#sometimes I like to imagine how my life would’ve been different if she knew my 5yo self

[yourmidnightlover]

getting it over with - ch 1

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: after relentless teasing and being the butt of too many jokes, you ask bucky to help you become more experienced in… a particular area of your life

warning: precious bucky, virgin shaming?, virgin reader, slight male!oc x reader, sexual harrassment, illuding to sex, talk of sex

w/c: 2.5k

a/n: i am working on part 2 in my other series, timeless. i've been debating two different ways i could take it and it's been an internal battle trying to figure that out. that being said, i can't help myself and started writing this and so here it is! this will likely be a simple mini series with smut in the later parts, probably the next one tbh. anywho... enjoy!

another night with the girls, and yet another night of beng singled out and ridiculed over a miniscule part of your life. 

you were a well accomplished woman and yet all of your hard work has consistently been overlooked in nearly every conversation because of your extracurricular activities. or, well, more like your lack of extracurricular activities. 

you had been working with the avengers for five years now as their pr manager, living there for a little over three after finding it was easier to represent and present the team in a brighter light when you knew more about them. it was after you moved in that you got much closer to james ‘bucky’ barnes, who you’ve coined the nickname of ‘jamie’ for. your friends also began to question why you hadn’t, in their terms, “banged,” one of the avengers you happened to live with.

truth be told, you did enjoy spending time with them, especially bucky. but, that would be crossing a line. you were practically employed by them. well, technically you were employed by tony, but that didn’t change the fact that they were your clients. it was just particularly easy to find the good in the people who constantly saved the world. well, that, and you were supposed to make them look good anyway. 

the most difficult one to paint in the golden light was definitely bucky. you were great at getting the media to lean into his humanity and reminding them of how he had been tortured into what he became. you’ve imagined him to the public as “sargeant bucky barnes,” giving him back the title he earned rather than the name he was branded. he was still wary of venturing into the eye of the public, but everytime he did there were less people yelling at him and more people giving pitying looks and whispers. sure, he would rather not be recognized at all, but whispering was a hell of a long way from harassment. 

bucky was grateful for everything you’d done for him. truth be told, you were grateful for everything they had done for you anyway. hell they had repeatedly saved all of humanity, helping their reputation was the least you could do for them. 

but regardless of how well of a job you’ve done making the avengers’ reputation way lighter, somehow the only thing your old friends could talk about is how you’re somehow still a virgin.

“god, i can’t believe you’re still a virgin sometimes. especially being surrounded by hunks like him,” stephanie spoke up as she flipped her bleached hair behind her shoulder. “i would’ve tried my luck long before i cleared their name, girl. i mean, that sergeant guy has the prettiest blue eyes, and have you never wondered what he could do with that metal hand of his?” 

you rolled your eyes, “he’s more than a pretty face, steph. he’s actually really sweet, too. his humor’s a bit old, kinda like a grandpa.”

“well, if he’s a grandpa then i’d gladly be his sugar baby,” she squeaked as she sipped on her vodka cranberry. 

“can we not talk about him like that?” your face furrowed in embarrassment and you only hoped that she would take your blushing as remnants of the alcohol running through your body.

“why?” she scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “do you want him or something?” she paused, seeingly waiting for your response. clearly, your silence was answer enough. “oh my god you like him, don’t you?” 

“no, no, it’s not like that,” you shook your head as you downed the rest of your drink. “i just spend a lot of time with him because of the job, y’know?” 

“why don’t you just get him to pop your precious cherry?” she ventured as she stood from her stool. 

boy, had you wished for that. mostly in your wildest dreams, but part of you hoped it could maybe happen. but then, you would wake up and were reminded of your place in the world. besides, jamie was over 100 years old. there’s no way he’d want someone who didn’t know what they were doing in the bedroom. 

“or,” steph interrupted your thoughts. “we can get out there and find you a different guy to pop your cherry,” she finished with a wink as she grabbed your hands, pulling you from your seat and to the dance floor. 

you managed to sneak a glance at the clock before the crowd surrounding you made it more difficult, reading the time being 11 pm. you told the guys you’d be back before 1, so that gave you enough time to please stephanie and then politely excuse yourself. 

surprisingly, you had begun to enjoy yourself. the music wasn’t so bad with the surge of confidence the alcohol running through your veins gave you. after a few too many drinks, you were in your own world. finally unbothered by the nagging thoughts of your friends and the weight of your job on your shoulders. 

you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder before turning to see a sweet smile. he had big, brown eyes and shaggy hair, broad shoulders, none that compared to the men you lived with, but they were nice nonetheless. 

“hi,” he said even sweeter than his smile, keeping his hands to himself politely. “i-i’m noah.”

“well, hello, noah,” you smiled as you stepped closer to him, uncharacteristically throwing your arms around his neck as you continued to sway to the music. “y/n.”

“i-uh-you-you’re gorgeous,” he stuttered as his hands modestly found your waist.

“you really think so?” you said teasingly before leaning up to his ear. “i think you are super cute, yourself.” 

at this point, you had nearly forgotten all about stephanie’s presence at all. maybe she had already left with another guy, herself? who knows. right now, all you knew was that you didn’t know brown eyes could be so pretty. mayb you didn’t want to wait anymore. maybe you didn’t want to be the old virgin in your friend group anymore. maybe noah could change that.

“you’re unreal,” he chuckled as he continued to sway with you for the next song until you began to kiss on his neck. 

“you taste so sweet,” you commented in his ear before kissing right below it. he pulled back, giving you a sweet smile before connecting your lips together. 

“you taste sweeter, believe me,” he huffed out a breath as you reconnected your lips with his. 

“i think i want you, noah,” you whispered against his lips so softly he wasn’t sure he even heard you. “pretty please?” 

“ye-yea, sure,” he guided you out of the bar, you needing nearly all of his support to even walk out of the threshold of the door. 

“think ‘m sleepy, noah,” you mumbled against his neck as the cold air hit your face, as if it had began to sober you up.

“you just said you wanted me…?” he perplexed as he pulled you aside into the ally to gather yourself. 

“‘m sorry, noah,” you shrugged as the cold air hit you again. “‘s cold outside, can i go back in?” you turned to walk back inside when he grabbed your arm, probably a bit more harsh than he intended to. 

“what the fuck?” he sounded disappointed. “i complimented you, i let you make the first move, and now you just wanna back out?” he pulled you closer to his body. “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“i-i dunno, i just got confused i think?” you stumbled as you tried to back away once more. “it’s too cold out here, noah.” 

“maybe this’ll warm you up,” he grabbed your pliable face and brought you back in for a kiss before you tried to push him away again.

“y/n?” you heard a raspy voice call out. “what the fuck?” you turned to see your jamie confused.

“jamie!” you tred to wiggle out of noah’s grasp once more, a disgruntled look on your face as you did so. “jamie…” you were now limply wrestling out of noah’s grasp as he scoffed at the situation in front of him. 

“what?” he said in disbelief. “you wanna lead me on and leave with this guy?”

“noah-”

“i think you need to back of the lady, alright, man?” bucky spoke up as he stepped closer towards you. “she’s clearly a bit drunk, just let me take her home and we’ll be on our way. no harm, right?” he tried to reason with the douchebag. 

“no harm?” he grasped your arm tighter before he continued, making you wince slightly. “so this bitch is able to fucking lead me on and then leave me high and dry and there’s ‘no harm’?”

“okay, i’ve tried to be nice about this,” without a second of hesitation, he had noah’s arms behind his back, not enough to seriously injure him, but just enough to harm him enough to not tempt him to do any more harm. “you will apologize to miss y/n for talking to her the way you did, you will walk away, and you won’t do anything like that to any woman in the near future, understood?” noah nodded. “am i understood?!” 

“yes, yes!” bucky nudged him further in your direction as you were leaning your back against the brick wall for stability. “i’m sorry, y/n.”

“for…?” bucky taunted.

“i’m sorry for talking to you the way i did.”

“good boy,” bucky teased as he released the man, letting him run away and not sparing him another glance before he made his way closer to you. 

“‘m sorry, jamie,” you stumbled forward and threw your arms around him. you had never been so openly affectionate, especially with bucky since you knew his aversions. since you were so drunk, you simply didn’t register the unspoken boundaries you had unintentionally set in place for yourself. “didn’t wanna make him mad. jus’ changed my mind s’all,” you buried your face in his neck. 

“you have a right to change your mind, doll,” he soothed as he gently rubbed your back, leading you to steve’s car he borrowed. 

“y/n?” you snapped your head to look at bucky as he spoke. “i don’t want you to be so late again, doll. it’s almost 2 am. had me worried sick about ya,” his hand danced on your knee, you assumed to comfort you after the events of the night.

“i didn’t know,” you shook your head. “i swear, i just lost track of time. s’not like me to do this. i just got so mad and wanted to get it over with, y’know?”

“get what over with?”

“you won’t laugh at me?” you grabbed his hand that was resting on your knee and turned in your seat to face your body towards him. “never, doll,” he chuckled at your serious tone.

“i’m tired of bein’ a virgin,” you said with a sense of disappointment. “don’ want people makin’ fun of me anymore.”

“that’s nothing to be embarrassed about, doll,” he shook his head as he put the car in park before running to your side of the car and helping you out. “some people want to save that moment, i get it.”

“no,” you groaned as you leaned into him. “i don’t wanna save it. i was just scared at first, and then i didn’t want to, and now it’s too late because nobody wants to be with a virgin.”

“that’s not true, y/n,” he shook his ehad as he pressed your shared floor on the elevator. 

“would you wanna have sex with me?” you wondered aloud as bucky began coughing loudly. “don’t be mean,” you huffed and crossed your arms, figuring he was trying to hide his laugh. “steph said i should get you to ‘pop my cherry’ but i knew you would’t wan-”

“hey, that’s not what i meant,” he stopped your train of thought. 

“so you do wanna ‘pop my cherry’?” you awed at the man as the elevator doors opened. 

“i wan’ you to stop referencing it as ‘popping your cherry’,” he grimaced as he said it himself. 

“you wanna have sex with me? bang? do the deed? take my virginity? make love?”

“stop it,” he groaned as you giggled, leaning into his chest even more. “i wanna have this conversation when your sober, if you even remember it.”

“i’ll remember, my sweet jamie,” you held onto his arm as he walked you to your room, helping you get into bed before going into your bathroom and returning with your bin of skincare. “this is why you’re my sweet jamie,” if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was blushing. 

he began using your makeup wipes to remove the remnants of makeup that had survived the night, followed by micellar water to remove the excess remover from your face. you knew he had seen you do your skincare routine after having so many late movie nights with one another, but it was still flattering that he had remembered it all so well. he finished applying your toners, serums, and finally your moisturizer with gentle hands, his metal one providing a nice cold surface that woke your skin up a bit more. it wasn’t until you reached up to grab his flesh hand that he noticed the bruises lacing your arms. 

“god,” he sighed as he looked down at his lap. “i’m so sorry i was too late, doll.”

“you weren’t too late,” you shook your head at his negativity. “you were perfectly on time. you saved me. i don’t-i don’t know what would’ve happened had you not shown up. i-”

“i don’t wanna think about what could’ve happened, please,” he shook his head as he held onto your bruised wrist softly, tenderly rubbing his cool metal hand over the damaged skin before pressing a kiss to it. 

“will you stay with me tonight?” you asked softly, as if you were scared he would say no. as if he would ever tell you no. 

“only if you’re sure,” you nodded eagerly with a grin before he crawled into bed with you. 

bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist as you laid on his chest, breathing in his scent as his soothing heartbeat calmed you down after the nights antics. 

“i’ll remember tomorrow, jamie.”

CHAPTER 2

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #marvel #james bucky barnes #sargeant barnes #sargeant bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes #sargeant james barnes #james buchanan barnes

[afictionaladventure16]

Because of You (Pedro Pascal x Teen!Fem!Reader)

Summary: Pedro is the reader's only support system after her suicide attempt and protects her from her narcissistic mother after a bad family therapy session.

Word Count: 2,353

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, abandonment, neglect, and a narcissistic mother.

“Let’s talk about your relationship with your mother,” Your therapist begins. 

You let out a sigh. Pedro was quick to catch on, he placed a gentle hand on your knee. You looked up at him, he gave you a smile and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

“I believe we have not seen eye to eye with some subjects, but we have a wonderful relationship,” your mother stated, a smile plastered on her face. You scoffed, “What?” she hissed, sending you daggers through her eyes. 

“Funny, I don’t recall us having such a wonderful relationship,” you said, emphasizing on the wonderful. “If we’ve had such a wonderful relationship then why did it take you six weeks to come to one of the sessions.” You lifted your hand up to your mouth, beginning to bite the skin that was hanging off your cuticles. 

“Y/N,” Pedro warned quietly, he took a loving hand on yours. Giving you a knowing look, it was one of your habits, bite your nails when things were beginning to become too much. It was something you were trying to break because although it may seem small and meaningless, it was a way of self-mutilation. If you bit your nails now, then eventually you would do more harm to yourself. 

“I don’t understand why he’s here,” your mother told your therapist as she gestured towards Pedro. 

“Because, unlike someone in this room, he actually cares about me and my well-being,” you hissed. 

Your mother rolled her eyes, “It’s supposed to be a family session.” 

Pedro looked over at your therapist, “I can leave if-” 

“Please don’t,” you begged. 

“It’s up to Y/N, she can decide who can be in these sessions,” your therapist stated.

Pedro nodded before giving you a reassuring smile. He had been the one to find you the day you tried to commit. You don’t remember everything that day, it felt like the day had never existed, but to Pedro, it was a memory he wished he could forget. He felt so guilty that he couldn’t be there for you when you needed him that he helped you get into this program. At first, he didn’t show up to the first two sessions, mostly because he couldn’t face you just yet and you didn’t blame him. 

You were mostly afraid that because he didn’t show up, he wasn’t going to show up in general. That you had ruined a bond with someone who truly cared about you. Someone you actually trusted and were able to speak about your feelings and actually be heard. Then when he did show up, you felt relieved.

He knew that your home life wasn’t the most welcoming, which is why you spent a lot of time at his place when he was in town. He didn’t mind, he wished things were better for you at home, but at the same time, he liked imagining how things could be if you were his daughter. So, he did, he treated you like his own and sometimes he’d lie to a waitress and call his daughter. 

Your therapist knew that this subject was beginning to be a bit much for you. Although she wanted to try and touch on these subjects to help you through the trauma, she could only go so far. “Let’s try a different subject,” your therapist suggested. 

Your mother scoffed, “Well, it’s obvious my daughter has more to say and this is a therapy session isn’t it? So, let’s just have her say it,” your mother stated as she gestured for you to continue. 

You looked over at your therapist, you knew she wanted to know how you’d respond. The person you were six weeks ago would’ve probably started yelling and shouting things out into oblivion, but that was six weeks ago. “I’d rather not.” 

Your mother ignored you, continuing with what you had previously said, “I didn’t come to your sessions-” 

“Mom,” you warned. 

“Maybe it’s best if we-” Pedro tried to interrupt. He couldn’t bare to see your mother treat you this way. 

But she raised her voice, “Because I was taking care of your siblings and let’s be frank, sweetie, sometimes you can overreact.” 

“Overreact?” You asked in disbelief. 

“Oh come on, the self-harming? The trying to kill yourself?” you sat there in disbelief, you couldn’t understand how someone who was supposed to have a maternal instinct. Someone who was supposed to love, care, understand, and even be there for you through the bad and the good. A mother. Could just have no feelings toward their own child. “I mean it’s no wonder you’re in this piece of junk and don’t get me started on your father.” 

“Don’t,” you warned. 

“What? Are you still pissed about that?” She scoffed. “It is not such a big deal.” 

“You lied to me about who my real father was! How is that not such a big deal!” You yelled. 

“Maybe this is where we should end the session,” your therapist suggested. 

“I did not come here to only spend twenty minutes of my time,” your mother stated. 

You were fuming and all you wanted to do was bite your nails, but you couldn’t. Your leg bounced up and down as you stared at your mother. You felt a gentle hand on your leg, you knew it was Pedro, but you didn’t look towards him. He let out a frustrated sigh, it was wrong to hit a woman, he reminded himself. 

Your mother looked over at you, “Was it worth it? Getting so damn upset over a man who doesn’t even share the same DNA? So what he wasn’t your dad-” 

“He was my dad,” you hissed. “He was there for me unlike you and even though he never knew I wasn’t his daughter because someone withheld that information, he always treated me like I was up until the moment he died.” 

“Here we go,” she scoffed, “‘you abandoned me as a child,’ bit, I didn’t abandon you. I just didn’t have custody of you.” 

“Don’t pull that bullshit!” you groaned, “I was there! I was the kid waiting by the window because Mommy said she’d be here in twenty minutes! You never put in the fucking effort and I had to live with it! Me! Not you! Because of you, I am the way that I am!” 

“I’m sorry I had to take care of your siblings!” 

“Oh my god!” you put your hands on your head, “what about me?!” 

She rolled her eyes, “It’s always about you isn’t it.” 

“I was your kid too! I needed you too!” You felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes. 

“Look at you, you’re fine now, I mean you were just five I bet you didn’t even notice.” 

You shook your head, “I was four. I was four and waiting by a window. I was four and wondering ‘Where’s mommy?’ I was four and sat in the corner of the classroom because ‘Y/N doesn’t have a mommy so she can’t participate in the mothers Day craft!’ I was four and I fucking needed you just as much as my siblings did.” Pedro felt his heart drop, he couldn’t imagine having to go through such heartbreak at such a young age. 

“Alright, fine! Let’s all hear about how horrible of a mother I was! Is that what you want?!” 

You groaned as you got up from your seat, “oh my god! Why can’t you see it! You abandon-” 

“God you have to make a big deal out of everything, huh. No wonder you’re such a great actress.” 

Pedro was trying his best to remain calm, but all he wanted to do was lose his cool. He knew he couldn’t though, you needed someone who would stand their ground and support you. He watched as you paced near the window, he got up and walked over to you. 

“Mija, breathe,” he whispered. 

“I can’t do it anymore, I can’t handle it,” you choked out. 

“I know,” he said as he gently rubbed your back. “Do you want to end the session?” You gave him a nod. 

“What we ending the session now because Y/N is too sensitive?” Your mother hissed. 

Pedro couldn’t handle it anymore, “Alright, if you hate your daughter so much then why not give her up, then? Why make her life so miserable?” Pedro finally said. 

Your mother hesitated, she had been trying to paint herself in good light all day, “and who would I even give her to?” 

“Me, because I can do a better damn job being her parent than you ever could, hell, I’ve been a parent since I met Y/N.” 

“Then why is she in this mess?” 

“Have you tried looking in a mirror? Maybe you’re the reason why she’s in this mess. I couldn’t always be there with her, but this girl has been a blessing in my life. She is like a daughter to me and I will do anything to make sure she gets the proper treatment and that she is happy in life.” 

You looked at Pedro in awe, you were aware that he thought of you as a blessing in his life. He had said the same about Bella before, but you never imagined him saying that he thought of you as a daughter. There were times when you thought of Pedro as a father figure and even times were you almost did call him dad. 

He knew how to talk to you about certain subjects in life, he knew how you felt about things. 

He did everything a father should do and more. 

Your mother looked at your therapist, “Can we do that?” 

“I’m not really the person you should be asking, but I’ve seen situations where home life isn’t good, so the child goes to live with someone else. Adoption is a process, but you may want to look into having guardianship over Y/N,” she said the last part towards Pedro. 

Pedro looked over at your mother, she got up from her chair, “Alright,” she said as she grabbed her purse. “If that’s what y/n wants.” You gave her a nod, “we’ll talk about it then.” She turns to your therapist, “Am I done here?” 

Your therapist nods, “We’re done for the day.” Your mother then walked out of the room, not saying another word. You felt like it was too good to be true. She was a woman who liked having a puppet to torment. “I’ll leave you two alone for a little bit, but you do have activities in fifteen minutes, y/n.” 

Pedro thanked your therapist as she walked out before walking back over to you, “you okay?” 

“She’s not gonna give up that easily,” you stated. 

“I know,” he said softly, pulling you in for an embrace. 

“She’s a bitch,” you commented, “and I don’t get how she can just be so, ugh!” 

“Breathe,” he let go of the embrace, motioning for you to sit down on a nearby chair. 

You sat down on the chair, letting the tears make their way across your cheek, “I needed her,” you choked out. “Is it me? Am I the reason why she’s like this?” 

“No, Cariño. Don’t think that.” 

“Then what?” 

Pedro sighed, “Sometimes people who hurt end up hurting other people, especially those who don’t deserve to be hurt.” Pedro placed a hand on your back, “But you’re breaking that cycle, Cariño.” 

You let out a shaky breath, “I just wanted a mom. I wanted to be that girl who can call her mom up and chat about a cute boy.” It was all you wanted. A mom. Someone you called your best friend and occasionally fought with like you saw in the movies. 

“What about me, hmm?” You gave him a confused look, Pedro cleared his throat, “Okay, girl, dime,(tell me) did he like open the door for you?” He said in his best Cali girl voice. You couldn’t help but chuckle, but it soon faded, “I’m sorry, Cariño.” 

“For what?” 

He sighed, gently resting his head on top of yours, “If I could go back in time I’d rescue you from her, I hope you know that.” 

You smiled, “Pedro, you don’t have to be sorry-” 

He shook his head, “I hate that you had to go through that. I wish there was a way I could create a childhood you should’ve had.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes, “Thank you.” 

Pedro let go of the embrace, placing his hand on your cheek, “I don’t ever want to live in a world where you don’t exist. You’ve been a blessing in disguise and I’d be proud to call you my kid if you’ll let me.” You gave him a nod before choking out a sob, and he pulled you back into the embrace. “Eres como un hija para mi and I don’t need to share any DNA with you feel that way.” (you are like a daughter to me) 

You heard a voice over the intercom announcing that activities were about to begin. “I can’t wait to get out of here,” you managed to say. 

Pedro chuckled slightly, “A few more weeks.” 

You let go of the embrace, wiping away the tears, “few more weeks,” you repeated. You looked at Pedro and smiled, “Thank you.” 

“Of course,” he smiled. 

“I really mean it, thank you,” you began, “for being there when you didn’t have to be and for being my support system through my craziness.” 

He placed a kiss on your forehead, “Like I said, you are my blessing in disguise and I’m not letting anyone take it from me, not even you.” The voice came on the intercom again, “You should probably get going, but I’ll see you this weekend for the family outing?” 

You nodded, “Yes!” You began to walk away before turning back around, “Love ya!” 

“Love you too, Mija.” Pedro waved as you walked out of the room. Although nothing was certain yet, you were his kid. With or without documents. 

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @tracysnook  @cilliansangel  @change-the-world-someday  @graciegoeskrazy @oggystine93 @t-stark35 @twkobii @picklehat3r @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @white-wolf-buckaroo @steadydragongalaxy @rooting4theantihero @soupinasock @tracysnook @Ilovehotdadsandshit @dzaga890 @marantha @emmasauger @marysucks-blog

#Pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x daughter!reader #pedro pascal x daughter #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x teen!reader platonic #pedro pascal x platonic!reader #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x teen platonic #pedro pascal x teen reader #pedro pascal x teen #pedro pascal teen!reader #pedro pascal x teen!reader #pedro pascal x teen!fem!reader #pedro pascal teen!fem!reader

[thesummerestsolstice]

Headcanon Crafts for Everyone I Missed Last Time:

Idril: a sculptor. She worked with every kind of stone imaginable, and often went looking for new material in Gondolin’s mines with Maeglin. (Look my Maeglin head canons are complicated but they should get to be friends the narrative has hurt them too much already) She actually preferred not to make elvish figures, instead focusing on strangely beautiful stone landscapes and various animal-like figures. She was actually responsible for Middle-Earth’s version of the gargoyle, having carved several to stand guard over Gondolin. Several elves swore that the statues moved, but she never addressed those rumors. She also liked to paint her work with bright colors, which would’ve been seen as odd back in Valinor, but fit right in in First Age Middle-Earth.

Maeglin: a smith, but his craft was more in-line with Avarin practice than Noldor practice; with much less focus on the idea of making gems and heavier focus on understanding natural geology and the properties of various gems and metals. He knew the mines of Gondolin better than anyone, and wrote plenty about the the earth under the earth. His work also had fairly significant Dwarfish influences. He liked to make mechanically complex pieces, with moving parts or even some internal gear work.

Finduilas: a hunter. Her and her father were both nature people, just in very different ways. She was silent, with all the grace of a dancer, and quick enough to outrun most of what she hunted. She preferred to go after more aggressive animals– wild boar, wolves, bears, even wargs– and leave the deer and rabbits be. She was born in Beleriand, and had never met the Valar, but sometimes, privately, offered up prayers to Orome. She liked to imagine she could’ve been in his hunt, if things had turned out a bit differently.

Celebrimbor: a smith, in the very traditional Noldor sense. Gemworker, specialized in jewelry, made various famously beautiful pieces, etc. Was never quite happy sticking to hairpins and necklaces. Longed to try his hand at imbuing his work with real power, but always talked himself out of it. A whole binder of concepts for works of power sat locked away in a chest in his workshop for centuries. He never talked to anyone about it. He was as ashamed of his feelings for his craft as he was of his feelings for his family. By the end of his life, he’d made peace with only one of those things.

Earendil: a mariner? Alright, he was definitely a mariner, and he loved the ship life– he even built a few boats of his own, in a similar fantastic style to Turgon’s architecture– but he also had a longstanding fascination with the natural world, and filled volumes and volumes of journals with information on various plants, animals, and minerals. But natural lore isn’t a recognized Noldor craft, since it involves learning but doesn’t really produce tangible results. Still, it was a passion he got from afternoons spent learning about geology with “Uncle Mole,” and one he shared with Elrond. Researching the beauty and wonder of nature gave Earendil something to do with his immortal life, and was a big part of the reason Elrond chose to be immortal at all.

Gil-Galad: a king. No, really, he’d been the high-king of the Noldor since he was a child, and hadn’t really had time for trivialities like “finding a life purpose” or “having fun.” He was too busy learning how to stay alive in late stage Beleriand (read: hell) and learning to rule the least cooperative group of elves imaginable. He wanted to be a painter, and while he found enough practice time to get good at his chosen craft; because of how long detailed paintings can take, he almost never had time to actually make anything. He tried not to let it bother him too much. He didn’t always succeed at that.

Elrond: in a bit of a weird spot. Elrond is most associated with lore and healing; but, as discussed, “lore” isn’t considered a craft. And, well. Healing had to be Elrond’s craft, right? He’d been doing it since he was seven, and just about the only person in Amon Ereb who could still use healing powers. And it was good work, and it was rewarding, even if it often left him feeling so burned out and worried that he forgot to eat or sleep. It took him a long time to admit to himself that healing for him was what fighting was to many other elves: a necessity. Truth be told, he’d rather be gardener, working with the earth to create a place of peace and beauty. Also, Elrond is basically a nature spirit. So. It was something he began to explore in the peace of the early Second Age. He found that his Ainuric powers had all sorts of interesting effects on plant life. He also learned how to breed new varieties of fruits, vegetables, and flowers. Still, he never really considered that it could be a proper craft for him. At least, not until he first saw the valley that would one day become Rivendell.

Headcanon Crafts for Finwe and his Children, the House of Feanor, the House of Fingolfin, and the House of Finarfin.

#silmarillion #silm headcanons #house of finwe #noldor #noldor crafts #idril #maeglin #finduilas #celebrimbor #earendil #gil galad #elrond #elrond peredhel #eldritch peredhel #I have feelings about elrond and gil galad #they had to grow up so fast #they deserve peace

[jihyocentric]

kind of the same universe of this fill. i say ‘kind of’ because some things might have been changed here. i’ll admit i didn’t reread it, i just i wanted to write the nahyo :)

-

the world seemed to have turned against nayeon from the moment she had the unpleasant experience of meeting park jihyo.

part of the reason why they’d become ‘rivals’ was nayeon’s own fault, she admits, though jihyo carried half of the blame. their restaurants weren’t direct competition, as everything about them, from the menu to the theme, was different.

jihyo’s restaurant was all about high cuisine, the place was as elegant as its owner. nayeon’s, on the other hand, offered traditional food and a comfortable place that wasn’t not elegant, but certainly not as elegant as jihyo’s. the establishments were meant for different occasions, different clients, and yet nayeon and jihyo couldn’t help but compete.

they competed to be better than each other, to have a better rating to their respective restaurants, to be known as kinder from their clients — everything became a subject of competition when it came to what nayeon and jihyo knew they could beat each other in.

the aversion starts because nayeon is rude.

she usually isn’t, rarely is, but she happened to meet her worst nightmare of a person when her restaurant is about to be closed due to the lack of popularity. she was in the middle of a breakup then, which only made her more frustrated. and so, everything, from the beginning to the end of the day she met jihyo was a mess — everything felt wrong.

“you can’t just buy this place!” nayeon huffs loudly, the palms of her hands hitting against one of the empty tables of her restaurant. “tzuyu, guide this sir outside. please.”

the man who sat in front of her was one of the many people who had made her such an offer that week. he had gone there with a much younger woman, who seemingly didn’t want to be there, but was listening attentively, flinching when nayeon’s voice became sharper.

“listen, miss im. being in this location isn’t good for your business. people that come to this neighborhood have a refined taste, if you know what i mean. and you don’t fit in.” he says patiently, almost like he was mocking nayeon. he gets up, leaving a card on the table. his contact. “if you change your mind…”

“i won’t.” nayeon says, resolute.

the man leaves then, without needing tzuyu’s guidance. the woman stays, looking at nayeon almost as if she pities her. jihyo didn’t — she didn’t pity nayeon, but she couldn’t begin to imagine how it would be if she didn’t have her father to give her what she needs to succeed. so she stays, cleans her throat, and apologizes for her father’s behavior, because she felt like nayeon didn’t deserve to go through that pain.

but one wrong word was all nayeon needed to snap, and if jihyo had known, she would’ve been more careful.

“i’m sorry about my father.” jihyo starts. tzuyu watches them from a distance, making sure nayeon would deal with her less abruptly than she had with the woman’s father. “he can be… harsh, sometimes. but he wasn’t wrong-”

nayeon raises her eyebrows.

“he wasn’t wrong?” nayeon laughs, as if she couldn’t believe what jihyo was saying, but she had hardly given her any chance to explain what she meant. “you have no idea how hard it was to get this place. you would never understand it anyway. i bet he wants this for you, am i wrong?”

jihyo doesn’t falter, understanding nayeon’s anger, trying to be comprehensive despite her accusations. “yes.”

“and you’re here to try to convince me you’re a good girl and that i should give up on the business of my life just because daddy’s princess wants to play chef.” nayeon barks, stepping closer to jihyo, trying to intimidate her.

tzuyu closes her eyes, covering her face with her palm as she watches nayeon lose her temper with someone who had nothing to do with the reason why the restaurant was struggling. at least jihyo knows how to defend herself, crossing her arms and keeping her chin raised.

“i see.” jihyo looks at nayeon up and down. “maybe you do deserve to be in this situation after all.”

and just like that, jihyo leaves. hell on earth had only just began for the both of them.

one thing about living relatively close to her dear enemy was that nayeon kept constantly bumping into jihyo.

if she went to a nearby cafe, there was a possibility that jihyo could be there, which was why nayeon started making her own coffee. at least that was an opportunity to learn new things — nayeon tried to convince herself. but her coffee was surprisingly bad for a chef, and sometimes she gave up and drove to the nearest cafe.

nayeon also couldn’t do groceries by the end of each month. jihyo did it by around that time, nayeon noticed, because she kept seeing her at the market when she was trying to get her monthly groceries. nayeon settled for doing it two weeks into the months. that way, she wouldn’t see jihyo, and, as a consequence, she wouldn’t have her day or even her week ruined.

nayeon could escape from jihyo all she wanted, but the woman would still always be on her mind. after all, how could she not think about jihyo when she was the only person nayeon has ever truly hated. the feeling was as genuine as love — not that nayeon saw it that way, though, because she’d never admit she had only been living to compete with jihyo for the past months.

the sense of winning was what made nayeon’s business get back on track anyway, and that was the only good thing about jihyo that nayeon could think of. sheer hate and her employees help was what made nayeon find her way to make her restaurant popular again, to the point she was competing against someone who had it all from the very beginning.

“like i care that she studied in france,” nayeon huffs. she’s pushing a trolley filled with groceries, heading to the candy session of the supermarket. nayeon couldn’t go a day without sweets. “such an annoying woman.”

she’d been frustrated since tzuyu had praised jihyo earlier in the week.

it was only natural for tzuyu to like a person who treated her girlfriend so well, especially so when dahyun dearly admired jihyo as her mentor and friend. still, despite making tzuyu of a spy to get more information from jihyo and her restaurant for herself, there were things about jihyo that nayeon didn’t have to know.

nayeon couldn’t care less about jihyo’s background. it was important information, certainly, but the way tzuyu delivered the information felt like praise. like jihyo was perfect and nayeon had nothing against her. the worst part of it was that, deep down, jihyo was indeed a bigger competitor than nayeon could have imagined. she had everything — the money, the talent, the great reviews, and a team that was just as loyal to her as nayeon’s was with her.

jihyo only leaves her mind when nayeon realizes that the chocolate from her favorite brand wasn’t in its regular version, but instead it was heart-shaped. valentines day was near. that year, nayeon would spend it alone. being single is why nayeon hadn’t even thought about the date being utterly close, and reality only comes to her when she’s buying sweets.

she’s about to grab a package of chocolate bears from a brand that wasn’t her favorite (she refused to buy heart-shaped chocolate for only herself, that was far too humiliating for nayeon to do) when she notices a short woman trying to reach what she’d been previously looking at.

and of course it’s her. jihyo, the woman nayeon had been mentally cursing for the past hour while shopping.

nayeon smiles, feeling immensely proud of herself for wearing sneakers that made her slightly taller. she leaves her trolley on the side and reaches for the chocolate, forgetting about her pride — and the bear-shaped chocolate she was going to buy.

“thank-” jihyo looks to the side, about to show her gratitude for the person who was apparently trying to help her. “im nayeon?”

“i see you’re buying chocolate, park.” nayeon throws the chocolate in her own trolley. “is it for the boyfriend?”

jihyo understands what nayeon meant by taking the chocolate then. it was only for her own pettiness.

“boyfriend?” jihyo arches her brows. “have you been watching me?”

nayeon blushes. “h-huh? of course not!”

“if you say so.” jihyo laughs. she’s almost sweet when she does. “tell tzuyu to do a better job next time. i will never have a boyfriend.”

jihyo picks a chocolate she can reach — it wasn’t heart-shaped, but it was expensive enough it could be a gift.

“wait, park!” nayeon calls before jihyo leaves with her nearly empty trolley. jihyo looks at her, crossing her arms, letting nayeon know she wasn’t in the mood for her antics. “did you see your restaurant’s online rating is 0.1 lower than mine?”

“wait until valentines day, im. i’m sure people will want a more…” jihyo laughs. “sophisticated place to have dinner with their lovers. maybe you should come by and bring yours as well.”

jihyo turns around then, and nayeon can hardly find the words to react.

“i can’t accept this, jihyo.”

dahyun shakes her head, putting on her apron. she was ready for another full day being jihyo’s second hand, which was something dahyun could never be grateful enough for. jihyo was the best mentor she could’ve asked for — but sometimes she was too good. not that dahyun was complaining, but she truly couldn’t accept what jihyo was offering.

“you can. and you will.” jihyo concludes. “dahyun, it’s just half of the full price. i want to do this for you. and tzuyu.”

“you can’t just get me an apartment, jihyo.” dahyun says, flushed to her ears. “you’ve already done so much for me… i can’t take this from you.”

jihyo crosses her arms. she can’t understand why dahyun wouldn’t accept such gift from her. jihyo knew that not all people had the condition of giving expensive gifts or have received such, but it was normal for her. she was raised like that, receiving everything she could wish for from her parents. for that, jihyo wanted to do the same with dahyun, who she saw almost like a daughter, but not quite. a pupil, if anything.

“dahyun,” jihyo says, her voice serious. “i want to. doing this for you means a lot to me.”

“but jihyo…” dahyun sighs. accepting jihyo’s gift was tempting, she couldn’t deny it. even more so because jihyo’s intentions were genuine, and dahyun knew that.

“you can pay me back by staying with me. working here.” jihyo pouts. “and learning how to caramelize onions without burning them. it’s really annoying.”

dahyun gasps. “i’ve gotten better at that! you told me i had!”

“better doesn’t mean perfection,” jihyo answers. although she was a nice boss, jihyo could be incredibly demanding. that aspect of her, aside from the support only money could give her, was what made her successful in a short period of time. “i’ll wash my hands. today will be busy.”

being a good boss was what brought jihyo to the current situation.

after getting the apartment with tzuyu, dahyun waited until they had completely furnished it to throw a small party, with only people that mattered. there was a lack of communication, however, when tzuyu happened to invite nayeon, and dahyun naturally invited jihyo, as it wouldn’t be possible for them to be there so quickly if it wasn’t for jihyo.

the place was one of a kind, really. dahyun and tzuyu had managed to find a penthouse that wasn’t incredibly expensive, which was already a hard find on its own, and while it was smaller inside, they had a rooftop deck almost as big as the actual house, the perfect setting for spending time with friends.

the day the party happened was right before valentines day, because it was their only day off before the madness that valentines day would be for their respective workplaces. what neither of them considered was telling each other that they had invited their bosses. tzuyu only finds out that they were doomed when jihyo arrives with an expensive bottle of champagne, chocolate, and her ‘girlfriend’.

and then tzuyu is too busy panicking to tell dahyun that nayeon was coming.

“are you two… you know… serious now?” dahyun whispers towards jihyo once tzuyu offers sana a drink and they head to the kitchen.

jihyo is taken aback by the question.

“she is...” jihyo stops, appearing to be thinking about dahyun’s question. “she’s good for me. i think so.”

dahyun sighs. “but do you like her, unnie?”

“i like her.” jihyo replies, giving dahyun a small nod, her cheeks getting slightly red. “i like her a lot.”

“that’s good then, unnie.” dahyun smiles. jihyo looked quite cute when she was embarrassed, which wasn’t something that happened often, so dahyun cherished the moment. “oh, look! even tzuyu likes her.”

dahyun coos, seeing tzuyu smile along with sana. dahyun’s love for tzuyu was natural and easy, jihyo notices. even with sana, jihyo can’t feel that. still, jihyo smiles — she smiles because she’s happy for her friend, and because tzuyu, im nayeon’s little spy, wasn’t all that bad after all. she was even starting to think tzuyu was cute, despite the girl being her enemy’s second hand.

nayeon doesn’t appear for at least an hour after jihyo arrives.

tzuyu considers sending her a text, wanting to know if she was still going, and part of her wanted to tell nayeon not to show up. it was for nayeon’s own good, truly, because if tzuyu could choose between having jihyo or nayeon there, of course she’d pick nayeon, who was equivalent to her of what jihyo was for dahyun.

the delay had a few reasons. valentines day would be in a few hours and nayeon had just seen a post of her ex with her current girlfriend — momo still looked beautiful, nayeon thought as she chugged a dose of pure vodka. she only remembers she was supposed to attend to tzuyu’s small party when it’s already getting dark outside and she’s utterly drunk.

“not a problem,” nayeon tells herself. “wait for me, tzuyu!”

nayeon does her best to look presentable. she makes sure to brush her teeth thoroughly and put on enough perfume so that nobody would know she had her own little party before, a party with way too much vodka, sad music and the bunny plushie momo had given her on their first date as the only invited member.

nayeon was still drunk after all, and despite not looking like she was, she had a hard time to arrive at tzuyu’s new home. taking the elevator makes her dizzy, and nayeon soon starts to regret forgetting that it was supposed to be tzuyu’s happy day before she started her pity party.

“i’m here! i made it,” nayeon sighs, relieved. she knocks at the door and rings the bell instead of deciding between each, keeping a hand on the wall so that she wouldn’t fall. when the door opens, the first thing nayeon does is hug whoever had opened it for her, even kissing the person’s cheek. “tzuyu, unnie is here! huh, why are you so small…”

“it’s dahyun, miss im.” dahyun freezes as nayeon hugs her. “c-come on in. i’ll go get tzuyu.”

dahyun all but escapes from nayeon’s grip, scared. not of nayeon, of course not, tzuyu’s boss was far from being scary, but of what jihyo would think when she saw that nayeon was there. she finds tzuyu at the kitchen, preparing a colorful drink for one of their friends, and she almost growls tzuyu’s name as she calls for her girlfriend, evidently angry.

“why didn’t you tell me nayeon was coming?!” dahyun whispers as if she was screaming, making tzuyu startled.

“you didn’t tell me jihyo was coming either! i didn’t know you would invite her!” tzuyu replied the same way, finishing the drink regardless of dahyun staring at her.

dahyun looks at nayeon from where she stands, watching tzuyu’s boss play with ari, their puppy.

nayeon was welcomed, of course she was. dahyun had nothing against her, even if nayeon liked to make her boss angry, which consequentially made her and all of the employees have to work harder. but nayeon should be kept away from jihyo, just like jihyo should be kept away from nayeon.

“of course i would invite her!” dahyun sighed, shaking her head. “tzuyu, how could you think i wouldn’t invite jihyo? she made this happen.”

“i’m sorry, okay!” tzuyu turns to face dahyun, keeping her head down like a puppy who had made a mess and was aware of it. “nayeon unnie needs to go out more often. and it’s one of the most important days in our lives. i had to invite her too.”

“i know, i know.” dahyun hugs her, knowing tzuyu was starting to feel guilty. “i should’ve realized you would want her here. it’s okay, tzu.”

tzuyu sighs. “at least now we know we have to tell each other who we’re inviting when throwing a party.”

“oh, definitely.” dahyun laughs. she pulls away way too soon for tzuyu’s taste, looking around to try and find nayeon. “i should go find jihyo unnie before… where is nayeon?”

nayeon doesn’t know how that would be possible, but she thinks she sees momo from afar.

even if that is not momo, nayeon walks closer to the girl, entering the deck that had only a few people and the woman she thought was momo. the woman is alone and she looks pretty, like momo, and there was no way nayeon’s drunk mind could understand that momo would never be there. momo wouldn’t — because she never liked tzuyu. and because she was in japan.

for a brief moment, nayeon considers stopping and heading another way. she remembers she was waiting for tzuyu, and that almost makes her turn around, but the possibility of the girl being momo makes nayeon keep walking, and walking, until she’s right behind her.

nayeon was never one to drink strong alcoholic beverages. she could handle beer and wine, but she never exceeded in quantity. ironically, when she decides to do so, she does it with a much stronger option of alcohol. nayeon also never kissed people when she was drunk, but it’s her first reaction when the woman turns around.

she sees a face that is not momo’s, and she knows she’s not kissing her ex then. she doesn’t stop, however. not until she has her lips on jihyo’s, and jihyo is kissing her back — because that was sana, or was it not?

it didn’t feel like sana. sana had gone away to get her a drink, but both of the woman’s hands on her waist were empty, and they were bigger than sana’s. jihyo doesn’t pull away at first, enjoying the kiss without even knowing who was kissing her, her mind making her believe it was sana, just so she could kiss the woman back as intensely as she was being kissed.

“jihyo?”

the voice makes jihyo stop, placing her hands on the woman’s shoulders to pull her away, looking at sana’s direction.

dahyun and tzuyu are right behind her, with their faces red. jihyo wouldn’t dare to imagine what was going on in their heads. she doesn’t want to know, but the moment she looks at the person who had been kissing her, she understands.

“sana…” jihyo pulls away completely, and then nayeon’s hands are no longer on her waist. “sana, i didn’t know it wasn’t you.”

sana’s grip on the cup with jihyo’s drink was strong. if she got any angrier, it could certainly break. “how could you not know?”

“nayeon unnie,” tzuyu reaches closer, wanting to know if nayeon was doing alright. she seemed like she was when she was kissing jihyo, but tzuyu was still afraid nayeon didn’t even know what she was doing. “did you drink?” tzuyu whispers only for her to hear, earning a slow nod from nayeon.

“oh, that is the nayeon girl.” sana laughs. “it all makes sense now. how could i be so stupid?”

jihyo shakes her head quickly. “no, it’s not what you’re thinking. wait, sana!”

sana turns around, so angry that her face burned, leaving the drink with dahyun on the way. nobody dares to say a word. not nayeon’s or jihyo’s employees. but nayeon eventually gathers courage to speak.

“tzuyu, did i just kiss park jihyo?” nayeon asks, starting to sober up.

tzuyu gulps. “yes.”

“oh.” nayeon finds somewhere to sit. she felt like she would fall to the ground if she didn’t. “i think… i just ruined her relationship. on valentines day.”

“it’s technically tomorrow…” tzuyu tries to make it better.

“she was crying when she left.” nayeon mumbles. “i saw it on her face.”

tzuyu stays silent for a moment, wanting to understand what was going on. “what did you drink, unnie? why did you come if you’re not well?”

“momo is dating someone else. i drank when i saw her post. then i kept drinking.” nayeon says. the alcohol didn’t seem to be in her system anymore, and nayeon knew it was there, but after seeing jihyo cry for the first time, she no longer felt drunk. “i’m sorry, tzu. i ruined the night for everybody, didn’t i?”

“not for me, unnie. it’s okay.” tzuyu says warmly, far too used to nayeon being a mess, always there to support her. “come on, let’s get inside. i’ll make you a coffee.”

on the other side of the door of tzuyu and dahyun’s apartment, sana and jihyo talk. sana becomes less angry of jihyo when she sees her cry, and jihyo feels more guilty each second.

“stop lying to yourself, jihyo! you might like me, i believe you do, but you will never love me. and you know that that is what i’m looking for. you’re just… not it.” sana says. she’s not loud, or harsh, but it makes jihyo cry regardless.

“i don’t have that kind of relationship with im nayeon.” jihyo explains herself. “i don’t know why she kissed me, i swear, sana, i didn’t know it was her. i like you and i’m really trying to love you…”

“you can’t try to love someone.” sana sighs.

there’s a lot sana wanted to say, a lot jihyo hasn’t realized. starting by the fact that all jihyo ever talked about with her was work and im nayeon — these things said a lot about jihyo and how she felt, but sana couldn’t tell that to her. jihyo wouldn’t understand. not at that moment, at least.

“look, hyo, i know you didn’t mean to kiss her. that doesn’t matter anymore.” sana continues. “but i’m starting to love you and it would be better for me if we just stopped seeing each other.”

sana’s words are on jihyo’s mind from the moment sana leaves to the moment jihyo goes to bed. when she wakes up the next day, they’re still in her mind, and jihyo keeps wondering when she will ever have a successful relationship with someone special.

romantic love was an unknown feeling for jihyo. she has tried to learn what it is with many different women, but none of them managed to make her fall that deep. sana was nice to her, and out of all the girls jihyo has tried to be in a relationship with, she was the only one who made her heart race. sana treated her like a princess — perhaps that was why jihyo had grown attached.

but then again, liking someone was far too different than loving. and that, jihyo knew, she could never give sana.

the first thing jihyo does when she arrives at her restaurant is having a talk with all of her employees who watched what had happened the other day. she felt like she owned them explanation, and the fact that jihyo treated them all like family was part of why they were so good at what they did, what made them a team.

she speaks with dahyun alone then, because dahyun deserved a proper apology.

“it’s no big deal for us, unnie. tzuyu really didn’t mind it. we had a great time together before all of that happened anyway.” dahyun soothed her.

that seems to be enough for jihyo. she lets her worries aside while she works. it’s almost automatic, really, how she walks around the big kitchen and prepares all sorts of dishes, teaching things to her employees while running to cook as fast as she could. valentines day was always a busy day — despite not owning her own restaurant for a long time, jihyo has worked in other places, so she was used to the rush.

by the end of the day, tzuyu shows up. she’s there to pick dahyun up, and to give jihyo a letter from nayeon.

“jihyo unnie,” tzuyu clears her throat. “before you read this, keep in mind that nayeon unnie genuinely regrets what she did. she’s not… good with words. but i can assure you she didn’t want to make you… uhm… upset.”

“she really isn’t.” jihyo says, clearly unamused. “you should two go ahead. i’ll be going home soon as well.”

dahyun and tzuyu give her their ‘good night’s, but before they go, tzuyu hands jihyo a package. “before i forget. it’s from unnie too.”

jihyo finds a place to sit. before she leaves, she wants to read the letter sent to her, and open the… was it a gif? from nayeon. she didn’t expect to receive an apology, really. jihyo had kissed her back, though admitting that was hard. she didn’t like that she had cheated on sana, and she hated that nayeon’s lips didn’t feel bad, but jihyo wasn’t angry at nayeon. at all.

she doesn’t try to understand what she was feeling. instead, jihyo skips overthinking and focus on her hatred towards nayeon as she reads the letter.

dear miss park,

i’m deeply sorry for my actions last week. tzuyu told me to apologize i didn’t mean to kiss you, though your lips felt quite great i was drunk, and i usually don’t drink much, which is why i didn’t know what i was doing when all of that happened. i’m genuinely sorry to have ruined your night so badly. surprisingly, i did not like to see you cry, because you look pretty doing it, and it makes me think you’re not as hateable as you really are. next time, i’ll be a little less worse, and only do to you what you would do to me.

sincerely,

chou tzu im nayeon (and chou tzuyu. she made me write the good parts. i would never be this soft with you.)

ps.: the wine is not poisoned. i heard from tzuyu that you’re a fan of handmade bear, so i got you wine. happy valentines day.

the letter was short, but there was nothing else nayeon could have really said to her. nothing that wouldn’t sound like she was trying to make a truce. because nayeon wasn’t. but jihyo liked the way nayeon worded what she felt, wondering if nayeon really meant it when she said certain things — she quickly stops once she realizes that was coming from im nayeon.

“i hope you’re telling me the truth, im nayeon.” jihyo mutters as she serves a glass of wine for herself.

tzuyu had forgotten to tell nayeon that jihyo wasn’t picky with her alcohol.

especially not so when she was trying to hide from herself that she was falling in love with her worst enemy. and jihyo was, unfortunately, kind of good at it. success seemed to run after her, even when it wasn’t needed.

#self indulgent #nayeon #jihyo #dahyun #tzuyu #nahyo #datzu #but only a little bit #sfw #non rq

[headkiss]

Hey! I’m not sure if this is too specific of a request or not but i saw you were taking requests so decided to shoot my shot? So it's a steve x reader imagine where they have defeated vecna and all. And reader was the one in place of max who got in the coma but now she's awake. But she can feel steve pulling away from her after everything. And one day she just gets fed up and asks him why is he doing this to them and my brain keeps imagining that scene in greys anatomy where Alex is yelling at Izzy that “you freakin died in my arms…I’m scared to move, I’m scared to breath, I’m scared to touch you”

you of course don't have to do it if you don't want toooo! and you can also take as much creative liberty as you want to if you do decide to do it 😀

anyway i love your writing sm, it brings me a lot of joy! thank youuuu ♥️

hiii as a greys fan myself i sort of had to write this and i hope i did it well!! thank you so much for requesting and being so nice | 0.9k words angst to fluff (?) i think!

Things have been different ever since you woke up. Ever since Vecna cursed you and put you in a coma, since your friends defeated him and El somehow saved your life.

It was terrifying, and the amount of time that passed while you were unconscious was disorienting. For you and everyone else.

It was difficult for all of you, the trauma and the fear that remained. The idea that you could’ve died. You could barely grasp it.

You can’t imagine what it was like for Steve, for the boy who loved you and you loved right back. You have no idea what you would’ve done had the roles been reversed, how you would have coped not knowing if he’d wake up or not.

You knew that he came to visit you at least once a day, and would even sleep in a cot next to you sometimes. It makes your heart ache.

It made sense for him to be extra careful with you for the first couple of weeks. He would help you stand, help you move around. He wouldn’t leave your side.

Now, however, a couple of months of healing and physical therapy down, you wished he would treat you normally again. Everyone was still so wary around you and you knew why, you just wanted someone to make you feel like yourself. You wanted Steve to do that.

You were still the same person, just with thick glasses and less flexible limbs, but still you.

You don’t remember the last time he kissed you somewhere that wasn’t your forehead or hand or cheek. The last time he actually kissed you.

It’s like he’s pulling away without meaning to, drifting further from what you were.

You’re on his couch watching a movie, cuddled close and holding hands. Even pressed together, there’s a distance between you and you can feel it.

You shift to kiss his neck, just soft pecks up to his jaw. He turns his face when you get close, kissing you. Finally. It’s nothing extreme, no tongue or anything, but it’s something.

When you try to deepen it, he pulls away. “Baby.”

“What’s wrong, Steve?”

“Nothing,” he runs a hand through his hair, like he’s stressed. “Can we just watch the movie?”

“No.” You sit up fully to face him, “we need to talk about this.”

“About what?”

“Steve, come on. Ever since I woke up you won’t kiss me, you’ll barely even touch me.”

His heart is pounding because he knows you’re right but he’s scared. He’s terrified that you’ll be ripped away from him again and he can’t get it out of his head. It haunts him every day.

“I kiss you.”

“You know what I mean. I know it was scary, Steve. I know. But I’m right here, and I need you to be, too.”

He has to be honest, he knows that, but he feels guilty feeling this way when you’re the one who died.

“You died. You died in my arms and I watched it happen. I couldn’t save you… I couldn't do anything. I was so scared, and I know that you were too, but you don’t know what it was like for me.”

You understand where he’s coming from, and it brings tears to your eyes to think about what kind of state he was in. Only, you’re okay now, and he needs to understand that.

“Listen to me. I know you were afraid and alone but I’m here now,” you take his hand and place it on your cheek, yours holding it there. “I’m alive and with you.”

“You’re not, though!” He doesn’t mean to be so loud, or to get frustrated but he can’t help it. “You can barely see without those glasses and I see you wince all the time. You’re not the same, neither of us are. I’m scared to move, I’m scared to breathe. I’m terrified that I’ll do something that hurts you.”

You’re crying now, you both are.

“Steve. What hurts me is how you’re treating me like something breakable. I’m safe. We’re safe.”

He swipes his thumb over your cheek, you reach out and do the same to his. Things won’t be solved so quickly, both of you know that, but it’s a start.

“I know. I know that, I do, I’m just so scared.”

You move his hand to press over your heart, letting him feel it beat. He takes in a shaky breath, like it’s really helping him. You’re alive and that’s what’s important, he’s aware of it. He thinks he’ll make a new habit of listening to your heartbeat.

He leans his forehead against yours. “I’ll try to be better. I’m sorry for being distant.”

“You’re already amazing, Steve. You take care of me and I love you so much for it. I just want you to see that everything’s gonna be fine.”

He kisses you, one, two, three quick pecks that might not be much, but the contact grounds you both. It’s what you’ve been needing for so long.

“I love you too, baby. Can't imagine my life without you.”

“You don’t have to anymore. I’m here, and I’m staying.”

He’s impossibly grateful that you’re his, that you survived despite the odds. He’s grateful that you spoke up because he didn’t realize how much he needed to let it out until you did.

He’s eternally grateful that you love him.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington request #steve harrington requests #steve harrington story #steve stranger things #steve harrington imagines #stevie blurbs #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine

[always-coffee]

Cash (June 5, 2017-March 19, 2024)

It’s so strange, to me—the emptiness.

The space that used to be filled has gone silent. The bed is empty. The food dish unfilled.

I find myself haunted by absence. An imagined footfall or jingle of a collar. A whine in the night.

Walking down the stairs with the expectation of happy butt wiggles and cute, seal-faced joy. Being careful not to drop food, because the dog might eat it. (He pounced on everything you dropped, always. He was on a very particular diet for health reasons.)

So much of my life and my daily life revolved around him. A few summers back, my dad even painted the back sliding door, because Cash was very offended that birds exist and kept hurling himself at the glass. Once he couldn’t see them, he chilled out. He also was annoyed if someone was Outside and he was inside. Keep in mind, he didn't want to be outside. He just didn't want you out there.

Cash had a very specific bed time. He could tell time incredibly well. And he would be very annoyed if his bedtime came and went and he wasn’t tucked in. He’d stare at you, like, “Hey, excuse me. We’re late.” He knew different days of the week, and he knew when to expect one of my siblings for a weekly visit.

He objected to departures, because how dare you. The only way to placate him was to offer him a plate of snackies as you exited. He loved bananas and ice cubes with a little bit of pumpkin frozen in them. I still have a whole baggie of them in the freezer. I'd just made him a fresh batch of sweet potatoes, his favorite treat, the other day. I cannot bring myself to throw them out yet.

He was very smart and learned tricks fast. This was the first dog I ever trained without my mother around. Sometimes, I was very sure he was smarter than me. He was also very, very stubborn, and you could tell when he heard a command and was like, nope.

Cash had anxiety. He was on meds. (Big fan of meds. The difference they made for him was incredible.) He saw a specialist. She was a godsend and went above and beyond to help, especially when he started to have health issues last year. Then, in Sept., he bloated, and an emergency surgery saved his life. The second I realized the symptoms (because I dive into research mode when I am trying to fix or help), it was off to the doggo ER before the sun began to rise.

Most dogs are fine after bloat surgery, if it's caught in time. Cash was not. Because Cash also had IBD and to get him to eat following his surgery, he got food that he wasn’t supposed to have. This caused all sorts of chaos for him. For months, I hand-filled a new medicine (powder into gel caps). I became very good at it, despite looking like I was moonlighting as Walter White. Or Scarface. Later, I made approximately 400 phone calls to get him a different med that he needed and had to come from a specialized pharmacy.

By all accounts, he should’ve died back in September, so the time since then has been extra time. I missed so many things taking care of him, spending time with him, playing allllll the rounds of fetch (his favorite). It took up so much of my time and energy. This is the summarized version. But I would’ve done it forever, if it would have made a difference. And I’d do it all again tomorrow, even feeling the way I do right now. I don't love small.

(This was all this week's newsletter, if that interests you. It's free: https://buttondown.email/alwayscoffee.)

#pup #pupper #doggo #best pup #worst pup #I miss him #Cash was the best buddy #my sweet boy

[callsign-artemis]

A/N: Okay okay so. Ive decided after starting my 100th rewatch of The Walking Dead that I need to write a fic. It’s OcxOc but the plot twist is that y’all won’t meet the Love interest until season 7 and I’m starting at season 1 because I’m here to COMMIT!! Everything has been proofread by @ebodebo (go follow her she’s amazing)

ANYWHO! Updates will probably be sporadic so I’m going to do my best to make all chapters after chapter 1 as long as possible🙏

Introducing: Wandering - A walking dead story

———————————————————————

Most people say they don’t remember the day the world went to shit, but I don’t think that day will ever truly unstick itself from my bones

Chapter one- the end

August 26th, 2010

The beeping of hospital monitors haunted my sleep. I’d been spending every night in uncomfortable, plastic, hospital chairs for as many nights as my mom allowed. My father Rick Grimes had been shot in the line of duty 2 weeks ago and had fallen into a coma from the blood loss. I stayed with him when my mom worked so he wasn’t alone. I’d tell him about school, keep him updated on Carl and read to him, praying he could hear me. A fresh vase of flowers at least made the room bright for when he’d wake up.

But right now I was sleeping, or trying anyway. I could feel a thin hospital blanket on me. Theo, one of the hospital's CNAs, harassed me about taking care of myself and usually I fell asleep fully clothed in their shitty chairs without a blanket.

“Peaches?” The voice behind her made Nadia practically jump out of her seat.

“Jesus Shane….you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?” Nadia asked harshly. She never liked Shane, even as a little girl they butted heads. She couldn’t for the life of her imagine why Rick would hang out with him after work.

“Nadia we need to go. Now.” He spoke quickly, making his way to her dads bed and kneeling down beside him. “Rick, if you’re gonna wake up now’s the time man, shits going down and we need to leave.”

“Shane,” Nadia laughed half heartedly “what are you talking about?” Just when she thought he was finally losing it, gunfire started to ring out from outside the door. Shane pulled Nadia down under him as she screamed. Shane covered her mouth and she would’ve bit him in different circumstances.(I mean who the hell opens gunfire in a hospital?!)

Nadia could feel the tears start to well as Shane begged her father to wake up so they could leave, telling him that if we stayed they’d all die. After a few minutes of bargaining Shane picked Nadia up and dragged her out of the room.

“No!” She tried to push against his grip but he was incredibly strong. Nadia kicked and pulled until Shane pushed her into a hallway, begging her to be quiet or else they’d be found. She peaked around the corner, Shane pulled a gurney in front of Rick’s room. There was blood everywhere, screams and gunfire echoed down the hall. Shane grabbed her arm and they ran from the hospital, Nadia broke down when they got to his pickup.

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Nadia hit Shane’s arm as hard as she could over and over and over until she didn’t have it in her anymore. She knew he was hurting too but didn’t care. He left her dad there to die.

“Peaches I had to.”

“Don’t call me peaches Shane. My dad is fucking dead.”

Shane sighed again, the truck roared to life as we peeled out of the parking lot. She stared out the window, thinking of her dad. Would he die? Would they leave a comatose man’s body to sort himself out? What if he woke up and everyone was gone?

Nadia and her father had always been close. She was the stereotypical ‘daddy’s girl’, hell as soon as she was old enough to hold a rifle without falling over she and her dad had gone hunting every season. He taught her how to cook, she knew all his favorite bands and all the words to every corny song that he absolutely loved. Sometimes when Carl was a baby she and Rick would sneak out and go to the 7/11 down the block just to get candy and rent cheesy movies to watch together….and now they’d never share those moments again.

“We’re here.”

Shane’s voice broke Nadia from her daze, she looked out the window to see her mom and brother already packed up ready to hit the road. “Go’n and pack a bag, I’ll talk to your mama and Carl.”

Carl.

He was only 10…and now he’s going to find out he’ll never see his dad again and the world might be ending?? He’ll never get those moments hunting alone with his dad as the sun breaks the day. Or watch cheesy movies with her and their dad when Nadia would be home from college. Nadia could feel the bile rising once again as she made her way past her family and into her room.

She had a typical 17 year olds room. Honestly, the floor was littered with laundry she needed to do as well as some CDs she’d rummaged through that morning. Her walls were a neon teal, they’d mostly been covered with posters of movies and bands, and paintings she’d created out of boredom. She tried to soak in every inch of her room in case she’d never see it again. As she started to pack she took a Polaroid off her wall.

“Jeez Anthony….you should be at practice right around now. Please be safe.”

She tucked the Polaroid of her and her best friend into the pocket of her backpack and kept packing. Just the essentials: a couple pairs of jeans, some tee shirts, boots, hat, dads hunting jacket, socks…toothbrush? Definitely a toothbrush. A hairbrush and a few notebooks and pens (and some comic books for Carl). She also made the decision to pack her hunting rifle in case they got stuck foraging for food, as well as a heavy knife.

She threw her bag into the back of the truck so that no one would suspect how heavy it was. Her mom and brother were crying into Shane as he had just broken the news. Or however he’d spun the story…but Nadia knew the truth that Shane had abandoned his “best friend”. Shane loaded everyone up into the truck and said they’d be headed to Atlanta and that the military would help them.

“Are we going to die?”

While it was spoken barely above a whisper, the question jolted Nadia out of her daydreamed haze. She looked down at her brother Carl who was laying in her lap.

“No baby. Because I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you safe, and so will mom and Shane.” Nadia tried her best to reassure him, rubbing his back softly. She’d instructed him to lay in her lap so he couldn’t see the panic that the rest of the world was in.

Before they knew it, they’d left King County and were headed to Atlanta. Nadia fiddled with her cross necklace, Carl had fallen asleep leaving the truck uncomfortably quiet.

The Grimes weren’t really a religious family but Nadia did occasionally attend Wednesday night Youth Group with her best friend Anthony when she was in town. The necklace was a gift from him.

Anthony. There he was on her mind again, she’d thought about calling him but Lori demanded she save her battery incase of emergency. Anthony Smith had been her best friend since middle school. They did everything together and were practically attached at the hip when they saw each other. He was a year older than her but that never mattered in how close they were.

Anthony was actually quite soft spoken, and smart as a whip. He was a tall kid, probably standing at about 6’3. He was built like an athlete, but he had to be with Track and field. They actually became friends at a track meet in sixth grade and kept up with eachother daily through AOL and Skype. And obviously only hung around each other at said meets. Anthony’s dad was a PE teacher and Coach so he definitely fueled the athletic fire in both kids. Anthony has always been a sweet kid and even when he was an asshole Nadia could never be mad at-

“Nadia! Get your head out of the clouds I’m talking!”

Nadia jolted in her seat, there she was daydreaming again. Lori was giving her daughter quite the concerned look.

“Where are we mom?” Nadia looked out the window to see full bumper to bumper traffic.

“Outside of Atlanta but as you can see we’re stuck in traffic” Shane answered from outside, with quite an annoyed tone Nadia noticed. She ignored Shane and hopped out of the truck so she could stretch her legs.

“Where’s Carl? I think I threw some comic books in my bag, I’m sure he’s bored out of his mind sitting here.” Nadia looked around and spotted Carl a few cars down playing checkers with a girl who looked to be about his age. She had a short blonde bob and a smile as bright as the sun. Nadia smiled in amusement and made her way to the car with her mom. “Someone has a cru-ush!” She teased in a sing-song voice. She yelped when Carl turned around and smacked her arm as hard as he could.

“Mo-om!!! Carl hit me!”

“Don’t tease your brother then!” She laughed. Nadia rolled her eyes and fluffed her brother's hair before sitting behind him to watch the kids play. Right as she sat down a woman came from the front of the car with waters. She was a smaller woman with buzzed gray hair.

“Oh! You must be Nadia, I’m Carol!” She had a smile just as bright as Sofias, Nadia made a mental note that they must be related. Nadia smiled and thanked her for the water, and just as she took a sip Carl enacted his revenge.

“You say I have a crush on a girl I just met when you’ve been after Anthony since forever.” Nadia showered the back of Carls with the water she had just taken a sip of and was prepared to cuss him out when the commotion started. Bombs were dropping into Atlanta.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Nadia screamed as she pulled the kids down to the ground underneath Carol’s car. She moved her body over the both of them so they would be shielded if anything came down.

The rest of the night was a blur. Shane grabbed everyone’s bags from the truck, grunting as he lifted Nadia’s particularly heavy bag. They ran into the woods with Carol, her husband Ed, and Sophia. There were screams in the distance and somehow Nadia and the kids got separated from the rest of the group. They ran until they came up on a high spot with a small clearing.

“Stop right there.” The shotgun barrel was aimed right between Nadia’s eyes. They widened with fear as Nadia put both her hand in front of her slowly.

“Sir, we’re just trying to get off the road…I have two small kids with me, please.”

The man’s aim faltered and Nadia rushed him, taking the gun and pointing it back at him. It probably wasn’t her smartest move but she had Sophia and Carl to look out for. There was a shriek behind her and Nadia whipped around just in time to shoot a man who was trying to get Sophia. Wait…what the hell?

Nadia slowly crept up to the man. He looked pale, his eyes were white and glossy and there was fresh blood around his mouth.

“Good aim kid. I’m sorry I pointed that thing at you. I just had to make sure you weren’t like him. The names Dale, you kids can stay with me and the girls tonight and we’ll look for your crew in the morning.” Dale smiled at her warmly, he was an older man judging by his white hair. But he had kind eyes and it was late so Nadia decided he could he trusted for the night.

She nodded, grabbing the kids as they headed into Dale's RV. There were two blonde girls sitting on the couch. One older one younger, Nadia figured they were probably sisters.

“Dale, who are they?” The older blonde asked, glaring at the three kids.

“Easy Andrea, the older one can take out those things like you wouldn’t believe!” Dale smiled back at Nadia. “They’re just staying for the night and…I didn’t get your name sweetheart?”

“Nadia. Nadia Grimes.”

———————————————————————

2nd A/N: (I will also be posting this story on Ao3 & Wattpad under Artemis Bradshaw_writes/Art_Bradshaw_Writes)

#the walking dead #ao3 fanfic #wandering #oc #Nadia Grimes having beef w Shane for no reason is actually me #zombie apocolypse au #the walking dead au #fanfic #yall I cannot wait for Nadia to get Shane’s ASS #rick grimes #carl did Nadia so dirty bring up Anthony like that but she deserved it

[specialagentlokitty]

Thomas Barrow x Daughter!reader - the same face

More Thomas Barrow Ideas you seek? How about Thomas having a daughter (maybe he was very intoxicated when he slept with the Reader's mother as a way of trying to force himself into liking women) and he takes teen Reader in as her mother thinks she's weird due to her not understanding social cues and Thomas can relate to not being able to fit in and having to hide who you are? - Anon💜

A/N: so I tried to search how old he was but I couldn’t so just imagine he’s old enough to have a teenager daughter

Thomas knew he had a daughter, the moment your mother had found out she was pregnant she wrote to him just to tell him, stating she wouldn’t force him to be part of your life.

And aside from visiting you a few times while you were growing up, he didn’t really insert himself into your life.

Sure, he sometimes sent your mum money for you, to buy you things you needed since she didn’t have much money, but that was about it.

Until the day he got the letter from your mum saying that she couldn’t handle you anymore, stating you were strange and you were ‘normal’ and since you were a teenager she didn’t want you in the home anymore.

She had gotten fed up of your behaviour and didn’t want to deal with it anymore.

And Thomas was beyond furious with her.

So he took the letter, and he went straight to Mr Carson.

“I would like to request a few days off if possible?”

Mr Carson looked up from his papers, brows furrowed a little bit.

“Why might that be Thomas? After everything you had done why would you think I would possibly allow such kindness to you?”

Thomas sighed and handed him the letter.

He didn’t really want anyone else to know he had a daughter, he wanted to try and keep it a secret since it wasn’t anyone’s business.

But he couldn’t leave you on the streets wherever you were right now.

Mr Carson set the letter aside.

“I see, follow me.”

Mr Carson and Thomas both rushed up the stairs and straight to Lord Grantham.

“Go on.” Mr Carson said.

“I would like a few days off my Lord, for family reasons.”

“I see, and Carson decided to bring you here to tell me this?”

“That is not the entire story my lord. Thomas tell him.”

Thomas sighed clenching his jaw a little as he looked at the lord of the house.

“It is so I can find my daughter and with your permission bring her here my Lord.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Yes my lord. She will be about 15 now I believe, she lives with her mother a few hours away but her mother has recently tossed her out on the streets.”

Lord Grantham nodded his head and sighed slightly.

“Do you wish to bring her here?”

“If possible my lord, yes.”

“Will she be able to work?”

Thomas looked to Mr Carson before turning back to his lordship.

“If I am to be honest my lord, I’m not sure. (Y/N) is… different…”

“Different how?”

“She’s… she struggles to understand social cues my Lord, I fear she may not fully understand how to address his lordship or his family.”

“How about a kitchen maid then? She needn’t have to interact with us.”

“And that would be okay my lord?”

“Yes Thomas, go find your daughter and bring her here.”

“Thank you my lord!”

Thomas rushed away, changing, he made his way to the train station.

He had a feeling he knew exactly where to find you, you grew up on a small farm, outside of any town or city or village, but if he was right, your mother would’ve taken you to a nearby town.

It took a long time to get there, and he had to book a room at a hotel last minute, it was dark, and he wouldn’t be able to find you this late at night.

Depending on how long you had been here you probably would know where to hide, at least that’s what he hoped, but he couldn’t help but worry, so he went back down.

“Excuse me, I don’t suppose you know anything about a young woman, she would be around 15, left by her mother here?”

The man behind the desk looked up from his papers and took his glasses off.

“I see a lot of young women around here, can you describe her?”

“Uhm.. it’s been a few years I saw her, but I suppose (H/C) hair, (E/C) eyes, she has usually looks a little lost, probably came across as rude at times.”

“Aye you mean (Y/N).” He chuckled.

“Yes! Yes! That’s her? Where can I find her?”

The man stood up and gestured for Thomas to follow him, so he did, and the man stood at the doorway of the hotel, and gestured down the street.

“Many of our younger homeless population live in some of the abandoned houses down there, we have tried removing them, but it looks better if they are not on the street.”

“Thank you, May I take a candle?”

“Absolutely.”

The man handed him one and Thomas immediately began to make his way down, and he found the abandoned houses, two of them, and he pushed a door open.

A few younger men looked at him but said nothing.

“You want shelter go upstairs.” One said.

“Looking for my daughter.”

“Ladies next door. Knock and wait.”

Thomas nodded and he made his way over to the next house, knocking on the door he waited and someone opened the door.

She seemed exhausted.

“Not doing business.”

“I do not care about that, have you seen a young girl, (H/C)hair, (E/C) eyes, sometimes rude.”

“One moment.”

The woman closed the door and a few minutes later it was opened again.

You were slightly dirty, and your dress was covered in dirt as well.

You stared at him and blinked.

“Father?”

“Come on, you’re coming with me.”

He began to walk down the stairs and you rushed after him.

He led you up to his hotel room and he made you some tea and had some food ordered to the room for you.

“Why are you here?” You asked.

“Your mother told me she kicked you on the street, for being different.”

You sighed softly and nodded your head.

“I.. I do not know when to be polite to people, or when to address them, I do not know when someone is angry or when I have said something inappropriate. Mother got fed up of me making everybody angry.”

Thomas nodded his head and sat down on the chair.

“You struggle with social cues.”

You nodded your head.

“I am different, mother said I was bad for business and nowhere would hire me. So she left me here.”

“When?”

“I don’t know, a while ago.”

Thomas sighed, and you looked at him a little confused.

“Are you angry with me?”

Thomas looked up and reached over, taking your hand in his and you looked even more confused.

“No, no of course I’m not angry with you, you have done nothing wrong. You are different (Y/N), and that’s okay.”

“It is?”

Thomas gave you a small smile.

“Of course it is, you’re my daughter, okay? Different or not I will still love you. I know I have not been around much, and I’m sorry.”

“My mother said you are not like other men.”

“I’m… I’m not…”

You looked at him, and down at your hand.

“Why?”

Thomas sighed, shaking his head a little bit.

“You needn’t worry about that. Get some sleep, I will buy you a new dress in the morning and we will set off for Downton.”

You nodded and he covered you up and he slept on the floor.

He woke up early the next morning and got you a new dress similar to the one you were wearing and left it on the chair for you when you woke up.

He waited for you to change before coming back into the room.

“We can wash and fix this back at Downton.”

Thomas packed it with his belongings, and he led you to the train station.

Your father told you about the dos and donts of being at Downton, that you would be working in a few weeks, and how to address people.

He was allowed by Mrs Hughes to go help settle you in, and he sat on your bed with you.

“I will not get tossed out of here will I?”

“Of course not, and if you do?”

Thomas took your hand.

“I will go with you.”

You looked at your hand in his, then up at him.

“Thank you.”

Thomas smiled and leant forward, kissing the top of your head.

“You’re a little different, and that is okay, remember that.”

“I will try. But father why am I so different? Why am I not like other people?”

Thomas took a small breath.

“I don’t know (Y/N), I don’t. And I wish I had the answers, for both of us.”

You looked at him, tilting your head a little.

“Maybe one day we can both have answers?”

Thomas smiled.

“Maybe.”

There was a knock on the door and he stood up, and you stayed sat down.

“It is custom to stand when your employer or better enters a room.” Mrs Hughes said.

You stood up, standing next to your dad.

“Why?”

“(Y/N).” Thomas warned.

He turned to the head housemaid.

“I apologise, she has no understanding of social cues, it’s something she struggles with.”

“That is fine, but can you do me a favour (Y/N)?”

You looked at her and nodded your head.

“When anyone of the family are in your presence, stop what you are doing to greet them, stand up if you are sat down, and greet them as My Lord or My lady.”

You furrowed your brows a little bit.

“Every time?”

“Every time.” She smiled, “all the rest of us will be more patient in helping you learn this.”

“Okay.”

“Perfect, Thomas Mr Carson is asking for you, luncheon is nearly ready.”

“Right, thank you. Will you stay here?” Thomas asked you.

“Can I sit in the servants hall and wait?”

“You can sit in my living room.” Mrs Hughes smiled.

You nodded and walked with her and your father and she sat you in the living you, handing you some tea and closed the door.

“She really doesn’t understand any of this?”

“No.”

She nodded her head.

“I will watch her until your return.”

Thomas said nothing he just walk away with his usual poker face.

There really was a resemblance in you and your father, and it was the blank look you both held on your faces.

While he plastered on a fake smile when needed or a grin or a smirk, you held the expression all the time and it worried her.

It worried Thomas as well, and everyone else who had just met you.

Someone would eventually deem you as rude, and they were not ready for the fallout of that conversation, Thomas was hoping maybe he could teach you a few tricks he knew to see if it would help.

But first?

He had to get to know you first, and earn your trust, and hopefully that would count for something

#Downton abbey #downton abbey x reader #Downton abbey x you #Downton abbey imagine #Thomas Barrow #Thomas Barrow x reader #Thomas Barrow x you #Thomas Barrow imagine

[asfearlessasamango]

here i ammmmm i hope this isnt the longest ask ever lol but i cannot overstate how GORGEOUS i find your prose. the phrase “tiredness curls up in each joint like old cats in old corners” is so absolutely evocative and paints such a melancholic, beautiful, rich picture in my mind every time i remember it. i could actually get it tattooed thats how seriously beautiful i find it. most of all i loooooooove the amount of social norms, architectural details, cultural differences etc etc you infused in the story to fill in the gaps of the canon universe. the choice of using of rice paper vs. glass and all the reasoning behind it is the example that comes to mind, but im sure that if i knew more about east asian cultures, i could identify more and more details you scattered throughout the plot to turn this make believe world into a truthful parallel of the real one we have. i can only say bravo. and if you have any recommended reading for homework, i’d love to know more about these references! now back to your writing! one of thee strongest points of the story, for me, is how believable these characters are as people. they feel so fully fleshed out that sometimes it was like intruding on someone’s most private thoughts - even a little painful to keep going, and i mean that in the best way possible! i especially loved the subtle addition of zuko’s ingrained sexism and prejudice against other nations, things that ofc he’s never had reason to unlearn in this universe. he is compassionate, but can be very unkind - seems like a delicate balance, but in your story, it just flows naturally. you inhabit their heads, strengths, flaws and life experiences so well, like sokka’s blind defensiveness when he thinks of himself as helpless, his brashness and ingenuity when he sees zuko more as a puzzle to solve than a person. that goes even people who haven't gotten that much plot attention yet - like azula wearing blue lipstick (!!!!) foaming at the mouth from the thought. OFC she would!!! shes bold, shes confident and shes here to shine + now she allows herself to have fun! do “ugly” and “imperfect” things for fun! and all the parallels between this redeemed azula and the canon zuko we know. your oc who is zuko's guardian, who he calls grandma, hasn't even shown up yet and i already love and miss her. uncle iroh!!!! zuko assuming malice from uncle iroh who only wants the best for him - but ofc he doesnt know that! but we do, and it hurtssss katara and aang!!! the bath scene with aang, zuko’s forced vulnerability, their honesty, aang’s absolute grace towards zuko. suki and the kyoshi warriors! i trust they will get their turn to kick some ignorant prince ass. and the thing that draws me the most to this genre: the exploration of trauma in its aftermath. your storytelling is wonderfully brutal here. like… you draw a white picture by filling in all its shadowy contours…. if that makes sense. all the ways zuko’s life was affected by his father add up to the shape of his hurt. him not eating fatty foods to stay fit and "bend better". recognizing azula in his own reflection instead of himself. wearing his mom’s night clothes. im going feral feral feral whew! in my heart all this would’ve been a very pretty glittery letter sent to your author p.o. box. i love your story and it lives constantly in my imagination - thank you so much for sharing it with the world!!!

ohhhmg.... thank you for this!! i sat on it for a whole minute to respond right! i'm so glad you like it!! i love that you love all these characters' new lives <3 <3

there are so many Very Careful Lines to Walk in doing an ATLA au bc the original characters and cultural stories are really so complex. and i am FAR from an expert on east asian history / cultures but here are a few sources that I found helpful / interesting:

jinian qian's writing for The Millions, especially the articles "The Moon Is Beautiful Tonight: On East Asian Narratives" and "Light in the West and Shadows in the East"

chaoyang trap, which is not at all about ancient china but about very modern chinese cultural existence, especially on the Internet / social media / fandom. I can't say this has directly provided me with a lot of relevant info but it does help me figure out attitude / approaches / how things "translate" into western contexts

and of course there are so many A:TLA blogs that really keep the analytical conversations going and make ao3 as vibrant as it is-- @atlaculture, @boybff, @volkswagonblues, @azularedemptionarcwhen, @chitsangenthusiast, @azulasnailtech, @visit-ba-sing-se, @marriedzukka, @bleekay, @ash-and-starlight, @sokkagatekeeper, @azulapropaganda, @zukkababey, @comradekatara, @ofherlionheart, @chaoticsandstorm

okay i will stop blasting this post into all of atla tumblr's notifs but the above blogs are total Gs, 10/10, would not be as deep into my MFA in a:tla without these trailblazing scholars who went before me

have a lovely vintage kermit meme, mwah

#thank you!! #asks #atla

[kwritingbooks]

co-written by me & @shroombloomm

read on wattpad or tumblr masterlist

The true meaning of bittersweet, something Harry was finally coming to understand.

AU: star-being!harry x astronomy-student!aurora

Harry’s POV 

Bittersweet. 

I never knew what bittersweet was, nor had I ever heard the word until I traveled to Earth. How could something so sweet be so bitter? When I would think about sweets, I would think about the first cupcake I had with Aurora. The thick icing was overpowering, but the taste of the soft cake underneath was just enough to even it out. 

Bitter was the black coffee I drank when I stopped by the coffee shop without Aurora one time. Because of the fact that I didn’t remember the drink I had ordered with her previously, I didn't know exactly what to put in it. So, I ordered a coffee, because that word I knew for sure was a part of it. It came black, a vast difference from the blonde beverage I was accustomed to with her. It was hot, bitter, and made the roof of my mouth have an odd taste to it. 

So when Leon and I were traveling down to Earth to say goodbye to Aurora, all I could think about were those two things together: bitterness and sweetness, a cocktail of misalignment. If you would have asked me, I would’ve eaten a million sweet cupcakes until I got sick if it meant that I never had to experience the bitter taste of that bean water again.

That I knew for sure.

But those were two odds of a spectrum, and I never quite understood how things could co-exist when on either side. Now I think I understood. 

This was what bittersweet felt like, and it was painful.

When Leon told me about his past lover he had on Earth, it made me feel like we were closer, at least given that I was still a bit cold towards him. But that didn’t take away from the fact that he had hidden this from me for so long. I’d never even seen him with another star-being on our planet. I always chalked it up to him always being too busy with missions and not having enough time for any form of relationship with others. That was what he led me to believe anyway.

But now I began to wonder if it was because nobody would ever fill the Mathilde shaped hole in his heart. 

I wondered if that was going to happen to me after tonight. 

As our bodies traveled in speed that was much faster than anything that moved on Aurora’s planet below us, I couldn’t help but somehow get lost in my thoughts. What normally would have felt like fleeting moments, then felt like days spent on Earth, lost in thought.

I thought about Leon’s Mathilde. My mind warped images in my mind of what she could have looked like. According to history books I had found in Aurora’s bookshelf, people dressed differently based on where they lived and when it happened. There were no tops like Aurora would wear with her bellybutton poking out beneath the fabric–at least not in the years that Mathilde was around.

I also began to think about personality traits she must have had. Was Leon the same Leon that I knew when they were together? It was so hard to imagine Leon going out of his way and expressing his feelings, something that apparently people in relationships did on a daily basis based on the romantic comedies Aurora would have me watch with her. I grew to really like them. 

It was just hard to see Leon playing that role of a lover who would make others laugh. He would sometimes make me laugh, but there weren’t many times I could count. Usually he was figuring out how to get on father’s best side, and the other half of the time was reaping the benefits of that.

What kind of person could bring out such a different side of him? She must have been like my Aurora. Only someone full of light can bring out the light in someone else like that, like she did for me. It was a light I didn’t even know could come out. It was pure and it made me feel light on my feet, and not in the physical way of flying or falling like I was used to.

She made my experience of life much more beautiful and well lived, and in a much shorter timeframe than I had already lived elsewhere while in this shared galaxy.

That was also why I had to see her again. Even if this would be the last time ever.

When we landed, I had to rub my face to get the dirt debris off that had flung up from the sudden wind that swept us down. We landed directly in the park across the street from Aurora’s apartment, hidden off in a thick section of trees. All the neighboring houses had their lights off and their porch lights on, while the moon was just coming up over the treelines, inviting the night in. I wasn’t sure of the exact time, but I knew that it was deep in the night at this point, Leon and I made sure of it before takeoff. Usually with each landing I would be cautious on where I landed, but given the circumstances of the situation, I was a bit messy this time I had to admit. 

I was honestly surprised that Leon went through with it, but maybe he just wasn’t in the mood to argue anymore either. Or maybe he was also being stupid. That trait could easily have been genetic apparently.

I couldn’t count the amount of days, possibly weeks, that I’d gone without seeing Aurora. I would’ve said I was excited to see her again, but I feared that this was the last memory I’d ever have in her presence. I hoped she wouldn’t be too upset; I wasn’t sure I could handle having her upset as the last visual I had to remember her with.

I needed our last memory to be a good one. For both of us.

Standing across the street, lit up by the streetlights in front of us in a yellow glow, I stared eagerly at the apartment I had grown to know over the last few months. My palms were sweating nervously as I considered how that growth would soon end.

“You ready?” Leon knocked me out of my thoughts. 

I sighed in acknowledgment.

The truth was, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t sure I would ever be truly ready. Getting to say goodbye to Aurora was a treat, but it was a death sentence wrapped up into one. Bittersweet, it was, and painfully so. 

There were so many things we never got to do together, so many memories to be made, so many things I wanted to say, but never knew how to. 

Time was so precious, and I felt like I had wasted it. There were no repairs to be made on something that could not only be undone, but even fixed at all. That was it. No redos. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I breathed out, wiping my sweaty palms onto my jeans. “Are you–are you coming with me?” 

Leon’s stern display softened, glancing towards me out of the corner of his eye. 

“Do you want me to?” 

I thought for a moment. “How much time do I have with her?” 

Leon pulled his arm out in front of him, flicking his wrist ever so slightly to adjust his sleeve and exposed the watch on his wrist. His face twisted, lips pursed. 

I didn’t even know he kept a watch on him.

“You’ve got ten minutes before father notices we are both gone. The guards will make sure of it after that.” He dropped his arm back down to his side, his sleeve falling down to hide the wretched device that had just crushed my spirits.

Ten minutes?

If that was all I had, then I wanted to spend the time alone. I didn’t want Leon to watch over me, especially since this would be a vulnerable moment for the both of us. 

“Stay here.” I breathed quickly, now knowing I was wasting my time by standing there. I took a step, swallowing the bile in my throat as I began to walk towards the apartment, but Leon reached out and took a hold of my arm before I could go any further. 

“Stay outside. I trust you, but–” Leon flickered his gaze between me and the house. “I need to watch you.” 

Staring at Leon, his eyebrows shadowed over his eyes with a knowing look. I knew what he was thinking, he didn’t have to say it. But I knew. 

“You think I’m going to run, don’t you?” 

“I know I would’ve back then. Still would, given the chance.” Leon immediately said back, under a whisper as his lip twitched. His hand fell from my arm down to his side, taking a step back. “Now go. You’re running out of time.” 

Knowing that Leon did what was right, under what we were taught to be–right–but his heart was in the midst of running away with the woman he loved. I could understand that. I would be lying if I said that it didn’t cross my mind a time or two on the way down here. It would be easy to scoop up Aurora and run far away from here, even knowing I only had a few days to survive before having to go back home. As if Leon and father wouldn’t have found me before then anyway.

It would have been worth the trouble that I’d be in if it meant that I got to stay with her longer, though. 

My mind was racing, thoughts running in and out of my mind while I approached the building. Each step up the stairs was like a hole being dug deeper into my grave, yet I was the one who kept digging. Suddenly the thought of running away didn't sound that bad afterall, knowing that I could get a head start before Leon would notice. 

I couldn’t, though, really. I knew that, too.

Standing at the door, I looked back to Leon who was standing across the way. I gave him a short nod, to which he returned, then stared at the door ahead of me. There would never be enough time that would’ve satisfied me when saying goodbye to her. If I could make it a lifelong goodbye, I would. I’d stand here until we were both gray in the hair and using walking canes to get to and from places. We would hold hands that shook with age.

With a trembling hand, I knocked on the door and took a step back. The clock was ticking, my anxiety suddenly made me feel like emptying my hollow stomach. My thoughts soon became induced with anxiety as I began to wonder something I hadn’t considered before: what if she’s not here? What if she’s at work, or at school? What if she’s with Nina? What if she’s asleep and won’t wake up in time?

There wasn’t enough time to run around looking for her, I needed her to be home and awake.

I needed her to be here with me. 

I needed my goodbye. 

I needed to tell her–

“Harry?” 

My eyes fluttered, bringing me back from my moment in a sea of scrambled thoughts. It was surreal, my once blurry vision was now coming clear, the silhouette of her became sturdy and visible, more vibrant with color. She was standing there, doe eyed, in her pajamas with a faint smile etched on her lips. 

There she was. 

My Aurora. 

“Aurora…” I choked on my breath, taking a step toward her. 

Before I could take the leisure of making the first move, she did it for me. Aurora jumped into my arms faster than the speed of light, and I nearly melted into her touch. I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around the low of her back and hold her impossibly close to me. Her scent invaded my nose, one I’d grown to like. It was the lavender vanilla scent with a hint of rose to it that I always complimented her on. 

This was where I needed to be, I couldn’t find myself to let go of her. She felt like home, but a home I felt comfort in for the first time in my two thousand years of life.

“It’s been two weeks!” Aurora croaked, pulling back from me as her hands cupped the back of my head, fingers lost into my chestnut curls. “Where have you been? Are you okay? What happened?” 

Her eyes sparkled just at the sight of me, even with her breathy words and crooked smile, I couldn’t find myself to be happy. I couldn’t find myself to be happy because the next words to come out of my mouth were going to take away the spark in her eyes, the smile on her face and the racing in her chest. 

“We…we need to talk.” I whispered lowly to her, bringing my hands up to cup the underside of her jaw as my eyes met hers. 

“Talk?” She wrapped her dainty fingers around my wrist. “Okay, we can talk. Come inside–” 

“No, I–” I looked back to Leon, which made Aurora gaze behind me as well. “I can’t. I have to be quick.” 

I watched her face fall as she noticed who it was behind me. “Harry? What’s–what’s going on? Why is your brother here?” Aurora rushed out, her hands falling to her side. “Why can’t you come inside?” She raised her hand gently to my arm, lightly motioning for me to follow after her, but I remained unmoved. It felt unnatural to fight against my instinct to go wherever she pulled me. 

But I knew I couldn’t.

I chewed the inside of my cheek, hoping that she would somehow read my mind instead of having to say it out loud. I didn’t want to say it out loud, I shouldn’t have had to. I shouldn’t have to be doing this to begin with. This should’ve never happened. 

I was careful. 

I…was…careful. 

But never was I careful enough, was I?

“I can’t come inside because–” I swallowed the swelling feeling in my throat, blinking the emotions away. “Because they know. My father, I mean, he knows. He found out…” 

Aurora took a step back, her hand falling from my touch, and she blinked hard. “What does that mean? Can’t we–just lay low? We can be more careful, right? I can admit we were being a bit sloppy with Collins, but–”

“No.” I cut her off, shaking my head. I had to take a moment as I inhaled sharply due to the ping of pain that hit my chest so brutally after that. “No, we can’t. I–he took me off the mission, Aurora…I can’t see you again…” 

A scoff with a slight chuckle left her mouth, sending a wave of confusion coursing through my body. “Is this some sort of sick joke?” She sounded upset, but more so confused. She didn’t seem to believe me fully.

Oh did I desperately wish it was a joke, though. I stood there, tears brimming my waterline as my leg started to shake, turning my head to hide my vulnerability while chewing on the inside of my cheek. Aurora’s confused demeanor soon softened when she noticed the tear dropping from my eye and racing down the side of my cheek. 

“No…” Aurora breathed. “No, they can’t take you from me like that–from us…Earth! That’s unfair! Who’s gonna save us from those light guardians? What about the mission?!” 

“Leon…” I croaked, gesturing back towards my brother. “He’s, uh—he’s taking it over. It was my father's choice. I can’t fight it. He doesn’t even know I’m here.” 

“There has to be something we can do, right? There has to be—“ Aurora’s voice crumbled. “We’ve figured a way around everything else. Why not this, too?” 

This was exactly what I was scared of. I hoped that she wouldn’t find herself a mess in front of me, just so I could remember her to be happy. But humans were never that simple, were they? But neither was I. 

“You can’t go…Harry, look at me.” She grabbed my face softly, making me look deeply at her. Tears brimmed her eyes, matching the contrast of mine as her bottom lip quivered. Redness had spread to her cheeks, and I knew it wasn’t due to the cold air this time around.

It was hard for the both of us to hide our emotions, but my hands were shaking and I couldn’t find myself to smile for her. I tried to be strong, but the wave of sadness was stronger. It was taking me under like the waves of the ocean, each gasping breath and fighting urge, it was useless. This was much bigger than me. This was a tsunami, and no amount of swimming was going to bring me back to the surface for safety.

Pressing my forehead against hers, my fingers tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and let out a slow breath. Staring into her eyes was like dipping myself into a pool of honey, her brown eyes intoxicating me and breaking me down all at once. I barely got a breath in before she pressed her mouth hard against mine, finding her hands reaching to the back of my neck. 

My hand placed itself onto her shoulder, my other arm wrapping around her waist as I kissed her back in hopes that she could eat the words I’d never wanted to say. I didn’t care if my brother was behind me, I didn’t care if he was watching. If these were my last moments with Aurora for as long as my light continued to twinkle above, I wanted to make it last—with our final kiss, even if it broke the both of us. 

“Please don’t leave me, Starboy.” Aurora whispered against my wet lips with a choked sob, shaking her head lightly. Her voice continually broke as she fought the words out of her mouth, lip quivering. “You can’t go. What will I do? Who will I talk to every day about anything on my mind? I talk to you about things I could never say aloud to Nina sometimes. You have never once judged me, Harry. Who else will treat me how you treat me?” 

Her words hurt much deeper than they had ever felt before. I squeezed onto her tighter, trying my best to hold onto reminders of what she felt like. It was all I was going to have left.

That thought broke me.

“I can never express my sorry enough, Aurora. I never wanted to hurt you. I am so sorry. So so…sorry.” My head bowed to my shoulders as I worked to steady my voice from breaking, but to no avail. Tears were dropping on the pavement below us. “Please, just listen to me. I don’t have much time, okay?” I kept her close, fighting back the urge to collapse at the overwhelming feeling of sadness. How could humans live like this? With such emotion? It was insufferable. 

I created a small distance between us, holding onto her shoulders as they shook from her tears. It hurt so much more seeing that sadness reverberate from her chest to the tears that fell steadily down her cheeks. I could feel what she felt radiate off of her and it physically hurt my body. Bruises of her sobs punched against every part of my body as I heard them.

I wanted to yell out to the gods about how unfair this was. Was I not worthy of this love? Did I not deserve to have Aurora by my side? 

How else could they do this to me?

“Being with you, in this time, has been the greatest honor, Aurora. More than any title under my father’s kingdom could ever do for me. You’ve made me feel things that I hadn’t felt in some light years. Possibly even ever–” 

“Don’t. Don’t do this.” 

“—And I adore you, with every inch of my being. For as long as I last, I will think about you and hold your memory close to me. I will never forget you, Aurora—my Aurora.” 

She yanked her body from my grasp. “This isn’t goodbye, don’t do this! I refuse this to be a goodbye.” Aurora whimpered, I could feel her shaking from suppressing the same overwhelming feelings I had. “Don’t you dare say goodbye to me, Harry! You can’t, I won’t let you!” 

“What is this, then?” I swallowed thickly, pulling her in close again. I nudged my nose against hers with an unsteady breath, our gasps of air syncing together. I knew what she wanted, but I couldn’t find myself to give it to her. 

If I could, I would. 

I’d give my Aurora anything she wanted. 

“This is…” Her hands were everywhere, cupping my face, fingers drawing down my neck then to the back of my curls. Desperate to touch me, to remember me as much as she could before I left. “See you soon.” 

I wept out. How could three little words cause this much pain in my chest? My fingers interlocked with hers, nodding my head as strings of tears fell down my cheeks. I didn’t know if I fully believed it myself, but a part of me had to cling on to that hope. There was no way everything could align so perfectly to place me right here in this very city, to just be turned away less than a year later. This had to be predestined. 

Harry and Aurora. That was who we were supposed to be. A duo. Together.

“Okay, Aurora.” I sniffled. “See you soon?” 

“Tomorrow?” She shook out with a broken smile and watery eyes. “W-Walk me to class? I’ll get us coffee.” 

I bit back a saddened smile, letting out a breathy chuckle as we mapped out our imaginary plan.“First thing in the morning. Don’t forget breakfast either.” 

We stared at each other for what seemed like eternity with a smile from ear to ear, then Aurora pulled me into another kiss, this time much softer and slower–like time ceased to exist, like it wasn’t ticking way too fast right now. Her lips tasted sweet, just like the end of that cursed word I mentioned earlier. I just wished that the aftermath wasn’t going to leave such a wretched, bitter taste in my mouth. 

“Harry.” It was my brother’s voice behind me this time. There was a softness to it that I hardly recognized, but it still sustained that usual coldness that his commands always had. 

I pulled apart from Aurora, quickly wiping my tears away with a sniffle while turning on my heel. Leon was standing behind us with his arms crossed, to which he slowly showed me the watch on his wrist and tapped it lightly. 

Had it already been ten minutes? 

“No…” Aurora shook her head, pulling herself in front of me. “Leon, please don’t—.” 

“Please don’t get involved in galactic matters, it doesn’t concern you.” Leon brushed off his cuffs softly, fixating his gaze on me in order to avoid Aurora’s. “We must go now.” His full coldness was back, like the softness was never even there.

“Don’t talk to her like that, Leon.” I growled through a huff, keeping my arm around her waist before turning towards her. “Aurora, I must—.” 

“No.” Aurora shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes with a faltering smile. “I’ll see you soon. Remember?” 

A small whimper left my lips, giving her a short nod before placing a delicate kiss onto her forehead, stroking her hair back carefully. It was so painful to see her like this, but I knew that was what we had to do, as much as it killed me to do it.

Maybe all those rom-coms we watched were true all along. To be young and in love was to be blissfully unaware and ignorant of reality. While I was not young, our love felt young. Way too young to have it end this soon. This should have just been the beginning.

But was that what this was–love? I had never said it out loud or even in my head before. From what I learned from the humans’ definition of the word, I think I understood it. This felt like something I had never experienced before. I was sure I had felt variations of it with my own family of beings and the occasional relation I would have with others, but it was still nothing compared to how humans experienced it. It was a lesson I could only ever be taught through experience, and that was exactly what happened as far as I was aware.

“See you soon, my Aurora.” I whispered under my breath, keeping my lips onto her forehead for just a few more moments before pulling from her. The departure of my mouth against her skin tingled sharply, aching for it again like a withdrawal.

I said nothing as Leon took my arm and pulled me down the small steps of her front porch. I dared not to look back, it would only make me want to change my mind. It would only make me act out of impulse, and not necessity, which was this. Leon and father made that abundantly clear with how much was riding on this and how much I screwed everything up.

But then again, I couldn’t help it. I had to see her face one last time, regardless of the emotional consequences. I looked back to see her sitting on her front porch steps with her hands in her face, her shoulders uncontrollably shaking from her sobs. Her face was buried partially into the palms of her hands and for a moment I felt my knees buckle underneath me. She was trying her best not to watch me, too, but she also couldn’t help but peek through her near-shut eyes and fingers.

I was supposed to be there for her. I was supposed to protect her. 

My Aurora was crying and all I could do was run away and watch it happen. 

Letting out a shaky breath, the pads of my fingertips caught the tears that spilled from my eyes as Leon and I continued deeper into the park away from the lights and cars. How jealous I was of the non-living objects that got to exist for as long as they wanted in Aurora’s neighborhood. They had no idea what kind of privilege they had to be so near.

Even when I ended things with Adhara, it did not hurt nearly as bad as the pain I was feeling right then. This pain was all consuming, it even made my hollow stomach twist in pain and my still-beating heart wrack around in my empty rib cage, bruising everything in sight. I felt the pain in my eyes, down to my fingers and to my toes. That was how I knew that this had to be what I thought it was–love. Bittersweet and all.

I’d give anything just to touch her again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Until the end of time. 

“Do you love her?” Leon broke the silence as we continued to walk deeper into the woods, giving me a short glance out of the corner of his eye with his nose in the air. 

There was that word again. Love. 

The word dangled in front of me as I stepped over the twigs and branches of the forest grounds. I hadn’t said that word out loud in forever, only in the privacy of my mind recently. The aching chest in my feeling could confirm it, alongside the ache in my reddened eyes from crying. It was weird to see how everything in me shifted when I was confronted with the thought with someone else. I didn’t realize how different it was to admit it aloud to someone else, especially someone like Leon.

When I spoke about love, I usually spoke about my family in an adoration type of way. I loved my family because I adored them, wanted to protect them, no matter how wrong they had done me, I still held them dear to my heart. Though if you asked me what the first thing that came to my mind when I thought about the word love, I would think about my Aurora now.

“Zeus, I think I fucked up.” I stopped in my tracks, palming my sweating eyes as my throat constricted suddenly. My words were near silent, lodged in my throat like it needed a pick ax to forge out. 

“How so?” Leon stopped ahead of me, turning to look at me with pinched brows. I was even more surprised he heard me.

“Because—.” I whispered out only slightly louder, dusting my forehead with my palm helplessly as I turned back to look at the direction we came. “Because I think I do love her, Leon. I—I love her…” I confirmed to myself, biting my quivering lip as I turned my head to meet eyes with Leon. “I love Aurora.” 

Leon’s solid features softened, parting his lips while he turned his head up to the sky. His features seemed to morph together with a variety of emotions, some of which I didn’t even recognize on his face. He let out a long sigh, letting me know he was still there even though he seemed absent. He seemed almost as lost as I did upon my realization about her.

How could I have not noticed it until now? My hands were always perspiring around Aurora, my heart rate was abnormally faster than it usually was which was a vast contrast to how it was when I was alone. 

It was because I loved Aurora. I fell in love with her in the process of accidentally getting to know her. I didn’t mean to do it, but I did, and there was no going back now.

But what was not to love about her? She knew half of everything I already knew. She had a deep-seeded love for astronomy. I was that astronomy. Her adoration was rooted in my history that I grew up with. She had this love for studying about what I was all of her life. Her mind alone was so beautiful, like a large cozy library with a fireplace tucked in it. I could pluck out conversations with her easily, and talking with her was never hard. We always had something to talk about. Her smile alone melted my heart and her touch always set my skin on fire, yet it would extinguish the burn in the same way.

She didn’t just make me feel love, she was love, in definition. I felt her wrap it around me every time I was around her. She spelled the word across my lips with each kiss, with each touch, and I didn’t realize I was falling into a pit of her until now. 

“You feel that strongly about her?” Leon questioned slowly, like he was deciphering his words as he spoke them.

I nodded my head, bowing it to the ground as I kicked pebbles at my feet. It reminded me of the moon rocks I would do the same thing with at home. Maybe I should have taken some of the Earth rocks with me so I would never forget the difference that these felt like.

“Then…stay.” Leon muttered.  

My head shot up as I did a double take, squinting my brows. “What?” 

“Just–” Leon sighed. “Just stay, okay? Here. I–and this is against everything I stand for, mind you, but…” He took another breath, taking a step towards me while putting his hand on my shoulder. “You can stay on the mission, under my supervision. Father will not know.” 

Instinctively I grabbed his wrist excitedly with wide eyes, pulling him closer to me. 

“Are you–are you serious? Don’t joke with me, Leon. Now’s not the time for one of your pranks–” 

“No, I’m not joking.” Leon said softly, grabbing both of my shoulders as he stared into my eyes with a serious manner. He moved my hands off of him, putting them to my sides to straighten up. “But Harry, I’m only doing this because–because I…wished that I got more time with Mathilde. I loved her just how you love Aurora.” 

My heart was pounding in my chest, and my first reaction was to turn around and run straight to Aurora’s, but before I could even think to pick my feet up, I wrapped Leon into a tight hug without hesitation. I could’ve cried then and there, but Leon wasn’t the emotional type and he hated hugs in general, so I wasn’t going to push my luck anymore than I already had tonight.

Leon chuckled lowly, something I hadn’t heard in a light year before he patted my back and pulled from me. 

“Wait, what about Father? How would we hide this from–” 

“Don’t think about that right now. I’ll make up an excuse for you.” Leon gave me the tiniest smile. “And I have a few ideas of who this informant or spy is, but I need to do some more digging. Just–go be with your love, brother. I’ll see you in a few days and we’ll have a more solid plan then. ” 

I bit my lip, closing my fists in excitement as I turned on my heel and took off running out of the woods. I didn’t think to say goodbye. I would see my brother soon like he said, but my time with Aurora was more precious to me right then. My feet brushed against the scattered leaves and branches on the forest floor, causing them to toss in the air as I picked up the velocity of my pace. 

C’mon human heart, don’t fail me now. At least not yet.

Breathing heavily, I jumped over a log and pushed past the treeline and into the open field. My heart was racing, I still wasn’t used to exerting my human body so heavily. Gravity felt so much different here. I would just note that that was on the bucket list of things I needed to do: go to the gym and run more, which was something that would help my body grow stronger. 

I saw Aurora’s apartment in the distance, and she was still sitting outside of her apartment with her hands still wiping away at her face. Astro had greeted her by her side, resting her sleepy head into her lap, lapping her tongue at one of her hands.

“Aurora!” I yelled loudly with cupped hands over my mouth. “I can’t do it. I can’t leave you yet!” My voice cracked as I slowed down my pace.

Her head slowly lifted, craning her head side to side to look for the person calling her name, until she locked her eyes directly onto me. Astro had even stood up, immediately wagging her tail violently. I chuckled breathlessly, taking a slow step while raising my hand up to wave at her with a crooked smile. She said nothing as she stood to her feet, looking as though she saw a ghost right before her. She had an uneasy expression on her face, like she couldn’t trust me already being back so soon.

And when she knew it was me, at the exact same moment, we both ran towards each other faster than we ever had before. I hadn’t run this fast since I’d seen the light guardian that one day. My lungs were burning, sweat building up on my forehead as I gained speed.

She seemed just as glad as me to have another look at one another, even if she didn’t know if it was a long-term look or not. She didn’t seem to care much at all. One more time was enough, regardless of timeframe.

“Harry!” She called out as winded as me, her legs taking her as fast as she could go. 

Astro ran alongside her, our bodies all soon to collide into each other. Even with the narrowing space between us, our speeds only dimmed slightly. When our bodies bridged the gap, it almost knocked the wind out of me. My arms tightening around her felt so surreal, somehow deeper than the one we had just shared at our last departure. This one wasn’t overshadowed by the ever growing feeling of soon-to-be loneliness that I readied myself for. It wasn’t goodbye anymore. It really was a “see you later.” 

“I’m staying.” I breathed out into her shoulder in desperate relief. “I can’t leave you yet. Leon knew it, too.” I felt tears brim against my eyes again, ready to flow past my cheeks. My nose tingled from the sensation. “I…” My words started to trail off, lumping together and coming out garbled when I tried to finish it first. I had so much more I wanted to say, so why was it so hard? I knew what it was that needed to come out.

Her forehead wrinkles became prominent as she furrowed her brows. I couldn’t help but smile even more at the doe-eyed look she had on her face. Her eyes were shining against the moonlight, and it almost felt like the moon was doing it just for me–for her. The moon wanted me to see her in the best light possible to help me find the words that desperately ached to flow out.

“I…I may not know everything about humans, but I think–” I shook my head, getting flustered at my choice of words. “No–I know…I know that I love you, Aurora. There is no other way to explain this…this feeling that is happening right now to me. It happens a lot actually. I never understood it, but I…I think I know now. It’s love.” 

My eyes had found themselves staring at her feet to avoid her reaction. I was sweating, but it wasn't from running moments ago. I was nervous again, or anxious as Aurora would call it. I rubbed my palms against my pants, still looking at her feet that were adorned with her worn houseshoes. The ones that I tried on because of how comfortable and fluffy they looked, but then soon realized that shoe sizes were a thing and often not shareable.

I mustered up the courage after a couple moments to look back at her. She was avoiding my eyes too, but she had a soft smile on her face. Her bottom lip was even tucked into her teeth, fighting away an even bigger smile. That seemed like a good sign.

When she looked at me, my heart fluttered. I didn’t look away that time, and neither did she. I was too invested in her response, desperate to hear that she felt the same way. There was no way I could feel this strongly and she didn’t feel the same. I refused to believe it.

“I love you, too, Harry.” She wrapped her arms around my waist, the old teardrops that were dried on her cheeks with caked on mascara more obvious than ever as I continued to look deeply at her. 

My hand reached up to her face, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead, and then soon my fingers began to trail down softly from her forehead down to her cheek. Her skin felt soft and cared for. I wanted to relish in it further, feel her even more. To remind myself that she was real and she was right here with me.

I then cupped both of my hands around her face as I pulled her in for a kiss. A small gasp left Aurora’s lips out of surprise. Maybe she was surprised I took the initiative, or maybe she was just on high alert like I was from all the emotions we had been through tonight. I didn’t care either way. As long as she was in my arms with her lips against mine, I couldn’t care about anything else. 

She was my mission to keep.

I felt a sudden wetness against my cheeks again as I continued to kiss her softly, and I pulled away out of confusion. Was I crying again? Or was she? Sweating?  Was it raining?

“Aurora?” I whispered out, crooking my head to the side as I saw fresh tears now surface. “Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry…” I took a step back, unsure where I failed. How could I have messed up so soon?

She shook her head frantically, smiling again. Somehow she was smiling while crying. My, how I would never really understand humans. “No–no. I’m just really happy, I promise. C’mere.” She motioned her hands for me to come back closer again, and I followed instinctively. I still felt unsure about the situation, but her smile was hard to ignore. She wouldn’t lie to me, she must have meant it.

She squeezed against me harder into a hug, dampening my shirt from the previous spill of tears and then pulled away from me to look me in the eye. “Are you here for good? Or one more day? How long?” She sounded desperate for answers, scared that she would have to be let down, waiting to be stricken with grief once again.

“I’m not sure how long, but I’m able to stay on the mission. Under Leon. Secretly.” My smile was growing wider by the second as I spoke. Saying it out loud made it feel that much more surreal. Even on Earth I felt like I was floating higher than I had ever floated before. I didn’t even need to be in my star form either.

Without another word, she pulled herself into my chest again. Her breaths were felt through the fabric of my shirt as she breathed them out, and it felt like she was breathing life back into me. Color was being brought back to my cheeks with each second that passed in her arms. I had never felt so human in my life.

I heard the faint rustling of wind blowing through the trees around us mixed in with the sounds of our slowing breaths as we stood there in front of her door, arms wrapped tightly around each other. Neither said anything, we just stood there in a comfortable silence. The chilliness of the air was so much easier to ignore now that Aurora was at the forefront of my mind–she was all that was on my mind. The memories of strands of her hair shining against the sunlight, the scrunching of her nose right before she laughed, and the way she would purse her lips when deep in thought, all those images found itself in every crevice of my brain. She was all I could think about, nothing could distract me from her. She was my everything.

It felt like I had forever with her now, even though I knew that that wasn’t the whole truth. Even though I was back on the mission, it didn’t mean that meant forever still, and I knew that. Father could find out and have me banished in a cell, we could lose the war, and it could be over just like that. But, I now had longer than I thought before we landed, and that was the most important part. It was forever as far as I was concerned now.

“Harry?” Aurora’s soft voice was muffled against my chest, and she broke away to look me in the eye, still so close that I could see every detail in her face. “Can we go inside? It’s cold.” 

She had a smile so innocent on her face that I wanted to kiss it, feel that smile even closer on me. The darkness couldn’t even hide the smallest of dimples right above her top lip.

I nodded my head. “Of course, let’s go.”

She held on to my hand loosely, leading me inside through the door. Astro was still wagging her tail as she raced in after us. I didn’t realize something non-human could seem to miss me as well. And come to think of it, I think I missed that furry creature just as much, too.

“Hi, Astro.” I knelt down gently to pat her on her head and she lept towards me, tongue out and ready to slobber all over me. Aurora would always call that her liquid kisses, but that never sounded appetizing to me. 

I got back up.

“Do you need anything? Water? Tea? Snack?” She was rustling through her cabinets with only the stove light on to illuminate her face. I could see the faint puffiness that still surrounded her eyes from all the crying we had done. A rim of red and pink was slowly fading away, but it still lingered enough to notice it. I wondered what the state of my human body looked like. I had never cried like that before. Maybe I looked just the same as her.

It was an experience I hoped I would never have to go through again. Hopefully I would have time for a better plan next time. I really couldn’t mess anything up. At all. Not even a little.

“No.” I breathlessly laughed. She was probably too out of it to remember that I didn’t actually eat or drink. Or at least, I didn’t need to. “I’m okay right now. Are you tired? It must be late.” I searched around the room looking for any clock in sight. Finally I met my gaze to the glowing digits reading out that it was just past one in the morning.

She saw me glance towards the stove clock and looked herself.

“I’m sorry.” I remarked quietly, rubbing at my arm. I felt bad that I had woken her up just for all of this. “I hope you’re not upset.”

She scoffed, and my eyes widened, unsure why she made that noise. She laughed again. 

“No, Harry. I couldn’t be mad. I was just glad to see you.” Her smile faded and her attention from me was gone as she quieted her voice. “I thought you were gone for good. Dead, maybe.”

I bit at my lip. “I know and I am sorry. It wasn’t my fault–father found out and banned me from coming back. I didn’t leave my room that entire time…I felt…” I took a deep breath as I recalled the horrible time I spent back home. I had never experienced anything like it before. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. “I was lost. Nothing felt…right, I suppose. I felt like I wasn’t home, even though technically I was.”

You are my home, Aurora, is what I wanted to say. It’s always been you I needed.

“Do you feel at home now?” 

I looked at her and nodded my head. “Yeah, I do.”

a/n: We have some exciting news Starboy readers! @shroombloomm and I want to create a Starboy groupchat! It’ll give readers a firsthand look at sneakpeeks and also just discussions in general (although it doesn’t always have to be Starboy related lol!) If you’re interested in joining, please let Sunny or I know. We’ll be rolling it out likely within the week. Catch us also on Twitter @kwritingbooks and @shroomiebloomm

#harry styles au #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles wattpad #harry styles fic rec #harry styles masterlist #harry styles book #harry styles fluff #soft!harry #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #harry styles x yn #harry styles #harry edwards styles #harry styles fic rec 2023 #harry styles fic rec masterlist #fic rec #fluffy harry styles fic #fluffy harry styles one shot #angst harry styles one shot #harry styles writer #hs fic rec #hs fic #zayn malik #niall horan #1d #one direction #1d fic

[bicaptkirk]

So I’ve been thinking about Max’s speech in the attic to lure Vecna in the S4 finale in regards to Billy and it got me thinking. When Will was released from the Mind Flayer at the end of S2, we can assume it hurt Vecna/MF pretty bad and it needed time to heal. What if during that healing, Vecna/MF was looking for a better host and what better host than someone completely different than the first one. While Will might’ve had a connection to the Upside Down and an easy target, he was a kid, small and weak physically. But, most importantly, he had people who cared about him and wanted to save him from this thing. For Vecna/MF to succeed this time, he needed a different host. What if Max’s “prayers” drew the MF to the perfect host.

“I thought of what you said. About how I wanted my brother to die. I thought you were just trying to upset me. To anger me. But you weren’t, were you? You were just telling the truth. Billy, he made my life a living hell. Every chance he got. So, sometimes…when I would lie in bed at night, I would…I would pray…I would pray something bad would happen to him. Something awful. I know that he drove too fast, so I would imagine him crashing. Dying in that stupid car. I just…I wanted him out of my life. Forever. I wanted him to disappear.”

Think about it, the method was eerily similar to how Max described one of her “prayers”. Something hit Billy’s car to make him crash before he was dragged down and flayed. And the most important part - to MF - was that Billy had no one close enough to him to notice a change. Will had a mom, brother, and friends who wanted him back, to save him. Billy had a sister who “prayed” he would disappear, was new to the town with no real friends, had an abusive dad with no other “good” parental figure. Billy was alone, he was physically stronger than Will - a better host that way- and also so easier for the MF to manipulate and keep him suppressed because Billy was probably already used to that.

“The day he died…I think that’s why I just stood there. Watched. Not because I was scared or…weak. But because…I didn’t know he deserved to be saved. And I’ve tried to forgive myself. I’ve tried, but…I can’t.”

When Max talks about the day Billy died, I think her saying she wasn’t “scared” or “weak” standing there has more to do with her seeing her “prayers” come true. Like she said she would imagine him dying or disappearing in different ways and in this instance she is seeing that happen right in front of her. And when the death finally comes is it because she willed it to happen or because it was supposed to? In her mind, does Billy dying like this justify him “deserving to die” because of her darkest desire to be rid of him?

It probably should’ve with the way the speech was going, but if she wanted him gone that bad and he was making her life living hell, then why does she feel guilty and begs for the same end as him? I think through her grieving process she realized that just because Billy was gone, it didn’t automatically make her life better. Some could argue it made it worse. Now she has a dead brother, a mom struggling to make ends meet, moving again after they moved from Cali, the only positive might be that Neil is gone too, but Billy changed her life completely again. So maybe she didn’t think the Billy she knew could be saved, but I think she realized that with him gone, it didn’t give her back the things she wanted or had before and that’s why she can’t forgive herself because she doesn’t know what would’ve happened if she hadn’t wished for him to disappear.

#billy hargrove #max mayfield #stranger things #the thing ive noticed with the show is that the script/plan doesnt always translate the same on screen #i always felt there had to be more to this than just bashing billy but idk its just my take on it #marija.txt #enjoy my ramblings yall! #billy and max

[heniareth]

Astala is a warrior, but i think you've mentioned your Adaia being a rogue, yes?

In a happier au where Adaia never died, do you think Astala would've still ended up a warrior in the end, or would the rogue training eventually work out for her if she didn't lose her teacher so young? Or of course the middle ground of ambush berserker is always on the table

Ah, a question for the ages. I’m still tempted sometimes to have Adaia come back to life (or be revealed to never have been dead) in my story, but her death is so imapctful, I don’t know if that would cheapen it. But I wish she was there. Thank you for the question!! This is very fun to contemplate >:)

I don’t think Astala would ever have become a rogue, no. She might’ve acquired more finesse, might’ve been better at stealthing or lying or made a habit out of running over rooftops, but she would’ve stayed a warrior. A better one, probably, but that goes without saying. She doesn’t lack dexterity by any means. It’s a personality thing (it also doesn’t help that she’s tall and lanky and will be lugging around a significant amount of body mass once the Joining and the three meals a day really kick in). She doesn’t like dancing around conflicts, and instead would much rather hit them head-on if there’s something to be hit. If not, then it’s verbal sparring, and there she follows the same principle.

In game, rogues rely as much on their dexterity as on their cunning to get the job done. I imagine cunning is a mix of being good at observing the fight and able to respond and adapt to it quickly. Astala is not good at that; she is much more comfortable when she gets to dictate the rhythm of the fight, when she can back somebody into a corner or knock them off their feet with a well-aimed blow. Having control over the fight in this way makes her feel safer than being on the defensive, and she doesn’t quite realize that there’s a third option which is to answer your opponent’s hits in such a way that you turn their actions against them. She’d struggle if she ever tried to do judo. She’d have much more fun in boxing.

I think my Adaia was kind of hoping Astala would get more into the rogue stuff later on, although I do think that, had Adaia survived, she’d have been more than happy with Astala being her warrior self and also might’ve found a very interested student in Shianni. So it would’ve been fine. Things as they are, it did bug little Astala that she and her mom were different in this (and, since she had no aunts or uncles around who might’ve had a temperament similar to hers, she often wondered why she was so different). It was fine enough until Adaia disappeared. After that, everything that made her different from her mom was terrible because she missed her, while everything that made her like her mom was scary because it meant she’d end up like her too.

So yeah. Astala would’ve stayed a warrior. Adaia would’ve managed to teach her to fight smarter, that much is certain. But apart from that, I think Adaia would also have found somebody who actually knew how to wield, idk, a sword and a shield and sent Astala to train with them. That way Astala could’ve shield bashed everybody to her heart’s content (in my first playthrough Astala’s proto-version actually did use a sword and shield).

Also, now you’ve made me think about the incredible duo that older Adaia and grown Astala would’ve been. Excuse me for just one second.

[ID: A black and white drawing of two elven women. The taller and younger woman is standing behind the older and smaller. She is looking angrily at the viewer and drawing a sword from her back with her right hand. In her left she holds a shield. The smaller and older woman is calmly pulling her sleeves up and holds a long knife in her left hand.]

(Someone's getting shanked!! :D)

Also, I'm thinking, what would Novhen's life have been like with Adaia around? Apart from a substantial lack of trauma, that is U_U'

#astala tabris #adaia tabris #dao #dragon age #cw: knife

[yumemino]

The Color of Roses and Blood (Mikaela x Aiko)

　　“I’ve been wondering, why aren’t your eyes blue anymore?”

         Mikaela turned to Aiko’s direction and met her gaze, but rapidly looked back ahead. He knew she probably didn’t know answering this question was like admitting to a shameful weakness. And because it was so intertwined with her, he decided to tell her.

         “It’s because I drank your blood.”

         Whatever she had been expecting him to say, it hadn’t been that. Though she did notice it was right around that time, when she let him drink from her, she noticed something about him had changed.

         At their initial meeting, she thought he was her age and possibly a girl at first glance. But the more she looked at him the more she saw his features are still round and somewhat child-like—he looked about 15 or 16 years old. She then thought about how vampires are immortal and he could have been this way for about 100 years for all she knew. Yet, something about this vampire was different from the other ones she encountered. It didn’t take long for her to realize the distinction had been his eyes were sky blue instead of crimson.

         “Your eyes are no longer blue because you drank my blood...Okay, but why did that specifically change the color of your eyes? Does drinking from different prey for vampires effect their eye color?” Aiko asked. But this possibility was so bizarre to her, of all her life studying vampires and how to kill them, she never heard or read anything like that.

         “No. I was an incomplete vampire before I drank from you. I never tasted human blood until yours which was why I still carried certain human traits, such as my original eye color. But now I’m a complete vampire they’ll stay red.” Mikaela answered.

         For Aiko, it almost felt odd to hear this boy talk about being human once, even though all vampires were originally human. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that. Especially when one got into the habit of thinking of vampires as the predator of her kind.

         “Huh... I didn’t know a concept like “incomplete vampire” even existed. Who would’ve figured? So then, you were aging before you met me. You must be young. How old are you?”

         “I’m 16.”

         Suddenly, a sensation of sorrow washed through Aiko’s body when she heard that. She had been right to guess he was still in his mid-teens. Despite she herself was only two years older than him, something about imagining a boy who will eventually live long enough to be an old man still trapped in a 16-year old’s body made her sad. Or was he lucky? Because he was youthful forever?

         Aiko felt somewhat reluctant to say it, but decided she wanted to, regardless. This boy must know how she felt about him since they decided to stay together with no plans of returning to their respective societies. They were far from anyone who’d judge them or misunderstand what they shared.    

         “It doesn’t make a difference in that...your eyes are beautiful. Whether they’re the color of the sky or the ocean. Or the color of roses and blood.”

#seraph of the end #owari no seraph #終わりのセラフ #mikaela hyakuya #aiko aihara #aimika #mikaiko #mikaela x aiko #🌸🌸🌸

[chubby-aphrodite]

I think in all my time on tumblr this is first time I’ve posted a pic of my dad?

Anyway. My dad died on 9/11. He was an IT guy for Cantor-Fitzgerald. I grew up constantly hearing about how I looked and sometimes acted just like him, but I only really got it a couple months ago when I looked in the mirror with my hair pulled back and went “Oh fuck I see it now.”

It’s… been hard. Growing up without one of your parents and then the other still reeling from the trauma of losing her true love and sorta fucking you up in the process? Hard. I’m 21 now, legally old enough to drink in the United States.

In hindsight, all the constant faux-apologies from people I barely knew about my dad dying in a national tragedy was fairly embittering. It was never really about me or my family when they brought it up, it was always either hollow apologies or where they were or what they were doing when it happened. I was barely three months old and didn’t even grasp that my life was different before then. But then for the rest of my goddamn life, I always had to be subjected to it. Over and over.

As a little kid, and even now sometimes, I could be… overly empathetic. The way I always tried to relate to some’s hardships was imagining myself in their place, and think about what it would be like.

Almost every year in elementary and middle school, we would be made to watch a documentary on it. So, me being that kind of empathetic little kid, imagining myself being there, and then connecting that Oh, that’s what actually physically happened to my dad, that’s why he’s dead was… overwhelming, to say the least.

It got both worse and better as I got older. Everyone started realizing hey, let’s maybe not retraumatize this kid again and started letting me stay home from school on that day, no questions asked.

I also started actually understanding the repercussions of everything as I got older. The jingoism, the ultranationalism, the islamophobia. I think for a few years in my teens I sort of repressed my own feelings about it and tried to act as though I wasn’t someone personally affected by it, and therefore only focused on the effects it had on literally everything else. But, now, I realize there’s… not really much I as one person can do about all that, other than try to spread word about aligning yourself against them. So I think that’s part of why everything’s hit me so hard lately, I’m just finally actually able to process my emotions like a goddamn adult.

I don’t really know what else to say, so I guess I’ll introduce my dad. His name was John. He liked computer games and Dungeons and Dragons growing up, and even founded the local high school’s DnD club while he attended. He made snarky comments and jokes about things a lot. He once went outside in the snow wearing only a bathrobe to grill himself a burger. He fell completely head over heels for my mom after she chugged a beer in one go and then belched it out. He loved my mom, my sister, and me very much.

I’ve been thinking of cutting my hair short lately. One of the pros I’ve been thinking about is giving all the people who say I look like him a heart attack. Because I think that’d be really funny, and he probably would’ve thought it was funny, too.

So. Yeah.

#long post #okay to reblog

[kulemii]

can you do ALL the OC asks for kenjiro hara. If you wanna !

most certainly pal! sorry it took me forever- i suddenly forgot everything i ever knew about my own oc and then life happened and then i forgot how to answer questions and th-

art by @cookiescr

How would your character react to one of the canonical protagonists stepping in to protect them? It depends on the type of protection they offered him. He’s the type of person to dedicate his everything to someone when he’s grateful to someone. So, if that protagonist has saved his life, he’s going to show his gratitude in some…grand way or offer his assistance at any time for the remainder of the life that they just paid him. However, if it was just back up in a fight, I think it would heavily depend on who the canonical protag is- Kenji might be a little too prideful to accept help sometimes. Not all the time though. Maybe if it were someone he would feel threatened by, I could imagine him being a little annoyed and muttering something about “could’ve handled it muhself, but thanks,” - however, if the help came from none other than Goro Majima, hell would freeze over before a thanks would leave his mouth. If Hiro helped, that's a completely different story. He’d be singing his praises lol– kissass

How does your character react when they see a fight starting in the street? Do they intervene? Cheer on the side? Join in? If the brawl suddenly happens in his path (so it’s like, in his way) but has nothing to do with him or the people he cares about, he’d more than likely just mutter out a “tsk, what a pain…” and brush through the crowd to keep on to do what he’s gotta do. But, if he’s got time and it looks like it might be a good one, he’d light a cigarette, place a mental bet and watch it go down. 

Does your character fight? Under what circumstances? What sort of fighting style do they use? Kenjiro absolutely fights! It used to be under any circumstance. Disrupt the peace at his club, he’ll fight you. Bother his boss, he’ll fight you. Piss him off, he’ll fight you. Look at his boss’ foreign wife funny, he will wanna fight you but she wont let him but Godddd did he wanna fight you. He’s much better now - he used to be such a firecracker. He would’ve fought at the drop of a hat. He’s learned to weigh his options. So, he’s learned to strengthen his glare so that he doesn’t necessarily need to throw his fists. He’ll still fight though. He fights with his fists. He prefers his fists because they never run out of ammo- however, Itou training teaches their men to learn how to use any and everything as a weapon. And I do mean everything.

Could your character win a fight against any of the canonical protagonists? Which one(s)? LMAO, yeah! Kenji would decimate Shinada, Tanimura, Akiyama, Yagami. He’d so lose against Saejima (respecc). Kiryu is up for debate because of his stupid plot armor but I’d like to say that they’d have a close fight! (I want him to beat Kiryu up so badly, i’m sorry) In the fic that he lives in, Kenji fights Majima on multiple occasions and it’s been back and forth wins, losses and ties.

If your character got to be a protagonist or main character in a canonical game, what city would the story be set in? We don’t have any games with a Kyoto map, aside from Ishin? That’s pretty much where Kenji thrives lol but other than that mmm, I guess I’d say Sotenbori since it’s still Kansai.

If your character got to be a protagonist or main character in a canonical game, when would the story be set? Yakuza 0 & Kiwami 1, I think.

What would your character be like if they appeared in Ishin (or Kenzan)? I haven’t played yet- can’t say.

What would your character be like if they appeared in Dead Souls, or a Dead Souls spinoff? Also haven’t played yet so I can’t really say, but it’s zombies, yeah? I’d say… guy who’s way too eager to be killin’ them zom’s and gets eated prolly. 

If your character’s only canonical role was to appear in one substory, what would that substory be? Dude feels really inadequate about his life decisions and doesn’t think that the man that took him in would be proud of the decisions he made with the family business if he could see him now. The protagonist (I got Kiryu in mind for some reason) feels a sense of kinship with the guy and assumes the guy's dad is dead and gives him life advice and how to deal with grieving a loved one and tells him that he’s probably doing a great job.

Previous question, but make the substory wackier !!! The guy is yakuza. The man is his patriarch, who isn’t dead, but in jail and the guy had ruined the family’s legacy and he came to Kiryu for advice because he knows that he’s famous for ruining the Tojo Clan’s legacy :) (who got beef? i’m lookin for somethin to eat)

What’s your character’s favourite canonical restaurant? Which canonical restaurant do they eat at most often? Which canonical restaurant is their least favourite? Kenji- my guy- he loves sushi, but he saves that for when he’s indulging someone. His favorite thing is ramen! Imma go with Kinryu Ramen! He has ramen shops near his apartment but when Arika invited him to this one he hasn’t been the same since.

What is your character most likely to purchase at the pawn shop? what are they most likely to pawn off? Now that he’s a lil bougie I don’t see him spending much money in a pawn shop unless it’s rare weapons. However, I could see him sending randoms to pawn off some valuables he’s… stumbled upon and distributing their earnings as a percentage. but then again, not really because he knows fences personally that might offer him more. :) he’s a shady lad!

What sort of canon gear would your character equip? One of those military grade bullet proof vests for sure because Kenji knows a mf that’s a little tooooo trigger happy and it makes him paranoid. lol

What does/would your character like to do on a night out in Kamurocho? Oh, people watch for sure! Network for business. If he does visit clubs, it’s usually to do his homework on them- sure, he’ll try to have some fun too but he’s just trying to see what people get up to let loose. He doesn’t usually find personal enjoyment from that kind of stuff anymore though. He’s usually thinking about the next step. If he’s just wandering around town, he might be thinking about expansion. If he sees families he doesn’t recognize, he might start thinking about plants and then how he could bring it up to Hiro. Unless he was with someone and they were making him have fun with them, he’s just… thinking about Itou.

Your character finds themselves snowed in at the mountain village from y5. What do they do? “How the hell did I get to a mountain village?!” He’s not built for snow or being stuck in a single place against his will (snow be damned) for too long– he’d get antsy. So antsy. He’d rather shovel the snow away with his bare hands than get stuck. He’d be so annoying. (I would toss him out in the cold, personally.)

Would your character sing karaoke? If they had to sing one of the canonical karaoke songs, which would they choose? Oh, Kenji loves karaoke! He gets so into it– but, only in his car or at The Place. In any other circumstance, he will pass the mic so fast. Canonically speaking, ‘Judgment' is one of his favorite songs!

Would your character be good at disco dancing? Has to be! He runs a discotheque after all <3 His hips make people fall in love. True story.

Which canon character would/does your character get along best with? Why? Most of the hostesses and anyone that hates Majima. Lmao, totally kidding! By default, I feel like I have to say Saejima but that’s because Saejima can manage to get along with just about anybody. Other than that, I’m not sure!! This is a good question though, really good! There’s just no one else in canon that Kenji interacts with in the project- overall eh, idk.. I’ll have to come back to that! Thanks for the opportunity!

Which canon character is/would be your character’s worst enemy? Sagawa and Shimano– you didn’t ask why but I’ll still answer, their fucking with Majima bled into Itou family business and it became his responsibility to deal with. Easily a big part of why he doesn’t like Majima. He doesn’t like how Majima dealt with the situation and blames him for the bloodshed. 

What random bit-character would your character be buds with? No one comes to mind because I seem to have forgotten everyone but I will say this: Although Kenji puts up a really tough front, this mf has mommy and daddy issues- any character that shows him some sort of maternal or paternal love, he will latch onto and pretend it’s not happening. 

Your character sees Majima being mean to Nishida. What would they do? It’s a reason to argue and fight with Majima- he’s absolutely gonna defend Nishino. (not a typo)

What’s the most important canonical event your character witnesses/is involved with? The purchase of The Empty Lot- I say no more.

What sort of weird stuff you pick up off the ground is your character most excited to find? The only thing I see him picking up off the ground is money if I’m honest. Unless he just beat someone’s ass and they dropped a gnarly weapon. Then, that.

What would happen if your character met ono michio? Freeze. “...the hell’s that thing?” Then he walks off in the opposite direction. (Secretly mildly sketched out by mascots- he knows it's just a dude in a costume. He still hates it. Ever since he was a kid. Won't ever tell a soul that though.)

ASK GAME

#hara kenjiro #kenjiro hara #kenji hara #sins of the father #THANKS FOR THE ASK!!!! #kulemiisplayhouse

[ariesm00ns]

The Honey and the Blindness

The reality settles in, and then settles in again, and again. Like falling in a dream and waking up, your organs lurching back into place. The coldness where they had been. It’s duller now, but aches so that I can’t sleep on it. 

At night, when it comes down to it, I lie in the net of my delusion, and tell myself it’s only temporary. I allow myself the fantasy, the fight, the resolution, and wonder why my waking seems so painful. Nights pass with cold comfort, mornings are stillborn. 

Sometimes I see life through little holes in my veil. A wind blows through it. And I do not wish he was there until much later, when I face the twin mountains from my balcony and even the touch of the wind overwhelms me. When I can tangibly feel the lack in my arms. I wait for him, but tell myself surely I’ll heal and forget before what I’m waiting for comes to pass. 

What is there to wait for? It amazes me what my body chooses to forgive. Chooses not to see. There were tears caught in my throat for weeks, the only true happiness a willful ignorance. Peace was the stillness listening to his heartbeat, where I couldn’t see his eyes. I was a fly stuck in a honey trap and knowing the end, now unable to free its legs.

I miss the honey and the blindness. But I know I’ll never fall for the trick again, and that makes me sad, in a way. The next time I am unfaithful to myself, it won’t be because I don’t know better. 

I’ve taped a photo of myself as a child onto my mirror in my bedroom. It is meant to make me treat myself with more compassion, but when I look at that little girl I can’t connect to her. I’ve never met her, she could be anyone. 

The part of me that misses him betrays me when I’ve finally fallen asleep. I would’ve forgotten his face by now if he wasn’t around every corner of my dreams. And in contrast, so absent from my reality. There is almost no proof that it ever even happened. Sometimes I tell myself it didn’t. Keep the lessons, leave the dinners and the hand resting on your throat. 

If someone were to ask me if I missed him, I would say, “Yes and no.”

I miss making dinner with him. Something different every night, but the same every week. I miss matching my breaths to his as we fell asleep. I miss defending religion to him.

And, I think he made me feel safe during a time when I was very anxious. In some ways, the pining of my bones is just my body’s physiological response to the relief he gave me last summer. So, yes, I miss him. The proximity. 

But I always wondered what it was he saw when he looked at me. I started to watch myself as closely as I imagined he was, looking for any flaw, any excuse that someday just wasn’t going to slip through the cracks anymore. The camel’s back would break. Nothing I could do was enough, though I would’ve done anything he asked to make him happy with me. If he couldn’t love me, he could associate me with happiness, right? He could drool when I rang the bell? 

The reality was, is, that there was no incentive I could’ve offered him that he would’ve taken. I felt like a performer, who was doing a shit job. I wasn’t a performer though - I was his surrogate, sometimes faceless but sometimes a woman he used to know. I was his guilt. I am his guilt, even now, a sin he can’t face and no longer knows. 

It was shocking when I first realized I didn’t know him either. In a way, I am no better. I guess he was my surrogate, for the man I imagined him to be. Someone I convinced myself was thoughtful. Someone who could fall in love with me any day now. How is it that I miss both of them; the would-be and the is-now? 

What is left when I finally subtract them both - grow calluses over any tender spot? To some extent, I have done that. He did it much sooner. I knew he would beat me.