultaneously?" he asked, a perplexed expression on his face.

"It wasn't exactly bizarre," I replied, feeling a bit unsure about sharing the details of that tumultuous night.

"What do you mean? Are you going to tell me what happened?" he inquired, his eyes wide with curiosity.

I recounted the entire conversation I had with Hyunjin the previous night. As I shared the details, I couldn't help but notice the shifting expressions on Minho's face.

"He's still in love with you?" he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

I marveled at how his mind seemed to process my words, eventually leading to that question, especially after his attentive silence throughout my narration.

I responded with a simple nod, feeling the weight of the recent events settling upon us both. The exhaustion of the previous night's revelations and the morning's unexpected surprises had left us in a state of subdued silence.

Breaking the quietude, Minho let out a sigh before posing a question, his gaze fixed on my coffee cup. "Did you feel anything about him last night?" he inquired.

"No," I answered succinctly, struggling to put into words the complex mix of emotions I had experienced. It wasn't just a lack of feeling; it was a tangle of guilt, regrets from my teenage years, and the weight of someone's unspoken emotions that I had carried unknowingly.

"Alright then, let's just leave last night behind us. It's in the past now. Let's imagine ourselves as fresh, glistening mangos after a refreshing rain shower. We have a new day ahead of us!" Minho exclaimed as he stood up from his chair.

It was ironic to hear him use that metaphor, considering his disheveled appearance and the lingering scent of alcohol, while I sat there sipping my black coffee, attempting to shake off the weariness and fatigue.

"Let's go for surfing? What do you think?" Minho exclaimed, instantly shifting the atmosphere in the room.

Minho had a knack for combating negativity by throwing himself into various activities. He had an adventurous spirit, always eager to try new things, even though his swimming skills were rather lacking. Whether it was surfing or a game of volleyball, he'd dive in without hesitation.

I got up, pushing myself to set the cup aside and clean it. "Just a reminder, you don't know how to swim," I cautioned, raising an eyebrow.

He waved off my concern with a grin. "Oh, come on! You're there to save me, honey. You're my lifeguard," he said with his usual playfulness.

As he spoke, my mind drifted back to my initial encounter with Felix. His words lingered in my thoughts: "I have to keep you safe."

My reverie was abruptly broken when Minho flung his leather jacket onto my face. I went from being lost in my thoughts to feeling slightly disgusted by the scent of alcohol that clung to the jacket.

"Put that in the laundry for me," he laughed, clearly enjoying his perfect shot.

An unexpected surge of annoyance made me stretch my arm to toss the jacket back at him, but he darted out of the room too swiftly, narrowly avoiding my aim.

"Minho, I swear if you do this again, you'll be dead," I shouted after him, my voice laced with irritation.

The sun cast a warm and golden glow over the beach as Minho and I made our way to the shoreline, surfboards in tow. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore created a soothing backdrop to the excitement bubbling within us. The salty breeze tousled our hair as we approached the water's edge.

His mocking laughter echoed in reply, a mix of exasperation and amusement filling the air.

___

"Ready for this, Minho?" I grinned, my eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Minho shot me a confident smile, despite the slight nervous flutter in his stomach. "Absolutely. Let's catch some waves."

We laid our surfboards down on the sand, waxing them to ensure a smooth glide through the water. As we strapped on our leashes, Minho couldn't help but admire the vibrant expanse of the ocean before us. The waves rolled in with a steady rhythm, beckoning us to ride their crests.

"Remember, Minho, the key to surfing is balance and timing," I advised, my voice carrying the wisdom of someone who had spent plenty of time in the water.

Nodding, he watched as I demonstrated how to paddle efficiently and catch a wave. With practiced ease, I mounted my board and paddled out to where the waves were forming. He followed suit, feeling a mixture of determination and excitement coursing through him.

Positioning ourselves on the board, Minho paddled, matching my rhythm. My heart raced as we spotted a promising swell approaching. I felt a surge of adrenaline as I pushed up onto my feet, the board responding to the movements. For a moment, I was riding the crest of the wave, the salty spray misting my face.

The sensation was exhilarating, a perfect blend of freedom and connection with the ocean. I got a glimpse of the wave carried Minho closer to the shore, he couldn't wipe the grin off his face. As the wave dissipated, he hopped off the board and waded back with me.

My applause and wide smile greeted him. "Nice one, Minho! You've got the hang of it."

He laughed, the rush of the wave still coursing through his veins. "That was incredible. Let's do it again!"

Minho grinned like a thrilled kid on his first water slide as he emerged from the water after another successful ride. The exhilaration was painted across his face, a mixture of adrenaline and pure joy. He couldn't believe how addictive this newfound experience had become in such a short time.

"Are you sure you don't want to ride another one, Y/N?" he asked, his voice still brimming with excitement.

After a plenty of my water stunts I chuckled, adjusting the teal swim skirt around my waist. The vibrant colors of my bikini ensemble caught the sunlight, creating a playful contrast against the sparkling sea. "I'll take a break for now and enjoy the view."

I settled down on the warm sand, leaning back on my palms as I watched the waves roll in and out. The gentle breeze toyed with strands of my hair, and the rhythmic sound of the ocean provided a soothing backdrop. As Minho headed back into the water, I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over me.

The sun's rays kissed my skin, and I closed my eyes momentarily, embracing the tranquility of the moment. With the passing day before us, I allowed myself to get lost in my thoughts. The sound of Minho's laughter as he caught another wave brought a smile to my lips. It was moments like these that made life feel truly beautiful.

“What thoughts crossed your mind while I was lost in stargazing you?” Felix's voice echoed in my mind.

As the waves continued their rhythmic dance and the gentle breeze lingered on my bare skin, I found myself lost in a moment of introspection. The events of the past night and the day's escapades had finally settled into a quiet lull. With each crashing wave, I felt a sense of calm washing over me, allowing me to reflect on the whirlwind of emotions that had enveloped me.

This place, with its sun-soaked sands and crystal-clear waters, had become a canvas for a new chapter of memories to unfold. The old recollections, once etched into my heart, were now intertwining with the new experiences, creating a tapestry of emotions that were both familiar and unknown. And in the midst of it all, there he was – Felix, his vibrant presence captured in the polaroids of my mind.

I remembered his gaze as he looked at me under the starlit sky, his curiosity evident in his eyes. In that moment, as I met his gaze and felt the warmth of his smile, a mixture of numbness out of getting caught off guard and nervousness had surged within me. But regardless those feelings, I still wanted that ‘something more’ I craved for.

By the time any other notion could cross my mind, a loud scream made me plop up from the sand bed, instantly recognizing the high pitch of Minho. I searched my gaze, finally finding the turned surfing board floating on surface without it’s owner.

"Oh, fuck!" The rush of fear surged through my veins, the moment I scanned Minho's body floating aimlessly in the water. Without a second thought, I sprinted towards the sea, diving in with all my might. My heart pounded in my chest as I swam towards his turned surfing board, desperately trying to cut through the water. My mind was laser-focused on one thing: reaching him before it was too late.

Under the surface, I spotted the leg leash tangled around Minho's body. Panic gripped me, and I immediately attempted to pull him up towards the surface. But the water resisted my efforts, making every movement seem like a struggle against an unyielding force. As I fought to maintain my grip on him, I realized that my actions were only causing us to sink deeper into the water when I felt no touch of surface above my head.

I clenched my teeth and summoned every ounce of strength in my body, but it felt as though the water was determined to keep us submerged. The air in my lungs dwindled, and a sense of desperation took over. The slowly vanishing feel of air in my lungs shot a swift dizziness in my head.

Just as I was reaching my limits, I felt an arm slip around my waist, pulling me upwards. The last sight my eyes saw was the hue of blue and greens of the undersea. Gasping for air, I broke through the surface, my body instinctively kicking to keep afloat. The arm remained wrapped around me, and I leaned against the chest of my savior to catch my breath.

"Are you alright?" Felix's voice cut through the chaos, his own breathing labored.

I turned my head to meet his gaze, his blonde hair glistening in the sunlight. But there was no time for admiration or contemplation. My focus was solely on Minho.

"Minho! I have to get him," I exclaimed urgently, determined to plunge back into the water. However, Felix's grip tightened, preventing me from moving.

"Wait, Y/N! Wait," he urged, pointing towards the shore. My gaze followed his gesture, and relief washed over me as I spotted a figure on the beach, dragging Minho onto a mat. My breaths came in ragged bursts as Felix guided us towards the shore, the waves now a gentle lull compared to the chaotic struggle that had just occurred beneath the surface.

Awareness suddenly flooded over me, and I became acutely conscious of how close I was to Felix. Just moments ago, I had been thrashing in the water, struggling to save Minho, and now I found myself tightly held against Felix's body, his arm securely wrapped around my waist. The contrast between those two moments was staggering, and a rush of conflicting emotions coursed through me.

His touch, once an urgent lifeline, now felt oddly intimate, his fingers firmly gripping my waist as if he could shield me from the sea's treacherous depths. I couldn't ignore the rapid thud of his heart against my back, each beat echoing the adrenaline-fueled chaos we had just emerged from. At first, his closeness sent a shiver down my spine, but gradually, the rhythm of his heart and the gentle rise and fall of his chest began to soothe me.

His breath, warm and unsteady, brushed against the nape of my neck, leaving a trail of comfort in its wake. It was as if our bodies had synchronized, the sea's turmoil now mirroring the calm rhythm of our shared breaths. In that suspended moment, I found myself wondering if he felt the same chaotic blend of emotions that I did.

The crashing waves, once a menacing force, now seemed distant and hushed, as if the world had been muted around us. My gaze flickered to his eyes, his expression unreadable yet strangely comforting. Was he experiencing the same mingling of sensations as I was? Could he sense the sudden shift in the air?

"Thank you, Felix," I said softly as we made our way back to the shore, the tension of the moment slowly dissipating.

His gaze, once fixed on the receding waves, shifted to meet mine. There was an intensity in his eyes, a mixture of relief and concern that seemed to transcend the words he was about to speak. His eyes wandered over my face, as if searching for reassurance that I was indeed safe and sound, as if he couldn't quite believe I was standing there beside him.

For a moment, I felt his fear of loss, his worries etched onto his features. It was as if he was holding on to this moment, desperate to capture every detail, as if he feared that blinking for just a second might cause me to disappear. His eyes traced the contours of my face, lingered on my lips, before finally returning to meet my gaze. And then, he spoke.

"Y/N," he began, his voice carrying a weight of emotion, "I know I have to keep you safe. At all costs."

His words hung in the air, carrying a depth of meaning that went beyond the surface. It was as if he was admitting something profound, a truth that he had held close for a long time. The sincerity in his voice and the vulnerability in his gaze made my heart skip a beat. In that moment, his words weren't just about the events of today – they held a significance that reached much further, into the unspoken moments between us, into the uncharted territory of our feelings.

I didn't know how to respond, how to convey the whirlwind of emotions that his words had stirred within me. So, I simply nodded, letting my eyes meet his in a silent acknowledgment of the connection we had. It was a connection that transcended words, a bond that had been deepened by the shared experience of facing the unpredictable together. And as we stood there, gazing at each other, I felt a warmth spread through me, as if the sun had found its way into my heart.

The closeness of our bodies, the desperation of catching our own breath, latching on each other in this water and some simple words, all of this might be counted as the ‘Something more’ I want from him. Let me rephrase, all of this is the ‘Something more’ I need from him.

Next chapter coming soon.

Please let me know your thoughts, anything you liked or disliked. Just anything, It will bring me a lot courage to write more :)

Also, comment if you'd like me to create a taglist and add you in.

#felix x reader #felix smut #felix fluff #skz fluff #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz smut #fluff #bang chan #lee felix #lee minho #lee know #i.n #han jisung #hyunjin #skz seungmin #changbin

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lenny-rambles · 12 days

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About nothing in particular, a bit of Zolu in general, and some fics here and there

Holy smokes, I've had a week. In between exams, my cat getting lost, more exams and work I haven't got the time to actually ramble about anything, which is pretty sad (to me).

HOWEVER.

This doesn't mean to suggest I didn't read anything at all. Oh no, you'd be greatly mistaken to assume that's the case. I devoured a lot of fics this week, in an attempt to release stress because my house was also inhospitable for some days. So, I decided to read and re-read some fics, because that's how I deal with my problems (that is to say, I don't).

It's very interesting to see how their relationship's been depicted through the years! Like, one of my favorite tags for them is "Devotion" (because that's SO them), and the tag's got 60 works, barely. And it was first used in 2019, for a romance fic. That's barely any time at all in OP time! I don't know why though, maybe everyone knew it but struggled to put it into words (like them). As in, everyone would assume right out of the bat that that's their dynamic. Or maybe not! You can never know with fandoms, the fact that Agenda Piece exists still surprises me.

Also, I've grown the habit of reading through an author's works rather than just searching with tags. Like, if there's a fic I really liked I'll go into their profile and read more. And almost every time they have more! It's always a thrill when they have like old works, it comes to show how much they've improved, and how their characterization also evolves with them!

One of my favorite examples of this, that I discovered this week, is the series Fantastic Idiots And Where To Find Them.

Title: Fantastic Idiots and Where To Find Them (series)

Author: Mir4le

Relevant Tags: magic school AU, ASL brothers (my beloved), Law, Zoro, first person POV, on going, maybe there are ships maybe not

Now, disclaimer from me. No one here's endorsing the terf's work as in "go read her stories, they are good", because they aren't. And giving her money in anyway is terrible (in my humble opinion), she poses a lot of terrible ideas for both Trans and Feminism Activism. I hate the woman, and her story is not even that good. She holds A LOT of unethical and incorrect social theories (like eugenics, ew) in her books, AND REFUSES to reconsider or anything. She thrives in the attention she gets from that, I'm sure. Sadly, nostalgia is a bitch, and her books where probably the first I read entirely in english, and through piracy, so I still have some sort of appreciation for them, as terrible works of fiction as they are.

The good news is that the setting is so unbelievably generic that you could say "generic witch society" and that would do just fine, so that's what I'm doing. It's a generic witch society boarding school AU. Ah, the thing. The fic's written in first person POV (sighs), so if that's no your cup of tea you should stay away. The narration improves, the POV never stops being first person. I'm not exactly a fan of first person POV, but I was looking for fic with Law in them, so I picked it up.

Now, the first few chapters where... an experience. They were the author's first work, and you could tell. I don't mean anything mean with that, it's just Difficult to pin the POV for me, so I struggled a bit. Nevertheless, the prompt was interesting enough to keep me going, even if I kinda rushed through some stuff (sorry). It was also noticeable how much the author liked the characters, and the story, even early on, so that also kept me going. Rarely a story loved that much doesn't improve on quality, both because the strive to be better for the story and all the practice they get by putting it out in the first place. So congrats and thank you to the author for your work, it paid off.

Now, another thing about the fic, I'm not exactly what you'd describe a Law fan. I like his story, it was OP most angsty backstory for a while in my opinion (before Kuma, oh Kuma), so that just drew me in. Sadly, it didn't get me like I wanted to. Maybe it's because I binged the anime in an unholy amount of time (another day I'll talk about that) but by the time we got the why of Law, I just wanted Dressrosa to be done. So while I appreciate his character, the anime just made me want to get over with it. All of that to say that I usually avoid fics with Law, because I just don't like him that much. But I stayed. For the potential this had.

And my staying paid off!!!! It was awesome to see another take on ASL, and adding Law to the mix, not through Luffy, but Ace and Sabo was Not something I was expecting! It is also one of the key factors as to why the fic is so entertaining, you keep trying to imagine how the relationships in canon will translate to the setting. I got a lot of them wrong, it keeps you guessing, I love it. The way it shows Law involuntarily warming up to Ace and Sabo is so good. It feels a lot like something 11 y/o Law would write in his diary, it's cute.

Plot-wise it isn't that strong in the first installment (even the author said so), so you are really looking out for character interactions rather than worldbuilding. So it delivers on that, a bit chopped here and there, but by the time you get to the final chapters (there are like, 5) it's way more dynamic.

Ah, I've run out of juice, all right speedrun.

The whole thing, plot and narration improves a lot. Getting to a point in the most recent chapters where I can say that the author nailed down at least Zoro's and Ace's POV to the t, I can't say for Law though, not my area of expertise.

Surprising to no one, I like the Zoro POV chapters best, because we get Strawhat crew, and Luffy and Zoro, and I really like them.

I like the professors and classes they teach they teach. Who is which head of house and all that, nice, very in character.

Whitebeard's kids are a thing here, and I love it, they are fantastic.

Oh, Robin in particular has a lot going for her in the fic, you should also stay for her, if you are a fellow Robin fan.

The shenanigans are AU typical, that's not bad at all, I like how much emphasis they give to pranks and all.

CORAZON IS ALIVE AND WELL, more beautiful things.

Idk, I wish I could tell you more but I kinda read the whole thing for the experience and enjoyed it a lot. Even if it's unfinished.

Oh well, I guess that's it.

Also, "When All the Embers Die" also updated, as well as the other Zoro fic from the same author. And "Treasures for your Treasure (The Pearls Pale in Your Eyes)" ALSO updated, a Zoro update (thanks author) to say the least. I might say some things, I might not, probably I will, once I'm out of this hell hole called midterms.

Anyways, if you read this far thank you very much. Please read the fics mentioned above, even if it's for the experience, they are wonderful stories.

#rambles #txt #zolu #zolu fanfic #fanfic

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constantineshots · 2 months

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Hey, what is your top 10 hellblazer issue?

TOP TEN HUH.

well, i wouldn’t put them in order, nor do I remember issue numbers off the top of my head. more specifically moments. it’ll be under the read more for a long, long post. some trigger warnings for abuse.

i like the first issue for nostalgia and the way it manages to show us john constantine as a character, and somewhat to outsiders. we see him as a human . . . and then his descent into what he see him doing every day because he’s a bit silly (racists are scared of him, for example, but that doesn’t really have to do with the magical aspect of john and more of his political one). it shows us who he is without necessarily delving too deeply into the world of magic, even if it’s just a glimpse.

another that really tickles my brain is technically a couple, but the specifics of newcastle. throughout hellblazer, it’s very much up in the air what actually happened and we only know the end results, because no one talks about it. however, while it is early on in the series, we get to learn about why this affects john as much as it does, and afterwards, how most of it was just pinned on john because of course the police don’t know much about the magical world. i think my favorite aspect is how, when we see him in ravenscar, magic is more of an ‘addiction’ of his as opposed to being a tool. yet he’s in there because they think he’s “loony” as it’s put then, but that’s a separate issue. count that one in this list of ten too, i think.

okay. i know. this one’s less traumatic and technically isn’t part of the original 300 of hellblazer. but. i thought the unicorn thing was actually hilarious. though honestly, i think since the original run ( and let’s be honest, even among some of the writers for the original ), simon spurrier is up there with some of the best hellblazer authors. BUT. i thought the pretty unicorn murdering people and shit was kind of amusing. sorry. i loved it.

another one of my favorites is the one where john is,,, so there’s this lesbian couple that wants to get pregnant. and one of them decides to essentially flirt with john and try to get him to sleep with her, and of course, it turns out with john being like “you could have just asked.” and it puts into perspective a lot of the things that he deals with, the ways people treat him. the things he faces. it’s a lot to take in. and the whole thing about wanting someone to hold you so you feel less alone….

tumblr is fucking with my spacing. how cruel. sorry for the squished lines </3

but anyways, onto number seven i think. personally, i really like the one where he broke ho with kit, and it’s because of two reasons: one, because it shows kit. i love her! but what i mean is that she is a take no shit kind of girl, and while she’d already explained this, it really shows it. people have said “oh fuck you john” and yada yada and end up back in his life again (no shade, chas). kit? she said “john, if you get magic into my home, i’m OUT.” and she fucking meant it too. she got attacked (and she handled it! love that for her) and then kept that boundary. i love her for being a strong character- not physically, necessarily, but keeping her boundaries, too. and also, it shows us what john is like when he’s losing something he really cares about. he acts like a cornered animal. he shouts and tries to say shit that will hurt you (like calling kit cold) because he’s scared. while we already knew this, it’s a very big throw in your face moment about how much of a piece of shit john can be, especially because this was a long-term relationship. and then, of course, he ends up depressed and homeless and doing his best to drink away his problems.

and i know this is going to sound horrible, but the one where john is like. literally discussing how he pretty much made his father sick with a spell and a dead cat (if i recall correctly) because of all the shit that his dad did to him and how he was treated. to me, it made sense. he found a way to defend himself. magic was that outlet of his own protection, his own defense, a way to try little by little to keep himself safe. really connected to me in a way- growing up, i had an abusive parent, and i could understand why he did what he did, because i wouldn’t have done any different.

AND THERE’S THIS ONE WHERE. john makes a statement about not trusting priests because of the fact that one attempted to assault him, but there’s a story where john is going through that story, and john sees the priest again. he has a panic attack first and foremost, and i think, to me, it’s one of the very first depictions of a mental health struggle. not necessarily in hellblazer- mainly because this is a story that handles a lot of hard topics and, depending on the writer, it’s done rather well- but in comics overall. it also shows that yes, priests can be villains too and take advantage of people, and that was a rather controversial topic during that time period. hell, it’s even controversial now, and we have stories of it happening all the time.

and ten. honestly, picking these was a bit difficult because i love a lot of hellblazer, but here we are. i, personally, enjoy mike carey’s run a lot (i LOVE lucifer. so i already knew i was in for it.) the arc where we’re seeing how much john cares for his sister and that he’s literally going to hell (okay maybe this isn’t that impressive because he’s always there) to get her back. with nergal! the fucking asswipe! but it also focused a lot on tony being very religious, and gemma, and how affected everyone was. gemma wanting to be like john and john shooting her down. there’s a lot to handle- like john’s…. children… that came about from odd circumstances…. maybe i’m biased here. ANYWAYS. good fun!

but i despise. and i mean DESPISE. anything after 250. i will never touch it again. i barely got through it the first time. again. DO NOT READ. ANYTHING PAST 250.

and i hated the original justice league dark run. probably because of milligan. fucking hate that guy. but regardless. you asked for hellblazer issues. technically some of these are arcs. BUT HEY! here you are :D

#asks #john constantine #hellblazer #sorry for the yap session #as my little brother would call it

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cow-rants · 2 months

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With the announcement that Rooster Teeth will be shutting down, I just want to rant about the series they made and the way they contributed to my childhood and life overall.

I actually know what first introduced me to Rooster Teeth, in fact I remember my first video I watched. It was back in 2012 or 2013, around the time I was first getting into Halo. My dad had downloaded a Halo fan app on the family iPad. It just so happened to also include a series of videos called “Fails of the Weak”, by Achievement Hunter. I still revisit that series every now and then just for nostalgia. But after I finished watching everything that they had come out with, I decided to look for more things from them. And that started my love for Rooster Teeth and Achievement Hunter.

I watched Let’s Play for a few years before I discovered Red Vs Blue which instantly became one of my favorites. Not long after, I discovered RWBY. And the latter became my absolute favorite show ever. Both shows brought me joy and even taught me some things about myself that I hold close to me.

RvB showed me so many flawed and stupid characters that worked together, willingly or not, to do something to better the world and galaxy around them. It made me yearn for a group of people in my life, which I’ve found since then. Something about the freelancer arc specifically connected with me. Maybe it was Carolina and her father, maybe it was Epislon’s search for identity, or maybe it everything mixed together. Regardless, the show did a lot to make me realize how much I wanted a community. And further, that to be a part of a good community, I need to be a better person.

RWBY did even more than that. It gave me my favorite character, yet another group of idiots, and easily one of my favorite storylines ever. RWBY helped me discover my identity, it brought me to tears numerous times, and so so so much more. The show holds a special place in my heart as one of my favorite pieces of art ever. The idea that it could possibly end without a proper ending makes me scared, nervous, and melancholic. Ruby Rose specifically became my comfort character and is honestly the kind of person that I want to be.

Aside from their IPs, I really do wish the best for the employees that will be losing their jobs with RT's shutdown. I hope that they can find another, more stable place to support themselves and/or their families. They've worked so hard all these years to bring different ideas and visons to life for the public and created so many wonderful things.

While RT has certainly had its ups and downs over the years, and certainly no stranger to controversy, I'm still deeply saddened by the announcement of their shutdown. I wish everyone at RT luck in finding new places to work and hope that their IPs receive the endings they deserve.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to rewatch RWBY for the 30th time. Or is the 40th?

#rooster teeth #rooster teeth shutdown #rwby #rvb #achievement hunter

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ettadunham · 1 month

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inon zur, the man you are.

is this cheating? maybe. possibly. probably.

okay, so context. i have been doing this thing where i play a random adventure game spit out by a random generator program i created (because i'm a nerd). as a result, every now and then, you'll find a short write-up about some weird obscure little video game on my tumblr blog. it's just one of the many things that you have to put up with if you decided to follow me for whatever reason. sorry.

then one day, said randomizer spit out syberia 3, and let me tell you, i was delighted! this was the first time i had a game i already played on my list, so obviously, this meant a replay. but not just any replay. i now had to replay the entire series! obviously.

is this what i've done for other games that came up before? no. but you guys don't understand.

syberia is my special little guy.

syberia 1 and 2 are not only largely the reason for my long-lasting obsession with adventure games, they have arguably raised me. i am the human person i am today because i played syberia while listening to complicated by avril lavigne when i was 12. these are the foundations and building blocks of my personality. everything that's wrong with me comes back down to this.

so, yeah. to say that i was excited to get back to this one is a slight understatement. i was vibrating on a frequency previously undetected in human physiology.

i also start with all this to emphasize that, yeah. i have my rose-tinted nostalgia glasses on when it comes to these games. that doesn't mean i don't have my criticisms, especially looking at the game today, but... i cannot not love syberia. it's just science.

i should probably talk about the game itself at some point though, right? i can't just assume that the one person reading this (i see you! hey! thank you <3) is as familiar with the ins and outs of voralberg automatons as i am. so, let's do a synopsis.

syberia is a 2002 point-and-click game about a lawyer named kate walker, who hyperfixate on her work mission to find an old man a bit too much, while going on a train adventure with an autistic-coded automaton named oscar. hijinks ensue!

the game was designed by french developer benoît sokal (rip, king) as a follow-up to his previous game, amerzone. as a kid, i have played through all of his games i could get my hands on, but it's been a while, so i can't quite tell you how much those hold up. from what i remember, he definitely liked his adventurer protags... as well as some potentially questionable depictions of made-up indigenous people.

...let's circle back to that after syberia 2.

but yeah, while we're here, let's actually get some of my criticisms out of the way. this is a game from 2002 written by a french dude and... you could say that it's of its time among other things. for instance the man kate is looking for is mentally disabled, and the game is a bit too liberal in its use of the 'r' word to describe him. (and yes, it was considered an offensive and derogatory term in 2002 too, people were just more inclined to use it back then.)

there are other aspects of the game that one might critique as well, that i mostly find charming. the dialogue is at times clunky (almost as if it was written by someone whose native language is not english...), but the voice actors do a nice job adding character (and possibly tweaking their lines just enough) that it absolutely works on me to this day. it's a little wacky, a little silly, the puzzles sometimes require some pixel hunting, but that's just how these games work!

this one also had the cocktail puzzle, which, in my opinion, is one of the best in the entire series. it really has everything! when i become super rich, i'm going to build that cocktail machine in my house.

other highlights of the game include the big communist boi looming over you in komkolzgrad and just... any other automaton or mechanical machinery in the game. including your train, obviously.

the overall aesthetics of the game? immaculate! i want all my devices to work with a wind up mechanism now.

the one thing though that, in my opinion, truly elevates syberia over its contemporaries is its music. god, the music!!! most people might be familiar with inon zur through his scores for games like the later fallout or dragon age games, but to me, he's always gonna be the guy who went so insanely hard for this somewhat niche little adventure game series.

his score coupled with the automaton designs and the beautiful scenery? absolutely breathtaking. prettier than any modern game.

youtube

in conclusion: kate walker, call me!

EDIT: as it was just pointed out to me by @greyaged, the first syberia game was actually scored by nicholas varley and dimitri bodiansky, and only from syberia 2 onwards did inon zur become the series' main composer. needless to say that they all did a fantastic job, but i definitely want to give an extra shout out to varley and bodiansky here, now that i know that they were the ones responsible for this particular game's score. the tracks and motifs they introduce here carry over to zur's scores, and they definitely cement syberia's legacy as a game series with one of the most memorable video game soundtracks in my book. <3

#adventure game extravaganza #mse's playing adventure games #mse's replaying syberia #syberia #video game #Youtube

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bluepeachstudios · 1 year

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Hello again! Hope you’re having a good day! 😁

My question this time is, if you had to rank the TMNT series from your ultimate fave to your least fave, what would you pick and why? 😄

Thank you! 😊

Hello! I got four hours of sleep but otherwise yeah I'm doing okayish.

OUGH okay-- here me out-- I'm doing this by my personal tastes, this is not what I think is the "best" show objectively. By "series" I'm going to assume you mean the TV show series, because if I get into the comics this is gonna get messy fhgkdfjg

2003 (personal favorite, I love the story and the characters so much, the animation still holds up, I have nostalgia bias for it)

Rise (absolutely gorgeous animation, the story is great, the characters are great, honestly if they'd gotten a full second and third season like they wanted it would probably be my favorite)

2012 (fun character dynamics, a long show which I know throws a lot of people off because the pacing can be ough sometimes but I enjoy the content, I... Highly disagree with a lot of the writing choices they made but the amount of POSSIBILITIES also the turtles tell each other "I love you" and that's a lot of points)

1987 (this show!!! is really cute!!! and fun!!! but I can only handle a little of it at a time. There's no cohesive storyline except for like, three seasons I think? The humor is fun, the animation is.... both bad and really good at times. Very unreliable. Very cute turtles tho 10/10)

The Next Mutation (THAT'S RIGHT I BROUGHT IT UP. I'm still only halfway through this one because we only watch 2 episodes every other week but OUGH this show can be so fun to laugh at. The amount of sound effects, ridiculous. Venus, I love her. They do take the Bold Stance of pulling a "we're not blood related" even though they most likely would be??? just to have a romantic plot with Leo and Venus?? which hasn't come up yet, but ough I am so afraid for when it does. The costumes aren't great, the story's not great, if this was a fan-made project I would be really impressed but this was a full production thing and just-- jesus fhgkdjfg)

#asks

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wiggles-mcgee · 4 months

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OPINIONS ON GRAVITY FALLS

OK SINCE YOU ASKED I WILL ANSWER WITHOUT GIVING SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2!! Because I know you've not seen it yet. Not sure how much of this is opinions and how much is just rambles though.

First, context, Gravity Falls is a show I have been obsessed with since it came out. I own a copy of Journal 3 and Dipper's hat and can't wait to get the Book of Bill when it comes out. So my opinions are gonna be biased!!

The greatest episode of Gravity Falls and my favourite of all time is S2Ep4: Sock Opera (watch the episode and you'll understand why, though please watch the rest of that season too haha). No further questions needed, it speaks for itself in every second of that episode.

My favourite episode from Series 1 would have to be either Legend of the Gobblewonker or Dreamscaperers. Both are fun to watch and have sweet endings and notes to it, as well as incredible comedy and great pacing. They hit so good every time.

Boyz Crazy is one of my least favourite episodes because it reminds me of primary school where everyone was feral about One Direction and I just didn't get it at all, but I still find it hilarious.

Most of my least favourite episodes involve some kind of romance subplot - thats not to say all romance centric episodes are bad, I just find it less interesting to me when it turns out Mabel's new crush is Regular Guy (Normal Man) and not five gnomes in a hoodie. Or oh look Dipper is crushing on Wendy, what's new? Its probably because I never really related to it.

My favourite character is Grunkle Stan. He's funny and a weird old man, as Mabel eloquently puts it. He's gruff, sweaty, wrinkled, and a bit of an asshole. And he cares so much for his family. He tries and thats what counts. Also his absolute lack of shame about cash - like in Double Dipper where he launches himself at that dollar bill - and conning and scamming tourists out of their money is so hilarious to me. Grunkle Stan is dear to my heart and will always be my favourite character.

Pacifica is another one of my favourite characters! She gets a fair bit more character development in the second series, and I still find myself laughing at every interaction the Pines family has with her when I rewatch the show - she's hilarious in every sense of the word. Her growth as a person is really nice to watch.

If I met Tambry irl I think I would inevitably punch her, I cannot lie, she frustrates me too much

Bill Cipher my beloved <3 (you'll see why when he shows up again in season 2)

I have rewatched this show many times since it came out and I firmly believe that so many of the jokes still hold up to this day. It shaped my sense of humour greatly. And the best bit about being older is that now I get all the jokes I didn't get as a kid!!!

My favourite running joke is Guy Who Married A Woodpecker!! He just shows up every now and again and we see a snapshot of his failing marriage and I love him.

The pool guy is objectively and unironically one of the funniest people alive. As is Quentin Trembley, 8½th President of the United States, who also absolutely shaped my personality and humour.

Certain episodes in the later half of Series 2 tone wise feel like they should have been at the start of the series or in Series 1, and the series does suffer for it in my opinion. Of course its a kids show, you don't want it to get too dark, but I feel like some parts of that series just felt inconsistent to the rest of it. Of course the rest of that series is absolutely stellar in my opinion, most of my favourite episodes are in that series, so its swings and roundabouts I suppose.

The Wendy crush is nothing short of frustrating to me every time I see it. Had to reiterate this, and I get that people don't get over crushes quickly, but especially in Series 2 it frustrates me. tbh I probably had a crush on Wendy too as a kid I cannot lie.

The ending is so sweet to me and makes me want to cry or actually cry every time, not just for nostalgia, but because it hits me hard and emotional in so many different ways. No spoilers yet!

And ending it with a really strong opinion here, you should watch Series 2 (a shameless suggestion, I don't regret it)

#wiggles answers #gravity falls #long post #wiggles chats with the void #i have more thoughts #but might have to add those later

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farfromstrange · 5 months

Text

Foreigner's God: Chapter 55

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Chapter Summary: She moves back in with Tony, Pepper and Happy at Avengers Compound. Her decision to prioritize her recovery over the man she loves weighs heavy on her shoulders, and now she has to push through. The question is just, will it help or will it further break her (and possibly Matt, too)?

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of addiction, mental illness, therapy, lots of crying, Eliza's POV

Word Count: 5.8k

A/n: And I am back! I am so sorry for the long ass hiatus and irregular updates, but I have really struggled with this series. It took me longer than usual to write this chapter, so the next ones will also be coming very irregularly until I've figured out how to make my vision come to life. I just wanted to set the scene for this new storyline with this chapter. There's going to be more plot in the future. I just had to start somewhere.

Read Chapter 55: Why am I like this? here on AO3!

The Avengers Compound had become a foreign place to her. She never thought she would move back to where it all began. The most defining years of her life held their roots in those four walls.

When Eliza first stepped through the door, she contemplated whether or not she had made the right choice. Leaving Matt had left a gaping hole in her chest.

Things weren’t moving forward and she was losing herself. She couldn’t risk hurting him again the same way she had before. Her last relapse had to remain the last. Her heart was heavy, but sometimes, she remembered Natasha telling her, it is necessary to choose yourself.

“Ah,” Tony greeted her with open arms when she arrived, “The prodigal daughter returns!”

Eliza rolled her eyes, but a soft, exhausted smile still found its way to her lips regardless. “Hey,” she greeted him back.

Pepper stood next to him. She looked almost relieved to see her again, and unlike Tony, she didn’t care much about her personal space. Her arms wrapped around her, engulfing her in a bone-crushing hug.

“Welcome back,” her breath tickled her ear, her voice remaining barely above a whisper. “We missed you around here,” she said.

She expected to hear that. Nothing was the same without you. That sentence alone felt too much like standard practice for her to take it seriously, but Eliza forced a smile nonetheless. Pepper never did anything wrong. She couldn’t help who she was, and she didn’t want her to change either. It offered a welcome distraction.

It was only a temporary fix, she kept telling herself. A temporary solution to resolve a bigger problem. She had a disease and her own fair share of trauma, but it could be managed. She had to be open. She had to allow others to help her. And she had to put herself first for once in her life.

Setting foot into her old room for the first time proved to be… strange, to say the least. She walked right into a wall of nostalgia. It twisted in her chest, wrapping its greedy claws around her heart and pulling—hard.

The bed had been neatly made by someone who cared about her and her comfort, most probably Pepper. The clothes she had left before she moved out lay on the mattress. Neatly folded with a few of her favorite chocolates on top. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

She remembered all the tears she shed in that very bed. The times she had laughed with Natasha by her side, painting her nails and hoping, praying, that it would last. It didn’t. It was never meant to last. The family she’d once had broke apart and she found herself standing in the ashes of what once had been with bare feet and broken glass.

Eliza's fingertips grazed the surface of the dresser, tracing over the faint marks she'd left behind—signs of a past that was simultaneously too distant and painfully recent. Tattoos of a life she had long left behind.

She carried the reminders of her past on her skin every day, but skin isn’t the only organ capable of holding scars. A home can suffer and inflict scars the same way the human body does, it’s just never as obvious.

Her eyes lingered on the framed photo of her friends—her family—their faces frozen in a moment when they believed they could conquer anything. They won once; back then, they believed if they could save New York City from an army of aliens, they could do anything. They could survive anything. Tony formed and shaped an amazing team of misfits who had never considered working together before. One day, one unfortunate event, and they became a family.

Eliza hesitated before unfolding the pile of clothes. She ran her fingers over the familiar texture of the fabric. She didn’t remember the last time she consciously thought about what she was going to wear or what impression she would make on the people around her. It had been a while since she cared about anything other than surviving—a while since family had still somewhat mattered.

It had all turned into a scrambled mess where priorities no longer remained straight.

The door creaked open. “Hey,” Happy poked his head in, “Need anything?” he asked.

She wasn’t sure how to answer that. “Just… time,” she said, offering a small, appreciative smile. Happy nodded, but he didn’t move from his spot in the doorframe.

He took a deep breath. A beat of silence followed, and then, “In case I haven’t told you before, I’m really glad you’re here, kid.”

“Thank you.”

He had told her that before, but it didn’t hurt to hear it again.

“I know it wasn’t an easy choice to make, but I think… I think you made the right one. You deserve a break. And this place is your home. You’re always welcome here. We love you,” he said.

His words sounded distant. She could hear him, but she struggled to believe him. If she’d truly made the right choice, why was it hurting so much? It was her choice. She knew what she was getting herself into. Or maybe, just maybe, she didn’t.

This time, when she didn’t answer, Happy pushed himself off the door frame. He left her without another word. He told her everything he could, and she was well aware that there was nothing Happy wouldn’t do for her. Right now though, she needed peace. Nothing more.

Once the door shut behind him, she inhaled a deep breath.

Eliza had packed her bags with what little belonged to her. It wasn’t much. She left more of her heart behind than her belongings, and perhaps her scent that still lingered in the walls of Matt’s apartment.

While packing, she had made sure to sneak one of Matt’s shirts into her luggage. It smelled like him, and she needed something to remind her that he was still real. That he was still there, even if he wasn’t directly by her side.

Being wise, making the right choice—being a human being with feelings proved to be so much harder than she expected.

The need to make her guilt so much worse rose from the ashes of her tendency to self-destruct. That tendency was a phoenix, and it would never truly die, no matter how many times she set it on fire to get rid of it. There was no way out of the spiral except for her to play along with it.

As she stared out of the windows of her room in the now-empty Avengers Compound, the tears relentlessly began to burn their way out of her eyes.

She clung to the necklace around her neck, Matt’s initial on the puzzle piece that represented their love. She never took it off, not even to shower. She promised him as much when he gifted it to her. He was a part of her, and the necklace was proof of that.

Her fingers traced the delicate Braille on the pendant. Thanks to him, she knew what it meant. She knew a few things now. She remembered the alphabet, but reading it was different. He had tried to teach her once, but she got distracted by his fingers stroking over the paper, and then they never continued.

Thanks to Matt, the world started looking differently. She started viewing it differently. She no longer only relied on her sight but on the other four senses as well, sometimes even more than that. He taught her what it was like to laugh again, to smile, and to actually mean it. He made everything a little lighter. He made her forget.

But, and she had to remind herself of that, forgetting isn’t dealing with the problem at hand, and she could no longer just forget. She had to work through her issues. Matt made life and the suffering linked to it a little easier, but she had taken the bliss that came with it for granted. The bliss of ignorance, so to speak. She ignored the warning signs, and she might have caused permanent damage to herself.

There was no time, she kept telling herself. There was no time to focus on herself with everything going on around her. After meeting Matt, she found a piece of herself that had long gotten lost. She found the thrill in the chase again. In the process, she found herself and who she truly was. She found her past. She pushed through it. Perhaps she pushed a little too much.

Recovery is a process that the affected person needs to be okay with, something they need to want, but Eliza pushed it all aside in the hopes that Matt’s love would magically turn her okay, that it would turn her normal; she had been foolish to think that love could heal all her emotional wounds, and that just a little therapy that she way too often neglected could fix her, and now her foolishness was coming to bite her in the ass.

Leaving Matt behind though was one of the hardest things she ever had to do.

It all happened so fast yet passed by in slow-motion. Only a few hours ago, she had still been in his arms. Now, she was alone. And the moment she stepped through the door of his apartment and left remained ingrained in her mind, probably forever. She wasn’t sure if she would ever not feel guilty about it. She shattered his heart. It had been so obvious even though he tried to hide it, and she blamed herself for doing it. The pain was eating her alive.

Her eyes closed and the last minutes at Matt’s apartment replayed over and over again like a bad movie.

Eliza woke up with him by her side, but that very feeling of relief washed over into emptiness. She was exhausted, tired beyond compare, while Matt’s chest had never felt more alive with the pain that seemed to burn through every muscle and every fiber of his being. He had to listen to her heavy breaths as she packed everything she kept in his apartment, and the sound alone made him want to scratch his eyes out.

It tainted his heart and his mind. Hell seemed so close yet so far away. This had to be a cruel cycle concocted by God himself to make him suffer for all that he did because it wasn’t fair. The world wasn’t fair.

Eliza dropped her bags on the dining table. The nagging feeling she harbored inside was a mixture of guilt and shame. She only hesitantly looked up to meet his eyes. She wished to be able to take back what she said or what they did the night before, but she couldn’t.

They both knew that giving in for the sake of not being apart was no way to approach this. In the end, they were both masochists.

He cleared his throat into the thick silence that hung over their heads, ready to bring the knife down on them. “Uh, did you pack your hairbrush?” Matt swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s just that… well, you always forget your hairbrush,” he said.

She nodded. “First thing I packed.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah,” she said.

He reached for the orange capsule on the fridge. “Don’t forget your pills.”

Their fingers brushed when Matt handed the medication to her. Electricity coursed through her veins. She took the capsule only to set it down and take his hand in hers. “I’m sorry,” was all Eliza could whisper back to him.

“Stop apologizing,” he said.

“I feel like I have to.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for.”

Matt tugged her closer, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. She squeezed his hand. He could feel her pulse drumming against his sensitive skin.

“I love you,” he leaned down, his lips ghosting over her forehead, “and that won’t ever change.”

She leaned into the kiss. “I love you too.”

He held her steady with his hand on the back of her head. The world didn’t have anything on her. She couldn’t deny that she was safest in his arms and that anything beyond that seemed impossible to master without him, but that was precisely the problem.

She was dependent on him and by doing so, she forced him into a state of co-dependency because he felt responsible for her. He cared, sometimes too much. She couldn’t blame him. She had often enough posed a danger to herself in the past. Their relationship was anything but healthy. They kept continuously hurting each other. Eliza couldn’t do that to him anymore. Matt deserved a chance to heal just as much as she did, possibly even more. She wasn’t doing this to be selfish; she was doing it for him.

The ringing of the doorbell broke them apart, followed by a soft knock. With a heavy heart, Eliza grabbed her bags. Happy greeted them at the door. He looked happy, relieved almost. She was coming home, something he had never thought possible ever since she first moved out of the compound into her apartment.

The second her name had popped up on Tony’s phone, they knew something was wrong. She had told them that she needed a place to stay, a support system, a chance to work through all that happened, rekindle old relationships, and simply get the therapy she needed in a secluded space that was far away from the mess she came out of. She couldn’t control everything at once, no matter how hard she tried. The chaos she used to control became a distraction.

Tony saw it as an opportunity to fix their relationship in person, and Happy was simply happy that she chose to ask for help instead of running herself to the ground again. He couldn’t bear losing her.

When he saw Matt’s pained expression though, he felt bad. He had become somewhat of a friend to him, someone he talked to from time to time, someone who loved Eliza even more dearly than anyone else in her life, it seemed, and Happy was endlessly grateful to him.

But Eliza made her decision and she usually got what she wanted, even though this time her decision was a plausible one and the people around her had never been more willing to get her what she wanted.

Happy took the bags from her. He took a few steps back, leaving the couple room to say goodbye. It was the least he could do.

Standing in the doorway, Eliza took Matt’s hand again. His grip grew impossibly tight. He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against his chest. There was a hickey on her throat that pulsated from the night before. He had marked her up well enough to last for a few days, but it was only a small victory that felt less like something positive now than something he dreaded.

The blood rushed under her skin. Her heart thudded relentlessly against her ribs. The hesitation in her eyes was evident even to him, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her back into the apartment and lock the door.

“I’ll come back,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She tried to convince them both, it seemed. “I promise, I’ll come back.”

He sniffled, pressing his forehead against hers. He breathed her in. She showered with his body wash again, and even washed her hair with his shampoo. The clothes were undoubtedly hers, but the scents that mixed on her skin with the memory of the intimacy of the night before overwhelmed him.

“You have to let me go, Matt.”

“I know,” he choked out, “I just don’t want to.”

She caught one of his tears with her finger. “I’m gonna miss you.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”

“I wish things weren’t as fucked up as they are so I could stay, but I can’t…”

“I know,” he shushed her. “I know, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’m not blaming you.”

Eliza swallowed the sob that lay on her tongue. She stood on her tiptoes and captured his lips in a bruising kiss.

She pulled away after a moment. As she caught her breath, she looked into his teary eyes with tears of her own. “You have to let me go, Matt,” Eliza repeated.

His head dropped into the crook of her neck. Matt made a sound of disapproval.

The sniffle didn’t go unnoticed, and he smelled the salt in the air. “Please, baby,” she said again. “Don’t make it harder than it already is.”

Her words fell on deaf ears. Ears that were overwhelmed along with his other senses. Matt was tied to the stake and being burned alive. At least that was how it felt to him. Letting her go, his mind told him, was a death sentence to everything he had grown to hold so dear. He was afraid of losing her.

The sob rolling off of Matt’s lips got muffled through the fabric of her shirt.

“Let me go,” she stroked a hand through his hair, trying to pull him back, “Please.”

His grip tightened around her waist. “I can’t,” he said.

“You have to,” she repeated. “You have to let me go, Matthew.” Her voice grew more stern, even though the softness remained. She tried her hardest not to let the tears win.

Matt continued hiding his face in her neck. He wasn’t sure what he expected his pathetic attempt to stop her from leaving would bring him, but there was something about her warmth that made him feel like he couldn’t live without it, so he could not, for the life of him, let her go. It was impossible.

He was paralyzed, his fingers stiff as they dug into her hips through the shirt she was wearing. Her heart heaved with sobs and he wanted nothing more than to make her feel better. He could fix her, he just needed her to stay. The thought kept rolling like a defective movie tape, and it drove him further into the river of insanity. Or, it felt like insanity, anyway.

He couldn’t fix her. There was nothing to fix, only to heal, and he wasn’t strong enough for the both of them. He was broken too, and that was no place for her to get better. He would drive her into doing things she wasn’t stable enough for over and over again, and then he would lose her. Permanently.

She pressed her lips against his ear. “I’m gonna be okay, I promise. We’re gonna be okay, but I have to go. You know I have to go. So please, let me go. Just let me go.”

The pleading tone of her voice gave him the last push and he fell off the cliff to his certain death. He pulled away, his hands still resting on her waist, but he wasn’t holding onto her anymore.

Eliza reached out to wipe his tears. “I love you, Matthew,” she breathed.

“Yeah,” he sniffled, “I love you too.”

She chose not to say much more. Their hands remained entwined until she was too far away for their arms to keep up, and then their connection faded away.

Her heartbeat disappeared into the distance. She took his heart with her, leaving him with a gaping hole in his chest, but the pain was nothing compared to the weight of the world on his shoulders. She left and as the door closed, his colorful world soon turned to gray.

Eliza threw one last look over her shoulder, then got into the car. Happy asked her if she was okay, but she waved him off. “Just drive,” she said.

And he drove away.

Eliza sniffled. The memory was like a fresh wound that kept reopening every time she as much as thought about him. The tears cascaded down her cheeks with no intention of stopping.

She slid the pendant back into the cleavage of her shirt, making sure it would stay hidden from curious eyes. “No,” she whispered to herself. It hurt too much to think even more about it.

She needed hope. Hope kept her going. Even if it was slowly dying, it gave her a purpose. It gave her something to look forward to—something worth fighting for. Matt was worth fighting for. She left him when he needed her the most, so now she had to get better to take that role back as soon as she could. The way she had been before, she was of no use to him or Daredevil.

Daredevil needed his Angel, after all, but she was in no shape to be her alter ego right now. Loss of control, in her case, could prove fatal. She wasn’t going to risk that either.

The agreement she made with Tony for her recovery was clear. She would move back into the compound, she would work for him, and let him keep her occupied, and she had to go to therapy two times a week for two full hours at the compound with Mrs. Darcy.

Eliza wasn’t allowed to leave the premises without an escort. It brought her back to her first relapse all those years ago after she had gotten clean. This time, she only came terrifyingly close, but that was enough to require drastic measures. She was unstable, that much was true. She brought this isolation upon herself by agreeing to forego inpatient treatment for someplace that felt a little more like home.

She was starting to regret that decision now.

No contact with Matt, no vigilante duties, and besides the occasional training sessions, she wasn’t allowed to use her powers in any capacity to protect both herself and the people around her until she was more in control of her mind again.

Her fingers itched, but Eliza knew she was in no place to do anything with it without seriously putting the people around her at risk. While her mental health deteriorated, her powers grew stronger, which made them unpredictable. She used what little common sense she had left to justify the decisions and make it easier—to no avail.

She thought back to when Stephen Strange tried to lock her away in his castle to control what she was born with. He hadn’t come back since, but she didn’t trust the peace. He let her go. For someone so afraid of what she could do, he was awfully quiet now. At least at the compound, she was safe. No one other than Matt and Foggy needed to know about the encounter.

Her mind felt scrambled with all the different thoughts and memories that started to come back up in the quiet of her old room. The nostalgia threatened to suffocate her. She agreed to a treatment plan that was almost the same as if she had taken herself to the psych ward; somehow the familiar space turned into a noose in the few hours she had already been there, and Eliza slowly began to worry about whether or not she had made the right decision by upending her life and coming here.

How was she supposed to stay away from the man she loved? How was she supposed to go without a phone call or a text now that her electronic devices had been sophisticated? And how was she supposed to learn how to live a normal life if she found herself secluded from that life? She knew that she needed control to stay sober, but it didn’t seem fair that everyone agreed to keep her away from civilization on her own until two weeks had passed, at least.

But she was in a bad place, she could admit that. And people in a bad place don’t always know what is best for them.

Looking down at her shaking fingers, she balled them into a fist. Her lips pursed. The cravings didn’t stop with a change of scenery. They didn’t even fully go away with sex. They were relentless little bastards.

She went to Josie’s that night, and she didn’t take the drink she ordered because she remembered what she promised when she first went clean weeks ago, but she was so close—too close. And the cravings remained. They were there and they were painfully prominent.

She could still feel Viktor’s blood on her skin. She could hear the shots in the back of her head. She could feel the air leaving her lungs, the panic attack, and the sirens of the ambulance as she was taken away. She almost got justice for what had been done to her and so many other little girls and the Punisher took that opportunity away from her.

Viktor had deserved to suffer. In the end, he died, and death was too kind for a man like him.

Part of Eliza wondered if her powers could turn back time. Stephen Strange had the time stone. She felt connected to it, most likely because of her blood, but maybe she could manipulate reality in a way that would bring Viktor back and finally allow her to do what she had wanted to do all along.

She couldn’t go there. She couldn’t allow herself to lose control after admitting that she needed help to regain the very control she had lost before. She was losing herself, and it was starting to catch up with her. It made her bitter. It made her dangerous.

Eliza found herself at a crossroads with no sense of direction. Not anymore.

“You’re shaking,” Mrs. Darcy observed.

Almost a full day had passed since she arrived back home, and she had already lost all track of time. This appointment with Mrs. Darcy felt like torture of the highest order.

She felt so alone, so isolated, so misunderstood—all because the one person who knew her better than anyone in this world wasn’t around.

“I know you’ve been through a lot. And this decision surely wasn’t easy. Leaving the man you love, coming back here, deciding to focus on you,” she said. “I mean, for someone who’s been through hell and back without ever actively asking for help yourself, this was a brave first step toward full recovery. But I also know why you did it.”

Eliza’s nostrils flared as she took a deep breath in. Her lungs felt so heavy. Every muscle in her body was straining against nothing at all. She didn’t want to see it because withdrawal happens after a relapse and she hadn’t relapsed, but this was as close to withdrawal as it could get. She felt humiliated by her own body, which, in turn, made her mind turn on herself.

Mrs. Darcy sighed, scuffling her notes around. She was just about to say something when Eliza opened her dry lips to speak.

“I was ready to throw it all away for that one shot of tequila,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because… because I felt so stuck. I feel… I am stuck. Nothing was going the way I wanted it to. I couldn’t find answers. I couldn’t… I couldn’t find the person that took my chance at getting justice and now… I made it impossible for myself ‘cause I’m stuck here. I… I’m just so stuck.”

Her arms wrapped around her legs and she hugged them tight to her chest.

Mrs. Darcy nodded, putting her notebook aside for a moment. “Are you having cravings right now?” she asked. “For drugs? For a drink?”

In response, she only shrugged, but her shaky hands were already a big indication of the truth. “I wanted to feel nothing, even if just for a moment,” Eliza admitted. “I guess I still do. A bit.”

“I take that as a yes.”

“So what if I am?” That came out snappier than she intended. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I just…”

She was having a hard time adjusting to a life she had been so used to before. A life that wasn’t a life but a mere existence. All of her life, she had been on the run, and now that she was stuck, it somehow still felt like it, with the only difference being that she was running in one place now with nowhere else to go. And that was significantly worse than being on the run from her past.

Facing it meant pain, and she hated what it did to her. She hated this godforsaken mess that she had become. Would it ever end in anything other than a disaster?

Mrs. Darcy silently reached into her bag. She was always so understanding. She didn’t judge, she simply took her word for it and tried to help while still being honest.

Eliza watched as her therapist pulled out a small package she knew all too well, and she placed it before her on the conference table. Sunlight fell on it. She met her eyes.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“A little something to help with the cravings,” said Mrs. Darcy.

“Revia?”

She nodded. “Revia.”

Naltrexone.

Eliza's eyes lingered on the small package. “Revia,” she repeated. She knew it was a tool, a means to an end. The internal conflict raged on, and at that moment, the wariness in her eyes spoke volumes.

Mrs. Darcy slid the package closer. “Now, it’s not a cure. You know that as well as I do. It's an addition to your support system. And it will take some of the strain off your body that your mind is putting on you.”

She traced the outline of the medication with trembling fingers. “I know that,” she whispered.

“I know we’ve been down this road before, but since you want to get better now…” Mrs. Darcy gave her a supportive smile. “I think we’re on a good path here, and a little help can’t hurt. I need you present if you want to do this. I need you alive.”

She had a choice: to confront the demons within or succumb to the numbing embrace of substances. The weight of that decision weighed heavily on her shoulders.

“I’m not weak,” Eliza whispered again, more to herself than to the woman before her.

She wasn’t weak. The words repeated like a mantra in the screen of her brain.

“No one said you were,” Mrs. Darcy answered. “Strength lies in acknowledging your vulnerabilities. I told you that before.”

After a moment of silence, Eliza took a deep breath. She hesitantly reached for the package. It was a silent agreement. She didn’t have the words to say it out loud.

A bitter chuckle passed her lips. “I feel like I'm running in circles,” she said.

“You’re breaking unhealthy patterns that became your survival instinct. No one said that doing this over and over again would be easy, but eventually, you will heal. Trauma is cruel, addiction is cruel, and your circumstances pose a whole ‘nother obstacle we’ve found ourselves faced with time and time again. No one is pressuring you into doing this other than yourself; that is what it takes.” Mrs. Darcy finished by filling her a glass of water. “Now, take your pills,” she told her. “We will go from there.”

Eliza sighed. “You’re very bossy, you know that, right?”

“It’s my job.”

“Is that why you never gave up on me? Or is it the money?”

“Believe it or not, I like you, Eliza,” Mrs. Darcy said. “It’s that easy. You deserve to have someone take a chance on you. Or two. Or how many more you might need.”

The words felt like a thousand needles drilling through her skin into her most sensitive nerves. Her head ached a little at the prospect of this woman wanting to help her simply because she believed in her. Tony paid her good money. It was easier to blame it on that than think, just for a moment, that she was worth it. Worth taking a chance on. Worth more than what she told herself she was.

Matt loved her and he cared, but his feelings made him feel obligated to be there for her. Mrs. Darcy had no personal connection to her and yet, she stuck around for years. It was a lot to wrap her head around.

A tear slid down her cheek. Eliza furiously wiped it away, angry at herself for letting this get to her. “I…” Her mind was in shambles. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Just accept it,” the woman said.

She made it sound so simple, but accepting love and care and not turning it into unwanted pity was hard for her. She never trusted peace, she never trusted love because, in the past, it had always been bound to conditions. Who was to say that it wasn’t the case with the people in her life now?

She was overthinking. Her body burned brighter than the sun. This feeling of vulnerability kept eating her alive. Almost as if in a rush, Eliza reached for the package. She tried to take it slow, but her hands shook in the process of getting the pills out. She took one, not more, and popped it into her mouth. She downed it with the glass of water Mrs. Darcy offered her.

Part of her imagined that it was Oxy she was taking and that the shaking would go away as soon as this flesh-eating pain in her soul went away, but she knew better. Revia tricks the body, not the mind.

Mrs. Darcy’s smile turned triumphant. She picked her notebook back up, clicking the pen a few times. “Are you ready to talk now?” she asked. “Really talk?”

Eliza opened her mouth to object, but she quickly changed the course of her thinking. She let out a heavy sigh. “What do you wanna know?” she retorted.

“How about everything?”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

She wasn’t sure if she liked what that insinuated, considering she had shared her life story with her before, but Eliza had no choice.

If Mrs. Darcy wanted to know everything, she had to tell her everything. There was no more use in lying now, anyway. Her soul lay open, bleeding out. That was her only way to survive. And she promised Matt to fight, so she would fight. For him.

For herself.

But mostly for him.

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