#not to mention help wanted's.. uh... Decision that there are fucking GAMES in universe to dispel the rumors 😭😭

[bravevolunteer]

it constantly haunts me that there is NO way there aren't in universe true crime people who talk about fazbear history . like there's gotta be threads on reddit talking about the missing children's incident and the aftons/emilys and all the other fucking incidents . michael "had nothing to do for thirty years besides hunt down his father and watch shitty tv" afton HAD to check them out sometimes right . what does he do when he finds out that some guy on reddit got everything right and law enforcement didn't .

#michael vc: i'm bored i'm gonna listen to this episode of a podcast about my dads restaurant and laugh at everything they get wrong #springtrap stuck in his little back room downvoting people's theories 💀 #not to mention help wanted's.. uh... Decision that there are fucking GAMES in universe to dispel the rumors 😭😭 #don't ask me about that i dont want to think about the implications it gives me a HEADACHE #BUT ... i think michael should play them lmao #clears it immediately like '??? this is not NEARLY as hard as actually being in there' #⁂ ･ﾟ: i was looking for a job‚ and then i found a job‚ and heaven knows i’m miserable now ➛ ooc

[feralreason]

Transcripts of Dave's phone calls

Things done while bedbound with a cold: As usual, Dave has dialogue, and I want it archived on here for ref, quoting, etc. These are the phone calls from the "FN.AF 1 but in DS.AF's universe" spin off game.

Note that they may not be exact since I transcribed by ear but yeah... close enough!

Night 1:

Phone Guy: Hello? Hello hello? I wanted to leave a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually- [ interference ] Dave: Sorry! I just had to cut that asshole off! What a fuckin' passive mack! Anyway, good fuckin' going on landin' a minimum wage job where you have to fend off giant felt-covered bastard-animals that want to snap your neck and stuff you into a fuckin' bear suit. That phone guy left some tapes of his own to help you survive, but honestly, they didn't do him much good. Spoiler alert: he fuckin' DIED! What a nerd! So, good 'ol Davey is gonna give you some of his pre-recorded safety tips. Step number one: don't let those bastards lay a finger on you. They can, and will, stuff you into a bear suit. Take it from me, those suits smell like slaughtered toddlers. Step number two: don't use too much power. You have two blast doors on either side of you, and two door lights. You can use those to check when the robots are comin', and if they're ready to pounce on ya, you can create a titanium fuckin' barrier between you and the deranged rabbit tryin' to fuck you up! Sadly, those impractical design measures were designed by me… meaning… they're a fuckin' hinderance. Both the doors and the lights sap your power, and if your power metre runs t'zero, the bear is gonna come out and fuck you up! Remember, you can't out-wrestle a fuckin' bear so make sure you don't run outta power! By the way, this place is totally fuckin' haunted, and that's on me! I sorta murdered a few dozen kids back in the '80s and stuffed them into the robots outta pure spite for the company. Don't worry though, kids don't count as real people. I'll call ya tomorrow, and remember you can't out-wrestle the bear so don't even try! [ phone hangs up ]

Night 2:

Phone Guy: Hello? Well, uh… if you're hearing this, then you made it to Day 2… uh, congrats! Uh, uh I won't talk as long this time- [ interference ] Dave: Hey! How y'doin', man? It's me again, Big Dick Davey! Night two, eyy? Good job on not gettin' stuffed into a tacky bear suit! Honestly, the night should be the same as last night was, just with slightly angrier robots who'll try to rip your throat out twice as hard. Oh, I forgot to mention, you're probably well acquainted with the bear, the rabbit, and the duck by now, but there's a fourth one in the building. Yeah, there's a fuckin' fax behind that tacky-shitty purple curtain in the dining area. Yeah, that fax is fuckin' mental, by the way. He's goin' t'slowly peep out of his curtain and then charge at you like a fuckin' banshee. He's a twitchy and decisive prick! Also, the company seems to have a thing for that fax, to be perfectly honest. Company tried to build a Faxy themed strip club… awful fuckin' idea. One orange bastard got far too touchy with the fax, if you catch my drift. Faxy's a real special character, though. A fan favourite… and the only robot at Freddy's who ever got to visit the Gra.nd Cany.on. Oh, if he charges at you, close the left door as soon as you hear his rabid fuckin' scream. If you're not in the office when he charges at ya, may Fr.edbear have mercy your soul. Well, that's enough pretending that I care about your safety for this night… I'll call you tomorrow with more Freddy's related bullshit trivia. See ya on the meme side! [ phone hangs up ]

Night 3:

Phone Guy: Hello, hello? Hey! You're doin' great! Um, most people- [ interference ] Dave: Hey-yo, doggo! It's me! Davey! Wow… Night 3! Incredible! See, if there's one thing I can do, it's give bad advice to future nightguards. By the way, since these messages are pre-recorded, I have no actual idea if you're actually alive or not… let's be honest, statistically, you probably died back on Night 1. Pricessless! If you're still alive, worry not! To survive the night, just do the same shit you did last night, but better! Yeah, those robots really want you dead because they think you're me. Yeah, long story short, I put on a fuckin' rabbit suit back in the '80s and lured some kids into the back room. Then I strangled 'em and stuffed 'em all into the robots. Now, I know what'cher thinkin'… 'What the hell is wrong with you, Davey?!" Rest assured, I'm just an eggplant man who gets a kick outta gettin' shitty haunted pizzerias shut down. Granted, I'm the reason most of 'em are haunted in the first place… by the way, nightguards who survive this far usually see weird things due to stress, and/or drinkin' the rubbing alcohol in the supply closet. You might see a shitty yellow recolour of the bear. If you do, just flip your camera monitor t'snap yourself outta it. Just don't dick around, and you'll be fine. I'll speak you tomorrow, dude. And remember: you might not be able to out-wrestle the bear, but you certainly can't out-wrestle the golden bear! [ phone hangs up ]

Night 4:

Dave: Hey! Dave again, I have a surprise for ya, man! Listen to this shit… it's hilarious! [ The FN.AF Night 4 call plays with Phone Guy being killed. ] Dave: Wasn't that fuckin' gold? Pardon the pun… he got fucked! Hard! Anyway… I'm massively fuckin' hunged over from drinkin' all of the rubbing alcohol in the supply closet last night. So Imma go have a fuckin' nap… catch ya later! [ phone hangs up ]

Night 5:

[ The possessed voice from FN.AF Night 5's call plays ] [ interference ] Dave: Hey there, man! Sorry to interrupt… whatever that was! You see, I've just realised somethin'… Most people who work here end up the exact same way: stuffed into a bear suit within half a week. I gotta wonder what kinda person would just get a job here, all willy-nilly, and then out-survive a man designed to make those robots behave. Bullshit! Y'aren't some rookie fresh off the street. You've manned this gig before. You're a Freddy's veteran, somebody with experience. According to my calculations, there's only two people that could be… a nerd named "Je.remy Fi.tzgerald", who by my calculations is basically a vegetable now, or… old sport! It must be you! Nobody else could just plop their ass down and survive four nights like it's nothin' at all… old sport… oh how I've missed you! You came back! Y'always come back! Have you come back for me, old sport? Have you come back for 'ol Davey? I knew it! I just knew that'cha really loved me! … Look. I have t'go, old sport. But, I'll be right back tomorrow night! Okay, stay alive, old sport… I'll speak to you again tomorrow, sportsy! [ phone hangs up ]

Night 6:

Dave: Old sport! I can't believe you've come back! You have no idea how much I've missed you, how much we've missed you! We're a family, old sport! Freddy's is a family… I thought you had abandoned us, old sport… but now it's clear t'me. We can be partners again! You have no idea how lonely these last few years have been, old sport… my life was dead without you, but, you were lost and now you are found. I'm comin' back for ya, old sport! I'm goin' t'come back and find you, I'm goin' to come find you, I'm going to come find you… [ Call ends ]

#𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂. — source : ❝ ᴅɪᴅ ɪ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ... ❞

[nhlandotherimagines]

Since When? -Matthew Tkachuk X Fem!Reader

This is approximately 11.2k words of a friends-to-lovers rollercoaster of emotions! I hope you all enjoy! I hope you all enjoy it! @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @jonnytoews19 @puckbitchesgetmoney @glassdanse @suzukick

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of nudity, implied sexual acts, angst, negative self talk, “unrequited” love, drinking, also some fluff as well. Please let me know if I missed anything!

In case you don’t know: Y/n: your name, Y/l/n: your last name, and Y/n/n: your nickname (can be replaced with your name if you do not have a nickname of course)

flashbacks are in italics :)

———

“Y/n, this is Macy. Macy, this is Y/n.” Matthew introduces you to the blonde girl he’s been talking about for weeks. She is so much prettier than you could have ever imagined. Beautiful blonde hair, flawless tanned skin, and her legs went on for miles. You shake the thoughts from your head a large grin taking over your own face.

“Oh how formal of you Matthew,” you say mockingly. “Please call me Y/n/n, and despite how Matty here is acting you have no reasons to be nervous. He talks about you all the time, I like you already!” You beam with a wink. Matt’s ears and neck burn red in embarrassment, as you and Macy giggle.

“I could say the same about you y/n/n!” Your stomach twists a little at that, what could Matthew possibly have told her? You and him have been friends for years. Best friends. You live across the hall from him now. When you moved to Calgary he insisted you moved into his apartment, but you know he would never take a girl home with you around all the time. If you are being truly honest with yourself, it has more to do with the fact that you don’t want to think about Matthew with other girls.

Yet here you are, standing in front of his new girlfriend, who could be supermodel. “Would you like to get a drink Macy? Let Matthew go talk boring old sports stuff with his jock friends.” Macy giggles at your request, but agrees quickly placing a kiss on Matthew’s cheek.

————

“Thank you for this. Matt’s been really weird about me meeting you, and I was worried you were going to hate me.” Macy’s smile falters a little when she says this, causing you to choke a little on your drink.

“Wow! He must have made me seem like a total bitch! Sounds like him really. I guess he knows I want whoever he’s with to be perfect for him, but he doesn’t understand that as long as he’s happy and that girl isn’t just a gold digger than I’m happy too.” You knock her shoulder playfully with yours, “He seems very happy with you, and for the record I think you’re really cool.”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, before Macy speaks again. “So how did you and Matt become friends?”

“It’s a long story, are you sure you want to hear it?” You chuckle, as she nods excitedly.

“Y/n l/n?” The teacher reads out your name.

“Present!” You beam from your spot at the front of the class hand in the air. You hear a few chuckles from behind you, and lower your hand slowly slumping into your chair.

“Matthew Tkachuk?” The teacher continues, after giving you a sympathetic smile.

“That would be me!” His voice causes your eyes to snap to the door. He’s beautiful and chaotic. Bright blue eyes, messy curls, a little smirk, and a cute little dimple to tie it all together.

“Mr. Tkachuk, being late on the first day isn’t the best first impression. Please don’t make a habit of it.” The teacher scolds lightly.

“Sorry, I won’t.” He smiles sheepishly, as he places his backpack on the chair beside yours. “Okay if I sit here?” He looks at you expectantly.

Unable to find your words you nod. He sits down, and smiles at you. “I’m Matthew.” He adds sticking his hand out for you. You take it, face burning red.

“Uh- I’m y/n.” You stutter out. More snickers coming from the seats behind you. Immediately you pull your hand away and stare down at your lap, tears burning your eyes. It was your first day of highschool, and already you weren’t fitting in.

“Well y/n, can I call you y/n/n?” He asks quickly, but doesn’t bother to wait for a response, “Want to eat lunch with me? It being the first day and all I’m trying to make friends. What do you say?”

“Okay.” You reply, and smile up at him. No longer feeling as shy.

So you did eat lunch together that day. And every day after that. You became best friends almost immediately. After a couple weeks, you met his family and fit in well with all of them. Matthew fit just as perfectly in your life. You studied together, you went and watched his games, you did everything together.

It was so easy to be with Matthew, so when he got drafted to the Flames your decision was easy. You immediately applied to the University of Calgary.

“And we’ve been friends forever it feels like.” You smile at her.

“So you guys dated in highschool?” She asks, but it sounds more like a statement than a question. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull at that.

“No way! Matt and I are only friends, that’s all we’ve ever been, and we are both VERY okay with that.” You cringe to yourself at how awkward you sound, trying to convince her what you were saying was true. And it mostly was, aside from the fact that part of you wanted more, and still do.

“Seriously? Not even like one date?” You shake your head, “not one awkward game of spin the bottle?” Again you shake your head, “not even a drunk hookup?” At that you laugh, and take another swig of your drink.

“I’m being honest Macy. The closest to any of that Matt and I ever had was my seventeenth birthday.” You shudder at the memory, “Neither of us enjoyed that.”

Macy’s face lit up at that. “Well now you have to tell me!”

You are standing in front of your bedroom mirror getting ready for your birthday party. People would be showing up in about an hour, your mom is in the kitchen finishing the cake, your dad cleaning the barbecue, your siblings at friends houses, and here you are standing mostly naked in front of the mirror. Admiring the brand new navy blue lingerie set you just bought, your very first set. You feel really sexy, for the first time ever, which at seventeen is a big deal.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been standing there, when the door opens, but you are too zoned out to even notice as you run your fingers along the lace resting on your hips. “Oh fuck!”

As soon as you hear his voice you turn towards the door and do your best to cover your exposed body.

“MATTHEW JESUS CHRIST GET OUT!” You scream at him, tears blurring your vision. He mutters an apology as he quickly exits your room.

You cry for awhile, the embarrassment making you not want to get off your floor. However, you do eventually, and change into the dress your mother bought specifically for your party. It was black, and much more mature than your mother would have ever let you wear before, or maybe it’s because you yourself look more mature. Who knows? All you know is that you don’t want to face Matthew.

It turns out that you don’t have to. Matthew doesn’t show up for the party. Brady does though, telling you he isn’t sure what happened, but Matthew isn’t feeling well. You know why though. He was repulsed.

You cry yourself to sleep after everyone leaves. Even going as far as throwing out the set of lingerie, unable to look at it anymore.

You thought you lost him that day. Thankfully though, the following Monday it was like nothing happened. Neither of you bring it up again.

“Wow! He never mentioned it?” She laughs in astonishment.

“Not once! I think he’s forgotten really. It’s not like there was really much to see anyway.” You go back and forth like that all night, sharing stories, buying each other drinks, dancing together. It is perfect.

Across the bar Matthew smiles to himself, watching the two of you getting along so well.

“Dude I told you they’d get along!” Noah Hanifin says slapping a hand over Matthew’s shoulder. He doesn’t hear him come over to where he stood leaning against the bar watching you and Macy dancing together, so it startled him at first.

“I knew they probably would, it’s just if they didn’t,” Matthew stops for a moment staring down at his drink. “I wouldn’t be able to choose.”

“Why would you have to choose?” Noah doesn’t get it, and Matthew isn’t sure the answer really.

“Every time I’ve been seeing a girl they always get weird once they finally meet y/n. Most of them just can’t handle the fact I’m so close to a girl.” He shrugs, and Noah sends him a knowing smile.

“So you’ve never told me, were the two of you ever a thing?” Noah asks, taking a drink of the beer in his hand.

Matthew throws his head back laughing loudly. “Seriously Hanifin? You’ve met the two of us right? We have been friends forever. Nothing else.”

“You’ve never even just hooked up? I don’t know, you two just fit so well together I assumed you would have tried it out at least once.” Noah shrugs.

“No way!” Matthew chuckles awkwardly, wanting the conversation to end.

As the two friends lean against the bar in silence, his eyes fall on you. You’re wearing a cute little black dress similar to the one you’d worn the day he thought he’d lost you.

It is your birthday, and Matthew can’t wait to give you the present he bought you weeks ago. It is a miracle he kept it a secret this long. Sure your party isn’t for another hour or so, but he can at least help everyone get ready. That way he can give you your present sooner, and without the prying eyes of your mutual friends.

So here he was walking up to your front door, the little velvet box tucked inside his backpack. Inside it a beautiful gold necklace, the pendant a simple letter ‘M’. Sure, maybe it was cheesy, but you love cheesy. As for Matthew he loves seeing you happy, and he loves you.

“Hey Matthew honey! Y/n is in her room.” Your mother greets him as he comes through the front door. He exchanges a quick hello and starts up the stairs to your room.

Matthew takes a shaky breath, trying to steady his breathing. His heart is racing, why is he so nervous? He tries to convince himself it is just because he wants you to like the gift and not because he has feelings for you. When he finally pushes open your door though, all of the air he had just tried to hold onto, leaves his body immediately. There you are. Standing in front of your mirror, back to him. Your hair curled loosely, and wearing nothing but a set of navy blue lingerie. Matthew is frozen, unable to speak. His eyes rake over your body, even though he knows it is wrong. You look good. So good in fact, Matthew’s pants have tightened considerably since he stepped through your door.

“Oh fuck!” He groans, eyes widening as he finally realizes the gravity of the situation. He watches you spin around, horror and embarrassment clear on your face.

“MATTHEW JESUS CHRIST GET OUT!” You yell, you sound so angry to Matthew. He is immediately embarrassed. Embarrassed to be caught, but mostly embarrassed by the affect you have on him.

Matthew runs home. He pleads with Brady to just put his name on the gift he is bringing, and to let you know he isn’t feeling well. The truth is, he doesn’t feel well. He is scared. Scared everything has to change. The two of you don’t talk all weekend, but maybe Matthew stalks your Instagram to make sure you have a good birthday.

However, the following Monday the two of you fall back into your normal routine. The incident is never brought up again, aside from in Matthew’s dreams that is.

Matthew shakes his head, trying to physically rid it of the memory. He smiles sadly down at his drink knowing that the necklace he bought you that year now sits safely in a box on the top shelf of his closet. He never got to give it to you.

“What ‘cha thinkin’ ‘bout space cadet?” You grin up at him. He smiles back at you, and throws his arm around your shoulder. Subconsciously he scans the room for Macy. “Chill out Matty she’s in the bathroom. You looking to dip on me already? I mean how can I blame you? If I got to go home with someone THAT hot I’d be leaving as soon as I could.”

“I’m not trying to dip!” He shoots back in defence.

“Okay! Okay! Cool it Chucky! I’m just teasing. I like her a lot! Why were you so worried?” You wrap an arm around his waist as he pulls you tighter into his side.

“Dunno. I guess your opinion is kind of important to me. Wouldn’t wanna displease my sidekick.” He smirks down at you.

“Oh please! If anyone is the sidekick here it’s you Tkachuk! Know your place.” You tease, as Macy finds her way over to the two of you. “He’s getting on my nerves! He’s your problem now. Have fun lovebirds!” You wink at them as you slip away. You need another drink, something hard. You also need someone to take home tonight. So you wouldn’t have to think about Matthew and Macy.

You like her. She is perfect for him, and she makes him happy. That’s what you want. It doesn’t mean you don’t wish it was you.

————

The next morning Matthew makes his way back to his own apartment. He had spent the night at Macy’s, but decides to get home early as his parents and siblings are going to be in town later in the day. When he turns down the hall, he notices the guy leaning against your doorframe. He can’t see you, but he can hear your laugh. “I’ll see you later yeah?” Nathan says leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.

“Um sure. Yeah.” You immediately start beating yourself up internally for how awkward that sounded. Sure Nathan is sweet, and last night was great! He just doesn’t feel right.

You say your final goodbyes, and promise to text him later before you close your door. Little do you know, your best friend is waiting in the hallway to greet your new friend. “Fun night fella?” Matthew smirks at him.

His eyes go wide as he realized who exactly it is standing in front of him. Matthew’s ego inflates significantly at how terrified this guy seems. “Uh yeah it was alright.” Nathan manages to stammer out.

“She’s something isn’t she? I’m Matthew.” Matt sticks his hand out for the stranger.

“Nathan, and uh yeah she’s great.” The two continue awkward small talk for a couple seconds longer before Matthew lets himself into your apartment.

“So Michael huh?” Matthew grins over at you. You roll your eyes, taking a long drink of your coffee from where you stand leaning against the counter.

“It’s Nathan, but you knew that smart ass. What about him?” You challenge, slightly annoyed that he had to show up and give you a hard time. Matthew just shrugs walking over to you, pushing himself up onto the counter beside you.

“He just doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Matty, how the hell would you even know what my type is?” You cross your arms glaring at him.

“He’s skinny, and he is definitely vanilla as all hell. Sure those aren’t bad things, but you and I both know you want a strong man to be in control. Only in the bedroom of course.” He adds with a wink. Your cheeks flame in response, shoving him. He’s exactly right. Nathan was a little scrawny, and not overly confident in the bedroom. Sure he was great, but he wasn’t Matthew. You curse yourself for even thinking about your friend that way. Your best friend that’s all he is.

“Matthew, get out of my apartment. Your family will be here soon, and I need to get ready to see my favourite Tkachuk.” You tease back. He rolls his eyes, but says nothing as he slips from the counter making his way out of your apartment.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the door shuts behind him. You need to start distancing yourself from him before things get out of hand.

————

“Y/N!!!” Brady gathers you up in a hug before you even have the chance to close Matthew’s door.

“Hey Brady” you giggle into his hair. He sets you down after giving you a quick spin, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline.

“How’ve you been bug?” He asks, throwing an arm over your shoulder after you finally shut the door. Him and Matthew have called you the dumb nickname for a long time, and at this point it hardly bothers you. You and Brady were always really close, but it was never the same as you and Matthew. He was more like a brother for you, one you annoy, share all your secrets with (especially if they involved boys), and also gave him a hard time. With Matthew, sure you annoy each other, and share secrets, but you and Matthew were a team. Inseparable. It doesn’t make sense, even to you, but you did love them both.

“Not too bad, trying to keep Mr. Hotshot in check. The usual. Though I’ve had some help recently, so honestly I’ve been a little bored.” You quip loud enough for Matthew to hear. Judging by the look on Matthews face though, he hadn’t missed any of the interaction.

“Oh get a room already would you!” He grumbles rolling his eyes and walking away. You and Brady share a look, and he shrugs to signal he’s just as confused as you.

Brady leads you to the couch, and you sit down. The two of you already deep in conversation, catching up on your lives. Taryn finds her way to the couch soon after joining in on your conversation. “So what’s she like?” Taryn asks after awhile.

“Macy?” You ask, and the two siblings nod at you expectantly. “She’s really great! She’s kind, smart, and not to mention a total bombshell! She is perfect for Matthew, I’m happy for them.” Brady just looks at you with a sad smile.

You want to tell him that it’s the truth, that you actually love her to death. Something stops you though, you’re not sure why, but you stay quiet.

Soon after Macy knocks on the door. Matthew runs to answer it before either of his siblings can even react. When you see her, your heart nearly stops. Once again you are in awe of just how beautiful she is. You stay rooted in your spot on the couch as the Tkachuk family takes turns fawning over her. For the first time ever, you felt out of place. You’ve spent the better part of a decade being that girl, the one the whole family raves about. The family chirping Matthew about what a miracle it was you stuck around. Sure it got old fast, but you loved it. Now you can’t help the jealousy that spreads it’s roots through your heart.

After the dinner, if you could even call delivered Chinese food that, you pull Matthew aside after the others make their way to the living room. “Hey Matt, I’m gonna head home I’m kinda tired.”

“String bean do that much damage Y/n/n?” He smirks down at you, and your face twists a little unable to find the humour in his friendly chirp. Matthew’s smirk quickly falls from his face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah ‘m fine Matty. I’m just gonna go okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow yeah? Tell everyone I’m glad I got to see them.” You muster a small smile as you turn towards the door. “You’re not gonna say bye yourself?”

“They’re having fun Matt.” You send him a better smile at that, trying to let him know everything is okay. You feel far from okay though, and you can’t even explain why. “And you should be too! Now get in there before Brady talks Macy into finding someone better!” You give him a playful shove towards the chatter in the living room. Thankfully Matthew chuckles at that, and let’s you go.

He watches you closely as you leave, and he feels guilty. Running through his mind everything that might have made you want to leave. Was it Brady? Was it him?

God it was killing him, and that was evident on his face as he walks into the living room. Brady catching his eye as soon as he did, noticing the frown that Matthew quickly covers with a smile. “Y/n told me to let you know she was heading home for the night, and she was so happy to see you all. Except Brady of course.”

“Awe well I wish you let us know before she left Matt, we hardly see that girl anymore.” Chantal spoke, but Matthew barely heard her. All he could focus on was the glare Brady was sending him. Matthew just shrugs at his brother, his form of silent communication to let Brady know he doesn’t know what he was upset about. Brady responded with his own silent gesture, a head nod in the direction of the kitchen.

As he peels himself from the chair he was seated in, Brady makes his way silently to the kitchen. Matthew follows, hand rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly once the two brothers are finally alone. “Why did she really leave? What did you say to her?” Brady was quick to jump on Matthew with questions, that if he were honest, Matthew was not expecting.

“What the fuck are you talking about? She was tired so she went home.” Matthew throws back, already angry his brother assumes it was his fault.

“It’s Y/n we are talking about! That girl has been around for years, I’ve seen her pass out at our kitchen table on family game night. She’d sooner fall asleep on the couch and spend as much time with us as she could than to just leave. And without saying good bye? Seriously dude what the hell did you say?” Brady was trying to keep his voice down, but he was upset. You were his friend too.

“Nothing! And how could I? She spent all night talking to you! She’s probably just going home to sleep with that idiot Nathan anyway.” Matthew grumbles. Brady freezes at his brothers statement. “Nathan?”

“Yeah some guy she took home from the bar last night.” Matthew explains like it was common knowledge, “he seems like an idiot.”

“Matt are you jealous?” Brady asks, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. Matthew rolls his eyes and groans out loud. “Brady are you stupid? No wait don’t answer that, you are. Y/n is my best friend. She can sleep with whoever she wants whenever she wants. I have a girlfriend.” Matthew’s fists clench at his sides, and Brady’s eyes flicker down to them briefly.

“Well the two of you need to figure your shit out.” Brady adds, turning on his heels and heading back to his spot in the living room. Matthew unclenches his fists, and takes a deep breath before joining the rest of his family again.

———

You sit on your bed, legs tucked under you, leaning back against the headboard. You press Brady’s contact, and watch as the phone rings. You didn’t FaceTime Brady often, but this was necessary. “What’s up bug?” Brady’s smile immediately makes you feel less anxious.

“Well it’s kind of a long story, I’ve been seeing this guy for a couple months now. He’s great, but I don’t really know how to introduce him to Matt without him being weird about it.” You chew your bottom lip anxiously, cheeks warm with embarrassment. It sounds so stupid to say it out loud. Brady’s laughing pulls you out of your spiral. “What’s so funny? Brady I’m serious Matthew makes everything so awkward!”

Finally Brady manages to catch his breath. “Y/n I had basically this exact same conversation about four months ago with Matt. You two are literally impossible! You’re best friends, you just want each other to be happy. As for Nathan-“

“How do you know his name? I never told you that?” Your dumbfounded expression has Brady in hysterics once again. “Matthew.” You groan, finally having pieced it all together. You mumble something about having to go before you end the conversation with Brady. You pull on an old hoodie of Matthew’s that’s slightly too big for you, and quickly make your way to Matthew’s apartment.

You let yourself in, like you always have. Instead of being met by Matt playing video games like you expected, you’re met with a much more horrifying image. Matt has Macy pinned to the couch, and let’s just say they aren’t having a wrestling match. The noise of shock that escapes you alerts the couple of your presence. “Y/n!” Matthew exclaimes quickly crawling off of Macy. He grabs the nearest throw pillow covering his junk with it awkwardly.

After far too long of gaping at the couple you manage to snap out of it, turning back to head for the door again. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I didn’t- oh Jesus! Pretend I was never here I’m sorry!” You’re out of his apartment in record time. Collapsing just inside your apartment door, tears stinging your eyes. The embarrassment was overwhelming, how were you supposed to face either of them ever again?

———

“Well fuck!” Matthew groans after the door slams shut behind you. Macy starts giggling from her place on the couch, and Matthew sends her a glare.

“Oh loosen up tough guy! At least you’re even now!” She shoots back wiggling her eyebrows at him. Matthew stands frozen in his place. “What are you talking about?”

“Her 17th birthday Matthew, do you actually not remember that?” Macy let’s out an awkward laugh, as she watches the pain on Matt’s face. “She told you that?” Matthew is angry, and he knows he shouldn’t be. Why would you tell his girlfriend about that when you have never even talked to him about it? He’s your best friend.

Macy just nods, slightly scared to actually admit it out loud. Matthew lets out a small ‘oh.’ before leaving the room. He emerges a few minutes later fully clothed to find Macy gathering her things to leave.

“I’m sorry you don’t have to leave.” Matthew mumbles, but he only half means it. Sure he doesn’t want her to leave, but he needs to talk to you. Needs to make this right.

“Go talk to her Matty, seriously. Figure it out, I’m not sure why it made you so upset that she just walked in here. What did you expect? She always does. Set some boundaries maybe? You’re a grown man Matthew, it’s not my job to play the parent and fix whatever is happening here.” Macy huffs, slamming the door just as hard as you had not long before. Why was everyone so upset with him? First Brady, then you, now Macy too? What was he doing wrong? And why did the get so upset about Macy bringing up your 17th birthday?

Matthew tries not to get caught up in his mind too long. Instead he roots through his closet shelves looking for your birthday present. Sure maybe it was 6 years late, but how else could he make up for the awkward night?

———

You are laying on your living room floor when Matthew lets himself into your apartment. “What are you doing on the floor?” Matthew chuckles, leaning against the wall closest to you.

“‘M not sure.” You mumble, unable to look at him. Instead you study a paint chip directly above you. You hear Matthew set something down before he pushes your coffee table a few feet away. He then drops himself next to you rather ungracefully, tucking an arm behind his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t knock.” You say quietly, so quietly in fact Matthew almost doesn’t hear it. He does though and he turns his head to face you.

You turn towards him, taking in his features for the first time since he entered your apartment. The sad smile on his face knocks the wind out of you for a moment, as you get lost in his blue eyes. “When have you and I ever knocked? I should’ve put a sock on the door handle.” He chirps back, sealing it with a wink. You laugh lightly at his comment, and turn your gaze back to the paint chip.

The two of you stay like that for awhile. Staring at a paint chip, in total silence. Your thoughts consuming you, as the tension seems to grow thicker by the second. You’re not sure how long passed before Matthew breaks the silence, but it was long enough that it startled you when he does. “At least we are even now. Though I’m pretty sure you got to see a lot more than I did.”

Lifting yourself up onto your forearms you turn to him again, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, I thought you’d forgotten. Or maybe you just didn’t want to talk about it with me because you were so angry. I just can’t believe you talked about it with Macy and not me.” He rambles on, but now it was him refusing to look at you. He looks hurt, and your mind races trying to put the pieces together. Then it hits you.

“My birthday.” You say, more to yourself than Matthew, but he nods finally meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry Matt, I just thought if I told her that story it would ease her mind about us. I was too scared to bring it up to you, and then so much time had passed it felt wrong to even talk about it.” Your confession causes Matthew to look even more confused. “Ease her mind? How would that story ease her mind?”

So you tell him. You tell him about how, like everyone else who has met the two of you, Macy assumed something had happened between you. A kiss. A relationship. A hookup. Something. “So I told her the story so she’d understand that even at 17 you were appalled by the sight of me, and how embarrassed I had been. And I told her that was our one and only ‘intimate’ experience.” You make sure to throw air quotes around the term intimate. Your explanation however, did not seem to make Matthew feel better.

“Are you serious? Not once in my life have I ever been ‘appalled’ by your appearance.” He looks extremely offended as he uses air quotes in the most mocking way possible. “Why would you even think that?” You laugh at that, though there is very little humour behind it.

“Matthew, we were 17. I’m not much to look at now, and back then?” You wince at the mere thought of your 17 year old body. “I certainly never had anything like the girls you were into Matty. I’m not stupid it’s okay.” He stares at you now. Mouth open slightly, eyes scanning your face. Waiting, hoping you’d say you were joking. Admit you didn’t see yourself as less than any girl Matthew had ever been with, but you don’t. Instead you stare right back at him, an emotion swimming in your eyes Matthew can’t quite place.

“You really think I ran away because I was grossed out by that whole encounter?” He askes, and you nod. Your eyes dropping to the floor. Matthew lets out a deep laugh, and falls back against the floor again. “Y/n. That is so incredibly far from the truth! I was embarrassed, so embarrassed that I ran the whole way home and locked myself in my room. I then pleaded with Brady to just go without me, and put my name on his gift because I thought you were mad at me. I thought you looked incredible, in fact I don’t think I’ve ever sprung a boner so fast in my life.” Your stomach flutters at his confession. The thought of Matthew thinking about you like that made the want you’d been pushing down for years start to bubble up again. You can’t bring yourself to respond, instead you pick absentmindedly at a loose thread on your shorts. Matthew lets out a loud groan, pulling himself up off the floor entirely.

“Sorry if that made this weird. I hope you understand that you shouldn’t ever compare yourself to any girl. You’re amazing y/n.” You smile up at him and mumble a thank you. It takes everything in you to will away the tears that begin to form in your eyes. “If you don’t believe my story,” Matthew nods to a small box sitting on the coffee table he’d moved earlier. “that is the birthday present I planned to give you that day. It’s the whole reason I walked into your room that day, I wanted you to have it before everyone else showed up.”

With that, Matthew is gone again. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in the small box, wrapped in pink wrapping paper. Poorly wrapped you might add. You stand up grabbing the box and a blanket. Wrapping yourself tightly in the blanket, you fall back against the couch examining the package closely.

After twenty minutes of staring at it, you peel away the pink paper with trembling fingers. The dark velvet box, has a sticky note stuck to the top. As you read it, the tears start to fall steadily.

Happy Birthday! I hope you know just how much you mean to me. Hopefully this gift will mean that you never forget me. Love you bug xx-Matty

The little heart he drew at the end pulls a sob out of you. Contrary to the sobs now wracking your body, a smile forms on your face. Slowly, you flip open the small box. Gasping loudly, the box slips from your grasp as both hands come to your face. Although moments ago you wouldn’t have thought it possible, you cry harder now. The necklace is simply beautiful. The small golden ‘M’ makes your heart soar, and break simultaneously.

Your mind runs in circles now. Had you received the gift on the day you were intended to, would things be different? The gift seems more than platonic. You need to confide in someone. You had no idea who to call. You can’t call Brady, he wouldn’t understand. You most definitely can’t call Macy.

Without even thinking you pick up your phone and press on one contact. The phone rings as you press it to your ear. “Hello?”

“It’s beautiful Matt, but it’s too much I can’t take this.” Your voice is shaking and you hope he can’t hear it. Your heart is racing, mind spinning, and nausea swirls through you.

“Y/n/n, keep it please. I bought it years ago, I can’t return it. You’re still my best friend and I want you to have it. We are still friends...” Matthew pauses for a moment, “right?”

“Of course!” You say trying to fight off the urge to tell him you aren’t. You of course would always be friends, but you don’t want that anymore. You can’t continue being a third wheel. “Actually that’s why I went over earlier. I wanted to invite you and Macy out to dinner. Tomorrow night. With me and my boyfriend. If you’re free of course!”

You couldn’t sound more awkward if you tried, but Matthew agrees. You make plans to meet at your favourite diner the following evening, and then say goodnight.

Matthew doesn’t need to know that you slipped the gold chain on after hanging up. Just like you don’t need to know Matthew was currently canceling plans he had previously made with Macy.

———

“Matthew this is-“ You start to introduce the two men standing in front of you, but Matthew quickly interrupts.

“Nathan I know. Nice to uh- see you again I guess?” Nathan let’s out an awkward chuckle as he shakes Matthews hand. “Anyways!” You say breaking the awkward silence that fills the space around you. “Where is Macy anyway?” You ask, taking your seat at the table. Both guys follow suit, and Matthews gaze finally falls to you.

“She sends her apologies, something came up with work. You’re stuck with just me tonight.” He says, sending a wink in Nathan’s direction.

“Tkachuk I swear to god. Be a pest on the ice all you want, but can we for once have a civil meal?” You glare at him across the table, and Nathan sets a hand gently on your shoulder.

“Don’t worry babe, he’s just having some fun.” Nathan says reassuringly. You smile at him, but the smile quickly fades when Matthew speaks up again. “Yeah babe, we’re just having fun.” He laughs mockingly.

Dinner continues a lot like that. Back and forth, both men trying to prove something. Nathan trying to prove to Matthew that he isn’t temporary. Matthew trying to prove to Nathan, that Matthew is a constant in your life and can end this in a second if he wanted. Whatever this was. The pair even argue over who would pay the bill. You end up paying it yourself, as you leave the testosterone at the table to battle it out.

Nathan has to get home, as he has work early tomorrow. So of course Matthew takes it upon himself the drive you back home. The ride is silent, and you fiddle with the chain around your neck the whole way. No words are spoken until Matthew puts the car in park. “String bean know you’re wearing my initial?” He smirks, eyes falling to where your hands still tug at the chain.

“What’s your issue with him?” You spit, anger getting the better of you. “I was nothing but accepting of Macy. I befriended her for you Matthew! Why can you not for once just be nice and do this one thing for me?” You don’t wait for his response, instead you throw yourself out of the vehicle. You forego the elevator, choosing instead to take the stairs to get to your apartment as fast as you can. Once there you slam your door, and bang your forehead against the back of the door.

After a moment of just leaning against the inside of the door a small knock sounds from the other side. “Go away.” You grumble, knowing exactly who is on the other side.

“Bug. Please just listen.” He pauses for a moment and you just let out a shaky breath. “I’m scared you’re settling. I want you to be happy, but I get the feeling he’s not it. I’m sorry I was rude, that was a dick move. I just really care about you, and just because I know I could totally take string bean in a fight, doesn’t mean I want to. I know you’re lonely, and you’re feeling like a third wheel. You’re allowed to date Bug, but I want you to be happy and loved. If it’s really string be- Nathan.” He corrects himself, “If it’s really Nathan you want, then great! I’ll apologize to him, and we can move on. But Y/n, I think you and I both know he’s not. Find what you want and go get it. You deserve it.” Tears are flowing silently down your cheeks. Matt is right. Nathan is not what you want, he never will be. It’s Matt, it’s always been Matt.

After a minute or two of trying to compose yourself, you really think about Matthew’s words. Find what you want and go get it. He’s right, how can you ever be happy if you don’t at least try to chase what you want? So with that you fling open your door, ready to run into Matthew’s arms. To tell him how you feel, to tell him that it’s him you want.

As if the world was trying to play a cruel trick on you, it’s not Matt’s arms you’re greeted with. Instead of being held tightly in his warm embrace, you find yourself surrounded by a cold and empty hallway. It’s so quiet, you can practically hear the sound of your heart breaking all over again. You laugh humourlessly at how stupid you feel. You had hoped Matt’s words of encouragement were a sign. A sign that he could see your harboured feelings, and wanted nothing more than for you to act on them.

Matt watches you through the peephole in his apartment door, heart shattering as you shrink back into your apartment. Nothing was fixed. Macy had told him to fix this, but he’d only manage to make it worse.

———

“Why’d you call her that?” Macy presses, moments after her and Matt walk into his apartment. Matthew shrugs, which is not helping the situation. He could just be honest, and tell Macy that he and Brady had always called you bug.

It all started one summer afternoon when you had thrown a total fit after Brady had pointed out a bug had landed in your hair. For months Brady and Matthew would randomly yell ‘BUG!’ while pointing at you to get a reaction. At some point they just started calling you bug. It was stupid and platonic. At least it was for Brady. The way Matthew said it was always different. It gave you butterflies, and Matthew would be lying if he said he didn’t love the pet name.

“It’s just a nickname.” He defends, walking to the kitchen. She follows closely behind him, watching closely as he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. He leans against the counter taking a long drink, as Macy stands with her arms crossed waiting for more. Matthew was getting frustrated with the whole situation. “Are you seriously upset about me calling her bug?” He asks in disbelief.

Macy shakes her head, laughing humourlessly with a roll of her eyes. “No Matthew. I’m not. It’s a cute little nickname and that’s absolutely fine. It’s the fact that when she’s around you’re different. It’s like you’re scared to stand too close to me, like she might be upset about it. You tiptoe around her, you didn’t even want to tell her about me Matt. Are you ashamed of me?” The emotion evident in Macy’s eyes, is something Matt hasn’t seen from her before. Something he wasn’t expecting.

“Macy, I am not ashamed of you at all. I-it’s just that Y/n has no one in Calgary, and I’ve always been her bestfriend. When I started seeing you I was scared she’d cling to whoever she felt could fill the spot I had to step back from. And she did, and she isn’t happy with him. I’m sorry that you suffered because of it.” He tries to explain, walking to the girl standing in front of him. He grabs her hips and places a kiss to her temple as tears threate to slip down her cheeks.

“I’m your girlfriend Matt. Start acting like it.”

———

“How did it go?” Brady asks, his goofy smile way too close to the screen. He FaceTimed you a few times a month usually. Checking in, on you and Matt both. He knows you had gone to dinner with Matt and Nathan two nights ago now. You know he called looking to say ‘I told you so’, but you know he won’t be able to. This was one time you truly wish he could.

“Uh it. Well, it wasn’t great.” You frown, and Brady’s smile quickly falls as well. “Nathan and I broke up.”

“WHAT!? Do I have to fight a man, because I have done it before and I’ll do it again?” He jokes to lighten the mood that quickly shifted.

“I actually broke up with him...” Brady’s face twists in confusion. Trying to piece together what he’s missing. A week ago you were so stressed out about Matthew not liking this guy, that you didn’t even want them to meet. Now you had broken up with him? Needless to say Brady was baffled. “He wasn’t what I wanted, I was settling.” You mumble a little embarrassed, as you fiddle with the chain that hasn’t left your neck.

“Y/n... you have to move on.” Brady says gently. Certainly not the reaction you were expecting.

“Brady, I’m fine. I broke up with him. I’m over Nathan, honestly there was nothing to get over.” You shake your head, bringing a smile to your face to emphasize the fact you are okay.

“Not Nathan.” Brady sighs shaking his head. It doesn’t make sense, but judging by the serious tone of his voice and the gentle smile. You aren’t going to like where this was going. “You need to get over Matthew.”

The minute the words leave his mouth you want to scream and cry. Tell him he’s wrong, and an asshole for even assuming that. You want to tell him he’s right. To ask him for help. You want to ask him why you have to get over him, and explain that you can’t. You want to ask him so many questions, but only one comes out; “Why have I never been good enough for him Brady?” You’re crying now. No actually, you’re sobbing. You’re inconsolable, and Brady is in Ottawa.

“Y/n it’s not like that.” He doesn’t know how to let you down easy. How can he explain that Matthew loves everything about you, but would never love you the way you love him? How can someone explain that you were exactly what Matthew wants, and that’s why you’ll never be his. Matthew can’t lose you. He can’t wreck what you have. Brady doesn’t know that Matthew used to want you that way. All he knows is that anytime he, Chantal, Taryn, or Keith brought it up Matthew would laugh and say he could never date you. You are his bestfriend. The truth is, Matthew knows he isn’t good enough. Not for you. No one ever will be. You are perfect to him.

“Forget it.” You bark, more aggressively than Brady deserves, but you are hurt. You have never talked to anyone about how you feel about Matthew. Having Brady call you out like that terrifies you. Who else knows? Taryn? Chantal? Does Matthew know? Just the thought of it makes your stomach churn. You immediately end the FaceTime call, not allowing Brady to say anything else.

He tries calling back. You ignore him, just like you ignore the constant stream of texts. He even has Taryn trying to get ahold of you. Of course he does. You shut off your phone, and curl up on your couch. The bad reality tv show playing softly in the background can’t even keep your attention. You instead, stare at the coffee table. It’s still pushed farther to one side of your living room, right where Matt left it. You continue to stare at it, your whole body feeling numb, until finally sleep takes over.

———

Matthew knows something is up as soon as Brady calls him. “What happened Brady?” Matthew asks, concern for you beating out any rational thoughts. He knows how pathetic he sounds, and prays his brother doesn’t pick up on it. As soon as Brady mentions your name, Matthew demands more information, but Brady won’t tell him what happened.

“I’m sure she’s fine Matt, I just upset her and now she won’t answer my calls. Please just check on her and tell her I’m sorry.” Brady says, before abruptly being hung up on. Again.

Matthew quickly makes his way to your door, and lets himself in. Sure he should knock, but he knows if you are upset you likely won’t answer anyway. The sight that meets Matthew when he enters your apartment makes his heart burst. There you are, curled up in a blanket fast asleep, hand clutching the pendant around your neck. He tries his best to stop the feeling in his gut as he realizes how domestic this moment feels.

Matthew gathers you in his arms as gently as he can, and carries you to your bedroom. As he lays you down, you adjust yourself slightly, but it is clear you are out like a light. “You’ll find him bug.” Matt whispers as he places a gentle kiss to your hairline. “The perfect guy is going to come along and sweep you off your feet. You’ll have that big wedding you’ve always wanted, a couple beautiful little babies, and I’ll be there cheering you on. You’re perfect bug, never settle.” Matthew fights back the lump that forms in his throat, as he pushes the hair gently from your face. “I wish it could’ve been me.” He says it so quietly that if you had been awake you still may not have heard him. So he leaves, pushing all those thoughts away and trying to remember that you’ll always be his best friend. Just his best friend.

———

“Well if it isn’t Matthew’s better half!” Mark greets you as you find your way into the backyard. You somehow got an invite to the teams’ end of the season BBQ, and now here you are already getting chirped by the captain.

“Easy there Gio, Matt has a girlfriend now remember?” You joke back with a wink, but you feel a twinge of sadness. You don’t have much time to think about it though, as the captain throws his arm over your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. “I’ve always liked you better though, not sure why he’d pass up on you.” The blush that floods your cheeks makes your whole body feel hot with embarrassment. You know he’s joking, but it does feel good to hear it.

Mark leads you deeper into the yard, as you say hi to everyone. “There she is!” Your head snaps around quickly as you hear Matt’s voice. As soon as your eyes land on him, you notice his are already on you. “Hey Matty!” You greet with a smile as he wraps you in his arms. He smells like sweat and beer, and he refuses to let you out of his grasp. That is until you hear someone clear their throat, and he pulls away awkwardly.

“Macy! How’ve you been?” You greet her with a big smile and pull her into a hug. She responds quietly, and soon after excuses herself to get a drink. You send Matt a questioning look, but he only shrugs and drags you to the beer pong table announcing you are his partner.

That’s how your afternoon goes, beating everyone in beer pong with Matt as your partner. You’re slowly getting tipsy, and subsequently warmer. Peeling your top off, Johnny Gaudreau whistles loudly from across the table. You are wearing a pretty revealing red bikini top, but given the fact you are slightly intoxicated Johnny’s reaction doesn’t bother you. In fact it is welcomed as you send him a wink.

“Hey Gaudreau! How about you stop staring at my friends chest and throw the damn ball?” Matt growls beside you. You bump your hip with his, and furrow your brows at him silently asking if he’s okay. He shakes his head gently in dismissal as he smiles at you.

Macy sits quietly to your left, watching you all play. She watches the way Matt places his hands on your hips to help you get in position. Watches as he lifts you into the air spinning you around after you win a round. Watches as Matthew tries to advert his gaze as you peel your shirt off, his neck turning red, and not because of the hot sun. The straw for Macy was when she seew the emotions on Matt’s face as Johnny hits on you. His entire body tensing, as he grips the edge of the table. Why was he so protective of you? Would Matthew not be happy if two of his best friends dated? It is in that moment that it becomes clear to her. It has nothing to do with him not wanting you to be with Johnny. He wants you to be with him.

———

“Everything okay? You’ve barely said a thing to me all day.” Matt asks when he and Macy finally make it back to his apartment. She sighs loudly, starting to gather anything of hers laying around the apartment.

“You were busy having fun Matt, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that. Or anything for that matter.” She responds, though her words only confuse him more. She just sends a soft smile in his direction as she shoves more things into her bag.

“Aren’t you staying?” He asks, a small pout forming on his face. Macy shakes her head, turning toward Matt. Her face is apologetic, but mostly unreadable to Matthew.

“You know you’re in love with her right?” Macy blurts out, and quickly clarifies. “Y/n, you love her.”

“Since when?” Matthew shoots back, way too defensively.

“Since pretty much always. That’s why I’m breaking up with you.” She smiles sadly closing the distance between the two. Placing a small kiss to his cheek, she whispers a small apology.

Matthew opens his mouth to protest, ask her to stay. Tell her she’s wrong, and that he loves her, not you. He can’t though, because it would be a lie. She knows it, and so does he. So he watches as she leaves, an uneasy feeling in his stomach as a single tear falls down his face. What has he done?

———

You decide to take a few summer classes to help make your work load for the upcoming school year a little more manageable. Choosing to stay in Calgary for the summer, instead of traveling back to St. Louis with Matthew to see your family. Matthew tries to convince you to go, but you tell him you can’t. You need some distance from him anyway.

———

It was distance you got. You barely talk to him all summer, and tonight will be the first time you’ve seen him since that night at the BBQ.

“How is Matthew doing?” Elias’ girlfriend Annica asks you, as the two of you take your seats at the home opener. You shrug and sigh taking a sip of your drink. “I don’t know, I’ve barely spoken to him since the BBQ at Gio’s.” You admit, a small frown on your face.

“Wait? Did he not tell you!?” She practically shrieks in your ear. You just give her a confused look, a wide smile stretching across her face. “About him and Macy!”

Immediately your stomach drops. You brace yourself for the announcement. Maybe they’ve moved in together? Got engaged? Having a baby? All of the thoughts make you feel sick, but you smile over at Annica trying to hide your emotions. “No I haven’t spoken to either of them really. What are they finally tying the knot?” You try and joke, but really you’re terrified of the answer. Annica’s face falls slightly. Confusion written all over her face.

“They broke up.” Annica explains in a light tone. Almost as if she was explaining it to a child. “Oh.” Was all you manage to choke out, as Annica watches you. She’s waiting for more of a reaction, but you can only sit in shock. What happened? Why didn’t he tell you? Why did no one tell you?

You can barely sit still through the game, you’re mind is running wild. Why had Matt not talked to you about this? Why had he barely spoken to you at all? Was he okay? Who broke up with who? Why do you care so much? Soon enough though all of your questions will be answered. You are standing next to Annica outside the locker rooms, tapping your foot nervously. She asks if you are okay, and all you can do is nod. Elias makes his way out of the dressing room and over to you. He gives you both a quick hug and you congratulate him on their win. “Matt will be out in a few minutes.” He smiles at you, and you tell the couple to have a good night as they leave. Gio and Johnny both stop to talk to you on their way out.

Johnny hangs back and waits with you. “How was your summer? Finally got a break from the pest I hear.” He teases, leaning against the wall beside you. You smirk up at him, “My summer was great! Significantly quieter than I’m used to, but I enjoyed it. It’s nice to see you again though, how was your summer?” He smiles brightly down at you as he launches into some long story about how crazy his training was. You try to listen, and seem interested, but that becomes significantly harder as Matthew finally comes out of the dressing room.

He is wearing a navy blue suit with a white dress shirt. The top three buttons undone, and his tie just draping loosely around his neck. His hair is damp and falls across his forehead, he is staring at his phone still not having noticed you. He almost walks right past you, but you speak up grabbing his attention. “Any time for your biggest fan hotshot?” His eyes snap up from his phone, a grin replacing his previously shocked expression.

“My biggest fan huh?” He smirks pulling you into a tight hug. You grip onto his suit jacket tightly not wanting to let go as you hum into his chest. “That why you’re wearing that necklace?” He teases and you blush trying to hide your face even further in his chest. “Shut up,” You mumble, “I missed you.” He kisses the top of your head mumbling about missing you too. Johnny clears his throat awkwardly, as you quickly pull away from Matthew.

“Well I’m going to head out now, goodnight you two.” Johnny winks at you as he walks away. You turn back towards Matthew to see him smiling down at you, and your stomach drops. A small frown makes its way onto your face as you remember exactly what you came to talk to Matthew about. “Matt, we need to talk.” His face falls a little bit, but he nods and grabs your hand in his. He starts walking further into the building, and you follow. Eyes trained on your hand in his, heart beating rapidly in your chest. You’re so nervous, that you hardly even realize Matthew is leading you up the steps and into two seats in the top row of the arena. As the two of you sit down, you don’t look at him. Instead you stare down at the ice, now only lit by the emergency lights causing a strange glow. You’ve never seen the arena like this, so quiet and lifeless. Your internal thoughts seem amplified in the silence, but you can’t seem to find the words to say what you’re thinking.

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit in silence before Matthew let’s out a sigh, turning towards you. “St. Louis isn’t the same without you.” He says quietly, a sad smile on his face as you finally meet his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Macy?” You blurt out, face heating up in embarrassment once again. Matt stares at you for a moment, before dropping his eyes to his hands that are now fidgeting in his lap.

“I didn’t know what to say.” He mumbles out, playing with his fingers. You shake your head and sigh, pulling your eyes away from the distracting movements of his hands. You decide to examine the ice once again, wrapping your arms across your chest. You’re trying to brace yourself for how badly this might end.

“You didn’t know how to tell your best friend you broke up with your first really serious girlfriend?” Your voice is probably too accusatory, but you’re hurt. How can he keep so much of his life from you? Your mind is running in circles as you wait for a response, attempting to hold yourself tighter.

“Yeah like it’s that easy!” Matthew’s voice is significantly more angry than you are expecting, and your heart rate increases immediately. “I say ‘We broke up.’ And then you ask a million questions about what happened and why, I didn’t know how to say it!”

You look at him now. His eyes are glossy, and his face is red. In anger or embarrassment? Who knows, maybe both. “Matty, I know you really cared about her. It’s not easy to talk about, but if you’re going to move on you have to talk to someone.” You make sure to keep your voice gentle as you speak, “I want to be that person for you Matt, but if I’m not that’s okay. Just please talk to someone, you can’t stay broken forever.”

Matthew laughs at you, but it doesn’t make you feel better. The laugh is humourless, and you can hear the lack of emotion behind it. “That’s the part I can’t explain Y/n, you don’t get it! I’m not broken about it, and I should be! I was in love!” He’s frustrated now, as he runs his hands over his face and through his hair.

“Matthew, it’s okay. People fall out of love all the time!” You place a hand on his bicep to try and sooth him. It seems to work as you feel his muscles relax under your touch. He sighs softly beside you, as he lifts his eyes to meet yours once again.

“I didn’t fall out of love, I’m still in love.” Your brows furrow in confusion, as you search his eyes for any clue about what could be going on inside his head. “Just not with Macy.”

“T-there’s someone else?” You are taken aback, and now your mind is spinning. Did he cheat on Macy? Who is she? Matthew just nods in response. “Have I met her? Oh my god please don’t tell me it’s like one of the WAGs or something!” You are rambling uncontrollably, unable to comprehend what Matthew is trying to say. “Matthew did you cheat on Mac-“ Thankfully he was quick to cut you off.

“It’s you.”

You freeze. Eyes practically popping out of your skull, you open and close your mouth repeatedly. Sure you might look like a fish out of water, but that’s exactly how you feel. You must have misheard what he is saying. Right? The ‘you’ had to be someone else. The look Matthew is giving you right now though, a look of total honesty, a look that is teetering on the edge of disappointment. That look tells you all you need to know. He means you. He is in love with you.

“Since when?” You croak out. Your entire body is trembling with nerves, still terrified he will take it back. Maybe you’re being punked.

Matthew leans closer to you, uncrossing your arms that were still wrapped tightly across your chest. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat as he takes your trembling hands in his. His hands feel different now, softer. They are so much bigger than your own, and you’ve never noticed until now just how right they felt wrapped around your own.

Matthew releases on of your hands, as he brings one to your chin. He tilts your head so you’re looking into his eyes again. “Since always.” He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours. You subconsciously lick your lips, and Matthew takes that as a sign to lean in. His lips hover just above yours, but he doesn’t close the gap.

“Matty-“ you whine quietly, and he smirks in response.

“What’s wrong bug?” He’s teasing you now, and he knows it.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment since the tenth grade, please just kiss me!” Your pleads are finally answered as Matthew finally presses his lips to yours. It’s firm and certain, and intoxicating. Gripping his suit jacket, you pull him closer deepening the kiss even more. Matthew groans against your lips, one hand cradling your neck, the other gripping your hip tightly.

The kiss starts getting more intense, the years of built up tension and pining being shared in this one kiss. Matthew, despite not wanting to stop, pulls away first. Your lips chase his, not wanting the moment to end. Scared that when it does, you’ll wake up. Like this is all a dream. Or even worse, it’ll end, and Matthew tells you he was wrong.

“Easy tiger!” He chuckles, tucking some hair behind your ear. Matthew is positive you’ve never looked so beautiful. You’re lips are pink and swollen, face flushed lightly, and your eyes are big and bright as they look into his.

“Did you mean it?” You ask quietly, “When you said that you loved me, because Matty I can’t do this if you aren’t in. I can’t lose you.” Tears are stinging your eyes now, as your voice cracks with emotion. You can’t lose your best friend, and that has become more clear to you after not being with him all summer.

“I’m not going anywhere, if that’s what you want.” He looks at you hopefully. Your heart is beating so loudly in your chest, you’re almost positive he can hear it.

“Matthew of course this is what I want. I’ve always wanted you.” You pause momentarily, as you see a small smile spread across his face. His dimples now on full display. “I love you Tkachuk. I always have.”

He wastes no time kissing you again. Your hands tangle in his hair that’s still slightly damp, and his hands cup both of your cheeks. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your lips. You push him back, so you can look at him.

“Why are you apologizing?” You’re confused now, as you immediately begin building your walls back up. You’re waiting now, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You know this felt too perfect.

“Because,” he sighs, shoulders slumping under your gaze. “I should have done that so long ago. Instead I let you think you weren’t good enough. I let you go on believing that I didn’t love you. Brady told me about what you said, about not being good enough. I hope you know now that it was never like that. You are, if anything, too good for me. I was scared, and stupid, and I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Your heart breaks a little for him. You can see the remorse and guilt written all over his face. “Well Matthew. I can accept that apology under one condition.” You say teasingly, running your hand over his shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You take me out on a date.”

Matthew smiles brightly down at you, and places a soft kiss to your forehead. “On one condition.” He whispers, lips still pressed against your skin. “You let me take you out as my girlfriend.”

“Anyone ever told you that you’re just a big sap Tkachuk?” You smirk. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so happy.

“Actually my girlfriend has, just now. She’s kinda cute.” You slap his chest playfully and roll your eyes.

“Take me home Tkachuk.” You announce, pushing yourself to your feet. Matthew copies your actions, adding a little salute to make you laugh. It does the job, and Matthew has you laughing the whole way to his car. As he opens the door for you, you lean into his chest pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“You’re perfect.” Matthew says after the two of you are finally settled in to your respective seats in his car.

“Since when?” You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Always.”

#Since When? #matthew tkachuk #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #hockey imagines #hockey fanfiction #hockey writing #Matthew Tkachuk imagines #Matthew Tkachuk fanfiction #Matthew Tkachuk writing #Matthew Tkachuk x Reader

[duckugou]

the blood on our hands

bakugou x gn!reader

aged up!

cw: a n g s t as hell. comfort. cursing, mentions of drinking, smoking, etc. alluding to depression and anxiety. dealing with trauma of missions and losing people. a ton of mentions of blood

this is a heavy topic in the hero universe i imagine- and generally in the mental health world of it all.

lyrics are from purple flowers by ande estrella which hold a very important meaning that has nothing to do with this- they just worked with the story. But fr go listen to it bc its so good.

come to my asks to be a part of my taglist! just let me know what kinds of fics/ what fandom/ what characters/ etc you want to be tagged in! Requests are open!!

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reality is heavy and loud

Spacing out was more than being distracted to Y/n. Being a young hero meant stressful situations, overbearing management, tight spaces, stuffy meetings, and so much... blood. It takes a toll on a young person. Of course they wanted to be a hero- wouldn't chose anything else. They grin and bear this shit for a reason- to save and help people.

But god, who saves the heros?

but white has the privilege of washing machines to wash out the stains from their comfortable jeans

Some nights, after wrap-up meetings, everything was a bit too heavy. The usual group of friends and young heroes would choose someone's house to go to in order to destress.

For some, that was smoking. For some, it was drinking, video games, napping, venting, sitting outside alone yet with company. And for some it was merely listening to everyone else.

Not having to make a decision. Not having to be responsible. That's what y/n picked every time.

Bakugou would always notice them alone in the corner of the room. They were the one to come up with destress gatherings after hard missions. Bakugou knew it was so they wouldn't be alone with their thoughts. That's why he would always step in at times like as get them to talk, so those thoughts dont stay trapped in their head.

"Hey." Bakugou muttered, sitting on the floor next to y/n in Denkis apartment.

"Hey."

"You good, dude?" Bakugou asked with genuine concern.

He was always a bit nicer to Y/n. Nobody knew why, yet everyone knew why. They both were fragile and chose to hide it during the day, being strong around others to not raise red flags.

"I'm okay...just. That one was bad. I almost lost that kid. Like she almost fucking- died in my arms." Y/n choked out.

"Hey hey hey, its okay. You got her to the ambulance in time. You did that shit. You always do. You're the best in the game at comforting little twerps." Bakugou attempted to comfort them- somewhat succeeding and holding their head against his chest.

One time, Y/n mentioned that they held kids against their chest during rescues to calm their heartbeat. "If you listen to a calmer heartbeat, you're more likely to try to match it and slow your own down." Of course you wouldn't think Y/n would be able to have a calm heartbeat during a rescue, but they are very talented at controlling their nerves. Part of being a hero.

wiping the blood off their hands to their thighs, wearing the blood of the people who've died

Y/n subconsciously calmed down a bit, Bakugou's ability to remember every word that drips off of Y/n's lips paying off.

"I know. I just can't stop...thinking about everyone I've- we've lost. Its so unfair."

"I know. Hey, you have- uh. Lets go to the bathroom." Bakugou noticed a smudge of blood on Y/n's face and a bit on their hands. Cleaning up was the last thing on their mind earlier on.

"Ok."

Taking each other's hands, they walked into the bathroom. Bakugou sat Y/n on the counter, turning on the sink and grabbing a cloth.

"O-oh god. Thats fucking blood. I thought I washed my h-hands." Y/n began panicking, causing Bakugou to put their hands under the water with soap, washing it all off for them.

Tears mixed with the water from the sink and Bakugou stayed silent. Wiping their face, Bakugou looked into Y/n's eyes. These two have just always known.

They know what people can hide. What secret messages the body language of a person can hold. And he let them grip onto the back of his shirt as he held them in his arms, Y/n not being able to cry anymore and just breathing in his scent from his shoulder.

but dont let the purple flowers fool you

"Listen. We're going to get through this one. I know its hard on you- all of the families involved. But you- we saved them. We're all here for each other right? I'm here for you." Bakugou pulls Y/n back a little to look into their eyes. "You are the strongest one here. I know it fucking hurts. I know it is so...scary-" He sniffles a little, letting his own emotions take over. Something only he did when they were alone together. "- but we're heroes. And human. We are allowed to feel pain and sadness and disappointment- but we're heroes for a reason, right? We can handle this shit."

"I know we can. We always have. Just... promise you'll never leave me?"

"Youre so stupid. I've been more careful lately." He scoffs, wiping tears from his face. He of course knew that Y/n was referring to a few weeks ago when Bakugou got too caught up in the mission and was almost crushed by debris. He was pulled away in time by a fellow hero but it still opened his eyes, as well as Y/n, to how fragile they are, even if they are the heroes.

"I know Kats, but please. You're my rock in here. You're my person." Y/n says looking into his eyes.

"And you're my person. I can't leave you behind. You wouldn't know what to do without me here." Bakugou chuckles, earning a shove from Y/n.

"Katsuki." Y/n starts, holding his hands in their own.

"Yeah." He sighs.

"I don't speak lightly of feelings, you know that right?"

"Of course I know that. You don't talk much about those to anyone-"

"Except you." They interrupt Bakugou, reminding him of the importance of their unspoken bond and making his heart race.

"Yeah."

"Then you'll know how hard it is for me to say this. But- Katsuki I think I love you. I know we aren't super affectionate outside of being alone but- I've never felt what I feel with you before. I understand if you don't feel the same way and if this was all just because you felt bad but I needed to tell you that because you're really important and this is very import-"

Bakugou, in the most cliche turn of events, cuts Y/n off with a kiss to shut them up.

Pulling away, Bakugou rests his forehead on Y/n's .

"I love you too. I thought that was obvious when I never stopped you from saying my first name, idiot." He chuckles lightly.

"I kinda figured you at least liked me-"

"I'm going to keep you safe forever. That means physically and emotionally. No more hiding any feelings from me just because there are people around. Pull me aside. Hold me if you need or want to- I dont care if the whole world sees that. But just- fuck Y/n. I know you feel fragile. I know what it's like to be scared and hide it. I'm your diary now, ok? Always."

"Thank you...Katsuki. Fuck. You're everything I've ever needed. Plus youre kinda cute too I suppose." Y/n giggles.

"Oi fuck off." Bakugou kisses them again, relieved that he can finally be himself with Y/n, that he has them finally.

"I'm your diary too them, okay? I mean it. Anything, any time, say the word." Y/n says lightly, squeezing Bakugou's hand.

"Fuck. I love you."

"I love you too. I love how that sounds coming from you by the way."

"Me the fuck too-" Bakugou was interrupted by a loud yelling-

"I GOTTA PISSSSSS" followed by banging on the door.

"MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T DRINK SO FAST THEN LIGHT WEIGHT!" Bakugou responds, recognizing the voice of Denki.

"DONT MAKE FUN OF MEEEE I'LL LAUGH AND PEE MYSELF" Denki whined.

"Let's go, angel." Bakugou whispers into Y/n's hair, kissing them on the head and helping them off of the counter.

#bakugou x y/n #mha fanfic #mha fic #mha imagine #mha one shot #bakugou x reader #bakugou fic #bakugou angst #mha angst #mha comfort #bakugou comfort

[moldisgoodforyou]

lost time (chapter one)

pairing: rafe cameron x oc

a/n: while this features rafe, he is almost completely non-canon in this series! also welcome to my new series - I hope you enjoy 😌

warnings: drinking, cursing, mentions of sex

wordcount: 1.5k

MASTERLIST

______________

“You’re not seriously taking that.” 

Sophie Flint stopped dead in her tracks at the low, slightly amused voice that echoed down the hall. She had the Delta Tau Delta fraternity composite tucked precariously under her arm, which was definitely not fair game, but she had a mission to complete. 

She wasn’t exactly sure why it was a thing for sorority girls to steal things from frat houses. T-shirts, baseball caps, a fraternity composite if you were feeling particularly bold. But in a fun competition her friends on her dorm floor had concocted at the beginning of freshman year, she and her friends had made it their personal mission to collect at least one item from every fraternity, all 27 at Ohio State University. It was the start of her junior year and she hadn’t taken anything but a couple shack shirts so far (and was immediately told that was cheating), but a little pressure from her friends, a Delt party and a handful of White Claws made it the optimal time to act. Go big or go home, right?  

She turned, slowly and put on her flirtiest smile - and dropped the look the second she saw who it was. “Cameron.” Sophie acknowledged him with a mere nod, then started walking straight past him. 

Rafe snagged the edge of the composite immediately, tugging her backward. “Flint. Did you not hear me?” 

She rolled her eyes, keeping a firm grip on the composite. “Heard you loud and clear. Just not listening. I need this.” 

“What could you possibly need a fraternity composite for?” He questioned with raised eyebrows. 

“That’s for me to know and you to not find out.” She told him with a smug expression, curling her fingers tighter around the heavy frame. 

Rafe debated his options. He could let the girl go with a definitely stolen composite that would be kind of a hassle to replace, and let one of the pledges manning the door deal with it. Or he could argue more and watch the way her eyes grew bright and hear her little huff when she disagreed and - nah, it wasn’t worth it. 

He dropped his hand from the frame and lifted it in surrender, his other hand gripped loosely around a red solo cup. “I’m too drunk for this.” (He wasn’t.) “As long as you promise you won’t steal anything else.” 

She smirked. “I don’t make promises.” With that, she was on her way with the prearranged route - down the fire escape by the back hallway on the third floor, where her roommates waited not-so-patiently in the parking lot. 

___________

Rafe and Sophie had known each other since high school back in the Outer Banks, and they had never - ever - gotten along. He had gone to St. Andrew’s all-boys private school while she went to the sister school at Greenville Academy. Both grades were relatively small and students went to each other’s sporting events, combined for the yearly school play, and most importantly - threw parties together, often. The parties were always extravagant, alcohol flowing at some rich kid’s house with an excess of unsupervised teenagers milling around. 

If you asked either one of them where the mutual contempt started, they wouldn’t be able to pinpoint a specific moment. Sophie liked arguing (and instigating) just for fun while Rafe liked proving his arrogance. It was almost a guarantee at every high school party that at a certain point in the night, you could find them at each other’s throats, arguing over the dumbest thing possible. There was a point that it had evolved from coincidental arguments to seeking each other out to start a debate - no one else could go head to head with them quite like each other could - but they’d never willingly admit that.

___________

It had only taken them two weeks for their first argument in college. She strolled up to the makeshift bar in the sticky, dimly lit basement of Delta Tau Delta, way too confident for a freshman, and tapped on the pledge’s shoulder by the jungle juice to request a drink. Rafe Cameron turned around, wearing his backward baseball cap and signature smirk, and his face quickly morphed into shock. 

“Sophie? What the fuck are you doing here?” 

She crossed her arms, somehow already pissed off. They stuck to last names only, he knew that. That was their one unspoken rule they kept when talking - or rather, fighting - back home. “Please tell me you’re visiting a friend here, Cameron.” 

He grinned and spread his arms wide. “Welcome to my home.” 

“Dear god.” She elbowed him aside, serving herself a drink from the Gatorade cooler. “Of course you had to follow me here.” 

He gaped, mouth hanging open in shock. “Follow - follow you?! You’re high if you think I would willingly follow you anywhere, Flint.” 

“I applied to Ohio State, early decision, forever ago. You had to have known. It was my top school and top scholarship.” She shot back, trying her best to hide a grimace as she took a long sip from the sugary-sweet drink, laced with an ungodly amount of alcohol. 

He didn’t miss the subtle brag. “I don’t keep tabs on you. Why didn’t you go to Clemson or something nearby? You know, like everyone else?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Because, dumbass, I look horrific in orange and purple.” She proclaimed like it was an obvious statement. “And I wanted to get the fuck out of the Carolinas.” 

He grinned, completely unfazed by her insult,and lifted his cup to tap hers. “Cheers to that.” 

“Whatever. I don’t want to see you on campus again.” She turned sharply on her heel, leaving with the last word - or so she thought. 

“See you around, Soph!” He called out after her, way too smug for her liking. Typically, he would follow her and antagonize her some more, but as a pledge he was assigned to man the jungle juice for the night. He stayed put, only out of obligation - making a silent promise to himself to check up on her another time. 

___________

She ran into Rafe again one week after the composite incident. Literally. 

In her defense, it was pouring rain. She was just trying to be a good friend and drop her roommate Allie off for class, now that Sophie finally had her own car in junior year, but she was running late as always and in a rush. Sophie swerved around the corner of the business school parking lot just as a big black Range Rover was backing up, and gasped when she heard the tell-tale crunch of metal on metal. Allie winced, clutching her backpack in her lap. “Um…” 

“Just go.” Sophie sighed, knowing she had only two minutes to make it to class on time. Allie muttered a quick apology and dashed out of the car as Sophie dropped her head to the steering wheel with a loud “fuck!” She reached over and grabbed her insurance card from the glove box, then got out of the car, ready to grovel. 

Rafe slammed his door as he got out to inspect the damage. It wasn’t much, more like a quick bump and a paint scratch than anything, but he was already in a mood and this didn’t help. 

“Oh, fuck no.” Sophie cursed lowly to herself as she saw Rafe hunched over by their bumpers. “Great driving, Cameron.” She called out, arms crossed. 

He straightened up, walking over to her with an incredulous look. “Uh uh. This is your fucking fault, Flint. Just give me your insurance card and we’ll call it good.” 

She rolled her eyes and pushed a now-wet strand of hair out of her face. “Except you crashed into me. Ever look in the parking lot before backing up?” 

He scoffed, gesturing her over to look at the cars and waited til she reluctantly followed. “There’s an indent of your front plate in my rear bumper. And there’s about twenty students that probably saw it, want to call in a character witness?” 

“I’m not a bad driver.” She huffed. “That’s clearly your fault.” She was lying, of course - anyone with two working eyes could see she had rammed into him. And with anyone else, she’d be extremely apologetic, even patient. But Rafe Cameron irked her to no end. 

“Yeah, the time you merged your brother’s car into someone else on the highway our sophomore year of high school shows you’re an excellent driver.” He retorted, then started toward her car, opening the door. “Where’s your card?” 

“Hey!” Sophie grabbed his arm, pulling him back. She fished the insurance card out of her pocket and begrudgingly handed it over. “Chill out, it’s right here.” He took out his phone and snapped a picture of the front and the back, then handed it back. He then paused, eyeing her over. She shifted under his intense gaze. “What, Rafe, it’s raining. Hurry up so we can both leave.” 

“I thought you weren’t in the business school. Why are you even here?” 

“I’m not. I’m dropping off a friend.” 

He reached out and swiped a thumb under her eye, and she silently cursed herself for the way she fucking shuddered, like she was desperate or something. He smirked. “Your mascara’s running. Probably ought to fix it.” 

With that, he turned back to his car - enjoying her rare moment of silence. 

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron imagine #college rafe #frat rafe #rafe x sophie #mine

[whiteheartlight]

anyway this is a very niche interest of mine but my favorite au to think about is an alternate universe where Teridax is just a little less organized and decides to find and wake up the Toa Nuva early and use them as Toa Hagah for high-ranking Makuta to change their loyalties and show the Matoran that no one’s going to save them or the Great Spirit. he does it soon after killing Miserix. I’d put Gali and Tahu with Antroz, Kopaka with Krika, Lewa with Icarax, Onua with Mutran, and Pohatu with an OC at first and then later Gorast

a single Toa wouldn’t really be all that helpful to a Makuta when it comes to protection, so the Toa are more like status symbols to show the Matoran and other Makuta that these Makuta are so powerful even Toa serve them

Antroz thinks it’s entertaining to watch Tahu and Gali fight so he has a little arena set up and he’s constantly pitting them in fights against his enemies. Gali and Tahu fuck up anyone he brings around to fight them, but they’re often injured and have become high-key protective of each other, not to mention paranoid and absolutely vicious in a fight. They both have anger issues now and Tahu can get pretty anxious from the constant fighting and injuries. they’ve killed for Antroz and don’t think it’s a big deal. no one ever taught them much about the three virtues or the Toa Code. their only loyalty and duty is to each other and to Antroz, and everyone knows you do not fuck with Antroz’s little soldiers. He finds it all endlessly amusing.

Icarax, on the other hand, has no fondness for his Toa and uses Lewa as a punching bag whenever he pisses him off. Lewa’s trying so hard to be cheerful, friendly, and loving when he first wakes up and finds himself in Icarax’s service, but as the months go on he can never seem to do anything right and he’s constantly being thrown around by his Makuta. Lewa becomes tired and ill, roaming miserably around Icarax’s hold all day with nothing to do but avoid his wrath. whenever they meet with other Makuta or Toa, Lewa hides his injuries and bruises as well as he can. he’s starting to feel like he has no duty or destiny at all and he’s so unhappy he can hardly function. Icarax doesn’t care.

Pohatu’s Makuta is actually pretty cool! the two of them get along and for years he’s had fun protecting her and going on adventures and helping her build cool Rahi! their island is full of all sorts of Rahi and even their keep is always filled with life. the Matoran on the island are close to the Makuta and Pohatu has lots of friends. he’s really happy until his Makuta is mysteriously killed. it’s not til later that Pohatu realizes Teridax was the one to do it when Pohatu’s Makuta stood up to him. Pohatu is transferred to Gorast’s service. Gorast does not treat him well and also she’s super creepy and weird, as Gorast is. Pohatu runs away and starts plotting Teridax’s downfall

Onua works with Mutran and their relationship is... tense. Onua is clever enough to keep up with Mutran and actually be useful to him in many of his experiments (though he is only narrowly dodging being experimented on himself), but when Mutran is angry, Onua plays a very dangerous game trying to avoid his wrath. Mutran loses control and often threatens Onua or degrades him, and Onua, for all his patience, has shown Mutran a time or two that he will fight back if Mutran tries to hurt him. but Mutran likes having Onua around despite his ongoing struggle to feel like he’s in full control of the Toa of Earth. on their good days, Onua and Mutran get along and can even joke and have good discussions or do good work together. Onua has kept Mutran safe from his own creations many times and is proud to have done so despite everything.

Kopaka would probably be my main character if I ever wrote anything about this (because he’s my favorite) and he and Krika have a solid relationship. Krika lets Kopaka roam around the snowy mountains they live in whenever he wants and affords Kopaka just about as much freedom as he wants. Kopaka is very reliable and never embarrasses Krika or disobeys him in front of others. he does not speak when other Makuta are around and he’s intensely loyal. Kopaka is a strong fighter and most of Krika’s enemies know that they will never get to the Makuta while the Ice Toa still breathes. but the truth is that Kopaka’s beginning to feel restless and humiliated. Krika is very open about the fact that he sees Kopaka as a status symbol and Kopaka is beginning to hate how passive Krika can be. he wants his Makuta to stand up for what’s right and not be so conniving about everything. and, if he’s being honest... Kopaka is starting to get really lonely. he wants a REAL duty and people who actually need his protection. he feels like Krika’s guard dog and he hates it more everyday, but he doesn’t know what to do. while the canon Kopaka is decisive and strong-willed, Hagah Kopaka has become reliant on Krika’s approval and feels like no one will ever want him but his Makuta.

and then they start to meet each other.

Onua’s the first one who ever notices Lewa’s bruises and is worried for him. Antroz thinks it would be fun to pit Kopaka against Tahu and Gali and afterwards the three of them sit around and take care of each other’s injuries. Pohatu’s Makuta visits Krika for a week and Pohatu and Kopaka begin to get along and have fun together. Pohatu and Onua whisper about the strange way the Makuta are acting, beginning to realize something is wrong. Kopaka finds out about Lewa getting hurt and finds a way to bring him home with him instead of leaving him with Icarax any longer. one by one, as they see each other on rare occasions, they begin to understand that they were made to be brothers and sister. and as they talk, they also begin to realize that this is not their true destiny - and that the Makuta are up to something.

anyway that’s my rant for now lol but i think about it a lot. and the ending would be, uh. really sad lol

[turtle-paced]

GoT Re-Watch: Fine-Toothed Comb Edition

This post is also availablle on my wordpress.

Hello and welcome to forsaken lands. The episodes of GoT that broke fans. And considering that GoT fans made it past in-universe heartbreaks like Ned Stark’s death and the Red Wedding, and major disappointments in the writers such as ‘Breaker of Chains’ and ‘Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken’, that is saying a lot.

It’s kinda fitting that the home stretch starts with a funeral, really. Good way to farewell our hopes. We’re not getting closure anywhere else in this series.

8.04 – The Last of the Starks

(2:15) When the credits said “with Iain Glen,” this is what they meant. With Iain Glen lying on a pile of sticks for two minutes.

(2:46) We do not get to hear what Dany whispers into Jorah’s dead ears, but I’m pretty certain the implication is that Dany, in her grief, is thinking on the lines of “BURN THEM ALL!”

(3:00) Because Sansa weeping over Theon’s body is…somehow less worrying? Somehow shot without the implied promises of fiery vengeance? What we’re looking at right now I think is far more ableist than sexist. The difference between Dany’s grief being portrayed as worrying and Sansa’s grief being portrayed as, you know, grief, is Dany’s family history of mental illness. Don’t get me wrong, there’ll be a heaping helping of sexism in here too, a lot of it in how Dany’s status as a female leader is linked narratively to her emotional state (“hysterical women” and all that) and written into the plot in the first damn place, but right now what attracts ominously unspoken whispering on Dany’s part and “purer” emotion on Sansa’s is connected to the parties we knowhave family members who have suffered from mental illness.

Man, imagine if they’d actually adapted the books, where Sansa’s father suffers what looks an awful lot like PTSD. Which doesn’t stop with just end-of-episode flashbacks, but affects his ongoing decision-making processes.

(3:36) Meanwhile, over in the toxic masculinity department, note who isn’t being so disgracefully emotional! The men, and the women who “aren’t like other girls.”

The show had good material to work with here. They could have shown men breaking down, portrayed as a completely reasonable reaction to the incredibly traumatic events of the previous episode. They could also have shown men struggling with the stoic performance that toxic masculinity requires, only to break down later, or question their own lack of response. You know, like several characters do in the books.

(4:31) Incidentally, it amuses me that though the words of Jon’s speech are addressing the survivors, he’s delivering the speech to the dead (and also the camera).

(6:50) Uh-oh. Dany couldn’t contain her tears as she lit a friend’s funeral pyre. Bad signs! Red flags! Red like fire.

I’m just going to dig out a relevant passage from The Curse of Chalion (spoilers for that book follow). For context, the crown princess Iselle (daughter of a woman widely regarded as mad, for further comparison’s sake) and the chancellor, Dy Jironal, are locked in a struggle over who gets power when the king dies. Iselle’s BFF recounts a relevant public event:

“Iselle is Ista’s daughter. She cannot speak of [the titular curse], lest men say she is mad, too. And use it as an excuse to seize…everything. Dy Jironal thought of it. At [the late crown prince’s] interment, he never missed a chance to pass some little comment on Iselle to any lord or provincar in earshot. If she wept, wasn’t it too extravagant; if she laughed, how odd that she should do so at her brother’s funeral; if she spoke, he whispered that she was frenetic, if she fell silent, wasn’t she grown strangely gloomy? And you could just watch men began to see what he told them they were seeing, whether it was there or not. Toward the end of his visit there, he even said such things in her hearing, to see if he could frighten and enrage her, and then accuse her of becoming an unbalanced virago.”

If Dany cries she’s unbalanced. If she hides her emotion she’s unempathetic. If she gets angry, she’s insane. The difference isn’t in the reaction (as already noted, we’ve got other characters openly grieving and other characters hiding their emotions), but in how, whether, and when the reaction is portrayed to the audience. In The Curse of Chalion there is a named antagonist doing that spin; here, the camera, the viewer’s PoV access to the story, is pulling exactly the same trick as it checks in with Dany’s emotional state to highlight the “out-of-place” emotions. Even the frequency of these check-ins affects the portrayal – as the viewer is treated to each and every fluctuation in Dany’s mood, her emotional state appears less constant than those of characters where we don’t get a reaction shot every time a traumatic thought crosses her mind/she schools her reaction/something mildly irritates her.

This phenomenon is not isolated to this scene. It’s been happening all season. It’s going to keep happening.

(7:50) I do not get the mood of this scene. Tonally, it feels more awkward/ordinary than full of grief, with none of the wild “glad to be alive” mood until a named character prompts it later on. The background characters often do not appear to exist independently of the main characters. It’s just these little things that chip away at suspension of disbelief. In this case, a general feeling like this fictional world is populated by named characters and department store mannequins only, not people.

(9:24) “So who’s lord of Storm’s End now?” Funny question. Strange that nobody’s asked that in the last few seasons. While we’re at it, who’s the Lady of Casterly Rock?

(10:42) Nor do I get Tyrion’s tone as he observes that Gendry’s going to be loyal to Dany due to this appointment. I mean…yes? That was the point? As Cersei shows us in AFFC, appointments for surface level loyalty don’t cut the mustard, but at the same time, Tyrion’s not being cynical and sardonic about Gendry’s competence.

(11:29) Davos here has a heart-to-heart about his complicated feelings towards a woman who engineered the death of a child he loved very much. To Tyrion. Who engineered the death of a child Davos also presumably loved very much. Davos’ interactions with Tyrion regularly go beyond a man who’s bottling up the death of his child for the sake of a political goal he genuinely believes will better the lives of more than just him, and into the realms of real emotional intimacy and friendship. I swear the writers forgot about this.

(13:12) Just from a writing standpoint, that line, “I don’t really want anymore,” really gets my goat. Oh, Bran just doesn’t have any motivations anymore, no biggie. Now the only thing that I the viewer want for this character is for him to start wanting things again.

(13:24) “Mostly I live in the past.” Yes truly this is an excellent trait for a temporal ruler.

(14:31) Here we have the unintentional call-back to season one, wherein information that the characters in-universe find distressing is revealed via the now-rather-clumsy mechanism of a drinking game. Book!Brienne’s status as an only child is a little sensitive for her.

(15:07) Tormund’s praise of Jon here is also pretty clumsy writing. It’s hard to praise Jon’s actions in that climactic battle because, well, he rode on a dragon and fried wights for about thirty seconds, and that’s it.

It’s also hard to see praise for Jon without corresponding praise for Dany as anything but sexism, because Dany was also riding on a dragon and frying lots of wights, and they’re her dragons. Played as in-universe sexism, this could have been a good source of material too, highlighting how Jon’s gender results in him getting more praise for equal (or lesser) work. Left unexamined it becomes part of a sexist narrative, an example of how Jon’s gender results in him getting more praise for equal (or lesser) work.

(15:21) No, don’t mention that Jon got killed and brought back! Don’t! It just raises the question of why!

(15:40) Notice how we keep getting the Dany reaction shot? Yeah. Isn’t the fact that Dany has emotional reactions weird?

The dialogue makes this worse. “What kind of person rides on a fucking dragon? A madman or a king!” Did…did they not realise the depths to this comment? The context? I mean, clearly, this is another hint that Dany’s going ~crazy~. On account of how she cannot be a king. The context of Dany’s gender. The gendered language used here. The minimisation of Dany’s accomplishments. How did the writers think this would come across, if not some fairly blatant sexism?

(16:04) This is the third Dany check-in regarding her unhappiness at a fairly miserable party.  This one is extra special because the very observant and knowledgeable Varys is apparently thinking, “hang on, she’s not happy, and it’s a party! This couldn’t possibly have anything to do with listening to her boyfriend praised to the skies for things she did first and/or in parallel,  immediately after losing a close friend and fighting in a very scary battle. She must be going crazy.”

Also there is spooky music and the shot choice emphasises that Dany isn’t hanging out with anyone at this party. This is far more worrying than Bran not emotionally engaging with anyone at this party thus far or Sansa not hanging out with anyone at this party thus far or Varys not hanging out with anyone at this party thus far, or Sandor drinking heavily at this party while snapping at people who come near him thus far or Arya not even attending this party. Double standard? What double standard?

(16:51) Tyrion’s marriage prior to Sansa is here brought up as a joke. There’s a joke in here all right. I call it ‘continuity’.

(17:14) Oh, my, how shocking, Brienne’s a virgin. In this world where noblewomen having premarital sex is frowned upon, Brienne not having premarital sex is unthinkable and something that the rules of drinking games say she should be embarrassed by. Wtf?

(18:36) I’m as sick of the “Pod has a magic cock” joke as the next person but frankly, they didn’t beat us over the head with detailed stories or lurid jokes about Pod’s sexual prowess, and someone should have a nice time here in season eight.

(19:56) Oh boy. Reunion between Sansa and Sandor, when these two haven’t interacted for six seasons, and what interaction they had was seriously watered down. Thematically watered down, that is. In the books, Sansa did something Sandor believed was impossible – held on to her idealism and kindness throughout horrible experiences. He was the one who learned more from their interactions. Sandor was not serving as an author avatar, but rather being depicted as a man lashing out with cynicism and nihilism as a defence mechanism.

The show didn’t appreciate that back in season two and it’s sure not going to start now. We’re about to hear some real awful stuff.

(20:10) “Heard you were broken in. Heard you were broken in rough.” 1) Why should we like this character? He’s an asshole! Not just gruff, an asshole. 2) Why is everyone an asshole to Sansa about her rape? Of all the things to be an asshole about. We got it long ago. This world is dark and gritty.

(20:15) Note that Sansa executing someone by setting dogs on them is not depicted as a worrying sign of her mental stability or lack thereof, nor as a lack of empathy, but as justice.

(20:52) “Without Littlefinger and Ramsay and the rest, I would have stayed a little bird all my life.” Okay! Wow! What a line!

What the writers think they’re saying: Sansa has overcome adversity and become a stronger person for it.

What the context of the entire series adds to this message: Sansa needed to be raped in order to become stronger. “Becoming stronger” here meaning “someone who relishes retributive violence,” as if there is no other form of strength, and as if the capacity for retributive violence is necessarily a sign of strength. The person she was before, who comforted others in their time of need and stuck her neck out to help, was stupid, naive, and weak. There is something deeply wrong with retaining qualities such as idealism. Sansa had to shed those qualities. Rape was the way to do it.

So, in short, gross.

(21:30) This is…definitely some archery safety.

(21:42) We got that? Arya is celebrating by standing out in the cold, rejecting social activity, and continuing to practice with deadly weapons (nearly killing a friend as she does, good work!). But there’s nothing to worry about in terms of Arya’s psyche here. The difference is the family history of mental illness.

(22:54) Begin the ship-sinking! Anchors a-smash! This is one of two relationships this episode which work out well until nah. For reasons. Ultimately, I don’t think the writers had a clear vision of what Arya was and what Arya wanted, instead defining the character by what she was not. She’s not a lady. Okay. What does that mean? Does that observation bring us any closer to learning what Arya does want from her life?

Aside from Not Gendry, anyhow. Man. Hope nobody was invested in that ship, because that was quite the abrupt sinking.

(24:56) Now the show remembers that Jaime has trouble with things like laces when he’s only got one hand.

(26:07) Hope nobody’s invested in this ship either! More on Jaime/Brienne soon. Let’s just keep the pattern in mind for the moment. Long-teased relationship culminates only to fall apart almost immediately because reasons.

(27:22) While we’re on the general theme of romance. The deterioration of Jon and Dany’s relationship is dragged over a longer period than the other sunk ships this season, but the reasons for that relationship failure aren’t well explicated. In large part because Jon never has the opportunity to really go into the identity crisis that the parentage reveal resulted in (note that the info that he was seriously shaken about the idea that he was sleeping with his aunt came from the showrunners, not the text). Jon’s silence throughout episode two was a good idea, in the context of building up to an eventual resolution. Only the writers kinda forgot that such a huge reveal might need a resolution.

(28:24) Continuing the thread that what tips Dany over the edge is rejection. Yes! We are really doing this! She is a woman scorned! Goodbye seasons of discussion about whether the ends justify the means. Goodbye seasons of dealing with various setbacks, developing opinions of her own, and earning respect. We’re reducing it all down to “nobody likes Dany, she feels entitled to their love, and now she is angry.”

Incidentally, why haven’t people softened towards Dany? Who was, after all, riding on a dragon just like Jon, and saving a lot of lives? We’ll get to that in a few scenes.

(28:39) Again, the fact that Dany gets angry and emotional about the prospect of losing her claim in Westeros is part of the depiction of a general downward trend in sanity and upward tendency to assume her power as an inherent moral good.

The problem here is that a) Dany’s not wrong that Jon poses a political threat to her, whether either of them like it or not, and b) this character’s arc shows some good sound reasons for wanting power – to protect her own agency, at the very least, to say nothing of her broader politics. If Dany was forced to concede the throne, her ability to decide what she does with her own life is sharply reduced. Her ability to achieve what she wants to do in the world (things like ending slavery and oppression) is sharply reduced.

In short, this is a scene and a situation where getting angry and upset is an entirely reasonable reaction. At best, this doesn’t work to depict a character with declining mental stability. At worst (and I believe worst), the very fact that a woman has emotions is being turned into part of a narrative where her emotions render her unsuitable to do things such as provide a reliable perspective or wield any form of power.

(29:27) I’m actually sympathetic to Jon’s desire to be open about his parentage with his sisters. Again, there’s still good material here! Jon’s reasonable personal desire to not keep secrets relating to their family from his sisters vs Dany’s also reasonable political concern that the more people who know, the less controllable the information is, the more dangerous it is. That’s a real conflict! I’d like to watch more along those lines!

(30:15) The narrative of Dany’s “hysteria” is advanced by focusing disproportionately on her emotional reaction the dilemma, without an equal and counterbalancing focus on Jon’s side of the problem. Through this conversation, Jon’s offered simple rebuttals to more complex statements from Dany. I owe my siblings the truth. Sansa won’t plot against us. The truth will not destroy us. You are my queen and nothing will change that. What’s missing here is any sort of explanation as to why Jon believes these things. The lack of explanation leaves Jon’s character underdeveloped and shifts disproportionate focus to Dany’s reasoning and motivations.

(31:09)  So just to put a percentage on it, in flying north to aid Jon and save the north, Dany sacrificed a full 50% of her troops. Half the northerners were killed too, but I don’t think it’s a very controversial argument that without Dany’s aid, 100% of the northerners would have been killed. Also 100% of the non-combatants.

(31:27) Meanwhile, it’s made clear that as a result of Dany’s assistance, she’s taken a serious hit to her ability to take the Iron Throne. Note the mention of the Greyjoy fleet.

(31:37) “When the people find out what we have done for them – “ “Cersei will make sure they don’t believe it.” So…working out a propaganda strategy isn’t worth it? The woman who catapulted barrels of broken chains into Meereen to prove to its slave population that she was the real deal, something she did not do in the books, is out of ideas to counter the narrative? Dany kinda forgot that she successfully conquered three cities already. Not for the first time.

This is a fault with the writing. The writers are jamming square character pegs into round plot holes. These scenes pay lip service to the problems the characters come across, and dismiss those problems either out of hand, or as completely insurmountable and not worth bothering with.

(31:56) “Thankfully, Cersei is losing allies by the day.” Footage not found. Footage to the contraryfound, as Varys plonks down quite a few more new tokens on Cersei’s side of the map table. There’s no good reason for it, but there we are.

(32:24) Give the smallfolk the opportunity, and they will cast Cersei aside? There are a few problems with this.

1. It’s exactly what Tyrion proposed last season. How’s the strategy working out? A reevaluation may be called for here.

2. As someone who lived through food riots in a city under siege, Tyrion should be well aware of the human costs of starvation in a medieval urban area. This is not the mythical “humane option.”

3. This still doesn’t address the fact that Cersei is demonstrably willing to blow up whoever’s in her way, and a slow siege gives her more opportunity and motivation to burn down her own holdings just to deny them to Dany.

4. Why the fuck haven’t the smallfolk rebelled already, given that Cersei blew up the Vatican? If they are not going to rebel over that, what are they going to rebel over?

(32:52) Speaking of lip service! Sansa’s concerns here that the armies are exhausted would (and should!) be a valid and important objection to the wisdom of Dany’s plans. But we never see any evidence later that the troops are over-tired. Or underfed. Sansa’s insights don’t mean anything. And this is poor writing for her.

(33:02) Sansa’s proposed solution is an indefinite break. She came to the meetings without the details about how long a break might be appropriate. Keep in mind who’s been the most vocal about saying ‘we don’t have enough food.’ I think on context it’s fairly reasonable for Dany to suspect this is Sansa trying to get out of assisting at King’s Landing (and we’ll see shortly afterwards that she really does want to get out of assisting at King’s Landing). Likewise, the rebuttal that regrouping gives time for Cersei to dig in is another fairly reasonable argument.

But from Sansa’s comments, apparently this is Dany not caring about the wellbeing of her own troops.

(34:59) Now we get into it! Why are the Stark sisters so dead set against Dany, despite the assistance she’s provided?

(35:34) And the answer is xenophobia! “She’s not one of us.” Arya and Sansa do not trust Dany because “she’s not one of us.” No amount of assistance or heroism can overcome this fundamental barrier. It is bigotry. Not to mention it’s also pretty much identical to the Lannister ethos of “fuck everyone who isn’t us.”

Again, how did the showrunners think this would come across, when the Starks proposed treating Dany with “screw you got mine”? How did they think it would look for the Starks to accept the benefits of Dany’s assistance only to try and back out and treat her with rudeness and hostility when she wanted their help in return? How did they think it would look to have the reason for this rudeness and hostility be “she’s not one of us”? The Starks here look like absolute assholes. Worse, this reaction can be extrapolated to the North at large.

(35:41) Complete with some poor adaptation of Arya, who doesn’t need allies and apparently doesn’t care for friends either.

(36:21) So Jon decides to reveal everything to his siblings. This devastating family secret which should have to force every Stark to reevaluate what they knew about Ned and what they thought about Ned’s treatment of their mother and brother. This is a doozy of a secret. Let’s see some reactions.

(37:15) – a cut? What the fuck? We cut away from that? Why! Why would you do this! Why would any writer in their right mind and possessed of their dramatic sensibilities cut away from the moment two of our major PoV characters discover their father’s greatest secret, in the context of renegotiating high level political relationships?

(38:09) Bronn’s presence here is insult to injury. Not only did we cut away from what by rights should have been one hell of a reveal, we cut to a scene with a character who’s just here for the fanservice. It has been a very long time since Bronn was plot-relevant or theme-relevant. His presence here, in fact, just highlights the plotholes of his involvement in previous seasons. I mean why, for the love of all that is well-written, would this character continue to play along with the jackasses who’ve promised huge payoffs and never delivered?

…aaaaaaaand now that I write it, I see it. We are all Bronn here. Right up until he gets his fucking payoff, and we the audience do not.

(40:40) Ah yes, more homophobia which is somehow not problematic when a funny character says it.

(41:26) So now that that scene is over, what did it do? The answer is “very little.” It provides an explanation of how Bronn’s Lord of Highgarden at the end of the series, when Highgarden’s resources are no longer relevant to the plot. It does not matter who’s running Highgarden. But if you cut Bronn’s subplot from this season altogether, it doesn’t actually affect shit. Hell, it opens up plotholes. Bronn’s going to vanish for the next few episodes. Cersei’s going to proceed as though she never hired anyone to off Jaime and Tyrion, and Jaime and Tyrion are going to proceed as though Cersei never hired anyone to kill them. Also as if they never decided to give away Highgarden, something I’m sure Dany would be thrillled about.

If any of the characters involved thought about the implications, that is, instead of barrelling along with the plot because Script Says So.

(42:21) So Sandor and Arya go on one last road trip for old times’ sake. Can’t have this story finish with anything but revenge.

(42:33) Now, okay, I might draw some conclusions about the quality of adaptation from the showrunners’ decision to make Arya effectively not Arya, but they can make that decision and within the show’s own canon we’ll have to live with  it.

But Arya here walks out on her family, completely blank-faced, no goodbyes, no indication of any sort of grief (even a shot where Arya looks back longingly at Winterfell), on a suicide mission to take revenge on Cersei. It’s all very well to rely on Arya’s longstanding desire to kill Cersei. That’s fair. Now that desire should be competing with things like “longstanding desire to reunite with her family.” And the show skips out on depicting any internal conflict there. Instead, we approach Arya’s decision to leave through Sandor’s PoV, the reverse of the book’s choices. More about how the story weights the revenge narrative next episode.

Oh, and Sandor is also completely static as a character. Completely fucking static. Our time has been well spent watching this character not develop.

(43:37) “Why her?” Oh my god. Again? It really does seem like Sansa’s got nothing else going on in her characterisation this season but hating Dany. (This is not quite accurate. There are at least three scenes this season where Sansa is not directly or indirectly engaged in undermining or expressing her strong dislike of Daenerys.) I cannot stress enough, this is both poor depiction of Dany, and poor characterisation of Sansa!

Also, the choice to open the scene with Sansa staring at the dragons, followed by the line “why her?” frames Sansa’s subsequent choices in said scene as being motivated by her dislike of Dany. Think of that opening shot and opening line as a heading for the scene.

(44:55) We establish for sure here that Tyrion is afraid of Dany. The basis for this is Dany’s behaviour after the Loot Train Battle and Dany’s impatience to be getting on with taking King’s Landing. Note that Tyrion, while afraid of his abusive father, was not afraid of him because he pulled stunts like the Red Wedding. And while show!Tyrion hated Joffrey, unlike his book version he does not appear to have been afraid of Joffrey. So what makes Dany different?

If anyone can come up with a reason other than deeply ingrained narrative sexism…

(45:06) “The men in my family don’t do well in the capital,” Sansa says.

(45:58) It’s been [checks] eight minutes and forty-three seconds of screen time since Sansa learned the truth. A truth she swore not to reveal to anyone else. Here she makes the decision to tell someone else. Firstly, this plays real bad for Sansa herself, who broke a promise in a hot second in a scene that’s about How Much She Hates That Daenerys Woman. Secondly, this plays real bad for Jon, who trusted Sansa to do no such thing.

It’s been forty-two seconds since Sansa said she didn’t want Jon to go to King’s Landing, with the implication she believes he’ll be in danger if he does. This does not track with a motivation to protect him. It does, however, track with a motivation of wanting anyone but Dany in power.

I really don’t think the writers were trying to make the Starks look like assholes, which is why their success is so astounding.

Hey, you notice that they cut before we can see Tyrion’s reaction to this news, too?

(46:28) “I’m taking the Free Folk home. We’ve had enough of the south.” It sure is nice that this political faction doesn’t have to deal with things like the long-term material and cultural consequences of internal unification, being subject to essentially foreign authority of variable friendliness, mass migration, dispossession, things like that. Nope. Right back over the mostly-intact Wall. Nothing’s going to change for them. Just a warm southron vacay.

(46:57) Jon just fucking exiles his direwolf. Worst pet owner. Also themes, direwolves, etc.

(48:13) So Gilly’s pregnant. And Sam’s vows to take no wife and father no children have not been mentioned for an awfully long time. The showrunners masterfully resolved the central conflict of Sam’s season two, three, and four dilemmas in this relationship by ignoring it entirely.

(50:05) Here Tyrion tells Varys the big secret. In spite of the fact that he should bloody well realise that spreading the information about could destabilise Dany’s campaign for the throne and eventual rule. Good job, man. Good job. (There is also no reason to believe that Sansa knew that Tyrion would pass the information on to Varys.)

Plus additional depiction of Robert’s Rebellion as being because Robert couldn’t get over being rejected, rather than Aerys being a dangerous tyrant.

(50:41) “People are drawn to him,” Varys says of Jon, in a series where yes, we’ve seen people acclaiming Jon their leader, and precious little reason why they would do such a thing. ‘Failing upwards’ does seem to be the term. Note, however, that what Varys says equally applies to Daenerys. People drawn to her. War hero. But that doesn’t matter because Dany is a woman.

(51:08) Is marrying your aunt common in the North? Do we have time to go back to the history and lore material? And there is still no good reason this wasn’t brought up in season seven!

(51:23) Varys is very worried about Dany’s sanity. Based on…the fact she was impatient with Tyrion’s demonstrated-to-be-failing plan, the fact she didn’t enjoy the one party after one of her close friends died violently in her arms, and possibly secondhand reports of the Loot Train Battle.

This is incredibly hard to buy. I mean really. For seven seasons, Dany was a reasonable, rational individual whose cruelty was a) occasional, b) a reaction to the actions of others, and c) not out of line with what we saw from other characters, giving the impression that her behaviour as a ruler was not beyond her society’s tolerances. What made her stand out was the fact that she was freeing slaves and talking about “breaking the wheel.” That was outside her society’s tolerances. The instances of Dany’s cruelty, in the context of the series as a whole, do not appear enough to support a conclusion that mentally she’s on a downward slide.

Concern over how Dany’s handling her grief over Jorah might be more reasonable, but again, there’s no reason to think this is anything but grief and trauma. Which isn’t great, obviously, but nobody’s going “oh, she’s sad and going through a rough time,” they’re saying she’s going crazy. Just leapt right to the worst possible conclusion.

Meanwhile, on the meta level, let’s keep in mind that the narrative is using the fact that Dany wasaffected by grief and trauma as proof that she is demonstrably irrational and not fit to lead. This is textbook hysterical woman trope. Textbook.

(52:08) So for context, the dragons are approaching King’s Landing. From their height, they should have a good view of the bay.

(52:17) And yet Rhaegal gets sniped! Goodbye dragon #2! Well, given how he treated Ghost, perhaps it’s a good thing that Jon didn’t get another pet.

(52:42) Euron’s invisible fleet strikes again. Sure, we see them sailing out from behind a cliff, but the dragons had some serious height advantage, and there are a bunch of ships. Guess Dany kinda forgot about the Iron Fleet!

No, really. That’s the explanation the showrunners gave.

Even though in the moment it seems that Dany also forgot that she isn’t limited to seeing what the camera points at, and/or forgot to use her eyes. If the cliffs were high enough to hide the fleet, they should also have been too high for Euron to aim over. Not that his first two shots weren’t implausibly good either.

(53:18) And Dany does not fly around the fleet and flank them…why?

(54:02) So Euron’s invisible, memory-fogging fleet, which the showrunners have relied on way too heavily for diabolus ex machina, starts laying into Dany’s fleet. Because the showrunners seriously expected Dany to forget about the Iron Fleet. Dany has also forgotten she’s flying on a fire-breathing dragon. Don’t worry, she’ll remember when the plot says she’ll commit a bunch of war crimes.

(54:35) Again straining the limits of plausibility, Tyrion survives despite being knocked on the head by a falling mast. While in the water. In the middle of a battle. That’s one way to avoid depicting a battle that should not have happened.

(55:12) Missandei is established to be missing here.

(55:27) Cersei loses allies by the day. The smallfolk will surely turn on her. In this shot, people are pouring in through Cersei’s gates and seeking her protection. Not a riot in sight. Again, there’s no good reason why, but there we go!

(56:01) They’re not dropping Cersei’s pregnancy. This still raises questions as to how long it’s been, and she’s still not showing.

(56:30) “Keep the gates open. If she wants to take the castle, she’ll have to murder thousands of innocent people first.” That sounds to me like an argument for why Dany should be rather quick securing the capital – to prevent Cersei taking and using hostages! Note that this argument applies from season seven!

(56:44) It turns out that Missandei was captured. Yes. Euron not only managed to sneak invisibly up to Dany’s forces after they all forgot about his existence, kill a dragon with some seriously implausible sniping, escape unburned when Dany forgot to set Euron on fire, and trash her fleet utterly, he also bravely sailed in, discovered that Missandei was a hostage of significant emotional value to Dany, and captured her and her alone. What plot problems can Euron not solve.

More seriously, this is some shoddy treatment of one of the show’s only significant characters of colour. It’s going to get worse. Before we got to see Missandei’s face, we got a long shot of the chains she was put in (and a snide comment about it too).

(57:13) Varys says that storming the city is a mistake. I’m yet to hear workable alternatives. Dany’s advisors have been wrong about Cersei’s political and military strength every step of the way. Why should Dany listen to them, at this point?

However, Dany’s rejection of her advisors’ (proven-poor) advice is depicted as being born of emotion rather than reason.  See above re: hysterical women. We’ve got this dichotomy between emotional women and reasonable men. This is all the more noticeable in the context of Cersei’s rule. We’ve got two queens fighting for a throne at the moment, and both are apparently willing to kill any number of people for it. Currently the narrative’s saying that our sympathies should be with the reasonable men trying to rein in these unreasonable women.

(58:34) Tyrion advocates talking to Cersei. Again. This is a bad rerun of 7.07, and 7.07 wasn’t much good to start with. What reason does Tyrion have to believe that anything Cersei says can be relied on? None. He has, instead, every reason to believe that Cersei will lie if she needs to and reject every effort for a peaceful solution. He has every reason to believe this because she already has. And also hired someone to kill him. Which he found out just a few scenes ago.

I realise that Dany’s the one on the Hitler end of the Nazi analogies in episode six, but watch out for Neville Chamberlain here. Peace in our fucking time.

(59:15) “I’ve served tyrants all my life. They all talked about destiny.” Really? Did they? I can’t recall either Tywin or Joffrey or Robert talking much about destiny. Weird throwback to book!Varys, there.

(59:44) We see here that Varys measures fitness to rule in how often the ruler agrees with him. As soon as Dany turns down his advice, even though it was of dubious merit, he starts looking for a replacement. This is, again, the sort of thing that makes Dany’s supposed paranoia not look very irrational.

(1:00:04) “Have you considered the best ruler might be someone who doesn’t want to rule?” Why, yes! That question was considered extensively in the novels, in the person of Robert Baratheon! Back in the day, Robert was a fantasy hero. He had almost everything going for him. Almost every personal quality you could want in a king. But he didn’t want the throne. And nobody could make him do the job once he was on the throne. His disinterest and inertia had profound consequences on both his personal health and the running of the country.

Robert Baratheon is GRRM’s argument against that line.

(1:00:21) While there is plenty of sexism in the narrative, I don’t think Varys is incorrect to observe that in the patriarchal setting depicted, Jon’s gender will make him a more appealing monarch candidate.

(1:00:46) Varys: Jon would make a good king of Westeros.

Also Varys: We can’t marry Jon to Dany, her personality would overwhelm his!

Tyrion’s solution addresses the problem of Jon’s claim. Varys rejects that solution because it doesn’t address the problem of Dany. He does not want Dany to be the driving force ruling the kingdom. Also, apparently marriages where the woman is a Type A personality and the man’s a Type B personality are bad. Presumably the reverse is not true.

(1:03:44) Maybe three or four scenes this season where show!Sansa isn’t focused on hating Dany? Of course, my comments about Sansa being “toughened up” by having her come to enjoy violence against her enemies still apply.

(1:05:14) Now this reads like a fuck you to everyone who was at all invested in Jaime/Brienne as a ship. Brienne lays out the basic position – Jaime is a good man, he can’t save Cersei, and he doesn’t need to die with her. Sums up a good chunk of audience hopes, too. A lot of what drives the dramatic tension of Jaime’s scenes is the audience desire to see him actually follow through on his better impulses, including giving up on his toxic relationship with his sister. Not only is the audience not unreasonable for wanting this, the audience’s desire for this has been actively encouraged by the narrative for several seasons.

(1:05:39) In response, Jaime says, “nah, not a good man, just as bad as my sister, I’ll be leaving now, see ya!” As if scenes justifying Jaime’s actions-for-love never existed (just because I don’t think “I did it for love” is a good excuse doesn’t mean the show has thus far not treated it as a good excuse), Jaime lists a bunch of crimes, concludes he’s awful, and heads out. In hindsight, this is clearly Jaime rejecting any sort of different path. At the time there were theories going round that Jaime was heading off to the battle for some sort of personal resolution…but no.

So, you know, fuck the viewers for thinking someone could grow and change, I guess. A special fuck you to anyone who shipped Jaime/Brienne. They can go cry with the Arya/Gendry shippers. This is not just bad writing, it’s asshole writing. It gave the audience something to want, gave the audience what it wanted, yanked it away, and called the audience idiots for ever wanting it in the first place.

And it’s not even the worst example of asshole writing in the series. As we know.

(1:07:26) So here’s our setup. Dany, her advisors, a small group of Unsullied, and Drogon, are all hanging out on the clear stretch of ground in front of King’s Landing. Cersei’s up there and there are a whole bunch of ballistae pointed in their general direction, as well as a whole bunch of archers on the walls.

(1:09:13) Tyrion and Qyburn state the positions of their respective monarchs. (In the context of the series, especially with both Dany and Cersei being “mad” queens, it gives me the irrits that Dany and Cersei aren’t doing the talking – no, that’s for the men. See above regarding reasonable men reining in unreasonable women.) Note that these positions each demand the unconditional surrender of the other. I don’t think this is going to be resolved. I think this is well past the point where talking does much good.

This is one of the problems I have with the “reasonable” positions proposed by the men around Dany – they fail to recognise that they aren’t working against a reasonable opponent. These men aren’t reasonable in the sense that they considered the available evidence, alternative courses of action, and weighed up their options. The alternative proposed, and initially taken up by Dany, did not work. We saw it not work for most of season seven, and it continues to not work now. The “reasonable” option here doesn’t have anything to do with the situation established by the show. It’s “reasonable” in that it’s less outright violent in the short term, without accounting for long-term consequences or, you know, major strategic objectives. It treats negotiation and non-violence as inherently the most reasonable course of action, and therefore the best.

Again, this makes for a poor contrast with the books, where Dany’s storyline has talked about just these things. There are situations where people cannot solve their problems by talking. There are peaces that should not and cannot be made. Sometimes violence is necessary. The questions are when? and why?

(1:11:49) Note that when someone does actually bother speaking to one of the monarchs here directly, Tyrion doesn’t go for reason. He does not outline military consequences as he did for Qyburn. He goes for the emotional appeal.

It’s also worth noting: fucking again? This worked so well last time.

(1:12:07) Wait, so Jaime’s hateful for murdering his cousin and attempting to murder a child, but Cersei blows up the fucking Westerosi Vatican and she’s “not a monster”? Either the show’s being inconsistent here, or Tyrion is one of a) the greatest actors Westeros has ever seen or b) fooling himself. She hired someone to kill him out of personal spite! Tyrion found this out like half an hour of screen time ago!

I’m deeply suspicious of the show’s attempts to make Cersei somewhat sympathetic at this late stage. It looks a lot to me as if this is intended to make the demonisation of Dany easier. Cersei does not do much this season. She didn’t do much last season. Continuing on from what I just said about reasonable uses of violence, we’re not actually seeing much violence these past two seasons from Cersei which would make Dany’s own use of violence reasonable and appropriate. (No, they still can’t resolve their issues by talking, Cersei’s broken deals with them before.) Cersei’s tyranny is kept out of sight and out of mind for the audience, including most if not all references to that time she blew up the Sept of Baelor, so Dany appears inherently less justified in her actions.

The only thing Cersei does this season, which she’s about to do, is in direct service of “setting Dany off” mentally.

(1:12:57) Also, Cersei’s pregnancy being used to humanise her? Yikes. In context of ongoing comparison over “who’s the worst monster?” to Dany, who is infertile? Mega yikes. These characters should not be judged by what’s going on in their uteruses.

(1:13:45) Finally! A queen speaks! After six minutes of “negotiations”.

(1:14:14) “Dracarys”? Well, that’s ambiguous. Scans an awful lot like Missandei’s saying “yeah, burn the city!”

(1:14:44) So this is awful. The show has two recurring characters of colour. It just killed one. A freed slave, killed in chains, with nasty comments made about this fact, to motivate a white character whose arc has already had fair accusations of white savourism levelled against it. Not good. Not good at all.

(1:15:20) Incidentally, I can’t help but notice that Cersei stopped at killing Missandei. She’s kinda forgotten about her archers and ballistae and that she doesn’t care for norms such as truce.

(1:15:40) Dany walks away with an actual expression on her face. Her inability to school her features after witnessing the murder of a friend is how we know, for sure, that she’s losing it. If she’s calm, she’s emotionally dead. If she’s sad, she’s hysterical. If she’s angry, she’s about to kill hundreds of thousands of people…

#anti got #fine toothed comb edition #cw: violence #cw: rape mention #season eight #in which i call a lot of people assholes

[ks-caster]

The Future is Infinite (Chapter 4)

Chapter-specific warnings: smoking, cannibalism mention, PTSD flashback

Start || Previous

Showered and dressed in a pair of comfortable black pants and a sleeveless shirt with a loose, floppy collar, Octavia emerged from the room when the hands of the clock pointed at a quarter to seven. The king had invited everyone to have dinner with him, and the soup from that afternoon was feeling like she’d eaten it back at home a hundred years ago. 

When she arrived, the room was filling up quickly. She lingered in the doorway, watching Tony converse with a black man whose name she didn’t know; Steve entered from a different doorway and approached them, looking almost hesitant. Based on Bucky’s description and her own assessment, this was… unusual behavior for Steve.

“What’s the story with those two?” She asked quietly as she sensed Bucky coming up behind her.

“Uh,” he hedged, clearly uncomfortable.

“Come on, you people know all of my dirty secrets,” she hissed without any real venom. She supposed she was used to people telling her stories without her there to comment. She couldn’t let it hurt anymore - if she did she’d be consumed by it.

“Okay,” Bucky agreed slowly, “Well, seventy-some years ago, I got captured by a group called HYDRA. They tortured and brainwashed me to work for them.” He was clearly struggling to tell only the facts, and no more, and Octavia already regretted asking, but figured she should trust him to know his own limits and/or tell her to go fuck herself and end the conversation if he needed to. “I was an assassin for them on and off for half a century after they finished modifying me. One of my targets was Stark’s parents. 

“I’m okay now,” he rushed to assure her, though she knew her own expression hadn’t changed. Must be a habit, she thought, remembering how quick Lincoln had been to reassure people of the same thing after he detoxed from his Reaper state. “Shuri and her science team were able to purge all the programming from my head, so I don’t do that anymore. I’m safe to be around people and everything. But when Stark found out I killed his mother, he wanted revenge,” he shrugged, as though agreeing that that was the natural reaction. “Steve defended me.”

“Huh,” Octavia mused. “Guess that would put some strain on a working relationship.”

“Just a bit,” Bucky agreed, his eyebrows twitching up once in acknowledgement of the sarcasm and understatement between them.

“Your name’s Peter, right?” Octavia added, glancing up as the feeling of being watched prickled down the back of her neck. The kid silently crawling his way across the ceiling paused and jumped guiltily to the floor.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his head nervously as he walked backwards into the room. “You sounded like you were talking about something serious so I didn’t want to just walk between you.” Looking up at the sound of the kid’s voice, Tony and Steve caught sight of them, Steve waving and smiling, and Tony’s face going hard. He stood abruptly and moved to sit at another table. Octavia felt Bucky’s shoulder slump beside her. 

“Uh, I gotta… go,” Peter said awkwardly before heading towards where Tony had relocated. 

“You clean up nicely,” a vaguely familiar girl’s voice commented as they reached Steve’s table. Octavia turned to see a teen girl dressed in vivid shades of orange approaching them from where T’Challa was sitting with the man in the scale armor. He’d left his ax in a corner of the room, she noted, wondering if she was expected to remove her dagger, which she’d slipped into a long, narrow pocket down her thigh. She supposed someone would tell her if she’d broken a social norm.

“Well, it was my first shower in over a hundred years,” she shrugged, noticing the similarities between the girl and the king and figuring she was most likely a relative. “I should hope there’d be some difference.” She took a drink of something that Steve poured for her out of a jug. It was some kind of fruit juice. The princess’s voice had been the one to say that her cells were mutating, she remembered distantly as the girl casually side-hugged Bucky.

“Princess Shuri, Octavia,” he introduced them, squeezing the girl back before letting go. 

“So, you’re the one Strange thinks is the key to saving the universe,” Shuri commented, hooking her foot around a chair from the table opposite and pulling it over so she could sit down close to all three of them.

“Not so sure about that,” Octavia grumbled, taking another long swig of the juice. “I didn’t exactly do such a great job the last time the fate of the human race fell into my lap.” She deliberately refused to think about those days. It was over a century ago, although it didn’t feel like it. 

And it had all been pointless, she supposed, now that they knew that they were far, far from being the only life left in the universe.

“Hey, someone said something about my people and yours sharing an evolutionary ancestor,” she commented suddenly, wanting to change the subject. “And you call yourselves humans too, right? What’s with that?”

“Oh, right!” Shuri exclaimed. “So, there’s this old, old story on earth - about a flood that destroyed all life on the planet, and a few survivors on a vessel that carried them until the destruction ended. It’s called Noah’s Ark.” Octavia frowned in confusion.

“We have a story like that too,” she recalled, “But the captain’s name was Abijah.” She vaguely remembered Bellamy talking about the old myth - and the way the Ark had been named after that ship.

“Exactly!” Shuri exclaimed. “Thor was telling me all about it. A long long time ago, humans lived on a planet called Earth. But there was this huge disaster and the planet was destroyed. They had some warning, and their interstellar neighbors helped them build escape vessels, and sent them off to other planets nearby which, with a little scientific help here and there from Asgard and their allies, could be made to support life. 

“The planet we’re on now is called Terra, galactically speaking. The one you’re from is called Phyra. But most of the human refugees referred to their planets by the names their cultures called the original Earth, and a lot of them have parallel development and histories. Only apparently the people on your planet evolved faster than we did - Thor said that the conditions there were much harsher, so maybe that’s why.”

Octavia refilled her cup and drank again. Had her mom known, she wondered, that there was a glimmer of truth to the mythologies she’d delighted in telling her children?

And if there was so much truth to them, why had no one rushed to their aid when the planet was destroyed three times in a hundred years?

“Wait, she’s from Phyra?” The another voice asked incredulously. Octavia turned to see… a racoon? An actual racoon, sitting on the table from which Shuri had stolen the chair, munching on an appetizer of some sort. “Thought all life was wiped off of that godforsaken rock two hundred years ago by some kind of planet-wide nuclear disaster. They use it as a cautionary tale whenever I try to use nuclear power in any of my awesome custom-made weapons!”

“Well, we’re a stubborn bunch,” Octavia responded, not sure what to think of a talking racoon with custom-made nuclear weapons. His tablemates were the blue woman who’d seemed to know Thanos personally, a… tree? Well, a sapling. With a face. Playing some kind of electronic game. And a shirtless man with grey-ish skin, who was covered in some kind of raised red tattoos.

“Do all racoons talk on this planet?” she checked with Shuri, ignoring the creature’s angry outburst that people needed to quit calling him a racoon.

“No, just that one,” the girl giggled. “Rocket talks, shoots people, and steals prosthetics.”

“Oh, so that was normal back there,” Bucky muttered, rubbing at his metal shoulder. Octavia wanted to ask about his arm - for a prosthetic it sure moved like a natural limb - but the red-and-grey man was talking about how in his planet the racoon was something called a lierjhg, and how tasty they were when roasted over a campfire, and Rocket was even more indignant at the thought that he might be considered edible, and Octavia could taste blood on her tongue, not hers, oh how she wished it was hers instead...

“Hey,” Steve was saying quietly, his hand warm and stable on her bare arm. “Too much too fast?” Octavia blinked hard, relieved that she hadn’t teared up and wondering how long she’d been frozen like that.

She wasn’t hungry anymore.

-0-

The bath was every bit as luxurious as Octavia had expected. She took a deep breath, laying back along the bottom, her body bobbing gently in the hot water, only her toes gently bumping against the side reminding her that she was in a small tub and not an open stream. 

She hadn’t asked why her earth had been abandoned by its interplanetary neighbors - she decided she really didn’t want to know. After being an outcast for being a second child, then being rejected by the Arcadians for being too grounder-like; after losing what little home she’d made for herself again and again and again, always “for the greater good,” she didn’t want to hear one more time about how circumstances had forced the powers that be to make a decision, and she hadn’t made the cut. 

She knew what it was like to be on both ends of those choices, and that there was no good answer. So she left it alone, forcing herself to nibble a few things for a while and make light conversation with Steve and Bucky and Shuri before excusing herself. Strange had told Wong that she had PTSD. Had he said that to the others? She didn’t know if she agreed with him - anyone would have trouble processing the things she’d had to do; why slap a disorder on it? Besides, if anything, she was the traumatic event… 

She stayed in the water until it started to feel cold, then dried herself off, pulling on a long, soft robe she’d found hanging on the back of the door. She wasn’t ready to sleep yet. She’d been unconscious today, and before that had slept a hundred and seven years. That was probably plenty to be getting on with. She pulled the book out of her bag and curled up on the balcony with it, leaning against the railing so she could see the lights and hear the faint sounds of the city below as she read. 

It was the sort of book she’d have loved as a child - magic and mystery and a clear divide between bad guys and good. She wondered why her mother had never read it to her - but maybe the ship’s library didn’t have it. She supposed it was silly to assume that the computer archives would have successfully saved every book ever written.

“Trouble sleeping?” Steve asked, and she looked up to see him on the next balcony over, leaning on the railing and gazing out at the city below, a tiny white roll of paper clamped between his fingers.

“I think I’ve slept enough for a few lifetimes,” she responded dryly, marking her place by carefully folding the corner of a page and standing up.

“See, when I tell people that they give me shit about my health,” Steve said, folding his arms and grinning.

“And you wouldn’t dream of subjecting me to the same, of course,” Octavia suggested, eyebrow raised.

“Of course not,” he responded conspiratorially. He took a step to the side to lean his hip against the railing, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and setting the end of what she finally recognized as a cigarette on fire. “What have I interrupted you reading?”

“The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, by C.S. Lewis,” she responded, showing him the cover.

“Oh, I love that one!” he exclaimed. “Natasha recommended it to me a little while after I was defrosted.”

“No spoilers!” Octavia warned playfully. “They’ve just evacuated the Beaver dam.” Steve raised his hands in mock-surrender. 

“You’re gonna love the ending,” he snorted.

“I said no spoilers! Don’t make me come over there and shut you up,” she growled.

They talked a while longer - Steve talking about what it was like to wake up in the 21st Century after so long away, and telling stories about his and Bucky’s childhood in the 40s. Octavia responded with a few carefully curated vignets of some of her happier moments on the Earth. Phyra. Whatever. Eventually her eyes started to prickle and she yawned.

“It’s after three am,” Steve commented, looking at his watch in surprise. “Think it’s time for me to give sleep another try.” Octavia nodded agreement, and headed back into her room.

The bed was deliciously soft and comfortable - easily the nicest one she’d ever been in. But after about thirty minutes of fruitless tossing and turning, she had to admit that the softness made her feel like she was constantly falling, which in turn made already-elusive sleep impossible to obtain. With a sigh, she got up, pulling the thick fluffy comforter and a couple of pillows off the bed, and made herself a nest on the floor, right in the balcony doorway. With solid ground beneath her and fresh air moving over her face, she was finally able to drift off to sleep. 

Her last thought - which, in the manner of half-asleep musings, she would forget entirely upon waking - was how strange it was that two entirely separate planets, parallel development or no, would somehow generate the exact same book by an author of the exact same name. 

After all, her copy had come from the Eligius ship, and Steve had lived his whole life on Terra.

To Be Continued... 

This chapter is dedicated to @just-ash1 - I didn’t expect people to actually read this and enjoy it since crossovers can be iffy, so thanks for making my day!

#the 100 #the avengers #crossover #the 100 x the avengers #TFI Fic #Beth's Writing #fanfiction #the 100 fanfiction #the avengers fanfiction #octavia blake #steve rogers #bucky barnes #peter parker #tony stark #nebula #mental health #tws abound #specific warnings at the beginnings of chapters #but Octavia's headspace is Not Good right now and that's kind of the point of the fic #canon-typical violence #canon-typical gore #wong #shuri #rocket

[jawnjendes]

shawn meets... | ann (again)

SUMMARY: in the life of a rockstar, shawn mendes comes across some unique people. sometimes, things stray from the norm.

AN: this is the last chapter of this series. i’m reviving goth gf.

previous chapter

ann’s origin story | ann’s playlist | masterlist

Ann looked very different than she did at the awards show. Shawn almost didn’t recognize her as he watched the live camera footage at his front door through. There was no longer a short black bob, instead it was long, dark hair with red streaks. There was also the all black get up that reminded him of Ann in college. She was different, but not.

He pressed the speaker button. “Ann?”

She jumped at the sound. “Uh… yeah? Annalise Flores, LMHC, LMFT, uh… MD? Shit, what else do you want?”

“Mm, do a dance,” he requested.

“Fuck off.”

Same old Ann. With a grin, Shawn went over to the door and opened it. There stood Ann, decked out in a black jacket, leggings, and platforms. Her style hadn't changed all that much when she wasn't working. Shawn let her in, watching her move. Just something about Ann made everything feel familiar but foreign at the same time.

"Well… this isn't the Toronto apartment," she said, looking around at the massive open space, the open windows and chandeliers. "How many homes do you have now?"

"What, just because I'm famous now, you think I have a bunch of houses?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips.

Ann raised an eyebrow, and he gave in.

"Five. Two in Canada, two in the States, and one in London."

"I fucking knew it," Ann said, grinning. "You've really made a life for yourself, huh?"

Shawn was humble and waved it off. Then he led her to the island in the kitchen, sitting her down on one of the stools. "Anything to drink?"

"Water, please?"

After getting her a glass, Shawn took the stool next to her. He watched her face, trying to detect any hint of… well, anything. But trying to read Annalise Flores's general energy was never an easy task. Maybe she really was a vampire.

The thought alone sent a weird pit down Shawn's stomach. He decided to fill the silence.

"So, where to begin?" he said.

"Do I really need to ask what you've been up to?" she replied.

"Nah, I wanna hear about you. Catch me up on the whole six years."

She chuckled and set down the glass on the counter. "Nothing truly exciting. Work, school… more school."

"You're a therapist now. When did that happen?"

"A few months ago," Ann said. "I worked at a few practices here in LA while I completed my Master's. I recently got an office, so now I can have in-person sessions. I'm just building my clientele, and debating whether or not I wanna go for a PhD."

"That's awesome." Shawn couldn't help but grin at those pieces of information. He knew how hard Ann worked when they were in college, and she was playing it off like it was no big deal. But she made her dreams come true. "So, Bella is one of your clients? Any other names I might know?"

Ann shook her head. "That's confidential."

Now it was Shawn's turn to give her a look, but she didn't budge.

"I'm serious! Unless the client mentions me or signs a consent form, I legally cannot disclose that."

Well there go all the cool stories that could have been shared. However, Shawn did not run out of things to talk about.

"I saw you in a video," he said, a knowing grin on his face. "Spending the day with goths?"

The two of them looked at each other. Ann's eyes widened a little bit, clearly didn't see that coming.

"I lost a bet," she started, and Shawn laughed. "Seriously! A friend of mine saw Anthony Padilla's post on YouTube, and then we bet on a soccer game, and the forfeit was for me to email about the ad. Somehow, I got in and… I actually really enjoyed the interview."

"It was so crazy to see you out there in cyberspace," Shawn said. "After, I don't know, four or five years? It's like the only thing that changed about you was your hair. Speaking of which… hair?"

Ann sighed, playing with the ends of her colorful locks. "One: privacy. Bella wanted me onstage with her and I had to be working. My social media has blown up a little bit with her followers, and I've been getting a lot of client applications. Two: I have to look professional, yet casual for work, and I did not want to cut my hair or give up fun colors."

"So you bought a wig?"

"I bought a wig."

It was amusing, but it also made so much sense. Ann was always private, and the chance of being recognized in public now that she was linked to a wildly famous YouTuber must have been off putting. Shawn could only imagine the amount of traffic going through Ann's office as well.

"Oh, and I owe you an explanation for the other night," she added.

Shawn tilted his head. "Huh?"

"I was impatient and snappy. I shouldn't have been like that because it's you. Being a shrink can get exhausting, on top of the event we were at. So I apologize."

It's you.

"Oh, don't even worry about it." Shawn waved it off. Then, as a passing thought, "Could you be my therapist?"

Ann breathed out a laugh, looking down at her lap. "If we didn't have the history we do, maybe…"

Perfect segue.

"Can we talk about that history?" he asked.

"What is there to talk about?" Ann asked in response.

It was an odd thing to say, for a therapist. She had to know how much there was to unpack regarding the break up. Maybe she just wasn't thinking about the past the way Shawn did. Ann was the one to end things after all.

"I just missed you for a while, that's all," Shawn admitted.

Ann raised her dark eyebrows. "For six years?"

"Well, you were the first person I fell in love with. I've dated people since then, but everyone has a permanent soft spot for their firsts." He felt a little put down. It only confirmed how confident Ann had been in ending the relationship.

She was looking at him as she played with the ends of her hair. Her expression was unreadable. "You're saying that while you were out in the world making your dreams come true and being pulled in every direction to meet the demands of that life… you found time to miss me? And time to be sad that we were broken up?"

Shawn took a moment to process that. Then, he admitted, "I cried a lot at every hotel I stayed at. The first few months on the tour bus were hard, because the nightmares came back for a little bit." He also wrote a track that was on his first album, but that was something else entirely.

"That's very impressive." Ann shifted in her seat. "I have quite a few clients in the same industry. Plenty of them are spread so thin that they don't have time to healthily process anything that might be going on in their personal lives. I have clients that are grieving things that happened years ago. But you? It looks as though you timed your grief."

"I didn't intend to," Shawn said, rubbing his neck. He wasn’t expecting this kind of response. Maybe he was talking to Ann the therapist as opposed to Ann the ex-girlfriend. "It just happened when it happened. I learned that I can't put my all into everything when bad things happen. Worse things happened that made me take some time off altogether."

"Things like what?"

A look of surprise appeared on Shawn's face for a moment. The death of Brian wasn't exactly a secret, but it seemed to only reach the corners of Shawn's online fanbase. While it has been a year since the sad event, it was still hard for Shawn to be the one to break the news.

"We're talking about us," he told Ann. "Did you even miss me?"

She sighed. "A month after you left college, I heard you on the radio. Everywhere, all the time. People on campus asked me about you, thinking we were still together. You did a fucking Calvin Klein shoot like, six months after we broke up. Do the math."

Every word gave Shawn an ounce of relief. He smirked a little bit at the last statement.

Ann went on. "It was like karma. I broke up with you, and then the universe put you everywhere to remind me of my decision, asking me if I regret it."

There was a pause. But Shawn had to know. "Do you regret it?"

"No."

______

taglist: @someoneunimportantxx @shawnsunflower @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @chillingbythesea @iloveshawnieboi

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #shawn x oc #shawn meets fic #no one will read this and then the next series will be confusing oh well #im writing for me at this point alkhdglkf

[hilllsnholland]

Bucket List - (3)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Deaf!Reader

Wc: 3.5k 

Warnings: mentioning of depression and suicide 

Summary: Car lights are not good for signing 

A/N: Yes Bucket List is finally coming back!!! I’ve actually been working on this all summer but never posted it because people didn’t seem interested in it. BUT I don’t care anymore. I love this fic more than anything and it means so much to me so if you’re here to read it then I hope you enjoy :) 

Brant slammed the ice cream machine off while whistling to himself a song that Tom did not recognize. He always had a song on his mind, singing or humming at all hours of the day. Even at one of the football games Tom attended he heard Brant singing to himself. And like most days, Tom was fucking sick of it.

Tom’s eyes were burning from the long day in the sun and scanning the bucket list Y/N had handed him. Not to mention the lack of appropriate sleep Tom was getting, he was a wreck. The sun was setting though, meaning that their shift was over and Tom could retreat back into his house for the night. He could plan out what to say and do with Y/N, and figuring out what he wanted to do for his own bucket list.

“You wanna kick back at my place tonight?” Brant dangled his keys from his finger, showing off the BMW symbol.

“Not tonight,” Tom threw his badge onto the back desk. “Haz and I are going to do stuff tonight,”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you two are fucking,”

Tom faked a laugh, rolling his eyes at the immature joke.

“Not my type, mate,”

Brant said something unintelligible and left out the backdoor leaving Tom to finish closing. Thankfully Milky was a small place, cleaning took maybe twenty minutes tops, and Tom had been keeping up with chores for the whole day. After some last-minute sweeping and soaking, Tom locked the store and went out to his car, throwing the bucket list onto the dash.

Everyone had a bucket list, that was obvious. Most people had things like, ‘go to Disneyland’ or ‘visit the Grand Canyon’ and even ‘climb Mt. Everest’. These adventures scaled from tangible to daydreams. Yet, reading Y/N’s was different. It was a look inside of her mind, a puzzle of sorts of what she wanted. It was an amalgamation of things she wanted and loved, so Tom should do the same. He racked his brain for the entire drive over to his house of things he wanted. His seemed so insignificant to the grand scale that Y/N had shown him. Tom wanted this summer to be legendary, like all young people do. But to write it down and not make it cheesy, that was the ultimate battle.

Yet, the only quests he could think of were basic and ordinary. It had dawned on Tom that maybe he was boring. That would explain why he couldn’t pick a major, or why he only had one friend he truly trusted. Maybe his whole life was just that. A simple, non-important stream in a universe of many others. It was days like this Tom wished to turn his brain off. Maybe he should study philosophy because all he did was dread the unknown and unimportance. That doesn’t pay bills though.

Tom turned into the driveway of his rented home, almost unaware that he arrived there. He sat in a trance, staring at the bucket list over and over again. Why did this paper have so much power over him? It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. But Y/N had made out to be some sign from God. That was the thing about California, the girls were crazier than back in London.

“Mate, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Harrison’s voice spooked Tom from his daydream.

“No, but I did spend six hours in hell with Brant,”

Harrison shudders dramatically while Tom slides out of the car holding back a laugh. The two enter the home where Tom can tell Harrison had been cooking because the batteries are out of the fire alarm and there’s an aroma of burnt batter. There’s colorful frosting smashed into the granite countertops with glitter sprinkles everywhere.

“Uh ...did a unicorn explode in here or?”

“LJ needed cupcakes for a sorority summer fling,” Harrison starts to wipe the stained counters with a wet rag while he tries to hide his embarrassment. “Moving on, what’s that paper in your hand?”

“What paper?”

Tom slides the list into his pocket as he nonchalantly strides to the fridge and grabs a beer. Harrison folds his arms over his chest and leans into his back leg, staring at Tom like he’s a child who broke something. Maybe Brant was right. They do act like a couple sometimes. Tom rolls his eyes and throws the list onto the island counter. Harrison reads it while mouthing the words like a child learning to read.

“So...a bucket list?”

“Y/N’s bucket list,” Tom prodes the paper with his finger. “She came to Milky with her friend from the party. We talked...and she was all mysterious you know? And she gave me this list and told me to read it.”

Harrison nodded slowly and tried to put on a supportive front for his best friend, but honestly he was sure Tom lost his marbles.

“Is this like some treasure hunt for her hand in marriage or something?”

“No you div!” Tom takes the paper back in frustration. “I don’t...I just...I don’t know Haz. She makes me happy. And this list makes her happy, so ergo, I need to make a bucket list too,”

Tom had never felt this way before. He was logical of course, but fuck this was driving him to hallucinations. Something about Y/N made him go crazy with the need to find himself. Maybe it was her whimsical being, or the fact she was so confident with herself, but it made Tom want to pursue this more.

“Tom, are you sure this doesn’t have to do with school-”

“Haz, we’re not talking-”

“Your parents called me. They said you haven’t returned any of their calls. They want to figure out their plans when they come to visit and they’re worried about you. Tom, why won’t you tell them the truth? Or me? What are you ashamed of?”

It felt like a sour ball was stuck at the base of Tom’s throat. He wanted to throw up, cry, and scream in the same breath. For a while, he’d been sending his parents calls to voicemail. Then the twins. Even Paddy he barely messaged back. But it hurt Tom too much to talk to them. He couldn’t face them without feeling like a complete failure. Now his own best friend was looking at him like he was a child. Always, Tom felt like a child in a world of people who had their shit together.

“I’m not talking about this-”

“You fucking have to! Are you depressed? Suicidal? Why are you drinking so much Tom? Seriously, what is your deal and why won’t you talk to us?”

Tom looks at the unopen bottle of beer in his hand. Maybe he did come home and drink more often now. Maybe he did stay secluded to his room and not talk as much. But he didn’t want to die and he didn’t need beer to live. It just filled him with something other than anxiety. Or maybe it was a feeling of being lost? Tom was a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of what was actually going on in his own head, except for wanting to see Y/N.

“Here, I don’t want it,” Tom slides the bottle across the kitchen counter to Harrisons.

“Stop avoiding me Tom,” Harrison warns. “Stop using that girl as an excuse to fuck off. If you need help or a friend, I’m here. You don’t need to chase her around like she’s the most amazing thing on this planet,”

“Maybe she is,”

“Well, you don’t fucking know that because you don’t fucking know her!”

Harrison had yelled so loud that even he was shocked. He never raised his voice, Tom had only known a handful of times that he has and it was all at parties or during a bar rumble with drunken dicks. Both men stood in the kitchen staring at each other, waiting for the other to make a move, but it didn’t happen. Both felt the anger of Harrison’s words and that was all Tom needed.

“I’m...gonna go for a drive,” Tom said flatly.

“Tom…”

“No, we just need to cool off.”

Married couple indeed. Tom grabbed his keys again and walks out the door without looking back at his best friend. He didn’t know where he was driving, but he knew for sure he needed at least an hour to calm down before facing his friend. That was the problem with Harrison, he was always so emotional and took everything to heart. Nothing could be grey, it always had to be black or white. Harrison had always pushed Tom to make a decision, ‘now, now, now’. It always had to be now.

Tom takes a right turn through the residential, turning the radio down so it was softly playing a Lewis Capaldi song. He scanned the neighborhood for any kids playing late night hide and seek. With the city-wide curfew, the kids had to be smart with how they would have their nightly adventures. Tom watched a few kids dive behind a bush as he slowly rode down the street, his mind consumed with words that didn’t connect.

It was a lot of angry words, a string of consciousness of things that Tom couldn’t shake. There were too many things happening at once and he didn’t know how to handle it all. Fuck, it was a never-ending cycle of thoughts. To turn his brain off would be a miracle, just for a day to know things were exactly where they needed to be.

Tom blinks himself out of frustration to find himself turning down Mainstreet. It was frightening how far he could go without realizing it. The subconscious can do amazing things really. Tom huffs, trying to take in the beautiful scenery of the hanging lights down the rustic buildings. The college kids stumbling from parties or the dive bar at the end of the street. Older couple racing to their cars from their expensive dinners. Creekview never faltered from this. Any night of the week it would be the same old thing.

Except for pink. There it was again. Now racing down the street in a snug ponytail. Tom catches Y/N’s figure as she runs through Mainstreet in athleisure attire. Would it be too creepy to pull up? To ask if she needs a running buddy or a ride? Tom slows the car down as she comes to the crosswalk. Y/N runs past, looking at his bright headlights and then stops. A smirk appears on her lips while her eyes squint at the blinding light. She continues her spring up to the side of the car.

“Hello, stalker,” She greets.

“This is definitely a coincidence,”

Y/N pulls on the handle of the car to try to open it. Was she really trying to catch a ride? Tom unlocks the door and Y/N hops in, clicking the roof light on so she can watch Tom talk.

“Yeah just finding me right after dark and picking me up so no one will ever see me again,”

“I never invited you in. You’re trespassing,”

Y/N laughs, nodding in agreement. She signs something which Tom’s guesses means ‘true’ and then unties her hair. It was faded now, returning to the original color. The remains were a pastel pink, kinda like the sky. It was soft, wavy from being put up for the run. Y/N turns the radio up and places her hand on the speaker, humming along to the bass.

“Is this Bay Area music?”

“Yeah, I leave it on because the other channels are Spanish or Country,”

“Interesting,” Y/N raises an eyebrow as Tom tries to think of a non-sketchy route to take. “So, the list,”

That was why she entered the car. To test him to see if he actually read the note or made any attempt to decode it. She analyzed him, looking for any trace of confusion or understanding. Tom reaches into his pocket and throws it back to her.

“I like it a lot. I want to add to it,”

“Good, I was hoping you would,” Y/N smiles at him. “Go to the Bridge,”

“The Bridge?”

“I thought I was the Deaf one. Yes, the Bridge by Canary Street.”

Tom motions a yes and takes the side street down to head towards the Bridge. The Bridge was an old road that barely anyone took anymore. Now there were freeways that connected Creekview to everything, while the Bridge became a site for teens to fuck in their car or people to hide out. There are even ghost stories about a woman in white haunting the area. Tom had only been there twice before with Brant and Ty so they could drink. It was isolated and dark, probably not the best location to get to know Y/N but it was a start.

“Why were you out on a run this late?” Tom asks.

Y/N watches his lips move and shrugs.

“I got into a fight with my parents so I went on a run. Creekview is usually fine after dark.” Y/N states as she runs her finger down the gear panel. “Why were you driving around?”

“Got into a fight with Harrison,”

“Is that your friend from the party?” Y/N motions to her hair. “The blond? Crazy blue eyes and eye-fucking Lauren J all night?”

“That’s the one,” Tom laughs.

He turns into the abandoned Bridge site, parking off the side of the road and putting the car in park. He triple checks the doors are locked and turns to Y/N. She’s looking over the list again and holding out her hand.

“Pen?”

Tom scrambles in the center console for a pen, knowing Harrison always stashed them away because he could never remember one. Tom pulls out a blue pen and hands it to Y/N and she instantly starts writing Tom’s name under her list.

“So fate has brought us together much faster than I thought,” Y/N stifles a laugh. “This summer, Tom….”

“Holland,”

“Tom Holland, I want you to join me in making this summer our very best. We complete everything on our To-Do list without a single fuck about anyone else or anything else. We have until August 2nd, if you choose to take on this task,”

Y/N raises her pinky finger up, her face in the most breathtakingly beautiful smile he’s ever seen. She exudes confidence. She is the grace that Tom has always wanted. He bites his lip and connects pinkies with her.

“I accept this, under one condition,” She quirks at him. “You teach me sign language and everything about Deaf…”

“Culture?”

Tom nods.

“I would love to,”

Y/N’s cheeks perked into a darker color as she pursued her lips together in a poor attempt to hide her smile. They disconnect pinkies and Y/N holds the pen to write, her eyes hover over Tom expectantly.

“So, what is your bucket list?”

Tom swallowed hard. Hours of thought was put into this exact moment but he couldn’t think of a thing. His mind was consumed with wants that were juvenile compared to Y/N’s. Or what he thought would be unsatisfactory.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day and I can’t think of anything as cool as yours,” Tom shrugs. “I don’t want you to waste your summer with dumb things,”

“Tom, I have 'getting into a fistfight' on my bucket list. Nothing is stupid.” Y/N bops the pen on the tip of Tom’s nose. “You overthink too much. Just live, you know? Whatever is your wildest dream we’ll do it. Or something small that you’ve always wanted to do. Stop imaging this inconceivable life and start enjoying the one you can have,”

It felt like he was smacked in the face. Y/N’s words made more sense to him than anything Harrison or his parents had ever said to him. Although it was an echo chamber, Tom believed Y/N more. Whether it was her amazing charisma or the fact his brain was controlled by his dick, he listened to her.

“I want to get kicked out of a diner,”

“What?”

“Kicked out of a diner,” He said again a little louder. “In Pulp Fiction the cops get held up in a diner and then Samuel L. Jackson’s character talks the robbers out of shooting everyone and then him and Travalto leave the diner, guns tucked into their belts, and they look really cool,”

“So what does that have to do with getting kicked out of a diner?” Y/N laughed, following along as best as she could.

“Well I don’t want an actual diner to get robbed so I think best-case scenario would be to get kicked out and leave all cool like they did. Minus the guns. It doesn’t make any sense but it will if it happens.”

Y/N looks at him cluelessly, trying to follow the mangle of words that spilled out of his mouth in an embarrassing fluster. Tom bites his tongue and takes the paper out of her hand, scribbling down the other items on his bucket list. Tom leaned over the middle console and opened his dry mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry,” He looks up so she can see his mouth. “I don’t know how to...be better? I don’t want you to feel lost or confused,”

“That’s my entire life,” Y/N dryly chuckles and shrugs. “We’ll meet each other in the middle. You sign and I talk,”

Tom could smell the peach shampoo in her hair as she moved closer to his face. The dim light in the car was not ideal, but the shadows played tricks on Y/N’s face. Tom saw the darkness emphasize her full cheeks and the curve of her lip as she forced a smile. Her eyes were dark as they met his.

“I want to sign, not talk,” Tom stated. “I really like the way you and Tejas talk...sign...uh you know what I mean. I love the way your hands move when you sign my name and how…”

Tom paused, looking to her hand that was gripping the leather of the center console to settle her nerves. She was nervous, just like him. Y/N hid it well. She looked down at her hands and flushed, looking back to Tom and swallowing hard. Their faces were so close, just like the party, and Tom missed the way her lips felt. He almost forgot how that kiss felt, almost. He remembered the silk of her lips and his heart exploding out of his chest. Tom remembered wanting to kiss her again and again. Yet, he also remembered the insane guilt that buried him alive after realizing she was just trying to read to his lips.

Y/N seemingly moves in closer but stops before meeting his lips. Both hold their breaths, scared of who will make the next move. Tom flinched forward, so close to grasping the euphoric taste of her lips, but retreats back. He didn’t want to make the same mistake. He doesn’t want to push it too far so he sits back into the drivers chair and finishes the last item on the list. Y/N stares at him in surprise. She’s quiet, watching him etch the last letter into the page.

“Here,”

Y/N looks over the paper, making a confirming ‘hmph’ noise as she reads the last four items.

“Hike through the hills of Creekview?”

“I’ve never been,” Tom shrugs.

“Crowdsurf?”

“Looks fun,”

Y/N laughs at the fourth one.

“Set something on fire? Pyromaniac much?”

“Nothing too big and not a firepit. Think ...artistic.” Tom explains.

“I’m starting to think you’re a psychopath,”

Y/N quips and gains an easy laugh from Tom. He decided on adventures that were close to his heart but also possible. In the time he’d live in Creekview he’d never been near the popular hiking trails, and it would also go great with Y/N’s first item, swimming in Creek Lake. Crowd surfing was something that is one everyone’s bucket list. Simple. Y/N looks at the last item and pauses, looking Tom straight in the eye.

“...deciding your future,” Y/N says. “What does that mean?”

The most important one of all. The one that Tom had bookmarked in his subconscious for this list. Through these adventures, he’d hope to find his meaning or what Y/N called her purpose. Most importantly, Tom wanted to find his passion and he believed Y/N would be the right person to help.

“I guess we’ll figure that out together,”

Tom extends his pinky again, to close the promise they made before. The rest of the summer was going to be the two of them against whoever stood in their way to finish this glorified piece of paper. Maybe it was a dumb idea, like Harrison had inferred it to be, but Tom saw it as his answer. And a way to find out more about this mysterious pink-haired girl. Y/N connects her pinky, kissing her hand as they touched.

“It’s a deal,”

//

//

Taglist: 

@screeching-student-unknown / @nyctophilicstyles  / @vintage-moonlight / @breadbudzo / @h-natale / @originalpinkpowerranger/ @happywolves81 / @drunkgreek / @iamnida95 / @sydthekidsloth / @spiderboytotherescue / @laureharrier / @starksparker / @madon566 / @nophunleague / @itsbrittneynicoleee / @hereiamhereigo / @kkaup04  / @way-ward-whale / @thewackywriter / @safarimama  / @watermelonfruitsalad / @ceciliaromeroo / @lovely-luke  / @ninjalex1d / @captainbuckyy

#Tom Holland imagines #Tom Holland fics #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland blurb #Tom Holland blurbs #Tom Holland fluff #Tom Holland angst #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker imagines

[cilliansaccent]

The Peaky Designer - Cillian Fanfic, Chapter 6

Hello, welcome back. Below is the next instalment of my fanfiction!

Leave a like or a comment if you liked it, or if I can do anything better! Please, it would mean the world and to understand if anyone is enjoying my writing. Also, sharing/reblogging would be even better.

PLEASE READ:

I will not be including Cillian’s family as it’s kinda weird since he has children lmao. Just a mention of his parents and a previous lover.

I will indicate in a chapter if there is smut in the beginning and before the actual scene!!

I will add trigger warnings if there is any!!

There is a variety of levels of swearing during a chapter, I will not hold back, everyone swears.

The timestamp for the Fic is now 2016 and onwards!! 

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Background: Gabrijela Babic is a Croatian girl from Sydney, Australia. She is born in the year 1991 on the 24th of December. She studies a Fashion degree in a University with a major in Game Design as well. Her teacher in the fashion designer class managed to nail an Internship on the set of Peaky Blinders with the shows very own Costume Designer, Allison McCosh. There, she travels to London for under a year to learn how to be one, working alongside the actors as well the man she admires, Cillian Murphy. But, her platonic feelings for the man begins to grow into something more, and she wonders whether she should pursue them or let him go for fear of her strict parents and her three older brothers…

Characters:

Swantje Paulina as Gabrijela Babic (swalina on Instagram)

Cillian Murphy

Word Count: 2,507

!!Warnings!!: Smut at the end. 

Date: March 2016

Chapter Name: It’s Only a One Night Thing

Brief Chapter Outline: Gabrijela heads out for a birthday party with Logan before it ends on a very pleasurable note... 

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From Wednesday onwards, it was crazy. She had never worked so fast nor so busy. Her work back at home she was a full-time sales assistant in a lingerie store, and it wasn't as busy like how she worked here. 

To be honest, she wasn't sure if she was cut out for this type of stressful work. She was exhausted by the afternoon, and she hadn't been able to meet with Cillian much as filming became more intense and scenes had to be adjusted or changed. 

Lunchtime began to be whenever you had the chance to stop and eat, so she had alway's prepared herself the morning coming in. Though Logan managed to catch her during her breaks and they hung out a lot, even after when the day was over she had invited him into her apartment and started on watching Supernatural. 

It was quite nice, being with Logan. They watched well into the night, and both had fallen asleep on the couch with empty bowls from the chips or popcorn she had made for them. Gabrijela felt comfortable around the man, and they didn't shy away from talking about their desires and their life achievements. 

They both had the same issues of trying to impress their strict as hell parents and their decisions on what to do with their life would be a forever damnation, according to Logan's mother and father. 

She giggled at that, and he as well. 

Came Friday evening, Gabrijela was allowed to go home early. But she wanted to find Cillian before she left to see how he was going. 

He was walking off set and she caught his arm gently, "Hi!" She smiled. 

"Hey, Gab. Long-time no sees," They moved out of the way. 

"Indeed." She laughed softly, "I wanted to see how you were going." She asked. 

"Good! Good, never better. But a tad little tired but I'm used to this." He said, pulling off his cap and tucking it into his coat's pocket. 

Another reason why she hadn't seen him much was that they had moved to another city at some point during the week, and then it wasn't any time to talk to him. 

"I see. But you're doing a fantastic job, Cillian." She nodded, eyes shining with admiration. 

"Thank you. You seem like you are going somewhere?" He asked noticing the bag. Cillian had also felt sad he hadn't been able to catch up with her much nor see her, her presence always made him feel good and happy. 

"Yeah. Allison let me off early today, said I deserved a bit of an early mark." She giggled. "I wanted to tell you that in case you got worried if I wasn't around later." 

"Oh thank you for telling me that. Appreciate it." He also appreciated her kindness and her genuine self. She had always brought him coffee in the morning, or his favourite sandwich for later in the day. It was the little things she did for him that made him like her even more. 

"But call me later, okay?" She gripped his gloved hand. 

"Always. Hey, before you go, did you want to go to dinner tomorrow maybe? Or we could go to a gig or..." He offered as he trailed off. 

She pouted, "I'd love to but I'm going to Logan's birthday tomorrow night. How about Sunday?" She asked. 

"Party? Huh, okay. Yeah, we can do Sunday then. I'll call you tomorrow again for the details." He said, "Where are you going for the party?" 

"Uh, it's somewhere near Trafalgar Square it seems. I forgot the exact place." She shrugged. 

"You be safe, hm? Don't want you getting into any trouble." He pulled her into a hug and she wrapped her arms around him. 

He was so warm and smelled so fucking good. She couldn't help but bury her face into his neck a little. "I will, I promise." She murmured, he squeezed her gently. 

They pulled away and she kissed his cheek lightly and turned to walk away. 

Cillian placed a hand on his cheek, his smile growing. This girl was rubbing off on him and he couldn't help but become worried about her. He remembered what happened last time he took her out and he wasn't to close with the Logan boy she talked about. Or did he know about his circle. 

But Cillian couldn't fret over her too much or it would seem like he was overpowering her. But he would keep an eye out on her. 

Cillian headed off to get ready for the next scene. 

Saturday Night...

Gabrijela had her hair in a high ponytail. Her chosen outfit for tonight was a black mini skirt with a black long sleeve mesh top with golden stars. She had a simple bra for it. 

She was putting make-up on when her phone rang, she pressed the answer button without looking, "Hello?" 

"Hey Gabrijela," Cillian replied. 

"Oh hi, Cilly." She felt her heart jump. It always did when she talked to him. 

"How are you?" He asked it sounded like he was driving somewhere. 

"I'm alright. Getting ready." She said as she applied her eyeliner on. 

"Oh that's right, you're going out tonight." He mused. "Excited?" 

"I guess so. It's not my first time clubbing, but a first in London." She smiled as she concentrated on putting on her fake eyelashes. 

"You sure you don't want me to come?" He kidded. 

She let out a heavy sigh, "Cillian, I'm gonna punch you when I see you next." 

"Joking! God, don't get so antsy." He mocked, but she could hear the smile in his voice. 

"It's up to you if you want to come, it doesn't bother me. But I don't know about Logan." She said casually. She kinda hoped he would come. 

"Nah. I'm gonna have a night into myself, have some red wine, listen to music and have some cheese." He said with relief. "Been a long week." 

"It has. And you deserve it. Besides, we'll have tomorrow together. I can't wait to see Bath." She said with clear enthusiasm. 

"Good. It's a beautiful town." He said, "You'll definitely love it." 

She saw a message said that Logan was walking down, "Hey I gotta go. I have to get dressed." She said as she added finishing touches to her face. 

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, have fun." He said and hung up. 

Gabrijela changed into her outfit, sprayed on her favourite Tommy Girl perfume and pulled up her thigh high heeled boots. 

She grabbed her jacket and her sparkly bag and headed down when Logan called her he was here. 

Logan was dressed in a casual but nice outfit, black jeans and a tucked-in blue with a mixture of a green, red and white floral patterned shirt. His black hair was combed back and curled at the nape of his neck. 

He whistled when he saw Gabrijela, "Wow." He said as they embraced, "You are so fucking gorgeous." 

She laughed, "Thanks man, you look dashing as well." She nodded as she checked him out as he did a little turn with wide arms. 

"One sexy Scottish boy on the menu. Ready to mingle." He flashed a perfect smile. 

She blushed and he called an Uber, a couple of minutes later they piled in and off they went to the club. 

The club was underground and the music was electric, pumping a hard beat. People danced, some grinding against each other no matter who it was. 

Just like home, she thought with a slight shake of her head. She was used to this type of things, as the majority of the young people in clubs, they're looking for a quick fuck. 

Gabrijela had never had a 'quick fuck' with anyone, guy or girl. Just foreplay and that was where she drew the line. She couldn't think of someone being buried within her, especially when she had thoughts that drifted back to her ex. 

Her parents still to this day didn't know the mental abuse she endured through the prick, not even her best friend nor her friends knew about it. Gab worked her way through the pain after the messy break-up, she took counsel on her own and in secret. It helped to ease off the shit of her shoulders, but still, she would remember the dark nights. 

Silence was not the key but she didn't want to dwell on it now, or ever. She was a free girl and she would find someone who would love her as she was, appreciate her body and her emotions. 

Sitting with the group of friends Logan had invited, the drinks began to slide through. She chatted and laughed with the ones around and even danced with the girls. 

Tonight was good, she agreed, no one seemed to brush up against her or pester her. Everyone was in their own world and in their own groups, having the time of their life. 

More drinks, shots, anything. 

Then it was time to move on, the rules here were not as strict as in Australia so by midnight they had gone to four different pubs. Gabrijela had taken easy on the drinks but she could feel the alcohol messing with her head a little. 

Logan had watched her all night and wouldn't leave her side. In their last pub of the night, they were all over each other. Their lips in a heated lock of tongue and teeth. 

Cillian had been in the same club with a few of his mates, drinking and chatting about home. He had seen Gabrijela enter with the group, and had to watch her suck face with the damn Set Designer. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealously wash through him. He thought back to when he had his fingers inside her, the way her lips felt on his and the sounds he managed to drag out. 

Now Logan would have to hear those very sounds, and Cillian did not like that. 

But what could he do about it? He wasn't going to go there and break them up, for what? Because he was annoyed that Gabrijela may end up in bed with the boy and not him? 

Logan's hand went up her skirt, and Cillian picked up that thrust of her chest. He knew the boy found her treasure. 

Gabrijela pulled back and whispered something to him and his smirk grew as they got up. Logan parted ways with his group and left the pub with an arm around his- around Gabrijela. Cillian's heart squeezed. 

She was young, and she was to be with someone her age. Someone who wasn't going to be an old man in a few years, who wouldn't be able to keep up with her needs. 

But he couldn't help but feel jealous. 

Back in the Apartment...

They laid on the bed, Logan above her and holding her close as he touched her breasts and played with her pink, hard nipples. 

Her soft moans filled the air and he kissed her neck, "Gabe." He murmured and helped her pull off his shirt. 

Gabrijela admired the hard planes of his stomach, letting her fingers brush down his chiselled chest and to his belt buckle. 

Was Logan going to be the one to break her drought of proper sex? She hoped so, he was like a Greek God of some sort.

Well, Scottish God. 

She giggled, "Fuck you're so hot." She moaned as she undid his belt. 

"And so are you." He murmured, his long fingers yanked off her top, and then her bra. Better access now. 

"I want you." She moaned as his fingers flicked her nipples. 

"I'm all yours, beautiful." He said as his jeans joined the clothing on the floor. 

They helped each other undress whatever remaining clothing they had, and she was now laid on the bed, bare. 

His dark blue eyes roved over her body, Gabrijela was not entirely skinny. She had some curve and thickness to her body. But it made her all the most beautiful. 

Gab looked down his god-like body and the huge, thick cock that wanted some attention. "Lay on your back." She said to him. 

He nodded and did so as she moved between his legs. With a hand, she gripped him, with her other she began to touch herself. 

"Oh... Gab..." He sucked in a breath as she began to pump him slowly. She gripped him tight enough that it felt like he was inside something. His eyes shot to what she was doing between her legs and he let out a loud groan. 

She moved her hand faster, "Logan, you are so big. Holy fuck." She pushed two fingers in herself and moaned. 

"Mhm. I hope I can fit in ya." He chuckled breathlessly. 

She smiled, "Of course you will." She said, "But I want you to cum first when I do this." She leaned down and took him into her mouth. 

She sucked lightly on his head and she saw his fingers curl into her bedsheets. She began to take him right to the base. He was deep in her throat. 

"Holy fuck." He gasped, "No one- Oh fuck!" He couldn't talk as she bobbed her head. 

Her mouth was warm and tight, and she took him like a pro. Logan was close already, he was sensitive when he was drunk. 

Gabrijela fingered herself fast, moaning loudly around his shaft. She only pulled back to breathe before she went back to sucking him off. She went faster, eyes shut and for some reason she imagined Cillian. 

Logan let out a cry, his hand in her hair as he came inside her mouth. His load was thick and heavy before she gagged and came as well. 

She pulled back hastily, a bit of his cum leaking down her chin. "Logan." She pulled out her fingers and brought them to his lips so he could taste. 

"I want to ride you now." She said, moving to straddle his hips. 

"Ride me all night long." He said and held her hips. 

But she had paused above him, his cock in her hand and poised to go in. Her heart hammered in her chest, she suddenly felt... Unsure. The whole situation wasn't right despite how clouded her mind was. 

"Gabrijela?" Logan's gruff voice brought her back to reality, "You alright?" 

She looked at him, concern was in his eyes. She could see he was not going to hurt her, there was no malice in his eyes. She could do this. She was going to do this. She can. Screw that fucker. 

"Perfectly fine." She said with a dazzling smile and pushed him into her. 

They both let out a moan as he sat up and wrapped his arms around her. 

She did what she wanted to do and rode him all night with him finishing it off with him on top. 

They both fell asleep in a tangle of arms and legs well into the early mornings. 

#cillian murphy #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #fanfiction

[lucarioisinthevoid]

Im confused.. both with the henry x henry and by the candys stuff? can we ask candy and mary now??? how many henrys are in the void????? does dave like tarantulas??????? does henry is dead?????????? please?????

(2/5)Yeah sure, this is now a Candy blog. I promised it in my description that you could ask anyone and I guess they canonically share a universe. Somehow.I have no idea how, seeing as Candy’s looks like it has its shit together, unlike Freddy’s, so how can Freddy’s out-compete that restaurant?!Well, either way. I have embraced the world of the Dayshift up to the second game I mean and that means yes, we could get all of Candy’s into this blog if that is what you guys desire.Why you would come to a dsaf blog for Candy’s content is a whole other deal, but-“WE WILL H-H-HECKING NOT! I AM NOT- NOT, NOT DEAL WITH THESE TRAITEROUS F-FRICKING-“ The poor man was LOSING it, jumping up and down on the spot as he punched his fists into thin air. It ain’t easy being a phone guy. Hey, calm down. It’s just a potential scenario and there’s nothing you can do against it anyways. Hell if I wanted to, I could make you into a Candy’s employee, so you better sit down and rela-“EMPLOYEES!” Not tolerating this for a second longer, Phone Guy turned around to his crew. “We have, uh- a mission today! TODAY WE WILL KILL GOD!” Jeremy just quickly retreated. This situation REALLY stressed him out, he liked nothing about this. He had come to realize that if he hid in the backroom and didn’t do anything, the voice left him alone, so that was what he mostly did. Not to mention even SAYING to kill god was really awful. So, he was out for the count. The rest though was ready. I do have to correct here though, I am not god. I’m barely more than a disembodied voice-Mike growled, quietly but hatefully. “Shut the fuck up, you weren’t MEANT you stupid halluci-“ Phone Guy interrupted though. “NO. I- I MEAN YES. I- MIKE I MEANT THAT THING. WE ARE GOING TO KILL THAT THING. ARE YOU WITH ME OR AGAINST ME!?” Surprised Mike looked at him. “Wait. It’s real? YOU CAN FUCKING HEAR IT TOO?! HOLY FUCKING SHIT, I AM SO DOWN FOR THIS. I THOUGHT YOU NEVER ASK.”How romantic.“SHUT THE FUCK U P ALREADY!” Old Sport jumped into action as well, Dave joining right in. “WE’RE GOING TO BECOME GOD!”Okay… I’m a bit concerned. I might die before this event ends. Please someone send me help. Fairly interested Henry watched the commotion from afar, still entertained by the situation. But he took pity on the Anon, who’s questions got lost in the chaos, so he answered it for them. “Firstly, there are technically speaking endless Henrys in the void. Universes are endless and every small different decision opens up a new world. Some are even inverted or completely rearranged, because that is the nature of endlessness: If it CAN exist it WILL exist if there is no limit. The issue is that the void is not a space. Us Henrys will never meet each other even if we are technically in the void to connects all, because the void is outside of time and space. For two Henrys to meet in the void, something would have to happen- what exactly it is that can cause that, I am not sure. I had no time to study it yet.” He shrugged. “William is a little more tolerant of tarantulas, as they are too big to crawl into your ear. That gives him a little reassurance… but I would not bring them anywhere near him to be honest.”And does Henry is dead?Good question. Perhaps we killed one Henry and another one took his place without realizing. Maybe Henry was dead all the time and DSAF was his coma dream, with the reaper being his desire to end. Henry died tragically in his childhood which explains why nothing in the DSAF universe makes sense! HMMMMMMMMMM. TIME FOR A CONSPIRACY. DO WE PLAY AS DEATH HIMSELF IN DAYSHIFT AT FREDDY’S

#henry miller #Dave Miller #phone guy #old sport #mike schmidt

[tunehummed]

TWO-PLAYER GAME. — 355 sentences from joe iconis and george salazar’s 2018 album plus a few bonuses from live performances! change pronouns as needed. trigger warning for mentions of drugs, depression, and suicide.

BROADWAY, HERE I COME.

‛ i’m high above the city. ’

‛ i’m standing on the ledge. ’

‛ the view from here is pretty. ’

‛ and i step off the edge. ’

‛ and now i’m fallin’, baby, through the sky. ’

‛ it’s my callin’, baby, don’t you cry. ’

‛ i’m fallin’ down through the sky. ’

‛ broadway, here i come. ’

‛ i could almost go to pieces, but i’m not quite there yet. ’

‛ see i’ve been bravin’ crazy weather, drownin’ out my cries. ’

‛ i pull myself together. ’

‛ i’m focused on the prize. ’

‛ and it’s a tune you can hum. ’

‛ will i remain the same, or will i change a little bit? ’

‛ will i feel broken or totally complete? ’

‛ will i retain my name when i’m the biggest, hugest hit? ’

‛ or will i blend in with the rest of the street? ’

‛ the people all are pointing. ’

‛ i bet they’d never guess that the saint that they’re anointing is frightened of the mess. ’

‛ but even though i fear it, i’m playin’ all my cards. ’

‛ baby, you are gonna hear it when i give them my regards. ’

‛ and i refuse to go numb. ’

‛ is it a scream or a cheer? ’

‛ well, never mind, i’ll never find out. ’

‛ cause broadway, i am here. ’

TWO-PLAYER GAME.

‛ find the bad guy, push ‘em aside. ’

‛ then move on forward with your friend at your side. ’

‛ it’s a two-player game. ’

‛ so when they make an attack, you know you got a brother. ’

‛ gonna have your back. ’

‛ remain on course! ’

‛ and if they give you a smack, you use your force! ’

‛ and if you leave your brother behind it’s lame. ’

‛ cause it’s an effed up world. ’

‛ dude, you are cooler than a vintage cassette. ’

‛ it’s just that no one else but me thinks that yet. ’

‛ you’re just a nothing in this high school scheme. ’

‛ but it’s no big cause you and i are a team. ’

‛ nobody here appreciates, but soon we’ll be together where they do. ’

‛ cause guys like us are cool in college. ’

‛ we rule in college. ’

‛ high school is hell, but we navigate it well. ’

‛ it’s what we do. ’

‛ we make it a two-player game. ’

‛ as losers, we have fought together for years. ’

‛ now we’re stuck on a level and i wanna move on. ’

‛ just wait two years whereupon you’ll realize guys like us are cool in college. ’

‛ dude, i know, i get it. ’

‛ but we’re not in college. ’

‛ high school is wack, but we have each other’s back. ’

‛ you know that you are my favorite person. ’

‛ that doesn’t mean that i can’t still dream. ’

‛ is it really true? ’

‛ we’re never not gonna be a team. ’

‛ high school is shit, and you gotta help me conquer it. ’

I LOVE PLAY REHEARSAL.

‛ i love play rehearsal. ’

‛ because it’s the best. because it is fun. ’

‛ and i get depressed as soon as it’s done. ’

‛ see, i just use the word to emphasize the point. ’

‛ i am passionate a lot. ’

‛ i have mad, gigantic feelings. ’

‛ red and frantic feelings about most everything. ’

‛ like if i’m living up to all i’m meant to be. ’

‛ oh, uh… where was i? ’

‛ cause you are equipped with directions and text. ’

‛ life is easy in rehearsal. ’

‛ you follow a script so you know what comes next. ’

‛ sometimes life can’t work out the way it works out in the play. ’

‛ only when i’m in a show am i the center of attention. ’

‛ like when i’m [role] or [role] and can i mention? ’

‛ those were two of my greatest roles. did you see those? ’

‛ and no matter how hard i try, it’s impossible to narrow down the many reasons why. ’

‛ i happiness cry whenever it starts! ’

‛ it’s just so universal, getting to try playing so many parts. ’

‛ most humans do one thing for all of their lives. the thought of that gives me hives! ’

‛ i’ve got so many interests i wanna pursue. ’

‛ and why am i telling this to you? ’

‛ guess there’s a part of me that wants to. ’

‛ my brain is like ‘bzzz.’ my heart is like ‘wow!’ ’

‛ and it’s starting soon. ’

TINY SHORT LITTLE SONG.

‛ monkeys are cool. babies are too. ’

‛ they make funny sounds that sound simple and new. ’

‛ these are sounds that belong in my tiny short little song. ’

ANDY’S SONG.

‛ i ride my bike to work every morning. ’

‛ i ring my bell and make sure my helmet’s tight. ’

‛ MOVE, ASSHOLE! ’

‛ have a nice day! ’

‛ that happy grin is enough to provide me with total satisfaction for a long, long while! ’

‛ and i don’t have a car because of pollution. ’

‛ so completely not cause i’m much too scared to drive. ’

‛ i’ve gotten pretty far in my evolution. ’

‛ i don’t need a lot to be totally alive! ’

‛ you know those bicycle seats cut down on your sperm count. ’

‛ uuuh… i know that cause you tell me everyday. ’

‛ that boy needs to get laid. ’

‛ i tuck my polo shirt in my levis cause it looks SHARP! okay? ’

‛ how come every person i receive tries to tell me i need ‘something more?’ ’

‛ i don’t need a girlfriend, i got a goldfish! ’

‛ i don’t have a secret dream or some bold wish. ’

‛ i’m fine with what i’ve got, i feel totally alive! ’

‛ i never open it or shake it, too afraid i’d break it. ’

‛ i’ve had self-control since way back then. ’

‛ there’s nothing else i really need. ’

‛ you may think that i want more than i let on, but i’m really fine. ’

‛ but i’m really fine, so no need to be appalled. ’

‛ i’m this way by choice and what you can bet is i’ll keep moving forward. ’

‛ i’ll keep moving forward, the opposite of stalled! ’

‛ your bike is LITERALLY stalled in front of my car! ’

��� i don’t have a car cause they’re overrated. ’

‛ i don’t have a girlfriend and somehow, i survive! ’

‛ and just as i’ve stated, i mean what i’ve said. ’

‛ sure as the helmet’s on my head, i feel totally alive! ’

‛ i’m the opposite of dead, i feel totally alive! ’

THE ANSWER.

‛ when a fire starts in the hull, how much time do you have before it spreads to the deck? ’

‛ minutes? hours? what time is it anyway? ’

‛ how do you tell your family that you wanna quit school and just play with your band? ’

‛ when a fire starts in the hall, how much time do you have before it burns itself out? ’

‛ and why do i feel like i’m choking lately? ’

‛ what am i doing here? ’

‛ what am i looking for? ’

‛ maybe school, or maybe love, or maybe none of the above is the answer. ’

‛ maybe for once i’ll really try, or fuck it all and just get high cause that’s an answer. ’

‛ cause that’s answer. feels like an answer. ’

‛ and who do i wanna be? ’

‛ what’s the furthest distance a ship can be from shore before it loses its signal? ’

‛ maybe i’ll practice my guitar, or read a book, or steal a car and steal the answer. ’

‛ i’ll get a job and i’ll get paid, or get a girlfriend and get laid, and get the answer. ’

‛ i’ll join the army, go to war, give up my smokes or smoke some more. ’

‛ i need an answer. ’

‛ move to the village, shave my head, wind up happy, wind up dead. ’

‛ wind up in debt, wind up in love, or maybe none of the above is the answer. ’

‛ maybe it’s okay that i don’t have a plan and i don’t have a clue. ’

‛ i’m 19 and that doesn’t mean that i should know exactly what i wanna do, right? ’

‛ i’m 19 and that doesn’t that i should know what i wanna do. ’

‛ i’ve got time to make mistakes, make up my mind. ’

‛ i’ve got time enough to find out all the answers. ’

‛ but i am scared and i’m afraid that a decision won’t get made. ’

‛ i’m afraid that a decision won’t get made and i’ll be like this forever. ’

‛ i need help, need extra help to find the answers. ’

‛ what’s the answer? ’

‛ i don’t know. ’

‛ pencils down, papers turned over. time’s up. ’

‛ time’s up. ’

LISA.

‛ ain’t got no future. ’

‛ ain’t got no future, but i got ADD. ’

‛ but i got ADD. ’

‛ i steal from 7/11. ’

‛ i’m fuckin’ ugly. ’

‛ but she pretends she doesn’t care. ’

‛ she laughs and smiles, fingers through my hair. ’

‛ she must be ashamed of me. ’

‛ so i try and i try to change myself. ’

‛ so i try and i try to change myself, but my back’s against a wall. ’

‛ but my back’s against a wall. ’

‛ i don’t deserve all the coolness of her. ’

‛ i don’t deserve [name] at all. ’

‛ pollute my body. ’

‛ she makes me feel clean, clean, clean. ’

‛ i say ‘i feel like i’m drownin’’. ’

‛ and even though she don’t, she say ‘i know what you mean.’ ’

‛ sign on to AOL and think of funny things to say. ’

‛ she’ll always LOL, never pretends like she’s away. ’

‛ because she likes me for some reason. ’

‛ i know i’m dumb. i know i’m ugly. ’

‛ i know that she is not. ’

‛ i know if i were her i’d hate me. ’

‛ i hope that she does not. ’

‛ i hope that she does not hate me. ’

THE VAGABOND.

‛ i’m wearin’ two pair of underwear, some worn out kicks, and my mangy hair. ’

‛ my mangy hair could formerly be referred to as blond. ’

‛ i’m just a couple years out the clink and i’ll take showers in your kitchen sink. ’

‛ i guess i’m what you’d call a vagabond. ’

‛ i been walkin’ the highway for a while. ’

‛ fragrance of the road is my cologne. ’

‛ maybe i get some sun, maybe get a ride. ’

‛ i don’t worry none, let destiny decide. ’

‛ life’s laid back when you’re totally alone. ’

‛ life’s laid back when you’re on your own. ’

‛ see i don’t have much, don’t have much. ’

‛ don’t want much, don’t want much. ’

‛ don’t need much, don’t need much. ’

‛ don’t need much ‘cept maybe the promise of whiskey at the end of the day. ’

‛ i’m just a vagabond lookin’ for a place to stay. ’

‛ see i walk and walk and walk some more. ’

‛ i’m green grass high and a little sore, hopin’ that a car will soon appear. ’

‛ i stick out my thumb and i let it linger. ’

‛ and my eye kinda travels to the ring on my finger. ’

‛ it reminds me of a woman who’s not here. ’

‛ and my chest starts hurting, that’s just cause of the heat. ’

‛ and for the first time in days, i start feelin’ my feet. ’

‛ i start feelin’ the feelin’, the journey’s crushin’ me. ’

‛ cool it, man, just get it out of your head. ’

‛ where’s the car, where’s the car? this road’s fuckin’ dead! ’

‛ but i don’t worry, just repeat instead. ’

‛ yeah, well fleein’ ain’t a problem for me. ’

‛ cause if you get me down then i guarantee, i’ll up and leave and i never will return. ’

‛ i’ll break your heart, i’ll break your back. i won’t lose no sleep. ’

‛ shit, i can’t keep track of every bridge i use and then i burn. ’

‛ and the thought of what i’d done to you is what sends me through the desert and beyond. ’

‛ i’m up for a trade. just take me far away from mistakes i made. ’

‛ take pity on the broken vagabond. ’

‛ the promise of shelter at the end of the day, from the places where the bad bastards swarm and pray. ’

‛ with every bone in my body wanna hear you say that this vagabond can put his walkin’ shoes away. ’

NORMAN.

‛ i haven’t known her very long. ’

‛ think i can tell that something’s wrong. ’

‛ think i spy tear drops clinging to her pale white skin. ’

‛ on this dirty night, i just want her to feel alright. ’

‛ we all get a little sad sometimes. ’

‛ i want to watch her chew her food. ’

‛ i want to watch her in the nude. ’

‛ i want to watch her wash away her ugly sins. ’

‛ and if i’m caught she will not slap my hands because she understands. ’

‛ because she understands that we all act a little bad. ’

‛ we all act a little bad sometimes. ’

‛ i can see your image in picture frames looking ever so formal. ’

‛ if you rearrange the letters in both our names, you get one away from normal. ’

‛ we’re both one away from normal. ’

‛ i’ve never seen a girl like her. ’

‛ we’re not in love. i wish we were! ’

‛ put all your love inside of me. ’

‛ i’m in a trap so set me free. ’

‛ let’s go right now, the two of us, and not look back. ’

‛ and the logic might be hazy, but i’m hoping that she’s just as crazy. ’

‛ we all go a little mad sometimes. ’

‛ we all go a little mad sometimes. don’t we? ’

‛ i can tell you’re hungry and you need some food. ’

‛ if i didn’t offer i’d be awfully rude. ’

‛ it’s not fancy, it’s not stable. but join me if you’re able. ’

SONG OF THE BROWN BUFFALO.

‛ uuuh, might i ask… who the fuck are you? ’

‛ hey, white man. do you know what i am? ’

‛ i’m the brown buffalo by way of mexico. ’

‛ i am an attorney on a lifelong journey. ’

‛ never met a man i couldn’t devour. ’

‛ never met a plan i couldn’t put in place. ’

‛ they attack, i brace. they escape, i chase. ’

‛ i’m a tad temperamental, so get out my face. ’

‛ i’m mad monumental, see my dick from space! ’

‛ i am strength for the weak, i am speed for the slow. ’

‛ this is the song of the brown buffalo. ’

‛ i’m beastly and i’m brutish and my fur is caked with gore. ’

‛ i’m the trouble you’ve been looking for. ’

‛ you don’t know i’m brilliant cause you only hear my roar. ’

‛ i don’t ever hide from a fight that needs to be fought. ’

‛ i would never filter a cigarette or a thought. ’

‛ my mind is open wide and it grows and it grows. ’

‛ inhibitions cast aside, it just goes where it goes. ’

‛ see i’m a great big bad brown buffalo. ’

‛ my head is full of acid, but my heart is kind and pure. ’

‛ he’s the trouble you’ve been looking for! ’

‛ my politics are liberal, but i pack a .44. ’

‛ i pack a .44, which i use to fight for those who are too weak to wage a war. ’

‛ i’m the trouble we’ve been looking for! ’

‛ my mind is open wide, it expands, it expands. ’

‛ every open gate i pried with these hands. ’

‛ leaving no path untried, walks the sands. ’

‛ i’m no ordinary human, no no no. ’

‛ this is my birthright, baby, and this is my song! ’

‛ food, booze, drugs, guns, and radical politics! ’

‛ you’re the brown buffalo. ’

‛ see now you know. ’

MICHAEL IN THE BATHROOM.

‛ i am hanging in the bathroom at the biggest party of the fall. ’

‛ i could stay right here or disappear, and nobody’d even notice at all. ’

‛ i’m a creeper in a bathroom cause my buddy kinda left me alone. ’

‛ but i’d rather fake pee than stand awkwardly or pretend to check a text on my phone. ’

‛ everything felt fine when i was half of a pair. ’

‛ now through no fault of mine, there’s no other half there. ’

‛ now i’m just [name] in the bathroom. ’

‛ [name] in the bathroom at a party. ’

‛ forget how long it’s been. ’

‛ no, you can’t come in! ’

‛ i’m waiting it out till it’s time to leave. ’

‛ i’m just [name] who you don’t know. ’

‛ [name] flyin’ solo. ’

‛ [name] in the bathroom by himself. ’

‛ all by himself. ’

‛ i am hiding, but he’s out there, just ignoring all our history. ’

‛ memories get erased and i’ll get replaced with a newer, cooler version of me. ’

‛ i’ll get replaced with a newer, cooler version of me. ’

‛ i hear a drunk girl sing along to whitney through the door. ’

‛ now there’s no one to make fun of drunk girls with anymore! ’

‛ i half regret the beers. ’

‛ i’ll wait as long as i need till my face is dry. ’

‛ i’ll just blame it on weed or something in my eye. ’

‛ they’re gonna start to shout soon. ’

‛ oh hell yeah, i’ll be out soon! ’

‛ it sucks he left me here alone. ’

‛ here in this teenage battlezone. ’

‛ i feel the pressure blowin’ up. ’

‛ my big mistake was showin’ up. ’

‛ i throw some water in my face and i am in a better place. ’

‛ i go to open up the door, but i can’t hear knocking anymore. ’

‛ and i can’t help but yearn for a different time. ’

‛ then i look in the mirror and the present is clearer. ’

‛ this is a heinous night. ’

‛ i wish i stayed at home in bed, watching cable porn. ’

‛ wish i offed myself instead, wish i was never born! ’

‛ i’m just [name] who’s a loner, so he must be a stoner. ’

‛ god, he’s such a loser! ’

‛ all you know about me is my name. ’

‛ awesome party, i’m so glad i came. ’

THE GOODBYE SONG.

‛ the time has come. ’

‛ i’m flying away. ’

‛ mouth is numb. heart don’t know what to say. ’

‛ and although i’ll be out of sight, dear, know i’ll be right here. ’

‛ right here forever. ’

‛ and when you look to the night skies, don’t think of goodbyes. ’

‛ think how i’m right here. ’

‛ thank you for teaching me lessons. ’

‛ thank you for listening to mine. ’

‛ don’t be scared, you’ll be fine. ’

‛ come! ’

‛ no, you can’t come with me. ’

‛ stay! ’

‛ i wish i could. ’

‛ goodbye. ’

‛ i know it’s hard to say. ’

‛ i’d stay if i could. ’

‛ i’d stay if i could, but the universe won’t let me. ’

‛ but the universe won’t let me, so please be good. ’

‛ so please be good and don’t you forget me. ’

KABOOM.

‛ i never cared about caring much before. ’

‛ i rolled my eyes and even texting was a chore. ’

‛ i was your average heartless kid. ’

‛ hey, read this book. ’

‛ the book is by some guy who’s dead. ’

‛ i read it and i’m glad i did. ’

‛ it was by a person who i never knew, but the words made sense and the message too. ’

‛ the words made sense and message too. ’

‛ it made me fired up, it made me care. ’

‛ i wasn’t scared, i was not alone. ’

‛ made me wanna make something of my own. ’

‛ something wired up that i could share. ’

‛ and that person i would never see just totally affected me. ’

‛ is that legacy? ’

‛ i never cared about fireworks before. ’

‛ i thought that they were just for babies, nothing more. ’

‛ i was your average fucking kid. ’

‛ i was your average fucking kid, but then i started giving things a second look. ’

‛ but then i started giving things a second look and realized fireworks were kind of like that book. ’

‛ and i’m really glad i did. ’

‛ if handled with intelligence and care, the explosion and the crashing sound can seen and felt for miles around. ’

‛ it reaches folks who weren’t even there. ’

‛ even though i didn’t see the blast, i watched glitter in the sky blow past. ’

‛ and that’s legacy. ’

‛ what do i leave behind? ’

‛ which is why we gotta make a spark. ’

‛ which makes a flame and then will leave its mark for someone else to find. ’

‛ and that person who lived dangerously makes me braver than i used to be. ’

‛ and now i’m fired up and how i care. ’

‛ and i always squeeze my bloody heart and i let it drip into my art. ’

‛ and wow, i’m fired up. ’

‛ the light that shines on the distant shore is the light i will be aiming for, forever. ’

‛ it’s where i want to go. ’

‛ and i’m gonna reach it. ’

‛ oh, on with the wonderful show! ’

#askbox meme #rp meme #sentence starters #lyric starters #mine. #mine: lyrics.

[snoozejoon]

Too Much | Park Jimin

pairing: park jimin x black female oc (ft. jung hoseok.. again :))

genre: angst, fluff, a whoole bunch of lovey-dovey stuff n heartbreak

warnings: mental illness (specifically bpd - borderline personality disorder), mature scenes, vulgar language and mentions of suicide and depression.

word count: 3.3k

Solace Wright just wants to remove herself from her overbearing job and find some genuine joy in her life on her own terms. She didn't exactly expect to land in South Korea to begin making an acclaimed name for herself, and she definitely didn't expect to fall so easily in love. She knows what she came to do and isn't exactly fond of having such a large distraction, but her heart softens without her permission and leads her to experience things she never imagined for herself.

Did she want this? No. Will she stay anyway? Yes.

She may have bitten off more than she can chew.

PREMIÉRE

Past.

HOSEOK hated the heat. He hated L.A too. He loathed the bright, smoldering heat that made him have nightmares of lava eating away at skin before he fell asleep; accompanied by the restless sounds and people that enshroud him everywhere he seemed to turn. And if one more droplet of sweat dared to drip down his face one more time, he'd hop on the fastest plane to Korea within the next hour. 

The moment his skin made contact with the summer sun here, he immediately regretted even coming. Why his father sent him out of all the other nice, heat tolerant people he has employed at his aquarium was beyond him. Beyond him. Literally. He knew little english, despised American food, and random foreigners that couldn't mind their business, so this was the worst job his dad could possibly give him.

The only liable reason he can come up with is that his father trusted him. Which was kind of a given, seeing as he was the only child he had that considered marine biology as a career path. He was also his dad's only child, so there was that aspect too. Hoseok was being sent to one of the biggest sea life aquariums in Los Angeles to sign literally one slip of paper and shake some probably cold hands just to confirm the conversion of the aquarium into the Jung corporation, due to horrible reviews on the well-being of their sea life, and poor treatment of their customers — and employees. 

So naturally, sales dropped, and prices ran cheaper, but people never seemed to want to visit anymore. Hearing about their children's favorite killer whale dying the day after the family went to visit wasn't exactly the best look . . . at all.

His father, noting that every other company tied within the U.S simply refused to lend a helping hand, stepped in on his own. Being a businessman was his best attribute; this simple encounter alone was going to add millions to his company, evidently putting himself even more on the top of the marine world than he was already. He'd do his best to add more revenue to the aquarium under his ownership; since all of the 4 aquariums he owned in South Korea were healthily successful, he only expected the same outcome for the one here; but that would take time. A very long time.

That was great and all, but did it require a whole suit and tie ensemble? In black? He almost wants to cry, but for one: he'll for sure taste the salt in his tears and it's too hot for that, and for two: he's not trying to explain to an American the reasoning behind his tears in his kindergarten level English on this bus that was going way too fast for his liking. So no crying. He could sit and be pissed though, so that's exactly what he does.

It takes a good forty-five minutes to get to his hotel, just to fumble with his key to his room when it was handed to him, lug his too-heavy-for-a-week-stay suitcase into his room, and eventually fall into some strangely comfortable sheets and fall into the arms of a power nap. Jet-lag was yet another thing that Jung Hoseok hated, and he refused to let it hinder the pace at which he could actually leave this place. He had a big day tomorrow.

Hoseok knows that the sun is necessary for life and energy and whatever else, but waking up to it shining directly into his irises wasn't the plan. The universe just seemed to genuinely enjoy messing those up though, so who can really say that this wasn't expected anyway? The meeting was at 10, so he got up at 7, quickly regretting that decision as well; U.S time and Korean time were sworn enemies. But Hoseok prevails and tries his best: studying and trying to absorb every English word he could in the textbook he brought, he even got the mobile app so that his phone could speak to him while he fumbled with his tie. He practiced masking his accent — and evidently failed, but that's okay — and eventually said fuck it, grabbed his suitcase, and left his hotel room.

During the bus ride to the aquarium, he tries to mask his nervousness by continuing to study and attempting to make somewhat of a script for the meeting he had later. He tries to answer in his head any question that could possibly be asked — which shouldn't be many — until he's memorized just enough to get by. He's almost positive that he'll stutter more than necessary and say something incorrectly by default but he decided that was the best he could do.

After a long and almost unbearably bumpy bus ride, he finally arrived at the aquarium, and when he heard about the decrease in visitors, he didn't think it would've been this much. The aquarium was open for sure, but without looking inside, you would've thought it was during closing hours. No one was even remotely interested in the activities occurring outside; which was saying something, because it was a whopping 102 degrees today. The only people actually outside where the employees with the animals, feeding and bathing their assigned sea life.

The aquarium was huge. 2 long pillars held the building up from the sides, accompanied by the various games and activities surrounding it. An array of ticket booths stood outside as well, with less than about 15-20 pedestrians per line. Hoseok felt like he was at the entrance of a movie theater, much less a famous aquarium. Hoseok literally stops in his tracks; just standing to take it all in. admittedly, his father's aquariums were better, but this one was still something to admire. A shame, it was that it wasn't selling well. He knew his dad would fix that though.

As he entered the large building, he immediately makes eye contact with one too many sea creatures; they seem to literally stop and peer at what he's doing and silently ask why. His footsteps falter at his paranoia; was he serious right now?

Let's not make this visit longer than it has to be, Hoseok, he thinks to himself. Please don't.

Hoseok picks his head up, wipes his sweat with the sleeve of his blazer — unprofessional, but he doesn't care — and eventually just takes the jacket off. He wouldn't be forced to suffer anymore because he really couldn't feel the aquarium's supposed "air conditioning" at all. After doing this, he ignores the scrutinizing looks from the fish surrounding him, and begins his quest for the administrative's office to meet with the CEO. Not even five steps are completely taken before he's almost ran over by a woman with a box that definitely had no chance of lasting long in her hands. Way to not make this visit longer, huh?

The collision is heavy, but more so on his part; she actually remained standing, and the sound Hoseok made at his fall was too loud to simply apologize and not worry about potential injuries. 

"Oh my God!” The woman exclaimed. “I'm so sorry-"

The box she held is safely placed on the ground before she reaches out to help pull her victim up — he hadn't even attempted getting up, but sprung up easily with her help. 

"Thanks," he grunted, noting at how soft her hands were, and peeking at her white lab coat. Her eyes were a wide mahogany, matching her skin, and her hair was kept in a high and unruly bun. He decided that he had been irritated enough since he got here, and getting angry — angrier — would only slow him down. 

"I'm fine," he inwardly grimaced at how his voice sounded, "I, uh. I think."

She kept rumbling off with apologies, because what a great way to end her last day here. 

"I'm so, so, sorry! I was just moving out from my room and you were walking in front of my office and—" she blinked rapidly, taking in his appearance and then really looking for injuries, "wait, you look important, a-are you sure you're okay?" Her hands roamed his shoulders, head, and arms before he interrupted her with an embarrassed cough.

"Um." Immediately her hands left his arms, shooting behind her back and interlocking in embarrassment. She couldn't help it, he wore more than her rent and she was not about to get sued today. He felt his cheeks grow hot at her actions; he definitely wasn't used to that. He cleared his throat, loosening the collar of his shirt — was it hot in here? Significantly hotter than usual?

Eventually finding his composure, he directed his speech to her as carefully as he could. "You are okay." Her eyes met up to his, her heart was pounding too damn hard for a Tuesday morning. "Sorry, uh, my English isn't very good — I'm Korean. I'm trying though."

Her brows rose, and Hoseok had to stop himself from thinking the worst before she spoke, "Oh really? I studied marine biology in college, with Korean as my minor, I know the language, if that's easier for you?" She reached down and struggled to pick up her box completely; but Hoseok noticed and helped her to stand.

He couldn't even completely understand what she said, but he heard Korean and easier and put two and two together. 

"Really? Yes!" he coughed, lowering his voice, "Ahem. Please. I have a meeting with your Ceo and I'm not sure how far I'll get." Pleading eyes bore into hers, trying to get his point across.

"I'm Jung Hoseok, by the way," he said, before she could reject him.

The woman's hands wrapped over the box tightly, and her lips turn to blow escaped hairs from in front of her eyes. Noting that he mentioned that Korean would be easier, she quickly remembered the honorifics. 

"Hi Hoseok. I'm Solace. So, you need a translator?" She finally settled her box firmly in her hands and looked at him expectedly.

Solace. It was a beautiful name, it swelled nicely under his tongue when he repeated it. Her Korean was good; her accent was obviously apparent, but still understandable. "Yes," Hoseok answers hurriedly, "If you're not too busy."

Solace shook her head, "No it's fine, today was my last day anyway. Let me run this box to my car really quickly and I'll be right back." Hoseok can barely respond with his gratitude before her heels find their speed and she leaves the building.

When she returned, she also had to direct him to the administrative's office as well, he didn't exactly have a directory to the aquarium. While she was showing him the way, Hoseok had the opportunity to observe the aquarium fully; dwelling on how his father could fix this, and tweak that. And that was all before they even got to an elevator.

He tried small talk too. She was granting him a favor, so the least he could do was get to know her a little. Random questions that popped into his mind, he wanted them answered. He was still in need of a distraction; nerves were never something to be messed with.

"So," he raised his voice as he stepped in the elevator beside her, "did you quit? Is- is that why it's your last day? Or -" his eyes widened with interest, "were you fired?" 

He saw her face turn to him quizzically, she couldn't possibly figure out how that was any of his business, but she let it slide. She clicked the circular 5 button for the fifth floor, and the elevator ascended upwards.

"No, not fired. I quit." she looked down at her fingers, "the reviews written about poor employee service weren't wrong."

"Oh."

Hoseok nodded, not exactly shocked by her answer; it only added to the things his dad could fix once he signed the contract. And maybe it was the close proximity of the elevator, but Hoseok knew the scent of a mango when he smelled it. There was something else in the air too — something tropical.

He didn't know if it was perfume or what, it just smelled amazing. So amazing that his body made decisions he probably shouldn't have; like leaning in towards the area of the smell — which was Solace. He only sacrificed a small sniff, but it was one sniff too many apparently — she tensed up immediately. Did he just? She didn't even see him do it; her attention was on the elevator door waiting to open.

Hoseok hasn't noticed her noticing him, and moved back to where he originally stood, unbothered. He realized that it was her hair that smelled as nice as it did, a dash of coconut and hibiscus scents accompanied the mango too; adding a nice, beachy smell. But Solace noticed, and didn't exactly know how to react either. Her head turned to him swiftly, an amused but weary expression residing in her eyebrow arch and smirking lips. 

“Did you just smell me?"

Hoseok — looking embarrassed as ever and face so red he almost looks sick — Seriously debates acting as if her Korean was so accented he couldn't understand her. Too late for that, of course; but the suggestion still ran through his mind. He wonders if he should just lie, claim she was hearing things, but that would get him nowhere.

"I-I'm sorry! Something just smelled really good so I just-" his ears burn even more at the sound of her small laughter, she reached her hand to cover her smile.

"It's fine," she giggled some more, "does my hair smell that good?" Hoseok releases the breath he didn't realize he was holding when the elevator finally releases an anticipated ding and the doors separate from each other.

Solace disregards Hoseok’s small yes as an answer, and gracefully leads him to the Ceo's door. A closed door with a frosted window awaited Hoseok, who just stood in front of it beside her, frozen. Solace looked to him expectantly, but halted, realizing how nervous this guy really was. When she thought about it, she'd act just like him, let the roles be reversed. So reassuringly, she placed her hand on his shoulder, waiting until he turned to her.

"I got you, Hoseok. You've got this." She smiled, and Hoseok gulped. How embarrassing, Hoseok, really.

"Thanks," he said, before lifting his hand to knock.

"You did so good!" Solace smiled at him from across the dining booth. She was right; he greeted the Ceo and his associates with ease, Solace had to help him with just a few things. And after he signed the few documents he needed to, he took her out for lunch as an expression of his gratitude. And solace never says no to free food, so she happily obliged.

He had asked her what she wanted, so she went to the nearest restaurant that had chicken and waffles; she had been craving them, and Hoseok never had them. So she was in front of him now, indulging in her delicious chicken and dipping her waffles in maple syrup alongside it. Hoseok was watching what she was doing, trying to replicate her etiquette. He blushed for the nth time that day, hearing her bellows of praise. He wasn't complaining, though.

"Thank you," he beamed. "You were a really big help, I'm happy you were there today." He finally tasted his chicken with a syrupy waffle, and Solace watches his eyes widen with astonishment — that's almost everyone's reaction to the treat. 

"Wow."

Solace looked knowingly back at her own plate. "I know."

After Hoseok drew himself back from waffle heaven, he asked curiously, "Wait, so where do you go now? Since it was your last day. Do you have like, a backup job? Something you're interested in?" He looked back at his plate, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth.

Solace chewed slowly, heeding his words while relishing in the simple calamity of the restaurant: the clinking plates and glasses, loud and quieted voices. This was a question she didn't necessarily have an answer to, so she silently searched for some sort of answer to tie him over.

She looked back up and him, frowning a little. "No, not really. I guess I'll just stay with my stepmom for a minute — like, literally a minute, the woman hates me — until I find something . . . else." She shied her face from Hoseok's worried gaze. She just couldn't stay at that aquarium, it payed fine enough, but damn, if it wasn't tiring.

Hoseok swallowed slowly after hearing what solace said about her job, and noting how uncomfortable she was talking about it. Great going, man. A thought crossed his mind — granted, it was a crazy, stupid thought, but a thought nonetheless — that consisted of inviting solace to her dad's aquarium back home.

He almost facepalms just for thinking it. In what world would that make sense? He finally removes it from his train of thought completely, but he sees her expression as she fell silent and looked outside the window beside her. She looked lonely, for a moment, although he was right there in front of her. He wished he couldn't relate so well. Maybe it would've kept his mouth from rambling off.

"You- you know, my dad just had a new aquarium built in the last, like six months. Since it's so new, we're a little short on employees, so if you want — since, you know you're fluent and all —" he gulps seeing her eyes widen, and her body suddenly becoming alert.

"Really?" Hoseok really wished he was kidding when he said she was fluent, just the way she said that one word made her sound like a native. "You are? I mean, it's a little far-fetched, but dammit I'll take just about anything." And he believes her, her heart had amplified it's beating, her excitement from his words noticeable like a star upon obsidian.

His face is burning roses, but his cheekbones raise in a smile; he wasn't lying, he just didn't even know she'd agree so fast — was she thinking this through at all?

No, just like your stupid ass, Hoseok.

Hoseok finds relief in the ice water that was placed next to him, he really couldn't let her down now. finally finding a voice, he breathes, "You sure about that? It might take a little while, but i'll see about getting you down there a little quicker. perks of being the director's son, heh. And you’re a nice enough girl." It was the least he could do. Literally. He won't allow himself to offer anything else.

Solace clutches her lab coat she didn't take off harshly, barely even believing his words. It would take a while, and who knows how long she'll actually be down there for? If she actually got the job? But she knew she wouldn't exactly miss being here. She wouldn't miss her stepmom, she wouldn't miss the loud, bustling people in L.A, and she definitely wouldn't miss that job. The only thing she might actually miss was these damn chicken and waffles. And she'd get to travel. The pros outweighed the cons, to her.

“It does sound nice, but where would I even stay? I’d be broke as soon as I got there," she said, sadly biting her nails.

He knew the answer a little too quickly. "I'm friends with a landlord in the heart of busan, right next to the beach. It's nice. Cheaper than most. I can’t promise anything, but maybe I could persuade him to lend you a room. If you'd like."

Music to her ears. "I'll take it."

Hello again! As I edit and prepare for the newer chapters of Fools, I decided to drop this one to hold you guys over. This is a Jimin fic, but I decided to start it off from Hoseok’s standpoint, because this is how Jimin and Solace’s stories begin, and that’s with Hoseok. At the beginning you will see the chapters fluctuate between the past and the present until they eventually meet up. I hope it’s not too confusing, but my inbox is always open if it is! As mentioned above, this story deals heavily with the themes of mental illnesses, but specifically borderline personality disorder, aka bpd. Jimin is the character with this disorder, so please be aware of that as you continue to read. I also want to point out that I absolutely do not condone romanticizing mental illnesses, so be assured that none of that will be included here. Thank you for reading, and I really hope you enjoy this!

#jimin angst #jimin fic #jimin #jimin ambw #hoseok fic #hoseok #hoseok ambw #bts #bts fic #bts ambw #kpop fanfiction #kpop poc

[hanalwayssolo]

Beyond the Opulence

A/N: While I’m briefly taking a breather from Laws of Motion, I saw it fit to go back to some self-indulgent reader-inserts, so here we are. This new series of one-shots features FFXV men (older!bros in particular) in varying AUs. First up is Noctis.

Tagging some pals! @raspberryandechinacea @noboomoon @emmydots @gowithme @valkyrieofardyn @blindedstarlight @lazarustrashpit @bleucommelhiver @hanatsuki89 @animakupo (lmk if y’all want to get tagged on the succeeding ones!)

(Links in AO3) Alternate Universes in Which You and I Belong Together: Noctis | Gladio | Prompto | Ignis | Nyx | Cor | Ravus | Ardyn

The draft of your resignation letter on your computer screen is staring right at you with serious judgment, and you immediately think how Noctis is going to take this.

You have thoroughly considered Weskham Armaugh’s promising job offer in Altissia Works. Higher pay, better benefits. The title of VP for Communications definitely has a nice ring to it. But you know that quitting your current job is the last thing you ever want to do. As executive assistant to the CEO, dealing with the hustle that came along with your responsibilities is what you enjoy best: procurement requests, internal communications, meeting arrangements, public affairs, game launches and conventions, and pretty much overseeing Noctis’s day-to-day schedule have all become a steady ritual that you can probably do even in your sleep. You are severely fond with your work, so much so that you do not mind how taxing it could get on most months; the benefits and compensation that comes with your job even helps you in more ways to sustain a decent living. Besides, it’s not like you are not getting any support; if Ignis had not come along and taken the wheel behind all financial and strategic side of things, you would have easily lost your mind to stress. His sharp wit equates to his even sharper mind, and with all the years of working together, both you and Noctis have acknowledged that neither of you will survive without Ignis’s thoughtful counsel. In fact, Noctis claims he couldn’t find a better tandem to work with; for someone who is occasionally quiet and reclusive, he is pretty outspoken to always let you know one certain truth: that he wouldn’t survive a day without you and Ignis at all if he wanted to keep a robust video game company running at its finest.

So you didn’t mind the overtime hours. You didn’t mind the workload.

But as much as you love working for Noctis, you really don’t love the idea that you are recklessly falling in love with him.

Years of being around him, and you cannot really recall how this feeling unraveled itself. Was it because he is always checking up on you whenever you are spending too many late nights in the office? Was it whenever he brings you your favourite takeout food when you scarcely move from your seat even on lunch breaks? Or was it that time when he showed up in the middle of a Tinder date gone wrong after you texted him a simple ‘fuck this guy is a nutjob send help’? He always has your back, as you always have his. But how long have you felt this aching weakness for him? You know Noctis is always kind, if not a little too generous for his own good. He always goes out of his way to help others, treats everyone as equals. No hierarchy or class ever prevented him from reaching out to people. Even with someone like you, who had to claw your way out of the slums into this better life you have designed for yourself.

This, you thought, is what makes Noctis such a perfect guy: he is caring and selfless, even if he has a strange affinity with cats, or if he gets way too enthusiastic about fishing and video games. Sure, some people may think that the only notable things that qualify Noctis in the hall of perfection is because of how he is a handsome and dashing bachelor in his thirties who owns one of the most successful startup companies in all of Eos—a bold and impressive feat, considering he is already heir to a billion gil Lucian conglomerate. But he is more than his family name, more than his net worth, more than his pretty face.

And yet, perfect guy Noctis may be, he certainly is not perfect for you. He may still be in the market, but he is most surely way out of your league.

You minimize the word document and squeeze your eyes shut for a moment. The looming tower of files on your desk is already giving you a head-splitting migraine. The shrill sound of the printer right beside your cubicle is only making it worse. Not to mention, the group of game devs and quality analysts loudly debating their ideas in the conference room right across from your workstation. Interns are milling busily through the halls—some on skateboard, some on rollerblades. The background noise is starting to become insufferable. Even your favourite pop album blasting on repeat from your earphones is not helping. You return to your draft, and begin editing a couple of sentences:

After careful consideration, it is with deepest regret that I should inform you of my decision to leave the company. This is because...

You are tempted to end the sentence with a more blatant truth that says I am in love with you and could no longer stand being around you than saying that you are to pursue a better career opportunity. Which is downright nuts. Absolutely batshit crazy. It is true that you are never one to mix work with pleasure, and you are not that shallow to leave something behind for a petty reason...

But this rotten one-sided feeling with Noctis is a torment you cannot stand any longer.

Why do I always fall for the ones I could never have?

You are so close to murdering anyone who dares to step within the close perimeter of your workstation when a knock against your desk startles your fiercely undivided attention away from your screen.

“You seem like you’re about to massacre the whole floor. You good?”

You look up to see Noctis standing in front of you—extremely dapper clad in a white dress shirt and jeans—studying you with extreme concern. With much speed and dexterity and without even looking at your monitor, you quickly replace the word document on your computer and pull up the presentation deck with a subtle alt tab on the keyboard. The slide on display is that of the organizational chart that shows a couple of the functional units paired with the names of its respective leads. Cor Leonis, Risk and Control. Prompto Argentum, Creatives. Cindy Aurum, Product Engineering. Nyx Ulric, Game Development. You smile at him and say, “Yup, all good. Just reviewing my slides for the town hall later.”

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow, rubs a hand over his stubble-crusted jaw. A playful smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. “But you already know our monthly demographics like the back of your hand.”

“That’s Iggy, not me.”

“You keep selling yourself short,” he says, a little bit sternly. Then, he glances at his watch and all of a sudden, he narrows his eyes at you. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“Why, thank you very much for asking, sir, but I already have,” you lie with an awfully pleasant smile.

As expected, Noctis is not buying it. The scowl on his face clearly says so. “Don’t make me ask Pelna to terminate your access.”

You laugh. “Wow, you’re going to ask our best programmer to go on this extreme measure just to get me out to lunch? I couldn’t even imagine how your Cybersecurity Director is going to take that breach of protocol.”

“I think Gladio’s gonna let that one pass.”

"HR, then?"

"Nah, Monica and Holly would probably support this."

“Oh really? How so?”

“Yes, ‘cause they know I’ll do everything for you to go out with me.” Noctis pauses, and you stare at him.

“I’m sorry, what—“

“I mean, for lunch—“ Noctis reaches for the back of his neck, and he swiftly backpedals in a flustered stutter— “like go out with me for lunch is what I mean—uh, you know. ‘Cause we know you rarely go out to lunch. Or even outside, for breaks. And ‘cause pulling the plug of your workstation clearly isn’t going to work with you.”

“Oh. Right.” You nod and you can feel the pinprick of needles on your chest. Either from the way he seemed to vehemently deny his way out of his misspoken invitation or the fact that you almost thought he felt the same way about you, you cannot tell at this point. Maybe it’s both.

The silence that follows is close to unbearable.

Noctis awkwardly starts, “So, you mind if—“

“Hey there, you two.” Nyx suddenly saunters in front of your desk, all swagger in his black leather jacket, and you almost thank the gods out loud for his casual intervention. He greets Noctis with a clap on the shoulder, and he looks at the both of you with a cheeky lopsided grin. “Am I interrupting—“

“No,” you and Noctis both say all at once, and way too defensively.

“Okay, cool.” Nyx flashes one of his devilish smirks, all the while still warily eyeing both you and Noctis. “Anyway—“ Nyx turns to you, sliding one hand through his hair and pushing the other on the pocket of his jeans— “you wanna grab some lunch at Yamachang’s, chief? I owe you big time for sending me the stats I needed on the mobile app I’m working with Crowe and Libertus. I’m a Lannister and I always pay my debts—“

“Yeah, sure,” you immediately tell Nyx as you briskly rise from your seat. You don’t know what made you agree with Nyx’s invitation so easily, that when you glance at Noctis, he is looking at you with an expression that you cannot seem to figure out.

“Glad someone’s finally successful in getting you out of your cubicle for a change,” Noctis says with an odd smile. “I’ll see you both in the town hall, alright?”

As Noctis walks away and starts to mingle with the game devs in the conference room, you see Nyx is watching you curiously.

“What?” You try not to sound annoyed, but the question spills snappily out of your mouth.

Nyx clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “You two are really something, huh.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means…” Nyx sighs, leaning against your desk. “Never mind. C’mon, let’s get going.”

Nyx offers you his hand and you take it. He whisks you out of your desk, and you laugh at his weird display of chivalry. As the two of you make your way out of the office, you pass the conference room and your eyes land on Noctis. His eyes meet yours, and he gives you a small smile. Nyx’s hand on yours suddenly feel terribly out of place. The thought of your resignation begins to settle heavily at the pit of your stomach. The job offer in Altissia has never been so appealing.

The town hall concluded without a hitch. By end of the day, you are pretty much exhausted, but relieved all the same. Everyone left early for the long weekend, and you are glad to have the whole floor all by yourself.

Well, almost.

Noctis is still in his office, his door wide open. You double-check his calendar to see if he has anything lined up on his schedule. He’s free for the rest of the night, and you take a deep breath.

This is it. You have already made up your mind, following your better judgment. It’s now or never, you think to yourself as you march your way to his office, letter in hand.

You knock at the door. “Hey,” you say, and Noctis looks up at you. A wide smile brightens his face.

“Hi, come in,” he says, gesturing to the couch in front of him. He eyes you nervously. “Have I missed any urgent meeting? Or anything that needs my approval?”

“No. Actually, you’re already free from this time onwards. Checked your calendar before I came here.” You couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, most of the time you have ever entered Noctis’s office is to remind him whenever he’s running late for a meeting or to follow him up on matters that require his immediate attention.

But this time around, it pains you that you’re here in front him for an entirely different reason.

“Oh, by the way—great job earlier, as usual,” Noctis says rather proudly. “Not that I’m surprised.”

“Um, thanks.” You wince another smile. His genuine kindness is a rock in your mouth that is slowly grating you with guilt.

“So…” Noctis trails off, his fingers drumming against his desk, and he is still looking at you with searching eyes. “I hope you’re not planning on staying here in the office for a few more hours.”

“Nope.” You shake your head. Your insides are twisted into knots when you say, “Actually, I’m already planning on leaving.”

You slide the letter on his desk. He unfolds it, and you watch how his smiling face shifts into something else. At first, he is surprised, then the second, he is completely crushed.

Noctis lets out a shuddery sigh. “I don’t understand—“

“I don’t need you to,” you swiftly say. “I got an offer. In Altissia. I’m sorry if this had been so sudden. Not to worry, I have all of my tasks and responsibilities properly documented for transition—“

“No, I don’t care about any of that,” he says, his voice deeply strained. “I just want to know why.” He pushes himself off his desk, circling over to you. “You said you love working here.”

“Yes, I do.” You cannot bear looking at him. Tears are starting to well under your eyes. “But I…”

“But what?” Noctis is now standing so close to you, his eyes casting you a searching look. “Tell me, please.” He moves in another inch. You could already smell his perfume, and you swear if he moves any closer you are going to shatter.

“Noct, it’s just...“ you say, and his name almost breaks along with the sound of your voice. “I don’t think I can work here if I—“

A solid knock on the door traps the remaining words in your mouth. You wipe your eyes before you turn to see Ignis standing by the doorway. He looks at you, then at Noctis. If he had caught on any of the conversation, Ignis is doing an excellent job not showing it on his face.

“My apologies,” Ignis says. His tone is urgent. “Aranea from the Niflheim Studios’ Business Division just called. Says it’s about Ardyn’s offer for a collaboration. Should I ask her to call back—“

“It should be okay, Iggy,” you tell him, waving a hand. “I was just about to go.” To Noctis, you say, “I think you should probably take that. You know how your uncle can get so utterly relentless.”

Before Ignis or Noctis could breathe another word, you hastily take your leave. Ignis gingerly closes the door behind you, and his discussion with Noctis is reduced into hushed whispers. You walk back to your workstation, and as quietly and quickly as you could, you take the opportunity to pack all your personal effects while no one is around. You have so many memories here in Lucis Labs that as you stuff each frame and trinket into the cardboard box, there‘s no use holding back your tears. The annual trips with the whole team, the late night dinners with the game devs, the caffeinated days of tireless convention weeks…

It’s slowly dawning on you that not only you are leaving Noctis behind, you are also leaving a ragtag bunch of geniuses you have come to consider as family.

Unsteadily, you carry your belongings, weaving your way past the dimly lit hallways, past the glass boards and collaboration spaces, past the array of black-and-white cubicles, and onto the lifts. Downstairs at the Citadel’s lobby, your footsteps echo against the mosaic floors that one of the guards turn to look at your direction. It happens to be Dave, whom you already consider a pal after all the help he has extended to you on occasions you have missed bringing your ID to work. He takes a glimpse on the box you have wrapped around your arms. He cast you a stunned look.

“How? Why?” Dave asks in disbelief. His graying hair and beard looks just as lonely as this evening.

“Found a new job,” you say with a small smile. You hope he doesn’t notice how your eyes are still wet with tears. Kindly enough, he says nothing. He only offers you a polite nod and a sad smile as he ushers you out of the turnstile.

Just when you’re only a few steps away from leaving the premises, you hear your name echo all over the vastness of the almost empty foyer from a very familiar voice.

You turn and you see Noctis running after you.

“Wait,” he says, and he’s panting like he’s taken all twelve flight of stairs in a hurry just to get to you. Or has he?

“Noct, please. If you’re here—“

“I’m not here to stop you from taking the offer,” Noctis cuts you off. He exhales loudly, catches another lungful of air, before he goes on, “If you think it’s best for your career, then I’ll support you. No matter what. I’ve always believed that you’re off to do great things, and I’m sorry if how I acted earlier made you think otherwise. I just… it’s hard for me to accept that I’m about to lose the best assistant one could ever ask for.”

“Please don’t say that. You still have Ignis.”

“But Ignis is not you. And he knows that, too.” Noctis steps closer to you, smiling. He takes the box off your hands and sets it on the floor. “So, now that you’re effectively no longer working for me, I guess I have to do one more thing.”

“What thing—”

Noctis does not let you finish the sentence when he crushes his lips with yours. He kisses you fiercely, in a way that loudly proclaims I’ve been feeling the same way about you, and I just don’t know how to show it.

Despite wanting to believe that this is all happening, your disbelief pulls you away from Noctis. Breathlessly, you say, “Wait, I just want to be clear—you… you like me?”

Noctis laughs. “Goodness. I don’t just like you—I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. It’s just—” he bites his lip, reaches for the back of his head the same way he always does whenever he is at a loss for words, but he shakes his head and pushes through— ”it’s, uh, well… I know how you don’t like being involved with romantic affairs at work. I know how you keep your private life completely separate from your job, and I respect that. I didn’t want to complicate things for you, so I kept my distance, in a way. So… by the time I realized how strongly I feel about you, and after learning from the people in the office that it’s obvious that our feelings are mutual, let’s just say it felt like I am fucked.” He pauses, and the blush on his handsome face is in full bloom. Then, as if by some realization, the pleasant expression on his face wilts into a mild panic. “Shit, am I wrong? You don’t feel the same way, too, do you—“

“No, no!” You say quickly, catching him by his arms. “I… That’s not it. I do feel the same way, Noct. I’m just surprised, that’s all. I didn’t realize that it was so obvious for people to know. I never heard about it from anyone.”

“That’s because everyone is terrified of you.” Noctis smiles, and he playfully pinches your chin.

You frown. “You make me sound like I’m Cor.”

“Hey, don’t worry—he’s of a different calibre.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “So you’re not terrified of me? Is that it?”

“Well, I will always be terrified of you,” Noctis says teasingly. “Because it's one of the many reasons why I love you.”

This time, you yank him by the collar of shirt and pull him for another kiss. There exists a fraction of a moment in that kiss where time is in a standstill; your mind freezes, your heart stops beating, and there is only that rush of electricity racing down your spine. And then, all at once, the knots in your stomach have untangled. Your hands finally move on its own accord, and so does your lips.

He presses his forehead against yours. In a breathy whisper, he says, “I’m yours. I want to be yours. Will you be mine?”

“Yes,” you say, and you cannot help the smile tugging on the corners of your mouth. “I’m all yours.”

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #fanfic #noctis lucis caelum #older!noctis lucis caelum #noctis x reader #older!noctis x reader #my writing

[elareine]

In the shallows

Chapter: 2/6 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings for this chapter: Some swearing, mentions of racism (no slurs), guns and addiction Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, NO CAPES, Identity Porn, Romantic Comedy, Drama & Romance, Texting, Online Dating AO3: /18803473

Chapter One

Why is LA traffic so terrible.

R_n_R: You get used to it.

It’s like there’s a thousand damned souls on the freeway each morning and we just haven’t noticed we died yet.

R_n_R: Jesus, did you skip your coffee or something?

…Maybe.

Big day today. Wish me luck!

Two weeks into the pre-filming stage, Jason and Dick finally got together to work on the music.

“So. This is when they first become a couple, right?”

Dick frowned. “I don’t know if that’s accurate. They don’t kiss until after that scene, and they don’t talk about it until much, much later.”

Jason honest to God was rolling his eyes at him. “You honestly think they need to kiss to be together? They’ve both made the decision to do this, right?”

Dick barely managed not to yell at him. “I don’t think it was that conscious for Vano, but continue.”

“Thank you.” The sarcasm was grinding. “So I got the bridge and all that, but we need to figure out the chorus part. It’ll be you alone at first and then together. Like this…”

Jason started playing.

Listening to him, Dick felt all his annoyance fade. Say whatever you wanted about Jason - the man knew how to write songs. Hearing him sing live was different from streaming him on Spotify, too. It felt a bit surreal to be in a room with this… this genius.

“For arrangements, I was thinking just the acoustic guitar at first, then later the piano and more strings. Drums for the finale.”

“Yeah, it’s good.” That was admittedly a bit of an understatement.

Jason didn’t look fazed by Dick’s apparent lack of enthusiasm. “Here are the lyrics. Let’s try it together, yeah?”

After a deep breath on Dick’s side, they did. It was fine until they came to the chorus Jason had talked about. It had sounded great when Jason had done it alone, but with Dick…

There were a lot of long notes and Christina-Aguilera-style ’ah-ah-ah’s. It was just a lot. Dick barely got through it.

Jason didn’t look impressed, either. “Okay, again. Just the second part. This time, remember to breathe and get loud. Put some power into it.”

Dick glared. Way to be encouraging, asshat. “Okay, bring it.”

Infuriatingly, Jason just grinned as he started playing again. At least Dick was annoyed enough to forget about worrying. It probably improved his performance.

Still, he felt kind of stupid, singing his heart out as if he was at carpool karaoke.

“Better. Again. Stop feeling self-conscious.”

“Oh, thank you, that helps.”

“You’re an actor, right?” Jason barked. “So act. This isn’t your song, it’s Vano’s.”

Right. Vano, who loved Mateo and wanted to share this moment with him. Who found a voice in this scene.

“I’m off the deep end, watch as I dive in // I’ll never meet the ground // Crash through the surface // Where they can’t hurt us // We’re far from the shallow now…”

Dick’s heart beat faster when they finally came to a finish. Yeah, okay. That had been much better.

Jason looked approving, too. Despite every bad thought Dick had about him, that did feel good. “Fucking great.”

Before Dick could, you know, bask in the compliment or anything, he added: “Though you were off-key. This is G major, not minor. Again.”

It was going to be a long day.

Do you sing, too? Or just play the guitar?

R_n_R: Hey, there’s no ‘just’ about it! Guitar is difficult!

R_n_R: I sing too, though, yeah. Why?

I don’t know how people do it.

R_n_R: Talent and work. The usual combination.

No, I don’t mean that.

Don’t you feel exposed?

R_n_R: Pretty sure there is an exhibitionist joke in here somewhere

R_n_R: No, but seriously, aren’t you an actor? What’s different about singing? Just that it’s less your thing?

That too. I’m vain, in case you didn’t notice. I’m not me on stage or in front of the camera though, am I?

R_n_R: Interesting. I never looked at acting that way.

R_n_R: With singing it’s… I mean, I’m a songwriter because I think there has to be truth in the music. Even if it’s just a fun song about sex.

R_n_R: People notice when you’re just putting it on. Might be enough for a hit or two with the right manager, but you’re not going to last.

R_n_R: Look at Adele. Are her songs revolutionary? No. Are they continually evolving masterpieces of songwriting? No. But it’s not just her voice. She’s got that magic. You believe every emotion she sings about. It’s never too much.  

R_n_R: Not saying there isn’t a skill to it. Obviously there is.

That’s what I’m worried about. Lessons can only teach you so much.

R_n_R: This for a recording?

Yeah. Sorry, can’t tell more.

R_n_R: It’s all good, I know how it is.

R_n_R: Who cares if you get it right the first time then? You’re not playing live. Auto-tune and techs will fix what you can’t.  If the songs are good (I’m assuming you didn’t write them) and you’re decent technically, just focus on being honest. Or honest in your role.

R_n_R: I have no idea how that part works, obviously.

Haha, thanks. That’s actually reassuring, tbh.

And no, I don’t write the songs. Wouldn’t even know where to start. How do you do it?

R_n_R: Depends. Sometimes it’s a motif (melody snippet) I can’t get out of my head, sometimes a feeling or a song lyric. Then I just sit down and try it out until I got a solid idea, and then write it down. And then it changes again when I’m playing it with other musicians. How do you approach a performance?

I usually get a script, right? So it’s not making it up in my head so much as trying to understand what the writers and the director envision and then turn that into a fully formed character with mannerisms and a distinct voice and all that. I used to fill out reference sheets with character building questions, but these days, it comes naturally.

But honestly, movies are broken down into small scenes that you repeat over and over and over again, so it’s more important to stay in that moment. You need to be able to fix it on a character timeline, sure, but ideally, you stay in the feeling and give the director something slightly different each time to work with.

Why, got a big acting job lined up?

R_n_R: Luckily, it’s not much of a requirement in music videos, but I’ll take any help I can get ;)

R_n_R: But seriously, enough shop talk. Wanna watch another episode?  

Even as filming started in earnest, relations between Jason and Dick didn’t exactly improve. They didn’t argue all the time, but Dick was always relieved when someone else joined them for lunch. One Tuesday, it was one of the main sound technicians. Dick barely knew him, but Jason seemed to, as they immediately started a good-natured argument over West Coast vs East Coast venues.

Honestly, it was pretty funny. Despite himself, Dick laughed when Jason described New York clubs as “full of wannabe writers and singers”, but still better than “the wannabe-celebrities in LA”.

Kyle looked at him. “You’re both from New York, right?”

Jason snorted. “You say that as if it means we should know each other, Kyle. Are you still on about that East Coast Elite conspiracy shit? ‘Cause let me tell you, we ain’t it.”

Always escalating the situation, that man.

“I was born there, yeah,” Dick acknowledged to diffuse the situation, “but my parents were circus folk, so…”

Kyle looked taken aback. Dick was used to that, so he just added: “We never stayed anywhere long. I consider our circus my home town.”

“Huh. Well, I’m from a small town in South Carolina.

“I’ve seen your so-called ‘town’, Kyle.” Jason actually made the air quotes with his fingers. “It’s about as Guns, Jesus and Country Music as you can get.”

“And yet you played our local theater.”

“Dude, in the beginning I would’ve played a McDonald if they’d paid us in veggie burgers.”

Kyle slapped his back, laughing. “That’s my Jason.”

Jason flinched visibly. Then he tried to laugh it off immediately, but Kyle looked at him with concern. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, just took a tumble a couple of days ago. Just a pulled muscle.” He grinned. “Don’t go thinking your weak-ass slap did that, dude.”

Despite himself, Dick cringed. He’d been injured for most of the filming of ‘Step Up 6 - Heatin’ Up The South’ and it had been a pretty shitty experience. ‘A star is born’ wasn’t nearly as physical, but thinking of all the lifting Jason had had to do over and over again this morning, he offered: “Would you like some painkillers? Pretty sure I got some in my trailer.”

“No.” Jason’s answer was more brusque than the offer demanded. Even Jason himself seemed to realise that because he added: “Thank you. I took something earlier, don’t want to mix.”

Yeah, when exactly? They’d been stuck together for the entire day. Dick would’ve noticed. Still, he mentally shrugged it off. If Jason wanted to be in pain, he could be, for all Dick cared. 

 Tell me about yourself.

 R_n_R: Uh.

 Not, like, identifying information. What do you like, besides music and movies with plenty of explosions?

 R_n_R: This isn’t going to be much of a surprise, but travelling. It’s one of the best things about being on tour.

 Do you have time to really see a place?

 R_n_R: I try to take it these days if scheduling allows.

 R_n_R:  My band’s, I mean. It loses us some money, but I think we all benefit if it’s not just one anonymous stadium after the other.

 God, yes, I hate that about press tours. At least with filming on location, you get to see the area. What’s your favorite place to visit?

 R_n_R: Yeah, with promotions I never know where I am, either. Favorite place…

 R_n_R: Man, that’s difficult.

 R_n_R: What’s yours?

 Just so you know, I can tell you’re stalling. Tokyo blows me away every single time. I got to see a lot of Japan, actually, and it was so beautiful.

 R_n_R: I went on this Japanese game show once, it was fun. Just doing physical games against a boyband that’s super famous there. Not much talking needed, which was good because I always feel terrible I don’t speak more than a few phrases of the language.

 Well, you’re just traveling through, right? At least you tried.

 C’mon, answer my question.

 R_n_R: I kind of fell in love with Berlin.

 R_n_R: Not the prettiest city by any means, but there’s just so much on offer and no one looks at you twice no matter what you do or look like.

 Sounds like New York.

 R_n_R: Kind of, yeah. They have a similar vibe, but obviously, Berlin is more European. Also amazing bookshops. I stumbled upon one that’s sci-fi and fantasy only.

 Wouldn’t the books be in German?

 R_n_R: Nah, there were plenty of English ones (and other languages). It’s a very international city. The seller told me many people like to read books in their original language, if possible, and most of them speak English in some capacity.

 So you like reading then?

 R_n_R: Yeah.

 R_n_R: Confession: I spent most of the day just there. There was a market hall with food stands right next to it and two more bookshops, one specialising in mysteries, and yeah. I got stuck.

 Sounds amazing.

 Though I gotta admit, I prefer audiobooks these days. Just more convenient to listen to while I’m doing something else.

 R_n_R: See, I can’t do that, I need to sink into it.

 I’m just bad at sitting still.

 R_n_R: Not judging! I think it’s cool there are so many ways to get to experience a story these days.

 R_n_R: Listened to anything good lately?

Dick tried to be a giving actor, really. Until today, Jason had been a receptive partner. Today, though, he was going through the motions woodenly, not picking up on any cues, really. It negatively influenced Dick’s own acting, and Dick could feel himself tensing up, knew he was slipping from the character.

Two hours and countless takes into the scene and Dick snapped.

“What the fuck are you doing,” he asked even before Kate called ‘cut’.

Jason glared at him. “My job.”

“No, you’re fucking not!”

“Both of you, shut up.” Kate wasn’t happy. “We’ll take twenty. Get over whatever crawled up your asses and come back ready to work.”

Jason nodded and wordlessly stalked off. Dick forced a smile on to his face: “Sorry, Kate.”

She rolled her eyes and waved him off.

Whatever, this wasn’t his fault, Dick thought as he walked over to his trailer. Jason was just impossible today. Fuming, he took out his phone, ready to complain to Rock_n_Rumble, when he saw that there was a text waiting for him.

 R_n_R: Not feeling so great today.  

Immediately, Dick shoved Jason the back of his mind. That asshole wasn’t that important.

 :( What’s happening?

 R_n_R: Just ran into an asshole racist this morning.

 ?? Are you okay??? What happened??

 R_n_R: Said he was a fan, but, you know, clearly didn’t get the memo that I’m not available for his white supremacy bullshit.

Dick knew that feeling all too well. His blue eyes made it easy for people to forget he was Romani. These days he tried to talk about it as often as he could in interviews and stuff, but… people saw what they wanted to see.

R_n_R: Nothing unusual - you know how it is right now - but he was carrying a gun and I wasn’t. Didn’t pull it, but.

That sounds terrifying R

R_n_R: Kinda was. I dunno, I’m just still feeling slightly off-kilter right now and I can’t concentrate at work.

That’s understandable. Can you take a break?

R_n_R: Am on one right now.  

Me too. Won’t be long tho - anything I can do?  

R_n_R: Tell me not to do what I used to.

Dick’s mind started racing with the possibilities, but all he typed was: Whatever it is, don’t. Those assholes aren’t worth it.

R_n_R: Thank you.

R_n_R: Okay, time to pull myself together. No use taking it out on the wrong people. I can go punch something later.

Look, there’s literally no way you’re being as much of an asshole as my co-worker today, so.

R_n_R: Pretty sure there’s every way, but I’ll do better now.

As if on cue, there was a knock on Dick’s door. “Mr Grayson? Filming will resume in five.”

“Thank you, I’ll be right there!”

Gotta go. Take care, ok? <3

R_n_R: You too. Punch your co-worker for me.

When he returned to set, Dick wasn’t in any mind to deal with Jason’s shit, but the other man seemed to have pulled himself together. He didn’t talk at all beyond the necessary between takes, which usually would have annoyed Dick to no end but honestly worked out better than what happened before.

Turned out they didn’t need many takes after that.

Maybe it had just been Jason being scared of being vulnerable? Dick knew some of these tough guy types were.

Still. He would have expected the guy to be enough of a professional to not let it bleed into their work and fuck it up for everyone else.

When he fell onto his couch that evening with a sigh of relief, Dick’s phone chimed with a new message.

R_n_R: Sorry to have put that on you.

R_n_R: I did mention I was an addict before, right?

In passing.

Dick was about to add more, to tell him it was okay, that they didn’t need to talk about it today, but R_n_R kept texting as if he hadn’t seen Dick’s ‘typing’ status.

R_n_R: I don’t know what it’s like for actors but honestly, once you’re on tour and even halfway famous, drugs are fucking everywhere. It’s not an excuse - I grew up with that shit, I know better. Got put on some opiates for an injury and never got off.

R_n_R: So I needed pills to push me up.

R_n_R: And alcohol for my nerves, which weren’t doing so great with all the other stuff I was taking. Weird, right?

Dick’s hands were shaking. Now more than ever, he wished he could at least hear R_n_R’s voice on the phone to soothe him; or better yet, be face to face with him. Hold him through what was clearly a painful thing to tell.

R, it’s fine. You don’t need to tell me.

R_n_R: No, you should know what it means. You know, if we ever meet. I’m always going to be an addict, just hopefully a clean one.

R_n_R: My mom died of an overdose. I’m not going to be her.

Promise?

R_n_R: I promise.

R_n_R: And you never need to worry about setting me off, okay? Like. Even if you decide I’m an asshole and not worth it tomorrow, my stuff isn’t on you.

Dick hadn’t even realised he had tears in his eyes until one dropped down on the screen. Still, he was smiling, too.

Thank you. For that promise and for telling me.

I don’t think you’re an asshole at all. Kind of the opposite tbh.

#in the shallows #elareine writes #jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #fanfic