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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 months

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TOP 35 BOOKMARKS of 2023

See also:

Top 20 Bookmarks of 2018

Top 25 Bookmarks of 2019

Top 30 Bookmarks of 2020

Top 25 Bookmarks of 2021

Top 20 Bookmarks of 2022

Happy New Year’s Eve everyone! It’s time for my roundup of fics that I’ve read over the past year!

I haven’t read as many fics as I wish I did this year, mainly due to me slowly getting back into new routines that afford me the time TO do my reading (and because I read more longer Johnlock fics too)! Plus, a lot of my bookmarks this year were for other fandoms when I got the urge to enter into those worlds again. Since I don’t have a lot of Johnlock bookmarks, I’m going to post all of the Johnlock fics I’ve read this year, and then give you guys a glimpse into the other fandoms I enjoyed and bookmarked as well! There are 3 additional fandoms for y'all to enjoy!

I got really into Loki Season 2 and needed more, so most of my bookmarks this year were for Loki, and I had to limit how many fics I suggested here mostly to pad out the rest of this list to give us a nice number! I've chosen mostly the fics I've re-read a LOT, but other than that, this list is pretty much all the fics I’ve bookmarked this year from Sherlock, Good Omens, Moon Knight, and Loki!

I hope you guys enjoy the list and will give all of them a chance! I am certain y'all will love them as much as I do! I'll get back to requested lists next week :) Have a wonderful new year, and here's to another year of fantastic reads!

ALL JOHNLOCK BOOKMARKS [11]

Bond, Sherlock Bond! by macgyvershe (T, 631 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Kissing, Couch Cuddles, Sexy Talk with No Explicit Sex, Bond Night, Established Relationship) – John is doing a Bond-a-thon. Sherlock is ready for a night of movies and munchies. Washed down with Devil Mountain coffee. Eventually everything comes together in the best of ways.

changing tides by simplyclockwork (M, 5,983 w., 1 Ch. || Substance Use, Drug Relapse, High Sherlock, Sherlock Falls Down Stairs / Injury, Caring John, Drugs, Oblivious John, Hurt/Comfort, Angst With Happy Ending, Acceptance, Pre-Relationship, Addiction, Starting Over, Self-Destructive Behaviour, Drugged Hallucinations, Forehead Touching, Sherlock POV) – If Sherlock were to stop to think about it, he might wonder if he’s simply lonely. He doesn’t stop to think about it.

The Skin Over My Heart by standbygo (E, 8,849 w., 1 Ch. || Post-Hiatus, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, Dog Tags, Military, Homophobia, Gay Bashing, POV First Person Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Declarations of Love, Undercover, Haircuts, Flashbacks, Touching, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Metaphors, Introspection, Hand Jobs, On the Couch, John’s Past, Angst with Happy Ending, Fic For Me) – Sherlock and John are still trying to adjust to Sherlock's return from his hiatus when John's friend Bill Murray brings them a case. Someone is targeting the LGBTQA+ members of Bill's unit. John and Sherlock go undercover at the unit, but when they end up having to flirt to flush out the suspect, Sherlock realizes he's in over his head.

A Comprehensive Taxonomy of Tobacco-Ash by Silvergirl (E, 11,475 w., 2 Ch. || No TRF AU || Cranky Sherlock, Alternating POVs, Self-Esteem Issues, Jealous John, Pining John, Confessions, First Kiss, Frottage, Bed Sharing, Sensuality, Cuddling, Touching) – A handsome academic approaches Sherlock about publishing his magnum opus on tobacco-ash in a prestigious scientific journal. Sherlock is quite flattered and flustered, and John’s nose is out of joint.In this little AU there is no Fall and no Mary. Instead, there is humor and smut. Truly a disproportionate amount of smut.

Both Sides Now by Silvergirl (M, 14,724 w., 5 Ch. || Post-TEH / Reunion Fix-It, Bed Sharing, First Kiss / Time, Undercover John, Couple for a Case, Assassin Mary, Big Brother Mycroft, Norfolk Coast, Angry John, First Kiss, Worried Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Alternating POV, Infidelity, Meddling Mycroft, Emotional Love Making, Matchmaker Mycroft) – Sherlock, undercover on the Norfolk coast, texts that he needs help; John is still seething after Sherlock’s gambit in the train car, and he refuses. When Sherlock goes missing, Mycroft sends John in to pose as Sherlock’s bit on the side.

Winter’s Storm by LoloLolly (M, 51,812 w., 11 Ch. || Canon Compliant Through TFP/S4 Is Canon, Alternating POV, Established / New Relationship, Parentlock with Rosie, Explicit Torture, Mentions of Sherlock’s PTSD, Mentions of Human Trafficking, References to Child Abuse, Violence, Kidnapping/Torture, Captivity, Angst with Happy Ending, Fluff, Case Fic, BAMF / Soldier John, Sherlock Whump, Mycroft and John Work Together, Marriage Proposal, Autistic Sherlock, Lestrade Finds Out, Polyglot Sherlock, Aftermath of Serbia) – Sherlock had buried the past. Shut Serbia away in the attic of his mind palace. Muddy footprints at a heinous crime scene, however, have led him right back to old enemies. And right back to captivity. For God’s sake, Mycroft. Part 2 of the Earthly Pomp (Is But a Dream) series [formerly "Genius is a Star..."]

Spare Parts by Raina_at (E, 63,497 w., 10 Ch. || 24th Century / Futurism AU || Post TRF, Pre-TRF Relationship, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Science Fiction, Reunion, Nightmares, Angry John, Cybernetic John, Emotional Discussions / Heart to Heart, POV John, Scars, Past Drug Use, Forehead Touching, Emotional Lovemaking, Kissing, Apologies, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission, BAMF John, Bed Sharing, Top Sherlock) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them. Part 1 of Realigning Gravity

Swallow the Night by ArwaMachine (E, 87,873 w., 15 Ch. || TSo3/Stag Night Fix It, TAB/S4 Divergence, Toplock, Mutual Pining, PWP, Drunk / Public Sex, Anal Fingering/Sex, Alcohol-Induced Amnesia, Everyone Knows Except Them, Emotional Love Confession, Demisexual Sherlock, Internalized Homophobia [John], Parentlock with Rosie, First Kiss, Drug Relapse, Infidelity, Texting, Masturbation, Oblivious John, Emotional Love Making, Angst with Happy Ending, Dreams and Nightmares) – “Do you know how long,” John panted, his cheek scraping against the wall, looking back at Sherlock through half-closed eyes, “I’ve wanted this?” Sherlock pressed himself against John’s back, biting at John’s ear. “Not nearly as long as I have,” he whispered.

Fade To Black by twistedthicket1 (M, 93,389 w., 29 Ch. || Dissociative Personality Disorder / DID, Dissociation, Action, Romance, Violence, Implied Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Fluff and Angst, Baskerville, Human Experimentation, PTSD, Implied Self Harm, Trauma Amnesia, Past Child Sexual Abuse, Protective Sherlock, Smoking, Meddling Mycroft, Past Victor/Sherlock, Gay Sherlock, Sherlock’s Past, First Kiss/Time, Happy Ending) – John Watson believes one day he'll just fade. That he'll drown in the black spaces of his mind, and that one day he will no longer exist. It's always been like this, the dark spots marking out moments in his life he can't remember. Where for just a moment he's someone else. Having a Dissociative identity disorder, he can't even be entirely sure he's really who he says he is. Then he meets Sherlock Holmes. A brilliant detective who when he looks at you can read your entire life story. John is immediately fascinated and afraid, half-wondering if maybe Sherlock can see the other personalities in him and half terrified of the thought of him finding out. Becoming his flatmate seems at once to be a wonderful and horrible idea. Yet as John's Blackouts become more and more severe and his other personalities begin to truly awaken and show themselves with Sherlock's help, the two soon discover that sometimes even the kindest person can harbour a demon best left untouched inside of them. Because not all of John's other personalities play nicely and some may be hiding secrets best left undisturbed...

Drawn to Stars by Silvergirl (E, 109,272 w., 60 Ch. || S4 Compliant to TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock’s Italian Adventure, Sherlock/OC and Johnlock, Jealous John, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, First Kiss/Time, Idiots in Love, 3 Part Story, Slow Burn, Inexperienced Sherlock, Bottom Sherlock, Introspection, Multiple Alternating First and Third Person POV, Separation and Reconciliation, Emotional Love Making, Love Confessions via Letters, Angst with Happy Ending) – After the Culverton Smith case Sherlock is clean, working, and looking for a romantic partner—since John has told him that’s what he needs. Shame John didn’t mention he was interested in that role himself, before Sherlock went off to Rome with a gorgeous Italian copper to try to fall in love and become a complete human being. Part 1 of the Drawn to Stars series

Out There by DiscordantWords (T, 131,695 w., 10 Ch. || X-Files Fusion || Past Soldier John, Panic Attacks, POV Alternating Present Tense, Anxious John, Canon Adjacent, Deductions, Obsessive Sherlock,, Travelling, Sherlock’s Family, Jealous Sherlock, Mind Palace John, Awkward Flirting, Batting Cage, Kidnapped/Abducted John, Semi-Reverse Reichenbach, Worried/Anxious Sherlock, Hospital, Slow Burn, UST, Case Fic, Government Conspiracy, Aliens, UFOs, Mutants, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Coma John, Forehead Touching, Hand Holding, Drinking/Bars, Past Jolto) – FBI Special Agent John Watson, medical doctor and army veteran, is assigned to assist eccentric genius Sherlock Holmes with paranormal investigations on the X-Files project.

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ALL GOOD OMENS BOOKMARKS [9]

Wherever We Go by leaveanote (G, 1,719 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Romance, First Kiss, Hurt Crowley, Aziraphale Loves Crowley, Love Confessions, Tooth-Rotting Fluff) – It’s been one week since the world didn’t end, and Crowley is going out of his mind. He needs to just tell Aziraphale how he feels, but when something's gone unspoken for this long, no words feel good enough. Eventually, he can't take it anymore, and asks Aziraphale to walk with him in St. James Park. Absolute ineffable fluff.

Exposed by LollipopCop (E, 8,867 w., 2 Ch. || Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, First Kiss, First Time, Making Out, Wings, Love Confessions, Virgin Crowley, Angst with Happy Ending) – In which Gabriel can feel how much Aziraphale loves Crowley, and outs him.

equinox by leaveanote (E, 8,993 w., 1 Ch. || South Downs Cottage, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, First Time, Romance, 6000 Years of Pining, Soft Idiots, Love, Anxious Crowley, Emotional Lovemaking) – Here in the South Downs cottage, Crowley has more than he ever thought he would: the two of them, safe, and he gets to live alongside Aziraphale every day. He still can't bring himself to say it, though, still finds himself wanting, doesn't want to drag the angel down with the mess of his love, doesn't want to ruin what they have. Aziraphale, however, is getting tired of Crowley staring longingly off into the night sky, and confronts him. There is more of a balance here than Crowley thought.

Archangel of Healing by Nnm (T, 9,317 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S1, Crowley Was Raphael, Miscommunication / Fight, Physical Intimacy, Aziraphale POV, Pining Aziraphale, Idiots In Love) – Aziraphale susses out Crowley's pre-Fall identity, as the Archangel Raphael. With this, he must rethink everything he thought he knew about the last six thousand years, about his own identity and his friend's, and even the Ineffable Plan. There is a fight, expressions of fear and hurt, reconciliation, yearning and confusion, and the sorts of questions that by all rights should cause an angel to Fall. Also, at one point, Crowley admits he once lied about breeding rats for demonic ends. Part 1 of The Healer and the Lover

wherever you are, i'll come to you by mutalune (T, 11,375 w., 6 Ch. || Post-Apocalypse, Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Angel Aziraphale, Aziraphale Loves Crowley, Crowley Tries to Help, Slight Angst, Petty Demonic Aziraphale) – “Now that I’m no longer beholden to a rather arbitrary moral code, I have to ask: Do you pay taxes? Actually, more importantly, do you think I can stop paying taxes now? That seems like a sufficiently demonic thing to do. Refusing to do my civic duty and whatnot. Quite devious, I’d argue.” This was, in hindsight, not the most sensitive way of breaking the news.

His Lips Sealed by LollipopCop (E, 11,824 w. 2 Ch. || Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Repression, Drunken Love Confession, First Kiss/Time, Making Out, Love Letters, Oblivious Crowley, Virgin Crowley, Upset Crowley, Angst With Happy Ending) – Aziraphale knew Crowley was desperately in love with him; he heard it straight from the source one incredibly drunken night. He was just the only one who remembered, and was too afraid to do anything about it.

You Never Had A Heart by HotCrossPigeon (T, 12,983 w., 3 Ch. || Hurt Aziraphale, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Blood/Injury, Scared/Panicking Crowley, Idiots in Love, Caring Crowley, Aziraphale Whump, Demonic Traps, BAMF Aziraphale, Hugs, Soft Crowley, Discorporation, Caring/Protective Crowley, Humour, Angst with Happy Ending, Crowley Rescues Aziraphale, Bad Acting, Knife Wounds, Traumatized Crowley, First Kiss, Protective Aziraphale, Hurt Crowley) – Aziraphale finds himself unwittingly ensnared in a demonic trap. Unfortunately for a panicking Crowley, there’s only one way to get the angel out of it. Part 6 of Hurt!Aziraphale Stories

Witness the Fall by Waifine (G, 14,512 w.., 5 Ch. || Pre-Fall, The Fall, Post-Fall, Crowley Was Raphael, Hurt/Comfort, Angel Crowley, Angst with Happy Ending, Crowley's Memories, Aziraphale POV, Not-Nice Archangels, Feathers, Soulmates, Wings) – Crowley never talked about his time as an angel. Aziraphale never asked. But when Hell sends Crowley a package containing his most painful memories, it is Aziraphale who is plunged into the nightmare history of when his beloved friend, the angel who had once been Crowley, was hurled from the Heavens into the bowels of Hell.

lit in the darkness by ToEdenandBackAgain (M, 40,575 w., 14 Ch. || Slow Burn, 6000 Years of Pining, Bed Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Historical, Passage of Time) – Aziraphale returns to Crowley's flat for the night after Armageddon. After all, it's hardly the first time they've shared sleeping arrangements. Or: Times throughout history Crowley and Aziraphale have shared a bed.

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ALL MOON KNIGHT BOOKMARKS [2]

What it Feels Like by DriftingPieces (NR [T], 5,154 w., 1 Ch. || MOON KNIGHT [2022] || Layla POV, Layla / Steven / Jake / Marc, Autistic System, References to Depression, Mental Health Issues, Fluff, Safe Spaces, Protective Layla, Introspection, Relationship Reflection, Identity Issues) – No one said it would be easy to be in a relationship with Marc/Jake/Steven. Does Layla have regrets? How does she cope when her relationships struggle with their mental health?

For Friendship is the True Adventure! by Rheanna (G, 5,199 w., 1 Ch. || MOON KNIGHT [2022] || Crack Treated Seriously, Multiple Personalities / DID, Co-Fronting, Past Child Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Protective Steven, Marc’s Self-Esteem, Dissociation, Marc POV) – In which Marc, Steven and Layla watch Tomb Buster.

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FAVE LOKIUS BOOKMARKS [13]

all to myself by markofalover (G, 1,577 w., 1 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Lokius, S02E03 Rewrite, Fake Relationship, Undercover as a Couple, Pining, Flirting) – “Oh, come on, Mobius,” Loki says, finally looking over, and oh, okay, they’re really close. “Have some fun.” “This is fun to you?”

out of focus, eye to eye by markofalover (G, 2,129 w., 1 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Lokius, S02E05 Alternate Events, Pining Loki, Loki POV, Flirting, Misunderstandings, Crush at First Sight, Insecure Loki, Oh-Oh! Moment) – “You know…are you still in the market?” Loki raises his eyebrows. “Oh, for the, uh,” he sets his hands out in a wild gesture that he hopes somehow makes the mark, because he doesn’t know what an ATV even is— “Oh, no, no,” Mobius says. He’s smiling, now, for some reason Loki can’t quite understand, eyes sparkling in the sun, soft color in his cheeks. “I mean—sorry, I haven’t done this in a while. That was a bad line.”

Are We Dating? by AindyGhosh (G, 2,288 w., 1 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Lokius, S02E05 Rewrite, Flirty Mobius, Flustered Loki, Fluff) – Now that the thought had taken root in Don’s mind, it refused to let go, clinging on to him like a limpet. As it was, Don was infamous in his friends’ circles for his lack of a brain-to-mouth filter. Therefore, it didn’t come as a surprise to him when he just gave in, and verbalised the one doubt that had been making rounds in his head since the moment he had talked to Loki. “Are we dating?” It was only logical to deduce that. And Don couldn’t believe this God-like person had been interested in him enough to agree to date him.

Exsanguination by Beb (T, 3,061 w., 1 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Protective Loki, Mobius Whump, Hospitals, Worried Loki, Mobius Needs A Hug, Blood and Injury, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – As a trained agent, Mobius really believed his presence was required in every mission, no matter how risky. As a worried friend and lover, Loki really believed this was absolutely, undoubtedly the last straw. He wasn't about to do nothing and let Mobius carelessly throw himself in danger anymore. Not after the last incident nearly cost Mobius his life.

how's that for glorious purpose? by unintentionallyangsty (T, 3,081 w., 1 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Lokius, Post-S2, S02E06 Fix It, Romance & Drama, Soulmates, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Crying, Reunion, Touch Starvation, Soft Mobius, Hugs, Both Need a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Fluff, Hopeful / Ambiguous / Open Ending, Anxiety, Made Me Cry, Forehead Kisses, Soft Loki, Love Confessions, Friendship/Love) – A Loki is left alone without his Mobius. Mobius finds himself completely alone and purposeless without his Loki. Realistically, how long can it last? (Or; directly after Sylvie reveals the reality of Mobius' previous life on the timeline to him, Loki finds a way to return).

The Green Means I Love You by VeggieHarumaki (T, 3,576 w. 1 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Soul Mates AU || Colourblindness, Pining, Caring Mobius, First Kiss, Pining Mobius, POV Mobius, Forehead Touching, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. It’s the first color Mobius sees. His world fills with new colors, sensory levels overwhelmed as his gaze scatters across the courtroom. Browns, yellows, colors he’d only heard of before he finally sees with his own eyes. But the green. The cold, emerald green. L1130 stares back at Mobius, eyes full of suspicion, and Mobius can’t help but let his breath hitch. Oh no. Mobius’ heart sinks as fast as it had risen. This variant, L1130, Loki, is his soulmate. But Mobius had read Loki’s files one too many times to forget. Mobius is not Loki’s.

So, Stay by Marauderess5 (G, 4,299 w., 1 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mission Gone Wrong, Loki Whump, Caretaker Mobius, Protective Mobius, Protective Loki, Touching, Soft Mobius, Forehead Touching, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, Fluffy Angst) – Mission-gone-wrong. Loki has to make a sacrifice to protect Mobius. Will he do it? Spoiler alert, of course he will, they’re in love. Part 2 of Lokius Whump, my Beloved

more than words by unintentionallyangsty (T, 4,716 w., 1 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Lokius, Post S2, Slow Romance, Awkward Romance, First Dates, Awkward Flirting, Attachment Issues, Abandonment Issues, Touch-Starvation, Slow Dancing, Shyness, Insecure Loki, Anxiety Attacks, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluffy Angst, Hugs, Getting Together, Future Fic) – After everything - in spite of everything-, there are only a few words that have truly gone unspoken between Loki and Mobius. And, in spite of Loki's famed "silver tongue", none of these words ever seem to come easily. Luckily, Mobius is patient. They have all the time in the world, after all.

The Best Gift of All by frommyhearttoyours (T, 5,992 w., 1 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Parent / Teacher Modern AU || Lokius, Mobius POV, Single Dad Mobius, Teacher Loki, Single Parents, Love Confessions, Insecure Mobius, Frustrated Mobius, Mutual Pining, Sweet Fluff, Forehead Touching, Oh-Oh! Moment) – Mr. Laufeyson is the most popular teacher at Lakewood Elementary School, where Mobius's sons are students. He's not just popular among the children, though. He's an even bigger hit among the parents...especially the single ones on the hunt for a Mr. Right. Mobius isn't ashamed to admit he counts himself among the man's many, many admirers, but he also has no delusions that he could ever win the beautiful and intelligent Mr. Laufeyson's interest and attention. Because that would be impossible... right?

Branches by Ailendolin (T, 6,322 w., 6 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Post-S1, Lokius, Pining Loki, Five and One, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Worried/Panicking Loki, Protective Mobius, Made Me Cry, Angst, Loki Needs a Hug, Multiverse) – 5 times Loki searched the Multiverse for his Mobius, and 1 time Mobius found him.

Magic Like You by Anonymous (NR [M], 9,714 w., 5 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Post-S2, Light Angst, Soft, Friends to Lovers, Jotunn Loki, Pining Loki, Heavy Pining, Bed Sharing, Jealous Loki, POV Loki, Living Together, First Kiss/Time) – Loki and Mobius are trying to carve out a new life for themselves after all the chaos and hurt and destruction that was caused by the TVA. This story explores Loki's new life and his relationship to Mobius through magic. (With lots of stupid fun and soft moments along the way, because with these two, it's inevitable.)

we can stay here (& laugh away the fear) by unintentionallyangsty (T, 11,100 w., 1 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Lokius, Canon Divergence, TVA Shenanigans, Attention Seeking Behaviour, Praise Kink, Touch Starvation, Pet Names, Angsty Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Shyness, Awkward Flirting, Crying, Misunderstandings, Cuddling/Snuggling, Blushing, Depression Mention) – Loki is bad with people and relationships, and tends to assume the worst of every intention and interaction because it's easier in the long-run. Mobius is good with Loki. (Or, two times Loki is spooked off by Mobius' unexpected gentleness and familiarity, and one (1) time the opposite is true).

like a flood spills away as a world stains by RunnyYolk (T, 34,055 w., 4 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || S0103 Divergence, Alternating POV, Developing Friendship, Developing Relationship, Mutual Pining, Denial of Feelings, Feelings Realization, Trust Issues, Angst, Introspection, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existential Angst, Flashbacks, Recovered Memories, Psychological Torture/Abuse, Touch-Starvation, Affection, Tenderness, Hand Holding, Emotional Friendship, Hair Pulling, Touching, Softness) – Loki groans and his elbows slide forward as he slumps over the side of the desk. "Do not tell me you left all the signature fields blank again." "It makes it easier when I check." "It adds a ridiculous amount of time! Do you actually enjoy this part, is that it? Are you a masochist?" Mobius smirks, shaking his head, and stands up. "Just go to bed, scamp." Part 3 of where the edge began

#johnlock fic recs #lokius fic recs #moon knight fic recs #good omens fic recs #my fic recs #fave fics #long post #top bookmarks #top fave fics #other fandom fic recs

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missinghan · 3 years

Text

cold sun ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : soulmate au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 2,6k.

❖ warning : slight swearing

❖ summary : in a world where one will lose something if their soulmate doesn’t reciprocate their words of love once they turn sixteen, jisung is willing to take the risk so you won’t have to bear the burden.

❖ note : i just realized how i always tend to write for jisung when i'm down :')) anywho this piece is a little different than what i usually come up with but i hope y'all enjoy it ♡

It’s the first day of the week.

“Hey, Y/N. I like you!”

And Han Jisung is really annoying.

Those words come out so easily. It's casual in a way that makes you bury your red nose deeper into the soft fabric of your scarf, which makes your footsteps quicken unknowingly as his voice chases after you loudly. Either way, this isn’t the first time Jisung has said so. In fact, it’s become a habit for him to remind you every other day.

There’s no particular reason why. Or at least that’s what you think.

It’s the end of the week. Jisung decides to hang himself upside down on your bed while you’re stressing over a presentation. “Hey, Y/N.” A cold winter breeze comes rushing against the perplexing glass of your window, shaking the frame violently before all motions come to silence.

Until, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he creeps up from behind you and chirps into your ear.

“What?” you let out a groan of displease when tempting warmth embraces you whole, prompting you to drop your attention and looking over your shoulder.

Jisung pouts, “You didn’t answer me.”

“It’s because you’re annoying,” you sigh.

“Answer me when I call your name,” he pulls you in a fraction tighter, careful enough not to hurt you but firm to not let you slip away at the same time, and cradles your neck warmly, “So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“Alright, stupid.”

The all too familiar gummy smile returns instantly. “Hey, Y/N?”

And you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, Jisung?”

“I like you,” he giggles into the hug, “I like you a lot.”

Han Jisung really is annoying.

He’s annoying because he talks too much. He’s annoying because of how he always asks for your notes after a gaming night with Felix just to nap in class. He’s annoying because he’d drop you in a heartbeat for a single slice of cheesecake from Jeongin’s mom’s bakery. He’s annoying because of how well he can get along with everyone.

Chatty, down-to-earth, easy-going with a lovable smile—attractive, very attractive.

It’s the week after that. “What...happened?”

“He lost his voice,” Jeongin sighs, looking like he genuinely wants to facepalm himself against concrete while walking with an incoherent Jisung to school; expressive hands with his mouth agape and all.

You tilt your head, “...for real?”

“For real.”

After a few seconds of eyeing Jisung struggling with converting what’s in his head, you exhale deeply and quickly rummage through your backpack, “Just stop, you look ridiculous.” And he does just that, zipping his mouth metaphorically and giving you those typical puppy eyes. “Here, use this.”

His eyes light up like stars when you rip off a page from one of your notebooks and offer it to him along with a pen. Truth is, you’re expecting something as predictable as ‘I like you’ or ‘It’s alright it’s just the worst cold I’ve ever caught’. But then, what’s displayed on the piece of paper right now only baffles you.

Park is going to murder you if he sees some uglyass tear in your Ochem notes :)

A forced grin splits your lips open. “Not if I murdered you first and then the entire school and then myself.”

The first genuine smile blossoms on his lips when you give him a mini-sized notepad and pencil the day after—his sixteenth birthday.

And Jisung decides this is it.

It happens when the sun hasn’t even come out yet and the irritating blue light from his phone reads 5:32 AM.

It happens when he sees your reclined figure leaning back against his mattress, his pupils tracing your delicate features. Perplexed emotions fill his eyes to the brim, fulfillment bursting within his chest when you stare right back at him with such purity. So pure that it seems you can do no harm to him and neither can he.

“Hey stupid,” you murmur quietly, shoving a notepad and pencil against his chest, “Happy birthday.”

Jisung gives you a bright smile, opens his mouth, and snaps it close mere moments later. Sixteenth birthday. Early in the morning. Tired grins. The fondness of being so disgustingly in love.

He can’t help but lean in and caves into the taste his soul has longed for as long as he can remember.

Two weeks have passed since Jisung has lost his voice.

Nothing has differed if you’re being completely honest. Han Jisung is still annoying. His lack of ability to speak doesn’t appear to be a problem to him at all. He loves chatting with people even though he’s more of a listener now. But with the small notepad you gave him a few days ago, being socially active is the norm for him even now.

Thanks to his rather short-period experiences of observing people’s expressions and how their features contort in certain ways when they’re feeling certain emotions, Jisung catches onto your mood more quickly during bad days to help you release your inner turmoil by scribbling down something stupid on the notepad. It’s kinda nice like this, you’d think to yourself sometimes.

Other times, you’re more scared that you might have forgotten what his voice sounds like.

“No wonder you got a fucking cold. Stop taking midnight showers already.”

You wave Jisung over when he closes the wooden door to your bedroom, droplets dripping from his hair as he scratches his stomach tiredly. His hair is a mess when he lazily crawls onto your bed, the cushion beside you dips slightly.

His index finger pointing at his post-shower head and a shit-eating grin are all you need to snatch the white towel around his neck.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you mumble while rubbing the cotton fabric into his hair, “But you’re awfully upbeat for someone who’s lost their voice. Can’t you at least pretend to be sad about it?”

A noise of protest escapes his throat like second nature as your eyes carefully read the quick movements of his mouth. “And can you not be so mean to someone who’s lost their voice?”

A faint smirk creeps its way up to your lips. “Still like me now?”

Jisung thinks hard for a few moments before jumping out of bed to snatch his notepad from your studying area. Of course, I like you. I like you a lot. Your heartbeat momentarily spikes at his scrawny handwriting. Just when your gaze is averted away to cool the blush on your cheeks, he tugs at your sleeve again and points at a different mess of scribbles. You’re more gentle when I’m like this. And you’d always find me if I ever got into trouble. What’s there for me to be sad about?

“Annoying little shit,” you swallow your pride and let him settle his head against your chest.

His presence melts into yours during the hardest hours of the twenty-four, heartbeats on heartbeats and warmth on warmth. Your one regret is that you’re unable to register his tears that night, only the incoherent, breathless hiccups almost as to desperately call out your name.

It’s been a month since Jisung’s lost his voice. And the night when he kisses you for the second time, his notepad is long forgotten next to your pillow.

I-can’t-talk. Give-me-a-break.

Jeongin. Cheesecake. Please? Pretty please?

I’ll fucking kick you.

Wait, there’s homework?!

...so you’re telling me LMAO isn’t how French people laugh?

“This is what you’ve been doing during breaks huh…” you mumble under your breath while lazily flipping through the papers. The occasional ‘I like you’-s do pop up every two pages or so, which is more than enough to make you smile like an idiot. But that is until a peculiar paragraph yanks your attention by its neck and tosses it against a brick wall.

Mom, promise me you’re not going to cry.

He made auntie cry?!

I lost my voice for real now but it wasn’t supposed to be like that at first. I just wanted to mess with Y/N and freak her out for a day.

I’m seriously going to punch him.

She was a lot softer toward me after that, you know. I know it’s extremely selfish of me but I just can’t help being so happy. I’m sorry, mom. I really am.

Han Jisung you fucking idiot.

I was going to surprise her on my birthday by saying ‘good morning’ out loud but nothing came out. My voice was gone.

Guilt, anger, remorse take over you. You knew nothing of this. You never once questioned for a logical reason behind the loss of his voice and kept moving onward as if it’s not that big of a deal. You didn’t suspect it as a kind of prank, either. But you still care, all this time! You have been doing everything in your power as a way for both you and Jisung to treasure himself even if he can’t speak anymore.

I went to a check-up last week. Nothing came up. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

However, without fail, the obnoxious part of you will keep wandering back to the concept of soulmates that has been engraved so deeply into the society you’re living in. It makes no sense to you that Jisung lost his voice for no reason right before his sixteenth birthday. This explains it all now.

It’s going to be okay, mom. Because I have Y/N. I know she would come running toward my side over and over again even if she can’t hear me anymore. I really don’t know what I’d do without her in my life.

Jisung knew the penalty for being the first to exchange any words of love yet he still did it. And you were too busy overlooking that stupid pride of yours to say those three words back.

It’s getting to the point where I’m starting to forget what I used to sound like. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

Jisung fixes the strap of his backpack, looking up at his mom after slipping into his sneakers. She ruffles his bed head and hands him a small white box with Jeongin’s bakery’s signature logo on it.

He tilts his head in faint confusion, peering at the box of pastry in his arms.

“Give it to Y/N on the bus, okay? Her parents aren’t home right now. You know how she would always skip breakfast when they’re out of town.”

His eyes light up instantly in realization and Jisung nods, preparing to bid her farewell. Just then, his front door comes flying open. It can’t be a mere acquaintance because there are very few people other than his parents and himself who know of the spare key hidden under the welcome mat.

As Jisung turns around, he’s keenly aware of your teary eyes already trained on him. Which in hindsight, makes no sense. As a result, panic rises within the hollowness of his chest, his lips falling agape but no coherent words come out.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” his mom flinches, slightly caught off guard, “Is everything okay?”

A scowl stretches over your contorted features as you shut the door loudly. “What the hell is this?” you question, shoving the familiar notepad into his chest. “A prank? A prank?! Do you think that this is funny?”

Jisung’s frantic eyes move to read the paper and every single color on his face drains tremendously. He easily recognizes the peculiar paragraph by how much lighter the ink is compared to the rest of the messy lines because his pen was running low and his hand couldn’t stop shaking.

Your voice.

His eyes avert back to look at you. His brows furrow timidly and shaky breaths burst from his lips almost like a desperate cry for help. There’s too much he wants to say, too many things to explain, and too many questions running through his head that he can’t process what to do next. He might just overwhelm both you and himself.

I need to hear it again.

And you might not stay by his side this time.

“Okay, don’t answer me then, I guess,” you chuckle lowly, dipping your head and turning around.

Jisung grabs at your sleeve instinctively and drops the pastry box, his gaze empty and all too knowing. Sorrow glazes over his starry eyes when it starts becoming hard to breathe properly. The outlines of his lips are moving non-stop yet nothing comes following after that.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you rasp out and tug at his hand. Then it hits you. He’s like this because of you. Jisung lost his voice because of you.

His mom cuts into the conversation, “Y/N, you don’t understand!”

“I’m sorry, auntie,” you smile sadly and take off running into the streets.

You, in the midst of your self-loathing and guilt, allow your feet to go wherever they want as your vision spirals into a blur. A single droplet threatens to fall when a forceful hand yanks you back to reality.

It takes Jisung a moment to regain his regular breathing pace. And when he finally gets it, all he can do is call out to you with the same inaudible sounds and the same desperation in his eyes. It seems as though he’s fully aware that the prank was the stupidest, most irrational thing he’s ever done. But there’s more to the ocean within his eyes than just remorse.

“I already told you,” you clench your jaw and slap his hand away, “I don’t fucking know what you’re saying!”

A deep sigh. “Why am I mad? Of course, I’d be mad! It’s because of me that you lost your voice! It’s because I like you, too! Yet I never said it back… You lost your voice because of me! Don't you get it? Why can't you just hate me for the sake of it?!”

You miss his voice. You miss it a lot.

You want to hear it again. You want to hear him call you by your name. You want to stay up late and talk about anything to the ends of the Earth and back with him. You want him to be the obnoxious, chatty Han Jisung you've always known.

You miss how annoyingly loud he is.

“Y-Y...Y/N…!”

Jisung collapses onto his knees, a hand on concrete while the other is on his neck. His chest rises and falls unevenly, muffled noises of discomfort echoing deep down from his throat. Despite that, what you heard just now, is his voice.

“Answer me when I call your name. So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“I promised you, didn’t I,” you spread your arms and smile warmly, “That I’d always answer when you call my name. As long as I can still hear you, I will come running toward you over and over again. Doesn’t matter what it takes, doesn’t matter where you are.”

Jisung lifts his head and tears come rolling down on his cheeks. His throat feels swollen when he stutters with difficulties, trying to convey what’s in his head, “Y-Y/N, don’t- don’t go! Please don’t leave me...!”

“Come here,” you close your eyes with the widest grin on your lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Only when Jisung grows closer and throws his arms around you, sobbing into your uniform do you convince yourself that all of this isn’t a hallucination. The hug is a lot stronger than what you’d expect. First of all, you nearly fell over from the impact and your arms are pinned so tightly to your sides that you feel like your ribs are going to snap.

Everything is so overwhelming that all you can say is, “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your hair and loosens his arms a bit so you can loop your hands to the nape of his neck and hair.

“You’re so annoying, Han Jisung.”

He purses his lips, sniffling, “You tried to make me snap on purpose. Meanie.”

You quirk a playful brow, “Still like me now?”

“Yeah,” Jisung smiles, “A lot.”

Because he knows that he has you. Until every last star in the galaxy explodes as a supernova, Jisung has you.

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figonas · 3 years

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Twilight Re-watch Notes Pt. 1 - A Contest for the Worst Movie Quote in History

I'd like to think I'm funny so please enjoy my scene-by-scene notes from a recent Twilight Saga re-watch.

Hey Catherine Hardwicke, opening with the death of an animal was probably not the best choice but go off I guess??

There is a lot of general Bella awkwardness that I'm skipping over here but the scene in gym class is so horrifically, painfully uncomfortable that I almost passed out from the second-hand embarrassment.

Jessica trying her best to be fake nice to the human embodiment of a crumpled soda can: "Aren't people from Arizona like....really tan"

Bella with all the cadence of a child who just found out Santa isn't real: "yeah..I guess that's why they kicked me out"

Mike clearly just trying to get his dick wet: "HAHAH you are funny"

no mike she is not.

I'm not gonna go into the biology class scene because god knows tumblr has beaten that particular horse to death. BUT the scene in the administration office immediately after that is a TRIP. Edward has one of his most dramatic lines here when they won't let him switch classes: “I’ll just have to endure it” ?!?!?!?!?!?! This is INSANITY, he sounds like he's going to burst into tears like Edward please chill you aren't even being a little subtle.

I will never get over Bella trying to put Ketchup on her burger and then just???? giving up???? when it doesn't come out after she limply shakes it approximately once.

“HOW YOU LIKIN DA RAIN GIRL” Is our first contender for the worst and most unnatural line in movie history, and trust me there are plenty more.

Bella accusatorily saying “you were gone” to Edward as if this dude who she met for approximately 30 minutes 2 weeks ago owes her even a PALTRTY SCRAP of an explanation about anything???????

Actually, this whole scene is a horrific nightmare of awkward intrusive conversation:

“You’re asking me about the weather” HOE WHAT ELSE ARE YOU GONNA TALK ABOUT YOU DON’T KNOW EACH OTHER

“hey did you get contacts” WHO JUST ASKS THAT?!?

and of course; “it’s the fluorescents” [RUNS AWAY]

Charlie and Bella have the only organic-sounding dialogue in the entire movie. Any awkwardness they have is BELIEVABLE father-daughter awkwardness and not like "I'm being forced to film this against my will" awkwardness like every other exchange in this film series.

Bella asks Edward ALL OF ONCE about him saving her from the truck and Edward gets so haughty and smug thinking that Bella won't figure it out

“you’re not gonna let this go are you?” “no” “then I hope you enjoy disappointment” [storms off] MY DUDE LITERALLY 2 SCENES LATER SHE FIGURES IT OUT IN 3 GOOGLE CLICKS

“I had an adrenaline rush, it’s very common you can google it” contender number two for the terrible dialogue award.

Edward saying “if you were smart you would stay away from me” AFTER HE APPROACHED HER LIKE FUCK OFF [skeleton throwing its own skull gif]

Kstew got a lot of flack for her performance in this movie but when she has a good partner to exchange lines with she SHINES. The scene with Angela and her at the beach where she tells her to ask Eric to prom is GOOD. EVERY scene with Charlie in THIS ENTIRE FRANCHISE is GOOD. It is nothing but pure misogyny that Rpatz didn’t catch any flack for his truly, horrifically awkward performance

I cannot believe Stephanie thought it would be a good idea to have Edward save Bella from potentially getting gang r*ped like I get it girl is about the drama but still this is just a TOOOUCH too far

“your hand is so cold,” WHO SAYS THIS TO SOMEONE THEY BARELY KNOW COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED???

SHE TRIES TO REFUSE CARRYING BEAR MACE WHEN SHE WAS ALMOST R*PED NOT 4 HOURS PREVIOUSLY LIKE SIS CARRY A KNIFE?!?!?!?!?

The “you’re impossibly fast & strong” monologue is so bad I want to barf

“I’ve killed people before” “doesn’t matter” BITCH YES IT DOES WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

“MY OWN PERSONAL BRAND OF HEROIN” IS SO BAD. Like we all recognize how bad this is right? Especially when one considered the target demographic for these films, i.e. teenage girls, have NO FUCKING FRAME OF REFERENCE FOR THIS WHAT.SO.EVER.

“And so the lion fell in love with the lamb” YOU’VE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR ALL OF 3 SECONDS I CAN’T WITH Y'ALL. AT LEAST THE BOOK HAD SOME BUILD-UP JESUS GEEZUS

Who thought this meadow scene was a good idea, they need to be sent straight to hell. WHY ARE THEY LAYING DOWN LIKE, SIT MAYBE?????? IT’S SO WEIRD AND UNNATURAL THEY LOOK LIKE DOLLS I HATE IT

The scene where they get out of the car and Edward puts his arm around Bella while Spotlight by Mutemath plays in the background is TOP TIER teen drama bs and I love it. Far and away the best shot in the movie apart from The Baseball Scene(TM).

I will never get over the fact that Edward's bitch ass rats Bella out for already eating when she comes over to meet his family. BE FUCKING COOL EDWARD FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, GOD!!!

Esme is too pure for this world I can’t deal with her, & Emmet waving the knife is my favorite thing in all 5 of these movies

Why tf are Alice and Jasper fucking off doing god knows what in a tree and not helping with dinner like everyone else? Y'all ain't special even Rosalie is helping

Esme talking to Rosalie “Clean this up..now” I LOVE YOU BE MY MOM

Earlier they talk about the fact that vampires don’t sleep BUT the first thing Bella says when she walks into Edward's room is “no bed” girl we know what you after you ain't slick.....

WHAT IS THIS DANCING SCENE IN HIS BEDROOM IT’S HORRIBLE TO WATCH and I want to find whoever thought “well I could always make you” was a good line for Edward to say and slap them directly in the mouth.

“hold on tight spider monkey” excuse me while I VOMIT

Mike offering his opinion on Bella dating Edward HOWEVER justified is automatically invalidated by A. his own romantic interest in Bella and B. the fact that he has also know Bella for all of 10 minutes & has no bearing on her personal life whatsoever

THE PAST COUPLE OF MONTHS THIS MAN HAS BEEN COMING INTO HER ROOM AND WATCHING HER SLEEP THIS IS RED FLAG CITY LIKE BELLA WATCH A TRUE CRIME DOCUMENTARY OR READ THE NEWS FOR FUCKS SAKE

THIS FRANCHISE HAS THE MOST HORRIBLE KISSING SCENES IN MOVIE HISTORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU CAN HEAR LITERALLY EVERY BREATH, EVERY AWKWARD PRESS OF LIPS. You're telling me THIS was the best take of this???? CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW AWKWARD THIS WAS TO FILM

The whole scene when Bella is telling her dad about her date with Edward is absolutely god tier. Charlie snapping the barrel of the shotgun closed, him motioning that he has a halo on, asking her if she still has her pepper spray. BILLY BURKE LIFTED THIS MOVIE UP AND TRIED SO HARD TO CARRY IT ON HIS BROAD, MUSTACHIOED DAD SHOULDERS, WE STAN

WHERE TO START WITH THE BASEBALL SCENE:

Supermassive Black Hole in the background, Alice going AWF with her pitching, Rosalie getting all pissed when Bella says she's out and Emmett yells "c'mon babe it's just a game" like the puppy dog of a person (vampire?) he is, CARLISLE WEARING A SCARF WHILE PLAYING BASEBALL, I WILL NEVER EMOTIONALLY RECOVER FROM JASPERS BAT TRICKS, EMMET AND EDWARDS LAUGH AFTER CRASHING INTO ONE ANOTHER.

A TRULY IMMACULATE MOVIE SCENE. This scene isn’t long enough

“My monkey man” might be the worst line in this movie, I’m so torn between which one is the worst. Also, I'm just now realizing that this is the second time someone has compared a loved one to some type of monkey and I really don't like it.

Bella's defeated “I can’t hurt him” breaks my heart every time. AND FUCKING BILLY BURKE pulling out his acting chops with Charlie’s poor little broken sounding “I know I’m not that much fun to be around we can do more stuff together” & “I just gotcha back” LIKE LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SCENE HURTS ME ON A PHYSICAL LEVEL AND I AM ENTITLED TO FINANCIAL COMPENSATION

I know I've skipped over a lot but it's just a lot of like star wipe level montage of nonsense, so we are mOVING ON to what is possibly the biggest plot hole I've never recognized before now: How in the hell was James planning on luring Bella out if he didn’t find that videotape of Bella's mom looking for her????? Or was he just going to bust up in the holiday inn, metaphorical guns blazing & toss Bella out a window???

This fight scene between James & Edward is VERY poorly choreographed and you can practically see the stunt wires pulling on their clothes but no one is surprised..this is Twilight after all.

Who the fuck starts the fire in the ballet studio if Carlisle & Edward are with Bella, Jasper and Emmet are holding James's arms and Alice is ripping his head off???? Esme and Rosalie aren't there so the only explanation is that Emmett's power Stephanie never told us about is his ability to start small, controlled, indoor bonfires with his mind.

If Bella was losing blood from her femoral artery it is HIGHLY UNLIKELY that she would have been cognizant enough to tell them her hand was burning + THERE’S A BIG ASS BITE HOW DID THEY MISS IT???

Let Me Sign is such a good fucking song. Actually, while we're on music every song on every Twilight Saga soundtrack SLAPS. At least 1 department at Summit Entertainment was staffed with competent people. (side note, why the fuck do I know the studio by name that made this movie. I need to go lie down)

Bella acting a damn fool in the hospital bed like clingy much

CHARLIE IS SUCH A GOOD DAD FUCK!

The Edward/Jacob beef is so dramatic at prom can you both chill for 5 minutes we haven't even gotten to y'alls bullshit yet that's not until New Moon.

Bella really thought this mfer was gonna turn her at prom in the middle of the dancefloor??????????

Flightless Bird American Mouth. That's it, that's the bullet point

Victoria coming to prom, like we stan a dramatic bitch.

I will almost CERTAINLY post my New Moon (Extended Edition) notes in a few days. & yes I do have notes on the entire franchise.

#I had a lot more but I cut it down #a lot of my extra stuff was just talking about RPatz slipping inexplicably into a Spanish accent from time to time #no one seems to notice #but I fucking do #I hear the way he says 'so you're worried' and want to caCKLE OUT LOUD #I'm not nearly as funny as I think I am but ask me if I give a fuck #baby I will subject you to my poor humor #Twilight #Twilight Saga

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shmxp · 4 years

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You’re moving to the moon and you’re leaving everyone behind. A final love letter to Oikawa Tooru.

Nutritional Value: slight angst, SFW | Allergen Information: character death (?)

Manufacturer’s Notes: I heard a sad song, so I wrote this. I also used a metaphor, but y'all can take it literally, I guess.

To the light and love of my life,

I still remember the day when I first wrote you a love letter. We were only dating then. You said you were so happy you could die, and then I hit you on the head because, well, I’ve only had you for a few days. You couldn’t die yet.

I remember it clearly, love. You kissed me and said, ”Of course, I won’t. We’re still going to the moon.” And then I told you I’d write you a love letter every month until we get there.

My darling, we’ve come a long way since.

You’ve been asking me for weeks about when you’ll get the next one, and… here it is! The 131st letter. Unlike the rest, though, this letter is the last I’ll write to you. It is all the things that I want to tell you, but am too weak to say in person.

I love you, Oikawa Tooru. You filled my night sky with stars and showed me wonders no galaxy ever could. You filled me with your love until I was saturated and overflowing. You showed me sights and colors I could never even hope to see on my own.

I know I vowed forever, but I’m afraid I’ll have to break that promise. I’m going to the moon, and I am never coming back. I got my ticket six months into our marriage, and I have done all that I can think of to postpone my trip. But now, my one-woman rocket is finished, and I will have to leave soon.

I love you, Oikawa Tooru, and I hope you know that I would do anything to stay on this earth just a little bit longer. That I would give anything to hold you, and kiss you, and love you for many, many, more years.

But the sun is setting, and the moon is calling me home.

I love you, Oikawa Tooru. I have loved you from the moment you first called my name, to the day we said ‘I do’, to the day we met our little girl. I have loved you in our good times, in our bad times, and in all the moments between.

I love you, Oikawa Tooru, and I will continue to love you until the moment I board my rocket, and it lifts me off the ground. I will continue to love you even when I reach the moon, and the stars welcome me home.

It’s going to be hard when I leave, and for that, I am sorry. I won’t tell you to be strong, nor will I tell you not to cry. After all, I’ll be taking a piece of your heart, and I can only imagine how excruciating losing a part of yourself will be. My baby, I am so, so sorry for all the pain and hurt that my departure will cause you. I hope that one day, you can find it in yourself to forgive me.

My love, promise me that you won’t let anyone rush you into moving on. Heal at your own pace and at your own time. Take all the time you need to process and come to terms with everything. And one day, before you know it, you’ll be whole again. And if it takes too long, and your heart gets lonely, remember that you can look up to the heavens, and I’ll be there. Smiling and loving you still, watching over you from my new home.

I’ve written our little princess a letter too. I know she’s too little to read it now, but one day, when she asks about her momma, please read it to her, and tell her how much I love her.

I love you so much, Oikawa Tooru. I may be moving to the moon, but I’m leaving my heart on Earth, where it will stay with you and our baby girl for all time.

I love you so much, my sweetheart. Take care, and until we meet again.

Yours forever,

Y/n.

See the visual | Back to vending machine

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa angst

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enchanted--realm · 3 years

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When Calls the Heart Live Ramples

Season 8 episode 9 Pre Wedding Jitters

That scene in 👏Nathan's 👏office👏 The lines they wrote for Kevin *chef's kiss* perfection. I mean, I still dont like this whole secret reveal thing. I think it's so dumb. Like, ain't no way the writers intended Nathan to have this secret when he first came to the show. I don't think he was suppose to have any secret at all. I mean, this whole, 'There's something he's not telling me' thing came out of nowhere. That aside, the love confession was great, again, and he left Elizabeth speechless again and she ran away, AGAIN. That tells me all I need to know. She cannot deny this man BECAUSE SHE LOVES HIM. And if y'all think otherwise than you're delusional.

The game at the bachelorette party. It was obvious from the promo for this episode how this would play out. She reaches for Nathan's hands and thinks he's the one. (I was predicting that she would know it was Nathan and then feel uncomfortable and move on, but that didnt happen. She thought he was Lucas *bleh. Though I was still right in thinking Nathan would be 'the one' during this little game). We like that. I really liked how the party scene lasted longer than I expected. It wasnt even too long of a scene, but it was definitely long for When Calls the Heart. This show really needs to work on it's pacing. Everything happens so fast bc they have to cut to the millions of side plots that happen in every episode. My gosh, would they give us some focus please.

When Lucas came by Elizabeth's house in the morning I enjoyed that they interacted more casually with each other it seemed, at least it did on Elizabeth's part. Just through small details like the way she was casually leaning in the doorframe or her tone of voice. She wasnt so awkwardly polite...but Lucas still was. Lucas is so polite it's uncomfortable. Like I don't feel like anybody could just be themselves around him, bc it's like every meeting has this awkward air of being polite to an acquaintance you dont know well. Ugh it's so weird. I didnt like that Elizabeth told him Nathan's reveal. I feel she should have kept that to herself. Ugh and then Lucas wanted to act all protective and 'talk' to Nathan. Oh please. That is not his place. Elizabeth is obviously the one who needs to talk with Nathan and it's no one else's business what goes in between them, besides Allie of course. And speaking of Allie, I thought her scenes were really good and thoughtful. I still think it was weird that Lucas got her a gift for her adoption ceremony, but whatever we are past that now. I like that her character is being more mature about everything too. I really hope we get a scene where Allie and Elizabeth have their own conversation though. They need it. I'm not sure how I feel about that obvious Paul (Florence's son) having a crush on Allie. It seems that the writers will want them to like each other. I guess it could be cute? It's just a little awkward bc we havent seen this Paul kid around before so it creates a weird air that the only reason he shows up now is to be a school crush for Allie. Eh. Jaeda was great though and I think she did her scenes well.

After Lucas and E talked, I think it's obvious to Lucas that Elizabeth has strong feelings for Nathan and that she's just running away from them. I mean, she told Lucas that when Nathan told her he loves her all she could do was say nothing and just leave. *holds out arms and stares with a 'well, there you have it' expression'* IT DOESNT GET ANY CLEARER THAN THAT. I wonder if the writers will make Lucas step down bc he cant be with someone who will never love him. Idk how Lucas will react honestly, Lucas's character is such a mystery to me I could never know what he would do in a situation that didnt involve setting up a perfectly romantic date or sweet talking someone with an annoyingly, unrealistic, perfectly understanding polite response.

Elizabeth was also super rude to the people she cares about in this episode. The way she talked to Rosemary. First, she didnt like hearing what Rosemary had to say, which implies that she may have been blaming Nathan for Jack's death. That is such a horrible thing to hold against someone. I mean I could understand why she would feel that way but just for a moment. I mean she should understand how completely wrong and irrational that thought process is and that she shouldnt blame Nathan. TWO, then she had the nerve to tell Rosemary something like 'why would you think that comment would help me right now'. Wow Elizabeth. Gee, maybe she's saying the truth and she's also your friend and just trying to talk things through and give her opinion as a way to help you through your difficult situation. God forbid she doesnt say the perfect thing that you needed to hear at that time, she can't read your mind. I thought that was incredibly rude. It hurt to see Rosemary hurt. And then later she told her that she should leave her house. *SCOFF* man, she was really hitting Rosemary hard this episode. If I were in Rosemary's shoes, yes I would be hurt, but I think I would mostly be understanding of what Elizabeth might be going through and not take anything personally. E's lucky that Rose is such a good friend. OH! What Rosemary told Nathan in the library! She totally implied with her little metaphor comparison that Nathan was making Elizabeth unhappy by getting in the way of true love, i.e. Lucas and Elizabeth. I-- wow! Everyone is against this man. I'm so glad that Nathan stands firm. I mean he knows that Elizabeth feels strongly for him based off her reactions to his honesty with her and how she never denies anything and just runs away. I mean, it's plain as day. Let's not forget the *speechless gaze into each other's eyes* 'I can't' from Honestly, Elizabeth.

I think that's it regarding the love triangle. I absolutely despise the Faith and Carson relationship. And I cant believe they made him say, come with me to Baltimore and we can see in a year if we want to get married. That is so dumb. He just asked Faith to drop everything and leave her life in Hope Valley for a 'I might break up with you in a year' situation. Dumb. This is definitely out of character for Carson. It's obvious the writers are just trying to get rid of him and make him not be missed by the audience. They clearly want us to favor Faith, but she couldnt be more annoying honestly. I wish she were leaving and Carson would stay in Hope Valley. But whatever.

I dont like how every side plot seems to be about some couple's budding relationship. I mean aside from the love triangle, we have Florence and Ned, Molly and Bill, Clara and Jesse (though not a budding relationship, it's still all about their relationship) and now Rachel and Christopher and oh yes also Fiona and whoever that guy is and wow I'm still missing Faith and Carson. Thats 6 other romantic relationships in the show (not including the also important one of Rosemary and Lee) and I'm probably leaving one out. Oh yes, now possibly Allie and Paul. 7. Seven relationship side plots!!! Omg I'm going crazy!! They need to learn how to write some actual plot! What happened to town problems and family drama! Thank goodness we have Henry Gowen and his son (cant believe I just complimented that out of nowhere concept but hey) and the oil thing with Lucas and Henry, barely ever a plot line. This show needs better writing. There's no glue holding the town together and even when there is, it's so small or happens so fast that it doesnt have any long lasting and meaningful affect.

If I weren't so invested in Elizabeth's plotline and in need of some wholesome tv, I would have stopped watching a long time ago. Oh and the last thing. The mention of Abigail. I'm so glad Henry mentioned her because she was very important to him and his character growth. His character arc is one of the saving graces of the show and it needs to be given more attention.

Okay in short, Elizabeth was hecka rude, Nathan is wonderful and so was that office scene. We also stan Allie. Next week's episode also looks like a dud and I dont think much will happen.

#when calls the heart live #when calls the heart season 8 #when calls the heart #wcth

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ditch-witches · 4 years

Text

Beginner's Luck (Dean-Charles Chapman Smut)

requested: yes/no (your requests are everything to us! send us your monkey brain, sad boy hours, thot thoughts, etc. and we’ll try our absolute best to deliver!)

thank you for the request @obsessedwithfandomsx!

pairing: Dean-Charles Chapman x reader

warnings: smut, fluff, slow burn asf. (im so sorry)

word count: 2,197

a/n: Hello dear readers. Resident Dean stan, Grayce, here! I hope everyone had a safe weekend and I wish everyone luck in this upcoming week! I got super carried away with this for no reason (maybe it’s because it’s my birthday and I’m emo) so I hope y'all enjoy it! Happy reading!

You wrung your hands as your nerves began to build while thinking about the situation in front of you. There was Dean across the room, chatting with some friends and seemingly carefree with the night as his oyster. You watched him laugh at a joke, your mouth curling into a smile at the sight out of instinct. His laugh was contagious, even if you couldn’t hear it.

Tonight was the night. The two of you had declared it the week before and under Dean’s nose, you stressed and planned to no end. It was your first time, not just with him, but ever. He was aware of this, of course, but after finding out that he had been with someone before you, it was clear you had competition. Even if it seemed like he wouldn’t be comparing the two of you, you would be. You bit your lip with a small chuckle, cursing yourself for coming into the metaphorical game so late. You rolled your eyes at yourself, attempting to contribute to the conversation in front of you.

Dean knocked the neck of his bottle against his friends before walking over to you. You jumped slightly as his arm found its way around your waist. He greeted your group before slyly leaning towards your ear. “Ready to get out of here? This is kind of lame…”

You snickered at his comment before parting from the group. He took your hand when you both left the house booming with music, lacing your fingers together. Dean smiled at you in the dark, your breath coming out in translucent clouds to mix with the light snowfall. You almost slipped on an ice patch, causing Dean to pull you closer to him and let out a light-hearted laugh. Sliding into the car beside him, your heart was beating a thousand times quicker than normal. The two of you had left parties together, spent the day together, etc., more times than you could count yet tonight it felt like you were a stranger in your own body.

Dean turned down the radio and moved his hand to rest on your thigh. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in your chest. His thumb rubbed against your jeans in a soothing manner. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, quirking a small smile in your direction before turning back to the road. You wet your lips, chewing on your words in an attempt to gather your response. It was a short distance to Dean’s apartment from his friend’s, causing your nerves to jump a bit higher.

“I’m nervous if I’m being completely honest.”

You could tell he was furrowing his brows in concentration, only getting to see glimpses of his reactions as you passed under street lamps. “About what, exactly?” His tone was even and more understanding than anything.

You took the hand that was on your thigh into your own, tucking your arm under his. “I don’t know. I guess I have the jitters about our first time…”

Dean let out a small chuckle. “That’s what you’re worried about?” The two of you made eye contact momentarily. “Sweetheart, we don’t have to if you-”

“No! No, I want to. It’s just… I’ve heard horror stories about people’s first times. I’m worried I’m not going to be good enough and that, I don’t know, it won’t be fun. It’s just my brain working against me.”

He thought for a moment about how to react. “How can I make it better?”

You leaned closer to his side, wishing the console wasn’t between the two of you. “Tell me it’s going to be okay.”

“I’ll make sure it’s okay. If you wanna stop at any point, let me know. We’ll go at your pace. It will be okay. I promise.” Your heart fluttered at his response and he pulled into his driveway.

“All right then. Let’s fuck.” He laughed at your comment, squeezing your hand.

Dean sat beside you on the bed, his hands in his lap as you fought to settled your nerves. You were grateful for his laid back approach to the situation, yet he still made it seem like your worries were valid. He reached a hand out to you, brushing your hair off your shoulder gently. You smirked slightly, still looking forward, your eyes concentrating on his light switch. His hand traveled to rest on your back, rubbing in slight circles before he leaned towards you to place a kiss on your cheek. You turned to him, looking into his soft eyes and relishing in this moment. You decided you didn’t want to go back. You were all in.

You closed the gap between the two of you rather abruptly, pulling him into a kiss and pushing one of your hands into his hair. He pulled you closer as one of his hands moved to settle on the back of your neck. The smell of his cologne invaded your senses, the familiarity of it in a situation like this put you further at ease. You broke away from him to push his jacket off his shoulders and you both moved further on the bed. You found yourself sitting cross-legged in front of Dean, attempting not to make the situation any more awkward than it already was. He smiled at you, pressing his lips against yours again as you tugged at the hem of his shirt. You had seen him shirtless plenty of times, but at this moment, he was different. He was unexplored terrain to you, just as he was treating you like a new piece of art, worried to bend an edge or wrinkle beyond repair.

He helped you remove your shirt as well and you struggled not to cover your chest, but Dean’s soft expression gave you the confidence to be vulnerable to him. His hands rested on your hips as he kissed you with as much passion as he could muster, sighing into each brush of contact he had with you. You broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his as your heart hammered in his chest. You took one of his hands in yours, catching your breath momentarily.

“You are absolutely gorgeous, you know?” He whispered, leaning back from you to send you a small smile.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Stop being weird and grab my boob, Dean.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just really excited,” he said with an almost childlike expression. You snorted at his enthusiasm, causing him to laugh. He pressed his lips against yours, smiling behind the action. He couldn’t help himself. You pulled his hand up to settle against your breast, and in a switch, he was back to gentle caresses and taking things one step at a time. One of your hands knotted in his hair as his warm breath brushed against your cheek. You held onto his forearm softly as he slipped his hand between the fabric of your bra and your skin. You moaned against his lips, mentally cursing yourself at the sound, but it seemed to egg Dean on as he deepened your kiss. You leaned back into the pillows, pulling Dean with you as you both buried yourselves in the covers. “Are you still okay?” Dean murmured, tucking one of his arms beneath yours.

“I’m fine. I promise. I’ll scream bloody murder if I’m not,” you lightly joked.

He smiled down at you, brushing his nose against yours slightly. “Okay, deal.” You kissed him lightly before wrapping a leg around one of his, bringing him flush against you. His teeth grazed against your bottom lip before you reached between the two of you, unbuttoning your jeans. He leaned back to watch your actions, his pupils larger and almost animalistic. He withdrew from you, resting back on his knees, helping to drag your jeans down your hips. You sat up to meet him, your hands trailing down his chest towards his zipper as well. His hands played with the ends of your hair, his lips finding your collarbone and placing light kisses while nipping at the skin. You slipped your hand behind the fabric of his boxers and began to palm him, but he caught your wrist in the process. “You don’t have to do that.”

You furrowed your brows at him. “I want to.”

“No, I mean,” he bit back a smile, “I’m ready when you are.”

You attempted to hide the taken aback reaction you registered, your face heating up. “oH.”

He held your face in his hands and you rested yours on his hips now. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush,” he leered and you rolled your eyes, causing him to laugh. He loved it when you did that for some reason. You brought him down with you to lie between your legs. You bit your lip slightly looking at him.

“Go slow, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. Are you ready?” You exhaled and nodded rather quickly. The two of you fumbled around in a mess of giggling attempting to get both your underwear and his boxers off without ruining the moment. “I’ll be gentle,” he finally said, angling himself towards you.

“Ew,” you nervously tittered in response. You were on the verge of resorting to humor to cover your anxiety.

“Are you sure?” He asked once again, lifting his eyes to yours and you exhaled again nodding. “It’s okay. Relax,” he hummed softly, his eyes looking to yours for any sign of retreat.

“I’m ready. I trust you.” He pressed his lips to yours before shifting his weight from the hand that was holding him up to the other. “Ow!” You barked. Dean froze in his position, eyes widening as he searched your face. “I’m joking,” you leered, biting back the wicked grin spreading across your face.

His shoulders fell slightly in relief and he fought not to roll his eyes. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack and it’ll be Gerald’s Game all over again.” You couldn’t help but snicker, now feeling more relaxed in his arms. You nodded at him one last time to give him the go-ahead and he pushed himself into you, waiting for you to adjust to him. You groaned slightly, the pressure of him a foreign feeling but surprisingly not as painful as you had been warned it would be. You reached up to bring his lips to yours as he began moving. You began to feel every inch of him in you as his hips ground against yours. His lips left yours to press against your jaw and your ear, one of his hands interlocking with yours, binding the two of you further together in the act.

“I haven’t screamed bloody murder yet,” you said, almost congratulating him, causing him to let out a low chuckle as your eyes found his.

“I love that you’re still a minx even while you’re under me,” he added rather darkly and you laughed.

“You bring out the best in me, D,” you unintentionally moaned. He grinned before sealing your lips together in a sloppy example of his love as he quickened his pace ever so slightly. You had a feeling he was close, so you began to grind into him as well, wanting to find the right position so you could join him. He noticed your attempt, burying himself in your neck, driving himself deeper into you, causing you to let out a small whimper as your hands plunged into his dark curls. His movements brought a feeling of tension within you. Getting to your orgasm was like feeling a distant sneeze creeping up your nose. Dean began to ride you with less of a rhythmic pace. You pulled him back to look at you as he brought you closer to the edge. He somehow looked at you with so much longing in this moment of passion that you fought not to tell him you loved him. With every movement, a feeling of relief began to spread through your body and before you knew it, you fists were tightening in his hair, head falling back in pleasure. You swore you saw him grin before you shut your eyes to ride out the rest of your ecstasy. Breathlessly, he pulled out of you, jerking himself off a few times before finishing as well. The two of you were a panting mess as he lowered himself on the bed beside you.

You laid your head against his chest, the only sound in the room to you being his heartbeat as his hand softly ran up and down your back. He took your hand in his, examining your palm, brushing his thumb against your heartline. “Thank you,” you sighed. It began to sink in that Dean would now be carrying around a piece of you with him for the rest of his life.

“You act like you’re the only one who benefitted from that,” he answered with a short chuckle. The vibration of his accent in his chest was music to your ears.

You scoffed. “Just take my gratitude, dammit.” He laughed again at your response. “Now what do we do?”

“We could take a shower?” He offered.

“I love your mind,” you quipped.

#dean charles chapman #dean charles chapman x reader #dean charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman smut #dean x reader #1917 imagines #1917 #couple #imagines #oneshot #virginity #smut #dean charles chapman fluff #lance corporal blake x reader #lance corporal blake #tom blake x reader #tommen baratheon #thomas blake

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rynhaswritersblock · 4 years

Text

swing and a kiss | p.p.

a/n: do y'all like my play on words. like... swing and a miss... but. okay you get it

summary: crushes from english class and a *touch* of ptsd turn into a new form of transportation, messy rooftop shenanigans, and a lecture from one (1) tony stark

warnings: hi i turned y/n into the stereotypical book nerd who's really pretty and smart and shit (aka rory gilmore) because we all like to dream don't we? 🚨🚨🚨🚨 ALSO THE READER DEALS WITH PTSD FROM A CAR CRASH THIS IS YOUR WARNING IN CASE IT MAY BE A TRIGGER (it's really not too descriptive i think BUT STILL)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🚨🚨🚨🚨

+ + +

"just take the car, honey."

sure. simple. just grab the keys and slide into the driver's seat.

no biggie.

you stand in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at the small black car parked idly along the street. a few people walk past you, barely glancing at you in your silently panicked state.

it's not like you were a horrible driver. it was just that simply sitting back down in a car after nearing losing your life in a car crash last time you drove was just a tad bit difficult.

the screech of tires burning against the concrete fills your head, the sound making your skull fill with pressure. just breathe just breathe just breathe.

you clench the keys in your hand and scrunch your eyes shut, forgetting about how stupid you look and trying to get rid of the sensory overload from the flashback. you see the black van tear in front of you, speeding through the intersection right as you were crossing it, hitting your car with a shattering impact. an overwhelming sense of dizziness comes over you and you open your eyes, gasping for air as you stumble and feel yourself slip into unconsciousness.

"woah-! are you okay?"

a gasp falls from your lips and you jolt out of shock, looking up. wide white eyes blink at you.

"shit," you whisper, gulping. "uh, sorry."

the hero in red and blue helps you up, and it's then that you realize that he'd caught you from falling and whacking your head against the hard concrete. "no problem, it's, uh, it's my job."

as you try to regain your senses, spider-man, peter, stares at you, feeling flustered and helpless.

y/n l/n. from english class.

peter, ever the observer, always found himself resting his bored gaze on you. how you took the most attentive and organized notes, how your glasses would sometimes slip off of your face, how as soon as the teacher gave you free time, you'd immediately stuff your nose in a book (which would always be a different book every time). he'd even read one of your papers you'd accidentally left behind and fell in love with the way you worded each sentence and how it flowed so effortlessly and intelligently. you were blessed with the power of words that, along with your looks, had peter caught up in your spell.

so maybe he had a bit of a crush.

but, as ned always reminded him, "peter, you fall in love with a new girl every two weeks. don't get too caught up over her."

yet here peter was, not only caught up over you, but having- quite literally- caught you.

you brush yourself off, clearing your throat. peter snaps out of his trance, sucking in a breath and looking at you. "is this your car?"

"oh," you breathe, glancing back at it, "yeah, um. i've just got like a... touch of ptsd with cars, or something, so that's..."

you chew on your lip as spider-man looks at you, the eyes of his mask wide as he nods. "oh, i'm sorry about that... do you need a lift?"

well that was an idea.

peter sees the surprised look on your face and immediately regrets ever opening his mouth.

"could you?" you ask.

oh.

oh!

"yeah, yeah, definitely," he nods, a bit eagerly, looking around with his hands on his hips. "where did you, uh, where'd you need to go?"

"stark industries."

peter practically chokes. "s-stark industries? what do you-"

"oh, i just have a quick meeting with mr. stark. tomorrow's my first day interning for him, so he just wanted to prep me beforehand," you nod.

your mind drifts to the cute boy from english- peter parker- and how he also interned with mr. stark. you also think about how mj would tease you about the possibility of having secret makeout sessions with him in the janitor's closet of stark industries and get flustered, pushing her voice away.

suddenly, peter can only think of two things: one, how sad it was that you had a panic attack before your meeting for mr. stark, and two, how incredibly difficult it was going to be to cover up the fact that he didn't actually intern for mr. stark.

"oh, cool! yeah i uh, i work with him. he made my suit," peter blurts. you crack a small smile at him. "anyways, just... hold on tight."

you nod and the hero steps to you, looking at you cautiously before gently wrapping an arm around your waist. your legs wrap around his torso and suddenly you're flying through the brisk new york air, face stuffed into the crook of spider-man's neck as he swings you from building to building.

a small chuckle vibrates from his chest and makes you feel warm. you pull your face from his neck to peek at the view, gasping as you see just how fast you're moving and how gorgeous new york looks from high up.

"holy shit," you mutter.

peter catches the slight tremble in your voice and holds you tighter. "don't worry, i've got you."

"you'd better," you laugh, stomach twisting from nervous excitement. "i can't believe i'm handling this better than sitting in a car."

the boyish laugh that exerts from spider-man sounds far too familiar and it makes your stomach twist again, but in a different way. a good way.

you weren't stupid.

even though you'd never actually spoken to peter parker, you'd always hear the laugh he let out occasionally during class, louder than any word you'd ever heard him speak. the sound became music to your ears, and anytime anyone said a joke you'd immediately perk up, listening carefully to hear that laugh in the crowd of your class' noise.

so, according to your suspicions... spider-man is the cute boy from english. peter parker.

you smile to yourself, letting your eyes drift from the buildings and instead towards the sky, watching as the colors change in front of you. "holy shit, peter, look at the sky."

the grip on you loosens slightly and you gasp, the noise making peter regain both his composure and hold on you. heavy breaths fall from your lips as you stare at the boy, heart racing as he suddenly lands the two of you on the roof of a building.

you step back, feeling weird standing on the hard concrete after soaring through the air, but mainly confused. "why are we-"

"how do you know my name?"

you relax slightly. "so you are peter parker."

his hand goes to his head, pulling off the mask and shaking out his curls. your stomach flutters at the sight. a heavy breath exerts from his mouth as he looks at you, eyebrows furrowed. "but how did you-"

"your laugh," you say, smiling slightly at the bewildered expression on his face. "you almost never speak, but sometimes, every once in a while, you'll laugh in class and it just... i don't know. i guess i just associated it with you because we've never spoken, so..."

peter stares at you, processing the information. "you pay attention to me?"

your face burns and you give him a look. "don't act like you're not special, parker," you gesture towards the suit, looking him over.

"okay, but you didn't know about this until a few minutes ago," he smiles, cocking his head slightly.

"peter, don't make me say it out loud."

all the boy does is let out a laugh, but it's not the same loud one. it's smaller, more like a satisfied humph as he shakes his head at the ground. not wanting to meet his gaze again, you look out at the sky, a bright mix of oranges and reds, littered with bubblegum pink clouds.

peter looks at you and follows your gaze to the sky and gasps, standing next to you. "so that's what you said to look at."

"yeah, dummy."

there's that laugh again. he nudges you in the stomach and you gape, shoving him back until the two of you break into a fit of playful shoves and giggles. he pokes you in the stomach and you yelp, stepping back.

your heart falls to your feet, a scream erupting from your throat, as well as peter's. "shit- y/n!"

the sensation of nothing underneath you makes everything blurry as the air folds around you and pulls you down towards the ground, taking you in and wrapping you in the blankets of oblivion.

or not.

you open your eyes to see a web tugging at your chest, peter standing on the side of the building and pulling on the web, bringing you back to the roof. a sigh falls from your lips as your feet touch the side of the building and peter's hand wraps around your wrist. with a final pull, peter helps you back onto the surface.

you grab him by the shoulder, stepping forward and feeling something brush against your lips.

holy shit.

it hits you that you and peter just accidentally kissed, but just after, a mountain of metaphorical boulders plummets into you, yelling hey, you almost just died, too!

peter's hand is still on your wrist as he looks at you with wide eyes. he gulps. "are- um- are you okay?"

"yeah, i'm okay, are you okay?"

his face contorts, confusion. "yeah, i'm fine, i'm not the one who fell off the building but..."

you smile and he cuts himself off, looking at you nervously.

"and we somehow kissed?"

"yeah," you breathe. you look down to see your arms still intertwined like old tree branches, holding onto each other as time rolls away like rugs. you squeeze his arm and he gives you a look, to which you nod.

and this time it wasn't a simple brush against your lips, but a gentle kiss, his lips pressed to yours firmly. your eyes flutter shut and you tilt your head slightly, the branches of your arms twisting around each other's bodies and holding the other close until air runs out. you pull away, foreheads pressed together as you let out a breath.

when you open your eyes, peter has a shit-eating grin on his face.

"what?"

"you just keep falling for me today, don't you?"

you step back from him, laughing and shaking your head. "get over yourself. i have a meeting in five minutes, parker."

peter's eyes blow up, chocolatey irises filled with shock, mouth falling agape. "five minutes? we gotta go!"

+ + +

"ah, the teens of the night."

you freeze, breath catching in your throat. peter looks over at you, perplexed expression matching yours.

tony scoffs. "look at that."

he points behind him to the tv playing the news. pictures of peter saving you from falling- even one of your bodies molded together as you kiss- are on display.

"just minutes ago, a bystander caught spider-man saving a girl from falling off of the roof of an apartment building on 23rd street. and, not only was the hero not wearing his usual mask, but the miraculous move ended in a kiss! now to steve, on the scene with the bystander," the reporter states.

the video shifts to in front of the building of the incident, an middle aged man standing next to a brightly smiling old woman. "thank you, rebecca. i'm here with evangeline davis, who witnessed the incident. evangeline, describe to us what you saw."

"thank you, steve," the old woman croons, poking the man playfully before grabbing the microphone out of his hands. "i was just outside taking pictures of my flowers when i heard a scream and saw this girl falling off the roof and spider-man saving her. you see, my grandchildren recently gave me a lesson on how to use the new cell phone i got for christmas and i like sharing my garden on facebook. i've got this new rose shrub that recently flowered and, might i add, looks much better than my friend darlene's, who-"

"ma'am, if you could just-"

"right. yes. i started taking pictures, since i had my phone out, and all of a sudden the girl was saved and they were kissing! from what i could see, spider-man looked like a very attractive young man-"

despite the situation, you let out a small snort, peter's face burning as his eyes bore into the screen.

"- but i don't think my camera skills were good enough to catch everything."

the tv pauses and your attention turns back to tony, the quiet frustration on his face slightly terrifying.

especially since this was your first real life encounter with the man.

"care to explain yourselves?"

you and peter stood there awkwardly as your sentences fumbled over each other's, nervous glances over at each other as you managed to describe the whole backstory. how you maybe had crushes on each other, and then how you needed a lift because of your ptsd (which was a very uncomfortable part of the explanation that peter definitely let you explain since he didn't want to overstep), and how you recognized his voice and that led to the two of you talking and, eventually, kissing on the rooftop. and how you fell off the roof.

an awkward nothingness fills the air as tony stares out the window, hand wrapped over his scruff in concentration. the man sucks in a sharp breath and turns to the two of you.

"alright. peter: i should've known you'd pull a stunt like this. we'll talk later."

peter, wide eyed, looks back and forth between you and tony and starts gesturing towards the door. "do i- am i supposed to-"

"y/n," mr. stark cuts the boy off, attention turned to you, "firstly, well... welcome to the stark industries team. i'll be adding a section pertaining to this whole spiel onto your contract. we should also probably do something about that ptsd... anyways. both of you: cute love story, really, but be more responsible. as in, maybe don't take off your mask in public and if you do, don't attract attention to yourselves by falling off the roof. makes my job harder. it also risks your life, so."

the two of you nod viciously, grateful for the lecture as opposed to a heated yelling session. "we're really sorry, mr. stark-"

"i accept your apology, mr. parker, now get out of my office."

peter, expression still as rigid and startled as ever, begins stuttering. "o-okay, yes, of course, mr. stark. have a, um, have a great day."

tony nods, raising a hand at him as peter almost trips, walking towards the door and giving you a nervous yet knowing smile as he shuts the door. you return the smile, tight lipped, before turning to the man sitting at the desk. "mr. stark, i'm so-"

"no need," he shakes his head, gesturing for you to sit down. you do. "peter's a good kid and, quite frankly, i think you're a good fit for him, based off of what i've seen."

your face burns. "thank you, mr. stark. i promise it won't happen again and we definitely won't pull anything... you know... while we're here. and from what i'm assuming, i'm gonna be a bit to busy running around for you to deal with his antics."

tony smirks at you proudly and nods.

"so, about your internship."

+ + +

was feeling a bit spunky and decided to make a few parts a little more spicy with ~figurative language~ who am i

don't forget to unstan ansel elgort for clear skin ✨

#peter parker #tom holland #peter parker imagines #marvel #mcu #spiderman #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #fanfic #fluff #writing #peter #parker #thomas holland

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ravencromwell · 4 years

Text

On Rage and Complexity interwoven with disability and queerness as filtered through Sarah Gailey's "maybe novel"

I've drifted into posting much of my more personal/metaish content on my dreamwidth In an effort to try and be better about cross-posting, thought I'd put a bit of meta up here first for a change.

We lament, often and at great length, about the kind of tales we'd like to see: with more diverse characters, yes, but also well-rounded diverse characters. As Liz Bourke concisely opined recently :

It’s troubling, sometimes, how much the issue of “good representation”—and the arguments around it—slides towards a pervasive sense that creators must depict people who are good and right and do right. It’s not necessarily an explicit dictate, but there’s an unspoken undercurrent, a sense that to portray ugliness, unlikeability, fury—to portray people who have responded to suffering with cruelty and bitterness and rage—is to be complicit in one’s own vilification. And to be vulnerable. Justify your existence is the sea we swim in, always against the current.

To be unmarked by compromise, to be without sharp edges that sometimes cut even when you don’t want them to—because the world is what it is, and sometimes what it is teaches you that the best defence against being hurt by cruelty is a really quick offense—is to either be very young or hardly human. But when we come to fictional portrayals, well… As you know, Bob, Bob gets to be seen as a difficult genius, where Alice is seen as a bitch or a Mary Sue.

And as insightful as that essay is, I'd argue that a central factor it overlooks, or doesn't articulate as well as I would like, is that the more intersections of marginalization your identity rests upon, the more that unspoken pressure kicks in. I certainly feel and see it, as both a queer and disabled person, and I have friends who feel that weight even more heavily--that internal voice policing their own writing even stronger when they're brown and/or queer and/or coming from decolonized places; even heavier if/when they and their compatriots are still untangling the effects of colonialism and modern neoimperalism. And so it becomes vitally imperative for all of us, using whatever privilege we have to work in concert to expand what characters can be portrayed in mainstream fiction. And oh, aint that an easy proclamation to make; doing the work, though, is far harder.

So y'all can imagine my overwelming delight when the Bourke essay and twitter convo that sparked it--linked to in essay and so very much worth a scan--dropped on the same week as my introduction to Sarah Gailey's maybe book Every bit of what I read of Gailey's makes my love of her work slowly, steadily increase, but to be perfectly honest, this's probably my favorite thing of hers so far. It's the thing that tugs sharpest at my heart, that I see so much of my own experience reflected in, and it's only two fuckin chapters in But even if Gailey never writes another word of this--for which a large chunk of me will mourn--, it'll still be one of the most special things I've encountered for being, in western lit terms, a masterclass in putting the characters we wanna see in the world. (I insert that caveat because I know well that folks like Viet Thanh Nguyen are doing astonishing, under-appreciated work in nonwestern litfic. But the genres I'm most familiar with, western scifi and fantasy, have a long way to go to catch up.)

There are, so far, four--maybe five? I can't quite tell--characters in this novel. Three of 'em have serious, life-changing disabilities, and one of them is delightfully, tragically queer. And they're all allowed to be wonderfully vicious and complicated. Just look at something like:

Cory Jefferson is a hunched-over curled-up boy with bones too long for his body and a jaw you could use to shovel the ashes out of a fireplace. His chest has the caved-in look that comes with growing tall before you can grow wide, and his hair is long enough to want cutting but not long enough to look like it’s long on purpose. His hoodie sleeves have holes in them, and the bottoms of his jeans are frayed from walking, and all his fingers are missing, cut off at the bottom knuckle a year ago on a night he can’t remember no matter how many Thursdays he spends looking back and forth between Piper and Ethan.

"I think we should go back," Piper says. She’s chewing on her thumb, and Cory is staring at her thumb while she chews on it, probably because that used to be his nervous tic. Piper used to nag him about it.

Piper Durham has a spine as straight as a plumb-line dropped down a well. Her dark hair falls past her shoulders, less straight than it used to be, and with a few strands of white that weren’t there before. She’s thin enough to look hollow, and pale enough to look scared. She wears large black sunglasses with scratched-up lenses. She wears them because they cover up the holes where her eyes used to be, back before the night a year ago that she can’t remember no matter how many Thursdays she spends chewing on her thumb.

"That’s a bad idea,” Cory snaps. “That’s the worst bad idea I’ve ever heard, and every time you bring it up you sound stupider."

"I don’t hear either of you coming up with something smarter,"Piper snaps back, and then she immediately closes her mouth. She’s biting her tongue, literally biting it, you can see her doing it, and then she flinches again and stops doing that, because biting her tongue is even worse than what she said.

Ethan’s hands rise from his lap. After a silent moment, Cory translates for him, so Piper can hear. "Ethan says it’s okay. He says not to worry about it. He says he’s used to people saying stuff like that."

"Sorry," Piper whispers.

Across from her, in his own folding chair, Ethan signs it’s okay again. Cory doesn’t translate this time, and the decision not to translate is a hateful one. He watches with narrowed eyes as Piper, who can’t see Ethan’s hands and will never see them again, returns to chewing on her thumb.

Ethan rests his square-fingered hands on his crossed legs and sits back in his chair, his every movement controlled. Some would call him poised. Some would call him that. He wears dark jeans, like always, and a button-down shirt, like always. His fingernails are short and clean, and his sandy-blonde hair is short and clean, and his shoes are polished and his clothes are pressed. He wears a clear plastic face mask to help heal the skin grafts on his face — his face, which was cut away from his skull in one tidy sheet. He does not speak because he has not had a tongue for a year, not since the night he lost his face, which is a night he can not remember no matter how many Thursdays he spends watching Cory and Piper hate each other.

These are people not made saintly by their experiences, who fuck up and apologize, and honestly still fuck up. But who're trying, in their deeply jaded fashion, to show solidarity after this horrific experience they've all been through. They have so many rough edges between them that it'd be impossible to navigate a room between them without cutting yourself to ribbons. Three disabled characters, never put on pedestals, allowed to be as complex as any able-bodied person. It's something still so astonishingly rare that it brought me to weeping this afternoon and meant more than I can say.

And to have these three disabled characters get language this evocative and gorgeous--to have Ethan dress so sharply! when to so many people disability translates to a disconnect from cultural touchstones like fashion. As someone who loves and wants to adopt men's fashion, that, too, meant so much. Every word of this is just so lush! I can't decide whether it's the description of Piper's spine or Cory's caved-in look that comes from growing tall before you can grow wide I love most as a descriptive passage, but to see disabled characters get this kind of attention is breathtaking.

And then there's this description of queerness, from our resident ghost:

The girls fascinated me in death the same way they had in life. For all my sixteen years alive, I was hypnotized by the way a girl can move through a room fast and subtle, like a secret moving through a church during service. The way girls laughed, the way they wrapped their hands around things they wanted to own, they way their eyes got sharp when they were angry. The way they smelled. Boys always seemed the same to me, all of them echoes of each other, all of them saying the same three sentences over and over again, all of them looking at each other with the same eyes. I could never tell the difference between them, not really. But girls. Girls.

It mattered to me while I was alive, but it didn’t make a difference in the way I lived my life, which was a regret I chewed on when I’d worn my other regrets into pulp. The town was small, and everyone knew everyone, and by the time I knew I wasn’t the only girl who watched girls the way I did, I’d been dead for too long to do anything about it. If I knew then what I know now, maybe I would have said something to Molly Two-tone, whose real name was Molly Tutonne and who had straight black hair that fell between her shoulderblades as black as roofing tar, who had bright green eyes and a laugh that you could hear from a block away. Molly Two-tone, who came to my house after I died and stood in the kitchen and whispered that if I was there and if I could hear her, she wanted me to know that she wished she’d kissed me when she had the chance.

There wasn’t a thing I could do to let her know I’d heard her. All I could do was watch her cry, and then watch her leave, closing the door quiet as she could when she went. She didn’t ever come back again.

God, that description guts me every damn time. There're so many of us for whom that metaphor applies: death can be substituted for disapproval or fear or a million other things that separate us from our queerness. I don't know if there's any way for our ghost to have a happy ending, or even something close to catharsis, but Gailey confronts the mess and complication of queerness in ways I've rarely seen.

And getting back to the original point of marginalized characters not being allowed to be cruel, look at this fucking gem on Piper:

Maybe I knew, when Piper walked in with Cory and Ethan. Maybe I knew she was Piper’s granddaughter. Or maybe I saw Piper and thought, for a breath-held instant, that Molly had come back to see me again. I lost track of time more and more often as the years went on, forgetting sometimes how far I was from my life. Forgetting that it had happened one hundred years before, and not just that instant.

When Piper eased the front door open and stepped inside, waving her hand in front of her face to ward off cobwebs, she looked just like Molly — that long black hair and those jewel-bright eyes, and a mouth with a smile hidden at the corners of it. But once the moment of hope melted away, I could see the differences between Piper and her grandmother, and there were plenty of them. And then two boys walked in behind her, and they shut the door.

Piper turned to face them, and she let that hidden smile loose, and it was a different kind of smile than I’d ever seen on Molly’s face — bright and sharp and cruel, ready to have that cruelty dialed up as far as it needed to go. When I saw that smile on Piper’s face, I knew.

I knew that she was nothing like Molly at all.

This's a character who is gonna shortly be disabled, and she's allowed all her sharp edges and I will never fucking be over it. This's a novel of sharp edges, not pulling a punch in deference to its subject matter, not doing a thing to make its readers comfortable or reassured. It's all the ferocity horror should be, with probably my favorite insight being:

When there is a house that no one will ever live in again, people bring their secrets to it. They hide things there — treasures and secrets and sins and violence and love. They turn it into a place to be cruel to each other, because they’re afraid, and fear slaps a dial onto cruelty and turns it up as high as it can go. They turn it into a place to want each other, because fear puts a dial onto want, too. They turn it into what it is, and without them, a house is just a house, no matter what happened there. It’s just empty.

a two-chapter masterclass in writing representation we wanna see.

I was a disabled child told to be kind, not to make folk nervous or bristle at their pity. To know my limitations and stay quiet, not rock the boat and I wouldn't be hurt or scorned more than was expected for my disability. They're lessons I'm spending much of my twenties unknotting, and this vicious, many-toothed novel has wrapped itself round my heart even in its infancy.

#book babbling #disability stuff #queer stuff #my meta #sarah gailey

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written-rebellion · 6 years

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Perfect Distractions

A/N: @ all the people who were worried Jamie would be all aimless and depressed on campus, y'all know what’s up LOL

Jamie is feeling the weight of it all, Claire hasn’t called in weeks, and as always, all the facts of this fanfic are contrived specifically to make fluffy university/modern-day au scenarios. Please let me know what you think!

Part One: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] | Part Two: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Three: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Four: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Five: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Six: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Seven: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Eight: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Nine: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Ten: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Eleven: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] |

Part Twelve: Message Received | Chapter 1

Slim fingers were skimming down his bare arm as tuneless humming pulled him slowly out of sleep.

“Sassenach?”

He was answered by tiny butterfly kisses brushing against his nape and between his shoulder blades. He shivered pleasantly, turning to meet his favourite shade of whisky.

“Hi,” she said softly, nudging his nose with hers.

“Mo chridhe,” he whispered, cupping her cheek before pulling her lips to his.

He couldn’t place the feeling – not that he ever could with any great certainty – but something desperate inside had him pressing his fingers into her skin, lips recklessly insisting against hers.

“What's the matter, love?” She was giggling. “Have any big plans today?”

“Hmm?” He pulled away to look at her, finally taking in the space around them.

“This isn’t yer room…”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“No, of course not.”

“This is—”

And just as the familiar scent of Lallybroch wafted past him, he woke up.

In his dorm room.

Alone.

“Go to class,” John ordered from somewhere nearby.

Well, nearly alone.

“Aye, ye dinna need to keep remindin’ me,” Jamie groaned, pushing his face into the pillow.

“Yes I do,” John called as he shut the door behind him.

Jamie stayed pressed into his bed a moment longer, trying to draw Dream-Claire back to him. But like John, she was gone for the day.

He reached for his phone on the nightstand, arm heavy and reluctant from sleep.

> Morning,

> Or, good night in yer case.

He waited for the small notification telling him the messages were delivered, but – like the last 20 or so he'd sent in the past few weeks – it never came.

She was in the thick of it now, he knew. She and Joe had spent a few days in Manila to acclimate themselves before driving to rural areas in a province called Cavite. Wherever they were, cell service was sparse or she was busy, but likely both. She’d spend most of the 6 weeks there and Jamie was feeling the weight of it all.

He hadn’t heard her voice or seen her face, save in pictures, for weeks.

But that didn’t stop him from texting her, a far cry from his attempt at not seeming too eager early in their courtship. Those blank little circles mocked him, telling him no – no matter how much he wished – she hadn’t seen any of his messages.

He knew her well enough to expect more exasperation than apology when all 28 messages finally reached her. She’d roll her eyes at him, tease him about the sheer neediness of it all, and he was certain some sort of dog metaphor would be used.

But it didn’t matter what she said.

He just needed to see her.

By evening time, 28 had turned to 31. But only because the diner they had their first date in finally updated their beer selection and Jamie was sure she would want to know that.

“James Fraser, ye truly are a mess.” He sighed, running a tired hand down his face as he walked back to the dorms.

His ringtone barely made it through two notes before it was squashed against his ear.

“Claire?!”

“Ah, so she hasn’t called then,” Jenny’s pointed voice said through the phone.

“Nay,” Jamie said, matching her tone.

“And neither have you, brother.”

“What?”

“Ye haven’t called in weeks either.”

“Well, ye can imagine I’d rather keep this line open, ye ken?”

“Ye’re actin’ like a child, Jamie.” Never a spoonful of sugar type of person, his sister. “What would Claire say if she saw ye moping about like ye are.”

“Ye dinna ken I’m moping about!”

“Oh aye, I do. Ye like to think ye can hide whatever ye’re feeling but I’m no’ Claire. I can hear yer heart in yer voice alone.”

He made a grunting noise and Jenny sighed.

“This is her job aye? This is what she’s wanted to do since before she met ye.”

“I know! I just mi—"

“Miss her, I ken. But ye love her, no?”

Jamie blinked.

“O-of course.”

“And ye plan on spending yer life wi’ her?”

His face burned. Always trust a Fraser not to pull punches.

“...aye.”

“Then what’s a few weeks ye wee fool?! The world kens she’s just as mad about ye as ye are for her. She’ll come back to ye so just suck it up and wait.”

He was silent long enough for any other person to think he’d hung up, but not Jenny.

Then he chuckled.

“Ye’re quite enjoying my plight, aren’t ye?”

“I dinna ken what ye mean, dear brother.” Her voice was laced with a smile.

“Verra well, Jenny,” he said. “But if I can wait on Claire to call, surely ye can wait on mine, no?”

“No,” she said before hanging up.

Jamie shook his head and – though he thought against it – opened up his and Claire’s message history.

> I expect ye’ll be overwhelmed by the messages when ye get them. Apologies, lass. But, if ye read any at all, I hope it's this one. I love ye, and I’m proud of ye. I miss ye, aye, but I’ll be waiting right here for ye when ye return.

He nodded, resolved, and was about to slide his phone into his pocket when—

One by one, the checkmarks in the corner of his messages lit up and turned blue.

“Claire...?”

She was reading them.

Then, below what had essentially been his diary for the past few weeks, three tiny dots bubbled up.

He held his breath, waiting – as he had been for weeks – on her reply.

Read Chapter 2

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #perfect distractions au #wr writing #im iffy about where to end sunday's chapter #it's possible I'm getting a little too trigger happy with these cliffhangers #but that next part thoooo #tough one.

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vespaer77 · 6 years

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I Think It’s You

Summary:

A totally angsty fic written for the angstiest @reylo-week-2018 prompt ever: Wounds. Just sayin', set your phasers to angst, y'all, because I totally think I nailed it. I mean, it's a solid maybe.

Rating: General Audiences

"It's you, you know," Ben Solo groused at Rey.

"What?"

"This only happens when you're around. It's think it's you."

"Me??? Don't be ridiculous." He noticed she wouldn't make eye contact with him, though, preferring to keep herself engrossed with her hands as they rummaged through the medical field kit for a light bacta patch and a clean linen bandage. "Isn't that kind of peasant superstition beneath you?"

"Now you're just being rude." Not willing to let his point drop, he snatched the linen from her hand before she could even start unrolling it.

"Hey!"

"Look at this," he commanded, waggling the bound lump of cloth in the direction of his own face. "Look at it. Remember this?"

"Yes, Ben, I remember giving you that scar, stars forbid you allow me to forget. But if I recall you were trying to chop off certain parts of me as well and - oh yes! Didn't you have your own light saber?" She made a face and plucked the linen from his fingers. "Maybe one of us is just clearly superior in combat."

"Oh come on! We both know that I'm - that's just... that's - my shoulder! What about my shoulder, Rey?!"

"Same fight, doesn't count."

"Okay, fine. Exhibit B. The Throne Room of the Supremacy. Who brushed herself off and then went wandering around looking for, I don't know, escape shuttles or something like nothing happened?" He leaned forward for emphasis. "And who was still out cold on the floor?"

"Oh you can't be serious!" Her fists jabbed into her hips. "I am not responsible for what happened there - we both were, and just so you know I had a massive headache for three days!"

"Only three days, huh? Yeah. That's cute. And for the record, you were completely responsible. You reached for the saber."

"Ben, I am not having this argument with you again." She planted a palm forcibly against his chest and shoved him back into his seat to sit him upright.

"Alright, then how about this," he halted her by grasping her wrist. "Exhibit C - Tython."

Then: Exhibit C - Tython

"There," Rey had whispered to herself as she placed the finishing touches. There was great power in the ancient forge, where so many Jedi had come before her for generations, crafting their weapons and imbuing them with the strength and the purpose that could only be found in such a holy place. She hadn't made it ten steps down the crumbling stone stairs, however, when the familiar screams of TIE fighter engines shattered the tranquil serenity that clung to the ruins like old grey moss.

They'd recently gotten intel that the Order would try to take Tython. There was a lot to gain by such a maneuver, politically, and the world was steeped in the heady brew of time, old faith, and the Force. It was the kind of target that was likely a high priority item on Snoke's to-do list. It was the perfect opening move for a fledgling Supreme Leader that still had something to prove to his dead master, least of all to himself. And it was a fitting place to build her staff, considering it would also be the place where she'd put it to first use.

They'd ended up facing off in the ruins of the old Jedi Temple, specifically in the remains of an old bailey that encased what used to be a practice yard at one time. Their combat had been athletic and artistic and spectacular, but she could tell he hadn't been sleeping well. There had been dark circles under his eyes and he'd tired more quickly than she'd anticipated. Before she'd been pressured into dealing him a blow that would do more than just end their duel, he'd been toppled by a volley of Force, pushed backwards and off of his feet. She never even got the time to advance on him - the grassy, timeworn cobblestones that'd cushioned his landing gave out from beneath him, revealing the open, empty chasm of an old musty wine cellar beneath. She'd heard the resounding snap of his leg breaking from where she'd stood up top. It had signaled her to make a clean getaway before reinforcements arrived.

NOW

"Oh honestly," she chastised him, "there was no possible way either one of us could have known the ground we were on was hollow."

"I'm not saying you knew, Rey, I'm saying you're cursed."

"Oh come off it," she muttered, monotone, as she squinted and took a swab to the wound to clean it. "There's no such thing as curses."

"Oh really? Okay! OW!"

"Stop squirming! And stop being a baby!"

He shot her a look so piercing and so serious he could have convinced a cleric there was no Maker.

"You are cursed. I give you Exhibit D. Tatooine."

Then: Exhibit D - Tatooine

She could tell by the way his form was indistinct - his image blurry as if captured in motion - that something had been wrong. His voice had faded in and out and had sounded canned and distant. And urgent.

For months they'd been talking in secret. At first she'd wanted nothing more to do with him, and rightly so. Contact with him was risky, even through their private bond, and she'd bore no pretense of having any trust in him. But he'd been so incessant. To the point of badgering, really. Which was sort of his modus operandi. There had been things they'd both learned during their time on Tython... outside of how to survive a fifteen foot fall. There were legends on Tython, and truths. Lessons. And ghosts. They'd both walked away from the planet with questions.

Metaphorically. Metaphorically walked away.

They'd both left the planet questioning their own faith, questioning things they'd thought they knew. Rey had had no teacher, and Ren had fundamentally disagreed with his for... reasons. There had been no one else to turn to. So... she'd opened the door.

Tatooine had been a good world to build a resistance base. It'd boasted a brutally marginal enough climate that no one really wanted to go looking for them there... let alone be there. And the desert had been an easy place to lose pursuers. It helped if one happened to be veteran desert dweller. But because Tatooine had such an iconic and easily recognizable landscape, Rey had chosen to speak with Ben either indoors or underground... or most often late at night.

When he'd called to her that day, however, it'd been early morning. Granted, time was relative from place to place, but the routine had definitely been interrupted. And the connection had been... frantic. Rushed, or forced. Panicked. She'd only been able to make out a few words.

"I can't..."

"...who I am anymore..."

"...don't want this..."

"It's not safe."

"... Hux...kill me..."

"Please help me!"

She'd drawn attention to herself when she'd leaped to her feet at the breakfast table, but not as much attention as the sentries at their posts. Their cries had come screeching across the buzzing static pouring from at least three other hand held transponders in the room. Chaos had erupted from there as the rebels knocked over cups and upended chairs in their haste to race for their gear and their weaponry. The Silencer had been spotted, and was incoming.

Rey had breached the surface just in time to watch the ship's black avian silhouette streak past their base with a high pitched whistle and bash belly first into the tawny, shifting sea of sand dunes. She'd flung a hand up to her eyes to shield them from the blinding rays of the planet's twin suns as a geyser of sand and flame and smoke spewed skyward from the wreckage.

She would never forget the sound he'd made as she'd closed the distance alongside their group of first responders, hurriedly dragging along canisters of fire suppressant foam. The way he'd wailed and choked in pain... she would never forget the blood that had soaked the whites of his eyes as he'd gazed at her in horror, begging for asylum. Begging for mercy.

Begging for safety.

NOW. Again.

"Ben," Rey sang his name, placing a gentle kiss on the freshly applied bacta patch. She still gave him a sideways glare, though, as she began winding the linen around his hand. "I will not let you profane my memory of that day. That was the best day of my life."

This mollified him slightly, but Ben Solo wasn't exactly known for letting things go without a fight.

"I'm just saying," he replied, "that I had never crashed a ship before I met you. And I've never had so many broken bones, I've lost count of the number of stitches I've received..."

"What can I say," she smiled, cocking her head to the side as she tied a knot in the bandage, "love hurts."

"It's not fair," he grumbled at her. "It's an imbalance. It's a disturbance in the Force - think of the Force, Rey."

"I'm fairly positive the Force knows you only burned your hand on the stove." She kissed his forehead as she stood.

"This was supposed to be a romantic meal, and now you've ruined it. With your stupid curse." He just stared at her and blinked expectantly, like there was something else she was supposed to say in response.

Without hesitation she tore off her shirt and let it fall to the floor in a soft heap. She tossed her hair about her shoulders and swiveled her hips with flourish.

"Then maybe we should just skip dinner, draw a bath, and enjoy dessert with a bottle of wine."

"I, um," he swallowed and stammered the way he always did at the sight of her naked breasts, "yes. That's definitely the will of the Force, yes."

Fin

#reyloweek2018 #reylo fanfic #reylo fan fiction #reylo fan fic

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candescentcalum · 7 years

Text

I Can’t Remember (Part 4)

Hey y'all! Sorry for taking so long to get this 4th and final part posted, I got a little busy the last couple days and couldn’t but its finally up! I want to say thank you to y'all for supporting my writing! This is one of my favorite thing I’ve written so far!

Y'all can read Part 1 here Part 2 here and Part 3 here

P.S. this last part is kind corny, like an ABC Family movie kinda corny lmao but I think it wraps up the story nicely.

Also I was kinda thinking about writing a prologue to this whole thing like on what happened the night of the party. Like you guys get the just of what happened based on what I told you in the story but I could write out exactly what did if y'all are interested in that?? Lemme know! Thanks again for the love!

Words: 1,546

Warnings: just language as usual!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, listen up!” you heard Ashton shout as you and Calum slipped into the Theta Chi house. Both Alpha Phi and Theta Chi were packed into the main entryway, making it a tight squeeze.

“We have some official business to discuss.” Ashton said to the crowd.

“Then why are they here?” Luke called out from the middle of the room.

“Because this business involves us too.” Tatum replied as she stepped out of the crowd to stand next to Ashton. You and Calum looked at each other with worried glances. You hoped this wasn’t about the two of you.

“Two of our own have gone rogue.” Ashton said as he pointed to you and Calum directly, moving his finger in a come here motion. You both pushed your way to the front of the crowd and noticed the dirty looks people were giving you. This was definitely about last night.

“A bit dramatic don’t you think Ash.” Calum muttered to Ashton, who just ignored him.

“We all know you two possibly slept together last night.” Ashton explained to you as the crowd of Theta’s booed. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“Tatum, are you really okay with this metaphoric public beheading here?” you pleaded with your best friend.

“I am.” Tatum said confidently.

“When Ashton messaged me on Facebook asking me if I knew anything about this it made me realize that this thing you two have going on is wrong. Our two presidents shouldn’t be running around with each other behind everyones backs.” the crowd cheered in agreement.

“Will you guys knock it off. What is this? An episode of Maury?” Calum called out to his peers.

“But I am still your best friend and I still love you.” Tatum said to you privately.

“I just hate the Theta’s a little more than I love you.” Tatum said honestly. You couldn’t blame her though. Before today, you were the same exact way.

“Also I’m making spaghetti for dinner if thats okay with you. I also wanted to do garlic bread but I didn’t know if that would be too much since it’s-”

“Tatum, not now.” you sighed.

“Sorry.” she whispered as she gestured for Ashton to continue on.

“Our two respective presidents have-”

“Okay but listen,” Calum interrupted.

“We didn’t actually sleep together. So mystery is solved, problem is now resolved, lets all get back to our normally scheduled activities.” Calum finished as he waved people away. No one moved.

“Not that simple buddy.” Ashton retorted as he clapped a hand on Calum’s shoulder.

“Maybe you guys didn’t do the dirty, but fact of the matter is, you two were hanging out all last night and all today.” Ashton reminded you.

“But is it really that bad if we hang out together?” You asked Ashton, an audible gasp coming from the crowd of greek members.

“You of all people should know how big of a deal this rivalry is Y/N.” Vanessa called.

“Yeah, if I would’ve known that Calum was your booty call I never would’ve supported it.” Mallory chimed in, the rest of your sorority sisters nodding in agreement.

“Booty call?” Calum asked in confusion. You waved him off.

“What’s so bad about hanging out with an Alpha for a little while? Huh boys?” Calum asked his brothers.

“We’re rivals.” Michael called out.

“We may be in a frat but that doesn’t mean we fraternize with the enemy Calum.” he finished. Looks of confusion were written across multiple peoples faces.

“Michael, that literally doesn’t even make sense.” Calum remarked, earning a few chuckles from his friends.

“It’s just a dumb rivalry.” you thought out loud, the entire room becoming eerily quiet.

“Just a dumb rivalry?” Tatum asks you.

“Says the girl who used to do anything to threaten the Theta’s way of life. This coming from the girl who snuck around the back of the Theta house and shut off their power so everyone would have to come to our party instead.”

“That was you?” Calum asked surprised.

“Well yeah, but-”

“The girl who once walked a mile in heels just because she wanted to get to the store first to buy the last keg just so the Theta’s couldn’t have it. The girl who-”

“Okay Tatum thats enough.” you said sternly.

“That was the old me.” you began.

“Look at us right now. You all say we’re all so different and we’re all such bitter enemies, but you all literally came together as one to rip apart Calum and I. Sure, it wasn’t for the greatest cause but you guys did it.” a few people nodded.

“And Michael,” Calum said as he stepped forward.

“I vividly remember you and Vanessa partnering on a bio project last semester. She would come round the house all the time and you got along perfectly well, you really hit it off.”

“But that was for school stuff not greek stuff.” Michael scoffed.

“Should it really matter?” Calum questioned.

“And Tatum,” you said as you turned around to face your best friend.

“You and Luke are both on the cheerleading team. I remember at a competition last year you flew with him as your one and only base. That takes a lot of trust and understanding to do that. Not something two ‘rivals’ could do.” you pointed out.

“She is right.” Tatum agreed.

“And I did actually have a great time stunting with you Luke.” she called out to him, Luke nodding in agreement.

“See? When we come together and see each other as people instead of enemies we can accomplish great things.” Calum stated.

“I know it’s tradition, but lets put this dumb rivalry behind us and and make new traditions together.” you said to your sorority sisters, all of them nodding in agreement.

“What do you say boys?” Calum asked his brothers as he slung an arm around your shoulder, grinning down at you. It took a few minutes, but all of Theta Chi finally agreed to end the rivalry as well, Ashton being the last to give in.

“I never thought I’d see the day when Alpha Phi and Theta Chi didn’t hate each other.” you said to Calum as the other members began to file out of the frat house, some of them already starting to mingle.

“It’s a pretty remarkable thing we did today.” Calum marveled.

“I say we throw an even more remarkable party to honor this remarkable day.” you smirked.

THAT WEEKEND

“I have to say, you did a great job putting together this party!” Calum shouted to you above the music. You were both currently swaying with each other on the makeshift dance floor in the Alpha Phi house.

“I know I did!” you said triumphantly, Calum grinning so wide his eyes were starting to crinkle in the corners.

Everyone was enjoying themselves. Both Alpha’s and Theta’s were interacting with each other and dancing with each other like the rivalry never existed in the first place. It took a little bit for everyone to get used to not having to hate one another, but they really started to get along well when given the opportunity to. Michael and Vanessa were grinding with each other on the dance floor, while Luke and Tatum were in the kitchen excitedly talking about what they were going to do at cheer practice the following week. Ashton had even embraced the newfound treaty between the houses and was making out with Mallory, who he’s always found to be attractive, in the corner of the room.

“Can we go somewhere quieter to talk?” Calum shouted. You nodded yes and led him outside to the front lawn where you both took a seat on the street curb.

“I’m glad we don’t have to hate each other anymore.” Calum laughed.

“Me too.” you said as Calum carefully grabbed your hand in his and laced your fingers together.

“I don’t think I ever really hated you that much, I just thought I had to.” you explained.

“I actually really liked you when we first met our freshman year.” you confessed.

“I really liked you too. Still do.” Calum added, making you smile. You looked up at him and noticed how cute he looked when his hair was a mess and saw how his brown eyes glistened in the moonlight and just got the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

“At least now we can do this without getting ripped to shreds by our friends.” Calum whispered as he leaned in closer, alternating between looking into your eyes and looking at your lips. It felt like years before his lips were finally on yours, igniting fireworks in your head and taking your breath away. You never knew a kiss with someone could be so good, and damn was it good. Calum pulled away when you both heard cheers coming from the front door. You looked back and saw all of your friends standing there cheering you on. You and Calum both laughed, being insanely happy in that moment.

“How about we go back in there and have another night that we won’t remember in the morning?” Calum asked you as he stood up, pulling you right with him since your hands were still connected.

“I would love nothing more than that.”

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nickireadstfc · 7 years

Text

The Raven King, Chapter 16 - I Got Scars, They're Multiplying

In which Neil needs protection, hugs, soft kisses and everything good in the world, and Riko needs to die in a fire pit.

Sounds good? Then it's time for Nicki to read (and finish) The Raven King.

Here we are. Last chapter of The Raven King - and what a wild ride that one was. We saw more plot than ever before, more sass than we could handle, and more gut-wrenching shock than we liked.

Let's finish this off, shall we?

[Neil] rubbed his eyes with gloved hands and regretted it immediately. The gloves hid his bandages but did nothing for the pain.

So apparently, Neil wakes up in the airport - with no memory of how he got there, but instead with a body that feels like it had a nice time fighting with a lawn mower.

Only that the lawn mower had twice the usual amount of blades, was extra mean, and could also, like, spit fire or something.

Also, Neil lost.

For a moment, Neil was baffled that [the airport gate announcement] wasn't in French. He'd spent so much time with Jean he'd forgotten any other language existed.

Neil is also weirdly confused at the absence of Jean. Having spent two - three? - weeks metaphorically chained to each other does that to you, probably.

I still don't like Jean, just so clarify that from last chapter. Maybe he grows on you some more next book and then I'll see the light, but so far, I don't know. I see him as a clear victim of the Ravens total fuckery, I have pity for him, and I find him an interesting character because of his dynamic with Kevin, but he is still kind of a douchebag to me.

I'm sorry. I wanna like him. He just hasn't given me much reason to yet.

Neil, (occasionally) smart boy that he is, charges his phone and calls Wymack to get him - but not before having to wade through tons and tons of texts from the Foxes, which already made me a lil emotional.

Everyone, apart from Andrew of course, everyone texted him over the holidays. This is the kind of quality fox family shit I signed up for.

"I didn't know who else to call," Neil said. He barely recognized his own voice. The last time he'd spoken he'd been screaming; apparently his vocal chords still hadn't recovered.

There's shit like that dropped through this entire scene, shit that hints at just how much actual fucking torture Neil is coming back from right now, and I am decidedly not fucking liking it.

"Are you all right?"

Neil smiled. It felt like it tore his face open. "No. No, I'm not. I know it's kind of sudden, but can you come get me?"

Is that........ the first time......... Neil has admitted to not being fine........ ONE FOR THE BOOKS, FOLKS.

I mean, with so much painful shit done to you, you'd have to be a serious shade of fucked up, angsty and alone not to ask for help.

Which is to say, Book 1 Neil would have totally not asked for help.

Another exhaustion blackout later, Neil finds himself on one of his most frequented post-awful time places: Wymack's couch.

And Wymack, although keeping caring watch like a tattooed momma hen, is not here for Neil's bullshit:

"He sounds like Neil," Wymack said, "but he doesn't look like him. I'll take your explanation from the top and without a side order of bullshit, thanks."

What, did the injuries they gave him at the Batcave of Extra rip him an entirely new face?

The face waiting for him in the mirror was horrible enough to take his legs out from under him. (...) This was his natural hair colour, and those were his real eyes, and this was his father's face.

APPARENTLY, YES.

An entirely new face that looks exactly like his father. Oh shit. OH SHIT BOI.

At this point it should be pointed out how amazingly well-written this chapter is. Neil's pain-induced confusion and blackout, his anxiety, and most importantly his screaming, hurting body is tangible through the pages and that just gripped me.

I mean, it also gripped me because Neil is my beautiful sassy angsty adoptive son I need to protect at absolutely all costs, now more than ever.

But also because the writing is just damn on point.

Hey - remember how last time there was this tiny annoying voice that kept reminding me of something I'd seen time and time again in fanart and cosplay?

Wymack went so still Neil thought he'd turned to stone. "Neil, the fuck is on your face?"

Oh no.

Neil wasn't ready to see his reflection again. He was less ready to see the "4" tattooed on his left cheekbone.

OH NO.

I SAW THAT COMING AND STILL OH SHIT NO.

HELL NO.

By the time Wymack caught up with him he'd already pulled a knife from the wooden block on Wymack's counter. Wymack seized his wrist before Neil could take the knife to his own face.

Wow.

Wow, shit.

No kidding - to me, this little bit here is probably the most shocking and wtf-moment in this entire chapter.

Like. Not only does Neil want to get rid of that tattoo - which us understandable, we all would in his situation -, but he is instantly rady to take a giant ass kitchen knife and cut it out of his own skin without a second of hesitation?

What the fuck. What the FUCK.

This speaks volumes, volumes of what they did to him at Batcave of Extra, and I do not like one single thing about it.

Every time Neil blinked he remembered a little more of his Christmas vacation. Every time he moved he felt Riko's hands and blades and fire on his skin. he'd let Riko take him apart time and time again because it was the only way to survive, because bending should have kept him from breaking, but Neil didn't know if he could pull himself together one more time.

MY SON, MY BEAUTIFUL SHORT-TEMPERED ANGSTY SASS MACHINE SON, FUCK NO.

I MUST PROTECT YOU.

And then, immediately after - are y'all ready for the most heartbreaking paragraph in this chapter, because I am ABSOLUTELY THE FUCK NOT:

Neil, Wymack called him, even when he looked like this, even with his father's face and his father's eyes and the Moriyama's number on his face. Neil, Wymack called him, and more than anything Neil wanted it to be true. He stopped fighting to get free; the hands that had been trying to wrench Wymack's arms off him now held on for dear life.

HE'S HUGGING HIM.

NEIL IS HUGGING WYMACK, KNOWING WYMACK WILL LOVE AND ACEEPT HIM NO MATTER WHAT, NO MATTER WHAT UGLY PART OF NEIL HE GETS TO SEE, AND NEIL IS HUGGING HIM, CLINGING, PROBABLY CRYING.

GUESS WHO'S NOT JUST PROBABLY CRYING.

IT'S ME.

"Help me," he said through gritted teeth.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Neil!! Is!! Not only accepting help!! But ASKING FOR IT!!!

[high-pitched incoherent emotional screaming in the distance]

Wymack, of course, is the Best Person Alive and patches Neil up without asking questions - which is an incredibly feat considering that Neil's body right now has reached new Deapool-looking heights.

On the contrary, it is now Neil who offers answers - after the finals, after the Ravens are beaten and have had their abusive sadistic asses handed to them, Neil will tell Wymack the truth. As in, the actual truth.

HELL FECKIN YES.

Wymack deserves to know All The Things.

"I didn't sign it," Neil said, looking up from his hands. (...) "He gave me a contract but I wouldn't sign it. He couldn't make me. This doesn't mean anything. I'm still a Fox."

Oh my god. This small "He couldn't make me" in there, brb literally burying myself in a pile of my own emotions.

They tortured him. They legit medieval-style full-on tortured him, and he still refused to be one of them. Even in pain so cruel it caused blackout memory, Neil still refused to give up his Fox family.

"He couldn't make me."

Neil, I have seldom loved you more than in this very, very moment.

And oh - it's almost New Year's.

He tapped out a simple "Happy New Year" to the Foxes. (...) The response was almost immediate. By the time the midnight countdown started on the screen (...), he'd already heard back from his entire team, most of them in capslock and with extraneous exclamation marks.

FOX BABIES

FOX FAMILY

He was their family. They were his. They were worth every cut and bruise and scream.

WOULD SOMEONE THINK OF MY FOX TEARS

Facing the Foxes on the court this spring would be the last mistake Riko ever made.

And if it isn't, I will personally worm myself into this fictional universe and smack him so hard his shitty sadistic motherfucker of a brain comes flying out his ass where it had been hidden, and he will die slowly and painfully of tragic brainlessness while I bound off to find Neil and give him the 24h cuddle session he needs and deserves.

Fucking hell.

Nicki out.

Hold on - before I leave, a quick note on how updates will continue:

Some time next week (don't know when exactly) I'll put up another review of the entire book, like I did for The Foxhole court. We're also looking at what predictions I made last time and whether they turned out to be golden bullshit or not, so stay tuned for that.

After that, in August this blog will take a hiatus as I'm travelling around a lot taking well-deserved holidays. (Canadian peeps: I'm invading your country! If anyone here lives in the Regina, Edmonton or Toronto area, hit me up.)

In September, we're back to our normal update schedule of twice a week (as long as life allows me to, as always), this time probably having All The Feels over The King's Men.

I can't wait.

And, on a last note: As always, if you like what I do here and you want to help me continue making this project, please consider buying me a coffee. Every little bit does help. Thank you so much! <33

#nicki reads tfc #trk #tfc #aftg #the raven king #the foxhole court #all for the game #nora sakavic #WE'RE DONE YOU GUYS #ONLY ONE BOOK LEFT #time goes by so fast wtf wtf wtf #as always I am THRILLED about asks messages and tags on reblogs #ily all #also I'm sorry about the headline #((im rlly not tho))#((I saw the opportunity and I took it))

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