#but i tried even looking up chaotic energy examples and could find nothing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

espressokiri · 3 years

Note

Can I request Aizawa with a popular hero s/o? Class 1-A loves them and goes crazy when they find out he’s married to their idol.

Aizawa x GN!reader

In which reader is Aizawa's married partner and is popular with crowds and loved by class 1-A.

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Note: (H/n) = Hero name

Being a man who savoured his alone time, mostly spending it catching up with sleep due to his hectic scheduling of night patrol and teaching students, he was surprised to have fallen for a colleague who fell into the spotlight and enamoured everyone they came in contact with. They were the prime example of ‘opposites attract’ and it was oddly endearing.

Y/n always emitted a comforting energy around them, their soft and nurturing nature drawing admirers and fans, hence shooting their rank in the Heroes poll right under the popular winged hero. Despite their popularity due to their personality, their strong ability to maneuver their quirk and quick thinking under stressful situations had gained them respect with both civilians and heroes.

Because of the awareness that Aizawa does not enjoy the spotlight, Y/n had always arrived to their shared home in secrecy to avoid paparazzi and crazed fans from finding out their humble abode, a comfortable one bedroom modern apartment that was perfect for the pair of them. Their odd schedules seemed to clash but the couple always made it work, sometimes sacrificing each other’s sleep to be able to spend time with the other -usually Y/n as they know Aizawa lacks enough sleep already.

“Sweetheart, it’s time for you to wake up.” Y/n whispers softly, leaning over Aizawa and tracing their forefinger around his facial features, easing him awake. A groan rumbles in the man’s throat before he slowly opens his eyes, a soft smile taking over as he’s met with the worried gaze of his partner. “Good morning.” Aizawa’s voice rasps out, throat dry from just waking up.

“Morning, my love.”

Aizawa takes their hand that was on his face and places it on his lips, giving it a peck before letting go.

“Breakfast is ready.” Y/n informs before trudging out of the room, leaving a sighing Aizawa as he dreaded dealing with a bunch of chaotic teenagers.

When Aizawa came out freshened up and dressed in his hero uniform, he was met with Y/n leaning on the kitchen counter in their pyjamas, sipping on coffee in their favourite mug and focussing on their phone. Y/n had a late start in the morning for their shift in the agency, so they tried making the most of their morning.

Aizawa walked towards them, placing both hands on the counter, confining them in between his arms. Y/n raised an eyebrow at his approach, placing their phone away and looking at him while having the rim of the mug on their lips as they took a sip. “Need anything?” A smirk played on their lips as Aizawa scoffed at their question, swiftly swooping down and placing a kiss on their lips.

Y/n placed their mug on the counter, besotted in the affection their partner was showcasing. Aizawa brought his hands to their hips and helped them up onto the counter, slotting himself in between them with both hands on their thighs. Y/n ran their hand through his hair as they gazed at each other with deep longing and understanding. “You don’t have much time.” Y/n murmured, leaning their head onto his shoulder, placing a soft kiss on his neck, making goosebumps arise on the touched skin.

“I know, I’m enjoying while I can.” Aizawa sighed, grabbing the mug Y/n had placed aside and taking a sip from it. Y/n let out a sound of disapproval, “you have your own coffee right there!” They pointed at the steaming mug placed on the kitchen table.

“Just giving yours a try.” He shrugged, a smile on his lips as he grabbed his mug and leaned back against the counter in between Y/n’s legs. Y/n ran their fingers through his hair, untangling the knots he seemed to not have brushed out. “I have patrol till six today, I won’t be home when you come back from work.” Y/n spoke.

Aizawa had his eyes closed as he savoured the warm beverage and the calm feeling of his partner working on his hair. “That’s alright, be sure to eat dinner early. Stay safe.” Aizawa was upset that they didn’t even get weekends to spend together to do normal couple things, it was a rare occurrence for both their schedules to align.

When Aizawa did enter his homeroom classroom, facing the rowdy students of class 1-A, he stumbled upon a conversation between Mineta and Kaminari, “(H/n) is so cool! I can’t believe they aren’t higher up in the hero rankings, they have an amazing record of defeating villains!” Kaminari gushed.

“Forget that! Do you see how sexy they look? With that sweet nature of theirs, I’m sure they must be so submiss-” Bindings wrapped around the short grape boy as Aizawa held a menacing glare, the class hushing with the sudden change in mood.

“It would do you good not to speak of my partner in such a vulgar manner.”

A beat of silence was held before the class erupted in excitement and confusion, “partner?!”

Ashido raised her hand up high and wiggled it around before Aizawa sighed and beckoned her to speak, “sensei! Are romantically involved with (H/n)?!”

There he’s done it, Aizawa was aware of his class idolizing Y/n and now he’s gotten his privacy breached. “Yes, we are married.”

Ensue more shock and raised hands.

After a gruelling day of being interrogated by his students and teaching, Aizawa made his way home before he would start his nightly patrol. Shoving the keys in the lock, he opened the door and let himself inside, upset that he would be home alone for the remainder of his time.

“Ah, shit!”

Aizawa froze as he heard the sound coming from the bathroom, eyes glancing towards the clock in the kitchen. Y/n wasn’t supposed to be home yet. He rushed his way into the bathroom to come across Y/n with a gash on the side of their head which they were tending to.

“What happened?!”

Y/n jumped at the sudden loud noise, turning around and finding their husband with a worried gaze settled onto their wound. “Nothing serious, I got caught off guard because of that stupid birdbrain of a hero.” Y/n waved it off, scoffing when they mentioned Hawks. Aizawa held their face in between his hands as he inspected the wound, it wasn’t deep but it would need to be cared for.

As Aizawa cleaned the blood around the wound and disinfected it, he brought up the incident today. “My class also really wants to meet you.”

Y/n was aware of how much Aizawa adored his class, despite not wording it and pretending they were a lot of work. “I’d love to meet them too! I’m free tomorrow if you’d like.” Y/n offered. Aizawa swallowed nervously, “tomorrow sounds good.” Y/n had never visited U.A. while Aizawa was working, and he was nervous about the whole ordeal.

To say he was nervous was an understatement, Aizawa kept glancing at the classroom door as he was teaching, wondering when they’d come in and how things would go. It wasn’t like him to be nervous but perhaps he wanted to show Y/n how well he could handle kids like they could.

As he monitored the class doing their worksheets, the door slid open revealing Y/n holding a small bento in their hands. “It’s (H/n)!” The class were bouncing with excitement and squeals could be heard. Y/n gave a friendly wave to the class as they made their way to Aizawa, giving him a kiss on the cheek, riling the students up more, before placing the bento box on his desk.

“Hello class 1-A! It’s great to finally meet you!” Y/n gave their brightest smile as they were excited to meet Aizawa’s ‘problem children’. They seemed to be a lively bunch with unique appearances, it was very endearing to see teenagers with bright smiles and a strong heart.

“How’d you meet Aizawa sensei, (H/n)?” Ashido had questioned, buzzing with excitement as she gazed over what the hero was wearing. “You guys can call me Y/n.” Y/n winked, “also we met back in high school, but we were acquaintances until he started working with an underground agency and I gained the courage to ask him out.”

“If Aizawa sensei can get someone like Y/n, then there’s still hope for us!” Kaminari wailed, a glare pointed at him by his teacher.

Y/n snickered, “despite his rugged appearance, he’s quite the charmer.” They praised, causing the girls in the class to swoon at the sweet words.

“So Shota, are you going to show me how strong your class really is?”

Ground Beta never seemed to get awfully torn down when Y/n was in U.A., but it seems that Aizawa’s class held destructive and strong quirks that left their mouth wide open at the power a bunch of teenagers held. Especially the three Aizawa had mentioned once or twice in passing; Todoroki Shoto, Bakugou Katsuki, and Midoriya Izuku.

“Here dear, let’s get you hydrated.” Y/n handed Uraraka a bottle of water as the girl looked nauseas from the overuse of her quirk. “T-thank you!” Uraraka bowed timidly before shakily grabbing the bottle, Y/n just gave her a gentle smile and ruffled her hair, “you were so cool Uraraka, and your hero suit is adorable.” A fiery blush erupted on the girl’s face at the compliment and affectionate touch.

“What do you think of my quirk?!” An overexcited Kaminari ran over to the two, seeing his idol praise Uraraka had him craving for approval from the hero. “It’s very powerful, Kaminari! You’re doing great with the limited usage as well to not overwhelm yourself!” Y/n pinched his cheek, a slight static grazing the pads of their fingers as the blonde was jittering with joy.

“Stop hogging her Denki!” Jirou had shoved the blonde away, “Jirou! I’m so excited to be seeing more of your quirk in use! I love how calm you are while IN action!”

“Y/n! Can we train together?”

“Yeah! I wanna see what it’s like fighting a real pro!”

Y/n grinned at their enthusiasm and agreed, all of class A seemed to have brightened up and tried their best to show off to their idol.

Aizawa was watching from a distance, a soft smile on his lips as he watched his partner interact with his students. They were always good with kids, especially teenagers, as they claimed all the kids ever want is someone to listen to them and understand their thought process. Maybe he would bring Y/n along often to training during their off days.

#aizawa imagine #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x reader #aizawa x gn!reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #aizawa fluff #aizawa scenario

357 notes · View notes

wkemeup · 4 years

Text

Sunrise (1)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, the first splinter in the wall around Bucky’s heart 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

This was a bad idea. A monumentally bad idea.

Bucky closed his apartment door behind him, pausing for a moment at the top of brownstone steps as a chill of autumn air swept by. Brittle to the touch, cool on his skin, it nestled into his spine and ached deep in his bones— in ones that had been long abandoned, too. The sun reflected against the shine of the pavement from last night’s rainfall, forcing Bucky to squint his eyes.

Was it always so bright outside? Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t left his apartment for nearly a week before Sam threatened to turn him over to Steve that he’d forgotten how unpleasant the streets of New York could be. Loud. Cold. Chaotic.

He stepped onto the sidewalk, slipping out of the path of a jogger who nearly ran him over and had the gull to flip him the bird. Bucky groaned, curling his right hand into a fist and digging it deep into his pocket as he tried to calm the sudden racing in his chest. The free arm of his army jacket swung down by his left side, empty.

Not even a few steps outside the sanctuary of closed curtains, warm bedsheets, and the unattended static of a decade old television, and Bucky was already regretting ever knowing Sam Wilson.

Bucky turned towards the busy street ahead, staring up at the hustle of pedestrians and rush of taxis for a moment longer before he dared to take a step. His feet felt remarkably heavy and he had more than half a mind to tell Wilson to shove it and head back up to his apartment. He had better things to do than make a completely unnecessary trip to the VA.

What those things were, he couldn’t say, but they didn’t make his heart feel like it was about to beat straight out of his chest. He could stare at a wall for a few hours, for example – see if he could find the crack in the drywall again and follow it to the ceiling.

“Don't be a coward, Barnes,” Bucky grumbled to himself, earning a strange look from an elderly woman as she passed by. Her eyes held on him longer than she should; clearly a woman who had little shame in her degradation of strangers.

He gritted his teeth and commanded his legs to move. Those worked, at least.

As he made his way to the main street, his palm started to sweat inside his pocket. He could see his breath in every tense exhale, and still, he was boiling hot under his jacket. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d remove it, because even with a sleeve hanging loose off his shoulder, he could at least keep up the pretense there was something inside. People would have to look twice before they realized. Wasn’t so easy to hide a missing arm in a short sleeve shirt.

Still—he was thankful as he weaved his way upstream through the crowd that he wasn’t as broad as he used to be. A couple months' worth of weight loss, diminished muscle mass, and one less limb will do that do a guy.

He used to be the sort of man that women would glance at as he passed by. Charming smile. Infectious energy. He could make a woman bite shamelessly at the edge of her bottom lip with a single trail of his eyes along her figure. Extend a hand, offer a drink and a dance. He used to hold confidence in every ounce of his body.

Now, he kept his eyes on the pavement. He hid from the sun and the curious looks of strangers under the brim of a baseball cap. No one looked twice in his direction. He was invisible these days and that was just the way he liked it.

By the time he reached the VA, he was surprised to find it a little less than pristine. The windows were dirty with handprints and smudges, the window panes covered in soot. A few of the roofing panels were missing from harsh New York winters. Even some of the outer brick wall had seen some weathering.

Though, if he were honest, it wasn’t usual at all. Made some sense that the VA was left to wash and wear on its own, deteriorating in front of a busy street of onlookers, right out in plain sight. It was how Bucky felt after he’d come home from his last tour— discarded. Placed upon a pedestal, but only as long as you wear the uniform, only as long as you’re staring down the other end of a barrel. Once you’re shipped back home and cast out from desert, you’re made to fend for yourself. Pull up your bootstraps. Adjust.

Bucky wasn’t sure how to do that anymore. Sam insisted this would help. The people at the VA were good, he’d said. They were like him. They’d understand.

While Bucky was suspicious, it was enough to drag him a couple blocks from his apartment. It was more than he’d done in weeks anyway. Sam would put on his makeshift shrink hat and call that a meaningful step. Bucky would call it pathetic.

He stared at the double doors, focusing on dark red rust on the metal hinges. He wondered if he put enough pressure on the latch if it would snap clean off. It looked sharp on the edges, too. Someone could easily cut themselves on it if they weren’t careful—

BEEEEEEP!

A jolt surged through Bucky’s chest enough to nearly knocked him off his feet.

Sudden flashes of a sweltering heat, the unnatural vibration of the desert under his feet. The car horn echoed into the back of his head, longer than it should have, and his ears started to ring. His vision felt tunneled and Bucky quickly stumbled his way through the double doors just to escape the blare of the horn outside.

It took a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. It was darker inside than what he was expecting. He blinked a few times, hand resting on the wall to hold his balance as he looked around, shaking himself from the memories.

Lamps were spread throughout the common room to offset the abrasive overhead lighting left untouched. Bucky started to wonder if he maybe it was on purpose, if he wasn’t the only one who had become sensitive to these things, when Sam walked into the room.

He froze.

“Holy shit!” Sam’s mouth rose up into that goddamn know-it-all smile, wide enough to show teeth and the dimples in his cheeks, and Bucky winced. Sam started to laugh as he crossed the space to where Bucky was standing. “I didn’t think you’d actually come!”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky shrugged, “I’m here. Don’t make this a big thing.”

“Who me?” Sam scoffed, feigning offense. “You know Steve’s the one who’s going to blow this up. He might throw a welcome party if you ever show up to the support group.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s not happening.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Sam nodded, though he was still smiling. He looked almost... proud? It didn’t sit well in Bucky’s stomach. “Still, got you out of that cramped apartment, didn’t I? You open those curtains yet or are you still living like a vampire?”

Bucky glared at him. Sure, Sam was right... but he didn’t need to know that.

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Sam put a hand on Bucky’s back to guide him down the hall.

He was only one of two people Bucky tolerated touching him at all and he was lucky he didn’t flinch anymore. Even an innocent touch from his own mother when she tried to hold his hand after he came back from his final tour had nearly left him in a panic attack. She’d cried as Bucky desperately tried to gather his breath, shoving her away as if she’d burned him.

Sam and Steve didn’t give him much of a choice. They didn’t handle him with kid gloves or treat him like he was about to break. Even if he was splintering at the seams, you’d never be able to tell with how Sam and Steve were around him; like old times, like nothing had changed, like they were still three kids dressed in fresh uniforms with chips on their shoulders and a whole new world ahead of them.

After a while, the small pats on the back and the nudges in his side became a small comfort; not that he’d tell them. It was a strange feeling to both be repulsed by touch and crave it. But the topic didn’t come up much these days outside of his friends anyway. No one tried to touch him and he didn’t seek it out. It was easier that way.

“The kitchen’s over here,” Sam said as he pointed into a room that had likely once been covered in white tiles and appliances, though now resembled more of a pale yellow. Two men were hunched over at the table, nursing coffee out of Styrofoam cups as a woman waited eagerly by a toaster.

“Everything in there is free rein,” Sam added. “Always stocked with food from donations, though I would make sure to check the expirations on the milk before adding it to your coffee.” He shivered at an unpleasant memory and Bucky found the edge of his mouth curl, though he suppressed it rather quickly.

The next room was mostly empty save for the wooden lined floors and chairs folded up against the wall. A sheet covered the small window peering inside that read ‘group in session when closed.’

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sam started, to which Bucky narrowed his eyes, “but I’m not going to force you into the support group, Buck. You go when you’re ready. If you ever are. Talking about this stuff, or even listening to it... it isn't for everybody. Steve will get that, too. We all find our outlets eventually. You’ll find yours, too.”

Bucky nodded, a swell of relief in his chest. He’d been forced into a mental evaluation by the army docs shortly after his discharge; something about routine testing, but he knew what they were looking for – what all those shrinks were looking for – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

The nightmares came first, soon after he’d returned to the States. It started in screams that burned deep into his throat, waking up neighbors at two in the morning, finding blood in his bed from injuries he’d caused in his sleep. Lately they’d manifested into sweat drenched in his sheets and a heart rate that couldn’t seem to even out until the sun rose.

Then came the jumpiness – the flinching at every loud noise, thinking it was a bomb or the latch of a safety. He’d broken more glasses than he cared to admit, knocking them straight of his hand at the sound of a gunshot on the television.

Then the paranoia settled in, then the hypervigilance. The anxiety in crowds and tight spaces was new, though. Add it to the list, he supposed.

Through all of it, he never let the shrink catch on. He’d put on a smile and tell them he was proud of his service, that he’d serviced his country with honor and he was thankful to return to the civilian side of things for a change.

It was bullshit.

He was pissed. He lost an arm and half his mind to a war that recruited him young and idealistic right out of high school, when he was looking for a better life than what his neighborhood could offer, to put food on the table for his ma and sister. Pissed was understated.

He wouldn’t find himself in Steve’s group; of that he was certain. You don’t talk about those things after you leave the desert. Hell, you barely acknowledge them while you’re there. It’s just how it works. It’s how you deal with it. Bucky didn’t allow himself to consider whether his method was doing him much better.

Sam walked him through the common areas, the lounge space, even a room with a pretty decent sized television and a shelf filled with DVDs. It was a nice enough place. Quiet. But so was his apartment.

“Now this is the best room in the house.” Sam opened a door on his left, the hinges squeaking under an old wooden frame as he stepped inside.

Bucky followed in closely behind and was surprised when a subtle scent of pine brushed his senses. A small candle was burning at the center of a coffee table, surrounding it were a few couches, all with mismatched fabrics, laid upon a carpet that looked to have been donated from an estate sale. The walls around him were lined with shelves, though they were completely empty. Cob webs hung in the corners and dust lined the wood.

What caught his eye was a single cart at the edge of the room. It was filled with books, all in bright colors on the binding and tags from the Brooklyn Public Library piled high on top of one another, far beyond the confines of the cart itself.

“Y/n? Where you at, kid? We got a newbie!” Sam called, nudging Bucky in the side with a playful wink he did not return.

A figure suddenly jumped from behind the couch with a book in hand covered in layers of dust and crumbs. The sudden movement forced a flinch deep in Bucky’s chest, his breath held tight in his lungs, though he kept himself firm on the surface, like stone. It took a minute before he realized how tight he’d barreled his fist and he slowly released his grip before Sam could notice.

“Been looking for this one for over a year!” you exclaimed, holding up the book for Sam to see. You brushed off the cover, restoring the original vibrant hue of the artwork. “Can’t even imagine the overdue fees I’ve racked up on this sucker...”

There was a strange lightness in your voice Bucky didn’t expect, a tenderness and a sunshine that didn’t belong amongst the dark overcast of the men and women who occupied these rooms. It certainly sat in dangerous contrast to the gravel and stone in Bucky’s voice and the clouds that usually followed in his wake.

He glanced down at his clothes as you approached; a pair of old ripped jeans from a few years ago, a faded t-shirt, and his army jacket hung over his shoulders. Dull and raggedy, ripping at the seams.

But you? Dressed in the warmest shade of a red knit sweater, a gentle glow on your cheeks, a softness about your movements, you resembled the sort of sunset at the end of a highway one would stop the car to capture on film. Inviting. Tender and ethereal. Lovely.

You stepped closer and he noticed the knees of your jeans were covered in dust, your palms too. Messy in the pursuit of happiness, like a child on a playground. You didn’t seem to mind the dust as you brushed it off your knees, holding the found book close to your chest like an extension of your own heart.

“Blame it on Lang. He's always losing stuff around here,” Sam offered as you set the book on the cart. You started to laugh and swatted Sam in the arm. A pout perched on your lips, though it didn’t seem to last long. Your laugh was infectious.

Bucky swallowed as he watched you; the way your smile wrinkled up into your eyes as if a face like yours was drawn and designed to curve at the lips and push dimples to your cheeks. It shined into the bright hues in your irises and Bucky wondered if you would keep smiling like that forever, if it were possible that he could stare into the sun and not be burned; if instead, he could find warmth in its embrace.

His heart stammered, his breath shallow, but it wasn’t unpleasant like it had been on the busy streets. It was something new, a sensation he hadn’t had since before he signed his name to a cause that took his arm and his dignity.

Y/n, Sam had called you. It was a beautiful name. He didn’t know if he could even find things beautiful again after what he’d seen overseas. You were the first, he supposed.

He must have been staring too long, because your lips were moving to words he didn’t hear, and suddenly two pairs of eyes were on him. His heart skipped, frozen in embarrassment.

“This must be your first day of school,” you teased, extending your right hand to him.

Bucky stared down at it, heart pounding, and before Sam could politely tell you that Bucky didn’t really do that sort of thing, he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook it. You had a firmer grip than he was expecting, but still soft. Your fingers were like ice and it was a nice contrast to the swelter he felt under his jacket.

Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised by Bucky's sudden willingness to take the hand of a stranger, though thankfully he didn’t say anything. A shit eating grin curved up upon his lips and that, Bucky could have done without.

“Thought it was time I checked it out,” Bucky said, his voice a little dry. You let go of his hand and Bucky found he missed the contact almost instantly.

“Dragged him here by the skin of his teeth is more like it,” Sam interjected and Bucky’s ears burned red. He shot Sam a glare, who only shrugged, unbothered by his humiliation of his friend. “Been trying to get his sorry ass through the door for a few months now.”

You nodded, though your smile never wavered. Your eyes remained on Bucky, listening to Sam, but intently studying the lines on Bucky’s face. It left him feeling exposed, but somehow, even as his own gaze trailed to the floor, he didn’t mind you watching him like that, like maybe you found worth in what you saw. He adjusted his stance, suddenly remembering the startling absence on his left.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now,” you said, brushing Sam off in his teasing. “I’ve been volunteering at this place for a little over a year. We got good people here. I’m sure you’ll fit right in...” you paused, biting on your lip.

“Bucky,” he offered because he could tell you were waiting for it. You smiled at his name and a sense of pride burned bright in his chest. God, if he could just make you smile like that again...

“Bucky’s a cool name,” you grinned, though Sam rolled his eyes. “That short for something?”

“Don’t lie to the new kid, Y/n. We all know it’s corny as hell,” Sam interrupted playfully before Bucky could get a word in. You wacked Sam on the shoulder and Bucky felt the edges of his lips curve. It felt strange, achy, like he hadn’t done that in a while. Maybe he hadn’t.

“Buchanan,” Bucky answered, though he quickly added, “but my first name’s James. James Barnes.”

“Well, James Barnes,” you started, exchanging a knowing look with Sam that made Bucky’s stomach twist in knots, “I run a book club of sorts on Sunday evenings around six. You should swing by. We’re always looking for new members.”

“Y/n works at the Brooklyn library most days,” Sam explained. “We’re lucky to have her. Never thought I’d see so many tattooed men with biceps the size of my head sitting in a circle talking ‘bout books, but Y/n works magic. Everyone loves her. Helps that her book club is pretty unconventional.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Unconventional?”

Sam started to say more, but you pouted your lips at him and he left the words on the edge of his tongue. He held up his hands in defense and took a step back, returning the smile to your face.

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, laughing so sweetly Bucky was sure his knees might give out at any second. “It’s a good time, I promise. No pressure at all.”

Bucky nodded, considering his options. The idea of seeing you again could make the walk down to the VA worth it, but he wasn’t sold on the concept of sitting in a room full of ex-combat vets probably using a shared book as a proxy for a support group. He wondered if you had them reading something about PTSD or adjusting to civilian life or a memoir of some guy embellishing his time overseas to make a quick buck.

But he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, so he asked, “what are you reading?”

You shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Just think about it,” you suggested as you unclicked the lock at the bottom of the cart. The front wheel was broken and you struggled to get an angle to move in the direction you pushed it. “I should head back to the library. It was really nice to meet you, Bucky. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Bucky nodded, finding himself searching for something else to say, some kind of excuse to get you to stay longer, but came up empty. You smiled at him, all bright and starry eyed, and his knees felt weak again. Shit.

“Don’t let Stark talk your ear off on the way out,” Sam warned, a laugh in his voice.

“I think I know my boys around here by now, Samuel,” you teased back. Bucky couldn’t quite tell if it was a pang of jealousy in his stomach or an eagerness to be included. It was a strange rush of feelings he hadn’t tapped into in years; not necessarily unpleasant, but certainly unfamiliar.

You paused by the door, turning back and capturing Bucky’s eye one last time. “Sunday at six, alright? I’ll see you there.”

He didn’t say anything, but you seemed to take his silence as confirmation. You gave him a final wave before you disappeared into the hallway. He could hear the click of the broken front wheel on your cart echoing down the hall.

Bucky and Sam followed you out of the room and hung back by the makeshift library doors.

“What did I tell you!” Sam cheered, nudging Bucky hard enough on the side to knock him off his balance. He was too fixated on watching grumpy old men and stone-faced women pass by in the hallway with smiles on their faces as they saw you.

“It’s, uh, it’s not bad.” Bucky waited until you disappeared out the front doors and onto the busy sidewalks before he turned to Sam. He was watching him with a sort of I-told-you-so look that made Bucky want to slap the dimples straight from his face. “...what?”

“Nothing, man.” Sam shrugged, though there was something lingering in the smirk he wore, like maybe he knew something Bucky didn’t.

He didn’t care for that one bit.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

2K notes · View notes

tarosin · 3 years

Text

the not so great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo and ranboo

this is an extra episode to the great adventures series -

people included: platonic! jack/tubbo/ranboo/tommy

please read what is written in bold

this is an “alternative ending” around 15 years into the future and is heavily inspired by bo burnhams song ‘goodbye’ this doesn’t mean this is actually how the series is going to end im writing it now and including it as part of series as their friendship is already established i can confirm y/n and the group are going to have a happy ending when the series eventually comes to an end this also does not mean the series is anywhere near the end i plan on continuing the series as vlogs come out. i’m sorry HOWEVER i am currently writing how y/n made friends with everyone so you have that to look forward to. i am sorry to the new people who requested to be on the taglist as this is the first thing you’re being tagged in

cw: angst, cursing

it had been around 14 years since ranboo moved to the UK, a year after the day you all met, to be with you tommy and tubbo. you were all thriving; you were living with your best friends, were all some of the most watched creators, you were constantly making new memories with everyone. you even had a wall full of photos of you all from every adventure you had been on with a picture of ranboo poorly edited into the background which made you laugh as you passed the wall every day. almost every evening you would all watch something on the tv, often re watching your favourite tv shows. the past few months had been pretty rough, there were days you didn’t even want to leave the house. you and tommy would fight over the smallest things. for example, a few weeks ago you were both arguing about who was responsible for forgetting something whilst out shopping.

“you were supposed to remind me to get it!”

“i told you to make a fucking list tommy, how is this my fault?”

“because i told you to fucking remind me but you were too focused on playing around!”

“you’re not making any sense tommy!”

“oh fuck off, y/n! i don’t even want to look at you right now!”

“so long tommy i’ll see you when i see you!”

and with that you left to stay with jack until you were ready to go back home, it was around now you lost your love for streaming, however jack encouraged you to stream for a little while so you fans don’t think you’ve left them in the dark. 20 minutes into the stream you felt like you were slowly loosing power even though it hadn’t even been an hour into your stream. A week later you were still with jack, that’s when you got the notification from tubbo.

bo: y/n... we’re sorry we tried our best to make him stay

boo: y/n come home as soon as possible

*tommy has left the chat*

*tommy has blocked tubbo, ranboo, jack and y/n*

bo: he blocked me??

jack: and me

boo: ...yeah

jack offered to drive you back home, which you gladly accepted. the ride was silent, the pair of you still trying to process what just happened, your friend of over 14 years had enough and left you all, until you finally spoke up your voice shaking as you tried not to cry.

“so this is how it ends heh?”

“well at least i’ll save fuel driving taking us all on adventures.”

“youre really joking at a time like this..”

“i was only trying to lighten the mood.. you know you’re being rather selfish not everything is about you. you’ve always been like this.”

“jack, i know you’re upset, i am too, please don’t take this out on me.”

“get out the car.”

“well stop the car then for fuck sake, i’m not getting injured because of you.”

as soon as jack pulled over, you got out and began the walk home, your vision became blurry due to the tears forming as you watched jack drive away. you ended up sitting in a cafe for a while to calm down. none of this felt real you pinched yourself, hoping to find out you were stuck in some nightmare. jack must have returned by the time you made it to the cafe as the community was now spamming questions on twitter asking why jack has now left and unfollowed everyone, followed by your mods telling you to check twitter. your fan base were hurt as their favourite streamers were falling apart and blocking each other. followed by them asking why you’ve not been streaming, you felt like you were going crazy as everyone else was able to stream and enjoyed doing so but you were struggling to stream with no one laughing in the background. you ended up sending a dm to your discord announcements knowing that they’ll share the news.

y/n: so long, goodbye for now. you guys have been extremely supportive over the past 15 years. however there is a lot going on right now (i’ll spare you all the details) i’m going to be taking a break for a while. after all does anybody want to joke when no one’s laughing in the background? i’m sure we’ll meet again, until then my loves!

10 minutes later you decided you should probably go home to the others, after all they’re all you have left.

“i promise to never go outside again.”

as soon as you walked into the house rather than being met with tubbo asking if you were okay, you were met with a notification.

*bo has left the chat*

he stood with his bags near the door

“this is all your fault, i can’t look at you anymore”

“you’re really joking in a time like this...right?”

“you were looking for a reason hide again.”

“trust me buddy i found it.”

ranboo pulled you as close as he could crying into the crook of your neck, you wrapped your arms around his waist as tubbo left the house. it felt like he took the happy memories with him. as soon as ranboo let go, you ran to your room locking the door trying to hide away from the situation, ranboo sat on the other side of the door not wanting to be alone.

“am i going crazy? would i even know? am i right back where i started 14 years ago?”

“y/n let me in.”

you unlocked the door and practically fell into ranboos arms, once you felt strong enough the pair of you sat on your bed, nothing could separate the pair of you right now, you both lost the people you cared about.

“i swear to god all i ever wanted was a little bit of everything all of the time. i’ve finished playing and i’m staying inside.”

“y/n i’m sorry..”

“im sorry too, ranboo, i guess this is the it.”

“at least we have each other.”

“and that fucking photograph wall.”

“that’s a problem for another night..please get some rest.”

it took a while but eventually you fell asleep in his embrace. you may have lost the others but at least one of your best friends stuck around.

taglist (sorry guys)

@dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @c1loudee

237 notes · View notes

mistaeq · 4 years

Note

Hope u don't mind me requesting again but I was wondering if u could do headcanons for the crusaders with a reader who likes to quote memes or vines like when she's got an idea of some sort she's just like "oh yeah, big brain time" or they're in a fight with an enemy she's like "I'ma bad b*tch you can't kill me", I just wanna see their reaction to someone with that chaotic energy (sorry if this doesn't make sense ':>)

Stardust Crusaders: With a s/o who Quotes Memes and Vines

TW // none

Thank you for your request! I genuinely had a lot of fun writing this idea for these five dorky men <3 enjoy!

Stardust Crusaders with a s/o who's often quoting memes and Vines, had to be fem!s/o, but I didn't need to point out reader's gender while writing, so it turned out kinda neutral.

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

KUJO JOTARO

He's annoyed by your habit most of the time, but he can't deny that sometimes the result is pretty hilarious, above all when you happen to do it when fighting against enemy stand users.

Jotaro was trying to figure out a way to attack without being noticed, to make sure it could be effective and quick, when he heard you whisper "Big brain time", and the second after, you suddenly screamed at the top of your lungs, yeeting your stand against the enemy stand user.

"YOU'RE TRYING TO FUCK WITH MY HOMIES RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?" screeching more or less the same way Stroheim would have done years ago, you guide your attack, your stand successfully making the enemy retire.

He tries to look annoyed and pissed, but you still managed to win, and he must admit he's a proud boyfriend. Jotaro is silently complimenting you, in his mind. Still, he scolds you. You acted in an irresponsible way and you could get really hurt.

When you see him so pissed over your behavior, all you manage to do is trying to ignore him. "Y/n, I'm not done with you." you usually shrug. "...Hi Not Done With You, I'm y/n."

Sometimes you both wonder how did such different people like you two end up together. But to be honest, Jotaro getting worried over you is something you enjoy, and seeing you so confident in your fighting skills makes Jotaro feel all proud and relieved you're not breaking down.

JOSEPH JOESTAR

He doesn't really know what these hilarious sentences are, but hearing you quoting them always gives him a reason to say he's in a good mood despite the pressure DIO puts on your lives.

The six of you were on your way to Pakistan, just before your fight with Wheel Of Fortune, and you were sitting right next to Joseph. Out of boredom, you both were reading the road signs, and you took the occasion to be yourself.

"Road Work Ahead..." Joseph read out loud. You snorted, and rested your head on your hand, smiling at him, and answering, whispering to not to annoy your fellow crusaders. "Uh, yeah, I sure hope it does." The man loudly laughed, scaring Polnareff who was driving.

Unfortunately, after that hilarious moment, you got really hurt in the fight against Wheel Of Fortune, and before even thinking of driving a kilometer more, they had to be sure you were okay. You really looked dead.

Much to Joseph's relief, after he pulled you up from the ground, holding you tight in his arms and caressing your hair a couple of times, you opened your eyes. And noticed his ones were almost teary. Did he get that much scared?

You immediately smiled, not wanting to see him like that. You pulled a thumb up, a smug grin on your face. "I'm a bad bitch, he can't kill me." the man laughed, tenderly kissing your forehead and letting you back in the car.

MUHAMMAD AVDOL

He knows what those quotes are. Avdol doesn't really mind them, he finds those genuinely funny. But he minds them when you fuck up your protection just because you want to quote those.

He particularly remembers that time you were with Polnareff, when a clone of Avdol himself and a clone of Jean's sister, Sherry, were created by an enemy stand user. He was watching the two of you from afar, just before joining you and saving you. As soon as you saw the clone of your boyfriend, you eyed at Polnareff.

"Are you telling me you asked for THIS thing, Jean? This is not Avdol, this is some flesh without his feelings! This bitch's EMPTY!" your strong stand picked up the clone, and threw him violently on the ground, over Polnareff's head. "YEET!"

When you did that, it took no time for the clone to rip off a bite of your leg, and you couldn't express how much it hurt. When you learnt that the actual Avdol was there too, much to Polnareff's surprise since he didn't know anything, you immediately scolded your boyfriend.

"You could come and help a little sooner... mother trucker, dude. That bite hurt like a buttcheek on a stick." Avdol stayed silent for a couple of seconds, before bursting into a laughter with you, kissing your lips. "I missed you so much, babe."

Avdol spent the following twenty minutes in checking on you and making sure you had no more severe wounds that could interfere with your trip to Egypt. He's pretty apprehensive, when it comes to you.

KAKYOIN NORIAKI

He totally knows what those quotes are and laughs with you on those. It's likely for you and Noriaki to understand each other and communicate through memes and Vine quotes. It happens to be useful to talk without enemies understanding you.

The crusaders have plenty of war flashbacks of you and Kakyoin acting weird because of those. For example, the time you were walking with your boyfriend, along with Jotaro and Anne. You genuinely tried to hold back from quoting vines around Jotaro, but as soon as a man threw a paper on the ground and not in the bin, you two screamed.

"WHOEVER THREW THAT PAPER, YOUR MOM'S A HOE!" that's one of the reasons that pushed Jotaro and Anne to isolate themselves from the actual Kakyoin and the actual you, being attacked by Rubber Soul afterwards.

Rubber Soul and his fellow enemy stand users were an infuriating thing for you and Kakyoin. Last time you had a talk together, understanding they were only serving DIO for money, you found yourselves pissed off. Like for real.

"We here not having the money for some chicken nuggets and still helping Jotaro and Mr. Joestar for FREE and y'all want a hundred thousand dollars from a naked vampire? Not gonna happen, Karen!"

You're able to bring out the loudest part of Noriaki, since none of the crusaders like the same stuff of this type the way he does. You often call each other "dude" or "bitch" - regardless of your genders, in fact you called him a bitch several times -, even if you're an actual couple.

JEAN PIERRE POLNAREFF

He doesn't really know what those quotes are, but he finds it hilarious when you say them, and gets interested in it, so that he can get the reference when you repeat those. He starts saying those too, afterwards.

It happened when you met Hol Horse, a fast, precise bullet coming towards you, as you and Polnareff moved a little, but enough for the bullet to get in the little space between you, leaving you safe and sound. It had scared you, you weren't gonna lie, and in both your minds, a perfect vine quote appeared.

"Ah, stooop. We coulda dropped our croissant." if that quote wasn't perfect to be said with your boyfriend... nothing else could ever be. You both laughed, as Hol Horse realized he was alone against two people, and before you could say anything more, he was running away.

Teaching vine and memes quotes to Polnareff is the cutest thing ever, because you know he's gonna use them sometime, with your fellow crusaders or with enemies. But he doesn't have a great memory, and will need your help.

"Next time you put your fuckin' hands on me, imma fucking... babe help." no wonder Enyaba was staring at you two with a scared and confused look on her face. "...rip your face off..." you helped him. "...rip your face off." Polnareff repeated. "...bitch." you added, whispering. "Putain." you choked on your breath, did Jean fucking say bitch in french?

Polnareff has no chill, if you're willing to risk it all for a vine quote, he'll fucking do it with you, no matter what. Jotaro wants you two dead.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo x reader #jojo part three #stardust crusaders #jotaro kujo #jotaro x reader #joseph joestar #joseph x reader #muhammad avdol #avdol x reader #noriaki kakyoin #kakyoin x reader #jean pierre polnareff #polnareff x reader #jojo headcanons

1K notes · View notes

realcube · 3 years

Text

sleepy haikyuu headcanons 💤

pairings: nishinoya x reader, tendō x reader, kageyama x reader

tw// swearing, violence(?), she//her reader, angst, overthinking, fluff

Yū Nishinoya

midnight pillow fights with Noya 💓

i could leave at that but i shall elaborate

whenever you sleepover at his house (or vice versa), every time y’all say that you are gonna pull an all-nighter and have chaotic fun

but it never works because being chaotic requires a lot of energy, so you both end up falling asleep at like 2AM-ish 🥱

the closest that y’all have gotten to an all-nighter is 5AM

anyway, it’s not a tradition - more like something that just ends up happening every time Noya is over, perhaps a curse lol

but at some time of night, you’ll say something to irk Noya and he’ll throw/hit you with a pillow

not to intentionally start shit but just as playful ‘shut up’ sorta thing

but something about the sharp impact of the pillow just pisses you off and you instinctively launch a pillow right back at him and it’s always a bit harder than you meant for it to be

thus, a pillow fight ensues

Noya had always envisioned a pillow fight with a female as a playful, sensual experience

but there was absolutely nothing playful or sensual about the way you powerbombed him and then proceeded to suffocate him with your pillow

you would both be feistily beating each other with the pillow, the room filling with your battle cries and screams ╰（‵□′）╯

and this would only end once both of your harsh, quick hits turned sloppy and tired

eventually, you’d both just drop unconscious during the fight and wake up in the weirdest positions

Satori Tendō

he is the self-certified ‘worst cuddler’ (ಥ _ ಥ)

not only is he extremely sensitive to temperature, he’s also filled with too much energy to just stay in the same position with you for god knows how long

it’s not that he didn’t like to cuddle, though. 🥺 i mean, nothing made him feel more safe than you in his arms but he was just unable to stop himself from getting restless when he did it for too long

but there were some nights that he wasn’t as fidgety, though

most of the time, it was after a big volleyball game or a hard day at practise and he was absolutely exhausted (_　_)。゜zｚＺ

he’d literally just detours to your house to catch up like he usually does but his demeanour clearly isn’t the same when he’s worn out so you invite him in for a few minutes and he’d gladly (and gratefully) accepts

he’d just flop down on the couch beside you, his arms just automatically finding your waist and thoughtlessly pulling you against his chest as he laid back, staring at the ceiling

he found himself muttering random things about his day when you asked him, but nothing he said seemed to be in chronological order - unless he brushed his teeth during volleyball practise, which - now that you think about it - doesn’t sound too out of character for him.

his hand found it’s way into your hair and started caressing your scalp, slowly drifting off as the little tune you hummed into his shoulder sent relaxing vibration throughout his body (￣o￣) . z Z

and this wasn’t a one-time thing either, whenever he comes to your house drained from practise, a similar chain of events always end up happening

the only difference being that sometimes it was in your bed rather than on the couch

Tobio Kageyama

i feel like bb has nightmares, like frequently 🥺

i mean, if i was him i’d have nightmares too; he has so much important shit riding on his performance - it’s a miracle that this man can even sleep with how much stress he must be under

like, he’s kinda failing school/ he doesn’t have the best grades and if he doesn’t do well on tests then his opportunity to go to camps and train volleyball could be taken

speaking of volleyball, he probably is so stressed from being a part of a team and having people rely on him - not the mention that he clearly isn’t very good at processing his feelings considering that he expresses most negative emotion he feels towards Hinata in the form of anger

then there is the pressure of keeping his relationships and not naturally distancing himself from the people he loves

like you, for example

he goes to bed with all these horrible thoughts in his head and whenever he tries to think positive, it always backfires

he’ll be like ‘i’m the worst person to be around, it’s clear nobody likes me.’

then he kinda shakes it off like, ‘wait, no. don’t think that. i know that (Y/N) loves me and i love her back.’

but his mind never leaves him alone, ‘am i even sure she loves me? i mean, i act so stand-offish towards her - yeah, she probably barely tolerates me. and she was talking about hinata’s spike yesterday, she’s probably going to dump me for him.’

it was a heart-wrenching thought but what could kageyama do?

for now, he’d just lie down beside you on your bed as you scrolled away on your phone, completely unaware that he just mentally rehearsed how he was going to react when you broke up with him

“goodnight, kags. love you.” you hummed, turning around to place a kiss on his cheeks like you always do when he sleeps over

kageyama nodded, trying to act cool and collected despite the fact he was internally nervous as hell, “night, (y/n).” he paused, trying his best to lift the corners of his lips into a kind - rather than intimidating - smile, “love you too.”

‘look, i called her by her first name - i’m so romantic.’ that was probably the nicest thing he’s thought to himself all day

with that, you both try to get some rest

aaaannnndddddd cue the part when he wakes up in a cold sweat, shivering slightly as he looks over to you with wide eyes to reassure himself that your not gone

his heavy breathing alerts you that he is awake so you pry one eye open to look at him, “not again, tobio.” you said wearily, forcing yourself to sit up and attempt to wrap him in a hug but he just jerked away from your touch

you sighed, “what happened?”

kageyama blinked rapidly, darting his gaze around the room before it finally landed back on you

“i- the walls- and you were almost d-” he began coughing, resulting in you immediately reaching over to your nightstand and handing him the bottle of water you had lying there

he took a few gulps before letting out a refreshed ‘ah’, his stare glued to your lips the whole time

eventually, he was able to grumble “it was nothing.” (⊙_⊙;)

upon hearing his evidently fake answer, you shoved out your bottom lip and whined, “shut up, tobio. i was obviously something; why won’t you tell me?”

“because it was nothing.” he said without missing a beat, then he proceeded to lay down so he could fall back asleep - as if this time it’d go better for him

“Kageyama!” you barked, resulting his eyes jolting back open, “You always have nightmares at my house; I’m starting to wonder if you’re scared of me or something.”

kageyama shook his head before nonchalantly responding, “it’s the cherry blossom air freshener - maybe use vanilla or something next time.” he joked, unable to resist a smile as you playfully punched his shoulder.

you sighed, clearly not going to get an answer out of like every other time you’ve tired, so you just decided to try fall back asleep and try reclaim the little bit of sanity you had left

“(y/n).” kageyama grumbled, wanting to make it seem like he was half-asleep but he was far from it as he pulse was still going crazy as that nightmare shook his to the core. “are you going to dump me? because if you are, now would be a good time.”

he spoke, praying to every deity he could think of that you wouldn’t say yes - but if you did, now would be a good time as he could storm out and since it was dark outside, the streets would be deserted meaning that nobody would be there to witness the tears streaming down his cheeks as he sprinted through the night

you rolled your eyes, “is that what this is about?” you didn’t mean for it to come off so harsh as you actually felt a great amount of sympathy for kageyama but just unable to express it in the way you desired

“stop crying.” you hissed, making kageyama quirk an eyebrow.

“I’m not crying-” he replied until suddenly, he realised that your comment was directed at yourself as you hastily buried your head into his chest and he felt something soak through the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m not going to break up with you kageyama, you stupid moron idiot!” you snapped against his shirt.

don’t ask why that nickname made kageyama’s heart flutter

“get those crazy ideas out of your head or i’ll have to take them out for you 🔪--” you could barely even finish your sentence before both you and kageyama burst out laughing

it was probably just the ambience of being cozy under a blanket with each other in a freezing cold room that reeked of cherry blossom but some how you both some how fell even harder for one another

although what you said wasn’t the most moving or motivating, your intention was clear and from then on, kageyama was a lot more upfront with you💕

he’d tell you if he ever felt uncomfortable or if he was ever worried and you’d either make him feel better or make him laugh and then insist that he goes to talk to suga or daichi

also after that night, (and once you ditched the air freshener and started burning vanilla essence) he only had ‘sweet dreams’ whenever he stayed over at yours

(or at least that is what he said whenever you asked him. in reality, his dreams were about volleyball and tsukishima chasing him through the mall on a velociraptor but whatever, it was a step up from the nightmares anyway. 🏃‍♂️ 🦖 )

244 notes · View notes

sigynpenniman · 3 years

Text

Julian Bashir Playlist Time!!

Apple Music playlist (if you're a heathen and subscribe to apple music like me) here

I know that there's plenty of people making playlists, but I really feel like this is an under-utilized brand of fan content. Instead of attempting to create a list of songs that Julian would listen to, or a playlist of songs which were all lyrically directly applicable (though there certainly some of those in here) regardless of genre, I tried to create something which captured, above all, his vibes instead, by choosing songs that balance at least somewhat relevant lyrical content with the energy or feel that I associate with the character. What it means matters, but not as much as how it makes you feel. That said, I signed up for apple music and read a TON of those overwrought iTunes store album review descriptions while I was making this, so I have a whole lot to say about all my choices here. In depth explanation of my symbolism and methodology behind each song under the keep reading. (I love tumblr. I want to write 1,000 words of analysis about why I picked songs to represent Julian Bashir and some of you are gonna read it. This is where I get to pretend to be one of those iTunes music writers. I feel joy.)

Good Morning - Two Door Cinema Club TDCC's Gameshow is high on my favorite albums of all time list for nebulous reasons I myself don't really understand. It was this album, though not this song (but one that will pop up later) that actually inspired me to make this playlist to begin with, as for some reason, from the color scheme of the album cover, to the overall vibe, to the ever-present references to illness, injury, surgery and healers in the lyrics, the whole thing feels inescapably Julian to me. And with an opening like I'm a sinner/I'm the victim/I'm an alien when I'm myself/I'm a healer/I'm a fixer/I'm a present danger to my health/I'm so strong/Doing what I'm supposed to do/ There's something wrong/With somebody like me, it's hard NOT to think about Julian when you hear this song, and I can't think of a better way to start this off.

Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood I think there's a joke somewhere about bisexual people all liking Sweater Weather, and yeah, I resemble that remark. Sweater Weather is just good. You'll notice there's a sort of chill-indie-alt-electronic thing going here, and that is very much the vibe I'm sticking with. Sweater Weather slots in beautifully, both sonically and thematically. As the singer looks to warm and protect the person he's with from the cold, you can't help but feel a loving coziness coming off of this one. It always makes me feel cozy, at least, so it's here.

Gooey - Glass Animals I have nothing to analyze here because the artists themselves have said that the lyrics of this song have no meaning, they're just meant to capture a vibe, and capture it they do. Close your eyes and ride the vibes of this one. The energy is right, I love it, it belongs here.

Blue - Mika I could probably write a couple hundred words on Blue alone, in any context. This might be my beloved Mika's magnum Opus. Opening the song with the inherently counterintuitive lyric Blue is a feminine color, Mika manages to pack it ALL into this 3 minute song: questions about gender; concepts of sadness, joy, and their intersections; of the perception of melancholy as a flaw and loving people despite, or maybe because of, those "flaws" and anything else about them; a powerful first person reassurance that made me start weeping in my car the first time I heard it; just the phrase "why are humans cruel to you." And oh boy, ARE there questions of gender. Why is blue NOT considered a feminine color? Is that a good thing, a bad thing? In 3 minutes of artful poetry, Mika manages to wrap up sadness, love, joy, pain, the feminine that exists within the masculine and the masculine that exists within the feminine, in the simple color of blue and then, in one lyric, validates it all. And on a much simpler and more obvious note, this is in fact all a philosophic musing on the symbolic meaning of the color we see Julian wearing almost all the time (when he's not in uniform, almost all his civvies are also shades of blue.) I feel like this is one of those songs that's hard to analyze because it does what music and poetry does best - communicate something that cannot be communicated any other way. With these broad themes of loving others around the things they can't love about themselves, you can decide for yourself if this one is coming FROM Julian or directed AT him, either works. I find myself struggling for exactly the words to explain this one, but listen to it; you'll understand.

Little Dark Age - MGMT Another choice with no obvious lyrical relevance, but the tonal fit was just too good to pass up. The vibes pass.

The City - The 1975 This song is one of several present because it leans on medical symbolism to get its point across, though I would be lying if I said I fully understood what that point was. But the entire second verse, apparently about the song's subject suffering from some kind of illness and reassuring him that the next one's the M.D./You'll be feeling just fine, seems somehow to transmit the discomfort of illness directly to the listener. I don't know how or why, but the effectiveness of the empathy the second half of this song elicits, in me at least, puts it squarely in the "odd medical vibes" category.

Surgery - Two Door Cinema Club THIS is the song that inspired this whole playlist, mostly because of its title and general vibe. Another example (of many) of medical/anatomical references in this album (another of the songs is called Fever, etc), this song just feels like Julian to me.

The Other Side Of Paradise - Glass Animals I really like Glass Animals. That is probably becoming obvious. Aside from its delightfully cohesive vibes, this song opens with what's simultaneously the slyest and most brazen gay lyric I have heard on the radio recently, as the male singer says When I was young and stupid my love left to be a rock and roll star/HE told me... The song seems to be about a man whose male lover left him in pursuit of fame and fortune, and eventually ends up with a woman, leaving the singer behind. It's got simultaneously subtle and obvious gay themes, it's got confused love affairs, it's got so much bisexual energy. I cannot think of anything that could be more Julian.

Sit Next To Me - Foster The People Kind of like Sweater Weather, this whole song is built around a rather cute and sweet "sit next to me," and you can't help but feel a bit warm and cozy when you listen to it. I think it pairs with sweater weather well, and slides in with the rest of the picks very nicely.

Nothing Better - The Postal Service (the original band of the lead singer of Death Cab For Cutie) Another example of heavy surgical symbolism, the very first lyric of this song is Will someone please call a surgeon. This is actually a duet, and the singers speak of their real hearts to represent their emotional ones. Something about Your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures always gets me and always will. And it vibes good. It vibes so, so good.

&Run - Sir Sly Sir Sly's &Run is my favorite song for driving too fast. It does an amazing job of musical onomatopoeia, talking about running while making you want to run. It's a song about running out of plans and running as far as you can instead, which is all very "I'm illegal by definition so I went to the farthest possible reaches of space." And like everything else here, it just feels good. It's also one of the only highlights here that I can actually see Julian listening to.

Cosmic Love - Florence and the Machine It's no coincidence that it seems like most of us who are invested in Julian Bashir are some flavor of genderqueer, be it trans, nonbinary, questioning, or something else entirely - the man's got a Gender with a capital G, and there's a whole lot going on in there. Between the words that were written for him on the page, and the words that were actually spoken, and the way he carries himself, Julian always seems caught between the white, western, and frequently toxic masculinity that the writers often seemed to want to imbue him with, and the very different, racially and culturally distinct masculinity Sid actually brought. But there's an undeniable element of the feminine in Julian too, at least by a traditional definition. The presence of this part of him at all, much less the fact that, in-universe, it's the more traditionally "feminine" parts of himself - the caregiving and nurturing aspects - that Julian seems proudest of or to like most about himself, is a large part of what makes his character so interesting, at least to me. So there was no way I was getting out of this without acknowledging that somehow, and I can't think of a better way to acknowledge a complicated relationship with the feminine side of one's own gender than with this world's own Celtic divine feminine, Florence Welch. I can't think of any better artist, at least that I know of, to represent femininity as a nonspecific ethereal goddess-concept. I basically spun the wheel of Florence here, as anything would have worked, but Cosmic Love felt very appropriate for a character who does in fact live in space. There could even be some Garashir in here, I think.

Dream Sweet In Sea Major - ミラクルミュージカル, or Miracle Musical, a sister act made up of members of Tally Hall I also couldn't leave off without acknowledging Julian's affection for classic lounge music, especially since it's the only thing about his taste in music that we actually know. But instead of tacking on some rat pack, instead I'm polishing this off with the incredibly chaotic and somehow also perfectly cohesive and calm Dream Sweet in Sea Major. It's got all of the vibes of a lounge singer but gone completely off the rails, which just seems perfect somehow. And it's also a very nice feeling to be left with, so it seems only right to put it at the end.

and if you've read all of this, I love you. Y'all didn't know I was this into music did you. but I am. oh boy. I AM.

#julian bashir #playlists #Spotify

27 notes · View notes

aurabird · 3 years

Text

To Seek Redemption

So this is based off of something my braincell that desires fluff came up with.

Something happens that causes the Hels!Hermits to become helpful, caring, and empathetic like their counterparts. No more hierarchy and anarchy, no more bloodshed and violence, just pure, familial energy and fluff. Basically, they all obtain morals and eventually the line between Hermit and Helsmit is no more.

This relies strongly on headcannons and things regarding Helsmit/Hermit first encounters are left vague on purpose for the reader to fill in because I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes :3

No major TWs, just mentions of violence, blood, and injuries.

==================================================

The Hels Dimension was a brutal place, an eternal battleground where anarchy was the norm and the hierarchy brutal. The denizens of this dimension said to be the worst traits of their Overworld counterparts incarnated or their best traits without any moral boundaries.

Those that lived within Hermitcraft’s Hels Dimension; Helscraft as they’d become to be called, referred to themselves as Helsmits as they sought to not only overpower each other, but also make the lives of their other halves miserable.

Of course, not every Helsmit was a monster, some were simply pranksters, simply finding enjoyment in teasing their counterparts because the reactions amused them; nuisances that just wouldn’t go away.

But, despite all of this, how would players such as the Helsmits react…when everything they knew, all the violence they partook in, just went away? Was replaced by feelings they didn’t understand or hated?

==================================================

The time-dilation known as lag was not a new concept to the denizens of Helscraft; after all, several of them used the enigmatic force as a weapon or safeguard for their territory, slowing down any would-be usurpers enough to gain an upper hand.

What WAS new, however, was that this time, lag stopped their world completely. No one moved, no one spoke; for only a few moments all was still…

…until it wasn’t.

When the world began to move again the Helsmits knew something had changed, feelings of vengeance and hatred were gone, replaced by emotions they did not understand; that some of them even despised. Empathy, compassion, the desire for familial companionship.

Those locked in combat sheathed their weapons, taking steps back from each other before apologizing. Those that kept themselves locked in impenetrable fortresses left their isolation and sought out the Helsmit nearest to them to simply talk and for comfort due to their isolation. Those that had gotten the last of their territory stolen from them had it returned.

And those that sought power within the hierarchy? Well, who said that having friends didn’t count as power?

Traps set up to kill and torment were disabled, and selfishly-hoarded resources distributed to those with few or none.

It was difficult at first to come to grasps with the sudden morals and emotions they'd acquired, for some, the phrase of “I hate being nice” became popular, being uttered by several of them defeatedly when they attempted to be anything but friendly to each other.

But eventually the Helsmits grew used to their new emotions, enjoyed them even. Sure they were all still competitive with each other, that was a trait no strange force could change, but now it was more friendly and lighthearted. Some even tried to act like the 'evil counterparts' they'd once been in a joking manner.

The Hesmits knew that things had changed, that their old ways of life were now gone.

They'd all gathered at their Town Hall, the first building they'd made since they'd all become friends, looking upon a portal with nervousness and uncertainty. Not a portal to the Nether, nor a portal to the End. No, this portal was to the Overworld.

It'd been Helskinght that discovered how to conjure the gateway, the purple swirls framed by blocks of crying obsidian. At one point this structure had been fought over and the land around it once stained crimson with Helsmit blood.

The area had been completely terraformed since then, making this location both a reminder of the past and the present. None of them had their weapons or tools, just the clothes on their backs, food, and basic building blocks. After all, they'd come here for one reason alone.

Now that they’d mended the conflicts that had once divided them, perhaps it was time to do the same with those that saw them as nothing but evil interlopers seeking to cause only destruction and misery.

Yes, it was time to ask their overworld counterparts, the Hermits, for forgiveness. The final step they'd all need to reach complete redemption.

"You think they'll accept it after everything some of us have done?" asked someone from the gathered crowd, "We've been silent for so long too, how do you think they'll react to us all coming at the same time?"

The two questions had no definite answers, as only a few Helsmits had even interacted with their overworld counterparts. Then again, those that had awful experiences no doubt spread the seeds of distrust throughout the entirety of Hermitcraft.

A Helsmit in ebony-plated armor and wearing a helmet sighed. Since the reforming of their society Helsuma had been the appointed the Admin of Helscraft, though unlike his counterpart, he lacked the powers that came with said title.

"There is only one way to find out." he said with uncertain confidence before taking his first steps through the passage, his fellow Helsmits following not far behind.

------

Their arrival on the main street of the Cowmercial District was met with mixed reactions. Fear, disdain, and confusion the most common but surprise could also be seen on the faces of some Hermits.

Those that knew their Helscraft counterparts had drawn their swords and bows, netherite blades and enchanted arrows aimed directly at them, ready to strike at the slightest sign of aggression.

It was Xisuma that broke the silent tension, his calm, accented voice holding the strength of a leader as he addressed the crowd before him. “Well, this is definitely a surprise.” he said as he took a few steps forward, taking note of the fact some of the newcomers flinched or tensed up at his advance. “I didn’t expect all of you to show up at once, let alone completely unarmed.”

The person who then walked out from the crowd of Helsmits was a surprise to the overworld Admin. Every Hermit supposedly had a counterpart of their own in Helscraft, but X hadn’t exactly been ready to meet his.

Features and attire were identical to his own, though their skin was marred with horrible scars and their black-plated armor boasted several gashes; fiery-orange eyes far more exhausted than his own violet ones shone with desperation.

“Careful, X.” Wels warned with a growl, cerulean gaze narrowed and locked with the red one of Helsknight, “They aren’t to be trusted.”

If the silver-armored knight had seen the hurt in Hels’ expression at those words, he didn’t react to it.

X ignored the given warning and faced his counterpart without fear or hesitation, “What brings you all to the Overworld like this? Clearly it isn’t an invasion.”

Helsuma spoke, his voice simply a deeper, more rough version of X’s. “We…we all…we all wish to ask forgiveness.” he struggled to say before looking behind him at his fellow Helsmits, “Those of us that you know the actions of more than others.”

“Why the change of heart?” came a Hermit’s confused but sharp tone as they gazed upon one that looked almost exactly like they did, no doubt remembering bitterly what their first meeting with their counterpart was like.

“Honestly, we have no idea.” came a voice from the Helsmits, “Everything just…stopped one day, like lag but for longer than a few seconds. After that, well, some of us noticed that we felt emotions alien to us, urges to be…friends, not enemies or rivals; to share and not take.”

“You learned what morals are? I find that hard to believe.”

At the comment Hels turned his head to Wels, arms crossed “Whether you believe it or not, if we sought to invade the overworld for malicious goals today, we would have done so already.”

Grian, surprisingly, was the one that came to the dark knight’s defense “You know, Wels, not all of them are incarnations of our evil.” he commented from his place on steps to the Town Hall. “Take Xelqua, my counterpart for example.“ he began, motioning to the Helsmit that was a splitting image of him save a pair of purple wings that sparkled with stars; the cloak around them bearing a strange symbol, “He’s the one that was mixing up the stuff in your guy’s sorting systems and renaming all your diamonds!”

Mumbo shot the man a look, “Seriously mate? You interacted on a friendly level with your counterpart as opposed to some of us and didn’t think to tell anyone of it?”

“Uh...no. Kinda slipped my mind actually.”

Scar spoke next, having spotted BadTimes in the center of the group; the skeletal vex wings protruding from their back a sign of the part of himself he’d cast away when he decided to reject the control of the chaotic fae he’d once been bound to. “Well, I for one believe in second chances.” he said with a grin, noticing the eyes of several Helsmits light up, “Sure it may take time for us to all trust each other but if they are counterparts of us and we’re Hermits, what’s to say they can’t be too?”

“Scar is right!” chimed Zedaph, “Look at Exy! He was all scary and stuff and he ended up being nice in the end!”

The streets were silent once more as Hermit and Helsmit alike looked at Xisuma, awaiting the verdict of the situation. The Admin thought hard about the dilemma he was faced with. His fellow Hermits all made good points and, when given proof, X was one to forgive.

He saw the looks in the eyes of their counterparts; fear, desperation, hope. He’d made the mistake of condemning his brother to the banvoid, and though they’d made up since then, it didn’t change the fact that he’d left Ex alone, abandoned, and scared when all the man had needed was guidance.

No, he could not simply turn them away, he couldn’t send them back to their dimension and find a way to seal them in there forever.

“I do not speak for all the Hermits, especially given the history some of you have with them.” he began, “However, I am willing to give you all a chance. Do not make me regret my decision.”

------

The rules Xisuma had applied to them were simple and the Admin had made it perfectly clear that they’d all be watched closely, both by him and the Hermits they interacted with.

For some, it was easy to befriend their counterparts, alike in many ways, yet still different enough to be their own person. Others had a more difficult time, uneasy truces and silent tension sparking between them.

But, time heals all wounds, and the line that separated Hermits and Helsmits eventually disappeared. Denizens of both the Overworld and Helscraft began to come and go between their realms freely, taking ideas and inspirations from each other, playing minigames as if they’d all been friends from the beginning.

Getting to the End was impossible from Helscraft, so the Helsmits had always secretly been baffled by the silvery wings that allowed their counterparts to fly around. With the befriending of each other, however, they were being taught through trial and error (mostly error, actually) how they worked and the freedom that came with Elytra flight.

It wasn’t uncommon now for the trio of team ZIT to be seen planning crazy ideas with their counterparts and teasing each other, unsurprisingly both Grian and Xelqua managed to start yet another war, and the silent chaos of shenanigans from Etho and his counterpart were never discovered until it was too late.

False and True could often be seen sparring, as could Wels and Hels; though the duo of knights usually did so through both physical combat and song.

Scar and Cub would be seen working on projects with their counterparts, laughing and remembering the times when they were once one in the same, but yet still glad to be their own individual players.

Bdubs and his phantom-featured counterpart would sometimes argue over who was the fastest of them to get to sleep ("And how are you faster? Last I checked beds blow up in Hels ya stupid!" "Not since X gave Helsuma Admin powers they haven't ya fool!"), though neither of them would win because someone else would sleep away the night while they bickered.

Ex had even returned from his journey of self-discovery, completely confused at first and then began pouting when he learned that he didn’t have a Helscraft counterpart of his own to cause mischief with. With a laugh, Helsuma had offered to be the counterpart of both brothers.

------

It was several months later when the two Admins stood on the roofs of their Town Halls, smiles on their faces as they overlooked the antics below them; Hermits and Helsmits alike interacting harmoniously. With the union of their respectful dimensions their families had doubled in size.

And both of them couldn’t have been any happier.

#hermitcraft au #helscraft #hels!hermits #evil hermits #fluff and angst #the helsmits are a chaotic family your honor #I'm a sucker for redeption arcs #Grian's counterpart is a gremlin like him #but has all the Watcher traits and regalia #Ex isn't from Helscraft either #he's a copy of X's code that got created by acident #he also wasn't permabanned in S6 #him and X made up and he went on a journey of self discovery #cub & scar's counterparts are parts of their souls that they split from when they decided to reject using Vex magic #like I said at the start this relies heavilly on headcannons #my writing #hermitblr

72 notes · View notes

shegairowmyamo · 3 years

Text

the younger sibling of the cheshire cat pt 2

Sometimes when you fancy yourself a treat and don't have the energy to steal from the Queen you head over to the March Hare and Mad Hatters tea party and sit in one of the chairs and wait until one of the hooligans notices your presence. And the one to realize that you are there is surprisingly the Dormouse, they could smell the steans of a mistuves felin from a mile away. The Dormouse was hesitant at first but when they saw your wicked smile they let out an ear piercing scream alerted the previously singing fools and chaos erupted. You however watched in amusement at your work as the Mad Hatter and the March Hare tried to catch the Dormouse. After a while it got quite boring, so you took the treat you came for and left with a peap in your paws. You and the Cheshire cat were never really invited to their tea party because of this reason, but that didn't mean that it didn't leave a salty taste in your mouth. The Cheshire cat knows that look in your face and scolds you in a joking manner but he couldn't be any prouder. Like brother, like sister I guess.

Sometimes you will end each other's sentences, whether that is on purpose is anybody's guess.

You both love playing mind games with anyone you meet, no one is safe, not even the Queen but that should be obvious by now.

Believe it or not both of you are great listeners but the way you convey your opinion on the matter sounds like you don't have a clue.

The residents of wonderland are lucky that you both have limits to your chaos, but yours is much more flexible. But sometimes Cheshire doesn't have the same energy as you do when it comes to this.

You like to sleep on the open gras as the sun shines down upon you but be expected to be rudely woken up by someone that got caught in the crossfire of your chaos.

Cheshire would never expose your weak side to anyone but that doesn't stop him from being annoying about it, unless it's serious. Like I discussed in the previous headcanon thingi.

As much as he would sacrifice his life for you he would also just as much sell you soul for a cornchip.

Often in big gatherings when one of you is spotted the other is close nearby. Both of you are inseparable when among the many residents of wonderland. half of them being victims of your trix.

Remember when I compared you to the orange kitten? Well I've got some insight on that. The moment you find a room full of art supplies and paint, oh this place is gonna be in ruen. RIP to whoever owns the place. Knocking buckets full of paint off of high places is so satisfying, just watching the bright color splatter across the floor making the concrete (or whatever floor tile thingi) stand out more. Making a water slide out of paint and sliding down it while getting paint all over your furr. You walk on the sealing, on the walls, brush yourself against multiple pieces of furniture and role yourself on the floor. If your brother is there then he will definitely use you as a paint roller. It makes you all dizzy but it's fun. And to end your terror you finish off by planting your face in a multitude of colors and make the Cheshire cat™ stampe on the wall, with a grinning face and all.

None of you have a coherent sleep pattern which means that sometimes you will be so cunfertibole that you will sleep through a whole day(s). Your brother, however, has a bit more control over his sleep schedule and won't hesitate to rudely wake you up if it's an important event. Or just for shits and giggles.

You are the equivalent of Chaotic neutral and your brother is true neutral.

Sometimes yet not often you will visit the library (or whoever has one) and try to read. But you have the attention span of a goldfish and the next few hours will be spent just looking at the pictures and making a story out of that. Or zoning out and just making a world in your head from the first thing that popped into your mind. It makes you frustrated however and it can lead to you ripping the pages and feeling kinda guilty afterwards. The Cheshire cat notices this and tries to come up with ways to help you but in a subtle way, you know how he is. Like reading the stories out loud to you before sleep, or try to reenact the scene from the story into real life.

If both of you had your own theme songs then yours would be “excited troublesome little calico cat theme”. And the Cheshire cats would be “Ghost Story Cat Theme” on youtube. Or like his actual song that got cut out of the movie called “i'm odd”.

As a creature of the wild hunt it's natural for your instinct to kick in now and agen, for example, marking territory via scratching on trees. Or pounding at fast moving things, like tree branches or someone's tail. Guess whos. These things don't happen all at once but rather as bursts of actions. It's like when I flap my hands when I get excited or bounce my leg under the table when I look at something that makes me happy.

Sometimes, but not often you will use your cuteness as a kitten to your advantage. Like if you get in an argument or when you get into trouble, most people's response is to aww at your cuteness but Cheshire has seen it so many times that it's more of a reminder of how young you are compared to him. (he's kinda jealous that you can get away so easily)

Both of you have a ball trying to one up each other with how bizarre you can change your shape or see how far you can go without your head. Cheshire is a master at this but he enjoys making you think that you have a chance against him. Just when you think you have done it. Cheshire will come up with an even more ridiculous way to change his body's structure to look like nothing you've seen before, it's creative and a terrifying sight, like a creature out of a fever dream. The first time he did it, it scared you, kinda but after a few hundred times you've become familiar with it.

Sometimes both of you like to sing your hearts out in the moonlight, not caring if all of wonderland hears you.

The world is your playground and you're going to make it known to everyone >:)

link to my Quotev https://www.quotev.com/story/13799094/The-colorful-ferris-wheel-of-my-writings

#Alice in wonderland #Cheshire cat #siblings #my writing #cheshire cat x reader #Alice in wonderland headcanons #cheshire cat headcanons #platonic

40 notes · View notes

chilly-me-softly · 3 years

Text

Every Little Thing’s Gonna Be Alright • Chapter 20

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19

Evelyn waits with folded arms for Lucas to arrive, her right foot not stopping tapping against the floor. As soon as her mother had made her aware of what had happened, annoyance had sprung up inside her, growing stronger and stronger. She couldn't believe it. Yet he'd seemed to agree when they'd talked about it days before, had agreed with her that being alone with her mother still didn't seem like a good idea. That more time was needed, testing the waters. She had left relaxed about that at least, but it turned out she had put her trust in the wrong person. Once again.

She jumps from her seat as soon as the doorbell rings, opening the door and finding herself in front of him, his lips widening into a smile as soon as he sees her. Evelyn remembers to breathe as her mother had suggested only moments before, before letting him in. And she takes one last look at Ben quickly passing by before closing the door to the room behind her.

Convincing everyone to stay out of it had been hard especially since they were all still there in the house, but Lucas was her problem and it was up to her to deal with it. No matter what would happen in there or the screams they would hear, until she came out or specifically asked for their help none of them would be welcome inside those four walls.

"How was your trip?" he asked her as he sat on the edge of her bed, his gaze moving around the room before focusing on her.

"I'm sure you know I didn't ask you here to talk about that" she replies harshly at which he shifts his gaze to the cot a little further away from them.

"Listen Evelyn-"

"What's wrong with you? I just asked you for one thing"

"Yeah we always have to do everything you say. Like I'm some kind of puppet you can move around at your pleasure" the boy stood up abruptly approaching the window and putting a few more inches between them while Evelyn froze for a moment, leaning against the desk, quickly recovering though.

"Excuse me? You don't seem to have put up much of a fight"

"It's because... just how much longer are we supposed to go on like this? With me constantly under examination and you..." the boy runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

"With me what? Thinking about my daughter's sake?"

"No you only think about yourself, that's the point! If you really thought about our daughter's sake... you would've done differently"

"Are you for real?" Evelyn scoffs even more incredulously, "You washed your hands of it as soon as I told you I was pregnant. I spent months alone thinking about how things would go, then you come back tell me a few sweet words and hope everything goes back to the way it was?"

"When are you going to let this go? I can't do this"

"Well then do something to make me change my mind!"

"You won't let me!" Lucas emits a guttural sound before crossing the space between them and standing in front of her, their chests rising and falling rhythmically and her stepping back but finding herself even more trapped against the desk.

"Let's start again. Let's put it all behind us" he murmurs, laying a hand on her cheek, shifting his gaze between her eyes and her lips as she shakes her head slightly, swallowing hard.

"I can't"

"Please Eve, please" his face gets closer and closer, he believes she's finally given in when he sees her close her eyes, their lips only millimetres apart. But in no time Evelyn sighs pushing him away.

"You can't do this. It's not fair" Lucas allows himself to be moved by Evelyn's hands pressing his chest lightly, allowing her to put a considerable amount of space between them again.

"Ever since you came back I've never given you false hope. I tried to be open but I was clear, you could come back into her life but not mine"

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"No, no it isn't. We are two completely different people, you are two completely different people to us. And I can't live a life for my daughter, I have to be happy for her to be happy with me"

Lucas sighs going to sit back down on the bed taking his head in his hands. He looks genuinely torn and Evelyn looks at him unsure of what she should do. She doesn't want to keep feeding whatever is going through his mind, but in the end she chooses to approach him anyway by crouching down in front of him.

"Lucas... what's going on?" she places her hands on his knees moving a thumb over the fabric of his trousers, "you can tell me"

There's no need for a lot of words though. She just needs to see his face when he finally pulls his hands away, his red eyes and trembling hands. Evelyn's eyes also fill with tears as she nods knowingly, biting her lip to keep from giving in just then.

"You're free Lucas. But this time... it will be forever. You won't get another chance" her hoarse, trembling voice, full of emotion, comes out in a whisper as she looks up at him, "I can't do this to her again"

Evelyn closes her eyes, not wanting to see what happens next. Her words clashing with what she expects will actually happen.

"I'm sorry" he croaks leaving her a light kiss on one cheek before running out of that room, leaving her on that floor in disbelief and confused and broken again.

A week later that day, she had found a letter in the mailbox. She'd ripped it in two as soon as she'd seen who it was from, but from inside that envelope a necklace had fallen out. Lucas wasn't used to wearing jewellery of any kind but she'd recognised that necklace, it was one of his favourites. If not his only one.

So she'd put that piece of paper back together where she finally had some explanation. He wrote that he hadn't meant to make fun of her, that he admired her because in spite of everything she fit into that world and made it seem simpler than it really was, while he simply couldn't see himself as a father. Not yet and maybe never after that. In general it had served to put that chapter aside forever or at least until her little girl would have been old enough to understand it all. She had therefore hidden it with the other stuff without telling anyone, thinking it was better that way.

Evelyn hadn't given too many explanations about the moment after everyone had seen Lucas run off visibly upset. It was as if from the moment he'd closed that door behind her, something inside her had snapped too. She didn't care, or maybe she felt so many things to just erased them all and made her feel one big emptiness inside. And everyone in the house seemed to be waiting for her to burst out at any moment.

But she had rolled her sleeves up and got on with her life. She had no power in the decisions and lives of others, everyone does what they feel and it's only necessary to find a way so that whatever happens does not affect us so much. As absurd as it sounded given her history, she would stop dwelling on things too much. If we give too much importance to something or someone it will sooner or later end up hurting us, on the contrary if we don't expect anything, it might surprise us.

It was a first step, it needed a lot of work but she had to think about the present. She was going to choose her battles from that moment on, spending energy only on those who really deserved it. Her daughter, her family and Jack for example.

Time had passed slowly but also so quickly, taking away the last days of the year and starting a new one. Now, more than ever, it was time to make new resolutions, make room for new things and try to do better, always.

That time in their household had always been very chaotic, trying to fit everything in with Ben's busy schedule was always a challenge. But that was what she liked the most, it wasn't a specific day that was special but the whole period. The atmosphere created when everyone got together. It didn't matter if it was two days before Christmas or if it had already been, if they had spoken the day before or if they hadn't heard from each other in months. That day had the power to relax her in a way nothing ever could in her life, and between the confusion and the chatter, time passed without her noticing.

But if so far she had only had to deal with one busy agenda, now there were two of them. Jack had the same or even more workload than Ben and on top of that there was the distance factor.

They had seen little of each other, spending together a day here half a day there at the earliest possible opportunity, time that always seemed to pass quickly when they were together. Seeing each other like this, always in a rush, was in a way worse than not seeing each other at all. Having a taste and nothing more only left a bitter taste at the end of the day.

So one evening out of nowhere she made a decision. She had been lying in bed reading a book, Cece already sleeping soundly, when her mind had started to wonder. She and Jack had agreed that they didn't want to spend another rushed day together just because they had to, he'd have an away game anyway and she'd want to spend her daughter's first Christmas with her family now more than ever.

And she had smiled as she closed the book, occupying the next few hours filling a suitcase with things that she, and the little one especially, might need for a short trip but still with no clear return date for the time being.

She got this feeling in her chest, a mixture of happiness and excitement that would make her jump and clap her hands and laugh uncontrollably for no apparent reason. She hadn't felt this way for so long, she had to admit, and it felt good.

She forces herself to get some rest and in the early hours, after feeding Cece, she heads over to Ben's. The boy sleeps on his side and immediately lets out a sigh as she shakes him lightly.

"Ben" she strokes his hair, crouching down in front of him as he opens his eyes slightly, "I'm going to Jack's. I'll get the car okay?" he mumbles something sketching a smile and closing his eyes as she smiles leaving him a kiss on his cheek before packing up the last of her things and leaving. She leaves him a note on the table for some extra reassurance, just in case, before getting into the car taking one last look at her little girl in the rear view mirror and finally driving off.

----

Hi everyone, I hope you like the chapter. I just wanted to tell you that I've decided about the bonus chapters I was telling you about last week to write them down and publish them at the end all together so as not to create too much confusion x

Tag: @alexajanecollins @emwritesfootball @rosie7703

Chapter 21

#every little thing's gonna be alright #my writing #original #football imagine #football imagines #jack grealish #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish imagines #ben chilwell #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell imagines

22 notes · View notes

cardinal-carvings · 3 years

Text

About: Archex Cal’lien

[ Physical Characteristics ]

Height: 5′11″ Weight: about 200 pounds, maybe give some Body build: well-built, muscular Eye Color: hazel

Glasses or contact lenses: n/a; Archex has better eyesight than any pureblooded human would and is even capable of seeing in the dark.

Hair Color: Best way to describe it is to say it’s not unlike a raven’s feathers-- it’s dark in colour, but not black-- a blue tint is obviously there, especially under the right lighting

Type of hair: somewhat thick, a little course but not in a way that’s unpleasant at all... it’s got a sort of soft, fluffiness to it if it’s allowed to grow out

Hairstyle: Military hair cut back in the Order, but after leaving it grows out and Archex takes to not cutting it down as much. In a way, it’s like breaking free from just another aspect of his life that was micromanaged back before he escaped. In his mercenary verse, Cal’lien actually allows it to grow out past his shoulders and keeps it done up in twin braids. Any other time, it usually doesn't grow past his shoulders.

Complexion and skin tone: Warm coloured skintone, oftentimes described as something akin to a ‘golden-tan’. Heavily covered in freckles.

Scent: The best explanation for back in the Order is ‘clean’, and perhaps the lingering smell of what he uses to polish his armour. Post-defection he tends to smell a bit earthy... like sunlight, if that makes any sense. Often times the scent of something he’s made recently to feed people may cling to him, or there’s a sort of wooden scent-- usually after he’s spent some time carving.

Voice: Hard to explain if you’ve never listened to the Phasma novel-- the narrator gives him an accent that has heavily stuck with me and will forever be associated to him (if I don’t hear the accent when writing, I know I’m not going to be satisficed)-- but I have sort of mashed it into Kalani’s voice. I also have a strong idea of his Jakku accent, but can’t find anything to point to for that... which drives me nuts. Bonus; Archex pronounces words differently than everyone else in the book, despite it being the same narrator! It’s a fun little tidbit and it’s not exactly something that can be conveyed through writing.

Health: Aside from the factor he’d suffered greatly back on Jakku, and then just before he was dragged from the Order he sustained two major injuries that have permanently damaged him, Archex is rather healthy. The First Order goes out of it’s way to make sure those in it’s ‘care’ are always at their absolute best, even going so far as to ensure everyone’s getting vitamins they may well have missed out on for one reason or another. Between that, Archex’s stubborn desire to continue working out to stay in the shape he’d managed to reach, and the factor that Archex will be careful about things like eating healthy and staying hydrated... he’s healthy!

[ Intellectual | Mental | Personality Attributes and Attitudes ]

Native language: Not Basic, but I’ve yet to decide just what yet :) but he learns Basic properly once the Remnants of the Empire scoops him up. He understood a chunk of it due to his time on Jakku, but couldn’t form proper sentences.

Do they know any other languages: Plenty! Between being on Jakku, which housed enough different languages for a small handful of different phrases needing to be learned and the factor that it was important for him to learn them for his jobs in the First Order (comforting a kid who didn’t speak Basic yet, for example--)... that’s to be expected.

How smart are they: Smarter than he thinks he is, honestly. Due to the heavy programing and such thinking too much does tend to give him a massive migraine-- may also be a result from the drugs the FO put in their water, who’s to tell. Either way, there’s a roadblock to thinking too hard, so it takes awhile after his defection to break free of that. It’s of note he’s capable of figuring out how to help just about any kid with learning things, no matter their strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes that is not an easy feat.

What is their strengths: Kindness, stubbornness, a strong tenacity-- great with children and figuring out ways to survive despite all odds. Usually he’s one person who is sure to persevere.

Weaknesses: Kindness, stubbornness... his blind-loyalty. The touch of naïveté he actually has despite not realizing it-- he doesn’t quite understand the world he’s in like he thinks he does.

Short-term goals in life: Survive. End this war.

Long-term goals in life: Heal... help his children, however he can, to pay back for the role he’s played. Settle down, and provide a good home for any child in need of one.

[ How does your character feel... ]

... About love: He’s a romantic at heart, though there’s the probability he’d deny it if it were brought up. He’s not particularly looking for love, but if he were to settle down eventually he’d realize something is missing without a partner.

... About crime: Crime is... complicated. It’s not as black and white as he’d like it to be, and it makes it an ever shifting line in the sand. One that could be easy to pass over if you’re not careful.

... About Politics: ugh

... About People of a different sexuality: He’s pansexual... he’d date an alien. I don’t think he’d even bat an eye, honestly? I don’t think he’d even think to think it strange.

... About Different nationality/Species: Despite being raised in the presence of those who survived the fall of the Empire, he’s not even a little xenophobic.

How does your character show affection/love: Acts of service and touch. His biggest way to convey that he cares deeply for someone is to be sure they’re eating healthily and staying hydrated. Making sure they get rest, and comforting them when necessary. If he knows someone's going through a rough time, he’s very likely to find a way to bring them something he knows they like-- usually food or a drink over anything else.

How does your character handle grief: He tries to keep to himself with it. Bottle it up and show no signs... it’s thanks to the Order, but also because of the role he had played when there. He didn’t have the luxury to grieve much, and what time he had alone had to be used for sleeping as much as he could manage it. Hate to admit this, but when the asshole Brendol died he had definitely thrown himself more into his work and nearly ran himself ragged because overperforming was more acceptable than underperforming... and it was a distraction.

Leader or a follower: Not as much of a follower as everyone in the First Order wanted him to believe-- he’s a leader in his heart, it’s why he did so well as a Captain. He’s the kind of leader who will listen to those who follow and if they have valid concerns or a better idea, then so be it.

Are they 'big picture' or 'little details': Big picture... sometimes little details, but usually big picture.

What kind of energy level does your character typically display: Back in the Order he actually had... alot of energy. He trained alot of kids, it was kind of necessary. It was a more contained sort-- nothing chaotic, but you could practically feel it when in his presence. Now...? He’s tired. Depression and the such has worn him out. But when he finds a task and dives into it, forgets everything...? He’s back to that level of energy he once had.

Describe their sense of humor: Self-deprecating. Also, dad jokes but you don’t get those as frequently as you probably could-- again, FO shit. He also has a thing for irony, hah.

[ Hobbies ]

- carving: It’s something he had to do to survive back on Jakku, but has since turned it into a more proper hobby. Though he does usually sell the toys and such he carves, it’s not uncommon to see him gifting them to children who show extreme interest in them or to otherwise help distract / comfort them.

- cooking: Another thing he’d learned originally solely for survival, and something he’d been hesitant on exploring-- perhaps out of fear of messing up-- he actually picks it up rather quickly and loves to make food for others, especially those he cares about.

- does teaching count?: Especially with children, Archex has a love for teaching things. Even just something simple. It’s one thing the First Order never managed to take away from him.

tagged by @irrfahrer <3

#ooc — 🔪 menace #long post #??#yeah #about archex

12 notes · View notes

hteragram-x · 3 years

Text

Firefighter AU [again]

New story for the AU. This time about Virgil wondering who the hell is Logan. Also, apparently, Virgil’s main personality trait in this universe is thinking that Remus is very pretty and then being like: “hey! who said that?!”.

If it’s the first time you see this AU I think you can still understand what’s going on without reading older posts, but in case you’re interested: [HERE] is the introduction, [HERE] are some general HCs, over [THERE] you can find a story where Remus and Virgil met for the first time, and [HERE] is previous story :>

--- ----- --- ----- --- ----- --- ----- ---

Word count: 2240

Relationships: technically Dukexiety, but they’re not there yet; Creativitwins

TW: mentions of fire (what a surprise), small injury, mentions of blood, some animal bones, swearing (because I’m mentally 12 and think that swearwords are fucking hilarious)

--- ----- --- ----- --- ----- --- ----- ---

Because Logan Said So

Over the last four months Virgil has learnt a lot about his new co-workers. Not every information he managed to gather was particularly interesting or even worth remembering, but having that knowledge helped with making the new workplace more familiar. And familiarity brought comfort.

He learnt, for example, that their janitor – Jeremy – was the most grumpy and easily annoyed person in the entire firehouse despite being the youngest janitor Virgil has ever met. It was relatively easy to avoid him most of the time, but if he wanted everyone to know about his problems with something you would be informed that he’s unhappy regardless of your own involvement, or lack thereof, in the situation.

Virgil also learnt that Anna was pretty helpful when it came to failing equipment and technology. They weren’t employed to do the repairs, but it didn’t stop them from trying to fix everything anyway. The guy with very short hair, whose name Virgil could never remember, was leaving his helmet in unexpected places and had three kids that he talked about all the time. Alex was often late, but always stayed at work longer than anyone. And that one girl everyone called Apple for some unknown reason was currently building a house and you couldn’t escape hearing about it, no matter how much you didn’t want to at the moment.

Talking to Virgil about issues he wasn’t that interested in seemed to be the common thing among most of his co-workers.

Pretty standard stuff. Nothing out of the ordinary.

What was also not out of ordinary was the bird skull lying on his desk this Tuesday.

“Remus! Is this a gift or are you just leaving your stuff all over the office again!?”, he half-yelled knowing that the younger twin had to be somewhere in the building at this hour. Not that he memorized his schedule or something. He just knew…

Suddenly a head with a mass of unkempt hair and spider webs on top of it popped from under his desk. It was not the first time Remus was staying there, but Virgil still winced seeing the man crawling from the tiny space. It cannot be comfortable, he though for probably fifteenth time.

“There’s no way it’s comfortable in there,” he pointed out, also for fifteenth time.

“It isn’t”, Remus said, like he always did and smiled, stretching his long arms above his head. Even without his shoes – he always walked around the office in just his socks, because of course he did – he was still much taller than Virgil which somehow managed to fluster him more every time he noticed the difference.

Virgil decided to ignore the futile argument instead pointing at the skull and a couple of sticks he’s just noticed next to his computer.

“Can you keep your mess out of my desk?”

“You didn’t even say ‘hi’ to me today”, Remus pouted.

“I’ll say ‘hi’ when you take your stuff from my space,” he sighed.

Remus groaned, his arms hanging loosely at his sides in resignation.

“God… you sound like Logan.”

A-ha! There he is. This mysterious “Logan”, whoever he was.

Over the last four months Virgil has learnt a lot about his new co-workers. But no other person was as interesting and worth knowing as Remus himself. The number of weird quirks Virgil has memorized about the guy was unmatched by any other person working at the firehouse which was in no way a surprising score given the circumstances in which they’ve met.

He was weird in so many ways that it almost seemed normal again. And according to Roman he used to be even more chaotic and unpredictable when the twins were younger. At first Virgil was pretty nervous around the guy – with all of his jokes about violence or with his creepy staring – but now this… interesting behaviour became just a normal and entirely expected part of his days.

If Remus run into the room and didn’t stop until he hit the wall… fine. Virgil just checked if the guy was okay and went back to work. If he bit the bar of soap… also fine. You just had to make sure he didn’t swallow it all and forget about it for the rest of your day. When he left some of his most disturbing sketches on the fridge, you just commented on his skills as an artist or flipped them, so the picture was facing the door of the fringe, if the drawing was particularly disgusting.

A standard day with Remus.

Apparently talking about some “Logan” that no one ever met was also a standard part of his character. And Virgil was very annoyed at himself knowing how jealous he sometimes felt because of this mysterious guy. The jealousy, however, seemed to weaken a bit when he realized that Roman was also bringing the name up almost every day. It started to sound like an inside joke that Virgil was too nervous to ask about.

“Okay! Your desk’s just as clean as my legs yesterday when I jumped into the river to find a shiny stone, but it was a broken bottle, so I got glass stuck in my hand!” Remus smiled even wider, showing a little too many teeth and lifting his palm with three fingers covered in bandages.

Virgil pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Why do you have zero self-control?”, he asked, very much aware that the question was pointless.

No one knew. And if someone did know, it definitely wasn’t Remus.

“Sounds like a question Logan would ask”, said Roman who has just appeared out of nowhere behind Virgil. The shorter man shivered a little, not expecting anyone except for Alex who was finishing his shift to be in the room with them.

“It does!”, Remus agreed poking the bandages with a finger. Knowing him, Virgil assumed he wanted to check if it’ll make the wound open and colour the fabric with blood. “And like I said, I just cleaned up your desk.” The firefighter moved much closer to Virgil towering over him with some different kind of smile. He really was smiling a lot for a person, who wanted to appear at least a little scary most of the time. “Where’s my ‘hi’?”

The shorter man glanced up at him, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed with the whole situation and all of his conflicting feelings. It definitely wasn’t the first time he found himself in a position like that. He should have got used to Remus being annoying and invading his personal space long ago. Or maybe he did get used to that and he was just confused by the fact that he really… didn’t mind?

“Hi,” he said finally, the corners of his lips lifting slightly.

“Hello,” Remus answered with something twinkling in his green eyes.

There was a minute of silence. None of them seemed to want to move.

“You’re both gross,” said Roman decisively and ruined the moment by rolling his eyes and walking right between them to the adjacent kitchen.

Virgil felt blush creeping up his neck. He completely forgot about the second twin being in the room with them. Wouldn’t be the first time he got distracted like that.

And he couldn’t even get mad at Roman… that was a little bit gross. …In a good way.

“You can keep the bird skull if you want to. I planned to paint it and add to my new sculpture, but I have plenty more to use instead.”

Virgil was more than grateful for the change of the topic.

“No, thanks. But show me the sculpture once it’s done.”

That was apparently a right thing to say, because Remus looked very satisfied with himself which was always nice. Virgil really liked to see him so cheerful, even when it meant complimenting some naturalistic painting or listening to his unsettling ideas. He was even more handsome when he seemed genuinely happy… wait, what?

Virgil coughed nervously and quickly moved to the desk, putting his bag down and turning the computer on. When he was adjusting the headset and checking his microphone he looked back at Remus and gave him a little shy wave.

“Don’t set yourself on fire today,” he said using their usual equivalent of ‘good bye’.

“No promises!”, was a standard reply.

***

Roman grabbed a bag of gummy worms from Remus’ hand preventing him from showing them all into his mouth at once.

“Stop eating so much sweets. You’ll already too energetic today.”

Remus shrugged and took a long sip of some energy drink he’d been hiding behind his back.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“It cannot be healthy for you!” Roman tried to grab the can as well, but Remus was sitting on the kitchen counter, so he easily lifted it out of his brother’s reach.

“Why?!” he asked in a whiny tone.

“Because Logan said so!”

“No, he didn’t.”

“But he would if he was standing here right now.”

“…fine!”

Remus jumped off the counter sending his twin annoyed look, but he put the drink away, only now noticing his slightly shaky hands. He hasn’t said anything to not give Roman the satisfaction and moved to the changing room to dress for their upcoming training.

Virgil followed him with his eyes, not even trying to hide the confusion. Remus almost never did anything, because it was healthy or responsible. What was happening?

Who the hell is Logan?

---

“Roman! …Roman! ROMAN!!!”, Remus looked up seeing his brother sitting atop the fire engine with a book. It was his favourite place to escape the noise, people… and work. “Get down here, you lazy motherfucker! We’re moving the old hoses to the new room.”

“Have fun then!”

“They’re heavy! Come back here and help me!”

“I’m busy…” Roman looked at Remus from behind the book, hoping he’d just get bored and walk away. “And you can lift them yourself, come on.”

“No, I can’t! They’re packed in those bigger boxes. If I do this myself I’ll drop them on my feet or hurt my back and Logan said it’s dangerous!” Remus smirked, already knowing he won the argument. “And do you really want to leave me unsupervised?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll help… It’s not your fault you’re a weak baby!”

The rest of the conversation was too quiet for Virgil to hear through the open window from the garages below. The twins probably moved to the other room to finish the task. And Roman, who truly didn’t like this kind of repetitive labour, helped without much complaining… Strange.

Who the fuck was Logan?

---

“Roman, you forgot the scarf. It’s freezing. Logan said you’ll catch a cold!”

“Logan would already give you a lecture for sleeping on a chair like that… At least move to the floor… I’ll bring you some blankets… Yes, I know it’s 4am. You think I’m happy about it?”

“If Logan saw the mess you’ve made he be so disappointed with you…”

“Okay, stop staring at cute boys and get back to work! Just imagine if Logan saw you right now. It’s pathetic. Oh… is my little brother blushing?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? Just stay safe. Because Logan said so!”

“Because Logan said so!”

***

“Okay… who the hell is Logan?”

Remus looked at Virgil from the axe he’s been sharpening on the office floor. He was clearly confused, not expecting anyone to talk to him after Roman left the room a few seconds ago.

“What?”

Virgil gripped the fabric of his trousers nervously.

“I’ve asked who’s Logan.” There was a moment of silence. “You… you two keep bringing him up and I… I know that no one with that name works here and no one else is ever talking about this guy. If it’s a guy.” He stopped himself before he started rambling. “So… Who is Logan?”

Remus was looking at him with a very weird set of emotions in his eyes. It was impossible to decipher what he was thinking or feeling at the moment which was pretty unusual for a person who was normally so open with what he thought or felt.

Finally he went back to cleaning the axe lying on his knees.

“Wouldn’t you like to know operator boy…” he said with a smirk.

Virgil blinked, even more perplexed.

“Y-yes! That’s why… Of course I want to know! That’s why I asked in the first place!”

This time Remus openly laughed as if Virgil just told him a joke. It was one of his loudest and wildest laughs that most people learnt to ignore after working with Remus for a while, but it was still pretty creepy for anyone unfamiliar with the firefighter’s personality. Virgil would find it pretty pleasant to listen to if it wasn’t meant to mock him at the moment.

“I don’t know what’s so funny…” he said defensively. He already regretted ever asking the question. Maybe it was a wrong moment? Maybe he should have asked Roman instead?

“Of course you don’t! Oh, the irony…”

He was very close to asking “what’s the irony”, but decided against it. Apparently he wasn’t getting any actual answers right now. Okay. He could wait and be patient when he wanted to. He’s already been waiting for months before the curiosity finally pushed him to say anything. There were other ways to get that information. It might be a difficult task, but he’ll learn the truth… eventually.

--- ----- --- ----- --- ----- --- ----- ---

General writing taglist: @imma-potatoo

Taglist for this AU: @isabelle-stars @wintersandsunshine

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist or removed from it :>

20 notes · View notes

tosikoarts · 4 years

Text

SFW Alphabet | Kikuta

Ogata is next. You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Kikuta is so serious that it comes off extremely funny. He hasn’t been in a stable relationship for quite a while so getting back in the game gives him headache and upset stomach. For a person that pompous, with a damn jacket made of collected guns, he acts awkwardly sweet and romantic, and he is also a little afraid that it will push his potential partner away. In short, Kikuta is a mess.

Opposite to his own state, Kikuta wants to bring peace to his loved one’s life. He tries to pull off image of ideal man, one that will take off his jacket and cover a puddle with it just for his partner to stay clean. Seeing encouragement makes him more confident, less nervous, and therefore more refined. You’ll be drowning in attention, gifts, praise. Later, Kikuta gets comfortable with his own clumsiness and awkwardness and just laughs it away.

Relaxing together is a must. Impromptu rest in hot springs, not in those controlled by establishments, but in wild ones, is a great example. Reading aloud? Yep. Chilling under the blankets? Yep. Massages and back rubs? Yep. Kikuta manages to make everything wholesome. Thankfully, war couldn’t kill his kindliness.

He voluntarily takes on the role of a guardian angel to protect his loved one from world’s harshness. Kikuta wouldn’t want them to see what he has seen - pain, cruelty, disease - so he made it his goal to improve himself and the world around.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

The highest possibility of becoming Kikuta’s friend is either being soldier of 7th division or being nurse that patched him up few times. He is rarely seen out of his missions so chances to get acquainted with him randomly on a street are low.

Kikuta is the friend that bails you out of problems, no matter how serious they are. In a street fight, he will kick any thug’s ass and make them beg for mercy. If you lose the bid while gambling, he will offer his own money and give you a chance to win some back. Overall, you can always rely on him.

Get ready for philosophical conversations over the glass of whiskey. He likes to talk on a variety of topics, especially abstract ones, like life and death, moment and eternity, love and hate. Most of the reasoning comes down to Kikuta’s military experience but can you blame him for it? Many allegories with weapons: “time flies like a bullet”, “life is just being at gunpoint without realizing it”, etc.

Most likely, he will be looking for a person whom he can serve as a father figure. Kikuta needs someone to look after thou he will rather die than admit it.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Kikuta has to be in specific mood to initiate cuddles and receive them. If he is busy, he will give his partner a faint smile and ask them to wait a little. Surprise, he doesn’t like spooning since it deprives him of the possibility of seeing their adorable face. Half-spoon sounds good and gives more opportunities like kissing his loved one in the top of their head or ruffling their hair. Honeymoon hug is the all time favorite that he likes to initiate right before falling asleep.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Mediocre in both cooking and cleaning, but, boy, does he want this domestic life? Absolutely. Kikuta dreams about getting away from military, finding a new, maybe, not that exciting, stable job, and settle down with his favorite person and few pups. Hardly anyone knows about it, but thought about a small yard where one can sit and watch the slowly falling leaves in autumn or play in a first snow with his own child in winter makes him so soft. Waking up in the comfort of own bedroom, cooking dinner for the whole family, wandering around his own house… Kikuta can’t wait for it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Comprehensive information about the break-up will be presented at its best in oral or written form. Kikuta addresses everything they are interested in, from reason to the wish to stay friends since his care for their feelings is infinite and he wouldn’t want to leave them without proper closure. After parting ways, Kikuta gives them space to recollect themself, let off the steam, and recover but he plans to come back in their life as a good friend (if they are okay with that, of course).

Kikuta is one of the people that got your back even after bad break-up. You could throw a tantrum, tell how much you hate his guts, and still he will check up on you, protect your name behind the back, and treat you with the same respect as always.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Typical traditional looks on marriage, would want to get married after 1-2 years of relationship. After the appearance of attachment, Kikuta can’t imagine himself with anyone else even if there is a more suitable partner right under his nose. His trust in them is immeasurable: their worst flaws do not don't bother him that much, and when they do, Kikuta tries to gently persuade his loved one into more appropriate behavior. Their past doesn’t matter either unless it is associated with straight-out high treason. Like he doesn’t justify anything but doesn’t seem to emphasize attention on the past wrongs. He is one of the most committed man around, really.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

You have to have Kikuta’s heart set on you for him to show the gentle side. He is polite, it's true, he knows how to court person, but he must force himself to put tenderness in action. Good news: it works like a physical exercise. The more often you do this, the easier it gets. Over time, Kikuta feels comfortable enough to call them pet names like angel or dearest, even in public, without worrying to appear vulnerable.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Not the biggest fan of the hugs, but likes to put one arm around loved one’s shoulder. There is no particular reason, Kikuta is just too awkward when someone hugs him. Only his fingertips land on their back or waist, never the whole palm, and he tries to keep some space between them too. The exception to the rule is first meeting after long time apart when Kikuta wants to press them into himself, hold them as close as possible, and live this moment to the fullest.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Hard to say. If Kikuta sees frivolous attitude on their part, if he feels that he is just another pit stop on the road of their love victories, he will keep confession for someone else. Also, Kikuta either chooses the best romantic moment to confess or does it in the most awkward inappropriate time possible, no in between. After this, he is still hesitant to throw sweet words to the left and to the right but he eventually thaws and turns in the softest man, muttering sweet nonsense in his loved one’s ear.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Kikuta can be characterized as selectively jealous with a high threshold of tolerance. He has few people he wouldn’t want see his loved one around and he doesn’t care about everyone else, seeing them as unworthy opponents. One of the chosen people is Usami. Despite belonging to the same division, Kikuta doesn't trust him one iota. Superior private irradiates chaotic energy and aggression that easily can transform into harassment just to annoy Kikuta and bug him. Another one would be Tsurumi, known for the persistent love conquest and violent ways of achieving his goals. The last one would be Tsukishima, simply because he looks like a competitive man in his silent seriousness and devotion.

Poorly tolerates his loved one acting flirtatious, especially with three people listed above. His main coping mechanism is distancing which allows Kikuta to think about the situation and make sure he isn’t overreacting. After that, he decides to discuss the problem since he does want to make this relationship work.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Sensual kisser. He starts out as a man who knows what he is doing, skillfully and gently, and grows pretty demanding over the time. Kikuta likes to kiss in a secluded environment where there is no need to worry about anything other than the person in front of him, completely surrendering to growing passion. Yep, lip biting, tongue sucking, everything at the right time and in the right place. Lip kisses are his favorite because Kikuta knows nobody does it better, okay, but he is down for anything else too. He likes to kiss his loved one on the neck as well as plant kisses on both of their hands. And where he likes to be kissed? Lips and, who would expect, clavicles, and chest.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Seeing little kid automatically makes Kikuta nervous since, despite the efforts made, he has difficulties in communicating with them. The only fear Kikuta has is not death, nor prison, it’s crying baby that won’t fall silent after few coos and short cuddle. After several unsuccessful interactions with kids, he wondered if he could become a good father in the future and self-given answer was depressing. If his loved one wants to have children with him in the future, they have to rake the mountain of his doubts.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Chances are you won’t catch Kikuta in the morning because of important business he has to run through the work week. Maybe, you will hear the sound of a slamming door or receding footsteps but nothing more. On the weekends, this man always wakes up earlier than his partner, and almost immediately gets out of bed. Half of the times there will be an easy breakfast waiting for you on the table, and the other half you’ll find Kikuta industriously doing varied housework Cuddles (or something more intimate) are rare, but Kikuta is more than willing to make up for it during the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Balances time at home and nights out well. Small dinner parties play great role in Kikuta’s life, he loves to invite guests to come over for a cup of tea and small talk or for whole evening of playing hanafuda. Kikuta isn’t the best host but with the help of supportive partner he will be more confident and better one. Spending time alone with the loved one, he likes to talk about the future and about anything at all, play games, or simply cuddle. If we speak about nights put, Kikuta is a big fan of Japanese theater, especially Western-derived shingeki that gained popularity in 1900s, and he insists going there at least once a month.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

First, he needs to get accustomed to the person, to observe their actions towards others so he can build an approximate image of them in the head. After the probationary period, Kikuta begins to gradually open up: his personality is revealed in short conversations over a cup of tea, in talk by the flickering fire, in single phrases like greetings or goodbyes. He often brings up old memories but needs a slight push to go deeper than nostalgic sighs. Never ever has word outburst so you’ll never hear information not meant for your ears.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Scarily cold-blooded when angry, but you have to push to piss Kikuta off, put some effort into it. He is used to deal with all kinds of people. Therefore, there’s already dozen of prepared lines of conduct that can be put to work when somebody is deliberately trying to mess with him. When angered, Kikuta’s first reaction is to shut the person up with one sentence if not a single word. Usually, it works. Sucks that it doesn’t when it comes to broken plate or spilled hellishly hot tea.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Here is the deal: good memorization doesn’t guarantee correct interpretation. Just like the case about the relationship between Ogata and Yuusaku, Kikuta may confuse something and come to the wrong conclusions, so often he chooses too subtly ask a leading question about thing that interests him. He is quite attentive and catches slightest changes in their behavior, listens carefully to the words they speak, but Kikuta can make a fool of himself once in a while. Like he forgot that they have a peach allergy (and he bought like 2 kilos) or they are scarred of big dogs (and he thought they would want to pet that sharp-toothed Kai Ken).

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment would be either proposal or moving in together. Both events mark a new stage in the relationship and keep him on the tiptoes. The day before Kikuta loses his composure: everything falls out of his hands, he cannot eat, cannot drink, cannot sleep because electrifying thoughts don't let him concentrate at all. The limbs seem foreign to him and Kikuta reaches new peak of awkwardness, tripping over his own legs. When the time comes, he is calm again. With the last bit of strength, he puts on a confident face and does his thing. The selected ring fits finger just right as well as his lips land exactly on theirs. After all Kikuta is absolutely sure of his choice and would not want to spend life with someone other than his chosen loved one.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

The closer the person gets, the more worried Kikuta becomes. You never know who is friend and who is enemy in the ongoing treasure hunt, who can stab you in the back because of newly devised action plan. To calm the soul, Kikuta may teach them self-defense both barehanded and with the use of firearms. Also, he is always straightforward about people to be careful with and people who can be trusted. For example, he will do his best to hide his loved one’s existence from 1st Lieutenant Tsurumi even if it means Kikuta has to stage their death.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Kikuta is your dream man when it comes to dates, he keeps things classy in the best sense of this word. Outside the military profession, Kikuta has the ability to appeal to the more refined side of himself and share his views with other. He is the one to take his loved one to historical museum or secluded beach at sunset, the one to look for a restaurant that follows Japanese cooking traditions that have been passed down from generation to generation. The only thing that can make him late is the doubts while choosing the best bouquet. On the anniversaries, there’s no tangible difference since he is used to spoil them with attention pretty much every day. Performs home tasks diligently as well.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Kikuta can be stubborn as donkey, godlessly, unapologetically stubborn. On some occasions he agrees with what another person is saying but still does it his own way, without any explanation, just because he thinks his option is better. It is more common in in the professional field but may pop up in domesticity too.

Speaking of work, Kikuta tends to over-work himself when case includes the thing that really interests him. Digging in paperwork brings him a feel of being needed and sense of stability, both of which are not always present in relationships with people. A person can drastically change his mind and words, stab you in the back, leave… but work? Work could never.

Kikuta can be a bore that wants to stay in one place, talk with the same people, speak out the same ideas. Such company will seem dull to over-active, expressive, and extraverted people.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Oooh, you can’t tell it from his face, but Kikuta takes good care of himself. Not a metrosexual, but a type that wants to be presentable at any time. His style is consists of neutral dark colors, smooth lines, as the opposite of his sharp facial features, and even his casual stubble is thought-out accessory. Probably carries his favorite comb in inner pocket to keep his hair smooth.

He has a collection of neckties for all occasions as well as he knows how to tie them in different, often whimsical ways. Kikuta would really like to pass on his knowledge to the son since in his imagination this is excellent example of cool father-son interaction.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Impeccable self-control helps to get though the loss partially. Right after the break Kikuta excuses himself and leaves. He needs fresh air and, maybe, cigarette. Or a drink. Or start his evening routine hours earlier than usual. Crushing awareness comes day later, when he cannot habitually hug his loved one or get an unexpected kiss on a cheek. Heartsore grows harder and goes away for weeks before Kikuta gathers strength to let them go. Restrains himself from relationship for year or two and secretly hopes they will come back.

If they were killed, Kikuta does not pursue the idea of revenge at any cost. He bears the loss steadfastly, self-reflects through long conversations with Ariko, and plunges in overtime work. If Kikuta gets a chance to cross roads with a killer, he will strangle him with them with bare hands, looking straight into the eyes, and watching their life slips away.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Kikuta is a dog person that has never in his life owned a dog. When a stray dog runs up to him on the street, Kikuta always scratches it behind the ear, and asks “who is the best boy”. While in army, he took care of fluffy mongrel that was sneaking around the military base until First Lieutenant Tsurumi ordered to get rid of it. Kikuta still has a dream to adopt few dogs with his loved one so they both can take care of them (and the puppies).

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Eccentric personas. The man is already working with Usami, he is already under tremendous pressure, okay? His psyche can tolerate one freak but no more. Eccentric persona does not mean a common person who has one or a couple of distinctive features. We all have specific oddities. No, we are talking about a walking circus, loud, bright, and defiant. Kikuta tries to avoid this type of people at all cost.

Outrageous rudeness makes him tic too. Ill-timed swearing, terrible table manners, inability to behave in society. Small annoying details add up to one big picture that Kikuta physically cannot ignore. He'll definitely try to change that in person.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Kikuta has an evening ritual he performs every day before going to bed. It starts with attentively checking if all the doors are closed, then he puts out the lights everywhere except bedroom and bathroom. While washing his face Kikuta makes plans for tomorrow. He revises them while choosing clean outfit for the next day and putting them next to his bed so in the morning he could instantly jump into his shoes, pull on pants, shirt, and run on important government affairs. Kikuta is mysteriously silent whole time. Attempts to break the silence with small talk result in short dry answers. This routine never changes, even if someone requires an urgent meeting, since repeated actions bring at least some stability to his life.

Calm sleeper until he has to share a bed with another person. Kikuta’s peaceful sleep turns into terrible insomnia, bags under his eyes start to resemble Tsukishima’s, and he feels just awful trying to explain another person that it is not their fault at all. Intensive training, special meditation, counting sheep do not work so he quietly lies on the back and listen’s to another person’s breath.

#golden kamuy #kikuta #golden kamuy headcanon #golden kamuy imagine #tosikowrites

64 notes · View notes

embracethecringeside · 4 years

Note

OK, here's one: do you think that there's any genuine good in Rick? I can't make up my mind about that one. I don't think he's evil or a sociopath (a lot of fans called him that in the early days, that term is so misused), but his intense self-hatred seems to be the only redeeming thing about him. He must have some sense of morality because he knows he's done horrible things, but he makes zero effort to stop doing horrible things unless it benefits him somehow.

My short answer is yes, Rick has genuine good wrapped up in there but my full answer is a bunch of examples from the show that I would like to call Soft Sanchez moments, where Rick either does something good/says something real and genuine/or his goodness is talked about in some fashion.

Meeseeks and Destroy

Morty: Look, I want to leave now. You win the bet, okay? (Searches Rick's lab coat for the portal gun) Just give me the portal gun and let's go, please!

(Rick sees the badly beaten Mr. Jelly Bean walk out of the bathroom and pieces together what happened)

Morty: Please, I just want to... go h-home. (Tears up and holds onto Rick)

Rick: Okay. Listen, Morty. I just won a bunch of shmeckels. Why don't we use 25 of them to pay slippery stair here for a ride back to the village, and then we'll give the rest of the shmeckels to the villagers, huh?

Morty: Really?

Rick: Sure, Morty. Yeah. You know, a good adventure needs a good ending.

Rick: Good job, Morty. Looks like you won the bet.

Morty: Thanks, Rick, but I don't know if I should. You know, you were right about the universe. It's a crazy and chaotic place.

Rick: Well, you know, maybe that's why it could use a little cleaning up every now and then, you know. This one's wrapped up neat and clean because we did it Morty style.

(They portal away, but Rick makes another portal back and sticks an energy pistol through it and shoots Mr. Jelly Bean, splattering him all over the screaming villagers)

A Rickle In Time

(Puts his own collar on Morty, who disappears)

Rick: I'm okay with this. Be good Morty. Be better than me. Holy shit, the other collar! I'm not okay with this! I am not okay with this! Oh, sweet Jesus please let me live. Oh, my God I—I've gotta fix this thing, please God in Heaven, please, God, oh Lord, hear my prayers. Yes! Fuck you God! Not today, bitch.

Mortynight Run

Rick: Screw this. I’m out.

(Rick forms a portal and leaves through it. Morty tries to start the car as a Gromflomite approaches, but it stalls.)

Morty: Oooh…! Come on, come on!

Gromflomite: Get out of the vehicle made of garbage or we will open fire!

Morty: *still trying to start the car* Oh no no no!

Gromflomite: Open fire!

(A portal appears directly above the guards and water pours out of it, flooding the room. Another portal appears on the floor, and the water and Gromflomites are sucked into it. A third portal then appears and Rick emerges through it, walking up to the car.)

Rick: Stupid-ass fart-saving carpet-store motherfucker! *shoves Morty out of the driver’s seat and takes the wheel* Move!

Auto Erotic Assimilation

Rick: You got that right. But... baby, listen. Y-you're talking about taking over planets and galaxies, you gotta... you gotta just... remember to let go sometimes, you know.

Unity (Administrator): I can let go! Hey, look! You see that town across the river? Watch this.

(Planes fly past and bomb the town, blowing it all up)

Rick: Whoa!

Unity (Administrator): Ha ha! Woot!

Rick: Whoa! That's not what I meant!

Unity (Administrator): [laughing] It's okay! It's okay, I evacuated! I evacuated the town, look!

Unity (Townspeople): Hey! Right here! We’re fine!

Rick: (laughing) Oh, that was awesome! My grandkids weren't in that town, right? A-are my grandkids alive? ... H-hey, my drink is empty

Get Swifty

Rick: Take it from me, Ice. *burp* You can’t just *burp* float around space not caring about stuff forever.

Morty: Tammy… gross. Birdperson, you always stick up for Rick, but he doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He doesn’t think about the consequences of anything he does.

Birdperson: And as a result, he has the power to save or destroy entire worlds. And he is the reason you and I know each other. And the reason I’m alive at all.

Look Who’s Purging Now

Arthrisha: Wait, stop! Please, don't kill me! I-I never intended to harm you, I swear. I am trying to end the festival. W-w-what do you mean? I was going to use your ship to destroy the rich assholes that run our society and save my people from the horrors of this yearly festival.

Rick: I'm not here to judge. I'm just a guy from another planet. But this girl is one of your poor people, and I guess you guys felt like it was okay to subject her to inhuman conditions because there was no chance of it ever hurting you. It's sort of the socio-political equivalent of, say, a suit of power armor around you. But now things are evened out, so, Arthrisha?

Morty: I can't help but feel ashamed about what I did back there, Rick. I guess you were right. I've got a lot of repressed stuff. I need to deal with.

Rick: Don't worry about it, Morty.Remember those candy bars earlier that we got in the first act?

Morty: Yeah, what about them?

Rick: Turns out they have a chemical in them called purgenol that amplifies all your violent tendencies.

Morty: Oh, boy. Whew! Thank goodness for that, huh? That's a relief.

Rick: Yep. Don't even sweat. You're still the same old Morty. Your character's totally protected. (camera pans out to reveal the label on the chocolate bars reads “now purgenol-free”)

The Wedding Squanchers

BirdPerson: The guest list at this wedding includes 17 of the federation's most wanted. We have committed numerous atrocities in the name of freedom.

Rick: But... but... Here's the thing. Birdperson is my best friend, and if he loves Tammy, well, then I love Tammy, too. (Cheers and applause) To friendship, to love, and to my greatest adventure yet... opening myself up to others.

The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy

Rick: And you know what? I’ll cop to it. I put a lot of strain on your marriage. It wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.

Jerry: What?!

Rick: I didn’t respect your marriage. I certainly didn’t do it any favors. And for what it’s worth, I’ll apologize to Beth for it when we get home. Whoo! Whirly Dirly! Yeah!

Pickle Rick

I’m trying to let the scripts show all the ways Rick is good before I jumped in but since this is really weird without just watching the episode I’ll just explain that Rick doesn’t kill Jaguar after he finds out he has a daughter and then they work together to escape.

The Old Man and The Seat

Tony: Can I look at a photo of my wife while you kill me?

Rick: Sure, but I'm doing her a favor. She either has terrible taste, or she's trapped in a marriage to a toilet thief.

Tony: She's dead. And I don't mind joining her. Life has been hollow since I lost her. Using your toilet was nice, though. I'm a bit of a shy pooper. I'm ready when you are.

Rick: Stay there. (goes through a portal, comes back with another Tony) Tell him what you told me.

Other Tony: What is this? What's happening?

Rick: Tell him what you told me.

Other Tony: My wife's still alive. Sh... sh... she went into remission 10 years ago.

Rick: And what did you do today?

Other Tony: Oh, I, uh, pooped on a really awesome toilet I found... Oh, ow, ow, ow, ow, oh! (Rick shoves him back through the portal)

Rick”: Don't use your dead wife as an excuse. You ( Bleep ) on my toilet because you don't know your place, and your place is nothing. So next time you stumble onto a toilet that feels too good for your ass, trust me, it is.

Tony: You're not gonna kill me?

Rick: Don’t tell me what to do!

Tony: You can make a perfectly-realized, toilet-filled simulation of heaven, but you can't share a toilet?

Rick: Don't insult my craft. The chemical is Globaflyn. It connects the whatever-you-want section of your brain to the whatever-you-have section. If your heaven is toilets, that's on you.

Tony: All of these people...

Rick: Are living their wildest, meaningless dreams and leaving me out of them.

Tony: People you refuse to kill and refuse to let into your life.

Star Mort Rickturn of the Jerry

(Rick reveals he has saved what he could of PhoenixPerson)

Okay and on to the big one where I am actually going to talk instead of just letting the script go off Rest and Ricklaxation. We see two sides of Rick, Healthy Rick and Toxic Rick. After Healthy Morty slaps Healthy Rick, and he slaps him back, he discovers the machine doesn’t actually know the difference between what is truly healthy and whats actually toxic, it goes by each person’s individual definition. Shortly after we as the audience learn that Healthy Rick? Is actually apathetic. He doesn’t care about others. All the caring and emotions are wrapped up in Toxic Rick. Everything Healthy Rick did and said is all stuff he believes are good, he apologies, he takes responsibility for his actions, he’s polite, he’s trusting, and he doesn’t try to control others, but he is doing all of this simply because he thinks he should. So it is completely selfless when he makes the bargain so Toxic Rick will merge with him, because, and he even says it, he hates having what he considers his toxins inside of him, but it’s the right thing to do.

Then of course Healthy Rick calls Toxic Rick out, knowing that he is the one with all his, “irrational attachments” as he puts it, and as much as Toxic Rick no longer wishes to be a part of Healthy Rick, he merges with him under the pretence that he will then be able to save Toxic Morty. Both act selflessly for different reasons, Healthy Rick believing it is the right thing to do, while Toxic Rick does it for Morty.

So do I believe that there is good in Rick?? Heck yes!! Good is stored in the garbage grandpa!

#rick sanchez #rick and morty #this took forever im sorry #ellie answers #long post #rnm #ram #rick sanchez has morals and a heart y'all #ellie's answers #love my awful grandpa

105 notes · View notes

bisluthq · 3 years

Note

Hello! So, I am a two muse theory doubter (yes read realistic Kay too a couple of times). Like, I want to believe. I have even tried to force it in my mind but it doesn’t take. The reason is - TMT fails to consider the fluctuations of emotional highs, lows, love and lust over the initial 2 year period of a relationship. Like, I am a semi profesh song writer with a muse. The variety of POV I write from are extensive. Life is an emotional pendulum and our experiences make it swing. On any given day, our perspectives and emotions can complete change for a given moment towards a muse. I can love my muse for the rest of my life but hate them with the same passion on any given day, go to my piano and write it into a song and feel indifferent to it later (the good and bad end up in songs). When I listen to Rep, it’s range of intensities I easily apply to my one muse. Taylor herself saying Dress, Delicate, CIWYW & NYD her true story on the album reads like she is just pointing to her average daily experiences with 1 muse. If Delicate is Joe & Dress is Karlie - Taylor separated her finding “love amongst the chaos” into loving two people in her true story. If you actually timeline those particular songs it’s Dress (a lustful hook up), to Delicate (wanting to make it official), CIWYW (the pressure of making it official) and NYD (the challenge of commitment). Unless “Dress” leads her to “Delicate”, why include it at all in her true love story line up? Like, was it a last minute attempt to hetsplain that song years after it came out?🤷‍♀️ by her including NYD in her true love story of Rep, it ties via the ‘squeeze my hand three times in taxi’ lines to cruel summers crying in the backseat lines (which is also the circumstantial vibe of CIWYW). The backseat crying lines of Cruel Summer ties to the Cornelia Street vibe (which Taylor writes later as a reflection of the whatever happened after the Delicate moment) which ties back to Delicate via the bar lines and forward later in time to Gold Rush via the creaks / wooden in the floor lines. I mean, all this says to me there is 1 muse of her true story - which could be Joe (but that cancels out the sapphic nature of dress) or Karlie (which means this illicit affair on joshy-boy really did happen somewhere between 100 and a million times). Tbh, I tend to believe the later. So you’ll be like okay what about LSS, Invisable String then fruitcake? (Fair call future sleuth haha). Or what about babygate and joshlie marriage?! Like, wbk that affair was at least long and messy AF. Folklore and Evermore were written last year and Lover period was fairly chaotic and clunky at best (presumably because of masters heist). Like, they MUST have broken up (FG, DBATC, Daylight, The 1, Cardigan saga, TIMT, Hoax, Peace, Exile, Coney Is, Evermore, RWYLM, CP, Happiness, TTDS). Like, they all have 1 muse energy of losing someone you love through messiness (could be joe🤷‍♀️ we’ll never know for sure). But many of these songs refer to a third person being involved which screams Joshlie to me because of ivy, illicit affair, the bitterness of “The Man”. Baby, you say? Like it’s pretty simple - Karlie went back to Josh, married him and had a baby and Taylor’s like “uhh, what a fucking joke” and processed it last year through writing two albums about it all. Invisable string, LSS - like these are both songs which come from a POV of self-reflection after hope is lost. Maybe reunited after preggo-gate? Maybe consolidated love after break up into friendship aka Dorothea? WB - quite simply - WB is the model to which Taylor writes about whatever she wants to (triangulation of desire). Good for her, great writing strategy. Is it a strategy needed? Well ya, but only if it’s born of having 1 muse and a very obvious story Taylor is trying to obscure. Like, come at me sleuth cuz I reallllly want to believe in two muse story. I wouldn’t even had bothered writing this if I didn’t. What am I missing?

Hey Sim here. So Nat broke protocol and sent me this one to answer because I too am a writer and I too at one point reached that point in the lyric analysis where I literally could not fathom any timeline I was hearing that made sense due to the connections in the lyrics between Reputation and Lover. I have a whole spreadsheet called “Car Bar Roof” where I’m just trying to make sense of a series of events through lyrics alone and I nearly drove myself crazy doing it.

With that being said, I want to give a disclaimer: Nothing wrong with you interpreting things your own way! I know Nat can come off kind of brash sometimes, but both of us are always hyper-aware that we are discussing what essentially amounts to a “Taylor Swift Is Gay” conspiracy theory and because it’s a conspiracy theory and we don’t know these people, no analysis is ever going to be 100% correct. If you don’t hear two muses on Rep, that’s totally fine! I’m sure we have some Toe/Swiftwyn readers who would agree with you there!

I do want to caution against relying entirely on lyric parallels to create a timeline, however. You’re going to dig yourself into a rabbithole that’s very hard to get out of. I think a lot of people don’t realize that Taylor has been using a lot of metaphors (especially the car and the bar) her entire career. It ends up being a big stretch to assume that just because two events in two different songs both take place in a car or a bar, Taylor is talking about the exact same moments. Like, let’s be real, how many times have any of us ever been in a car? Wouldn’t it be kind of ridiculous for a critic of our work to assume everything we write involving a car is about the same specific time we were in a car?

It is also incredibly easy to construct false narratives when you rely only on song analysis. I’ll give you an example using Taylor’s first high school boyfriend, Drew. Whether you believe it or not, he’s often cited as the inspiration for Tim McGraw. The song Tim McGraw has a variety of common themes with Taylor’s other work, the main ones being summer, dancing, the moon, a little black dress, a truck, a creek/river, and going back to school. If we follow song parallel logic, I could connect Tim McGraw to folkmore songs and, because of this, could say Taylor is still dating/writing about Drew from high school.

The little black dress in Tim McGraw is also mentioned in unreleased Live for the Little Things and The Other Side of the Door. In both Tim McGraw and Live for the Little Things, Taylor mentions a black dress and dances with her lover under the moon. A summer love that ends with going back to school can also be found in August, and Cruel Summer and August are very similar songs, in that both are about a summer love that can’t last and isn’t being taken as seriously by one person as another. The Other Side of the Door is almost the exact same premise of an ex at your doorway as I Almost Do, Dark Blue Tennessee, All You Had to Do Was Stay, and exile, meaning all those songs must be connected as well. Dancing with someone in the middle of the night can also be found in Everything Has Changed, 22, and Dancing With Our Hands Tied. As a bonus, trucks and dancing are also mentioned in Champagne Problems, which connects to Gold Rush, So It Goes, and Dancing With Our Hands tied through the use of the color Gold. So It Goes also mentions wearing black and meeting someone in the middle of the night. So all those songs have to be about Drew as well.

So here’s the narrative that makes: Taylor and Drew dated over a summer then broke up when he went back to school but at some point he came back to her door and they got back together. They mostly hung out in the middle of the night, driving around and dancing. Unfortunately, when he proposed, Taylor couldn’t say yes, and literally left him stranded on the dance floor and is now #foreveralone and writing folkmore to process these events.

To be clear, I don’t actually believe any of this. I don’t think anyone else does either, but since neither Taylor nor Drew have publicly interacted in over a decade, this can be easily disproved, despite the “obvious” way the songs connect. Taylor just likes certain themes. Cars and bars. Nature. The contrast of light and dark. Sparks and fire. I guarantee if you go over her unreleased songs and first two albums with the same fine tooth comb you’ve gone over Folkmore/Lover/Reputation/1989 with, you’ll find just as many lyric parallels, and it’s not because she’s only writing about one person.

Occams Razor tells me Kaylor’s not on good terms anymore. It also tells me Karlie and Josh are actually having a child together. From the outside, it looks like things have been bad since at least the Masters Heist, if not before, and the more digging we’ve done, the more evidence we find of that. Now, you don’t have to believe that if you don’t want to! As long as you don’t go around harassing people we’ve got no beef with you. Just know you’re always going to find song parallels to back up whatever you want because Taylor’s such a prolific songwriter who loves to use the same themes again and again. That’s just deductive reasoning, baby. Thanks for the discourse though! LMK if you wanna chat song analysis sometime!

#nat talks two muse theory #sim answers anons #nat talks lyrical interpretation

8 notes · View notes