#VERY CLEARLY and efficiently if i do say so myself like he was communicating. it wasn't unhealthy LOL 😭

[elympios]

OWG2 - His Scar

Short story from the Official World Guidance. Like always, machine translation, but thanks again to @lastthroes for looking over it in... May. of last year. Yeah I totally forgot about this one, but I really liked it!

Notes:

Rideaux is just kinda rude all the time but English isn't as efficient with conveying formality/politeness registers :(

onzoushi is an old term for “the son of a distinguished family" or "the son of a noble”, because Julius is the son of the CEO. I would probably localise it as "the heir" (of Spirius or the Kresnik clan or the Bakur family) but Rideaux uses it as a vocative term and English kinda lacks in words for that. So I went for a royalty thing instead and just had him be "your Highness" sarcastically.

This is set in Primia 4293, so one year after the pasta thing. Julius is 16, Rideaux is 17.

* = I can't quite figure this sentence out but I just made a guess...

The idea of a "time at which you become aware of things around you" is ridiculous. Humans are already aware of everything around them from the moment of their birth.

Most people just can’t remember it.

My proof of that? I’m proof, myself. I remember everything since the moment I was born.

I didn’t care for the treasured platinum watch I was born with, but the ticking of its gears was proof that I was alive.

The funny thing is, the real proof that I was alive, my heart, was defective and fragile.

I remember the look on my parents' faces back then when they found out. I remember it very clearly, they looked like they’d been told the worst of jokes.

The "slapstick comedy" that followed was what society would call "the time at which you become aware of things around you"... Eh, ten years later, that story isn't worth a single Gald.

My point is, "the time at which you become aware of things around you" is just a way to say you have a bad memory.

Or perhaps I'm the one who’s special? Unfortunately, someone else is already proof of that. Julius Wi Bakur-- Oops, isn't he Will Kresnik now? He gets mad if you call him by his old name, so I get it wrong on purpose.

I remember his case, it seems he and that silver pocketwatch of his were welcomed with open arms by his father.

In addition to being a direct descendant of the ancient Kresnik line, he’s also the son of the powerful family that leads the Spirius Corporation. Not only that, he possesses a powerful Chromatus, so he’s an heir with high expectations.

I sound jealous? Ha, like I’d ever admit to that! That’s--

Bang!

"Found you, Rideaux. We have a mission."

Suddenly, there’s a kick to my back from the sole of a shoe, right against my new tailored suit!

There is only one person is stupid enough to treat me like this.

"Don't mess around like that, Julius! Do you know how much this suit cost?"

"Do I know?” he asks flatly. “I know you have a bad taste in fashion."

At least it’s better-looking than those fake glasses you wear that hide what you really think! You just suddenly started wearing them for some reason. Are you worried about that horrible expression in your eyes? Hmph, don’t tell me you met a girl?

"It's a two-person mission. Hurry up and get ready."

Tch, he has this attitude despite being a year younger than me. He's always been like this. Know-it-all bastard.

"Wow, am I babysitting the prince of Spirius today?"

"I'm the one babysitting you, the seventeen year old who won't calm down."

Look who’s talking! What happened to the guy who, until last year, was just like me?

"I don't want to be bossed around by the prince. "Back then" I killed 150 more people than*--"

"How many times do I have to tell you until you'll understand? Don't call me that,” he interrupts in a cold voice.

Oh, how long has it been since you last spoke like that? It sends chills down my spine. Good.

"My bad, your Highness~!" I say, draping my arm around his shoulder overly familiarly and giving him a special smile.

But Julius only pulls and turns away to face the newly-installed communication terminal instead.

"... The Fractured Dimension is No. F41BF. Here are the details."

He starts reading out the data displayed on it. The glare of light on his glasses hides his expression.

Hey, you can’t possibly be ignoring me! How disappointing. Do you want to be a good little boy now? If this were the you from just a while ago... Whatever. It's a win for the me of the present. It'll make it easier to do this damned job.

"Depth: 209. Deviation: 0.05. The rift is located in Trigleph."

"209 with a deviation of 0.05? That’s gonna be annoying."

These values are provided by Spirius Corporation's prided spacetime radar, Kudlak's Claw. To put it kindly, the smaller the deviation, the more similar it is to the Prime Dimension, and the harder it is to find the Divergence Catalyst. In addition, the high depth indicates that only certain people can enter it. People like us.

I close my eyes, and search for the spacetime coordinates in my mind. It's a feeling only those who have a Chromatus can understand, but it's like extending your mind out like a tentacle and connecting to the Fractured Dimension's entry point. Or like catching a fish on a hook. Hehe, fishing is a boring hobby, though I've never tried it.

Okay, I've got it! 

Suddenly, Julius, in level 2 Chromatus, disappears without another word. He really isn’t a team player, is he? No wonder he has no friends.

I spit at the place where he just stood, then leap into the target dimension.

.

A silver-haired woman peers past the big shopping bag of tomatoes and pasta in her arms, clearly cautious of something. Her face has been casually covered up by a hat and scarf, and she’s conscious of anyone following her. However, her ability is still that of an amateur.

It’s my second day in this Fractured Dimension. I've been searching repeatedly for information, and on the outskirts of downtown Trigleph, I’ve found the possible host of the Divergence Catalyst.

Claudia Il Kresnik. A woman who has already died in the Prime Dimension.

Even though she’s dressed plainly, she’s very beautiful. I’m guessing she’s around thirty... three? I'm quite confident in that estimate. I'm pretty confident in guessing women's ages. Maybe I should verify that before destroying this world.

Regardless, it seems like I found the Catalyst before Julius did.

It might be called a two-person mission, but we’ve always operated like this. Teamwork? Don’t make me laugh. Just thinking of working alongside someone as unsociable as him makes me feel sick.

Spirius' goal is for us to compete and strive to be stronger than the other. If they didn't plan on that, I don’t think they would have put the two of us together, when we’re so incompatible.

The most important thing for the both of us is to show proof of "one’s usefulness". It is, quite literally, a matter of life and death. 

Claudia finishes her shopping and heads for the slums. I follow at a distance. Any closer, and I’ll be able to tell if she’s the Divergence Catalyst, but in such a crowded place, “disposing” of her might be surprisingly difficult. The last time I went on a rampage with Julius, we went all out until it drew the attention of the military itself. It was fun, but--

Still walking, the woman enters a crumbled ruin of an apartment building.

I follow her stealthily, hiding my presence. At first glance, it seems like there’s no one else here. But, once up the stairs, I can hear a strange humming of song. Damn, someone else is here. How annoying.

Claudia, who has been frowning, suddenly stops in her tracks at the sound and gives a joyful smile, before quickening her pace up the stairs.

She knocks at the door of Room 302 in an odd pattern, possibly as a signal to the person inside the room. The humming stops. I need to act now, it’ll be annoying to deal with more people. In a single move, I draw a surgical knife and close the distance between us.

At the same moment that Claudia sees me and her face freezes in fear, the door opens. A kid, with the same silver hair as her, peeks his face out of the door. I think he’s about the same age as I was when I had my aspyrix surgery…? It doesn’t matter.

"Mommy?"

At that very moment, the Divergence Catalyst in the child shows itself.

"Oh, so you’re the one?" I say.

"Ludger, run!" the woman screams.

She draws a knife and stabs towards me. For an amateur, she’s quite fast. I back away a step.

"I won't let you have him! He's... He's just a child!"

Claudia pushes the child behind her, protecting him, glaring at me with burning eyes. Ah right, that’s what the eyes of a parent should look like, no? As a reward, I kick her in the stomach. She screams in pain.

"Mom!"

The mother falls to the ground, curling into herself and holding her stomach, and this time, it’s the boy who protects his mother. Good, it's almost like they’re following a script. Mother and son will be skewered through together. It’s just a shame I won’t be able to know if my age estimates were right. My Level 2 Chromatus activates–

A sword presses at my throat.

"Stop it, Rideaux."

Julius stands behind me, a daunting presence, cold as steel.

"...Stealing my win, your Highness?"

Julius says nothing.

"Mom, hold on!"

The kid takes the opportunity to try and hide his mother, who’s crouched on the floor of the room. The voice of one who won't give up, and the desperate look on his face fill me with an overwhelming, irrational anger.

"Oh no you don’t!"

Minding the blade to my neck, I turn and jab my elbow into Julius' face.

"Gah!"

My blood splatters into the air, along with Julius' horrible glasses. Serves him right!

With Julius dealt with, I draw my surgical knives on Claudia.

"You'll regret that, you damn brat!"

In a screech of metal, my surgical knives are cut in halves with just one strike of Julius' sword. The severed ends fly into the air. What?! Julius’ Chromatus--

"Level 3?!"

Slam! The kid pushes his mother into the room and closes the door.

"I won't let you..."

Julius' dark eyes pierce through me, eyes that I remember fondly, tinged with despair. Yes, just like that! 

"You were the one who said it. ‘Everything will be destroyed anyway, so we have the freedom to do anything we want.’ Right? " I say cheerfully.

His eyes grow darker. That's right, don't forget, those are your-- those are the eyes of the Kresnik clan!

"Ahahaha! You should enjoy yourself, your Highness! Why don’t we get the two of them together and start with the mother, then save the boy for last--"

Julius punches me and my cheek explodes with pain. Ow! 

That’s good, though, isn’t it…? This is how it's supposed to be, don't you understand, Julius?

Julius punches me again.

You, who should have everything, have the same eyes that I do.

Julius punches me again.

How happy this makes me… Well, you'll never know, but…

Julius punches me again.

… Aren't you going overboard? My aspyrixis organs are rather delicate...

Julius punches me again.

Oh well… If I die, they'll just make you the "bridge" instead...

In my fading consciousness, I hear him saying something.

"I know. That's why... for Ludger... I will..."

Then there is the sound of the door being kicked in.

.

When I come to and open my eyes, it’s raining.

In the ruin of the apartment building's hallway corridor, the rain blows in from the broken window, and Julius' glasses that I'd knocked off of him are wet on the floor next to me. I myself am drenched, in either blood or rain. It doesn’t matter which. My body moves sluggishly.

I lay there, unsightly spread-eagle. Bruises, lacerations, and fractured bones. I’m ragged, but seemingly alive. However, just like the Prime Dimension and a Fractured one, it’s hard to tell the difference between the living world and the dead.

"We have confirmed the destruction of the target Fractured Dimension. Please submit your report by tomorrow."

A response from headquarters? I can only turn my head slightly. There, standing with a communication device, is Julius.

Destruction complete, huh? Of course. In a case like that, it's basically impossible to fail.

And yet, the left side of Julius' forehead, around his eyebrow, has been sliced deep. A stream of blood runs all the way to his chest, dyeing it red. The guy who beat me up couldn’t handle those lousy amateurs?!

"You've got to be kidding me!" I want to yell, but then I notice his cheeks are wet with something that isn't blood.

"I... no matter how many times... for you..."

There is only the sound of rain. Then, Julius looks up to the sky, and with a sad, shaking voice, murmurs like a prayer:

"But, I don't want anyone else to know what I did... Please forgive... your liar of a brother."

No way!

What the hell do you want forgiveness for?! We’re the ones forced to carry the burden of this godforsaken destiny, we're the ones who are forced to use this cursed power, we’re the ones who should be getting an apology!

But, Julius' eyes are already fixated on something different than mine.

"Hahaha... in the end... even you..."

As I sneer at him, something lukewarm trails down my cheek. I don’t know if it's rain or blood. I raise my injured arm, and smash his fallen glasses to pieces.

.

The following is an data excerpt from the Department of Dimensional Affairs:

Fractured Dimension No. F41BF

Specifications: Depth=209   Deviation=0.05   Rift=Trigleph

Destroyed in the year Primia 4293.

Agents in charge: Julius Will Kresnik/Rideaux Zek Rugievit

Divergence Catalyst: Claudia Il Kresnik (33 years old, female)

Reported by: Julius Will Kresnik

[cloeb9174]

It is a difficult time to be ambitious.

I spend a lot of time thinking about the future, my goals and aspirations. I have no clue what it will be like. There was a time where I could tell you exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up but what that idea once was has since been skewed by my dreams changing, altering with reality, and the unfortunate realization of the mundaneness of real life.

My current goals are more short term and way less exciting then the days of Broadway actress and President of the United States.

This week I want to get my laundry done, I want to wash my water bottles, not get too drunk at the party on Friday, and I want to win this weeks fraternity election, for Vice President of Community Service. 

Good goals in my opinion, though not very long term or necessarily all difficult. College has presented to me the idea that some things are more challenging than they seem when you are younger. Laundry and dishes for example, it has been days and days of me wishing I could sit down and get these things done. The issue is, as a self proclaimed “ambitious person” it is so much easier for me to sit down and imagine myself completing these tasks, not even just completing them, but excelling at them. I can imagine myself as the most productive person in the world. I will daydream of myself locking in and completing all of my chores with a smile on my face, excited to be a woman with Real Responsibilities. But by the time it is after class, or after dinner, or whenever I have designated these moments of pure ambition and productivity, I would rather sit down and imagine the way they will be completed much more efficiently or at a higher quality if I just wait until tomorrow to do them. 

As you can imagine this is a vicious cycle. 

My other goals are a bit loftier but all the same, I imagine an outside perspective will see them as trivial and not necessarily fit to be life goals. In my own defense I have no drinking experience prior to college so learning how to drink responsibly and have a great time is something I am still walking a tightrope on. I have had many nights where I have as much fun as I want, and the next day is torture. With the approaching fraternity formal I plan to drink a lot and  feel like a real person the next day. This is the challenge of a lifetime. My strategy will be lots of food, lots of water, as I think that is the only way I actually survived Brotherhood (frat getaway weekend)

My final challenge, the only one that may seem like a challenge to any outsider, winning VPCS. As I sit here and type this, one of my competitors is sitting a few chairs over discussing the position with the current reigning VP, this is something I did weeks ago, but never the less, he is gaining insight. I am running against three other people in my frat, Filip, Maddy and George. George has been in the frat longer than the rest of us as Filip, Maddy and I have only just pledged this semester. I am under the impression that this election is a real toss up with nobody being too sure who may win, that being said I know for a fact that George feels confident in the election, and while I have been showing confidence as well, in reality I have no idea how this will go and I am nervous as ever. Not to say I necessarily care the most about community service, or I should say I don't really care about being the Vice President of it, but this is all about a long term plan to be President of the fraternity my senior year here, and if I am going to secure that position, I need things on my resume that show I know the innerworkings, and an Executive Board position my freshman year will definitely give me a jump-start. 

I think that my presentation is good, I will be dressed well and I will speak clearly and confidently. I also have prior experience in running an organization as well as in organizing community service events. Everything points to me being a great candidate for this position, but its HARD. nobody knows who will win. \

Regardless the point is that this is all going on and at the same time, I work part time and I am seeking a promotion. I am a year ahead in my degree with not a single study skill and a debilitating inability to remember things. I fear that my ambition is larger than my ability and that is going to eventually destroy me. Everyone around me seems convinced that I am ridiculously overworked and I must be stressed but I honestly don’t feel stressed. Is there a way that I am and everyone knows it but me? 

I want to be respected, I want to be able to get shit done and I want to have fun, all at the same time. I don’t know if its actually possible, hell I’m writing this instead of doing homework. 

Wish me good luck, I cant lessen my ambition so the only choice is to try and catch up to it. 

[circus4apsycho8]

more than a hug. | the batter x reader

Fandom: OFF

Pairing: The Batter x Reader

Warnings: jealousy, cussing

It was no surprise to you that the Elsen were very cuddly creatures. Not only that, but they were very squishy, too. You absolutely loved hugging the cute little guys! Who wouldn’t? They were warm, soft, and sweet.

The first time you had hugged an Elsen was after Dedan had finished yelling at the one. You and your beloved Batter had stepped out of the barn before you found yourself rushing over to the pitiful thing. How could you not? The poor guy looked like he was about to cry.

You were quick to scoop him into your arms. “Hush now. He’s just a mean old man. You did nothing wrong.”

He accepted your hug and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You hear him sniffle a little bit. “Th-thank you…hhh…you’re too kind.”

“You’re welcome,” you mumbled, hugging him a little tighter. You heard your Puppet awkwardly shuffle around, causing a deep chuckle to emanate from your chest. A few seconds later, you set him down onto the ground. The little Elsen had a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Miss, th-thank you and your…uh…friend here for purifying the barns. Even if it didn’t get noticed by the Inspector, we appreciate it…” he teeters off when he notices Batter glaring at him. You smack the Batter’s shoulder and smile down at the Elsen.

“You’re very welcome! Take care of yourself, alright? I think it’s about time we got a move on.” Batter remains silent as you bid the Elsen goodbye.

“I will! Good luck with…whatever you’re doing!” the Elsen wishes before the Batter grabs your hand and drags you behind him.

“Thank you!” you yell, waving at him before turning back to your Puppet.

“Dude, chill. You can let me go now,” you comment. He reluctantly releases his grip on you.

“What was that about?” he demands, looking anywhere but at you.

“He was about to cry, Batter! He was scared! I couldn’t just leave him like that!” you retort, rolling your eyes.

“He would have gotten over it.”

You sigh. “Sometimes a little kindness goes a long way, Batter.”

…

The second time you were cuddly with an Elsen is when you and Batter got stuck in the shopping mall maze. Batter was getting extremely frustrated and you just wanted to get the hell out of that blue hellhole.

So, when you and Batter found a lone Elsen who had claimed to be lost, you declared it was time to take a break.

“I’m lost,” the Elsen said, “I could make a fire with the boxes...to ward off the ghosts...but...that would be too dangerous.”

You immediately began to answer, but Batter pulled you back outside for a moment.

“Don’t answer him.”

You roll your eyes, growing annoyed. He couldn’t just boss you around like that. “He’s lost, Batter. We need to help him get out of here!”

“He can find his way out by himself.”

“Batter. He’s scared. Can’t we bring him with us? It’s only temporary. I can do all the talking, too!” you push, trying to decipher how he’s feeling. Batter frowns at your words, and not for the first time, you wish you could see his eyes. “He might attract a Spectre.”

And it was then and there you knew there was something else wrong. Throughout all of your travels, Batter had strived to attract Spectres so he could Purify them. Hell, he’d even shouted out to them in the smoke mines! So why was he so worried about attracting them now? Especially since they were much weaker here, too?

“Since when are you worried about attracting Spectres?” you grill, folding your arms and narrowing your eyes.

He doesn’t answer for a moment, clearly caught off guard. Shaking your head, you look back up at him. “Look, what’s up with you, man? This isn’t like you.”

“I don’t want him to come with us,” he answers. You don’t buy it, but at the same time you know he’s not going to crack just yet.

With a sigh, you say: “I don’t think that’s all, but I know you won’t tell me. Can’t he just come with us? Who knows, he might be of help!”

He remains silent for a few more moments, then: “Fine.”

You grin before darting back into the room. The Elsen looks up at you hopefully.

“Come on, we can help you get out,” you coo, smiling.

“Wh-what about the ghosts?” he asks.

“We can protect you from them. Trust me,” you answer before offering your hand to him. He takes it gratefully before you pull him up.

“Thank you very much, ma’am,” he replies. You hear the Batter scoff quietly from behind you.

“You’re welcome,” you respond.

“Let’s go,” comes Batter’s voice as he nearly stomps out of the room. You roll your ryes. So much for taking a break.

“Ignore him. He’s always grumpy,” you inform, taking his small hand and pulling him behind you.

…

During your trek through the exasperating maze, you noticed Batter was considerably quieter and tenser. Eventually, you had decided that he would tell you about whatever was bothering whenever it suited him. He seemed to be angry too, if the way he was taking out whatever monstrosity showed itself. It was almost like he didn’t want to listen to you but did anyway. His stubbornness grew to the point where you just allowed him to do whatever he wanted with the battles, so you could comfort the Elsen.

And when, finally, you five reached the Judge, the Elsen quickly thanked you and scampered off while Batter spoke to the Judge. You waved at the unfortunate Elsen before turning back to the conversation at hand.

“Is not this publicity so effective and efficient whilst defying the basics of consumer marketing?” the Judge says once he sees you. The two of them are facing some kind of advertisement painted on the wall.

“For silkier hair: the meat fountains of Alma,” Batter reads, clearly unamused.

“Oh, you can read? Anyway, I am glad to have found you. Maybe you can help me unravel the mystery that fate has placed before me,” the Judge comments. He glances up at you and smiles before trotting over to you. You sit down cross-legged against the wall before he crawls onto your lap. Smiling, you pet his soft fur.

“It turns out that my brother has been living in this area for many years. He has a special affinity for colors of the cool kind. Unfortunately, I have so far failed to cross his path. I have tried to betake myself to the roof of the library, where he resides. However, I found the door closed. Even the long hours of intensive, repeated meowing and compulsive scratching did not do a thing.”

“Aw, I’m sorry Judge. Is there anything we can do to help?” you question, scratching him behind his ear. He mewls in response, flipping over onto his back in a silent request for tummy rubs.

“My request is as follows: if at the bend of a corridor you happen to see Valerie, give him my greetings.”

You nod. “Will do.”

“Okay,” The Batter agrees. “Puppeteer, I’m going to go speak to Zacharie for a moment. Do you mind waiting here while I do so?”

You’re mildly surprised, but you agree anyway. “Uh, no, go ahead.”

“Thank you.” He saunters away, trusty bat in hand with Alpha and Omega following him.

You blink. “That was weird.”

“Eccentric of the Batter indeed,” agrees The Judge, “what do you think is amiss?”

“He’s been acting very…out of character lately,” you muse, “I’m not entirely sure what’s going on.” Is he mad at you? Should you be doing something differently? If so, then why isn’t he just talking to you about it? “I wonder if he’s mad at me.”

“I highly doubt that. Your beloved Puppet could never be angry with you for long,” The Judge responds.

You shake your head, causing the Judge to glance up at you. “I don’t know, Judge. If I did something wrong, he just…he needs to speak up. I guess I should ask him about that, huh?”

The Judge nods. “If you truly believe so, then communication is the sole solution.”

“Alright, then,” you sigh, sifting your fingers through his soft fur.

A few minutes later, Batter reappears in the room, the Add Ons at his side. It was then you realized he didn’t buy anything because you were the one holding the credits.

“You good?” you question as the Judge reluctantly slides off of your lap.

“Yes. We should go,” he answers, although you catch a glimpse of his cheeks, which are…wait, is he blushing? You wonder what the odd merchant had said this time around.

Before you left, however, you approached the masked merchant standing idly behind the counter.

“Ah, buenos dias, dearest Puppeteer. How could I be of assistance?”

“Could I see what you have on you?” you ask. He chuckles.

“Of course, belle femme,” he replies, showing you his wares. You’d grown used to the odd nicknames he gave you.

You ended buying a few Fortune Tickets and some meat, placing all purchased items in your inventory before bidding Zacharie goodbye. Before you can move away, however, the merchant catches your hand in his. You freeze, watching as he lifts his mask ever-so-slightly before he brings the back of your hand to his lips.

“It’s always a pleasure to serve this little ragtag team of yours. Sois prudente, jolie fille.” Releasing your hand, he chuckles at your shocked expression, smirking as he glances at your stunned Puppet.

“Th-thank you,” you stutter before Batter places his hand behind your back and pushes you out of the door.

Once you’re outside, you blink a few times before you’re able to speak again. “Dude. What. The. Fuck?”

Batter shakes his head, probably both at your choice of language and recent events. “Language. I don’t know why he’s…” he sighs.

“He’s so weird. Wait…aren’t you fluent in French? What did he say?” you question.

Batter huffs. “The first nickname was ‘beautiful woman’. The second one was ‘Be safe, pretty girl’.”

Your cheeks grow even redder upon hearing the translation. “W-what? Really?”

He nods, remaining silent as the two of you continue to the park.

“Puppeteer…” he starts, voice soft.

“Yeah?” you ask, looking up at him. He avoids your gaze blatantly.

“I…” he trails off before continuing, “I think we should rest in Zone 0 before going to the park.”

You nod, the exhaustion of getting through the maze catching up with you. “Agreed.”

…

Once you two have reached the abandoned Zone, Batter hurriedly guides you past Zacharie, despite his greeting, and ushers to the upper levels.

“Which floor would you like to stay on?” he questions.

“Here’s fine,” you respond, sliding onto the floor. He hesitates before sitting next to you and dropping his bat onto the floor. You lean your head on his shoulder, causing him to tense up a bit before relaxing.

You hear him sigh again. “I’ve upset you, haven’t I?” His voice sounds uncharacteristically sullen for a man as stoic as he usually is.

“Kind of. I just wish you would talk to me. What’s going on with you, Batter? You’ve been acting weird lately.”

He heaves yet another sigh as you straighten your neck and shift. Batter looks up at you while you move. You end up straddling him with your hands on his shoulders. He stiffens at your gentle touches. From this angle, you can finally see his eyes.

You can’t tell exactly what color his eyes are, so you reach up before grasping the brim of his hat. He catches your wrist gently before you can pull it off all the way.

“Do you mind?” you whisper. “I really want to see your eyes.”

His grip on your wrist loosens before he removes it completely. “Go ahead.”

You smile at him in a silent thank-you before you remove it.

His eyes are a pretty shade of amber. They hold a kind of exhaustion that could only be obtained by fighting for something one couldn’t accomplish.

“Your eyes are beautiful,” you comment, smiling, “why didn’t you want me to see them?”

He bites his lip for a moment before looking away. “I am not entirely sure. I guess I just…don’t want you to see my…my real ones.”

“Your real ones?” you question, tilting your head slightly.

“Yes,” he confirms, placing a hand on your cheek. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“You won’t, Batter. Will you show me, please?” you ask, enjoying the feeling of his hands.

“Very well,” he says, “will you close your eyes for a moment?”

You obey quietly, pressing a hand against his. His hands are much bigger than yours as well as drier and calloused from using his bat so much.

“You may open your eyes now.”

Upon opening them, you find that his amber orbs have been replaced with four eyes. The irises are a deep shade of burgundy while the rest of the eye is a pretty crimson color.

“Whoa,” you breathe, removing your hand in order to trace the skin around his eyes. Even though it’s definitely unnatural for a human, he still looks handsome. “Those are even cooler!”

“You think so?” he questions, still unsure.

“Yes. I mean…I’ve never met anyone with red eyes before. I…I think they look even better than your other ones,” you confess, smiling shyly at him.

He studies your face for a moment before a teensy little smile lights up his face. “Thank you, Puppeteer. Thank you.”

You chuckle. “That’s what you get for having a pretty face. Now,” you lean back a little. “What’s been going on with you?”

His little blush is back, which almost makes you giggle. “Well…it has to do with what I talked to Zacharie about earlier.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I…whenever I saw you hugging the Elsen or just…being affectionate with someone else, it made me angry. I wasn’t sure what exactly why I was; after all, you were just trying to be comforting. I knew Zacharie would have an answer, and he did. He informed me that…I should tell you. I wasn’t sure how. Eventually, he told me that…I was…jealous.”

You chuckle. “If you wanted a hug you should’ve just asked,” you respond, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself to him. Burying your face into the crook of his neck, you smile as you feel him return it with a relieved smile. He loosely wraps his strong arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You note that he smells like…bubblegum? Not just any bubblegum, but the kind that’s sort of stringy? Like the baseball gum. You chuckle, inhaling his scent.

Suddenly, he slides his hands up to your neck and he gently pushes you back a little bit, rubbing the tips of his thumbs over your jawline. You move your hands to his chest, right over his heart. It steadily beat beneath your fingertips. After that, your gaze sinks down to see his lips: they’re dry and chapped, but still so, so kissable.

The Batter releases a grunt before he pulls you forward, and your lips collide. He’s gentle and slow at first, testing the waters. When the two of you break apart for a moment, you go in for another one again; this time around, it gets a little more heated.

His hands slide back down to your waist, where he pulls your torso to his. You find your hands tangled in his ivory white hair. You feel him running his hands along your curves, to the small of your back, then retreating to your waist again.

You’re pulled back by the need for air. As you gaze into his red eyes, you recollect just why you love this man. He had protected you, tried to help you when no one else would. Even when he did get a little snappy, it was because he wasn’t exactly sure what to make of both the situation and his own feelings. It was there when you were looking at him, you realized he felt the same way.

He breathes your name, brushing a hand against your cheek again. You can tell he’s at a lost for words.

“I had a feeling you wanted more than a hug.”

[tinylittleobsessions]

"Narcos: Mexico" characters as zodiac signs

So... I did a little something here, guys. I wanted to start by saying I don't really take astrology THAT seriously in real life, but I think it's a fun way to analyse or categorize characters - I see it as something like sorting them into Hogwarts houses, or maybe defining their chart alignment (should I do that too, maybe?). I find it pretty useful when I'm creating characters for my stories or RPGs, lol. 😂  So this is meant to be FUN, okay? Don't take it that seriously.  😌

Some things I would like to clarify:

1 - The rules I set to myself were: I chose 12 of my favorite/more relevant characters, and I did my best to associate each one of them to each one of the zodiac signs. So, OF COURSE, sometimes there were two or three characters that could be associated to the same sign; or signs that I thought weren't clearly related to any of the characters specifically. For example, I could easily see Pacho as a Leo, but Ramón is FIRMLY a Leo to me, so that sign was already taken. 😂 So I placed Pacho in Scorpio. I could see Miguel as a Scorpio or a Capricorn, but, as I decided Pacho was Scorpio, I placed Miguel in Capricorn. Isabella could easily be a Leo or a Scorpio, but those were already taken, so she ended up being a Libra; and so on. Cancer and Pisces were particularly tricky, so I tried to find specific traits from specific characters that I thought could justify my choices. 😬

2 - I focused mainly on characters from season 3, because it's still fresh in my mind. But, of course, I couldn't leave characters like Miguel or Rafa out of it, so they're here too.

3 - I don't know and I don't care about the birthdays or zodiac signs of the real people behind the characters of the show. I focused basically on the personality traits the characters have; and also, of course, on a lot of headcanon, lol. [for my headcanon references, you can blame the amazing @thesolotomyhan​ , who is an incredible writer and the sweetest person around ❤️; and also @narcosmx​ , who is super creative and writes amazingly well too 😌]

So let's get into it!

Aries - David Barrón

Action, speed and decision

Brave and confident

Objective

Determined, persistent

Spirit of leadership

Full of energy

Physically resistant

The "warrior of the zodiac"

Taurus - Benjamín Arellano Félix

Rational, thinks (sometimes too much) before acting

Reliable

Patient and helpful

Hardworking

Likes stability

Stubborn

Loyal and protective

Caring and kind to the ones he loves

Romantic

Gemini - Ismael "El Mayo" Zambada

Rational

Versatile, adaptable and unpredictable

Quickly gets rid of things that don't satisfy him

Sweet talker

Good at negotiations

Undecided

Doesn't like long-term commitments; challenges authority figures

Charming

Cancer - Joaquín "El Chapo" Guzmán

Observant

Emotional and sensitive

Dramatic and a bit cranky

Needs to feel important

Attached to family and to his mother

Dedicated and loyal

Sometimes he forgives, but he never forgets

Diplomatic, but very manipulative

Leo - Ramón Arellano Félix

Vain, show-off

Proud and authentic

Fashionista

Loyal and extremely protective

Charismatic, cheerful; loves social events

Creative

Temperamental and aggressive

Dramatic and authoritarian

Generous; good heart (despite it all, lol)

Virgo - Enedina Arellano Félix

Rational and cautious

Objective and practical

Organized (mainly with finances), detail-oriented, efficient

Needs to feel useful and productive

Honest

Likes to be right about everything and can be a bit overbearing

Attentive to everything and everyone

Extremely loyal to those she loves; shows her love in a practical way, through attitudes more than words

Suspicious

Libra - Isabella Bautista

Intelligent

Communicative and diplomatic

Charming and elegant

Appreciation for aesthetics, good looks and everything that is beautiful and luxurious

Likes to be treated with politeness and respect

Does not like criticism

Anxious and impatient

Indecisive and influenceable

Scorpio - Hélmer "Pacho" Herrera

Intense

Seductive

Self-confident and self-sufficient

Intuitive, observant and suspicious

Demanding and controlling

Vengeful

Determined and ambitious

Loyal, dedicated and generous towards the ones he loves

Sagittarius - Rafael "Rafa" Caro Quintero

Idealistic

Confident

Funny; loves parties and social events

Sincere and spontaneous

Bold and adventurous

Free spirit

Restless, impatient and impulsive

Tends to exaggerate or to overreact

Capricorn - Miguel Ángel Félix Gallardo

Practical and objective

Realist

Ambitious

Patience and determination to pursue long-term goals

Discreet

Intelligent

Mature and independent

Stubborn

Serious (and even grumpy)

Aquarius - Amado Carrillo Fuentes

Idealist, revolutionary, a rebel

Modern, open-minded; wants to do what no one has done yet

Sincere and communicative

Individualistic

Loves freedom and lives by his own rules

Hates any kind of "limitations"

Curious

Creative

Pisces - Walt Breslin

Worried

Intuitive

Helpful and trustworthy

Protective

Humble

Fair

Needy

Anxious

"Old soul"

[teamfreewill56-blog]

Love Unconditional

Thank you to justheretoaskandread for my first request! I hope you enjoy it!

Kyojuro RengokuxReader, SFW, Angst

The air hissed as his brilliant red blade cut through it in an overarching sweep, he moved straight into another strike. Kyojuro’s eyebrows knitted together in focus.

“I can’t do this anymore, Kyojuro.”

He changed his footing and moved into Rising Scorching Sun, no matter how he moved or pushed his thoughts he couldn’t remove the ugly, sickly burning sensation coiling in his stomach.

She was being unfair.

“I’m being unfair?! What’s unfair is that I’m supposed to be emotionally safe and open with you but you can’t be with me!”

Nothing could be done about those feelings, they didn’t help anything, why couldn’t she understand that? He moved faster, urging the rage to flow through his arms and out of his fingertips. It stayed trapped in his chest.

She placed the engagement ring with a ruby and diamond intertwined in a flame on the countertop, directly atop the gold wedding ring it had been carefully crafted to nestle against.

“If I’m going to only be allowed to see the same face that you show everyone else, then being your wife is a bit of a lie isn’t it? Because clearly I’m no different than anyone else for you.”

The rings were nestled in his breast pocket, every sweep of his arm allowed him to feel their presence weighing against his heart. He just didn’t want her pity, he didn’t need it, he was strong, and he could bear anything if he focused on the right things. Why was she wanting him to focus on negative feelings? That never accomplished anything! Why was she upset that he only wanted to show her his best self?

“Kyojuro?”

The Flame Hashira stopped, mid strike, his sword above his head, he lowered the katana, turning to the porch and swiftly bowed, lying his bare katana next to him. “Forgive me Master, I didn’t mean to disturb you!” He had been so deep in his head he hadn’t noticed the door open or sensed the Corp leader approach.

He smiled, “Not at all, but I thought you had gone home for the evening?”

“Yes! But I thought I might come back and train with some of my fellow Pillars, it seems no one is here so I decided I might practice a while before heading home!”

“Yes I think the other children have all gone to their own residences.” Kagaya confirmed, he took a couple steps forward sat on the edge of the porch, Kyojuro watched him to make sure he didn’t stray too close to the edge, but he seemed to know where it was, he kneeled right before the edge, “Come sit with me my child.”

Kyojuro blinked and straightened, he sheathed his katana in a smooth motion and walked over to the porch, he sat beside Kagaya, allowing his feet to dangle over the sides.

“Why don’t you tell me what is bothering you?”

“Nothing master, I’m quite well! There is nothing to worry about!” Kyojuro answered confidently with a convincing smile, wishing it would work inwardly on his agitated heart.

Kagaya’s smile softened, “I see.” He stared at Kyojuro with his pale sightless eyes, the Flame Pillar felt himself starting to uncoil, similarly to how Y/N’s soft eyes would do. His throat tightened and he looked away. “Can I ask what you have there in your breast pocket? I could hear it clicking.”

Kyojuro’s smile fell, he reached into the pocket and pulled out the two rings, holding them carefully between his fingers, “They’re Y/N’s wedding and engagement rings. It seems she no longer wishes to have me as her husband. Perhaps it is for the best, we have been fighting a lot recently…Maybe we are not a good match.” He blinked hard, trying to fight back the warmth building in his eyes.

“Maybe, or maybe you are being pushed to grow closer together. What are you two fighting about?” Kagaya asked, before Kyojuro could question what he meant.

“She says that I am not open with her, but we communicate frequently! I find myself getting frustrated with her when she asks if something is wrong, because nothing is, and I don’t understand why she wants there to be something wrong! I don’t understand why she wants to pity me.”

“But when you do feel the pains of frustration or sadness, do you tell her?”

Kyojuro paused, looking out across the yard, “I don’t.”

“Hm.” Kagaya was silent for a moment and then asked, “Kyojuro, when I send you on a mission with one of the other children do you think it is because I believe you are pitiful?”

“No at all Master!”

“So why do you think I ask you to go together?”

“Because two of us can accomplish the task faster and more efficiently than one, especially if we are working in unison!”

Kagaya closed his eyes in a smile, “Exactly, and so you can protect each other, do you think Mitsuri is weak or pitiful when you assist her?”

“No.”

“So why do you help her?”

“Because I care about her, I want her to be safe and successful.”

“Do you not believe Y/N wants the same for you? We all have many burdens we must bear, but something beautiful about having a loved one is that they can help us bear our load, even if we don’t need the help, allowing them to help us gives them a chance to support and show their love for us. Our negative feelings are just as important as our happy ones, it is a wonderful trait of humanity and allows us to improve.” He touched Kyojuro’s arm, “I think Y/N just wants to be able to love all the sides that you have to offer, and to be a place of rest for you. The same way you do for her.”

Kyojuro looked down at his hand, “But Master those sides are…”

“Unbecoming, yes.” He nodded, “But have you not also seen her not so favorable sides?”

A small smile slipped upon his lips as he thought about a few choice times, “Yes.”

“And yet you love her all the same, don’t you?”

He closed his noon-sun colored eyes, “Yes.”

Kagaya smiled and they both looked up as Amane came up behind them with a wrapped package. She kneeled down, “Here Kyojuro, take these. I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Thank you very much!” Kyojuro stood and gave her a bow. “Master, will you excuse me? I have a mission I haven’t yet seen to.”

“Of course my child. Give Y/N my regards.”

“I will!”

Sakura petals spun as they floated on the calmly flowing river, Y/N sat on the pier beneath it’s towering branches. She let her tears leave her to become part of the river. Dusk was settling in now, the air cooling down quickly, she didn’t feel it. Her throat felt raw and as much as she wished to let out her anger it wasn’t there, she had a practice sword beside her, but it laid there collecting petals. She didn’t want to leave Kyojuro, or for him to leave her, but she couldn’t keep leaving herself vulnerable to someone who wasn’t willing to be vulnerable back, it wasn’t fair and it was weighing her down. ‘I want to help him, I want to be with him but how am I supposed to do that if he doesn’t let me? Is there really nothing I can do?’ The tears ran faster at the thought that there might be nothing, that it really could just be done.

“Y/N?”

She lifted her head and turned, mentally cursing as more tears fell seeing him. Because she was so glad to see him and yet it was an immediate punch to her gut.

Kyojuro quickly started towards her, wanting to stop her tears before remembering himself and stopping, his face darkened with shame. He closed his eyes and gripped the knot of the cloth Amane had wrapped the plates in, he looked into her eyes and she saw pain just running in wild circles in his irises, “Can we talk?”

“Yeah.” She sniffed and faced the front. Kyojuro quickly walked over to her, sitting down beside her he set the package on his other side and faced her, gently cupping her cheek in his hand he wiped away the tears with his thumb. He was terrified she would push his hand away and was relieved when all she did was open her eyes. He softly rubbed her cheekbone and ran his thumb down the side of her cheek, “Is...is getting a divorce really what you want dearest?” She put her hand over his and opened her eyes. 

“No Kyojuro, I don’t. I love you very much and I want to be with you, but it hurts seeing you smiling and acting like something isn’t bothering you, like negative feelings aren’t allowed. Do you really expect me to believe that you don’t miss your mom? Or that it didn’t hurt when Shinjurou dismissed you becoming the Flame Hashira?”

He lowered his gaze, “To be honest, I don’t allow myself to think about those things. But when you say it hurts you to see me do that it makes me feel like you think I’m weak, that you think I should be pitied. So it upsets me when I tell you I’m fine but you keep pushing the matter.”

She shook her head, resting her other hand on his knee, “Kyojuro I don’t think you’re weak. I don’t think you’re pitiful either, and I’m sorry I made you feel that way. That’s not what I wanted, and I shouldn’t push you when you say you’re fine, that’s selfish.”

“I know you don’t. And it is partly my fault, if I just talked to you then you wouldn’t have to push me about the matter.” Kyojuro said softly, “I’m just not used to expressing my negative feelings, and I don’t like how I act when I feel them, I don’t feel like me.”

“They’re not you Kyojuro, they’re just parts of you, and they don’t cancel out the good parts.” She ran her fingers through his bangs, “And I won’t stop loving you just because you complain or something is bothering you.”

“Thank you dearest.” He caught her hand, turning it upward he pressed soft kisses to the middle of her wrist and the center of her palm, he looked up at her and put his forehead against hers. Kyojuro reached into his pocket and pulled out the rings, holding them up to her. “Y/N, will you do me the honor of being the amazing Mrs. Kyojuro Rengoku?”

She smiled and gave him a soft kiss, “I will.”

[cyborg-franky]

Thanks for putting this event on and creating amazing content! Happy 2k followers, you deserve it and can't wait to see you hit more milestones!!!💞🎉

Nickname: Rae

Door Number: 29 or 3

What will you be wearing on the date? Brown leather pants, cream colored top, over sized denim jacket if it's chilly, dark brown Chelsea boots, and some gold jewelry. for sure alot of rings and layered small necklaces, probably wearing an opal around my neck. hair would either just be naturally straight and down or in 2 messy space buns. Wouldn't have a purse but would have my wallet with the essentials in a pocket. I'd wear a sugary sweet perfume but nothing too strong.

Booze or sober?: booze, I don't like to get too carried away but it for sure helps ease my anxiety and be myself quicker. If I feel comfortable enough I may have more than a little 🤷‍♀️

Your ideal first date: food then a karaoke bar sounds like a fun night out💃 I'd like the idea of something music related as long as there's chances to actually talk to each other.

Three personality traits about you:

artistic/creative, love making things and problem solving. I'm the kinda person who rearranges a room spontaneously, gets an idea for a painting and does it, or gets annoyed at not being efficient and finds the best way to do something.

timid/shy at first but love being outgoing when I'm comfortable with someone

silly/goofy/making a others laugh

Three things you look for in a partner:

make me laugh whether it's through jokes or actions

curiosity and open mindedness

someone with a soft side. don't have to be a huge softy on the outside but for sure knows how to take care of their partner

Thee dislikes:

HATE super judgemental people

I really don't like when I'm telling a story/ talking and I can tell they've lost interest. not in the way that you can get distracted because alot is going on around us, but in the way that we're in conversation and they just clearly don't care about what I have to say.

poor communication skills. it's ok to be awkward but I can't tolerate being lied to/ keeping secrets/ cheating. TBH I'd be ok with open relationships but it has to be a mutual conversation.

Thank you so much ;-; I am happy to be here, I am still shocked even though its been like a week and aaaah <3<3

--

You really hope tonight’s date will be fun, you can’t go on anothercrappy date. You placed your favourite opal necklace around your neck, brushing back your hair, smiling at your reflection before you head downstairs.

You slipped on your oversized jacket and glanced at the time, wondering what sort of person you’d meet tonight. Grabbing your keys, you set off for your adventure. Getting to the busy street and looking around for the building you see the bright neon’s that lit up the street.

And you saw your date..

- Queen was stood outside smoking a cigar, wearing fancy shades even though it was nighttime.

- He was dressed to kill, white and black stripes, very bold, black leather jacket and black boots that broke up the stripes.

- He saw you and grinned around his cigar, finishing up, stubbing it out on the ground and sliding his shades up.

- Long blond hair in a braid, you were a little jealous of how soft it looked.

- “Babe, you look great, Rae yeah? You are a knockout.” Queen grinned and gave you finger guns.

- You had to admit you liked his energy, he at least wasn’t boring, and his sort of personality would help pull you out of your shell.

- “Queen’s the name and you are about to have the night of your life!” He laughed and placed a hand on the small of your back leading you into the brightly lit up place.

- You realised it was a karaoke bar and you smiled in delight, excited for it.

- He bought you both a drink and you walked over to a table, someone singing on stage who wasn’t doing a good job, not at all.

- You pulled a face when the person singing tried and failed to hit any sort of note.

- “Oh wow, he stinks huh babe?” Queen said with a chuckle, taking a swig of his drink.

- It was as loud and bright looking as he was.

- At least he wasn’t being a typical man and trying to only order ‘butch’ drinks you thought as he sipped his bright blue drink.

- “Oh yeah, I mean.. it’s all fun.. I don’t think I’m that good either..”

- “Babe, you’ll kill it, I got this feeling.” He said with a nod and pulled out the book that had all the songs listed.

- You both looked it over, he wrote down something on the paper before handing it to a waitress.

- “Need more liquid courage first?” he asked when he noticed you not writing anything down.

- “Just need a drink or two, I’ll see how it goes when you go up.”

- You both talked for a bit, your table far enough away that you could have conversations and not bother anyone.

- He was full of life, he also made you laugh.

- Joke after joke after joke, his comedy so observational and fast.

- Okay, you didn’t think you would get on with him as much as you were.

- After another drink or two you started to loosen up.

- It was his turn to be on the stage, you watched, clapping as everyone else did.

- And wooooow you did not expect the performance you got.

- He was brilliant at singing, he put on such a show for everyone.

- People clapped and cheered for him, and he was absorbing the attention, living for it. Showing how passionate and charismatic he could be.

- You were very impressed.

- He came back and you just stared at him “Wow,” you said, and he nodded “Yeah, I have that effect babe.” He winked at you.

- You thought he would be a hard act to follow but you still went up, and he was your biggest cheerleader.

- The night went on, you guys had a drink, ordered food, talked more, even did a few songs together.

- It had been a blast.

- You’d never met someone like him before.

- Standing outside he pulled out another cigar, lighting it up and watching as you admired the streetlights.

- “There’s a cool club down the street, I’m friends with the owner, we’d get in no problem, fancy a wild night babe?” he asked with a quirked brow.

REBLOG to carry on having a wild night, I can assure you the club isn’t a strip club so there’s no fear of seeing Kaido in a thong, unless you’re into that kinda thing and then I’m sure Queen can hook you up ooooor are you going to go home like a damn coward and I’ll just keep him instead?

[stillgirlfrommars]

you’ve got news

So, I already talked about this with @missmorwen​ and I know I don’t have the time to draw and make an actual comic out of it, BUT I cannot stop thinking about this SamSteve-post-engdame-fix-it story (with a dash of BuckyNat, ‘cause that’s just who I am) which is kinda crack and very rom-com (a bit you’ve got mail) inspired and doesn't make much sense, because... PLOT HOLES but * sigh * I kinda wanna share at least the idea so - bear with me:

So, instead of Nat dying, Steve sacrifices his Captain America powers on Vormir and comes back as Skinny!Steve and starts running a political blog called you’ve-got-news in secret, uncovering all kinds of shady business/corruption and becoming the bane of existence of every politician and greedy CEO - but it takes a while for his friends to figure out it's him who’s running that increasingly popular blog (which the new Captain America is actually a big fan of ;)). And the way that happens is as follows:

So, Steve almost died at the end of Endgame. The idiot (affectionate) of course still wanted to fight Thanos, but even with Thor’s Hammer, he took some serious, serious injuries which led to a tough talk with Sam, Nat and Bucky

Like I imagine, that while Steve would not have any regrets whatsoever about giving up his powers, he would still need some time to come to terms with the fact that he won’t be able to participate in the action like he used to. Even though, he actually wants and knows... it’s time to ... start something new, it’s still a process. So, there he is, trying to figure out who he is without the mantle of Captain America, re-defining the way he can and will fight against bullies in the future (cause there is no way he’s gonna stop that).

And to the surprise of everyone, Steve actually doesn’t press for participating in Avenger-style-fights anymore (he still does some of the practical mission planning and shit like that) but most importantly, he starts taking up new hobbies, like cooking or old hobbies like drawing - and he seems happier than he has in a long time, and yeah maybe it’s a bit too good to be true, if Sam starts thinking about it. But, hey, Steve finally seems to be happy so -

Meanwhile, Sam still becomes the new Captain America, and Steve is there while he is adjusting, finding himself in that role. He is there when Sam needs to talk things through, and yeah, it would still be a process like in tfatws series, but ... a little bit less alone, I guess. 

So, the new Captain America fights alongside Nat and Bucky - and it’s good, they work surprisingly well together, but also: those two are stuck right in the middle of a weird assassin!flirting situation (I’m imagening a lot of veeery intense staring at the other while cleaning their weapons or beating someone up, innuendos en masse, dark humour etc.). And frankly, it’s getting on Sam's nerves because they seem to be so oblivious about the whole damn thing. Neither of them is actually admitting to anything, no, they are too busy teasing him about the ‘crush’ he has developed on that mysterious dude who is running the famous political-youve-got-news-blog that gained momentum a while ago and is currently keeping all the corrupt politicians and CEOs on their toes.

So, yeah, Sam might have been caught a couple of times reading or reciting from that blog because - it has actually turned into a pretty efficient way of mobilising people to demonstrate for change and it did give him some tip-offs in regards to who the bad guy really was and yeah. But it’s not a crush... Sam just really likes reading the blog posts, okay. That dude seems pretty cool and they share the same moral code, so... whatever.

What Nat and Bucky and Steve don't know (and he’ll never tell them), is that Sam is actually kiiiiinda already frequently talking with the guy who runs the blog. Anonymously on both ends, of course (because for good reasons both of them are pretty careful about giving away information concerning their identities). And in a way that whole anonymity-thing makes it a lot easier to talk about stuff he finds harder to admit to the people who he knows directly. So, you could say, blog-guy has kinda become Sam's internet friend, but not his crush, no.

Honestly, the crush he is more concerned about (that he also isn't planning on telling anyone about any time soon, cause Bucky would just tease him and Nat would start scheming) is, well, it’s Steve. Because, damn, he likes their get-togethers a lot, the meals Steve's cooking are honestly to die for. They watch baseball together, they do museum-trips... And the way they can talk about (almost) everything... He just feels understood and... yeah, loved (maybe not in the way that he wishes for, but still) and it’s nice to see Steve so happy and okay, maybe it’s getting a bit out of control because Sam took Steve with him to visit Sarah and his nephews and Sarah kinda saw right through his act of ‘hey, this is my best friend’ and ‘what do you mean, I don’t have feelings- okay. Yeah maybe I do’ and told him in no uncertain terms to fucking do something about it and get his shit together.

The thing is, he’s got it bad. But Sam is also torn, because this is the best fucking friendship he's ever had and he does not want to jeopardise that. So, in the end he ends up talking about this with his Internet friend... about how he kinda has this huge crush on his best friend, and his Internet friend is like, ‘TELL ME ABOUT IT, big fucking same here UGH. And I feel like I’m being SO obvious about it all. It’s honestly embarrassing. My other best friend keeps teasing me ‘bout it and tells me to just go for it, but that guy still hasn’t managed to ask out the girl he’s interested in, so, what does he know, right?’. And Sam laughs - at least he’s not alone.

So the days go by (Sam’s pining only increases, Steve took him to a wine tasting the other night and he almost... in his drunk state... almost... but he didn’t) until one day, while blog-guy and Sam are chatting, all of the sudden the blog-guy is like, ‘Shit, I think someone's breaking into my apartment’ and then like, ‘Okay, yes they are’ - and Sam's like, ‘call 911′, and blog-guy writes back ‘mmh think I can handle them’ (and Sam’s like ‘WTF... I know way too many people with zero regards for their own well-being, myself included’)

But then blog-guy is not answering anymore, so Sam frantically calls up Nat who rushes to his flat and Sam says: ‘You need to find out where that IP adress is located ASAP - the dude with that famous blog is in danger.’

And Nat does that multitasking thing where she’s working on the problem while ribbing Sam about the fact that, apparently, Captain America's Internet bestie is that famous blog dude, and- 'Are you sure it’s not a crush?'

But after another minute, Nat sighs and is like, ‘I can't find the location, this thing is encrypted af, it’s impossible.’ Suddenly, she notices something about the setup of the encryption and-, ‘Hang on a second, it was me who set this up for someone back in 2011.′ And as she slips on her jacket, she says to Sam, ‘Come on. I know where we have to go!’

So they make their way to what turns out is Steve's (!!!!) apartment and find him in the middle of a fight against over half a dozen heavily armed people, and yeah - he’s actually doing pretty okay for himself ‘cause he outsmarted a couple of them, but also- they kind of outnumber him, so Nat and Sam get to work.

And Sam doesn't even have time to fully register what that means re:blog-guy until they have successfully defeated the bad guys. After that's done, Steve is like, ‘Thanks guys, but how the hell did you know I was in trouble? Nat... you didn’t bug my apartment, did you??’

And Nat tstsk and then she just laughs because this is priceless and OF CoURSE it is Steve who is behind that blog... (she's a bit mad at herself for not figuring it out sooner, and a bit sad that Steve didn't feel like he could tell her, and that he assumes she has is flat bugged but, also,... kinda impressed.) But then she looks at him with a warm smile on her face, shaking her head, saying, ‘No, I didn’t, Steve.’ Her gaze wanders back and forth between Steve and Sam and she humms- 'That actually makes so much sense oh my god.' So, she leaves them ‘to talk’ ;) and for Sam to explain everything’ - and then it’s just the two of them.

And Sam does explain everything and is like, 'So you're that Blog dude, erm...' He's scratching the back of his neck, cheeks flushed, 'Turns out, we've been talking for months over that blog of yours. I'm (insert-Sam’s-username-here).'- and Steve's eyes go wide and you can literally see him processing that information right then and there and he's sputtering out a light laugh, and he's like 'Hang on a second... I... umm, okay, I gotta ask. So, that best friend you've got a crush on...' Well, it’s now or never -'Is you, yeah..', Sam admits and starts, 'and....' They both laugh again and Steve nods and just says- 'yeah, it’s you, too.'

And then they kiss and yaaay, happy ending!!!

And then the epilogue would be about them having a nice dinner with Bucky and Nat a couple of months later, and the whole time, Sam and Steve are being very much in loveTM. The three guys are standing in the kitchen, while Natasha is in the bathroom and Bucky's making a funny quib about how sickeningly cute Sam and Steve are together - and Sam, well, Sam just raises his eyebrows and is like, 'You know what, you're not allowed to say anything bout that, you and Romanoff have been acting waaaaay worse over the last year. At least we got our shit together in the end, what's your excuse, you are obviously absolutely in love with her!', and of course Nat chooses that exact moment to enter the room, hand on Bucky's waist, dropping a kiss on his cheek and is like, 'What do you mean, we've been dating for 6 months?' And Steve laughs and Sam groans bc .... he loves his friends, he does, but clearly, CLEARLY they ALL have to work on their communication skills!

The End.

[softtrobed]

hm would you write a fic about annie coming out to jeff? i love their friendship and brother/sister relationship :)

thank you so much for this request! i honestly got a bit emotional writing this. annie coming out to jeff is something that can honestly be so personal...

there's some focus on annie coming out to other members of the study group, but it does mainly focus on her and jeff. i hope that's okay :)

Annie had decided to come out to her friends in the same way she tended to do most things: efficiently and beginning by making a list.

Well, she supposed the most efficient way would be to come out to all of them at the same time, but this way would be more effective in the long run. She knew they’d all have very different reactions, different questions to ask, different levels of surprise, so if they all found out at once, most likely no one’s questions would get answered (not just the ones she would politely ignore), the group would start talking over each other, someone would yell at Pierce and it would almost be forgotten what the point of the conversation even was. This way, although it would take longer, everyone would hopefully be satisfied.

She told Troy and Abed first. That was the easiest, as because the two were a couple, she had no doubt they’d be accepting. Additionally, in the time they’d lived together, she had a feeling they’d already picked up on some of her not-so-straight behaviours: the girl-crushes she formed on the pretty women in the movies they watched together and her disinterest or non-romantic affection towards the men she knew she was ‘supposed’ to swoon over; the way she giggled and twirled her hair while on the phone with a certain girl from Greendale she’d recently reconnected with; the one time she didn’t delete her search history from the apartment computer and Abed may or may not have seen her recent searches, which included among others, ‘am I gay test,’ ‘comphet meaning’ and ‘can you be straight but think girls are really pretty and rarely have long lasting feelings for men?’

She’d come out to them over breakfast one day, and they basically had the best response she could have wished for. They were totally cool with it, but didn’t make it a big deal. They joked about how she was no longer the token straight roommate, she hugged both of them, and the day went on as normal.

Annie had crossed their names off her list with a big smile on her face.

Next had been Britta. Annie had also guessed that she’d be accepting, as what had happened with Paige last year had been a bit misguided but well-intentioned. At least Annie didn’t have to worry about Britta only wanting to be her friend because she was a lesbian, because they were already friends, and Annie suspected Britta had learned her lesson.

As expected, Britta reacted well. Perhaps too well, loudly proclaiming her supporting for the LGBTQ community before asking a string of questions about what it was like dating girls and if kissing them was different if you were sobre and/or not doing it to prove you weren’t homophobic. Annie explained she didn’t know - she actually hadn’t kissed a girl yet - but did wonder if Britta’s questions weren’t just due to her being an ally. She could be wrong, but she had read something about queer people having a way of spotting each other. Still, it wasn’t her place to assume anything, and she put the thought out of her mind as she crossed off Britta’s name.

Next was Jeff. This was a bit trickier. Once again, she didn’t think Jeff would be at all homophobic (unless he turned out to be one of those men who only viewed relationships between women as hot, but she’d cross that bridge if she came to it), but coming out to him made her nervous for another reason. Ever since they’d kissed at the Transfer Dance, his feelings for her had seemed unclear. At first, he’d seemed determined to forget it ever happened - which she’d found unfair at the time, but now appreciated - but lately, it was possible he had actually become interested in her. It felt… really weird, when she thought about it for too long. Not only was she definitely not interested in him, but, partially due to their age gap, their relationship felt too close to a father-daughter or older brother-younger sister relationship to be romantic. Sometimes she wondered why she’d ever liked him like that at all.

Although, since she’d extensively researched what comphet was and realised that was undoubtedly what she’d been experiencing, she could understand a bit better she’d never really liked him to begin with, she’d just latched onto a seemingly unattainable man to convince herself she could be attracted to guys, yet again.

As everyone packed up their stuff to leave the study room, Annie remained seated. “Um, Jeff,” she said. “We’ve both got a free period now, right?”

“Right,” Jeff replied, not looking up from his phone.

“Would you mind if I talked to you about something?”

He looked at her curiously. “Yeah, sure.”

Troy, Abed and Britta had clearly all realised what was going on. Abed gave her a small, supportive smile, Troy gave a quick thumbs up, and Britta winked in a way Annie guessed was meant to be subtle, but no doubt everyone in the room saw.

“Come on, guys,” she said, ushering the others out of the room. “This sounds important, and private, and we’ve all got classes to get to.”

Shirley stopped, muttering that she’d forgotten a textbook, but Britta practically pushed her out of the door as Abed said in a deep voice, seeming to have taken the opportunity to act like a security guard, “Keep it moving.”

Annie smiled as she watched them leave, her friends dramatics a pleasant distraction from what she was about to do. She turned back to Jeff to see he’d put his phone down. Clearly, he knew this was serious. “So,” he said. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Annie opened her mouth, let out a squeak, then closed it. This was going to be difficult. Maybe she should have just come out to everyone at the same time, the consequences be damned. That way, she would have got it all over with at once.

“Annie, is everything okay?” Jeff sounded so genuine in his concern, a relatively rare sight. “You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you?”

“No, everything’s fine,” she assured him, finding her voice, but he didn’t look convinced. She took a deep breath. “I was thinking recently about that time we kissed.” He looked confused for a second. Didn’t he remember that night? Not that she cared, of course. “You know? During the dance at the end of our first year? I had just decided not to move to Delaware with Vaughn-”

“Right, right,” he cut her off. “I remember. Sorry, go ahead.”

“Thank you,” she said curtly. “So, I’ve been thinking about our kiss, and-”

Once more, he interrupted her. This was just getting annoying. “Annie, look, I know I’ve been giving… pretty mixed signals about my feelings for you, or if I even have any, but lately I’ve taken a good look at myself, and realised that it would never really feel right to be with you. For many reasons, none of which are your fault. It’s just that you’re much younger than me, and you often feel like a little sister to me - as well as a friend, of course - so I’m sorry, but-”

“Jeff.” Her firm tone silenced him.

There, she thought. How does it feel to be interrupted?

“I don’t want to be with you either!”

“Really?” he checked. “Because it wouldn’t be your fault if you did, I’m the one who needs to keep whatever feelings I have for you in check. Plus, I mean, I wouldn’t blame you…”

She rolled her eyes, but a smile began creeping onto her face. “I swear. I was going to say that I’ve been thinking about that kiss because of how, back then, I thought I really liked you. In a romantic way, I mean. But recently, I’ve realised that I just made myself think I liked you, even loved you. I wanted to convince myself I could be attracted to men, so just like with Troy in high school, I picked an unattainable - or so I thought - man. In his case: someone cool and popular who I thought would never notice ‘little Annie Aderal.’ With you, a cool, older guy who just saw me as a child.”

“Annie.” Jeff’s tone was serious but not annoyed. “Are you saying what I think you are?”

She nodded, her lips a thin line. “I’m a lesbian, Jeff. I really hope this doesn’t change things between us, although, honestly, knowing you don’t want to be with me is a big relief, because I was worried I’d break your heart or make things weird, but…” She paused. She was getting ahead of herself. “Well, have I made things weird?”

“Of course you haven’t! Thank you for telling me, that was really brave, especially if you thought I was still interested in you.”

“Thanks,” she said. She quickly added, “It’s not that I thought you’d react really badly. I don’t see you as someone who thinks he’s somehow entitled to any women he has feelings for, but still… I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He stood up, walking around to her side of the table, presumably to remove the physical and metaphorical distance between them, and gesturing for her to stand up as well, which she did. “You haven’t hurt me at all, Annie, I promise. I care about you, so much, even - no, especially - as a friend, and I just want you to be happy. Even if I was madly in love with you - which, thankfully, I’m not - I could never be upset at you, or anyone, for this.”

Annie could feel tears forming in her eyes. “Aww, Jeff!” She practically threw herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug which he happily returned, laughing.

“Okay, we don’t have to make this all dramatic,” he said, but Annie was sure he sounded a bit choked up.

They came apart, smiling at each other for a few seconds before Jeff hesitantly reached out and gave her a pat on the head. “For old time’s sake,” he explained.

Annie had never felt happier while being given a head pat, which didn’t say much, she knew, but it was accurate, as she’d probably felt happier in general at some point in her life. Still, this was definitely in her top ten.

That night, she crossed off Jeff’s name, remembering the days she would doodle hearts as she wrote down his name, or paired her first and his last. This time, she instead drew a little smiley face. That was far more accurate, she thought. The thought of Jeff no longer made her heart flutter in her chest, but he made her smile, and she was more than happy with that.

[funkymbtifiction]

communication style between feelers.

Hello again. 

I read the post about Dean and I do not agree with the poster, but I’m not here to reply to her but to ask you a question she kind of raised and I always want to ask. 

What are the communicative styles of Fi vs Fe in feelers .. once and for all? 

Because online the same styles are given to both functions, and I’m super confused. In my own experience and what I’ve noticed, Fi are direct and expressive, Fe hold back and are more secretive and vague. Yet it’s not what is described under those functions, is it? I also wonder if it has more to do with introversion/extroversion and enneagram type more than feeling function?

Lets take Rory and Lorelai. 

Rory the ISFJ: One of the reasons she’s one of my least favorite characters is because 50% of her lines are “no it’s fine” and “oh it’s okay”. And what frustrates me more is that she’s labeled sweet and polite and ‘the nicest kid in the world’ for it even though it hurt people around her. She never says what she actually feels and avoids these conversations and there are consequences. 

- She likes Jess and wants to be with him? she drags Dean along and makes him go through emotional hell with the uncertainty and the clinginess that comes with experiencing someone pulling away slowly and them lying and telling you it’s all in your head. She disrespects him and lies over and over again. Being honest and upfront would’ve saved him all of that.

- After she dates him after his divorce the same exact thing happens. It’s not working and the relationship wasn’t what she thought it would be. She wasn’t okay with the Doose’s market food spread, spending time in his house with his mother watching them like hawk and sister blasting music. She wasn’t okay with him snapping at her and staying at his friend’s apartment and them rarely spending time together because he doesn’t have a car and the lack of proper dates. Does she communicate these things? nope, she drags it along until the action comes from him once again and he’s very hurt and feels not good enough again while she cries wearing a diamond tiara because he 'dumped her’ when she dumped him both times way earlier and simply didn’t verbalize it.

- She willingly allows Emily to manipulate her then gets super upset about it and takes it out on her when the person she should be angry with is herself for not speaking up

- When she wants to date Logan and he doesn’t initiate it she’s also upset instead of going to him and telling him she’s interested. 

- When her and her mother attempt to end the grandparents separation, she let’s Richard cut her off and change the subject even though it was her idea and she felt very strongly about doing it that night

Lorelai the ENFP however wastes no time in that same episode. as soon as she was handed the drink she asked her mother directly “will you ever get back together with dad?”

- When Emily is being disrespectful or nosey she tells her to back off straight away. 

- when her father does the same the day after spending the day at Stars Hallow she tells him “You’re judgmental, it’s none of your business, it’s my life not yours and I’ll live it however you want. this stops now”

- when max proposes to her and she thinks it’s the wrong way to do it she says so immediately

- when sherry tells Rory to visit all the time at the baby shower because Yale is near, Lorelai says “well yes, when she’s not spending time with me”. She makes it clear.

- Christopher told the Rory of how she kissed him when they were young because 'she wanted to know what it felt like’ which is completely different than Rory who gets passive aggressive because of Logan. 

That being said. Both characters are unhealthy in expressing themselves one is your face and one acts like a doormat and is upset when someone steps on it. I’ll talk about my experience with IxFJs. I love them, but unfortunately we run into the same miscommunication wall. I’m an xNFP (leaning towards ENFP). Maybe it’s the Te in me but I like things clear and efficient in the sense that I want it out in the open all of it, no matter how insignificant and embarrassing it may be. I want to talk about it calmly and gently, reach a decision or a common ground, take the lesson from it and MOVE ON. I hate things hanging in the air till they shape themselves like an elephant and become the one in the room. The IxFJs I’ve known hardly ever share if I’ve wronged them in a way and instead start behaving a little differently around me, they won’t reply the same way to my messages and there’ll be awkward silence. I don’t understand why? it’s a waste of time and energy. Fe think that by not saying the 'negative’ things and addressing the 'not so perfect feelings’ they’re not hurting anyone, but in reality it’s the opposite, it's the most hurtful thing when you’re passive and you let the person suffer for it. 

I respect my people too much to make them feel stupid and play with their head and heart. I’ve told people I didn’t want to be friends with them anymore (and I was as respectful/friendly/considerate as I could while doing it). Difficult, honest, conversations hurt less than lack of honestly and action in my opinion, especially on the long run when the person calms down and is able to think logically. 

And I love my people so much that I don’t want to go days without talking to them because of an argument that could be resolved. I hate sleeping on unresolved business. Rory runs away every time she doesn’t like want to have a hard conversation with her mother, either to her grandma’s house or to Europe or the live in the pool house for months and poor Lorelai just waits.

I don’t relate to the INFP’s post at all about Fi finding it hard saying I love you. If anything I over do it. with handwritten letters and long messages and presents and on the phone and in person and written in the sky if I only I had the money

so which communicative style belongs to FJs and which to FP? I stand by Fi (direct and clear communication) and Fe (avoidant and passive).

----------

It sounds like you have a solid ability to be honest and open about your feelings, and that’s admirable. You’re clearly not an avoidant personality, but that’s not the case for a lot of feelers. I think what you’re objecting to are attachment type behaviors, within the Enneagram system (3, 6, and 9). Rory, who is either a 9w1 or a 6w5 (probably a 9w1, given how you just described her) is an avoidant personality who isn’t sure what she wants most of the time, is afraid of conflict and confrontation, and has separation issues. She is indeed passive-aggressive and avoidant, and puts her friends and family members through hell while tying to sort out what she wants and how she needs to communicate. And it’s not good. Her behavior with Jess was especially bad, because she was really into him, didn’t want to admit it to herself, couldn’t admit to Dean that she had emotionally moved on, and didn’t know what to do about her feelings… so she strung him along.

Healthy people learn to put things out in the open and be clear about their feelings, but a lot of feelers of both types don’t know how to do this. I would say it’s easiest for ESFPs and EFJs, because of the direct communicative style of Se/Te and Fe-dom. Fe-doms can’t help talking about how they feel immediately as it happens, because it’s the center of their world. As regards your complaints about IFJs… avoidance happens, because IFJs are less sure about their feelings and how to communicate them in ways that are non-offensive to others, and about 80% of them are 9w1s, which compounds the problem of being avoidant. They don’t want to risk an argument, deal with your hurt feelings, or insult you in any way, so they ignore the problem and hope it goes away, but it never really does. They avoid you, afraid of what they might say that could be hurtful, and procrastinate about being honest. (I too have had this happen.) They aren’t sure of how much separation they want, if a relationship sours, because their minds are fuzzy on the issue (they are mad, then not mad, want you, then don’t want you), so they can send you mixed messages.

But, and I will say this, I have done the exact same thing. I am not proud of it, but I’ve done it. I’ve not known how to say, “Look, I am unhappy with this relationship and I want out.” Instead, I become more distant and wait for you to catch the hint, unless it’s in a romantic relationship and there I will say, “It’s not you, it’s me. I don’t want this” in a nice way. My 9 fix tries to ignore things, even if they bother me a lot, to maintain a connection. In the past, I’ve not been a direct communicator, though I’m teaching myself to be more so and just ask. I’m way more comfortable writing “Love ya!” than having a serious “I love you” conversation. Like the INFP, a lot of my feelings are buried deep inside and not things I discuss with people.

So, to answer your question: FPs are more direct simply because low Te is blunt as hell. They may dance around things but eventually blurt out the truth. Fe is more indirect but also more polite and able to tell people things “nicely” by finding a way to soften it. But you are still going to find FPs who are unclear and indirect, and FJs who are direct and quite clear. So it really depends on the kind of Enneagram type you are dealing with. An EFJ 8 won’t mince words, and an IFP 9 won’t be direct with you.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Mission of Mercy: One

“Where’s she headed?” Bucky asked watching the woman loading the back of her small SUV with a duffle bag and assorted odds and ends.

She was a friend of Sam’s, one from his days at the VA, Bucky knew, but he couldn’t remember her name. Sam had got her the gig with SHEILD. I guess he figured they all needed counseling. Or a team mom. Or whatever it was she did. Outreach, Bucky figured. Generating good PR. 

“Looks like a mission of Mercy,” Sam said with a small, slightly sad smile. Bucky looked at him for explanation and Sam sighed, instantly looking sadder and a few years older. 

“She’s a third generation Army Brat,” Sam explained. “Dad never came home from Desert Storm and Brother didn’t come back from… whatever the fuck he was doing. Mom was a VA nurse before she retired… So Y/N knows a lot of grumpy old fucks that don’t like to leave their houses. She makes rounds a few times a week still, for the people she’s known since she was just a kid. Friends of her dad’s, some cousins twice removed.”

Bucky exhaled slowly and nodded. That he hadn’t known. He’d never really paid that much attention to you. But now he looked again. You were packing down styrofoam coolers with what looked like milk, eggs, cheese, and assorted lunch meat. And you had a few labeled boxes of cans. A couple cases of beer… That made Bucky smile a little. And he could respect what you were doing. 

“Y/N!” Sam called across the motor pool, “Who’s on your list?”

“Joe, Rocky, and Cooksy, at least for today,” you answer, “Mac and Wild man are still in the nursing home for rehab.”

“Joe, huh?” Sam said walking over, Bucky trailing after him looking confused.

“You wanting to go along?” you ask, smiling, tightening the ratchet straps that held the styrofoam coolers in place.

“That old man still owes me a rematch,” Sam said grinning. 

“Rematch in what?” Bucky asked, catching a case of beer that had started to slide of it’s perch and slotting it carefully into an open space for you. 

“Dice,” you snort, “Sam swears he cheats.” You give Bucky a smile of thanks and slot a small gift bag in next to the case and Bucky has to look away from you. His face feels hot and he feels like you’re looking through him. So he looks at your hands. Work roughened. Nails bitten to the quick. Useful hands. Not just ornaments at the ends of your wrists. Efficient. 

“He Does!” Sam’s voice breaks through Bucky’s distraction and jolts him back to the world. Back out of his head. And for that, Bucky is momentarily grateful. And a scolding gasp from you immediately makes him too aware. 

“Get off my bread you fucking heathen,” you grouse, only half playing as you give Sam a shove away from a bag.

“My bad,” Sam said, quickly, holding his hands up in surrender, “You got a minute though?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “Go get your stuff. I don’t want to wake Joe up before he’s ready.”

Sam gives you a grin and trots off and Bucky sighs, mentally trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his day. He didn’t want to assume he was going. 

“Joe did intelligence work during WWII,” you tell him, “You guys can always swap some bullshit stories… If you want to come.”

Bucky looked at you. You aren’t looking at him, instead you’re leaning on the bumper of your car and looking somewhere not quite the middle distance, but at something, anything else. And he can’t decide if you’re nervous or just awkward. And he can’t decide how he feels about making you nervous. He was nervous. His palms felt clammy and the rolling in his stomach couldn’t decide if it wanted to be butterflies or hornets. 

“Joe won’t mind?” Bucky asked. 

“A friend of mine is a friend of his,” you say, and Bucky can see that the corner of your mouth is upturned in a smile. “He’s a cousin… kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“He’s a cousin of a friend of my mom’s… He used to look after me sometimes when mom had to run a night shift.”

Bucky nodded, “That-” he couldn’t decide if that was “nice,” or “Cool,” or “weird.” 

“He taught me how to draw in three point perspective, gamble, and make a decent martini,” you say, and Bucky can hear the fondness in your voice. “Most importantly I guess, he never let me be a weirdo by myself.”

Bucky let himself chuckle. And when you chanced looking up at him, the rolling in his stomach decided it was butterflies. 

You were smiling. The kind of smile that would be seductive outlines in red. But right now? With no make up on and your hair falling out of a haphazard ponytail? You looked like a kid about to cause trouble. And he wanted to see what trouble that was going to be. 

Sam retuned before Bucky could formulate something flirty to say. Something that wouldn’t sound too dirty or too corny. Something that might make you swoon a little... though. As you swore at Sam across the motorpool telling him to hurry the fuck up, Bucky doubted very much that you had ever swooned in your life. But he could absolutely see that having a grumpy old man baby sit you had had some other amusing outcomes. 

Swear words didn’t look like they fit you. Your mouth was too sweet looking and the words were too blunt and ugly. It looked like they would fit wrong and come out worse. But. The way you said them was so casual. As if you had never not said them. And that… For some reason, tickled Bucky. He likes smart girls. He liked girls with a temper. And listening to you bicker with Sam just… It definitely burst some more butterflies out of their cocoons. It was nice, Sam having to put up with a smart mouth instead of being the one to dish it out. 

__________

The drive was fine. 

Sam didn’t even complain about the music you played. A blend that gave Bucky whiplash and something of a headache behind his eyes. But. That wasn’t your fault. A lot of the music past his own time did that. 

The Audio bombast of discordant sounds and coded meanings of the ever evolving slang was… a lot. So he mostly focused on the scenery. The cars. The people. The sky. The architecture. That helped. Some things about New York would probably never really change. There were more people now. Fewer dresses and more people in pants… And fewer roving packs of kids. But. It felt the same.

It wasn’t until he was standing on the doorstep. He and Sam looming over you like bodyguards that he noticed differences. The lack of washing hung out to dry. The consistent low hum of multiple air conditioners. The lack of kid noises. The lack of… community. The way everyone was together, and apart simultaneously. 

But when the door swung open slowly, and Bucky was greeted by a little old man. One with thick glasses, a bald head, and stooped shoulders. A neck that made him look like a turtle… A sudden warmth washed over him. 

“There’s my favorite ray of Sunshine,” he said, pulling you into an unembarrassed hug. The kind men in his time reserved for their mothers and beloved children. “And my second favorite pain in the ass!” he said, rasping a laugh as he clasped Sam’s hand in his. 

“I moved up a spot,” Sam chuckled.

 “Eh, the neighbor’s dog died last week,” Joe said, giving Bucky a steady, appraising look.

“Aww, Bear died?” you say sadly, “poor old man… How’s Irene doing with it?”

Joe turned back towards you and chucked you under the chin gently with a small smile. Bucky didn’t miss the tears that had welled up, and evidently, neither had the old man. “She’s heart broke,” he said, “But, she told me to tell you he loved the blanket and it made his last couple weeks more cozy.”

Joe stepped back and ushered you into the house, letting you pass him to go and quietly pull yourself back together, Bucky figured. The butterflies in his stomach catching a sudden chill. 

“Who’s he?” Joe asked, arms folding across his scrawny chest as he straightened himself to his full height… or as close to it as he could manage.

“Winter Soldier,” Sam said grinning, clapping him on the shoulder before going to get the stuff you had for him out of your trunk.

“No shit?” Joe said, adjusting his glasses.

“No shit,” Sam answered, calling over his shoulder. 

“Well Son,” he said to Bucky, “Come on in. I gotta add a bottle of Jack to my grocery list… it looks like I lost a bet.”

And Bucky can’t help it. He laughs.

In the Hall, just inside the door, Bucky  can hear you rattling around. It sounds like dishes being done. And maybe a broom being used and Joe shakes his head. “She’ll make someone a nice wife some day, but fuck if I know what kind of man could handle her.”

Bucky wasn’t sure if that was for him to hear or just Joe Musing to himself out loud, but he smiled anyway and followed him inside. On the walls, there were pictures. Covered bridges, flower gardens, portraits… Presumably of people that the old man knew. Or had known. And the smell of dust and old paper. Decades of smoke from meals cooked and packs of cigarettes. It smelled like age. A sepia tone that mellowed and dulled all the colors around him. But somehow there was nothing harsh. Or forbidding. 

“Will you sit down?” The old man groused, “I have a broad that comes in and does all that shit.”

“Then you’re paying her too much because she ain’t been doin’ it right, old man,” you tell him over your shoulder as you rinse a plate. 

“Bah,” Joe said, flapping his hands at you. Clearly realizing that this wasn’t a fight he could win as he lowered himself into his spot at the kitchen table. “Siddown, son,” he said to Bucky, “Take a load off and let these stupid kids do the grunt work.”

“Kids,” Sam scoffed, putting boxes on the counter with an eye roll as he nudged you.

“I hear him,” you snort. “Careful old man,” you tease, “You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin and at your age, replacement parts are hard to come by.”

“Listen Heifer,” Joe said, eyes dancing behind his thick glasses, “If you wanna kick my old ass, you better pack a lunch.”

You shake your head, and pull the top off a styrofoam cooler, “I got your lunch meat and some eggs. That was it right?”

“Yup,” Joe said, “How much do I owe you?”

“A Dr. Pepper,” you answer over your shoulder, making Joe give you a stern look. 

“Young Lady-”

“You’re not giving me money, ya old coot,” you say, more fond than scolding as you kiss the top of his bald head.

“The hell I’m not-”

“I’ll tell momma and she’ll have both our asses. Me for taking the money and you for payin’ me.”

“She’s got you there Joe,” Sam said, grinning. 

“You shaddup,” Joe said grumpily, eyeing your back. And Bucky could see he was trying to gauge how likely it was that he could slip you some money without you knowing you’d been given any. Bucky grinned and Caught Sam’s eye before bumping the table with his knee to get the old man’s attention.

Once the Old man’s sharp eyes had fixed on him, Bucky glanced meaningfully towards the coat rack. Where your jacket hung so conveniently.And Joe followed his gaze, he grinned and touched his nose in acknowledgement. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ do it,” you say not turning around. 

And Joe made a silent “rats” gesture, before sticking his tongue out at your back

[gumnut-logic]

Daily Dose of Thunderbirds

I absolutely adore this moment where John pulls up the EMP and zaps the Zero XL (Eos will probably never let him forget it - hence why he wasn’t immediately in the cockpit in the scene afterwards - he was checking on Eos). ::wonders if it might be lying around somewhere as a gif that could be gazed at extensively :D ::

But this moment, Virgil and John together like we’ve never seen before (though I have to say that John obviously knows Two well...what don’t we get to see????) Both professional, smart and powerful. It is just great to see them together.

Also headcanon - the EMP was installed after the episode ‘Chaos’ where it was obviously a gap in their toolkit. Brains would have been very annoyed and patched that gap asap.

Aaaah, what am I doing? I’ve written this all in a fic. Have a excerpt of Thunderbird XL (it’s unfinished, but still has a few interesting bits in it).

-o-o-o-

Two was so familiar it hurt.

One was his daydream, but Two was his reassurance.

Virgil didn’t say anything as he helped him through the corridors. A mop of black hair was his only sight as he looked down at the big man under his arm.

The shoulders supporting him were far broader than he remembered. It slowly began to sink in exactly how much he didn’t know. The uniform was familiar. The green baldric and kit. The tools were new and Jeff frowned at them as if to accuse them of betraying his faith in his knowledge. Why Virgil felt he had to carry a screwdriver around with him everywhere, he had no doubt his son could tell him if he asked.

But he didn’t.

They arrived at the room he expected and it was with some relief that it was what he expected.

It wasn’t until Virgil velcroed him to the bed that he saw the dent in the ceiling. “How did that happen?” It was out before he could think twice.

Virgil looked up from the tray of supplies that were not designed for an antigravity environment and frowned at the bulkhead above them.

“Oh, the exo-suit.”

“What was the exo-suit doing in here?”

Virgil pulled out a palm scanner and began a methodical examination. “Got myself trapped in it. Tried to get myself out. Didn’t go well.”

Jeff stared at the side of his son’s head, but didn’t ask the obvious question as Virgil stared at the hologram of a very battered old body above the bed.

Virgil’s hitched breath was the only sound in the room.

“I-I need to give you some supplements. A painkiller would probably be a good idea.”

“No, son. I can last a little longer. Need a clear head.”

Brown eyes caught his for just a moment before looking away. “There isn’t much else I can do until we get you to a hospital.” Virgil turned away, once again fiddling with equipment, unwrapping a hypodermic needle and fussing with a small bottle of liquid. “This is a basic dose of necessary vitamins and minerals.”

Virgil’s eyes were on anything but his father and the hologram above him.

Jeff reached over to one of the many patches on his suit and unwrapped the seal on his arm. “You’ll need to secure it again.”

His son blinked but said nothing, administering the dose to his father and rebinding his suit with tape. “We need to get you a new uniform.”

“It is enough for the moment, Virgil. We need to get back up top and get out of here.”

He saw the hesitation flicker across that longed-for face. “You’re lying down on one of the medbeds in the cockpit. You’re going to let the medscan finish so when we reach home, we have enough data to know what we have to do.”

Jeff eyed him. The changes were subtle. The confidence level was much stronger, more assured, despite the situation.

“Virgil, we need you up here.”

John’s voice would forever be music to his ears.

“FAB.” A swallow, and Jeff could see his son visibly gather himself. “C’mon, Dad. We have a rescue to complete.”

Detaching him from the bed, Virgil again wrapped his arm around his father and helped him through the great green ship.

Both Gordon and John were in the cockpit. The medbed had already been deployed and was ready waiting.

It very quickly became clear that he had no say in whether he was going to lie on it or not.

Virgil’s directions stood for no argument and to be honest, Jeff didn’t really want to put up a fight, but there was so much to see! After so long alone with only rock and the same broken ship to stare at, everything was so rich in colour.

And his sons. His beloved sons.

He watched their every move, part of him still unable to believe that they were really there.

Virgil fussed, obviously fighting his own demons. Gordon chattered incessantly, but Jeff was so happy to hear and see him, he had no protest.

And John, his saviour…Jeff had never been one for the musical arts, that was always Lucy’s department, but to hear his boy’s voice free of static and interruption…

Reality threatened to fracture.

So, he obeyed his worrying sons and lay down on the medbed. Gravity, wasn’t a factor at the moment, but when they reached Earth it was going to be a definite problem.

Reached Earth?

He swallowed a lump in his throat as Virgil was finally urged to the pilot’s seat and the great ‘bird around them came to life.

He had to see this, so he sat up on the bed and watched.

John contacted the Zero XL. The name of the ship that had brought his boys here felt wrong, as if he had been aboard the Titanic and was now being saved by the Titanic II, but the moment the ship answered…

Brains.

The joy in the man’s stuttering voice had Jeff’s heart stuttering along with it. Not only had his boys come all this way, but Brains as well?

The Brains he knew wasn’t a physically active man. His specialities were academic. He had never been comfortable in space or even aboard the Thunderbirds he had designed, yet here he was, out here where literally only one man had gone before.

Jeff’s heart swelled almost to breaking.

John cut off the connection and that voice was gone. Only to be replaced by those of his sons as they coordinated the return trip.

Scott was clearly in command, but Virgil had his own responses and John was sharp and sure. Gordon sat back quietly, his stream of excited words apparently spent, but his posture was active, as if he was ready to move at a moment’s notice. He turned, looked at Jeff and smiled, his eyes glittering in the overhead lighting.

It became apparent very quickly that his boys’ skillsets had advanced considerably while he was gone.

Which really? Was to be expected, but time and memory were two different things.

The red of Thunderbird Three coasted effortlessly between spinning and colliding rocks, One and Two following best they could.

“Who taught Alan to fly like that?”

Gordon snorted. “He’s pretty much a natural.”

“Dad, you need to lie down flat and let the medscan finish.” Virgil threw it over his shoulder and Jeff got the impression that if the man didn’t have to fly his ‘bird, he would still be fussing.

“You sound like your Grandma.”

His mom.

Mom.

Virgil’s tone lightened and his voice was grinning. “Yeah. Who is always right.”

Hmmm. Perhaps some things hadn’t changed.

-o-o-o-

He did lie down eventually, if only to stop his second eldest from fretting. Gordon turned around at one point and whispered that if he didn’t do what Virgil said, things could get scary. Apparently, he was speaking from experience.

So, the medscan was completed and the nagging stopped.

But then they arrived at the Zero XL and Brains refused to respond. It appeared that his Titanic analogy may be far too possible.

Was fate really going to do this to him? Dangle rescue and then snatch it away?

And leave his boys stranded with him?

Then International Rescue responded.

Situation called, examined, orders issued, resolution found and executed.

A moment of panic to a moment of shocked stillness. The Zero XL floated silent in space, the emptiness eating it with its lack of light.

For all its nomenclature, the ship looked nothing like its predecessor.

Was that Thunderbird Five on its bow?

“Thunderbird Two, I need options. How do we get onboard?” His eldest’s son’s voice was a balm against the emptiness. “The docking ports are still closed.”

“I’m working on it, Thunderbird One.” John’s voice was ever so calm. The communications expert flicked a switch on the dash. “Eos, do you read?”

“I’m here, John. Though I would appreciate you never doing that again.”

His son sighed. “You were safe, Eos. We’ve gone over this before.”

The female voice was strident. “That is all very well for you to say, you weren’t the one being shot at.”

Jeff frowned. Who else was aboard the Zero XL? The voice was unfamiliar and sounded very young.

“We have a time limit, Eos. Do you still have access to the Zero XL’s systems?”

“Some. You did do damage with that little trick.”

“We need to dock, Eos.”

“Do you have the password?”

“Eos!”

“You did say I should work on my humour.”

Despite the playful tone, it appeared that Eos knew what she was doing as the Xero XL at least partially came to life, sections opening. He watched as Alan slid Three into a port at the rear. One settled into something similar, and then Two slipped under the ship’s belly and docked with a soft thud.

Virgil spoke briefly with Alan and his ‘bird was secured.

The moment Virgil was out of his pilot’s seat, he was beside Jeff, unstrapping him.

“Gordon, meet with Scott and secure the ship.”

“FAB.” The aquanaut’s eyes sparkled at Jeff again as Gordon briefly touched his shoulder before turning sharply and leaving through the rear door.

John was still sitting in his chair, speaking to the woman who continued to be both efficient and difficult.

“Who is she?” He said the words quietly, but Virgil heard him, his head coming up with a small smile.

“She’s Eos. John can fill you in.”

“Okay.” There was obviously a story there. “So, what’s with the EMP weaponry?” He arched an eyebrow.

Virgil’s smile vanished to be replaced with a frown and he looked down. “Brains designed it after the incident with the GDF’s rescue robots.” He cleared his throat. “A lot has happened.”

Quiet. “I’m sure it has.”

His son’s frown was targeted at the bed’s readout before Virgil reached over and lifted Jeff gently off the mattress and set him floating vertical again. “How does that feel?”

Jeff smiled just a little. “It does the job.”

Regardless, Virgil slipped his arm around his waist again and led him out of Thunderbird Two.

The difference between the interior of Two and the Zero XL was vast. He went from reassuringly familiar to alien in moments.

He missed the green immediately.

“Who built it?”

“Mostly Brains.”

“Mostly?”

Virgil didn’t answer and Alan joined them, again reaching out to hug Jeff, chattering just as happily, if not more than Gordon earlier. Virgil didn’t join in, but neither did he let go.

And then they were at the bridge of the ship. Virgil let him go and Brains was smiling up at him. It was so good to see him.

“It’s good to see you, Jeff.”

His own name forced his heart into his stomach. The man was an older version of his business partner, but his expression, his complete lack of stutter…it had been eight years, but Jeff Tracy had worked so many hours alongside this man, he knew him.

And it wasn’t him.

There was only one person it could be and for a split second, part of him wailed at the injustice that Gaat had followed his sons out here to corrupt these moments as he had corrupted everything else ever since he had met the man.

“It’s good to see you, too.” And he offered his hand.

As Gaat reached to shake, Jeff could see fear in his eyes. Perhaps that was what kept the bastard going all these years. A need to prove that he wasn’t afraid, that he wouldn’t run again when faced with the one man who had managed to prevent him from succeeding all those years ago.

The grip of his limp hand closed the deal.

Jeff spun the man around, wrenched his arm up his back and shoved him face first into the bulkhead.

-o-o-o-

Thunderbird X & Thunderbird XL

[siderealscribblings]

If anything, Zelda seemed to be growing quieter and more withdrawn by the day.

At first, she had gleefully donned the mantle of diplomat, charming the Goron and Zora with years of practiced diplomacy. Her rambling, disjointed speeches on Hyrule’s reconstruction grew less animated and more insistent as time passed. As though she were convincing herself as much as Link that her scheme to reunite the fractured land post-Calamity would succeed.

There was a kind of quiet desperation to the way Zelda spoke that made Link a little uneasy. When pressed she would laugh, brush him off, and busy herself with her journal or a book she borrowed from Purah. Trying to reach her when she had so clearly withdrawn was like chopping the Deku Tree down with a butter knife. At least that would yield some progress; the more he pushed at Zelda, the more withdrawn, deflective, and forcibly cheerful she seemed to get.

In some ways, Zelda was like a great oak tree; immovable and unbreakable until it very suddenly was not.

ao3

“Tarrey Town?” Zelda asked, brow knitting in confusion. “I don’t seem to recall a town like that anywhere in my records.”

<It’s new,> Link signed with a small smirk. <Helped put it up myself.>

“You?” Zelda’s brows nearly cleared her browline. Link’s journey outside the Calamity’s influence came to her in fits and bursts; usually flashes of combat or lonely nights spent staring out over Hyrule’s expanse. The fact that he had a life in the few months he had spent taking down the Calamity’s forces was known to her...she just didn’t think he had time to erect an entire town.

<When I came back...I had to get stronger,> Link said, tapping the Master Sword with his fingertips. <She didn’t want me at first...I had to prove myself to her again. Trained with Hudson; hauling lumber and stuff.>

“Efficient,” Zelda said, privately cursing the fact that she had missed snippets of Link working out. “I didn’t think people were constructing new settlements after the Calamity.”

Link shrugged. < At some point, I think they had to move on.>

“Mm,” Zelda said non-committedly, polishing off the last of her riceball and dusting her hands on her pants. “Well, I suppose that’s…that’s comforting then.”

Link frowned, raising his hands as Zelda fished the Sheikah Slate out. “Alright, which shrine gets us closest?”

__

It would have been faster to fly, but Zelda still hadn’t gotten used to diving off cliffs with only a flimsy piece of fabric to protect her from smashing against the ground. So the walk to Tarry Town gave her plenty of time to see what the people of Hyrule had done without her.

Around the edge of the island where the center of town had sprung up, the bare-bones structure of houses and farms were under construction, people coming and going with supplies or weaponry to fend off any oncoming attacks. A ring of stones on the valley floor created what looked to be the foundation for a wall that would one day rise to circle their growing town. As they grew closer, Zelda’s hands eventually found their way to his arm, gripping on to him for support or comfort as they made their way down the path towards the city.

A city .

Zelda had pictured a few ramshackle buildings; the beginnings of civilization, not civilization itself. She had thought she could be of help getting the town up on its feet only to see it standing high above her, casting a cold shadow on her as they passed under the rock formation.

“Did the local governor permit this?” Zelda asked before she realized the absurdity of her statement. Lady Seres and her family had all likely perished in the Calamity; the place where their stately manor once stood swept clean by the passage of time. The concept of property, policy, and propriety seemed somehow absurd in a world where everything had gone to hell; as though titles meant anything after Ganon struck.

<Do they need to fill out paperwork?> Link asked with a teasing smile; a question that sent chills running down her back to pool in the pit of her stomach. Zelda stopped in her tracks, arm tugging free of Link’s grip as they approached a small crowd of workers milling around a pile of lumber. Her eyes were wide, breath coming in short bursts as she took a step backwards.

“I’m...I’m sorry, I think-” Zelda swallowed, shaking her head as she noticed the clear concern on Link’s face. “Sorry, just needed to catch my breath.”

Link’s frown only deepened, taking a step closer to her as a familiar looking Gerudo woman approached them, hand resting on a clearly pregnant stomach.

“”Hoy!” Rhondson called, waving them over with a smile. “We hoped you were coming!”

Rhondson’s eyes drifted from Link to the strange Hylian vai that somehow looked like she was torn between introducing herself and running like a startled doe.

“Your friend?” Rhondson asked, raising an eyebrow as Link shook his head.

“Um...n-not exactly…” Link said, voice strained and quiet from disuse as he glanced at Zelda.

“Zelda,” Zelda said bluntly, smile plastering across most of her face and stepping past Link who didn’t fail to notice the lack of Princess on the front of her name. “I’ve, uh...heard about your settlement from Link and I wanted to see it for myself.”

Link’s stony silence did nothing to mask the suspicion and confusion in his eyes as she saddled up alongside him, gripping on to his arm as Rhondson sent Link a teasing smile.

“Well, a lot has happened since you were last here, Mr. Hero,” Rhondson said, leading them through a ramshackle construction site as Zelda took everything in quietly, eyes flickering over the faces of Hylian, Goron, and even a few Gerudo workers. “We had to relax the naming convention a little; Hudson finally relented after we reminded him there wasn’t enough people named like us in the world. I think part of him was hoping you’d put roots down here one day as well.”

Link glanced at Zelda, clearing his throat as she took the lead. Link despised using his voice unless absolutely necessary; his silent method of communication spoken only by Zora and only then underwater.

“Do you have plans to expand much further?” Zelda asked, following Rhondson across the bridge into the center of town proper. “It’s only that...well, with Castle Town free of the Calamity, I would think building there would be easier, wouldn’t it?”

“Even if the Demon King is gone,” Rhondson said, spitting as most Gerudo did when mentioning the Calamity. “The land he held for over a hundred years is bound to be stuffed with curses by now. I wouldn’t birth my girl there if you drowned me in Rupees. Not to mention those creepy statue things are still over there.”

“Freed from the Calamity’s influence,” Zelda said, coughing as Rhondson turned to look at her. “I’m sure...so I’ve heard.”

“Not taking that chance,” Rhondson said with a shake of her head. “No point in trying to resurrect an old town full of ghosts and bad memories; best to leave the past buried with the old royals that lived there.”

LInk glanced at Zelda out of the corner of his eye, waiting for her to say something. But where he was willfully silent, Zelda seemed to have been deserted by any argument she wanted to make, mouth hanging open and eyes glazed over as Rhondson steered them around town. The more they saw, the more unsettled Zelda seemed to become, breath coming in slow, deliberate breaths that seemed to be forestalling something awful.

He turned his back for a split second, and she was gone, a flash of light on the hill overlooking the town catching his eye.

__

He found her bunched under a tree overlooking the valley, knees pulled up to her chest and back pressed against the rough bark as red-rimmed eyes stared mournfully out in front of her. Wordlessly, he approached her from the corner of her eye, making her aware of his presence before he sat down on the other side of the tree.

“I’m sorry…” Zelda muttered after a moment, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. “That was foolish of me…”

“Mm,” Link hummed as though he were reluctant to agree with her.

“I just felt like I was...coming apart,” Zelda sniffed. “And I didn’t want to do it in front of strangers.”

“Mm,” Link hummed again, shifting around the tree until he sat by her side, hips touching as she reached out to him for reassurance. Their custom of sharing a bed had lowered some of the physical boundaries between them; it spoke of something they each knew but weren’t ready to address just yet. Not when so much was uncertain outside of their little nest in Hateno Village.

“They’re doing beautifully, aren’t they?” Zelda said with a watery chuckle. “All of them...they’re all doing so well. And it’s good...it’s better than I could have imagined but…”

Link reached out, giving her leg a reassuring squeeze as she tried to piece together her thoughts.

“I thought…” Zelda let out a deep breath, shaking her head. “I don’t know what I thought...I didn’t think my kingdom would dry up and die without my family to lead it but…”

She drew up her knees to her chest, blinking back tears as she watched the world move on without her in the valley below. “I thought I would at least be needed...or wanted. I thought I would have a place in the world I had helped protect but…”

Link watched her deflate as she finally confronted the thing she had been running from for weeks. “Maybe Hyrule doesn’t need Princess Zelda anymore...maybe it never did. Maybe it’s best to let the old kingdom just...lie”

Zelda took a deep breath, looking at him with such a lost and scared look that he felt his heart ache on her behalf. “I just wish I knew what was to become of me…”

The wind rippled past them, sending flower petals tumbling through the grass as Zelda seemed too lost and tired to properly cry anymore. Link stumbled for the right words to say for a moment, starting and stopping several times before crouching down in front of her.

<What if one day you realized you weren’t meant to be a princess?> Link signed, watching Zelda’s red-rimmed eyes trace the motion of his hands. <Would you choose a different path?>

Zelda let out a weary chuckle, looking away in embarrassment. “You shouldn’t use my own words against me like that…”

<Even if you’re right?> Link countered. Zelda was silent for a long moment, listening to the revelers carry on down the hill with a wistful look in her eye.

“It feels like...giving up,” Zelda said slowly. “Like I’m just...walking away from everything my family has ever done; letting my parents down, I expect...even though they’re gone and there’s no one left to be disappointed in my choices I still feel...obligated to try and set things back to the way they used to be. As though I’m some sort of failure if I don’t…”

Link started signing something. “I know,” Zelda chuckled. “I know I’ve done something nobody else in the world can do; I know I’ve helped save the world from the Calamity and ensured that Hyrule lives to see another year, but-”

<It’s hard to become someone else,> Link signed, watching Zelda nod distantly. <Even if that’s someone you want to be.>

“And if I don’t know what I want to be?” Zelda asked, watching Link stand up and brush his trousers off.

<Then we can figure that out,> Link signed, offering her his hand as the last word left his fingertips. Zelda looked at his rough, calloused fingertips for a moment, head tilting to one side as she reached out and took it, hauling herself to her feet with a sigh.

“Impa won’t be happy,” Zelda said, eyes widening as Link signed something exceptionally rude. “ Link!”

Grabbing her hand, he tugged her back up the hill towards the glowing Sheikah shrine above them. “Wait, what about Tarry Town?”

Link shrugged, holding the Sheikah slate up to the eye on the front as the doors opened, the elevator rising seamlessly from the earth beneath her feet. He watched her eyes widen in curiosity, taking a step forward before glancing at him with an uncertain smile.

“Isn’t it dangerous?” Zelda asked. Link tapped the sword hilt on his back with a smile that could almost be mistaken for smug. “Of course…”

<You don’t want to?> Link asked, taking a step backwards. <I get it; it’s nerdy stuff. Probably not interested.>

Zelda’s brow creased into a scowl that didn’t reach the stubborn smile on her lips, marching into the cool, dark elevator and insistently looking back at her would-be guardian. “Well?”

Link stepped into the elevator, nudging her with his shoulder as the door closed and the elevator took them deeper into the earth. Surrounded by ancient technology she could spend the next hundred years studying, with Link’s shoulder brushing up against hers, Zelda felt a little less unsure of her place in this new Hyrule she had helped save.

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Worthy (pt5)

A/N: I thought I would try to get on top of things and cue a chapter. @rampant-salamander​ @bolontiku​

Markus, as it turned out, was the goofiest guy I was likely to ever meet. His passion for clean energy was matched only by his passion for collecting vintage pop cans. He was the only person on the team who had an office, and it was cluttered with partially finished projects, and mountains of proposals. And his bookshelf had not a single book on it, but instead was lined with pop cans, right back to the dawn of canned carbonated beverages. It was impressive. He pulled his chair around to sit beside me instead of across the table. And in a move that proved the clutter to be a highly efficient filing system, he pulled my proposals from the middle of one of the stacks of papers.

“Your three proposals have all been greenlit by Pepper and Tony, but I won the coin toss, so I get you first. I suspect that your green washer was your back-up proposal, but I love it. I think it’s important to make clean energy available to every household. Your washing machine is economical to build, and that will make it accessible to all income levels. But it also takes into consideration some pretty fantastic advancements in water reclamation. I was impressed by the various disciplines you worked with to put the proposal together, some clearly not your areas.” His speech was relaxed. He flipped through my proposal, certain areas highlighted.

“I’ve lived in university residences for the last nine years. I assure you, access to space and energy efficient washing machines at an affordable price was something I got quite passionate about as more and more of my clothing was destroyed by or stolen from the communal machines,” I laughed.

“I was particularly impressed with the water reclamation technology you managed to build into the machine. That’s usually a very cumbersome apparatus.” He flipped to the schematics I’d included in the proposal.

“I took inspiration from Mr. Stark’s arc reactor miniaturization, and consulted with one of the senior engineering professors to ensure my calculations wouldn’t decrease the output capacity,” I explained.

“You were the only applicant who not only admitted to consulting, but credited the colleagues you consulted with. My department is a well-oiled machine, and every person has a role to play. Your dedication to teamwork is why I pushed for you to work on this project first. Well, and that it’s really cool.” His compliments were making me feel overwhelmed again. I shook my head and looked away. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried about the fall-out when you all discover I’m not as amazing as you think I am.” My laugh was stilted. He clapped me on the back.

“By the time that happens, we’ll have the washer on the market and you’ll have secured your place at Stark,” he laughed. His comment made me smile, but it was seriously terrifying to have so many really amazing people telling me that I was awesome. I was untested, fresh from school and so inexperienced. The only reason I hadn’t hidden in academia longer and gone on to my PhD was because I wasn’t exactly sure what I would do with a PhD in engineering that I couldn’t do with a Master’s. 

“What are the other interns like? I didn’t get a chance to meet them last night,” I asked. Markus’s forehead wrinkled in thought.

“Well, one of them no-showed. So we’re down to just two of you. And the other seems okay. Arrogant. Maybe a little too arrogant. I looked over his proposal and passed on it. It seemed way too easy to weaponize,” he explained.

“Which one is he?” I had a hard time believing someone would give up the opportunity of this internship, but I understood the feelings of inadequacy that came with the pressure of accepting on a visceral level. I probably feel somewhere between the guy who showed and the guy who didn’t on the confidence scale. So I was desperately curious about the one who showed up. Know the competition, and all.

“The kid who proposed the mag-lev technology for automobiles. His proposal discusses crumbling infrastructure, and suggests that a mag-lev device in the shocks of vehicles would help protect the structural integrity of vehicles. He completely neglected to mention that it would also be helpful to the military in hostile situations where IEDs and mines can compromise troop safety. I wouldn’t have been suspicious about the proposal at all if he’d included that application and some research on it, but it was really conspicuous in its absence. I think the first thing Tony has asked him to do is flesh out the proposal with the appropriate defense department research. Like we’ve all said, you’re a stand out.” It was in that moment that I finally clued into why I was feeling so out of sorts. I wasn’t used to being recognized and lauded for my work. I was used to producing and working hard. I was used to long hours of research, long hours of application, long hours of revision. But I wasn’t used to even five minutes of praise like I’d been receiving since I showed up at Stark Industries. And as a result, I felt uncomfortable.

“Can I get you to do me a favour?” I asked, suddenly changing the subject.

“Is it legal?” Markus countered.

“Can you dial back the compliments? I appreciate that you are impressed with me and excited about my work. But I’m not used to anyone being thrilled with me like everyone here seems to be. I feel like an imposter. It’s a lot of pressure.” It felt good to say the words aloud. Markus leaned back in his chair. He crossed his arms, and just looked at me. Assessed me. Then he nodded.

“Sure, kid. No more endorsements, praise or approval until you prove yourself,” he agreed. “I give that about a week.” I think he thought he’d mumbled the last part quietly enough that I didn’t hear him. I let out a huff of resignation and shook my head.

“I appreciate it, Markus.” I pushed myself out of my chair. As frustrating as I found the golden child treatment to be, I could step back and appreciate it more knowing Markus was going to let me find my feet. I shook his hand again and headed back out, astonished to see how much time had passed while I was meeting him. Angela was back at my desk, and was holding a paper bag.

“I intercepted the distribution delivery to your room. Check out the towels you ordered.” She handed me the bag. I pulled a towel out and snapped it open. It was even smaller than the towels I already had.

“This said it was a bath sheet in the order book,” I protested. Angela laughed.

“Well, now you have hand towels for eternity. Let’s go get you some decent sized towels. Can’t have Thor seeing you in the altogether again, can we?” She linked arms with me, and started to lead me away from my desk. I barely had a chance to grab my purse and the bag of towels before she dragged me off. “I just need to drop this file off for Pepper, so we’re on our way up before we go down.”

We were intercepted in the elevator by a woman who was obviously fed up with the guy who was with her. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her mouth was set in a thin line. Every time she breathed it was like she was counting in her head. Slowly in, slowly out. I guessed it was my fellow intern, and I wasn’t wrong.

“Ladies.” He winked at Angela and smirked at me. I bit my lip and tried to hold back a snort of amusement. What a dork. Angela smiled at the woman with him.

“Marie! How is day two going? Are you settling Matt in?”

“You could say that. We’re just headed up for a little chat with Ms. Potts about policy and procedure,” she nodded. I looked at Angela in alarm. We hadn’t done that. Angela met my panicked look with a serene one, and just barely shook her head. 

“Ella, this is Marie. She works in the same capacity as I do, and has been assigned to orient the other intern to Stark Industries. Matthew Emerson is from MIT. Ella came from CalTech,” Angela offered. Matthew offered his hand and gave me a once over that was overtly unprofessional. I rolled my eyes.

“A pleasure, Ella. I’m sure we’ll be seeing much more of one another over the summer.” The way he said it made me want to bathe in bleach. I forced a smile and withdrew my hand from his sweaty grip. I turned back to the front of the elevator without saying anything in return.

The elevator stopped on the 77th floor and the doors opened. Thor stepped on, munching on what appeared to be a pop-tart, and nodded at us. He pushed the button for the top floor. Apparently we were all headed up to see Tony and Pepper. He was holding the hammer loosely in his grip, and the way the light caught on the surface, I could see the writing on it again. My mind flashed back to the moment I’d lifted it, and the shock that had coursed through my body.

“So, Ella. You don’t look like a CalTech girl,” Matt started. I gave him a questioning look. “I would expect you to be beach ready, with a perfect California tan. Tan lines optional.” He winked. I turned and faced him.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, come on. We all know you only got the internship because you’re the closest thing to attractive out of the women applicants. Pepper needed a sort of pretty chick for the face of her Women in STEM campaign. I just figured you’d be more summer girl than science girl.” His laugh was a derisive snort. Before I could respond, he slapped my ass. I saw red. The rage bubbled up so quickly, I wasn’t even sure where it came from. But I’d been dealing with asshats like him since I’d started university and I was not going to let his type win this round. I set my jaw and grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back and pushing him into the wall. He made another disgusting comment. I’m not entirely sure what happened next, but when I came back to myself, I was standing over him, panting, and holding Mjolnir in my left hand. 

“Ella!” Angela reached for me. Thor put a hand up and prevented her from getting close. The elevator doors opened and Pepper and Tony were greeted with what was probably the strangest tableau they’d ever seen. The god of thunder looking on hopelessly as a raging intern held his hammer over the other intern. I could feel the lightning from the handle coursing through me again, but this time it wasn’t as painful or startling. It snapped me back to the present. I looked down at my hand in surprise and back up to Thor, meeting his gaze. I held out my hand without breaking eye contact. He took the hammer from me, and held out his other hand to stop the elevator door from closing on us.

“I don’t recall seeing anger management issues in your background,” Tony had come over to investigate.

“It was a warranted response, Tony. The boy spoke vulgarly.” Thor was in my corner, even if he was irritated that I kept stealing his hammer. Tony looked at Angela, who nodded.

“We were just on our way up to drop off this file,” Angela held the folder out to Pepper, who accepted it. She stepped back onto the elevator, and pulled me to the back with her. I think she was hoping we’d get away with leaving.

“And you?” Tony looked at Marie. Marie stepped off the elevator and gestured for Matt to follow her. He scuttled past me and pulled himself to his feet.

“Matt needs a policy and procedure orientation,” she replied. “From Pepper.” Tony raised an eyebrow, and in that moment, I realized that was code for something else completely. He stepped aside and let Marie and Matt pass him. Angela leaned over to punch the button to return us to the ground floor. 

“Not so fast,” Tony intercepted the attempted escape. “Ella is going to have to explain exactly how it was she came to be holding the hammer. Again. You don’t need to stick around though, Angela.” I sighed and stepped off the elevator, anticipating the worst. Tony led me over to the far side of the room, to the bar. Thor had followed, wordlessly. He dropped a couple of ice cubes into a pair of glasses and poured two drinks. He handed one to Thor and the other to me.

“Vodka, rocks, right?” He confirmed. I nodded. He nodded at a chair and I sat, smoothing my skirt over my knees. “Elizabeth Carmichael. Who exactly are you?”

[magicalhideoutengineer]

Makers, Mysteries and Magic chapter 2 & 6: Tina & Newt

Katherine Waterston: So between the first and second film, Newt and Tina have been separated by the Atlantic Ocean and maintained a correspondence, which was abruptly cut off when Tina discovers that Newt is engaged to Leta Lestrange.

Eddie Redmayne: Newt has very little social capacity, let alone with people he finds attractive. He had managed to articulate himself enough when standing on those docks in New York, to make it clear to Tina that he had great feeling for her and she clearly did too, so there was a world which I thought it all might be happy ever after. But, no. Newt thinks it’s because of him being particularly harsh about Aurors. Of course, Tina is an Auror.

But actually it transpires that the reason the letters have stopped is because Tina has seen a magazine in which a photo of myself, of Leta and of my brother Theseus has appeared on the front of the magazine and it is misquoted as saying that I’m getting married to Leta Lestrange rather my brother Theseus is actually getting married to Leta Lestrange. She’s seen this. She remembered that Leta’s name being mentioned in the last film and so she thinks that I’ve gone home and forgot all about her. So, unfortunately we start the film in a place of complete miscommunication between two people that already can’t communicate.

Katherine Waterston: And so she has to sort of moved on and get on with her life and it’s a big bummer, but she has her work to do, so she just, that’s kind of Tina’s way of coping with painful things. She just pours her, all of her energy and focus into her work, and off to Paris, she goes. And then Newt shows up there and really messes up her progress and her investigation and kind of chases her around until she is forced to listen to his story about what happened.

Eddie Redmayne: And often what’s interesting is that even they start the film at loggerheads, subconsciously they are brilliant at working together.

Katherine Waterston: There’s a chance that she might kick him in the shins. She’s mad, you know. She thinks she’s been jilted. She’s got her pride, but of course he can see through that. You know, I think what’s fun about being reunited is that even when there’s difficulty between them, they both love adventure, and so there are these wonderful moments in the beginning of the film when they first reconnect where she’s hurt and offended and disappointed, and then suddenly have so much fun with him. And then it’s about like, "Oh, God, this guy’s fun to be around." And has to deal with the fact that he’s wonderful and she can’t have him.

I think Newt did a little bit of more of the rest doing in the last film because I’d been demoted at work and couldn’t practise magic as powerfully as I am now. So it’s maybe a little more balanced now. I think it’s just one of those things that these two people… they obviously have more similarities. They are both a little awkward and shy in some ways, but really thriving in high stakes, sort of dangerous situations and feel comfortable in those situations. Some people go kind of foggy in a crisis, and these two people, they get clearer. So there are a lot of wonderful moments where we have to act very quickly and efficiently, and it’s fun to try to seem like I’m someone more coordinated than I actually am.  

He chases me. We get chased by other people. We hide a lot. Creatures chase us. So it’s a lot of running. Eddie is the very explosive sprinters, so I always pull like every muscle in my body when I run with him because he can go from standing still to very fast and I kind of have to ramp up. Yeah, we helped each other out a lot in this one.

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter II

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

I offer you the second chapter of my story! This time I made sure to be more careful with the edition!

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story. (Third coming soon!) (Chapter I)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 655

TW: None!

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

"Kurapika''- then they looked up to him-"I know I'm putting my life on the line. Yet, what I'm about to do is an act of desperation wholly motivated by my concluding. Are you... are you somehow related to the scarlet eyes?" their eyes still avoiding his, with a serious and plain expression on their face. It was sure they weren't joking. Kurapika immediately tensed up and put himself on guard. "I'm sheepish to inquire like this in your private life. But I have my reasons to suppose you are, if you say yes to me, I will believe you. If not, please let me know and we can pretend this dialogue never happened." Kurapika was naturally full of inquiries about this whole story. But continuing with this conversation could lead him to information. Even solve his doubts about (Y/n), that character who puzzled him so greatly. "I am," he answered after some seconds of reflection. (Y/n) nodded in agreement to him and kept stuttering "I have a... I have an offer for a pair of scarlet eyes."- the tone of their voice was worried, and still (Y/n) remained serious. At that moment, they were convinced of being on the right path.-"Please, don't misunderstand me. I am not a flesh collector. I am convinced that these kinds of people are the most repugnant vermin. And I despise them"- These last two sentences were said with particular disgust on (Y/n)'s voice-"I'm certain you're questioning yourself <<Why are they communicating this to me? How do they have this sort of knowledge?>> I-I beg you... let me explain myself. Even if I'm not a flesh collector, I'm after precise body parts and I seek to reclaim them. As a Doctor, It's quite easy to persuade dealers about my supposed appreciation for that kind of item. Furthermore, I'm telling you this because I want to be... believe the scarlet eyes are going to be in a better place with... with you than on a display rack. Seeing body parts being treated like mere dirty material articles... just objects someone can just appropriate... just possess gives rise to my sadness and fury.- as they spoke, (Y/n)'s voice trembled and stuttered and their hands tightened into fists. Even if their face stayed stoic, their voice and hands reflected all the anguish felt. Letting out a heavy suspire- If you're angry and distrust me, I concede. These are delicate subjects and I apologize for my sudden harshness, but I was obligated to clear my uncertainties. It was a part that, for my integrity and morals, I could not ignore. I am deeply grateful to you for letting me telling you this." (Y/n) finally finished and looked down their feet again. Waiting for some kind of response, and feeling ready to endure any kind of repercussion their early action could lead them to. Kurapika knew the person in front of him had not just nothing to win doing this, but they could also get murdered. Not solely by him. Plus, he recognized the sense of anger towards the flesh collectors. Only getting his suspicions bigger. "Your explanation seems coherent. I will believe you. Further, the information highly interests me. I'll collaborate with you."  The voice tone in Kurapika was not an angry one, despite what (Y/n) had anticipated. Rather a gentle feel flooded Kurapika's soul, feeling less alone in the cause he devoted his life. 

In return (Y/n) offered Kurapika their usual tender smile and looked up at him again. With the difference that in their eyes they had a look of closeness and muttered a "Thank you" to follow the conversation- "I have the details of the transaction, but I would prefer to deliver them to you in a more secure area. I invite you for tea if you accept." 

~

A proposition to which Kurapika agreed. To anew prove their reliability, (Y/n) offered to drive Kurapika to their address, a delicate move as that sort of information was notably frail and placed (Y/n) in a state of vulnerability. (Y/n)'s residence was just a small home with limited decoration. On their salon, beside the basic furniture thus consisted of a canapé, two individual loveseats, a carpet and a coffee counter in the center; the only remarkable things in all the place were a fairly small grand piano -second hand probably- and an exhibit shelf with tiny animal figurines in different situations: like two wolves and a cat drinking tea, or a crowd of distinct critters dancing. "A quite childish set to exhibit" was the thought Kurapika had. (Y/n) brew some tea and placed some biscuits on the coffee table. "To gain the scarlet eyes, the merchant convoked me this Thursday at 9:15 p.m. on a private store in the edge of the town. I have to present personally with my hunter license to confirm my identity, also the granted price for the pair of scarlet eyes would be 2 million Jennys. I'm more than willing to pay the fee." (Y/n) affirmed while taking a sip of tea. "As I suppose, you're familiar with the security protocol to access black market stores. What kind of strategy have you in mind if something turns out wrong? Those buying are always dangerous."-Kurapika questioned inclining in front, resting his elbows on his knees. Logically, (Y/n) had a plan conceived for these circumstances. -"In these situations, I take an offensive position. Regarding my nen, I'm a specialist. I'm able to conjure two ribbons, each one with different properties. The first one "Misericordiae'' has enhancement effects and is meant to protect. It concentrates great quantities of aura and grants the band high strength and healing skills. The other ribbon "Divina Poena '' has transmutation traits, it obtains the ability and sharpness of a metallic blade and is aimed to punish. Although, to obtain my I made vows and have several limitations. I can't kill with "Misericordiae", and exclusively use "Divina Poena" against people who have committed atrocities. Plus on my actual form, I can't use both simultaneously. My plan consists of physically containing the opponent with "Misericordiae '' and knock them down, to subsequently use it to shield us and escape. In extreme cases, it could kill them, although I fancy avoiding it."- (Y/n) rigorously explained. It was obvious they previously initiated contact with flesh sellers, and their cleverness was confirmed once more by Kurapika. 

"The plan is plausible and efficient. With that already determined, I will accompany you in the transaction and present myself as your bodyguard."- with that proclamation the project was complete and ready to be performed. (Y/n) provided Kurapika with a folder full of documents informing about the seller and the location. The seller ended up being a notable collector and dealer of singular and luxurious objects in the underworld. They both accorded to meet outside a coffee shop Thursday at 8:30 p.m., and (Y/n) will transport them to the establishment.

~

The said day finally arrived. the plan was thus executed. (Y/n) was very punctual when picking up Kurapika, dressed in their usual good taste, always with some variety of embroidery herbaceous detail. It was not difficult to believe that he was a wealthy fan of human members. Kurapika sat next to (Y/n) in the passenger seat. For most of the trip, no word was said. They were both troubled. Just one exception; before getting out of the car, (Y/n) smiled at Kurapika and said as an encouragement "We are going to procure the scarlet eyes!". Even if their expression seemed the same, the contrast was subtle, and Kurapika recognizes the support in their action. Once through security, they both reached a vast room full of cristal showcases. These exhibiting an enormous amount of costly merchandise. The salesman was waiting for them, and they politely presented each other and engaged in a little courtesy prattle.

 Once (Y / n) confirmed their identity with their hunter license, the man led them to a private room, which he locked, to present the product. The man showed them the scarlet eyes, which were real, proving that it was not a scam. Kurapika and (Y/n) did their best to maintain the facade they came with. To conclude with that all (Y/n) pulled the money cash out of their bag and presented it to the seller. 

"Oh, no no no, child, 2 million Jennys was the first offer I gave you. But now you seem so firm to buy the scarlet eyes I raise the price to 4 million Jennys. They are very precious and rare, you know?"-the man took on a condescending tone, clearly taking advantage of the situation to play dirty. Kurapika couldn't help but feel his blood boil like lava. He was so tired of treating scumbags who treated the Kurta clan like lower living beings. He wasn't alone in this anger. "Misericordiae!" was the thing both men heard before (Y/n) conjured their nen. A white ribbon enveloped the hunter's left hand like jewelry. The ribbon gripped the seller's limbs, torso, and head, lifting him using the roof rafters as pulleys. The ribbons were tightening their grip as the man's face turned into a scared expression, and (Y/n) stopped smiling to return to a solemn expression. At the same time, Kurapika took an attacking position, ready to battle if required. "Do not try to fool us. We tried to do everything pacifically, and yet your actions are unfair. I have more than sufficient reasons to end someone who obtains a profit with human misery. So, you're going to give us the eyes, and we will calmly leave, without anyone getting injured." (Y/n) calmly replied, despite their irritation. 

"Fine, I'll accept the two million! Let me down now." the disgusting man tried to persuade, but (Y/n) wasn't satisfied with the answer "No. You broke the arrangement. You can't go backward now." (Y/n) firmly declared to directly give the pair of scarlet eyes to Kurapika and head to the door, finally realizing the man before getting out of the room. They proceeded to quickly exit the establishment. Already out, (Y/n) dissipated their nen, cleaned the tiny flow of blood that came out of their mouth, and both got inside the car.

~

After the obnoxious experience and once in the car (Y/n) angrily grunted, not leaving their annoyed plain appearance and driven to return into Yorknew. The car stayed silent for a moment, giving each of the passengers' space and calm to dissipate their tension. In the end, despite the trick the man wanted to impose on them, Kurapika retrieved the eyes. Both feeling a bit better (Y/n) mumbled, still bitter "How awful. I despise these kinds of personages, just hideous rubbish. They're as stupid as a broomstick!"- Kurapika couldn't help but let out a tiny chuckle in front of the original expression. (Y/n) turned to see Kurapika, making a small squeak of surprise- "Why are you laughing?" 

The uncommissioned of the person next to him only caused Kurapika more amusement. "Your expression is quite unique!" the blonde man replied. (Y/n) in what appears to be a sudden blow of consciousness also laughed. To playfully add with their smile back "I might have mistranslated my expression. "Why is a broomstick stupid tho? What's the reasoning?" -Kurapika joked again.

"Well, consider it. A broomstick is useless without the brush. It doesn't do anything relevant. Plus the brush doesn't need a stick; the small hand brooms are the evidence. No one needs the broomstick!"

"I suppose you're right."-Kurapika smiled at the silly (Y/n) gave him.

"May I propose you some tea?" (Y/n) continued, to which Kurapika gladly agreed. He was in a nice mood after all. A nice mood in a long time.

~

That was the second time, of many, Kurapika went to (Y/n)'s home. The tea was served along with some sweets on the coffee table in the sitting room. Each one sat in front of the other. At some point, Kurapika interrogated "How did you know I held some connection to the scarlet eyes?".

(Y/n) Slowly shrugged and looked away. "I saw you during Neon's discourse about her collection."- they answered with their tiny smile - "I recognize that expression and feeling of frustration and sorrow. The sentiment is familiar to... to me as well...".

At that moment, Kurapika decided to execute a move that would dissipate his suspicions about (Y/n). "Thank you for your service. You proved yourself as someone reliably, (Y/n). I consider you deserving of an account and promise the scarlet eyes are in good hands."-(Y/n) swiftly looked up to him-  "I'm a survivor of the massacre of the Kurta. The eyes belong to the members of my clan. My people's eyes turn red whenever we feel intense emotions. My confreres were slaughtered and had their eyes stolen."-anger and pain were present in each of his words-"  I seek to retrieve the scarlet eyes from the sickening scum who rob them and carry out my revenge on the ones who brutally destroyed my clan. They were innocent... they didn't deserve to be annihilated."-Kurapika's voice quivered as his companion stayed quiet, hearing carefully.-"The Spiders killed... unjustly my people. I pretend to make them pay. Additionally, I discerned, despite your vigilance, you are highly protective of your eyes." Kurapika finally voiced. (Y/n) slowly got up and sat next to him. "Kurapika... Although, indeed, my eyes are also capable to change; I am not a Kurta. I'm profoundly remorseful if I gave you that hypothesis."-their tone was sad -"Yet I'm also really alike; my people got killed as well for a part of their body. I am an Unilium, or vulgarly known as beast people... please do, do not misunderstand me, I can change my appearance... Even if I can change it, my current form is the real, it's part of me. They killed us for our fur. I survived only because I lived elsewhere than the rest. And I.. I'm also the last one..."

It would be a lie if I'd said Kurapika's hopes of having another Kurta alive didn't crush. He felt foolish, similar to if he wanted to cry. "Kurapika, let me join you." was a response he didn't expect.

"I believe in your cause. What the spiders did will not stay unpunished." -(Y/n) gently spoke to him, as he looked at them. For the first time, they looked Kurapika directly in the eyes. Their (eye color) catlike eyes were wet. And his words were full of support and determination to help. - "How many are there, similar to us? How many have suffered because of them? And how many more will there not be? We begged for help, but no one protected us. Let's protect those who are similar to us. We don't deserve to suffer, none of us did. We will not be giving them the pleasure of giving up. We will not be giving them the pleasure of leaving unpunished.

May evil pay for its crimes." Kurapika felt held for the first time in a very long time. Probably since the Yorknew incident. How much suffering was released at that instant? So much so that he gave up and hugged the person next to him who was caring for him. (Y/n) flinched at the contact. Just before he could cut the embrace, Kurapika felt a pair of trembling and timid arms enveloping him. It reminded him of the hugs that Pairo used to give him.

"I'll be frank, I don't believe in fate. But, random happenings in life culminated in the survival of both of us. We are the last ones. Let's make it worthwhile. The Spiders will pay."

[onemuseleft]

Okay, okay, but. BUT. can we also get Zhao Yunlan/Shen Wei Blind Date AU?

Okay but: (this got way out of control, sorry)

So Shen Wei doesn’t exactly socialize with his coworkers, per se, but he does attend department meetings and he’s on a couple of committees and there are events meant to foster teamwork and comaraderie. Shen Wei attends exactly as many as he needs to in order to maintain his cover as an awkward but harmless introvert who has few interests outside his research. It’s more than he’d like. 

Anyway, there’s Professor Jiang Yue in the History Department. She’s brilliant, well-respected, and knows more about the history of Dragon City than anyone else in Haixing. She’s one of the few people who doesn’t think his research is entirely hypothetical and often likes to pop by and discuss something she’d recently translated that supports his theories that there may have been “mutants” in history. She’s also terrifyingly outgoing, finds Shen Wei’s deliberate stubborness and not-so-deliberate awkwardness endearing, and has decided he needs a wife. 

Or a husband. She’s open-minded.

Jiang Yue tries to hook him up with two grad students from her department (he declines for ethical reasons, even though they don’t work for him, which he suspects was a test), a young professor from the Literature department, her sister-in-law and a young woman she met at the market. 

This all occurs over a period of about ten days.

In semi-desperation Shen Wei tells her he’s not interested in women, which she takes to mean he is interested in men, but which Shen Wei had meant to mean he wasn’t interested in anyone.

Look, he’s never been good at this sort of conversation, all right? No one’s ever tried to fix him up before. 

Once she’s narrowed down the list of applicants to available young men, Jiang Yue appears to get a little more discerning. At the very least she spaces them out a little further.

(”Men are harder to come by,” she tells him much, much later. “You have to be more discerning. Also I had a bitch of a time pinning down your type.”)

She did, in fact, pin down his type, he just didn’t know it at the time.

Jiang Yue’s new husband is a police officer.

“I met someone at a fundraiser last night,” she says. “He’s very handsome, but the downside is that he knows it. Cleans up quite nice, but he mentioned he had a motorcycle so clearly he’s not afraid of a little excitement. And he had lips that I would have attached myself to were I not a happily married woman.” 

Shen Wei had ducked his head and smiled and agreed that sounded very nice, but he wasn’t interested.

Kunlun’s face had lingered in his mind’s eye; dark, knowing eyes and pink, plump lips that would press against Shen Wei’s own until he could lose himself in their kiss. He’d made up an excuse to leave early and spent the rest of the night unable to ground himself in the present. He’d given up, eventually, let himself fall into the memories in a way he usually won’t allow. He closes his eyes and remembers the way Kunlun would run his tongue over his lower lip when he was thinking about something, the way his lips would be pink and swollen from Shen Wei’s kisses, the way his mouth moved when he called Shen Wei baobei and Xiao Wei. (The way those lips looked wrapped around Shen Wei’s cock, eyes gazing up at him with a wicked glint in them as he made Shen Wei shudder and come apart beneath him). The way they felt in the dry mountain air, soft and just a little chapped as Kunlun brushed them over Shen Wei’s temple - the last kiss before the Hallows separated them for a hundred lifetimes.

He’s a little more brusque than he really needs to be the next time she mentions a potential date but he can’t bring himself to regret it.

There is a brief cooling-off period in which Shen Wei thinks he has communicated his lack of romantic interests quite clearly and she has decided to respect that and back off. 

He hasn’t communicated shit, it turns out she just thinks he’s not quite over an ex and is giving him some room to breathe. She’s right, of course.

“We’re having a little dinner party,” Jiang Yue says one day while they’re allegedly meeting for the efficiency committe, but really everyone is just gossiping about some rumors that the Chancellor is going to make them start submitting online lesson plans. Shen Wei wants to be outraged but he doesn’t even know how that would work. He makes a mental note to ask Li Qian. “We just bought our new house and we’re having some friends over. You should come!”

He’s flattered for half a second and then remembers who he’s dealing with. “Who are you trying to fix me up with?”

It’s the same cop. Apparently he’s friends with her husband even though they don’t work in the same department anymore. “He got promoted a couple years ago, but they still talk and hang out sometimes. He was at the wedding, apparently, but I was so nervous I don’t remember anything but staring into my husband’s eyes.” She smiled a little dreamily, then added, “That and my mother-in-law getting drunk and passing out in the photographer’s lap.”

He does not go to dinner.

She mentions a young man from the bookstore, and spends a few days dropping hints about Professor Chan in the archaeology department (he has a boyfriend, Shen Wei’s met him) before the cop comes up again.

She’s never been this persistent, usually taking his refusals as a challenge to do better next time. Shen Wei is wavering. If he says yes and it’s awful then maybe she’ll stop.

And it will be awful. Shen Wei feels faithless even contemplating it.

“He’s a department chief,” Jiang Yue says in a tempting voice one afternoon toward the end of the semester. “Apparently the youngest ever. He took down a bunch of Triad bosses a few years ago and saved a bunch of people’s lives and now he’s, like, the second most powerful person in the DCPD.”

That jiggles something at the back of Shen Wei’s mind. “What’s his name?” he asks. It’s been several years since he worked with the SID, and he never had any close associates with the main DCPD but something about what she’s saying rings a distant bell.

“His name is Zhao Yunlan,” she says, excited that he’s shown some sort of interest. “I told him about you and he said I could give you his number if you were interested-”

“Absolutely not,” Shen Wei says in a dull roar.

He spends five minutes apologizing and then pretends to have a headache that he can blame his rudeness on.

Jiang Yue lets the whole thing drop after that, not just her attempts to fix him up with Zhao Yunlan, but the match-making in general. 

He feels bad about not feeling bad about it.

Everything goes back to normal though, aside from the matchmaking, so he’s reasonable certain she isn’t upset with him.

And then a few months go by and she mentions her husband is coming to pick her up for dinner. It’s getting late and it’s fairly dark out, even with the streetlights, so he offers to walk with her. Jiang Li is waiting for them on the sidewalk and he gives his wife a quick kiss, and holds his hand out to Shen Wei. “Professor! It’s been a long time. How are you?”

Shen Wei’s not great at chit-chat, but he taks Jiang Li’s hand and says something.

He’ll never remember what, because at that moment he happened to look over Jiang Li’s shoulder, and saw Kunlun.

Kunlun.

He can’t move, he can’t think, he can barely breathe. His eyes are locked onto the man leaning against the Jiangs’ car and he can’t tear them away. He’s positive if he looks away, Kunlun will vanish like a soap bubble, or turn into another person entirely

It has to be someone else. A trick of the light, his mind playing games with him. A similarity, a distant descendant whose blood ran true, a coincidence.

He stares until his eyes burn, but Kunlun remains.

He’s as beautiful as Shen Wei remembers.

Kunlun is dressed in modern clothes: heavy black leather boots, tight fitting denim pants that do nothing to disguise his lean calves and muscular thighs. He’s wearing a grey shirt beneath a black leather motorcycle jacket. His hair is short, in the modern fashion, brushed forward so it almost falls over his eyes, and his beard is little more than scruff, a carefully groomed five o’clock shadow.

He’s sucking on a candy, the same kind he gave Shen Wei that first night. The same candy that belonged to the scrap of paper Shen Wei carried in the pendant over his heart.

He’s too far away for Shen Wei to see his eyes. 

And then Kunlun looks up at him.

And smiles politely, with no sign of recognition.

And looks back down at his phone.

The Jiangs leave but not before Jiang Yue leans in and whispers “I told you he was gorgeous, didn’t I?” and laughs in a friendly way at his stunned expression.

After they leave, Shen Wei stands there, watching the car vanish from sight, Kunlun, his Kunlun, vanishing with it, gone as soon as he was found again.

His Kunlun, who is, apparently, Zhao Yunlan, the son of a monster. Somehow. Reincarnation, or - the lollipops, the gun, baobei. Shen Wei has long entertained the idea that Kunlun had been familiar with the modern day, possibly a time traveler - the Hallows were near-infinite in their power, when used properly and combined. Perhaps Kunlan had always been Zhao Yunlan. Perhaps he looked at Shen Wei with eyes devoid of recognition because… Because this was the man who would become Kunlun, but wasn’t yet the man Shen Wei loved.

“Fuck,” Shen Wei said, softly but with great feeling, and went to send Jiang Yue an email asking her for that date after all.