#also if you want to know anything about the snippets im working on or anything

[hoshinasblade]

second best |3| hoshina soshiro

PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART 3

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 2k trigger warnings: a bit suggestive at the end author's note: i promised a part three so here it is, hope you guys like it! likes, replies, and reblogs are welcome but im begging you not to copy or steal my works. feel free to sign up for my taglist (which i swear im gonna use on the next fic lol), and i appreciate when people send me asks so let me know your thoughts (or send me hoshina pics, that'd be great too). my masterlist is here! also i gotta let you know that i might put the next fic on hold because i am so tempted to start a short nsfw collection instead - just one-shots so it won't be a lot of commitments. who knows cause i might write angst and nsfw at the same time 😉

soshiro's hands were trembling. you noticed because it has not happened in a while - you cannot even recall the last time you've seen the man nervous, much less shaking. you were going to himeji that morning; hoshina had snatched your backpack from you - "when i said i would make it up to ya, i mean in every way i can," he said, sounding gentle and sincere that your only choice was to let him carry your belongings and blush as he also intertwined his fingers with yours while walking.

there is this story you have been hearing for a while - the red string theory, it is called. according to it, people who are destined to be together will always find each other despite everything and anything. when you were a kid, instead of thinking it romantic, you rather thought it is frightening - fate is a difficult enemy to go against: if it is meant to be, then it will be eventually. when you grew up, you held that belief as a prayer - it means that whoever is the one chosen for you may get lost on their way to you, but they will always - always - arrive.

you glanced at hoshina soshiro and you knew you were right to believe.

it was roughly a four-hour journey from tachikawa to himeji by train, and during the entire ride, even when he fell asleep for a short while, your boyfriend did not let go of your hand. you complained about your palms being sweaty as a joke, and he only loosened his hold. you understood - he is making it up to you, but he is also making up for all the wasted time.  

"we're almost there," you told him when he startled from his nap. his bangs were slightly messy, and he bumped his head to your shoulders. "comfy," he hummed. you giggled.

you are still trying to navigate through dating a high-ranking officer of an anti-kaiju defense force unit. relationships aren't strictly forbidden but still frowned upon, which was a little bit of an issue between you and soshiro when you had a proper and long-overdue conversation about what you guys were. confessing is one thing, but when being friends is all you've known your whole life, you know adjustments are supposed to be made here and there.

 which brings you and him back to your hometown.

he didn't exactly disagree with you, but you are aware he had his reservations about the idea of visiting himeji. "oh i'm pretty sure soichiro-kun would be surprised," you said when you were still planning the trip. "yes, we should kiss in front of him and give him a heart attack," soshiro suggested, and you weren't hundred-percent sure he was just joking. maybe you didn't want him to be.

when the streets started to look familiar, soshiro noted the sudden bounce in your pace. you and he have walked in the same alley years ago - he would wait for you after class and would even make up some ridiculous excuse so you could go home together. "i used to pretend to be tired way back just so i could convince you to slow down. i wanted to spend so much time with you," you reminisced.

"i should have known ya were head-over-heels for me," he teased.

"they miss ya, soshiro-kun. ya don't have anything to worry about." the change in topic wiped the smirk off his face. he was suddenly serious, sad even. there was a part of you that regretted saying the words, but he had to hear it - you only wanted to reassure him after all.

"just that i haven't been here for a long while", he said, squeezing your hand. "i don't know if they think this place is still my home."

"ya need to have faith in the people you care about, soshiro-kun. ya need to trust that they care about ya too," you solemnly advised. "i know that doesn't make any sense sometimes, but that's how i do it."

"have i told ya i love you so much?" he responded, to which you smiled.

"only a thousand times," you joked once more.

the hoshina estate is a spacious one - you have to pass through an automated black gate that directs you to the main house, the cobblestone path lined with cherry blossom trees, their delicate petals swirling when the wind blows gently; the grandeur of the home soshiro grew up in is undeniable with its traditional japanese architecture. a man with striking features and an aura of authority was waiting at the entrance, waiting for his son.

“father,” soshiro greeted the man, bowing deeply.

“an embarrassment that your friend will be the one to bring you home when you could have done it a long time ago,” soshiro’s father scolded him. his stare at soshiro was that of disappointment, which quickly disappeared when he looked at you. “ah, my dear, come on in, hurry, come on in,” he turned and said to you, inviting you in. the hoshina patriarch had always been fond of you - soshiro’s parents had wanted a daughter and they found one in you.

soshiro rolled his eyes. “my father’s favorite child is my girlfriend, great,” he muttered.

the maids made you a great dinner, cooking soshiro’s favorite food per his father’s request. conversation was light, and it was apparent that the old hoshina wanted to catch up so badly on how his son was doing, inquiring in consecutive questions about soshiro’s rank in the unit, his experiences so far, and his long-term plans in staying with the force. soshiro’s replies are detailed, but you know he intentionally did not mention all the instances where he almost died fighting.

soshiro’s father regaled you both with stories of soshiro’s childhood antics - “do ya remember, my dear, when soshiro tripped and fell on his face after training with soichiro? we were so worried, but he only fell asleep,” he recited the memory as if it was just yesterday., his kansai accent thick on his words. the tension that had lingered in the air had dissipated as you finished your meal.

“i had the guest room prepared for ya so ya can rest for tonight,” soshiro’s father had said when his son cut him off.

“no, we can sleep together,” soshiro declared, and thinking it might have sounded improper, he spoke again. “beside each other, i mean. in my room. because we’re tired. from travelling all day," he attempted to clarify but failed.

“ah, may i look forward to a grandchild soon from ya two?” color drained from your face as you slowly closed your eyes. you fought off a laugh but failed.

“ya may, but we aren’t doing that here of all places,” soshiro argued just as his father had turned his back on the both of you, amused with himself. at least now you know where soshiro got his sense of humor.

the hot shower felt great against your tensed muscles, and if you weren’t that exhausted, you would have opted for a bath instead. soshiro wanted to speak to his father alone, so when he ushered you inside his childhood bedroom, he’d let you know that he would be gone while you were cleaning yourself up. you were relieved; you haven’t seen your own father since you were a teenager, and it would be a shame to see it happening to the person you care about the most, not if you can do something about it. and this is not to say that you wanted to fix soshiro’s life - you pointed this out to him once - but he’s had a terrible habit of holding back and assuming the worst, so you had decided that if you could help him out, you would push him to the right direction.

“didn’t ya pack clothes?” his eyes were on you immediately after he came in, finding you on the bed with your phone, wearing his shirt.

“i did, but yours look better,” you replied, holding your arms out and showing him how oversized it is on you - the sleeves are passed your elbows, the hem reaching the middle of your thighs.

“they look better on ya, i agree.” he sat on the mattress for a few moments before lying down, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. “ya all good?”

“i am,” you said to him. “especially because i scanned yer photos when ye're still little while ya were gone,” you informed him then showing him a folder you created in your device - baby hoshina soshiro folder, you named it - full of duplicates you made of the framed pictures of your boyfriend all over the house. there’s one where he didn’t have any hair at all; there’s one where he was close to crying but appeared to be keeping the tears in; there’s one where he was missing a tooth but smiling like there’s no tomorrow. soshiro moved to take your phone away, but you were quicker than him.

“this is payback, for all the times ya weren’t talking to me.” you were alluding to the three long months when you were still an applicant to the defense force and soshiro acted like you were a stranger. he had apologized for it already, but it is nice to make fun of him sometimes so you brought it up. “that hurt my feelings, ya know.” you laid down beside him, invading his personal space, your shoulders touching his.

“i was stupid”, he said. “and it’s not like i could have come up to ya and said, hey i’m sorry for leaving ya in himeji, by the way i’m crazy for ya.”

“and all those times i thought ya had something with commander ashiro, oh god!” you exclaimed for effect. “by the way, the other recruits thought the same.”

“it’s not like that between her and me.” his gaze on you was brief. “it’s not like that with anyone else.”

“it better not be, because i’m leaking all yer baby photos to the first division if ya mess up,” you threatened him despite not needing to.

“i promise, i won’t.” he grabbed your hand from your side and linked it with his, cradling it to his chest before bringing it to his lips. “i’m not that stupid.”

soshiro’s childhood room was what you would expect from a teenage boy: a king-sized bed, a bookshelf of manga, a cabinet showcasing knives and blades. you never had the opportunity to enter his room even when you were kids, you realized. you looked up to the ceiling and you saw green dots that formed shapes - makeshift constellations, you recognized the patterns - little plastic stickers that you glue to surfaces. “are those supposed to be stars?”

soshiro sighed, his arm on top of his face. “yeah, uh - remember when uh - i think that was in junior high, and ye're so into astronomy? i thought it’d be a good idea to know the names of the stars to impress ya, so i started trying to memorize them.”

you shifted to face him, speechless. maybe if you had known this, if you had known the other things you are certain now that soshiro had done and was willing to do for you, you wouldn’t have wasted years questioning your place in his life and deciphering his feelings. a wave of warmth washed over you as you reached out and lifted his arm off his face, meeting his eyes.

soshiro’s lips felt as soft as it looks like, you thought as you kissed him. you pushed yourself into him, and he pulled you tighter until it seemed there was not enough air for you to breathe - until your chests were pressed together it was as if your hearts were beating as one. something sparked inside you; the sensation of being so close to soshiro about to consume you from within. his hand crawled to your hips and remained there. you drew back a bit after that, and when you saw the panicked look on his face, you kissed him again.

“i love you,” you told him in between pants.

the night went on, and by the end of it, hoshina soshiro discovered that his favorite sound is you moaning his name.

[starry-bi-sky]

Hello Starry! I just had a thought about your Danyal al Ghul AU, and didn't have anyone else to share it with, so here we go:

If in this universe Bruce is Jewish, and Danny knows this(probably from a google search), he may wear a Star of David necklace to have a piece of his father with him at all times, since he knows he will never get to meet him. Or maybe the necklace sits in a box under a floorboard, because he can't stand the constant reminder of the father he'll never get to have. Maybe he observes Sam and her family celebrate Jewish holidays, or he learns how to by himself, but uses the time to mourn, instead of celebrate.

Anyways, hope all is well, and thank you for sharing your writing!

AAHHHH??? YOUR BRAIN??? Thank you!! I love sharing my writing, it soothes my need for attention lol. lmao, even. (Also how did you know i was thinking of my danyal al ghul au today -- i have an unfinished draft that i was thinking of delving into after my work meeting) also aahh!!!!!!!! im so happy that you wanted to share your thoughts with me about it <333

But dude BOTH of these ideas are soo?? GOOD and ANGSTY. I love angsty. Danny would for sure know if Bruce was Jewish, lil guy did an obsessive amount of research on his dad the moment he got his hands on a computer and figured out how they worked. Danny has like, a three inch thick folder almost on his father alone. Anything he could get his hands on, he's got it. That thickness is almost exclusively from his first like, six months in Amity Park. He keeps it in a box in his closet, along with his growing-folder on Damian and his achievements as Damian Wayne. He pages through it when he's feeling like mourning.

First off: him wearing a Star of David necklace to feel connected to Bruce. That is SO sad and I love it so much. He bought it with an allowance he'd been given when he first started living with the Fentons, he keeps it tucked under his shirt so nobody even knows he has it. Sam and Tucker don't until it slips out while he's hanging out with them and when they ask him about it, Danny very reluctantly tells them that his father is Jewish. When he's distracted, nervous, or sad, he fidgets with it. How this looks is that he looks like he's kinda rubbing his chest, like ungrasping and grasping something.

Second Off: him keeping it in a box under the floorboards. That is also so, so good. He's got it in the box along with a few other things that remind him of his father and Damian and his mother. He takes it out when he's feeling particularly lonely and homesick, it's a feeling that never really goes away even after five years of living in Amity Park. It's like a longing for something you'll never see again, but isn't that just how grief works? i can just imagine him sitting against the bed, late at night and back from patrol. He's still in his ghost form, his katana laid on the ground next to him, and his almost bird-like cape pooling down beside him as he cups the necklace in his hand like he's cradling an egg. Maybe he's bleeding from somewhere, and he's telling the necklace about patrol, murmured soft in Arabic.

When he finds out Sam is Jewish he probably, after much consideration, asks if he can observe their holidays -- after all, researching Jewish holidays only does so much. Sam agrees when he explains why, much to her parents chagrin, and he sometimes tags along. But once he gets an understanding of how they go, he starts doing it on his own. Somewhat. He celebrates with Sam for most of it, and then has some time to himself where he celebrates it on his own. So it's a little bit of both.

^^^ which brings me to thinking about my danyal snippet here where Sam is at a Wayne gala and tears into her parents over Danny in front of Bruce. And it's making me think of, with this idea in mind, Sam in a moment of emotional impulsivity, saying "I know that he wears a Star of David because his father is Jewish and he wants to be closer to him, because he loves him so very fucking much." And while saying that, briefly makes direct eye contact with Bruce as a way to tell him "I know you're his fucking dad. Look at the son you have left behind."

If only for the emotional gut punch that can leave Bruce with. 🥰

Thank you for the ask! I had a lot of fun responding to it, have a fantastic evening/day/night.

[hiemaldesirae]

Thorn here:

Oh...ohhh!! Vox arrives in hell but instead of legs he just has a Shark's tail! He has a TV head and a Shark's tail and Alastor is instantly smitten.

He gathers this new sinner up, protectively taking him to his house/radio tower and setting up aquarium and putting Vox in it, eyes warm.

Vox isn't amused. Why is this weird stag demon nuzzling him and calling him his muse? Vox is no one's anything!

Alastor adores how his muse attempts to shock him! (He has to buy shock resistant glass and he learns Vox does much better in salt water then fresh-(he brutally killed the Imps at the pet store that told him sharks would do fine in fresh water. His poor mate's gills were messed up for days!)) He is a bit irritated on how His beloved muse prefers only fish (fish sinners, but what his precious mate doesn't know won't hurt him)) but he can get past it.

HAS NO ONE TAUGHT ALASTOR NOT TO PICK UP RANDOM ANIMALS HE SEES ON THE STREET ????????? oh my god . this little FREAK i cannot believe he sees a pretty fish on the street and immediately takes him home. i really want to pry his head open and study him

i might snatch this concept to make mermay oneshots if ur okay w that btw. and im STILL working on the killer au i prommy i just have. wayyy too many wips and work to do irl lmfao. but for now. Snippet of writing because i love you /p(arasocial and platonic) (that first part is a joke. legally)

"You still haven't told me why you decided to keep me," Vox frowns as he hangs over the edge of the tank, watching Alastor steadily as he prepares a cut of sinner meat for the shark demon.

"Frankly, my dear, it was a burst of sudden inspiration on my part," Alastor hums. "It isn't every day you see someone as unique-looking as you, after all!"

"Is this about the TV head?" Vox frowns deeper.

"Well, not exactly--"

"It's about the TV head, isn't it?" Vox ducks underneath the water of his tank when Alastor doesn't reply, taking the others silence as an affirmative answer.

The deer demon sighs as his companion's body slowly becomes too ensconced in the murky depths of the tank for him to properly monitor, focusing his efforts back on making sure the fish sinner's corpse was prepared properly for Vox to ingest easily. Keeping a pet was much harder than Rosie had made it out to be- but in fairness, it was a burden he had decided to take upon himself.

After all, the day that Vox had appeared in Hell, it had been *his* arms that the sinner had fallen into- a stroke of luck, truly, as he had been vicariously gesturing to Rosie the motions he'd made for a recent and more theatrical hunt and been in *just* the right position to catch the poor dear- which was clearly a sign that Vox was meant to be his. And now, with the fascinating darling having been swimming around in the expansive tank of his living room for more than six months now, Alastor could confidently say that he had never made a choice more correct in his life.

Well, maybe not. Killing his father in cold blood had also been a pretty correct choice- maybe he should amend that to *afterlife*? Yes, that would work.

Alastor hums as he finishes the plating of the fish sinner, turning around to the tank with the finished meal in hand. He knocks on the glass wall- not expecting an answer, he goes to place the tray down next to the little window next to the bubble of air, only to be met with a much more- *human* looking face than expected.

Two glowing eyes, one the striking blue of larimar and another the rich brown of axinite, meet Alastor's own. Glowing marks stripe along the remarkably human face, as the shark sinner in front of him grins nervously. "I got rid of the TV. Will you let me go now?"

Alastor blinks.

Once, then twice. In the silence, he can see the nervous hopefulness on the demon's face flicker slightly as he breathes slowly, carefully setting the tray of food aside as he traces the outline of the other's face in the glass.

"Let you go, my dear? ...Oh, dear. I think I've been quite misconstrued. You aren't going anywhere, my lovely siren."

[the-inheritance-games]

Couple questions I have after reading the first 7 Ch.

SPOILERS——

1. What do Jameson and Avery and the rest of the Hawthornes know about Lyra?

Jameson seemed intrigued by Lyra, and he apparently told Gray the wrong time so he would be late, was this bc he wanted to observe her himself for some reason? Avery also apparently chose Lyra, so its possible that Grayson suggested Lyra as a deserving player, but that doesnt mean he told them everything or at least I hope not bc like Lyra said he is the only one she's ever told and that's her story to tell.

Also there's always a possibility that Grayson also doesnt even know who she is, but that's unlikely in my opinion.

2. Why did rohan let Gigi have the ticket? Did he know it was her before he left it there? Why does he “need” a queen?

Rohan is a mystery to me idk

3. Who is the third player that got the ticket? And why?

I'm guessing its Brady Daniels since he was not on the chopper but you never know it could still be Either Knox or Oddette

4. This is the biggest question I have is, What happened during the FIRST tgg?

In the little snippet of the press release we got from Rohans pov the reporters were asking Avery some interesting questions about how this years game was different than the first, there was also the comment jameson made about how Gray “will be making sure everyone follows the rules this year” which implies that maybe some people didnt last year and they needed to bring in the big guns, aka Grayson, this year (lol)

5. Why hawthorne Island of ALL places?

Like that just seems like bad PR and just extremely questionable to bring 7 strangers and lock them on the island where people died…..

Also wasn't Avery told never to step foot in that town again by her grandmother? 😭

Like im worried for my girls safety and the rest of them too. But also this could mean we could be learning more about Averys family or might find out that they somehow tie into this story.

Or maybe that Lyra is tied with the people who supposedly died on that island like Collin, ik that was a theory out there too but idk much about that so I cant say much on it but if you know pls let me know.

5. One last thing not really a question but how is it gonna work if grayson himself also doesnt know anything about the game? I feel like he should know something but idk

I have more thoughts but I think im gonna hold off until we know more bc im supposed to be focusing on other things rn and I cant, soooo yeah :)

[thesherrinfordfacility]

What is your take on the whole "the Metatron threatened Aziraphale off-screen & Aziraphale lied to protect Crowley" theory that seems to have become very popular in the fandom? Personally, I think it does raise some interesting points, but I'm not sold on it for a variety of reasons. I love your metas btw! ❤️

hi anon!💕 thank you so much, that's very kind of you!

gosh, been a while since i've had a meta ask!✨ hmm. tbh, im in two camps, and i do think there's some merit in the two of them matching up. i wrote a couple of posts on this, breaking down the final fifteen practically shot-by-shot, and have read countless different takes from other brilliantly observant people, but essentially my thought process is this (lengthy explanation under the cut, im afraid - im a bit meta-rusty):

aziraphale did not want to go to heaven. that much is clear from the two refusals he gives the metatron. furthermore, he rejects heaven for what it currently is and what it stands for (and, arguably imo, reaches the end of his tether with god, too) in s1, when he realises that heaven is also firmly working to bring about armageddon. that it wasn't just the agenda of the archangels; the metatron, the voice of god, confirms that war is the goal, no matter the collateral. and god does not intervene. this continues throughout s2; aziraphale is notably still disdainful of heaven, is happy enough being separated from it... but it should be noted that he has replaced heaven, and the structure and comfort it offered him, with crowley ("it's nice to tell someone about the good things you've done... now that im not reporting to heaven...")

i do think what we're shown on screen is accurate. there's allowance for the fact that the flashbacks to the aziraphale-metatron conversation may be biased and therefore unreliable, being from aziraphale's pov, but... i don't think there will be anything necessarily revealed that wasn't shown to us in the FF. there might be snippets of that conversation that he's kept from crowley, but has essentially seen fit to share with the audience... so personally i think it's accurate, and nothing is missing. and tbh, if nothing else, it would feel narratively cheap if the 'solution' to the FF was in something being purposefully withheld from the audience. in that respect, i do take the FF at face value

we know that aziraphale has a low evaluation of himself. it's presented to us that he's evidently hedonistic and enjoys earthly pleasures just as much as crowley does, but i don't think it's as evident until shax's jabs during the demon raid just how much aziraphale actually might be - frankly - ashamed of these things. i think on a fundamental level he likes being an angel, it's all he's ever known. but even if he accepts that he may be a bit of a bastard - is even slightly proud of it - i think he's equally self-conscious of the fact that who he truly is will never be enough for heaven, god, or to warrant his own angelhood, and all these things he enjoys equally serve as a source of shame in how far it removes him from what his belief on what a good angel should be

in the same vein, he's caught between the devil and the deep blue sea in that he might feel that he's not enough for crowley, either. case in point for me, unfortunately, is that crowley has constantly reaffirmed that they are both on their own side, but when aziraphale opts to shelter gabriel, arguably the right thing to do for many reasons but ultimately because that's the kind of person aziraphale is (imo), crowley retracts it... possibly unconsciously, and completely understandably, but aziraphale definitely notes it ("i thought we carved it out for ourselves!") and his resulting petulant, bratty dismissal is textbook responding to rejection with rejection. especially when aziraphale clearly was not totally on side with "our own side" at the end of s1, but has come around to it and accepted it in the four years since. so, it feels like aziraphale has done what he considers to be the right thing to do, a core principle of who he is in modern day (having learnt some very hard lessons along the way) but that's enough for crowley to take back everything he had said previously

aziraphale loves crowley, that much is evident. and he may well remember the angel that crowley used to be with some degree of fondness. however, a) im not sold that the pre-fall flashback is aziraphale's POV, and b) that does not mean that aziraphale preferred crowley as an angel. imo, he fell for crowley whilst he was a demon, but because crowley was crowley. a demon that pretends otherwise, but is at heart, just a little bit, a good person. the concept of good is important to aziraphale, but he hasn't removed it from being a purely angelic trait. ergo, i think he considers crowley to have fallen unfairly, that it was a gross injustice (and i say this fully believing that 'just asking questions' may not have been the reason why crowley fell), and that if anyone deserves to be restored - to be forgiven and essentially be asked for forgiveness in return - its crowley

similarly, i think we can be led to assume that aziraphale doesn't actually know anything about crowley's fall, nor his actual thoughts and feelings on the matter. all he knows is what crowley told him - "sauntered vaguely downwards" - and up until the FF crowley hasn't truly (as far as i can recall) ever declared that he doesn't want the chance to be an angel again. he's obviously derisive of heaven, that is very clear, but when he states "unforgivable, that's what i am", i think that registered to aziraphale that crowley might feel like he won't be forgiven, but doesn't mean he wouldn't want it. all the sneers crowley has volleyed at heaven and the archangels might have been, up until now, simply been anger and resentment for something that was unfair in the first place. add to this that crowley has been placed in danger on multiple occasions by hell, and again i think the offer of restoration - to be beyond the reach of hell altogether - is lucrative to aziraphale... and it's now within his power to give.

so. i do think that there is an implicit threat in the aziraphale-metatron discussion. aziraphale visibly becomes very uncomfortable when crowley is brought up, the exact nature of their relationship heavily implied as not having escaped the metatron's notice. aziraphale is not happy as he walks back to the bookshop, and he's erratic and scattered when he delivers the news and offer to crowley. a threat may not have been intended, let alone been vocalised, but i do think aziraphale feels under threat of some kind... that any way you slice it, he doesn't feel like he has any choice in returning to heaven, and instead chooses to make hay whilst the sun shines etc.

but equally... i think aziraphale believes the best in everyone and everything. he has constantly been ostracised, mocked, or ignored as being irrelevant to heaven - and even himself perhaps wonders if he should be an angel at all. but here the metatron is, recognising that aziraphale might be "the angel for the job". whilst i don't think aziraphale buys in to the metatron's flattery, because im fairly sure that the angel as demonstrably intelligent as he is would potentially consider that the flattery is superficial and overplayed (especially given how nearly all of it contradicts the s1 conversation that he and the metatron had), i do think aziraphale might be thinking '...yeah, i am the angel for the job. just not the job you're intending'.

metatron mentions nothing about 'making a difference', but that's exactly what aziraphale tries to implore with crowley; that they could change things, and him being in charge - with crowley by his side, in on the subterfuge - might just be what is required. exactly as the people they currently are. there is something about heaven that aziraphale believes is worth saving, and i think that's where the "its the side of truth, of light... of good" comes in. qualities that he thinks heaven should be, was always meant to be, and he could restore. crowley however considers the endeavour to be utterly pointless.

i also think there's an element of doublespeak going on... kinda. more specifically, that aziraphale is speaking to two audiences in the scene (three, if you count us!); he's talking in a way that sounds entirely like he's dancing to metatron's tune, that he's heaven's man through-and-through... but also in a way that he's trying to sell the idea to crowley in turn - and is speaking in a way that won't tip either audience off to the full reality of the situation as he sees it. i wouldn't go so far as to say it's a code, though - e.g. i personally don't accept the ''time out' signal but crowley missed it' theory - but instead that he's trying to lead the metatron into underestimating him, and also perhaps downplay the exact truth of the situation from crowley. if crowley were to know that aziraphale is frightened or uneasy, or felt under threat in any way, i think he might be afraid that crowley would do something drastic, or at least inadvertently give 'the game' away. nonetheless though, he has to reveal some of his true intentions to crowley, in order to bring him on side - just very subtly.

regarding the restoration offer - kinda went over it above, but i do think aziraphale genuinely thought that crowley would want it, and would take it not just so he could be an angel again, but also in order to help change heaven and be with aziraphale. that being said, as he walks into the bookshop, i think a part of him recognised it might be a hard sell, and instead aziraphale would need to frame it in a way as being like... a disguise, or a cover, or some sort? but aziraphale severely underestimated crowley's feelings on heaven and angelhood, even if i don't think it was an unfair assumption to make, either. aziraphale was excited about it because it was something he could actually give crowley, something within his power to bestow - to right a wrong that he's possibly always thought was a gross injustice ever since job.

god im sorry this has taken so long but - no, i don't think the metatron threatened aziraphale off-screen, but i do think aziraphale feels threatened by the discussion and implications within it, and whilst feeling that he has no way out, instead opts to return to heaven to exact his influence - as an angel that's not like the rest of them - and to play his own game... to do the right thing, and make a difference.

and no, i don't think he lied to crowley to protect him. i think he had to toe a line between 'the metatron might somehow be able to hear and observe us, so i have to speak in such a way that makes it seem im on heaven's side', and 'what i say to crowley has to be without cottoning him onto the fact that i feel threatened, bc a) he might do something silly and b) the metatron would know, but what i say also has to be worded so that he can see why i truly want to go back'.

thank you for the ask, i really enjoyed it!!! sorry you have to read an essay tho oops💕

[plush-rabbit]

Cookies and Cream

I saw someone on the jonathan ohnn x reader tag ask for angst and rejection and im kinda in a mood (when am i not tbh) so here’s a snippet!! 

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: Realistically, i would like take a chance, but like also if my partner showed up with spots and no clothes, i’d be like oh:^) im about to make an important decision:^)

He’s a nerd- that’s a given with his profession and PhD, but he’s a dorky type of nerd that makes you smile. You like to think that you have a nice relationship with the doctor. He’s cute and awkward. He knows what you like and dislike.

You remember him buying you chocolate- the cookies and cream type- and knew that there was something going on when you don’t eat the candy. Explaining how you have such an aversion to spotted things always seemed silly when explaining to others- you always tripped over your words or never explained it properly- but he sat and listened. He nodded, and never brought you cookies and cream chocolate ever again.

Jonathan was considerate. He was a sweetheart, always so gentle and only really let his guard down when around you. 

It’s been days since the Super-Collider exploded and it’s been days since you heard from Jonathan. You tried not to fear the worst; you reasoned to yourself that if something had happened, something bad, you would have been notified. 

You’re in the middle of scouring various articles for any mention of the deceased or lost and his name doesn't pop up. Your mouth pulls into a thin line and you groan, throwing your head back in an attempt to let out your frustration.

“Any sign of him would work out just fine,” you mumble to yourself. You pull yourself back, an arm going across to rub at your shoulder. “I just-” tears prick at your eyes. You want him to be safe. Alive. Here with you. “Please,” you beg under your breath. You just want your partner with you. 

In the room, you hear a soft plop. When you look back at the room, there’s a person in a white suit standing in your living room. You scream, grabbing at the nearest object- the television remote- and chuck it at the intruder. They yelp in response, moving awkwardly to the side, throwing something dark at the object and the remote clashes beside you, batteries spilling out.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” The person screams, hands covering their head. “I should have said something, but I only just came in.”

“Get the fuck out!” You reach for your phone, unsure if you’re going to call the police or throw it away. 

“Please don’t throw it at me.” He says your name with familiarity and disgust pools in your stomach. “I’m sorry- really, I am. I just- I don’t have your key with me and I thought knocking would’ve freaked you out more and I know I look different but-”

“Who the hell are you?” You hiss, holding the phone tight in your hand. 

“It’s me,” he says, as if that answer is anything useful. “It’s me, Jonathan,” he clarifies. After a moment where he’s positive you won’t throw anything, he pulls his arms down, and stands tall in your living room. All air escapes your lungs, and you hold whatever is left, unable to move as your phone slips from your hand and drops to the floor next to the remote. “Hi,” he says softly.

You wish you could run to him, but you’re rooted in place. With a good look, you aren’t sure what to make of him. His face is gone- hidden beneath white and a singular black spot that covers what should be his features. You can’t trust this to be your Jonathan.

“Prove it,” you mutter. You clear your throat, and stand straight, puffing out your chest. “Prove it,” you repeat with an ounce of force. Your hands curl into fists, and your heart races in your chest. “Take off the mask.”

The person in front of you laughs awkwardly, raising a hand to scratch at his neck. “I- I can’t do that.”

“I’m calling the cops,” you say, hoping that you’d be quick enough to grab your phone, unlock it, and call for the authorities. 

“No, no! I mean, uh- you like it when I kiss your hand. You kiss my palm and I press it against my lips, and when I kiss your hand you always kiss at the spot,” he says in a rush of words. “Sometimes eating strawberries is a struggle for you, so I make sure to cut them up. Um- uh,” he turns his head around as if the answers to his identity are painted on the walls. “You have this mole on you and I always kiss it when we-”

“Oh my gosh.” You interrupt him, and there’s a chill going through your body. “Jonathan?” He nods, taking a step forward. “What- What are you wearing?”

He freezes in his spot, and stands straight. “I’m not wearing anything. I- Something bad happened back at Alchemax. I mutated with a black hole and-” he lifts his arms up in a show of himself- “I’m this. It’s skin.” He pinches at a part of his arm and pulls, and it stays connected to him.

“Skin?” You hiss out, staring at him up and down. “What do you mean?”

“It was Spider-man. He- he did this and now I look like this- but-” he shakes his head and takes a step towards you- “I’m home. I’m sorry. I know you wanted to move in with me but uh-some things happened and-” he pauses when he notices you haven’t stopped staring at him. “I know I look different, but it’s me. You know me.” He says your name softly, and you can hear the smile in his voice even though there’s no mouth. When you don’t speak, he presses further. “Please. Please say something.”

“What do you want me to say?” You ask, and it comes out cold.

“Tell me that you’re happy to see me,” he offers. When you don’t make a sound, he gives another option. “Ask if I’m okay.”

You weren’t entirely sure if you were happy to see him. You think you are. You should be. You wanted to see him just moments ago. You should have specified that you wanted to see your partner as your partner and not some mutated person. 

Taking another glance, your stomach drops at all the spots- all the holes that cover his body. You should be happy. You should be holding him and asking if he’s okay. You should be thanking the stars that he’s in front of you. But you can’t. And you won’t. Not when the sight of him makes you nauseous. 

You can’t look at him. It’s too many spots- too many holes. You think you’re going to be sick. You remember telling him how you hated spots- trypophobia is what he told you it was. You couldn’t eat cookies and cream flavored anything because of the spots, on bad days, strawberries made you sick. He knew that. He knows that. He’s the one who was always so careful to not give you so many punctured items. But he’s here now and you hate it. 

Guilt eats at you. It makes you nauseous, and scared. You wish you could look at him. He croaks out your name, and even without a face, you can tell that he’s crying. Your teeth are clenched, molars pressing into each other, and when you peek, you turn away again. No. You can’t look at him. Not when he’s like this. Not when he’s not Jonathan. 

“Please,” he croaks. You hate how your name sounds on his tongue. It’s pathetic and sniveling, and you can’t help but swallow the bile that burns your throat. “It’s still me. It’s still your Jonathan. I- I know I look different, but I- I’m sorry.”

“Jonathan,” you say, spit laying heavy on your tongue, “looking different is like a scar or bleaching your hair. You-” you gesture to him- “don’t even look-” human. He doesn’t look human, but even as you’re close to being sick, you can’t tell him that. That would be going too far. “You don’t even have eyes.”

With his long legs- too long to ever have been human- he takes quick strides towards you. His stomach touches the edge of the couch, and you see the spots swirl, contracting in size, and erratic as he speaks. 

You’re going to have to wash the couch- somehow.

“I can still see!” You shut your eyes tight when he speaks. “I- I don’t have anyone else.” His voice quivers. Closing your eyes was a mistake- it still sounds like him. It is him, but it isn’t. “I thought you- you wanted to move in with me.” The sentence breaks your heart. His voice makes you want to hold him like you did nights ago.

The air is cold and it makes your skin rise with goosebumps. You wonder for a moment if his skin does the same, but the mental image of it makes you regret even thinking about it- about him. Your lungs fill with air, and you have to brace yourself to look at him.

Looking at him is so much worse than you could have imagined. The spot in the middle of his face is deflated near the top, and he’s sad. Him expressing emotions with a spot makes everything so much worse. The dark of it spirals, the edges of it fading into a small cluster of spots that reminds you of poorly mixed cookies and cream. It takes all of you to look at him. 

“I wanted to move in when you-” when he looked human- “when you had a job. When you - where even if you lost the job, you could- I don’t know, find another one.” You’re shallow. You wish you weren’t. You wish it were another poor soul that got infected with spots.

“Please,” his voice is fragile, tense and heavy, and his hands rise, and they’re loosely wrapped around your own, until you pull back, scrambling to get away. 

“Don’t!” You hold your hands in a clawed pose, shaking until they form into fists. “Don’t,” you whisper out, pulling your arms closer to your body and further away from him.

His body is shaking, shoulders rising and falling, and there are these broken gasps of air coming from him. He’s calling your name, pleading for you to accept his apologies. He feels bad about touching you, and you can’t help but want to wash your skin until it burns. 

“I’m sorry,” he wheezes out. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Please-” your name sounds broken when he speaks it out loud- “I promise I’ll find a way to reverse this. We can figure it out. You- You said that you would take care of me when I was sick.” 

“Sick, Jonathan,” you spit out, unable to stop yourself from glaring at the man across from you. “Like the cold or something serious like a broken bone or fucking radiation poisoning. Fuck!” You look away from him, and catch his reflection in a piece of furniture. It’s warped and unsightly. “It was shit like that Jonathan.” Tears pool in your eyes- burning and overflowing, and your face scorches under all your emotions. “Not this. Not when you don’t look-” you have to say it, it’s lodged in your throat, and it’ll stay stuck there until you get rid of it now- “human.” You’re the absolute worst- you’re sure of it. 

Your name is called once more. You hiccup and keep your gaze away from him. “It’s still me,” he says in a low voice, hurt interlaced into every letter. “We can- I know that this is new and it’ll take some getting used to, but we can make it work.” You stay silent, biting on the inside of your cheeks to keep yourself from crying. “I wouldn’t leave you if the situations were reversed.” You flinch, and you hate that you know he’s speaking the truth. He wouldn’t leave you. Not when you needed him the most. You wish the building would crumble and you’d be crushed by stone and pipes. “I won’t bring this up ever again. We can figure it out, and I’ll never hold this against you. I promise. We can start fresh.” He so desperately clings to the relationship, and you both know that if you were to move forward, you could never forget this conversation. He could never forget how you were so quick to abandon him. “I promise.”

It’s selfish. You do this for yourself. You want to live a life that doesn’t involve hiding a man who is longer human. “I want to go out on dates. I want to watch a movie.” You turn to him, and the tears burn themselves into your skin. “I want my friends to see you.” You shake your head and take a step back, furthering yourself from the man before you. “I can’t do this, Jonathan.”

He shakes his head, and you wish that you cared for him the way that he cared for you. “We can do that. I can do that.” He takes a step forward, and you take another step back. “I- I can wear clothes and hide myself and we can go out.” The spots on his body swirl, expanding and moving across his body. They break apart at the edges, scattering smaller spots across him, and it makes the acid in your stomach fill your mouth. “Don’t do this,” he pleads. “Please.” He’s crying, and you hate that you can’t bring yourself to comfort him. 

“I can’t see you anymore, Jonathan.” You turn yourself away from him. “I mean it. I can’t-” you wave a hand towards his direction- “I need you to leave Jonathan.”

“You can’t be serious.” You don’t answer, and that in itself is an answer. “I- I thought you would still want me.” You flinch at the words. You thought the same too. “Please don’t do this. I promise, you won’t see my holes. You can cover me and I’ll- I’ll hide and-”

“Jonathan,” you say curtly. “I need you to go.” You refuse to look at him. “Please, Jonathan. Just- Just get out.” Even in your worst of fights with him, you had never kicked him out, and now when he needs you the most, you kick him out. You wish that someone would put you out of your misery.

There’s a pause in the room, and you can hear his ragged breathing. “I thought you loved me.” You refuse to answer. “I love you.” You grit your teeth and shut your eyes until organic shapes in different colors swirl behind your eyelids. The confession makes you bite your tongue. 

It’s silent for a long time, and when you open your eyes, you’re alone in your home. The only evidence that gave away that something bad happened was the television remote and your phone that lay on the floor. A sob cracks through your chest, and you smother it with your hand, forcing yourself not to cry. Not now. Not when it was you that demanded the break-up. You wanted him, but not when he was this- when he was that. You wanted your Jonathan.

[deusvervewrites]

okay good cus i have au brainrot and a sleeping problem

right now im working on lov traitor himiko bc she has done no wrong and possibly one of my favorite characters bc have i mentioned shes awesome /lh

also how do you make sure your characterization is right? ive deleted work before after working on it simply because they got slowy ooc over the course of the snippet lol

(sorry if im just barraging you with asks just tell me to stop if youre uncomfy as i mentioned i have brainrot haha)

yeah word dump (im sorry)

(This is the Anon from this Ask, but I didn't get around to this right away)

I'm not going to say Toga did nothing wrong but I love her, and the idea of her as a traitor is wild. Given her shapeshifting powers, she's probably the best situated for it after Shigaraki himself. Also she's a middle-school dropout homeless teenager so figuring out how she has the resources to do what she does could be fun

[Writing advice starts here]

For characterization, all characters are at their core comprised of three questions: 'What does this character want more than anything else?', 'Why does this character want it?', and 'How is this character going to get it?'

If you know those three questions you can handle pretty much anything. Here, let's give an example.

Bakugou:

What does Bakugou want more than anything else? To be the Number One Hero

Why does he want it? Because he has no self-worth unless people are praising him, so he's set his sights on the top celebrity in the world.

How is he going to get it? Going to UA High School.

On the other hand, Midoriya:

What does Midoriya want more than anything else? To help people.

Why does he want it? Systemic discrimination has given him a strong sense of justice and compassion for others.

How is he going to get it? Going to UA High School.

You can see how these answers inform other parts of their personality--Bakugou is insecure, so he lashes out. Midoriya is compassionate, so he empathizes with the antagonists. Additionally, Bakugou's answers change over time in response to his character development.

While thinking of characterization as a list of traits can certainly help, knowing these three questions makes it easier to keep a character consistent even as they develop in response to events.

Toga, for instance:

What does Toga want more than anything else? To live freely and not be judged for drinking blood.

Why does she want it? Her parents abused her, and she's never had the chance.

How is she going to get it? Running away from home. Later, joining the League of Villains.

Obviously, characters want more than one thing at a time, which can create drama when they have to choose between something they want versus The Thing they want more than anything else.

You can also use these questions to create character foils. As mentioned above, Bakugou and Midoriya have the same answer to the third question, but similarities and differences can come from any of those three questions.

Let's say, hypothetically, you're writing a fantasy story about three kingdoms in an uneasy peace. You might have characters who want to unite those three nations under one banner that look something like this.

Character A:

What does she want more than anything else? To unite the three nations.

Why does she want it? A mixture of nationalist pride as the crown princess and a desire for revenge.

How is she going to get it? A war of unification.

While Character B:

What does he want more than anything else? To unite the three nations.

Why does he want it? To put an end to the racial prejudice he faced as a child.

How is he going to get it? Diplomatic schemes and manipulations.

And you've got two characters who are suddenly very similar in some ways and completely incompatible in others.

(And you thought you had word dump!)

[catreginae]

okay i really really want to start reading your vampire wars thing because first of all, im OBSESSED with the concept, and second, it just seems cool as hell, but i’ve been unable to read recently so i haven’t had a chance to get to it. ITS ON MY LIST THO 🙌🙌🙌

BUT I STILL WANNA KNOW ABOUT HIM HE SEEMS SO COOL. I don’t wanna ask annoying questions cos I feel like most of the one’s I have are things you’ve probably already answered haha, BUT TELL ME ABOUT UR SPECIAL GUY. Is there anything in particular you just really really wanna talk about? Any little details you’re really proud of that you want people to notice? Can he turn into a particularly fluffy little bat? If so would bat Wars appreciate head pats? Is there a specific vampire lore that inspired this?

-crazylittlejester

Sorry this took so long! This is the first ask I got after asking for them but it's the last I got to!

I think people realized these things but I’m going to talk about them anyway!

Warriors has bad self-esteem. He’s super protective of the others. He has the ability to regenerate, so it’s hard to hurt him in a way that actually matters. He can pretty much bounce back from anything. Anyway, all three of these aspects of Warriors feed into each other. He doesn’t care about what happens to him because he can regenerate. The pain is worth it if the others are safe. He thinks keeping the others safe by taking the really bad hits is how he’s earning his keep in the group because he has a hard time accepting that they actually like him for who he is. The others are working on it!

This boy is a pacer. When he’s restless and antsy, or hopped up on blood, he just starts pacing. He cannot help it.

Warriors is actually the sleepiest in the chain and beats even Sky. I headcanon Sky with sleep apnea (because of projection) but Warriors ends up sleeping the most because being half-vampire is actually really hard on his body. I like it imagine that sleep is the glue that keeps his Hylian half and vampire half together to make one mostly functional person. This is why he can pretty much fall asleep immediately if he’s injured but also had some blood.

The fluffy bat thing is a plan but hasn’t happened yet. It’s not a vampire thing in this AU (it is a nod to it at least?) nor is it his shadow crystal form. It’s wizzrobe bullshittery that he actually saw some use in so he begged Lana for some way to have regular access to a bat form. It’s probably some sort of jewellery. I wrote a very small snippet about Four throwing a tiny bat Warriors into the air to help him figure out lift. Of course, he’s a vampire bat because they can run on the ground and I think that’s pretty neat. Go look up a zoo feeding them blood, they just run on the ground and take little sippies out of a bowl.

And finally, the inspiration for this AU is a movie from the 80s called The Lost Boys. It inspired his appearance a little bit (he’s got the same yellow and red eyes). Lore wise, some of the abilities made it over but I used a lot of different inspirations for this AU and of course, I had to try to remix it fit Zelda too. The Lost Boys is the first inspiration though because I was in that rabbit hole when I wrote the first chapter.

[doppelgangercomic]

another update. love that for me

hey guys, dan here again!!! wanted to give another update on progress!

so if you follow my main you know im also working on other stories/comics at the same time as dpgii! my dbz oc comic "mirrors" is my current baby that im putting most of my time into. having said that, i kind of..havent been working on any doppelganger pages x'D but theres more to it than just being occupied with another comic, which is what i wanted to talk about!

the original plan for dpgii was that i was going to just do the entirety of chapter 1 as a comic and then stop, allowing everyone to read the fic afterward once they got a taste of the story. then i realized i didnt have the energy or interest to invest into a full chapter, so i decided to compromise with saying i'd do a small scene from each chapter instead. THEN i realized i dont have the motivation for even THAT much...and i left it at the first five pages.

i guess that's where i'm at right now? im kinda lowkey getting back into danny phantom for reasons i kinda talked about on main a while back, so my interest in dpg has been on and off rather than just..off x'D but ive been considering at LEAST, if nothing else, drawing the one scene i was excited for--or...i guess in this case, the whole chapter. chapter 5! it has the most action and the most drama--just like the og comic--and i was really looking forward to drawing it!

so im thinking i might do that :] however this could change too..so i dont want to promise anything! apologies if any of u were excited for a full comic or even little snippets 🙏 its just hard to invest so much time and energy into something i only have a little bit of interest in..as much as i genuinely love it

i guess as a reminder, my main is @eirian, my art blog is @dansaiyanart, and my other currently-running comic blogs are @mirrorscomic and @villain-school! also, the FULL SEQUEL is available as a fic here if you'd like to read what i had planned!

the future of doppelganger is uncertain, but it will always be important to me u_u <3 thank you all so much for the support youve given over the years, it means the actual world to me and was the reason i started making comics beyond doppelganger at all!

[heiayen]

love across the stars various x gn!reader

summary: small snippets of you and your lover, but each universe and scenario is different <3

tags: snippets, modern au (yoimiya, kazuha, shenhe, ayaka, albedo) canon divergence (wanderer), this is just many aus where you meet the character, established relationship (ayaka, shenhe, albedo, xiao), pre-relationship (wanderer, kazuha, yoimiya), 100+ words each

notes: *crawls out of the grave* im alive!! not really though!! anyways this is a part of @favonius-library gift exchange event and this is a gift for @soleillunne!! i hope ull enjoy it <3

WANDERER

Wanderer was plagued with... dreams. He would wake up near a waterfall, in a quiet forest, interrupted only by the gentle playing of a harp. Your harp.

You would always sit next to the water, strumming the strings, but never daring to talk. Wanderer didn't either. Though, he did ask Nahida once about it, after she noticed his thinking face.

"It seems a certain deity took interest in you!"

That was so stupid. A deity? Took interest in him? Why would anyone even do that? And yet, his curiosity piqued, he couldn't help but speak up the next time he saw you.

You stopped playing the harp and looked at him, a small smile gracing your lips. Your beauty sure was the one of a deity.

"Let's have a chat, shall we?"

KAZUHA

The flower shop was beautiful, everyone and you thought. But so was the florist working there; Kazuha was his name. You were an often guest there, always asking for flower bouquets to put in your room. You usually had a theme ready, be it a certain color, a certain feel or whatever you thought would fit the week. And Kazuha always gladly created the prettiest bouquets one could think so.

So one day you asked him to make a bouquet that he wanted to. With a charming smile he went to the backroom and some time later, came back with a bouquet even prettier than the previous ones. He gave it to you with a soft smile that made your heart skip a beat.

When you later checked the flowers and its meanings online, it turned out that every flower had some kind of a romantic meaning behind it...

And you couldn't help but wonder if it meant anything more.

XIAO

Alatus was the name he used online, but Xiao was the name you knew him with. He was a popular streamer, known for his... interesting attitude, but also for how private he was with his life. So it was a big shock when the news came that he was dating someone. Namely, you.

It was so shocking to his viewers to see someone in the background of his camera. You walked up to him and Xiao turned off his mic– or, well so he thought. The conversation between two lovers that was meant to be private, simply, blew up Twitter that day.

From that on, you became an often guest on his streams and everyone completely adored the way his eyes softened every time you walked in.

ALBEDO

Albedo had a habit you adored.

He would often take photos of you, be it when you were doing simply nothing, just sitting next to him, or maybe when you were busy watching a movie or reading. When your attention wasn't on him.

Or when you were smiling, pointing at something you noticed, wanting to capture your happiness.

You do look the prettiest when you were happy, he noticed. It was a view so precious to him, he wanted to capture it.

He never asked you to pose, no. He wanted to capture the real you, the one you allowed him to see; not the one you showed to others.

You knew about it, he wasn't especially sneaky with the photos anyway. but you had no complaints about it.

It somehow... made you feel special.

Special in a way only he could make you feel.

YOIMIYA

It was New Year's Eve when you noticed her, amidst the colorful lights of the fireworks. You didn't know her name or who she even was, seeing her for the first time in your life, in the middle of a park.

Even though it was dark and the only source of light were the fireworks, you swore you could see her beautiful smile. Full of happiness and warmth. You stared at her until your eyes met and, oh.

She really was beautiful.

Her eyes shining brighter than anything else could, brighter than the fireworks in the sky, she waved to you and gestured for you to come. She didn't want anyone to spend this time alone, after all.

You didn't know this stranger's name or anything about her, and yet your heart already made a verdict about her.

"My name is Yoimiya! And what about you?"

SHENHE

On ice, Shenhe looked like a princess. Movement graceful and fluid, as if skating was something natural to her. As if the ice was her second home. You sometimes felt like it was. She looked so pretty, twirling on the ice. There was no music, no spotlight on her, and she was just another skater among the others, but your eyes couldn't just leave her.

After a moment though, she skated to the railing, on which the other side of it you were standing.

She noticed your staring. You smiled.

"Just admiring you."

Her cheeks grew just a bit redder, already blushed from skating, and you couldn't help but smile just a bit wider. She looked at you for a moment before opening her mouth and speaking.

"Would you like to skate with me?"

AYAKA

She was your muse.

So elegant with her moves, everything carefully thought through, she was stealing your breath with her beauty. You lost count of the songs you wrote for her, the words singing a quiet love confession for Ayaka.

You wanted to write her a song she could dance to.

Carefully write the notes down on paper, gently press the piano keys, and with all your heart softly sing the lyrics, and so watch her move, watch her dance to the melodies of your love for her.

You told yourself that you would one day.

Just one day.

There was no need to rush, after all.

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet 5 sneak peek

tags: @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji

@prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower​

a/n: hey guys im so sorry i want to be super honest with you all and say that im so incredibly swamped w work that i haven’t had a chance to write anything for a bit and will likely be unable to for another week at least (the midterms at my school are p notorious and they go from now until the end of the month). that being said here’s just a tiny little snippet to say sorry for making you all wait and that i’m still here and that soon you will be rewarded for ur patience! also sorry if this seems a little confusing or disjointed. it omits quite a bit of lead up that you’ll get in the real part

The clammy coolness of Ellie’s hand faded into warmth as you two sat there without a word, letting the heavy silence speak for itself. The line on the horizon faded to black, leaving nothing but the moonlight to wash over you.

There were so many things you wanted to say to her. You wanted to apologize, to tell her you never meant to impose. You wanted her to know that you didn’t expect her to give up her whole life for you. But the weight of the quiet hanging between you two felt far too massive to shake off.

An arc of white streaked across the sky, its tail long and dazzling before it vanished.

“Shooting star!” you exclaimed, jutting your free hand up to the heavens and temporarily forgetting your speechlessness. You’d never seen one before, despite your many years of studying the meteor showers and examining the geological composition of meteorites.

“Do you not have those back home?”

“No,” you said. Now you felt a little embarrassed about how the first thing that you said to her was about the star, not about any of the other pressing issues. “Too much light pollution.”

“That sucks,” mused Ellie, her voice oddly casual. “That’ll be an adjustment for me.”

You froze. “What?”

“I said,” repeated Ellie, “That’ll be an adjustment for me. When I come with you.”

The jolt of shock that shot through you stole your breath, leaving you to just stare at her while her words sunk in.

Her gaze shifted from the sky to you. The ghost of a familiar smirk pulled at the corners of her lips, but something was missing.

“You’re joking.”

She shrugged. “Only if you want me to be.”

ps if i post part 5 and this scene isnt in there u never saw this ok 😭😭

[felsicveins]

Hey, i have two questions if thats okay!

1. What do you think about people that could possibly split fictives of your characters? I’ve not been doing well and act very similar to Julien when not masking, i have diagnosed osdd and can feel a split starting. It made me curious about your beliefs :))

2. Are we any closer to a snippet of who john ends up with at the end? Im like…90% sure it’s Julien but i could be mad projecting

I love your work so fucking much, it’s such a huge inspiration to me and actively comforts me. I hope you’re taking good care of yourself. You deserve love and peace. Thank you for such awesome work, truly.

♥️♥️♥️

Hello!!! I really don't know much at all about your first question, but I'm sorry to hear you're not doing well : ( I'll say that Julien is a complicated guy who struggles in several areas of his life

Also yes I think so! I really want to write a little something explaining some stuff that I haven't communicated through asks or comics or anything (I'll be working on that today : P)

[zyonsay]

141 as single Dads: Hcs!

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Warnings: Overdose of Dad, Ghost is a pissy lil bitch,

Now playing: Arkansas Daughter by Lady Lamb

AN: Somehow i got another little snippet of inspiration! :]

Captain John Price

He was READY to be a dad. You were definitely a planned child and he made absolutely sure that EVERYTHING was perfect before you'd be born. (Only for you to pop out much after the due date)

His partner had left him when you were about 4/5 and he was motivated to be the best dad ever, even when raising you alone is a bit more challenging. His time management skills were upped for sure.

He is kinda strict when it comes to going out or for example your first relationship, BUT he does understand that he needs to let loose from time to time.

He DEFINITELY taught you self defense as soon as he deemed you ready for it. He probably also snuck you into a shooting range once or twice to teach you how to handle a firearm. Just in case.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

To be honest, you were not planned at all. He personally would've waited a few more years with starting a family. But just because you weren't planned doesn't mean that he doesn't love you. He is your number one supporter in ANY situation.

He understands the importance of his presence very well and wants to do a good job raising you. Being a single dad is hard, especially when he is quite young but he tries his very best.

Gaz is more on the chill side of things when it comes to your personal liberties. I mean he was a teenager not too long ago, so i think he can relate to you when you want to test your limits. BUT he is also a responsible man. He mostly let's you do whatever you want, but he is not blind to danger. He will most definitely lecture you when you cross the limits.

One of Gaz' main priorities is supporting you and your interests. You're into art? He will do anything to get you appropriate supplies! You like cars? Some of his friends work at race tracks, he'll secure you an apprenticeship for sure! You're interested in Biology? Kyle will help you save up for a scientific exchange to Brazil!

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny was NOT prepared for a child, but he loves you TO DEATH. He'll literally do ANYTHING for you. Soap will brag about you whenever he can, especially to his Buddy Ghost.

Random deep talks at 3 am with a cup of coffee (or a beaker of sirup, depends on your age) are a regular occurrence in your small family. "Hey, kid. Have ye ever thought about..."

Soap is overprotective asf and will be extra careful with who he lets you hang out with. This also goes for your first (or every) Relationship! Im sure he'll also ask his Buddies to keep an eye out for you.

Goof ass Dad jokes and we all know it.

I know for a fact that he has a video diary of your whole childhood to look back on when you're older. Your first coin from the tooth fairy, your favorite Christmas present, the first time you sat on a pony at the fair or that moment he introduced the tall and scary Ghost to you.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

He will make sure you'll have the most AMAZING childhood ever, not wanting anyone else to go trough whatever he did. He spoils you, but makes sure you don't turn out to be an entitled brat.

He is not a big talker, but he gives you gentle hugs or lets you hold his Pinky with your tiny little toddler hands. Im sure he also plays with you when you ask him to.

When you get a little bit older (Like your teen years) he starts talking more and also adresses important things like communicating your worries and feelings to him. He knows how important those few years are for your development. He will let you live your life, but he will also guide you when he deems it necessary.

Simon is definitely judgmental towards anyone new entering your life. He only wants THE BEST for his little sunshine. I think he'd be especially protective over you when it comes to romantic relationships, he knows how emotional hurt can affect a human.

[mediumgayitalian]

HELLO omg i love your solangelo royals AU, their flirtatious enemies to lovers chemistry in part 2 is so cute 😭 not sure if you’re planning to write more in the universe (i’m already so grateful for what you have out!!) but i just gotta say i am so curious about nico seeking asylum, and what the circumstances were when he showed up, and i desperately want to read more of EVERYTHING in this paragraph:

“Will was annoyed with him the first day they met. He was annoyed the second time, seething, really, dragging Nico back to the sterile surgical suite to fix his torn stitches. He was annoyed when Nico first shouted at him, bewilderment at this random physician treating him like he was another resident of the palace, not the only son of Hades. He was annoyed, notably, the one time Nico came to the infirmary after spraining his wrist in sword fighting and, in Will’s words, “breathed too loudly.”

i hit that ao3 subscribe button so fast 🫠

anyway, love your writing and all the snippets you post!!!! thank you!!

hi hi hi!! you have been reblogging my stuff!! i am very grateful for it as it makes me feel appreciated enough to keep posting!!

i am absolutely planning more in-universe 😎😎 i want the main fic to be long, slowburn, and will pov; i have lots of scenes rattling around in my brain but i'm still working on an actual plotline lol. if i figure out a way to start it i'm just gonna start and hope the plot finds me along the way lol

okay so the asylum thing. i have Lore and im so pumped u asked so here is my rambling:

my idea, and this whole spiel is pretty heavily inspired by this royal au series i'm obsessed with by @gatesofember (with a sprinkling of setting inspo from this fic by @percyinpanties), is that each olympian/major god is a House. so like House Zeus, House Apollo, House Hades, etc. i just thought it was way cooler than kingdom lol.

nico has been fighting nonstop w his father since bianca died. just. constantly. notoriously. they do not get along. they argue about EVERYTHING.

one day, Prince Nico of Hades shows up at House Apollo, ass o'clock in the morning, barely clinging to his horse, exhausted, and claims asylum.

uproar. basically. like thats DRAMA.

of course apollo loves drama and also cannot refuse asylum without good reason, so he graciously accepts. some fun details about that:

nico is now, before a prince, an Asylum Seeker. by status, he is not royalty outside of his own House if he steps away from the role, which he lowkey has done by seeking asylum from his own House. he has very little say in anything now.

apollo, however, has granted him shelter in the royal wing of the House, granting him a royal suite of apartments as if he was a visiting diplomat/royal/House Hades representative. this does not, technically, change his official status, but it does make abundantly clear that apollo still considers him of royal status. aside from that, he's still a prince, and no one wants to make an enemy of a prince (since he can still easily return to his throne, essentially? like there are no laws stopping him from doing so. this whole situation is just Odd and Weird and Really Good Gossip), they were all gonna treat him like prince anyway. he has the fancy clothes and still wears his circlet and often sits in on apollo's fancy meetings and shit (apollo likes his nerve).

will could not give any less of a shit.

he is the only person in the entire House and probably beyond who not only does not give a shit, and does not give a shit to nico's face.

this is insane behaviour.

will is the house physician, right. so in term of respect, he has a lot of it, but he has no authority outside his own infirmary, really. he gets a lot more respect than his status calls for because he's prodigiously good at healing. like. people tease that he can raise the dead. he can't, but. you know. apollo is the House of Drama, really, so no surprises there.

will kinda holes himself up in the infirmary?? there are a few reasons for that. one, apollo is a very artistically inclined House, and will is not very artistically inclined, so he started working in the infirmary as a kid and basically stayed there lol. the court physician before him was actually apollo's oldest daughter, hygieia, whom will adored to a million pieces and who doted on him lol. (she got him a little physician's tunic when he was seven and he literally wore it until it was threads). anyways. he feels useful in the infirmary, and its also where he does all his studies, so he mostly stays in that area of the castle. two, he doesnt get boundaries very well. he also thinks hierarchy is deeply, deeply stupid. for his own safety his friends are like hey. maybe dont interact with visiting royals and diplomats and shit. because someone is going to stab you one day. (and will is like 'well i'll just fix myself then' and they're like 'will for the love of the gods. please.') plus the east wing of the castle (where the infirmary is) is rly well lit and beautiful and leads right to the gardens and the library, so will likes it there :)

this would usually be a great mix, right? nico, who has been treated very much as a prince his entire life and has had people either walking on eggshells around him or scared of him, who has never had anyone but his father and maybe his sister defy him in his life, chilling in the centre part of the castle with the rest of the more royal members, and will, mr Authority Who? Don't Tell Me What To Do, chilling out in the east. no need to interact with each other.

except.

except.

nico is a dumbass who got hurt on his way to House Apollo. and did not tell anyone bc thats embarrassing. so he collapses right after asking asylum, and is carried to will's infirmary, who waits with his foot tapping until nico wakes back up and tears into him 😭😭 calling him the biggest dumbass to ever cross these lands and getting quite creative with it, really, absolutely running his mouth, and as soon as nico recovers from being bewildered (does not take long) he is like you??? cannot fucking talk to me like that???? i am the prince of ghosts???? fucker??? who do you think you are talking to??? and will is like i brought you back into this world, you fucker, i will send your ass right back out of it if you dont sit down and shut up and write down these recovery instructions. and nico is like ???? meanwhile the nurses in the infirmery who know will's stubborn ass are GIGGLING. like they think hes gonna die but at least its funny.

everyone lowkey expects nico to tattle to apollo and get will thrown out or something.

nico does not. which is weird, because, like, maybe he usually would?? but will makes him so mad he cant even think straight. the second hes released from the infirmary he stomps to his new quarters, seething. he shows up in the infirmary next day with the full intent to start an argument. instead, will tries to put him to WORK. and then gets irritable when nico refuses and kicks him out.

just absolutely insane behaviour. if anyone talked to nico like that in his House theyd be arrested, if not excecuted. hell, if will says this shit in front of apollo he might still get arrested, because what. but nico keeps going back and continues to get humbled by will basically every day.

and, ho ho, what happens?? does he maybe begin to care about will?? no. of course not. will is a pain in his ass.

insert part two here, blah blah blah, nico very obviously does care about will and its embarrassing

he realises right after this that he cares about will. although theres still a layer of denial over it bc will is his fucking nemesis, a pain in his ass, and also a Whole Ass Guy, so.

will begrudgingly allows nico to drag him out of the infirmary on occasion.

he has to admit, that when nico isnt being a diva, he is.

kind of.

charming.

a little.

if he had a knife to his throat, he would admit this.

maybe.

in terms of falling in love, they fall in love FAST. after that barrier of "you're so fucking annoying" "IM annoying?!?!?!" "yes glad you agree" crumbles, they both go TUMBLING off that cliff bro. will takes a cannon to every single one of the bitchy walls nico put up after his sister died, leaving him heart wrenchingly lonely. he treats nico like a person. and nico treats will like an equal, not someone lesser, in fact he treats will like hes not a prince, not a king, but a god. he reveres him. will has never felt this worthy of anythign in his life.

obviously, though.

its vague ambigious royalty times.

their relationship is forbidden and very, very secret.

nico, as a royal, wouldnt face many consequences, but will...

the issue is that will is the most frustrated by the secrecy. nico has always known that he would have to love in secret, he grew up in that truth. will has never lied about anything in his entire life. the whole royal hierarchy makes no sense in any way and pisses him the hell off. he doesnt like having to be cautious about the way he touches nicos shoulder.

4. wrote too many things in one block and got cut off 💀💀 turns out i DO have a plot omg. thank you for asking. GOD i love them so bad.

5. as for the paragraph you liked -- ME TOO I WAS SO PROUD OF IT. IM GLD YOU LIKED. im seeing now ive kinda mixed the first and second "will was annoyed with him" in my brainstorming but eh. ill iron it out later.

6. anyways!! thank you!! expect more for the royal au soon. not sure if im gonna do what i did on my other blog and start slowly updating & posting the long fic, or if ill add some more short ones as i write the long fic in its entirety before posting, but ill figure it out. i have lots to say about them and theres nothing more fun to me than writing secret relationship and rivals to lovers teehee

[thegreatyin]

26 27 30 36... Scoundrel and Scientist. Also gimme the cufflink saga already.

IM STILL PIECING THE SNIPPETS TOGETHER IM SORRY I KNOW IVE TAUNTED YALL WITH ALLUSIONS TO IT FOR AGES JDFHDHDJDK

26 - What would be their ideal romance? Did they find a perfect match already, is it still a work in progress, or have they experienced something out of their expectations?

The Scoundrel's ideal partner would probably be someone willing to put up with her... everything. Either because they don't care, or because they indulge her to her heart's content. Someone able to back up her wildest dreams (or even fulfill them) while still being there at the end of the day to kiss her head and tell her it's all going to turn out okay.

She thinks this someone is Wines. It is not Wines.

The Scientist's ideal partner... is a lot more broad, and also simultaneously a bit more narrow.

See, he's fine with just about anyone, theoretically. All he wants is someone he can live for, and work to protect. He doesn't even care if he gets the same in return. Ideally someone patient, and clever, and maybe a little bit terrifying- someone he can trust completely and utterly-

But he doesn't really care about any of that. He just wants someone he can get along with. Someone he can almost feel safe around. He doesn't care about anything else.

-

27 - What is their romance’s theme song?

The Hatsune Miku cover of Poison. And Butcher Vanity.

...oh, you meant general romance, not together. That's, admittedly trickier.

And by "trickier" I mean "I'm stumped". I have absolutely no idea. I've never thought about it before. Consider this an open invitation for y'all to come in and suggest romance songs, because I'm kind of at a loss rn

-

30 - What is their love language?

The Scoundrel gives gifts. A lot of gifts. If you've actually, sincerely, unironically, somehow, against every odd in the universe, thoroughly captivated them, you'd get absolutely smothered in more gifts than anyone could hope to count. Extravagant ones, too.

Like.

They're the kind of person who thinks a comically expensive romantic dinner at the most exclusive restaurant in the country is "modest". They're the kind of person who'd send you hourly updates on how their day is going because they think you genuinely unironically need to know this pressing information because you love them and they love you back. They're the kind of person who spends hours trying and failing to win a giant stuffed animal at a carnival because you said it looked cute and they want to impress and pamper you.

They're the kind of person who spends half of their fortune supplying Mr Wines' revels because they think they're getting such an insanely good grade in flirting and serving and being such a good sexy appealing lover for their stupid horrible drunken crush that won't even give them a second glance-

I mean. Uh. Ahem. Clears throat.

Gift-giving. They like gift-giving.

The Scientist on the other hand- he's pretty squarely split between acts of service and quality time. I don't compare him to a cat for nothing. He's either actively being "useful" to people, or he's sitting with them in silence for 2 hours straight while they do an unrelated task in the same general vicinity.

He considers the latter to be fantastic socializing.

-

36 - What would they gift to their partner or their best friends to show their affection?

See the Scoundrel's aforementioned answer about giant stuffed animals and supplying revels. But also flower bundles. And honey. And bundled flowers dipped in honey. They feel like the type to gift what they like because they're under the impression that their favorite things are universal favorite things.

As for the Scientist... he's admittedly not the best at sending gifts, but he certainly tries? His gifts are way more humble. Way more small. Like the results of an interesting experiment, or a cool puzzle he thought up, or a handmade scrapbook that's not exactly good insomuch as it is unbelievably sincere. Tiny nerdy trinkets that won't mean much to an onlooker, but end up being super soft and sentimental to those in the know.

Also, I could see him knitting a bunch of stuff. Little winter hats, scarves, gloves, the works. It's sweet. He's sweet.

[effervescentdragon]

a little snippet of a much bigger fic (hopefully, sometime) that wouldn't leave me alone since the lfc-ajax legends game, for @san-maranello and @sebsrainbowbicycle <3 also i feel like posting something so there.

“He is really good,” Jamie says, because he is old and he remembers playing against the Mancs in the legend game and he could barely keep his breath halfway through the first half. Torres just played full ninety minutes, as did Stevie, and no matter what, that in itself is admirable.

Stevie says nothing, just sips his beer. Jamie… doesn’t want to let it go.

“I mean, he’s what, almost forty, yeah? And he -”

“Just turned forty,” Stevie interjects. “Three days ago.” 

Jamie looks at him. Stevie taps his fingers on the beer glass. He doesn’t look like he wants to say anything. He looks like those words were torn out of him already. 

Jamie goes on. “Yeah, forty. And he played full ninety, innit? Amazing,” he finishes, and takes another sip of his beer. Stevie nods, his face flat. “Too bad he couldn’t keep that form up with the billion pound bottle jobs,” he says laughing. “For him, not for us, but whatever. His decision, his fault.”

He goes to take a sip and catches the shadows on Stevie’s face. There’s something in his eyes that Jamie almost recognizes from a long time ago, but it’s gone when Jamie puts down the glass. Stevie doesn’t look like he’s going to say anything and so Jamie continues. 

“They put him against us right after,” Jamie says. “I said this to Gary, that last time we played Chelsea, what, four, five years ago? Yeah, s’mthing like that,” he continues, “I told him, That was a mistake, not against us, not after everything, yeah?” Stevie isn’t looking at him, just staring into his glass. “My thoughts, that’s what fucked him over the most. That’s why he couldn’t get himself together after.”

Stevie taps the glass. “You talk about Gary loads, yeah.”

It’s not a question. Jamie still shrugs. “Yeah, guess so. We work together, ya know? Might’ve caught us on the telly sometimes, if you bothered to watch Premier League anymore,” he adds with a grin. 

Stevie gives a small smile. “Can’t be arsed to watch ya manhandle the Manc,” he says, and Jamie refuses to think any more about it.

“Back to the El Niño,” he grins, “not a niño anymore, right? He’s a huge fella now, looks like he ate himself, honest.”

Stevie laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, but he was always big, innit, always taller than us.”

“Anyones taller than youse,” Jamie says with a wicked grin. “‘Cept Gary, I reckon. He’s tiny.”

“‘Cept in his waistline,” Stevie laughs. “If anyone looks like he ate himself…”

Jamie frowns.

“Don’t go tellin’ him that, yeah? He’ll get mighty upset. ‘Sides, ‘s not even that bad, I just like taking the piss out of him for all those chocolates he eats, though they do make him less grumpy. Feels like that’s the only thing I can wind him up about.” He pauses. “And how shit United are, obviously.”

They exchange a look that very cleary says That FA Cup game was a fluke and we aren’t talking about it, and then Stevie chuckles. “Fine. I won’t make fun of your boyfriend, least not in his face.” He laughs. “Or waist.”

“Fuck ye,” Jamie says, but he knows Stevie means it. He isn’t the kind of guy to go for the below the belly shots, Stevie, proper and honourable lad he is. Those kinds of shots are more Jamie’s territory.

Speaking of…

“Could you even hug ‘im after the goal, with how broad he got since the last time we played?”

Stevie narrows his eyes. “Yeah, was fine. That was a nice goal, I’m glad he could score again. Would’ve liked to have scored one meself, but it wasn’t meant to be I guess.”

“Not for a lack of trying. He was passing you the ball something vicious.” Jamie chuckles. “I liked when you just laid there in front of the goal after you missed, felt very oh-seven. Some things never change.”

“Yeah, well. Some things do.”

Now, Jamie knows this is something he should let go. They haven’t talked about a lot of things for a very long time, and it’s been a very long time since it happened. They’re all in their forties now, doing different things and moving on with their lives. 

Except, are we? Jamie thinks. I’m with Gary, watching more football than I ever played, or so it feels. Stevie’s in Saudi, coaching, just like Xabi in Germany, and hopefully in England soon. Even Torres is coaching in Spain, Under 19s or sommat. Did we ever move on, really? Can we?

The thoughts are a mite depressing and too serious for a night out with his best mate who doesn’t come home nearly as often as Jamie would sometimes like him to. They throw off his rhythm in a way he doesn’t know what to do with. 

“Yeah, could’ve scored more for us if he weren’t a cunt and went to Chelsea,” he says nonsensically, a sentence he’s said a million times in the past, what, fifteen years? They’ve all said it thousands of times, in every tone imaginable, and he thinks nothing of it. 

Stevie usually thinks nothing of it, and usually agrees, or at least shrugs, unwilling to give any more of his thoughts on that disaster. 

Not tonight, apparently. 

“He was so good,” Stevie says, taking a huge gulp of his pint. “We were so good, fuck, it was the same today, yeah? One pass and I knew where he would be, and I knew where he’d expect me to be, ‘cept I can’t run that fast anymore and neither can he, not like we used to.” Jamie doesn’t like his tone, doesn’t like how it feels like it will stop being calm any second now. “I came in late, couldn’t get away before, and they pulled us into this shoot, barely had a moment to say hello to anyone and then we were already on the pitch.” He shakes his head. “And it didn’t matter. He still knew, and so did I, just like before.”

He should interrupt. He should. This isn’t… they don’t talk about this.

Stevie slams the glass on the table. “Yeah, well,” he says, rubbing his left eye with his ring finger. “He went, didn’t he? Fucked himself well over with that, yeah,” he says with a small snort. “Didn’t fuck us, but he fucked himself well and done when he left. Was never any good after us.”

Jamie thinks about whether he should say anything. Again, he thinks about how Stevie doesn’t come home often, sequestered away in Saudi and how good it is to have him home, if only for a while. He thinks about unsent messages and about how these days, he texted someone else instead of Stevie first. He thinks about Gary and about how his phone would light up sometimes and how Jamie would know it was their United of ‘92 group chat just by Gary’s smile. (Look what Scholesy sent me, Carra - Is it his feet, do you have to pay him, is this a foot fetish - Fuck you, no, it’s a meme and it’s really funny - I doubt it, but show it to me anyway Gary-lad) He thinks about Torres’ face every time Stevie was next to him, way back when in oh-six, oh-seven, and how he never looked away, his eyes always only on their Captain. He thinks about Xabi’s message, Take Stevie out tonight? He will need it. And drink something for all of us, James, and I might see you soon ;) and the Fuck you, don’t get me hopes up he sent in response. He thinks about how he never made an effort to ask for Torres’ number after that last charity match, and how he knows that Stevie still has it. (Called him, yeah, for the charity thing - Why? - Because he’s one of us - Is he? - He was. He is - I don’t think it works like that - You fucked off to the States - I didn’t want to - Yeah, Stevie, I know - It’s not the same - No, it ain’t - Yous can’t have him for your team - I don’t want him, the fuck would I do with him, he was always yours - I don’t think that works like that either.)

“Yeah,” he says, “you’re right there, Stevie.”

Stevie takes a moment, then sighs.

“Fuck you, Carra. But?”

“But what?” Jamie plays stupid, except, he learned how to play stupid when he was a kid standing right next to Stevie. 

Stevie, who rolls his eyes in the same way he always did when Jamie was a tad obnoxious.

“Exactly. But what, Jamie?” Stevie asks again, sharp and careful.

Jamie, curiously enough, thinks about Roy out of all people. About Roy saying They think they can come for one of mine, well, I think they should pick on someone their own size about Viera and Gary that once a lifetime ago when Jamie despised them all and he thinks about how Fernando was always big and strong but his eyes were always childish and wild when he looked at Stevie and he says, “But, Stevie… you told ’im to go.”

The breath Stevie sucks in is sharp. His voice, sharper. “Go get us ‘nother pint, Carra, yeah?” Captain’s voice, like a blast from the past.

Jamie knows not to disobey his captain when he uses that voice. He gets up and says, “Youse payin’,” and thinks he’ll never listen to that curiously cheerful-sounding voice in his head saying Jaaaaamie, you have to talk about your feelings man, or you’ll combust! 

Fuck Micah, and fuck Xabi, and fuck Stevie and Torres, and fuck all of this, he thinks, and orders them Lagavulin to go along with the pints. Stevie’s payin’ anyway. Jamie’s gonna take advantage of that.

What are best mates for, if not drowning sorrows in good whisky?