#also tried something different during the process of creating this one... hmm..

[sunkissedlouis]

@RollingStoneUK Awards. 23.11.23

[waytooinvested]

Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 30

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

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‘Here, taste this, tell me what it needs.’

Kara accepted the offered spoon and blew on it before taking the sauce onto her tongue with the considering look of a connoisseur.

‘Hmm… a tiny bit more oregano I think. And a couple of squares of that super intense dark chocolate you think I haven’t discovered yet.’

Lena chuckled, going to fetch the ingredients Kara had suggested.

‘That’ll teach me to think I can hide chocolate from you. I only bought it yesterday, you’re like a blood hound.’

‘What can I say, I take a healthy interest in my snack options. Your chocolate is pretty safe though – I maintain that candy really shouldn’t be bitter. Well, except when you’re adding it to a savoury recipe, then that 90% cocoa stuff is perfect.’

‘I’ll take your word for it.’

Lena knew that the idea of adding cocoa to savoury dishes was hardly a new one, but it still felt instinctively wrong to be dropping squares of chocolate into her marinara, the smell of it as it melted mingling with the tomato and herbs in a blend that was frankly confusing to her senses. It was not a choice she would have made on her own, but she had come to trust Kara’s instincts when it came to flavour.

After a few days of take out and easy freezer-to-oven dinners, Lena had insisted on cooking proper meals (because pot stickers and pizza alone were not nutritionally balanced enough to aid a speedy recovery, even if they did technically contain vegetables), and over time cooking together had become a welcome part of their evening routine. To begin with Kara just sat nearby while Lena cooked, reading aloud to her from whatever book Lena had on the go at the time, or else exchanging stories about what they had each been up to during the day; but as her pain diminished and she started to regain more use of her wrist, Kara had begun to take an interest in the cooking process itself.

After the pancake disaster Lena had (not unreasonably, she thought) felt some trepidation the first time Kara had offered to help make dinner, but they quickly discovered that, as long as Lena took over all charge of the process, they actually made an amazing team. Lena had always enjoyed cooking for herself when she could find the time (she found great satisfaction in taking unrelated parts and bringing them together to make something new and better, whether it was an image inducer or a mushroom and stilton tarte tatin), but it was Kara that was the real surprise. She made short work of anything that needed chopping, grating or mashing and acted as an enthusiastic sous chef for any dish Lena suggested they try, but she really came into her own when it came to flavour combinations, and was inevitably the one to suggest the exact missing ingredient to elevate whatever dish they were making from mere ordinary week night filler to something that could be served with pride at any dinner party.

As usual, once the chocolate was fully stirred in and the sauce had had a few more minutes to combine, Lena found that Kara’s recommendation had been spot on. Her additions added a depth and richness that had been missing before, and nicely balanced out the acidity of the tomatoes to create something that tasted truly phenomenal.

‘Okay, that’s amazing. How did you know that would work?’

Kara grinned and shrugged, half smug, half bashfully pleased with the compliment.

‘I guess there have to be some advantages to basically being a walking stomach. I’ve tried a lot of different flavours, and I pay attention to what makes things go well together.’

‘Well, I’m impressed. I grew up in a house with a professional chef on staff, and some of your dishes could rival his.’

‘Not without you they couldn’t. I get too distracted when I’m cooking, and either eat half the ingredients as I go or else mess up my timings and end up with a burned crust at the bottom of the pan.’

‘We’re the dream team.’

‘Yup!’

Lena couldn’t help thinking how many other things that applied to in their new shared experience beyond simple meal prep. Now they had settled in and Kara was able to do more for herself, living together was becoming comfortable in a way she had never imagined cohabiting with another person could be. Even with Jack, who she really had loved, sharing their space had felt like an ongoing negotiation to maintain a balance between her comfort and his, both of them having constantly to give ground in order to maintain domestic harmony.

It wasn’t like that with Kara. There was compromise of course, but it never felt like a fight. It felt more as though the two of them were a team, working together to solve whatever the problem was rather than just trying to get their own way. Like when Kara had started feeling homesick for her own apartment around about the two week mark, and they talked it through and then Lena brought over a whole load of her things to make the penthouse feel more like home. It could have been a disaster of clashing taste and excess clutter, but it wasn’t. They had spent a happy afternoon decorating together, Kara sitting on the couch with her injured leg propped up while Lena followed her suggestions for where to put things: a painting Kara had done here, some bright throw pillows there, a couple of cosy woven blankets draped over the back of the sofa where they could be grabbed and snuggled under while watching a movie.

What they ended up with was a blend of both their styles that shouldn’t have worked, but somehow did. Lena had always thought that she preferred her spaces to be clear and modern, as far removed from the dark, old money clutter of the Luthor Mansion as she could get, but she found now that she liked this so much better. It was cosy and friendly, and it reminded her of how safe and happy she had always felt in Kara’s apartment. Having her things here side by side with Lena’s own felt right, like this was their home, not just hers.

She didn’t like to dwell on just how much she loved that feeling, because if she did she would be forced to remember how fleeting it was. Kara was getting stronger every day, and was already well enough to have started working from home, though she was yet to return to the office. And her recovery was a good thing, of course. A wonderful thing. But Lena couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach when she remembered how soon the time would come when all this would be over, and she would have to go back to living alone in a place that would feel too big, too sterile, too unnaturally quiet without Kara and all her things to breath life and warmth into it.

And of course when Kara moved back to her own apartment Lena would have no more excuses to put off fulfilling her unspoken promise to track down Lex, and however that played out, it was bound to change things. Even with her best case scenario, where she successfully killed Lex before he could kill her and made it out with the cure, restoring Kara’s memories would bring an end to this cosy domestic bubble they had made for themselves. And if somehow they managed to work through all of their history and found they still loved each other on the other side of that, Kara would go back to juggling her work at Catco with saving the city while Lena returned to being a proper full time CEO. They would both have much less time for just hanging out together, learning to make their own pot stickers and practising Singstar duets, especially when they no longer lived under the same roof.

But, she reminded herself, they weren’t there yet.

Kara might be well enough to write articles from her nest on the couch and hobble to and from the bathroom with the assistance of crutches now, but her leg was going to be in plaster for a few more weeks, and she wasn’t done recovering yet.

She still needed Lena.

They still had time.

‘Are you okay love? You look a million miles away.’

Lena turned to meet Kara’s gently concerned look with a smile, letting her spiralling thoughts fade into the background to be replaced by the much more tangible presence of their evening plans.

‘I’m good. Just pondering what movie we should watch after we eat. I think I’m in the mood for something cheerful tonight.’

‘How about Singin’ in the rain?’

‘Again?’

‘Well, how could you not feel cheerful listening to those songs? But I’m open to other options. Actually I was looking for movie night ideas online yesterday and thought it might be nice to watch Imagine Me & You some time… would you be up for giving it a try? I think it’s mostly cheerful. There’s a happy ending for definite.’

Lena had never heard of ‘Imagine Me & You’, but mostly cheerful with a happy ending and something other than the musical they had watched four times since Kara moved in was okay with her.

‘Sure, sounds great.’

They ate their (excellent) meal and then Kara loaded the dishwasher while Lena brought the crockery over to her and wiped down the surfaces. They could have left it for the cleaners to take care of in the morning, but the shared chore felt easy, natural, a routine they had performed over and over and could gladly perform a thousand times more, if given the chance.

When the kitchen was back to rights they grabbed a bottle of wine and a tub of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey, and settled down on the couch. They were long past the point of sitting cautiously apart on the more-than-big-enough-not-to-touch sofa, and Kara’s shoulder was pressed up against Lena’s before she had even managed to work the lid free from the ice cream.

‘How many tubs do we still have left?’

‘About eight.’

‘And we’ve eaten…?’

‘… about eight.’

Kara laughed, bopping her head gently against Lena’s as she dug her spoon into the banana-nut-fudge that was tonight’s flavour of choice.

‘I can’t believe you bought sixteen flavours of ice cream just to cheer me up.’

‘Well, you were sad and in pain and I wanted to make you feel better – I’d have bought more, except I also needed room for all the frozen potstickers and oven-ready pastries.’

‘Ohhh those were so good. I felt like I’d just walked into a Parisian bakery on our croissant mornings.’

‘Now we’ve got into the swing of cooking we should try making some from scratch. I bet you could come up with some really interesting breakfast pastry flavour combinations’ Lena suggested.

‘Yes, lets do that on Saturday! First flavour possibility, banana, walnut and fudge. What do you think?’

Kara held out the ice cream tub to Lena, and she dug her spoon in to sample.

‘Hm… banana – not my usual go to, but I could be convinced as long as we used real ones, and could be paired with a custard base. Walnuts would add a nice crunch and flavour. Fudge… pretty good in the ice cream, but I’m not sure about the pastry.’

‘You’re right, semi-sweet chocolate would probably be better for balance. I like the ice cream though, solid six out of ten. Remind me what it’s up against?’

‘New York Super Fudge Chunk.’

Kara winced and patted the tub in her hand sympathetically.

‘Oof. Poor thing never stood a chance.’

‘Agreed. I’ll update the spreadsheet.’

Given the sheer quantity of ice cream flavours they had had to choose from and the need to find novel ways to fill their time during the first couple of weeks, Kara had started what she called the “ice cream play offs” in a bid to find the ultimate ice cream flavour. And Lena, being ever the scientist, had been unable to resist the temptation to record their results properly, which had led to the creation of their unofficial official Ben and Jerry’s world rankings spreadsheet, which they updated meticulously each time they picked a new pint to sample. It brought together Kara’s enthusiasm for food and Lena’s inherent nerdiness in a glorious shared investment in their unserious contest, and cumulatively they had spent at least a couple of hours arguing companionably over whether Cherry Garcia or Chocolate fudge brownie should make it to the next round, or if Netflix and Chill’d should gain or lose points for being called that.

Now the serious matter of ice cream ranking had been decided they at last pressed play on the movie and settled down to enjoy the story, each occasionally dipping their spoon for another bite as they watched.

It started with a bride getting ready for her wedding day, and Lena mentally prepared herself for a couple of hours of cheesy rom com.

There was a moment pretty early on where Rachel (the bride) made eye contact with the florist as she walked down the aisle that made Lena raise an eyebrow, but it wasn’t until the way they looked at each other during the first visit to Luce’s shop that she was certain beyond doubt of what sort of movie Kara had picked for them to watch.

Oh.

Lena had imagined watching a queer love story together many times before – had even considered suggesting one in their previous life, as another hint to the intentions that Kara never seemed to pick up on, but she had never actually done it. Now Kara was the one making the move, and fuck, it was as if she was taking a sledgehammer to the foundations of Lena’s good intentions to maintain this last bit of distance between them.

They took another blow when, during a tension-loaded scene in a darkened classroom while Rachel fantasised about reaching out to touch Luce, Kara pulled her legs up to stretch out on the couch, moving her head from Lena’s shoulder to lie in her lap with a contented, kittenish sigh.

She did her best to keep her hands to herself, but by the time Luce was wrapping her arms around Rachel to teach her how to project at a soccer game she found she was, without quite knowing how it happened, idly playing with Kara’s hair. As soon as she realised what she was doing she froze, and made to move her arm back to the safe distance of the back of the couch, but Kara made a little grumbling noise of protest.

‘Don’t stop. I love having my hair played with, it makes me feel all floppy and relaxed, like a cat being petted.’

So Lena went back to running her fingers through the soft golden waves, her nails scratching lightly over Kara’s scalp in a way that made her give a little shiver of pleasure.

‘Mmm, it’s so nice, I could fall asleep.’

‘You probably shouldn’t, you’ll have a terrible crick in your neck if you sleep like this... Maybe we should call it a night and go to bed?’

‘Noo, I want to see the end of the movie. And I don’t want to stop hanging out yet. I don’t mind a cricked neck.’

Lena knew she absolutely shouldn’t say what she was about to say, but Luce was telling Rachel that the lily means ‘I dare you to love me’, and Kara was soft and relaxed against her knees, and right at that moment she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything else.

‘I have a TV in my room. We could finish watching in there if you like, then it wouldn’t matter if you fall asleep before the end.’

Kara looked up at her, and her expression said she was aware of how much more could be read into that offer than mere practicality, but she didn’t say so. She smiled and nodded against Lena’s thigh.

‘Mmkay. I’ll change and brush my teeth now then, just in case.’

‘Good idea. Just in case.’

Lena changed too, opting without quite knowing why to put on the marshmallow pajamas she had just ‘happened’ to pick up from Kara’s apartment when she’d gone round to collect her things. They weren’t hers to put on, technically, but she didn’t think Kara would mind, and though she still didn’t feel much like her usual put together self in them, she felt like Kara’s Lena, and that was all she wanted to be right now.

Kara gave her the softest smile when she saw what Lena was wearing.

‘Aw, my marshmallow Lena is back. You look so cute in those, I think I’m going to have to officially give them to you.’

‘Don’t. I like that they’re yours.’

Lena felt herself blushing at the confession, and looked away quickly before it could turn into anything more.

‘Lets finish watching the movie before we really do get too sleepy.’

Once Kara was settled in beside her Lena pressed play, but she couldn’t focus on what was happening on the screen. All she was aware of was Kara in the bed beside her, no longer actually touching her but somehow feeling even more intimately near than when her head had been resting in Lena’s lap on the couch.

This was a terrible idea. It was a terrible idea...

She slid further down against the mound of pillows at her back, and, hidden beneath the covers where she couldn’t see and could therefore pretend it didn’t count, she laced her fingers through Kara’s.

Kara squeezed her hand in return, and the movie played on.

They did not let go.

[archetypal-archivist]

Grian- Boots for the Rain Gone Cold

Kind of a story idea for Ex-Watcher Grian, 3500+ words. This is what happens when you listen to the song Welly Boots on repeat for a couple hours. The premise is that Grian and the Hermits aren’t quite as nice as they seem, and when Grian has to flee Hermitcraft to keep his friends safe from the Watchers, his friends do some malicious compliance to take care of him while he is away.

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A story in which the hermits take care of their own, even beyond borders they should not be able to cross.

Take a standard story about Watcher Grian. See him come to Hermitcraft, lost and alone and afraid. He has been through Evo, killed a dragon whilst alone and afraid, was taken against his will, watched his friends Pearlescent Moon and Taurtis die. He knows how to take care of himself, but nothing more than that.

Hermitcraft changes that, for him. Standing outside a portal that is unlike any he had ever seen, even during his time as a watcher, seeing a team of 20+ walk out is terrifying. But they had seen him, looked at each other, then rushed forward to claim him as their own. In the beginning he is left alone until he tentatively reaches out, saving Scar's stuff after he has died. An action unlike him, but he had appreciated their kindness in letting him stay, so he does his best to repay that.

Tit for tat is something he understands from the Watchers, even if this is a kinder variant.

Grian watches as people start to reach out to him, watching him with admiring eyes as he builds his first shops, offering items he's never needed or touched before now. (Conduits are so cool and he'll deny the shiver of excitement that crept up his spine when Xisuma first handed him one to his dying breath.) He watches as they smile and laugh at his antics, rather than come at him and his with sword and shield for his pranks.

He watches. He is good at that. He is significantly less good at returning their kindness, a trouble-maker to his core, intentionally or no. But he tries, and in the eyes of the Hermits, that is all that matters.

Iskall feeds him, sometimes, when he is sick and delirious, screaming at the shadows in the corners. They do not let him starve himself to death. (He learns to hide half stacks of golden carrots in their chests, just enough to replenish their supply, but not enough that they'd notice.)

Mumbo is patient with him when he comes crashing into his base like a wrecking ball, sometimes plowing into the taller hermit's redstone face first in the process. He just helps Grian up, smiling and laughing, helping him brush the red dust away. (Grian learns that Mumbo cannot sleep without noise, too used to the ticking of redstone clocks and firing pistons to sleep in quiet. He learns to fly in on late nights when Mumbo's base is still lit up and talk with his friend, chattering away until Mumbo can find it in himself to turn the lag machines off and fall asleep to the sound of Grian's voice.)

Xisuma watches the world with all the focus and patience that Grian once used when designing stars and bedrock towers. For Xisuma, Grian will watch the world too and ease its updates when he can- one less burden for his admin to carry, taken and handled with silent, secret grace.

Joe reads and reads and reads, spinning tales of his finds to all who stand still long enough for him to pin down for a bit. For Joe, Grian will bring out some of his old high school textbooks for him on the days when the man runs out of books to read.

Zedaph lives in a cave, warm and dry, but without color, the only life being the experiments rattling around in the background. For Zedaph, Grian will sneak in mushrooms and moss, encouraging them to grow in the shadows until the cavern blooms with them.

For the hermits, Grian is kind. For the hermits, Grian will learn.

Then one day it all comes crashing down, perhaps in the face of a bedrock tower springing from nowhere, perhaps in violent, screaming outburst of purple fire, perhaps in the face of a friend he once thought dead. The Watchers had tried their damnest to stamp out his heart and they nearly succeeded, but just as they could not stamp out his free will they also could not stamp out his humanity, and people- regardless of shape or size or color or race or species- are born to love and be loved.

Grian loves his Hermits. To protect them, he must leave. And so he does, quietly and in the dead of night, the faint echoes of screams ringing in his ears. If he has it his way, never again will he hear his hermit's pain, imagined or otherwise. It would be best to just forget.

Grian settles in a rainy little single player server that turns out to not be as single player as he would like. It seems instead to be an abandoned multiplayer server, lost dogs and empty houses abound in the distant corners, and every once in a while a new player stumbles in, running from something, settling in long enough to call the server home. Sometimes, these new players stay. Sometimes, whatever is chasing them catches up and they are forced to leave. Grian refuses to care for these fellow vagabonds, even as he watches from under the eaves of his perfectly constructed rustic house, rain dripping down and obscuring him from their wondering, pained eyes.

Grian has given up on having happy ending, and if the ending the narrative seems to want to give him is a tragedy, then he will seize it with both hands and rewrite it himself. What he does not take into account, however, is that the Hermits don't take kindly to being abandoned.

Grian was once a Watcher, and while watching and mimicking are perhaps some of his better skills, he was still new to the server and as such there is much about his Hermits he never had a chance to discover. Their pasts in large part remained a mystery to him, as he had learned to mimic kindness too well from them to ever pry. (They would have told him, if he had asked. Love was another thing he had learned from them, and if he had been seen and not just watched, he perhaps would have noticed how strongly they cared for him too.)

But yes. Though Grian was perhaps the only one of their number on the run from literal gods, he was not the only one with a tragic back story.

Xisuma, who watched the Hermitcraft server with all the vigilance of a soldier who had watched his fellow troops and their enemies weaponize glitches against each other, to the mass extinction of both. Evil X, who ran from it all, only to end up in a place where nothing violent simply became nothing.

Joe, who read and read and read, devouring knowledge the way he once devoured worlds, eyes flickering white on the nights when hunger panged in his stomach worse than usual. Cleo, who also knew the pain of consumption, from both sides of teeth like knives.

Zedaph, who popped into existence one day, whole and unsullied, with a vast, empty void where his past ought to be, who forgot sometimes that people are supposed to have likes and dislikes and colors and an instinctual obedience towards the laws of gravity. Tango and Impulse, who watched their friend and each other with eagle eyes to keep their trio from slipping back into old, self-destructive habits. (Overwork, overclocking, over-stimulation. All were equally killer.)

Grian, who's first and best skill, even before his building, was causing mischief and creating fun. A welcome distraction from old pains.

They loved him, the Hermits. In whatever flavor they chose, they loved him. They knew his darkness, though perhaps not the exact nature of it, and they knew that he loved them back. And then he left them.

The Hermits were powerful with love and sorrow and determination. Grian thought he could leave them so quickly, uproot himself from their hearts like a ghost in the night? Ha.

As. If.

It begins like this- Grian wakes in his little spruce house in the middle of a mostly abandoned town. The rain is pouring outside as it nearly always is and the rushing of wind through the trees puts him in the mind of his old ship-in-a-bottle base, warm and safe from the wet outside. He wakes up, stretches, thinks of eating. Steps outside and-

a brand new pair of bright red rain boots, almost glowing in the grey mist of early morning. They are in his colors, Grian just knows they would fit him perfectly. A welcome sort of gift, perfect for a world drenched in rain. Perfect for him, gifted with thought, with care. His stomach curdles and he just knows he won't be eating breakfast today either. A curl of a finger and the boots go up in purple flames, the scent of burnt rubber joining the petrichor of the air. He goes back inside. Goes back to sleep. Tries not to dream.

The boots are back the next day, shining red and a little closer to the door to better keep them out of the rain. He burns those too.

The boots keep appearing. Always bright red, always perfectly sized to fit him- squeaky new rubber, perfect for keeping out the rain. In the face of that, red boots like clockwork, is it any wonder that Grian gets tired? His front porch stinks of burnt rubber and there are new planks wherever he had to remove the scorched oak. Perhaps it's the burning that causes a new pair to appear- if there are no boots, a new pair comes to replace them, so perhaps a different method of disposal is in order.

He throws the next pair into the river. A new pair comes back to him the next day, alongside the old ones, dripping with sea grass and mud. Hmm.

(Cleo has friends in the rivers and oceans. It's easy enough to call in a favor or three to get the boots returned.)

Creepers next. A loud hiss and an even louder boom has him flinching back, phantom burns dancing across his fingers, but the boots are naught but ash. Three pairs of boots next time, one of them a dark swirling grey rather than the traditional red, as if mocking their scorched past.

(Doc's work. He's had enough experience with accidentally blowing up his own tools to know how to make a blast protection charm strong enough to keep his clothes and armor safe in the case of an unfortunate accident. The grey starbursts left over the material are just a neat bonus.)

Lava. Concentrated spider venom. Flattened by pistons. Dropped into the void. Left under a lightning rod. Thrown up into a tree. Fed to a guardian.

Each and every time, the boots come back, usually with some change in pattern, color, or marking that signals just what they have been through. All in perfectly usual condition, even the pair he cut in half with an axe.

(Stress had a field day piecing that pair back together, using molten honey and mending enchants to stick the halves together again. She always had loved a challenge.)

Eventually, Grian's front porch is covered in boots in all manner of designs, and fed up with the mess, he sets the whole mess on fire again with his signature purple flame, the only thing sure to reduce the number of boots permanently. He sets his house on fire in the process. Hmmmm.

There's an influx of new people into Grian's world all of a sudden. A pair of twins jump in, bloody, battered, and exhausted, and not a week later a roughed-up blond boy joins, snappish and hurting. All three lack shoes.

Now, Grian very firmly does not want to interact with any of them. He had found true friends among the Hermits and if he can't interact with them, then he certainly doesn't want to interact with a trio of traumatized children- however, he does have a pair of boots to give and dropping them on the children's doorstep requires no interaction at all. The female twin puts them on, marveling at how big the red boots are on her while the other kids stand watch suspiciously. Grian watches this from his front porch, hidden by the mist but eyes glinting purple in the gloom so he can see comfortably. The male twin seems to spot this, shouting and pointing, and Grian goes back inside to avoid the mess.

The next morning, the boots on his doorstep are rainbow-striped and several sizes smaller, perfect for a child's feet. Grian stares down at them, something hurting and tremulous in his heart, but his face remains blank. These boots are placed on the trio's doorstep as well. The male twin wears these, and the last child ends up with a pair of blue and black spotted ones.

(False had had fun with the patterns, feeling a little bit of relief that she could hunt down some rubber in a pattern other than plain red.)

Rumor spreads of a purple-eyed monster in the woods that gave people boots to keep them safe from the rain, although Grian very carefully avoids such stories. The children begin leaving trinkets for their monster in hopes to repay him, and Grian ignores these too until one day, the children somehow manage to get an old red dog collar to give him. Upon spotting this, Grian's heart gives a squeeze as it reminds him of Rendog, and he pockets it to put on his rather empty bookshelf. Other things also get picked up, all things that remind him of the friends he had to leave behind.

An allium, pressed into a book of galactic picked up from a stronghold. A jar of electric blue ink dried into a gelatinous cake. A tiny knight figurine, scuffed and missing an arm. A handful of spicy red jellybeans. Eventually, as time passes on and on and the rain bears down harder on Grian's tiny world, a trio of heartfelt, thankful cards appear on his kitchen table, all three drawn in crayon and filled with cheerful scribbles.

It rains harder, and the world shrinks down to just Grian and the three children who call out into the gloom every morning, grateful for the boots and the glimpses of purple eyes and feathered wings in the dark that tell them that they are not alone. The boots stop coming.

In their place, new things appear.

A toaster. Firewood. New sweaters and combs and soap. Little things designed to make life easier, many of them children-sized or painted in rainbow stripes or blue polka dots or a shade of red just off from Grian's favored color. These too go to the children, and the number of gifts Grian receives increases, many of them built from the material that he gives the trio of children.

(If the Hermits cannot gift things to Grian directly, then they will gift them to people who will transform them into something their wayward friend would accept. They do so with equal parts love and spite, angry to have been rebuffed but unwilling to let Grian feel himself forgotten. The trio of kids end up with a rather odd assortment of things. Tango, for example, is fond of the easy-bake oven he sent them that always burnt the food it made. Grian got nothing but his favorite chocolate chip cookies for a week, all of them scorched.)

In time, Grian does his best to drive the children off, building traps and leaving weapons on their doorstep to scare them. The stories of the monster in the woods increase in number and many more children join the server, encouraged by tales of purple-eyed, winged beast that taught its charges to be wary and gave them tools to defend themselves. Grian's cabin remains hidden in the mist, but many more wooden structures join it in the forest.

New boots appear on his doorstep. They aren't made to fit him.

(His heart aches, but his eyes remain dry. Morning dew condenses on Grian's cheeks.)

It comes to a head like this- no world, no matter how small or safe, is fully protected from the Watchers' gaze, and in the end, they find him. Only now, there are people here that cannot leave, that Grian cannot leave behind.

The children scream for their monster to save them. He rises from the mist, eyes heavy and wings heavier, dragging upon the ground and leaving trails in the brick red mud. They think they are saved. They are wrong.

Chains shoot out from the mist, forcing Grian to his knees as a huge female Watcher, Astrid, stares down at him, mouth turned down into a tiny frown and the rest of her figure still as stone even as she floats in the air, white robes fading into the surrounding fog. The purple emblem on her mask glows like a brand. Grian watches her with purple eyes glowing dim and dull, resigned to his fate but unwilling to flee if it means the deaths of those who do not deserve to serve his sentence in his stead.

He thinks, quietly, that he will die here. He wonders if this- any of this- is worth it. He thinks, yes. Yes it is.

He is wrong.

A figure coalesces before him, clad in yellow armor and arms crossed, the very picture of annoyed defiance. It tilts its head back, hard light construct featureless but practically radiating scorn, and from the mists a voice echoes.

"You are going to leave him alone. He's not for you." Astrid hisses behind her mask, galactic crackling and vile from between her lips, and the sound of wingbeats thrums like a heartbeat through the clearing, bass-heavy and loud in Grian's ears. He winces, closing his eyes as more chains shoot out from the ground to attach to Xisuma's- for what else could it be but his admin projected across time and space (that stupid, crazy, wonderful man)- construct. They coil around it, doing their level best to drag it to the ground, but the figure remains still and hovering before Grian, entirely unmoved.

"No. You will leave him alone." Xisuma's voice again, commanding and stern even from a figure that looks more like a glowing yellow armor stand. "I'll ask that you don't test me, it took a while to put this projection together and it will not dissipate until it fulfills its intended purpose." Astrid merely hisses again, this time with an underlay of static beneath it, and Grian's wings are suddenly pulled back tight and away from his shoulders- all three pairs of them, not merely those he prefers to wear.

The sound of flesh and feathers ripping through one plane and into the next has Grian feeling sick. Wrong, his mind repeats on loop, screaming. Wrong wrong wrong. Xisuma's figure freezes at his pained squeak before unfolding its arms and going carefully still. It tilts its head to the side, considering and cold.

"Is that your game? You do realize that that is death sentence, right? We would never let you survive it." Astrid nods. The chains rise up again, clinking softly as they loop once, twice, three times around Grian's outermost pair of wings, the ones most used to the physical plane and with the most nerve endings besides. The damp air is cold and aching in his lungs.

A rip. A scream. And then everything shrinks down to a flicker of brilliant yellow light, the shrilling of broken violins, and the long, drawn-out death wail of a Watcher unused to pain. A computer crash in slow motion complete with a harsh base note as Astrid's wings fall to join Grian's in the mud.

The world expands again, overwhelming. Agony. Silence.

Chains clink to the floor, broken, as Xisuma's hard light construct comes forward to stand before the Hermits' erstwhile server mate, slumped over in a pool of blood but conscious, something in his purple eyes bent, if not a little broken.

A voice, hoarse, achingly loud in the quiet of the glade. "You didn't stop her."

"No."

"...Is this my punishment then?" A moment of quiet and then the figure stoops down to gather Grian into its arms, its featureless gaze doing little to ease his fear.

Then, gently, ".....No."

Grian slumps, the last bit of tension seeping from his limbs as the pain in his back begins to register, sapping at his will and leeching into his voice.

"I'm sorry, you know. I- I'm sorry. I didn't want to go. It just- it hurts. Hels it hurts, so much. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"I know. I know." Xisuma's figure stands up, hoisting Grian a little higher up against its chest so that hiss remaining wings don't drag on the ground quite as much, then turning to face the cowering children. Eventually, a little girl in bright red rain boots stands up to meet its gaze.

She blinks back tears, scrubbing at her face to hide them, but her expression is brave. "Where are you taking him?"

The figure clutches the children's monster close, looking just as fierce as any dragon in a fairytale. "Home. Will you stop me?"

The girl pauses, considering. "No. Don't think I could, really."

"Will you try?"

"To keep going? Yeah, of fucking course, sure as my name is Clementine. To stop you? Not bloody likely, I like my head right where it is." Xisuma's figure nods, satisfied, and with a blink, it and their monster are gone.

Notes:

[sunflowerheartsandstarryskies]

The Devil and the Mermaid - Chapter Six (Lucifer x Mermaid!Reader)

Author’s Note: The inspiration here came from a dream of mine, also one of my favorite shows “The Legend of the Blue Sea” has some heavy inspiration here as well. Thank you so much for the support of the series! I will also create a tag list for this story since I saw people interested in that. Again I love reading your guys’ comments and if you want to be part of a tag list for this series please let me know :)

Warnings: hospital scenes, heavy makeout session, yelling

Taglist: @th3gl1tt3rgam3roff1c1al, @magnet-girl​ , @roxytheimmortal​, @danielle143​

Prev Chapter

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You woke up to a blinding light reaching your eyes and you felt like you were swimming in the ocean for a brief moment with how dizzy you felt. You tilted your head to the side and felt a jolt in your body as you processed what happened to you. Someone shot you, and it was aimed at Lucifer but you managed to save him, that reminder is what calms you down.

*I saved him, that’s all that matters,* you thought. 

When you have settled back into the hospital bed, that’s when you finally take in the surroundings of where you are. You were in a hospital with a hospital gown on and a needle stuck in you, when you realized that it had started to itch and you reached to pull it out of you.

“Hey don’t mess with that, darling, wouldn’t want to hurt yourself even more,” said an achingly familiar voice.

You looked up and saw his beautiful face looking at you as he entered the room with a Styrofoam cup in his hands.

“Lucifer,” you breathed out. You relaxed much more into the bed now releasing the tension that you hadn’t realized had been as strung up as it was. You felt even better when you saw him with you again.

“Oh, love, why did you have to go and get yourself hurt?” he asks you.

“You shouldn’t have gone and provoked the main suspect,” you teased.

He got flustered for a second while dramatically putting his hand to his chest in a fake offended motion.

“I’m glad you are doing better… To be quite honest with you I was terrified of losing you. I've become quite attached to you, my little mermaid,” he confesses to you.

You felt your get watery and your face heated up at his confession. ‘Maybe he really does love me, but I’m scared, what if he found out I didn’t tell him the whole truth?’

You saw his face scrunch up in thought but when he saw you look at him inquisitively he gave you a small smile.

“Now my dear, what’s inside that head of yours hmm? Your thoughts are getting too loud that I can hear them,” he says.

You get flummoxed at that and you sputter out, “but that’s impossible you can’t hear my thoughts! Can you? Or was that just a human expression?” 

He just smiled at you and said, “You gave me quite a scare, love, the doctor told us that you are surprisingly healthy even with you just being shot. Which we haven’t even started to discuss, but anyway you are already fit to leave by tomorrow.” “Wait really? How long have I been asleep for?”

“A week”

“A week!?”

“Yeah and you had me worried about you the whole time.”

That made you smile slightly because you at least know now that he was thinking about you during your time in the hospital, but the thought of your fate about what might happen to you if he died still haunts your thoughts. 

When you looked up at Lucifer he had a concerned expression on his face.

“Is there something that’s been on your mind the whole time?” Lucifer asked.

You shook your head no and he just hummed in response. The rest of the visit consisted of him filling you in on what happened after you were shot, how the case was closed and how Chloe and Dan were worried about you and how Lucifer was basically stuck by your side during your whole recovery. 

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

The next day came and you were released by a bewildered doctor on your fast recovery and found Lucifer waiting for you at the lobby and you eagerly hugged him tightly as you thanked him for meeting you here and taking you home.

He laughed and replied, “Of course, (Y/N), now let’s go home”

The cheerful exchange had ended at the hospital as when you left the hospital and Lucifer was driving, your mind was drifting back and forth on how you could possibly tell him about what might happen to you if you stayed on land. You noticed Lucifer’s hands gripped tighter on the steering wheel, and you started to get more nervous as you got closer to LUX. 

*What’s happening?* you thought as you followed close behind Lucifer.

Lucifer had escorted you up to his penthouse at LUX and had pulled you towards the balcony of his place. You stood across from him with a worried expression on your face as you hugged yourself waiting for him to talk.

“When are you going to tell me?” Lucifer asked.

You looked at him in surprise as you dropped your arms to your sides and said, “I don’t know what you mean?”

“You’ve been hiding something from me for a while now, I just don't know what it is. What is going to happen to you if I don’t love you the way that you need me to? What would happen if something happened to me? You never explained that part to me. Was there a reason for that?”

You just kept staring at Lucifer thinking of a way to tell him about your fate, and you decided to say it in your thoughts because he couldn’t hear them.

*If anything happens to you, I can’t live on land anymore. My heart only beats for you, that’s how I got to be on land was my love for you, so without you, I will die, that is how the transformation works. My heart has limited time on land, and so if you leave me or this world I will die unless I can return to the ocean. My heart will harden, cool, and stop. Without you, that is how I will end up.*

“Wait, wait, love, what was that? You’ll die?” Lucifer asked.

Your eyes widened in surprise, he wasn’t supposed to hear any of that. “What?” you said.

“Repeat all that you said, your heart will harden and you’ll die?” he tells you.

All you could do was take a step forward and ask him, “You could hear my voice?”

“Tell me, (Y/N). You said your heart will stop. Why?” 

“When did you start hearing my voice?”

“Why are you going to die?” He yelled at you with tears in his eyes. 

“You! When did you start hearing my voice? Tell me!” You yelled back. 

“Since the beginning! So please just tell me, if anything happens to me, if I die, you’ll die?” 

“If you can really hear my true voice then you already know the answer to that, Lucifer. I’ll die if you die, so I can’t make any promise to you that I will live happily with you gone. I can’t. Since I got my legs I was also given a new heart, a heart that beats on land, a heart that beats for you,” you told him.

He let out a sharp laugh at that and he turned his back to you and ruffled his hair as he turned back to you as tears fell down his face. 

“So then why did you get shot by me? I would’ve been fine! I can't be hurt by mundane weapons! I told you already I wasn’t human!”

“I couldn’t take the chance, I love you! You know this already, but I’m in love with you! I love you, Lucifer, and so I couldn’t take the chance to see you get hurt,” you explained to him as you stepped closer to him.

His eyes got wild and you saw a flash of red in his usual dark brown eyes as he then lowered his voice as he said, “And what made you think I could?”

You got taken aback by that as you dropped your gaze from him and just whispered, “What?”

“Oh my dear, (Y/N), what made you think I was able to see you broken like that? I was so scared, I was petrified, I didn’t know what to do, I even prayed to Dad! For hell’s sake, I am in love with you, my darling (Y/N), I had begun to realize that a while ago but I was too scared to put what I was feeling into words, but when I saw you collapse and hurt to protect me, I realized that I had nothing else to lose to put what I felt into words.”

You felt tears pool up in your eyes but you didn’t want him to see you like that, so stared at the floor still as you asked, “Really? Do you mean what you said?”

He puts his hands on either side of your face as he gently lifts your face up to meet his gaze. 

“My love, my darling (Y/N), I love you, I love you (Y/N),” he says with a tearful smile.

You let out a nervous smile as you felt the tears stream down your face but Lucifer wiped them away with the pads of his thumbs. 

“Oh Lucifer, thank you, I love you too,” you say to him. 

“Can I kiss you now, my love?” he asks you. 

You nodded and you met in a sweet and loving kiss. You felt him everywhere on you as he closed the edistance and you felt so loved and safe in his arms. He moved his arms down to rest at your waist and your kiss became more intense as one of his hands came to caress and entangle his fingers in your hair scraping your scalp. With all these different sensations you let out a tiny moan escape your lips and you flushed in embarrassment with that. You parted from him and you tried to hide your embarrassment from him but he stopped you before you got too far. 

“Hey, hey, what’s going on? Where are you going?” Lucifer asked.

“I don’t know what that sound was,” you replied.

“Oh don’t worry love, that’s completely natural, now why don’t we go back to that kiss, hmm? Let me hear all those lovely, cute, sounds, too,” he answered.

He kissed you again, this time with a renewed sense of fervor and it almost winded you if your whole weight wasn’t being supported by him. His hands were all over you making you moan in his mouth again as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He tentatively bit your bottom lip making you gasp and letting him have his tongue enter your mouth, he was sucking and licking and making you moan like crazy. You had an inkling what this was doing to you, but you didn’t realize how intense he would be.

He then put his arms on your thighs, gripped them and lifted you in air, promptly carrying you back inside the apartment. You gasped at that which allowed him to thrust his tongue further into your mouth making you moan again and smile into the kiss. 

Lucifer threw you down on the bed making you bounce on it and he started to climb on top you which made you start to giggle and smile widely at him. In turn he just smiled lovingly at you as he patted your hair and then bumped your nose with his finger making your face scrunch up and going into another giggle fit. 

As you started to calm down, Lucifer was still on top of you with a goofy smile and a loving expression on his face. He leaned down and kissed you softly and kept repeating that making you feel like you were back in the ocean again, floating, free and protected.

 You are so in love with this Devil and you knew you would do anything you could in your powers to protect him. Hopefully that promise to yourself wouldn’t be met again for awhile.

[bookphobe]

PLUTO AS AN IMAGINED NETFLIX SERIES + (PARTS OF) TITLE CARD

tina can you please actually write instead of avoiding it by making graphics and daydreaming did anyone hear something?? no ?? ok good.. anyway... ive been seeing amazing netflix mockups of wips lately and decided to give it a try for pluto!

read below the cut for more info + taglist !

template i used for the netflix bits here. & if anyone's curious, the font i used for 'Pluto' is called NoMark

Here is pluto: the netflix series!!!!!!!!!! everyone close their eyes and imagine it... and pretend it's there and that it's good. okay. alright. i imagine the title card & credits bit to be more sophisticated- that's only a rough idea of how i imagined it hehe. writing scripts for shows & film is actually one of my writing dreams! visual media has been something i digest much easier than novels nowadays (just stating facts 😔 creating this blog is a part of my process of trying to get back into reading and Literature in general) and while things like shot composition and other aspects of filmmaking i'm less knowledgeable on, screenplays i find really interesting

Episode List

1. MORSE — Javi takes in a runaway. A young writer recounts his harrowing ordeal following his recent arrival to the town of Fell Island.

2. SWALLOW'S EDGE — Elsa adjusts to her new life, but her past keeps a tight grip. An experienced hiker finds themselves in a rocky situation.

3. WHAT'S IN A NAME — An odd presence visits the diner. A park ranger investigates a rumour surrounding the woods.

4. WONDERLAND — A chance discovery makes Javi question his decision. A determined mother shares her story and searches for her missing daughter.

5. FROM THE WOODS — Elsa tries to get closer to Nico, but her intentions are not what he thinks they are. Cosette puzzles over what she saw.

tv pluto is a bit different than book pluto in that book pluto is, in my head, much shorter than how i imagine tv pluto to be (about 2 seasons, 8-12 eps max?? 😗), and so there would def be more content added that focus on the interpersonal reationships in tv pluto. things like storylines etc would have to be shuffled around & adjusted as well because tv and word are different mediums after all. also pluto employs the framing device - there's an outer story, concerning the customers & employees, human and non-human (wink wonk), and then they spill their tales, the inner stories; the idea of exploring that concept on tv pluto, especially with the added advantage of visuals, is cool!! and ,,, a little bit ambitious tbh since the outer story is also complex-if not more-than the inner stories. that being said the tales told during the episodes are pretty short and won't take too much of the episode time so actually hmm there'll be enough room for everything i imagine. the show would have the same vibes as these images

(CURSED™️). lots of scenes would b framed as if you were just looking in, a bystander watching these people, or watching thru the pov of the town itself as it watches its organisms' every move. notable songs in this soundtrack (i will post a link to the spotify playlist soon 🤪🤪) include strange fruit by billie holliday, and you are my sunshine, sung by johnny cash (after seeing annabelle: creation that song has not ceased in reminding me of demons LMAO). i'm a big fan of innocuous enough songs being turned into songs being paired w things that r the complete opposite of its original vibe u kno it's so Unsettling

❤️ pluto taglist @carlyiswriting @berinswriting @nightmares-and-fireflies @aetherwrites @oasis-of-you @odysseywritings @haldimilks @chloeswords @isherwoodj @avi-burton-writing @themillionthdraft @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @writingbyjillian @pamsdrabbles @piyawrites @bijouxs @ravens-and-rivers @spencers-tomes

[womanwhoembracesfolly]

The Star Plasma Vessel:

When I first read Gojo’s past arc, Riko Amanai and the whole dynamic created between all of the characters and how fast a strong bond can grow, really interested me.

⚠️Spoiler warning ofc ⚠️

But... I was so confused over the Star Plasma Vessel. I was so confused and thought I missed something because I didn’t even know who Master Tengen was. And the site I was reading the manga didn’t have chapter 72, but after re reading it... the Star Plasma Vessel and Master Tengen are... still suspicious as hell.

So Let’s talk about it!

Who is Master Tengen?

In the Nara Period (710-794) Tengen spread Japanese Buddhism and ‘preached what would become the foundation for Jujutsu sorcerers(JJK.wiki)’. They were first mentioned in chapter 53 by fake Geto. 

At this point, the only information about Master Tengen was that of their jujutsu. Jogo asks Fake Geto who’s stronger; Tengen or Gojo? Fake Geto simply states that “it’s immortality not anti-aging” and that Master Tengen doesn’t interfere unless it involves the barrier. He also makes this comparison with a tree? However, I’m not sure if the tree metaphor is comparing Tengen and Gojo or describing/comparing Tengen’s technique. 

During Gojo’s Past Arc, we find out more about the specifics of their jujutsu and how powerful and important they are. Tengen’s jujutsu is immortality but it doesn’t stop the aging process. The cursed technique tries to switch bodies roughly every 500 years. If Tengen doesn’t get a vessel, then they will ‘evolve’ or ascend to a higher state where they have no will. If in this higher state, they could become a threat to humanity. If they do get a vessel, then they rewrite the body’s genetic information. 

On top of all that, Master Tengen’s ability strengthens the barriers that protect the jujutsu world and keep the amount of curses limited to Japan. The Jujutsu world wouldn’t be working the way it has for so long if not for these barriers. It isn’t specified whatsoever what Tengen would do that would make them a threat to humanity, but my guess is that it would have something to do with allowing curses to run free and unrestricted. 

In the reccent chapters, Fake!Geto used a remote activation technique that Yuki orginially mistakes as an attack on the barrier. He’s disrupting the balance that’s for sure, but I believe that  he could have broken the barrier. He had the option and probably the power, but he didn’t. This implies that Tengen is a force that even our antagonists fear or don’t wish to get involve. They said that they were  stabilized even after Riko Amanai died, but... considering Ep. 18 where Principal Yaga goes ‘I’m going to see Tengen” after the Curses break onto school grounds implies that maybe he is weaker. Gojo even talks about how in the end, Tengen’s barrier hides rather than protects and that it’s weak once infiltrated, which raises a lot of questions. And maybe Tengen plays a part in this whole scheme because of  the talk of how much chaos the world would be thrown into had the barrier been broken by Yuki and Fake!Geto’s questionable response. 

Who is Riko Amanai?

Riko Amanai was the Star Plasma Vessel in 2006. It is implied that she was pretty wealthy, and when she was younger, her parent’s died in a car crash, but she survived. Between the years of her parents’ death and her death, she was cared for by Misato Kuroi, a non combatant  jujutsu sorcerer who can fight curses, well educated in the curse world, but might not be able to use cursed energy/techniques. It is unknown with who Misato is affiliated with and if Amanai became aware of her status as the Star Plasma Vessel at an early age. 

 When first introduced, she is very willing and seemingly okay with the merger. When Gojo expresses his surprise over Amanai’s reaction to her attempted assassination attempt and the whole concept of the merger, she simply proclaims “Master Tengen is me and I am Master Tengen!”. She then goes on a rant about how the merger and death are different things and how after the Merger, her will and spirit will live on. However, this statement was contradicted earlier, when Yaga describes the Merger as an ‘eraser’. Later, Geto even talks about how after the Merger, Amanai will just be forced to be beneath the school and has to get rid of all mortal connections. It just happens to be that, she has no relations besides Kuroi... suspicious.... 

  Riko is spunky and fiesty. During her rant, Gojo and Geto comment on how she probably has no friends based on how she talks. She is clumsy, and honestly just... funny. I keep on hoping someone in the main timeline says something similar to the “Liar, you look a liar... and whats with those bangs” line  in reference to Fake!Geto. Getting back at hand, Riko is also brave. When Kuroi gets kidnapped, she insists on coming with Geto and Gojo despite having no fighting or curse capability. When nervous or in an emotional confrontation, she has a habit of scrunching up part of her skirt in her fists. 

 Despite putting up an image of content with the Merger, Riko is a normal teenage girl. Moments before her death, Riko’s inner monologue focuses on how she was always told she was ‘special’ and ‘different’, and how despite everything that happened, she always survived. Now, being told that you are special and different at a young age is something that affects people heavily. Weather  it is being told that you are a ‘gifted’ kid or that you are just ‘different’ can lead to a lot of self separation from others. One might see themselves as better than others because of these skills or believe that someone else like them can’t exist and struggle when meeting someone similar or in a similar situation. Before her appearance in the story, it is implied that she had good relationships with her friends, classmates, and Kuroi, but didn’t really value them as much as she should due to this idea of being special or having a destiny. (Damn, a Gojo parallel maybe hmm)  This led her to be really lonely and she believed that she would be okay with the merger because she thought that the loneliness and sadness would disappear. In the last three days of her life, Riko got to spend time with her friends at schools  (the last she saw of them was them teasing her for her ‘hot cousin’ Gojo), spending time with Kuroi, and developing a strong bond with Gojo and Geto. She realizes that the sadness and loneliness could and would leave as long as she had strong bonds with others. 

“I want to be with everyone more! I want to go to more places, see more things with everyone... More!!” 

  After Riko comes to terms with what she really wants, she dies at the hands of Toji Fushiguro/Zenin. Her death sets an entire series of misfortunes and rifts between the Strongest Duo and she serves her part as... well the plot tool she  doubles as. 

A Choice:

 Before her death, Riko is given a choice. Geto gives her instructions on where to go for the merger, before saying “Or you can turn back and return home with Kuroi.”. He gives her a choice. A choice to go through with the merger and ensure stability despite no one truly knowing what is happening, or a choice to live a life of her choice. We find out that Yaga gave hints that there is something wrong with the Merger due to the way that he described  it as an ‘erasure’ and how he isn’t one to ‘beat around the bush’. 

 We find out that Gojo and Geto decided beforehand that if the Vessel wasn’t willing to go through with the merger, they wouldn’t do it and that they, the strongest duo, would fight Master Tengen. Gojo and Geto were the strongest and Geto says that no matter what she chooses, they will protect her future. 

 Riko decides to go home, wherever that may be, instead of the merger, but of course, dies. 

 As established before, this whole concept is suspicious. Yaga knew there was something wrong with this. Gojo and Geto both knew there was something wrong with this.

 In chapter 138, Yuki goes “it’s about time I confront Tengen.” This opens a box with even more questions. What does she mean by this? Why is it ‘about time’ and how casual is it for sorcerers to talk to Tengen? As mentioned before, Yaga is apparently in communication with Tengen when he needs to be. And Yuki is the one who told Geto that Tengen was stabilized after the failed merger and that the vessel was probably reborn...

Conclusion: 

 I honestly hope more than predict that we get to meet Riko Amanai reborn or the next SPV.  Tengen is a name that is getting thrown around recently so there is no way that he is just.. not going to be relevant in the coming chapters. 

  I know a lot of people have found comparisons to Buddhism and the Jujutsu world, and I am not that well educated in this area, I do know that rebirth plays a big role in it. Rebirth is viewed as a negative cycle one should want to escape from called “Samsara”. I personally headcanon/theorize that the Star Plasma Vessel and the soul of Riko Amanai, is one that gets reborn constantly and is stuck in a cycle where they experience a lonely and sad  life before getting a taste of a full and happy one right before the merger. In terms of the 500 year thing, the Star Plasma vessel would have first been born( created?) during sometime in the in between of the Heian Period (794-1184) and the Muromachi Period (1392-1573). The Heian Period is implied to be the Golden Age of Curses and when Sukuna was in full power despite being known in history as a peaceful time for Japan, so I definitely believe that there is some connection if my math is correct (which it probably isn’t. I hate math). 

Right now in the story, vessels... are really important. According to Fake Geto, he released what is like a thousand Itadori Yujis, so I think that bringing back the star Plasma vessel would fit really well. However, they would roughly be around 12 years of age in 2018, meaning that they might not even be able to do the merger because I think the vessel has to be sixteen and older and have a full moon.

(Edit: added 4/1/21: Also, it might not be Riko reborn, but just another Star Plasma Vessel. Like Yuki says that either they had another vessel at hand, or another one was already born. So like... the new SPV might be the age of our main characters or possibly even one of the characters we already know!)

I also think it will be really interesting to see how it would play off with the fact that Gojo/Geto are no longer involved in the story. Gojo is sealed and the real Geto is dead. When thinking about how the SPV would be in the story, I imagined a picture of a younger girl in a uniform and with a braid holding the sealed Gojo and staring up at the fake Geto. I’m not over what happened to Riko Amanai if you haven’t noticed and I feel like she deserves to have this other chance. I also think it’ll set up the eventual meeting or confrontaion with Master Tengen which I’m personally dying to see.

So what do you think? I don’t really have any solid predictions other than that the SPV reborn will make an appearance, but what about you? Do you guys think Tengen will play a big part? Do you think Tengen may end up becoming a big threat or a good ally? Do you guys want to see Itadori and the SPV interact? Or am I just over analyzing this?

Thanks for reading!

[got-svt]

all the boys you’ve loved and lost during the course of our lives, we meet thousands of people, creating either a seconds long moment or memories that last a lifetime. some of them you’ll have the opportunity to know beyond their names and faces, some you may even grow to love. unfortunately, not all of them have the luxury of staying in your life forever. 

❥• one: the childhood best friend 

he’s the one you grew up next to, who lived in the house directly in front of yours. the one you’ll forever associate with popsicles on the sidewalk, bike rides at dawn, seesaws and swings at sunset. and you wish you could trap yourself within the memories, to never escape the hold of childhood innocence. but, just like everyone else, both of you eventually had to grow up. 

pairing: lee chan x reader genre: fluff, angst, childhood friends to ??? word count: 2062

→  it honestly seemed like you and him were meant to be friends: both your parents attended the same university, worked at buildings a few streets away from the other’s, and eventually ended up living in the same neighbourhood — buying houses directly in front of each other. you met chan at the ripe old age of eight months, when they decided that both of you were old enough for a little play date. sure, you mostly communicated in unintelligible babbles and spent the afternoon throwing plastic toys and stuffed animals at the other — you having to go home a crying mess — but your parents remained optimistic that you would eventually become good friends.

→  and they were right — of course they were. this had been their plan from the very beginning. you began to grow closer when both of you were old enough to understand that throwing toys at other kids was wrong and your communication skills evolved from babbles to simple sentences. alternating afternoons were spent at the other’s place, playing house, cooking fake food, tag in the backyard, blowing bubbles in the garden. looking back at it now, friendships were so much simpler. you never had to worry if they truly liked you or wanted to spend time with you, as long as you could laugh and play around, all was well.  

→  you and chan learned how to ride a bike together. your parents were there to guide you both along, but it was mostly both of you teaching yourselves. was it a good idea to have two eight year olds learning by themselves? probably not, but it introduced you to the basics of independence and meant that you spent a lot of your time with chan. he was the first one to have the training wheels removed, much to your dismay and his elation. 

“hah, yn, you’re still a baby who needs training wheels.” chan teased, pointing a finger at you with a smile.  

you could only huff and pout, gripping onto the handles of your bike until your knuckles turned white. that night, you asked your parents to remove the training wheels of your bike, determined to prove to chan that you were, in fact, not a baby. 

the following afternoon had him eating his words, not because you were blazing down the street, but because you fell off your bike. chan almost fainted at the scrape that marked your arm. it was small and had little to no bleeding, but that didn’t stop him from rushing to his mother with tears brimming his eyes, demanding that you be treated. even though you repeatedly told him you were fine, chan spent the next few days following you around.  

→  the following year had you asking your parents what it meant to love someone. 

your parents’ eyes widen at your inquiry. “what do you mean yn?” your father asked, tilting his head to the side at your inquiry. 

“you always tell me you love me, and i tell you i love you back. but how do you know you love someone?” you clarified with a pout, looking down at your feet as if you were ashamed of your question. 

your parents shared a fond smile at the genuineness of your question, though it faltered slightly at the thought of you only saying it back because you were taught to — not out of sincerity. regardless, they tried their best to explain. “loving someone means you care for them, not wanting them to be hurt or sick. you want to be around them, you think about them even when you don’t mean to. you’re happy when you spend time with them. things like that.”  

you nod, taking into account their words and how you’ve been feeling yourself. the next day, you sat on the curb with chan. the summer sun threatening to melt the popsicles both of you were intent on eating. it was rather quiet, nothing but the birds’ melodious singing and cars passing by. up until you blurted out, “i love you.”    

chan blinked back at you, it had been the first time someone outside his family had told him that. you panicked at his non-response, explaining quickly what your parents told you, “loving someone means you don’t want that person hurt and you’re happy when you spend time with them.” 

chan nodded, processing your words, “hmm. then i love you too.” 

→  saying i love you became a normal thing for you and chan. your parents found it adorable, the way it became a hello and a goodbye. with all the time you spent together, it was expected that both of you form some sort of attachment to the other.  

you sat on a swing in the playground five minutes away from your homes, chan stood behind you, gently pushing you forward every now and then. the sun was setting, turning a sky into a mixture of orange, yellow, and purple. “do you think we’ll be friends forever?” you ask, voice soft and tender as you felt his hands lightly on your back. 

“yes. we will.” chan answered without a moment’s hesitation, eyes still staring straight ahead into the horizon.  

“how do you know?” you asked, still unsure. you were to start middle school the next day. it was at a much bigger place than your elementary or kindergarten. at age eleven, both of you knew things were bound to change. you knew were going to meet more people, possibly be placed in different classes, join various clubs and organizations. 

chan moved to stand in front of you, the swing slowing down to a gentle halt. “because i promise we’ll stay friends.” 

you hold your pinky up towards him, a smile playing on your features, “promise?” 

he intertwined his pinky with yours, chuckling as he shook his head at your slight nervousness, “promise, yn.” 

“okay. love you.”

“i love you too.” 

→  but of course, promises aren’t always kept. even though both of you tried your hardest to do so. 

→  you and chan were inseparable throughout your kindergarten and elementary school days. despite meeting several other kids that were in the same age range, you still opted to be attached at the hip. eating lunch or snacks, playing, studying together. slowly, but surely, all of that changed when you entered middle school. 

→  it started with being placed in different classes, with different free periods. you had made friends with the students that sat around you, all of them bright and bubbly — eager to make new friends. you were slightly overwhelmed at the onslaught of new people, but you grew to like it, accepting their invitations to hang out after classes. chan had also found new friends of his own. kids he met when he signed up for the dance club, all of them just as passionate as he was. you were both happy for the other’s expansion of social circles, never failing to send a giant smile and an excited wave when you bumped into each other in the halls.   

→  chan walked with you to school in the morning and always met up with you for lunch, exchanging stories of his afternoons at dance classes and yours spent swimming at the town rec center with your newfound friends. you both still said your i love yous with a smile before you headed into your next classes, but as the months passed, they became more and more rushed, eventually more mumbled, to barely saying it at all. 

→  you would eventually join your middle school swim team, and chan never missed a single one of your games, just as you didn’t miss a single one of his recitals. always the loudest to cheer the other on, the first to congratulate and celebrate a victory, or pick up in a loss. but with the addition of new clubs in your schedules, it meant lesser and lesser time to spend with the other. hanging out together turned a daily activity into a weekly one. neither of you minded, you were happy and occupied, that didn’t mean you were no longer friends. right? so you pushed that concern to the back of your minds.  

→  high school rolled around more quickly than either of you could ever imagine. chan was now in the school dance team and you were in the varsity swimming team. back in middle school, you both managed to meet up at least once a week, now you were lucky to even spend a full day together once a month.  

you sat in chan’s room, watching him as he struggle to get past a level of a video game another friend of his had lent him. truth be told, you couldn’t recall exactly what that game was. was it a platformer, racing, fighting? you never really listened when he rambled on about. you were too wrapped up in your own thoughts, something had changed, you just couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was exactly. “hey chan.” 

“yeah, yn?” he didn’t take his eyes off the screen, “is something wrong?”

“no, um—” you were grateful that some of his attention was elsewhere, “we’re still friends, right?” 

chan paused his game so he could turn to look at you, “of course we are. why are you asking?” 

you wanted to believe him, so you nodded before shaking your head in slight embarrassment, “right. i’m sorry, i guess i’m just thinking about how we’d known each other for sixteen years now.” 

chan knew better that to think that was all there was to your question, but he couldn’t find it in himself to delve further or to ask more questions. instead, he gave you a small smile, his mind going back to that summer afternoon eating popsicles on the sidewalk. “i love you.” 

you offer him a weak smile back, your own memories taking you back to watching the sunset on the swings, “i love you too.” 

→  little did either of you know that would be the last time you would say those words to the other. as the months dragged on, you and chan only became busier, with academics, extracurriculars. communication became far and few in between, you didn’t mean it of course. you were tired from swimming laps, he was exhausted from practice. you had homework that you’d been putting off, his friends decided to surprise him. it just slipped both of your minds.   

“i’m free on saturday, how about you?” 

 “can’t, f/n is coming over. how about sunday?” 

“ i have a competition, you’ll cheer me on right?” 

“ i have a swim meet that day too…” 

“tuesday then?” 

“i have a huge test on wednesday. i have to study. ” 

conversations like these soon became the norm for you and chan, not that either of you wanted it to be. it just happened without either of you noticing. you both slowly stopped inviting the other to hang out after class, to watch a swim meet or a recital, thinking that the other might be too busy to even attend. in neither of you wanting to bother the other, you eventually drifted further and further away from the other. 

→  there was no dramatic falling out, no big fight that ended in tears, not even a single screaming match. things simply happened without either of you realizing what was going on. you still waved at each other in the halls, but he stopped walking with you to and from school. you still talked to each other when both of your families occasionally had dinner together, but it felt formal and impersonal — filled with more awkward silences than comfortable ones. both of you always felt the need to fill up the space, but it somehow only made it worse. you still said your goodbyes with a hug and a smile, but there was no longer an “i love you” that followed.  

❥•   but it was with chan you learned that growing up could also mean growing apart. and though both of you know you could’ve done better, you accept that it couldn’t be helped. besides, you’ll always have the memories of learning to ride a bike, playing tag in the backyard, swings at sunset, and that very first i love you. memories both you and chan will look back on with a wistful smile when you long for the days of your youth, and that was more than enough.

seventeen as all the boys you’ve loved and lost. next  ➤  yoon jeonghan, the academic rival 

[egcdeath]

a blip in the reader-verse

chapter 2: white picket fence

previous chapter

chapter summary: you learn a bit more about the situation at hand, and gain a sliver of hope for the future

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warnings: angst, but a temporary happy ending

word count: 1.9k

author’s note: hopefully the trajectory of this fic will make a little more sense after this chapter, and the next. all feedback and reblogs are appreciated & let me know if you’d like to be added to the story’s tag list!

A breeze blew by idly, shaking the flowers that surrounded you in the field just slightly. You seemed to be lost in your own head, relaxing on your back and basking in the serenity of watching the sunrise. The soft crunch of footsteps approaching alerted you of someone else’s presence, and you moved your gaze to follow the sound.

You were shocked at the vision of your lover, although he seemed to be a frequent subject of your thoughts and dreams these days. Still, you gasped out, “Steve?”

“Y/N,” he responded excitedly, nearly sliding in an attempt to sit down next to you.

“How did you find me here?” your brows furrowed as you looked at the man, something a bit off about his presence.

“You know that I’d find you anywhere,” he told you, looking over at you as you shook your head, and turned your away from him.

“Then why did you leave?” You asked, biting back bitter tears. “You promised me that you’d never leave,” you muttered with a wobble in your voice.

He reached a calloused hand out to your face, and gently turned it back towards him. “I’m so sorry. I made a really big mistake, an-and now I can’t get back. I’m gonna try to find you, but you have to help me.”

“You’re just my brain telling me what I want to hear,” you whimpered, sitting up.

“No Y/N, it’s me. Really me. It’s so hard to explain, but I messed up really bad. I need you to try to find me too. But I don’t even know if we’re in the same universe anymore.”

You gave Steve a strange look at this point, wiping your face with the back of your hand and huffing softly. This did seem a bit far fetched for your subconscious to conjure up on its own.

A loud and sharp sound interrupted your thoughts, and in an instant, the field of flowers began to fade into obscurity, daffodils and pink tulips turning to nothing more than smudges of pastels against a similarly smudged pale sunrise.

Yet through the dissolving of the dream, and the distorted noise of what you could only assume was your alarm clock, Steve remained. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. “I just want to be with you again. Please,” he paused, “bring me back home.” He begged, “back to you,” he pleaded before vanishing as well.

—

You woke up in a pool of your own sweat, your phone’s alarm ringing obnoxiously, as you used one hand to turn it off, and another to dry the steady stream of tears that had escaped your eyes at some point during your rest.

You had to admit, that was a rather bizarre dream. You’d had your fair share of dreams about Steve since his departure, yet none as vivid as this. Although it was just a dream, it felt like something more. A message, even. You grabbed your phone, and rushed to type in a recap of the event into your notes app, before rubbing the rest of the sleep out of your eyes, and heading out to the kitchen of the Compound to find someone else to confide in.

Lo and behold, Banner stood in the kitchen steeping a cup of green tea.

“Morning, Y/N. How’d you sleep?” He asked, taking a sip of the drink, before taking a seat at the dining table.

You chuckled softly to yourself, and approached the Nespresso machine, “That’s a great question. I guess I slept fine, but Steve was there.”

“Again?” Bruce questioned, setting down his mug.

“Yeah, but it was kind of different. He basically told me that he was stuck and needed me to help him,” you popped a pod into the machine, then slid your own mug under the spout.

“That is different,” Bruce agreed. “What do you think is going on in that brain of yours?”

“No idea. It was just so weird, because he told me that he thinks he’s in a completely different universe. Uh, he was just being vague about some mistake he’d made.”

“Hmm,” Bruce grumbled pensively while the sound of your coffee pouring also filled your ears “What do you think happened? Weird dream, or meaningful dream?”

You shrugged hopelessly, then looked down at the floor as Natasha entered the room. “Morning, assholes,” she greeted, shuffling over to where you were standing by the counter, and giving you a classic Nat half hug upon seeing your bloodshot eyes, indicating another tumultuous night. “How’re you holding up, babe?”

You simply shrugged again in response, grabbing your now filled mug, and setting it down on the counter.

“She had another dream about him,” Bruce informed Nat.

“You poor thing,” she said genuinely, despite her words’ sarcastic nature. As you sat down at the counter seats, Nat began to make her own drink. “I know you guys were close, but it might be time to let go. You need closure, and maybe allowing yourself to grieve will help you to not dream about him so often.”

You stared down into the dark liquid, and frowned as you saw a hint of your unkempt reflection. “Yeah, you’re right. But I’m worried. What he was saying in my dream was basically a cry for help. I know, it could just be me projecting, but it just felt so real…” your voice trailed off, and you glanced up to see Bruce and Natasha sharing a concerned look.

“You guys think I’m crazy don’t you? Great. Fine. I’m gonna go train,” You muttered, grabbing your mugs handle and slipping out of your seat before leaving the kitchen. You couldn’t stand being judged in that moment. Was a little support from your friends too much to ask for?

——

Aware that your teammates didn’t believe the weight of your dreams, you seeked out Wanda, and practically begged her to read your memories and relay them back to the team as a way to gain another witness, and possibly get Steve the help that he might need.

If Steve was truly trapped in another universe, perhaps the scientists on the team could create technology that could help bring him back.

As you’d expected, Wanda giving her testimony on what she’d seen in your subconscious to your teammates had helped your case significantly. Although a bit hesitant, Tony and Bruce were desperate to get Steve back, and if it meant going on a wild goose chase, they were open to taking that risk.

Sooner than later, a small watch was created that seemed to be able to harbor the ability to jump into different universes throughout the multiverse.

You were sitting in the common room, playing a game of chess with Thor, when the trifecta of Tony, Bruce, and Wanda approached you with a small device that appeared to be some sort of smart watch.

“Y/N, you’re going on a mission,” Tony began. “We have good reason to believe that Steve is in fact, in some other universe somewhere in the multiverse. We have no idea how he contacted you, but if your connection to him is strong enough that he can talk to you in your dreams, there’s not a doubt, well, maybe like three doubts, in my mind that you can find him in a different universe.” The watch was passed into your hand.

“Some things we’ve figured out through a few practice runs is that in these universes, you already kind of technically exist. You may have to try to come up with certain memories on the spot, but for the most part, you should remember what your life is like in that universe as soon as you get there, and fit right in.

Now, the time that you can stay varies in each universe. For some, it’s a long time. Maybe even years. But in others, you might only be able to stay for a matter of minutes. It really just depends on how time works in their reality. About thirty seconds before you’re automatically sent to a different reality, you’ll get a little vibration on your wrist that’ll tell you it’s time to go.

If you need to leave before that vibration, there’s a setting that allows you to do so. You can also come back to this specific universe anytime you need to, but we’re under the impression that it’ll take less of an overall toll on you if you just go straight from one universe to the next.” Bruce added.

“Remember, your mission is to find Steve and bring him back, okay? There are infinite amounts of universes out there, so there are infinite versions of Steve you might come across. Please don’t bring whoever else you might fall in love with back here,” Wanda teased. “We don’t need any more trouble with the time and universe cops.”

You chuckled stiffly, but were trying to really absorb the information you’d just been loaded with.

“You can leave whenever you’re ready. Right now, tonight, a week. Whenever, okay?” Bruce told you, and you simply nodded. “Alright. Safe travels, okay?”

“Yeah. Thank you guys, seriously.”

“You think we’re doing this for you? We want our Capsicle back!” Tony teased. You shook your head fondly, then exited the room, going to your bedroom for some peace and quiet, and to attempt to process everything you’d just heard.

You wrapped the watch band across your wrist, then scrolled up and down the interface, surprised at everything it could do. Yet,  before you could even say ‘wow,’ the world seemed to fade to black.

——

When you opened your eyes, you were standing in the same field outside of the compound that you’d been standing in just a few days prior, reliving the final moments you’d shared with Steve.

Except, Steve wasn’t the one standing on the platform. In fact, Steve was standing next to you, his hand squeezing yours in the comforting manner that you’d grown to know over the past six years. The both of you watched Thor wave a friendly goodbye, then disappear into thin air.

You were at a loss for words. It felt like a do-over more than anything else, but you tried not to get ahead of yourself and mess anything else in the universe up, in an attempt not to cause another butterfly effect..

“This is all finally gonna be over,” Steve said, pulling his hand away from yours, so he could wrap his arm around you tightly. “All of this pain and suffering, all of the stress from those Goddamn stones.”

You nodded wordlessly, in a bit of shock from seeing the man that appeared to be your Steve, and feeling his comforting touch after what had felt like a lifetime without it.

“Maybe we can finally start over. Move into the suburbs, have a few kids, the whole white picket fence,” he sighed softly, imagining an ideal future with you beside him.

You nodded, barely being able to think with the overstimulation of being in Steve’s presence. All you could do was inhale deeply into Steve’s chest, and ignore the soft vibration on your wrist, alerting you of your departure. “I love you Steve,” was all you could muster as you mumbled into his chest.

“Let’s go home.”

next chapter

[theunconcernedembalmer]

Toko! I was thinking of creating an ask the character blog for IDV or Genshin Impact and wanted a few tips on how to start off. Anything you can share?

ey yo my dude!! thank you so much for this question, now im lowkey tempted (again) to make a genshin ask blog sjadhlkshgkahshglsaj anyway my 1.5 cents is under the cut, yall know how much i talk here HAHAHAHAH

uhhhhhh so i guess we start with picking a character u really Vibe with tm? I KNOW THIS SOUNDS LIKE COMMON SENSE BUT LIKE ive been considering making a genshin ask blog for a while now but i never really got to it cos i couldnt really decide on a character (plus the fact that their outfits are. so intricate. is also a hmm since i try to follow details to a t) (at first i wanted to do zhongli, but i feel like to be able to muse him well u need to know the lore super super well, which i dont n im too lazy to research on that aha. n u know how much i respect characterizations, especially for such a complex character like him. i also considered xiangling for a period of time mostly for guoba but also like i have 2+1 blogs here n having one more might not be a very good idea aha) (as for aesop he was my Hyperfixation Character tm also cos i looked at his kit n went Yep i could work with this. probably)

so assuming ur not a dumbass like me n u kinda know who u wanna pick, id actually say to snoop around here for other ask blogs n kinda get a feel of the... scene? is that the word? or like u know, other blogs that u can potentially vibe with. ive run a couple of ask blogs before this current one (both that have died for different reasons) n from my experience interacting with other blogs (if theyre okay with it, i think most should be) is pretty fun. it also kinda helps get ur blog around to other ppl on other blogs so they can go Oh whats this cool shit n check u out, n its also a reason why we kinda reblog promo posts for other blogs (also cos we’re always excited when someone new comes on, its really the more the merrier. we see all :eyes:). interacting with other blogs is also an option when ur inbox is looking real roomy too

another reason why i havent exactly done a genshin blog is that idk i cant actually seem to find genshin ask blogs around (i have seen rp blogs, or those that answer asks with mostly text instead of art, but thats. not my thing since i hate my own writing aha) (i did find one aether blog some time ago, but for some reason i hardly see them around anymore??? idk man i might be wrong). its not like im trying super hard to find them ask blogs, so im sure they exist out there (hopefully?? im not sure but im being optimistic). i mean theres nothing wrong with just starting an ask blog without others around, but for me i do find a difference when i interact with other ask blogs n when i dont, n i prefer when theres others to have fun with (unfortunately i couldnt find any ask blogs to interact with in my previous fandom. i tried, but the blogs i approached seemed to go inactive shortly afterwards...) plus u get to meet friends that way too :D (i made a lot of friends via idv askblogs n its really been a joy vibing with others)

as for the idv scene. gestures around me. unfortunately there are a lot of ask blogs that arent that active anymore, but theres still some of us who are alive n kicking empty inboxes, n im sure everyone would love to see a new face around. winks at u. also there seems to be a lot more blogs popping up lately, which is really heartening to see.

then u kinda just. make ur blog? n a starting introduction post so ppl can reblog it n spread the word XD n yay u have a blog i guess??? XD

i gotta say tho. dont expect ur blog to take off immediately (especially for smaller fandoms like idv, tvbh i didnt think my blog would even get half this far when i started cos of how non existent idv tumblr seemed to be) n ur inbox will probably be looking pretty empty a lot of the time (or at least filled with some that u havent quite thought of how to reply to yet aha) (but also like empty inboxes happen pretty often, im sure most of us here have experienced this problem)

in the case of the first ask blog i ever started, it never really took off at all. ngl it was kind of demoralizing n depressing but to be fair i had picked one of the more obscure characters in the series, so obscure that many ppl in the fandom would have never heard of this character before. if u wanted to know, i took a character that only appeared in the 2nd musical of the series, who also made a very brief cameo in the manga to acknowledge his existence within that universe. thats how obscure my character was, but i went with him purely because he was my favourite character. i will say though i did enjoy it while it lasted n i learnt a lot from the experience, n i think thats whats important really.

i guess this kinda leads on (not really but let me digress) to the whole uhhhh thing where if u choose a more popular character, u get more attention. which is fine i guess? if u really vibe with the character, i mean theyre popular for a reason. n choosing a more popular fandom (like genshin) would objectively also get u more viewers n numbers. but like honestly i believe that ask blogs are meant for u to have fun with, n like trying to get popular gets tiring pretty fast (this shouldnt be like a main goal, but u know sometimes u subconsciously also want that gucci follower count n bomb ass notes or something. i used to be guilty of this until i realized it isnt worth it) especially if ur not enjoying yourself in the process. (case in point: my previous fandom was considerably larger n my blog got about 700 followers within a year or so, but it got very tiring n stressful to maintain after my interest in it died, n no one was really interacting with the blog even though i tried which kinda made it even more depressing despite the so called success n popularity of the blog)

anyway on a less serious note, theres a lot of fun stuff u can do with the ask blog, like some ask blogs have really fancy tags that i really like n try to do but also like not really HAHAHAHA. i kinda just channel what i want to see in an ask blog into my own ask blogs (good art is one, i try very hard for it to be good :,DD another is characterization, n others is just extra miscellaneous arts n stuffs like au ideas or memes. these are also somethings u could work on during ask box downtimes perhaps)

uhhh another side thing is like a posting schedule i guess? like ppl would be more likely to interact (i think) if ur blog is relatively active, n this is usually determined by the last post u made (i think XD). but like generally for blog maintenence id say try to kinda find a frequency that ur comfortable with?? cos i know my once a day posting is kinda insane if i wasnt so hyperfixated on all of this n fight the urge to dump all ur replies when u finish them XD (though ive seen some blogs do that n they do it pretty frequently so its pretty nice to know once u see their post u can spend some time going through the latest batch of posts XD) the queue function is pretty useful here even though i truthfully have never really used it, i kinda just post from my drafts really but it also helps to space out ur content to seem somewhat active especially when u dont have the time to be working on replies sometimes. i hope u know what im trying to say here aha

ANYWAY that was like my 1.5 cents cos i dont even think its worth 2 cents HAHAHAHAH these are just my thoughts from running all my blogs up till now, some that are still running n the others that have just died a natural death. i wouldnt actually delete them (theyre still around actually XD) cos theyre kinda like archives n i can look back at what i did last time. cos ngl i made some high quality stuff back then, n i dont even know how i managed to do that aldhflhdsgk. also ppl do look at archive blogs every now n then for the content thats there yknow

BUT YES anyway if u do decide to join the idv ask blogs hmu, ill be sure to give u a lil shoutout here. winks

[dokeblr]

He Loves Me, He Loves Me More

Character/Pairing: Mirio x Chubby Reader

Summary/Prompt: Readers quirk is Flora, making them bloom petals, inconvenient for when they gets flustered. They struggle to control it, making them self conscious.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Brilliant shades of yellow sprinkled across your skin, some being tugged off by the wind and circling you, the sunlight casting colourful shadows in all shades like rays of sun against your skin.

You looked ethereal, so captivating to everyone around you, drawing the eyes of your fellow classmates from their own training as gasps of delight filled the air from a few of the students.

Those snapped you out of your peaceful state, and soon red petals of Columbine Rose sprung from your skin and settled around you in a flurry, their soft and slow floats an opposite to your swift and jaunting movements as your arms came to hug your curves and tug down your sleeves, only to cause more petals to gush out around you.

Embarrassment was a reaction your classmates were used to bringing out of you, even if unintentionally. Your quirk, while mesmerizing, was hard to keep under control. It required having a constant leash on your emotions and feelings, which was something you found yourself struggling to do.

As you fought to control yourself, slicked tuffs of yellow came marching towards you from across the room.

Mirio Togata.

As one of the big three, his presence was hard to ignore, but he seemed to make it his own personal mission to get in your face and steal your attention as much as possible. Whether it was waving at you in the corridors, trying to chat with you at lunch or checking up on you during training when you were flustered.

If only he knew how much worse he was making things.

Before he could come too close, you quickly excused yourself to your teacher and bounced off quickly to the toilets, a flurry of rose petals trailing behind you.

It was a wonder as to how Mirio was oblivious to your feelings, never managing to get near you before you ran off in bursts of petals, spraying out like a prism of colour, with your face as red as a rose.

Most girls in UA had a crush on the future pro hero, but it seemed like you were the only one who couldn’t stand to be near him.

The next time you saw him was at the end of class before lunch, everyone was milling about their desk as they gathered their things, groups of friends floating here and there to talk about the lesson and their plans for the day.

Your guard was down while you were packing your notebooks into your bag, not paying attention to your surroundings.

“Hey there, Y/N!” The loud and cheerful voice alone was enough to startle several plumes of petals out of you, but the angular, grinning face that was now taking centre place on your notes was what got you jumping out of your seat with a yell.

“Aha! Sorry about that, didn’t mean to startle you there.” Mirio rubbed his neck sheepishly, standing up from your desk. “I just wanted to check you were ok after gym this morning, you seemed pretty worked up.”

This was not a situation you were prepared for. In front of you stood Mirio, in all his tall, buff glory with his full attention directed towards you, someone with barely any grasp on your quirk compared to his.

‘Have I even spoken to him before?’ You wondered, raking through your head for anything as more and more petals poured out of your pores and landing all around your desk in a heap.

You had almost worked up the courage to respond when your teacher started barking from the front of the room.

“Y/N! Clean up your mess before lunch is over, don’t leave the petals lying about.”

Despite your anxiety over being scolded for your petals, the order only added to the pressure and more mess was added to the heap.

The rest of the class scurried around you out of the classroom until you realised, much to your horror, that you were the only person left in the room with Mirio.

“I, um, I have to go get a brush.” He was standing right in front of you, not leaving much room to bypass his bulk.

“Oh sure, sorry.”

You made a beeline out of the classroom and towards the cleaning cupboard for a broom, holding your breath and focusing on trying to hold back the veil of petals trailing after you after brushing past the handsome blonde.

It was only as a muscular arm, littered with scars reached past you to grab the broom did you realise Mirio had followed behind you, giving you a closed eyed smile as you glanced back at him before walking back to the classroom, arms swinging by his sides and broom in hand.

Quickly glimpsing around the stuffy closet showed that he had taken the only broom, leaving you to scurry after him with the pan.

As you got to the class, Mirio had already swept most of the petals into a pile, humming to his own little tune.

“Mirio, let me, it’s my mess.” Your voice was soft with nerves, trying to tiptoe closer to him.

“But why?” His face was a picture of genuine confusion as you approached, eyebrows arched. “I was the one that freaked you out right? Making you create all these petals? So it’s my fault, the least I can do is sweep them up.”

Before you could register what had happened, large calloused fingers were brushing against yours as Mirio took the pan from you and began taking out the petals, now a neat pile, in all sorts of colours.

Mirio stalled suddenly as he lifted the petals, picking one out delicately between his fingers and rubbing the dainty petal with his thumb

“This is motherwort, right?” A cheeky grin slide across his features. “Are you secretly in love with someone, Y/N?”

“W-What?!” He couldn’t know. Next to no-one knew flower language, no one cared for meaning anymore, it had to have been a lucky guess.

“Oh, gardenia! Sweet love and purity!” Mirio was digging through the pile now, gushing over all the different petals gasping with joy at each one. “You’re head over heels, huh? Are they in our class?”

 Ice ran through your veins as your brain tried to process what was happening in the simplest terms possible. ‘He knew flower language’, bad, he’d know your every feeling now as soon as you got flustered. ‘He passed it off as a crush on someone else’, better, you wouldn’t have to face humiliating rejection yet.

“Oh hey, new petals!” In an instant Mirio was crouched right next to your thighs as new petals bloomed. His nose raised into the air with an audible sniff as he was picking up a new petal. “Is that… rose water?”

Your shoes squeaked against the floor as you rushed backwards, stuttering out apologies.

“I’m sorry, it’s my quirk! I-It happens when I’m sweaty.” The situation couldn’t get worse and you were facing the worst sort of humiliation. Avoiding him had been for nothing, you’d managed to embarrass yourself in front of him anyway.

“That’s so cool! Wish I could do that, would solve a lot of problems.” The last part was muffled as Mirio rubbed his nose, jumping up from his crouch and holding the newly found petal to the light. Your heart dropped.

“A red Chrysanthemum petal. Hmm.” As his eyes squinted at it your heart dropped. When they widened, it nearly broke.

“You love me?!”

There was no that you could say out loud, not without having to face heartbreak. Emotions weren’t something you were good at hiding, though.

It wasn’t petals that fell now, tears streaked your face instead, falling onto the red petals like dewdrops as you dropped your head to the floor.

“I…” You could barely croak out a sentence while your throat tightened, lump forming.

A large hand reached for yours, instantly shooting sparks through your skin. Your hand was raised up, calloused fingers nudging your palm open as an ethereal, white petal danced down and tickled your hand as it landed.

“Jonquil.” Mirio’s voice was tender, with a matching smile as he looked down at you affectionately. “Affection returned.”

His blue eyes flickered down as he took your other hand and closed your palms together, wrapping his own hands around yours and giving them a gentle squeeze.

“But, I-, why me?“ Breath wasn’t reaching your lungs and giving you the fuel to speak. “I’m not like Nejire or-, or any of the other girls in class!” Your hands broke out of his hold to gesture aggressively at your body.

Mirio was never the type to play a cruel prank on someone, or go out of his way to humiliate them, but you couldn’t accept this.

“I know you’re not.” The words stung, crushing you, but the look on Mirio’s face as you looked at the body you were waving at, it was raw and loving.

He swallowed suddenly, looking you in eye with a fierce determination. The hands that were holding yours carefully came up to frame your face, thumb stroking your chin like you were the most precious thing he’d held.

The approach was slow, but his lips were on yours before you could react. His kiss was supple, capturing your bottom lip with his, basking in everything you were.

There wasn’t a suddenness to the warmth he brought, but as his mouth left yours the chill was abrupt.

“That’s exactly why I love you.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ »»————-　♡　————-««

Notes: The quirk and entire scenario is so cute, tysm for sending this in <3 The petals I used were specific to their meaning (eg, peony = bashful). Also the title was meant to be a play on “He loves me, he loves me not”, in case anyone didn’t understand.

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression Ep 26 - German virus transmission experiment.

K: This is Dir en grey's Kaoru, with this episode of The Freedom of Expression. Joe san, Tasai san, welcome.

T: Kaoru san?

K: Hm?

T: I thought we could invite a guest today.

K: Ahhh?

T: So, should we call him?

J: Who is it?

T: Who do you think it is? Someone with a connection to this show.

K: One of those two..

J: Yeh, one of them.

T: Here you are..*hands phone over*

Caller: Hello

J: Hello.Who is it?

Caller: Its Dobashi.

K: Is it Bishbash san?

J: Bishbash Dobashi san.

Caller/Dobashi: The people watching this on Youtube will be a bit afraid, thinking 'Who is this guy??'

J: No, the core fans will know you.

D: Will they? Am I ok?

J: We've heard from Tasai san that you've moved up in the world at Tokyo Sports?

D: No way, Im just in the middle management.

K: No, no, no, only someone important could say that.

J: He's superior, thats right. Its always that pattern, right?

D: I can't really come to see you anymore, Im sorry about that.

J: Where are you going out for entertainment?

K, D: Haha

J: You're pretending to be busy, according to Tasai san, you are making full use of company funds to have fun.

D: What are you talking about?? During the corona crisis I've been stuck at home all the time.

K: Even though the Olympics won't happen, you've been using the Olympics as an excuse to run around all over Japan.

J: Yeh yeh yeh yeh.

D: Well, because its been postponed, right?

J: You don't need to hurry if its been postponed though, do you? As the Olympics reporter?

K: He's pretty stuck now.

D: Since the Olympics have been postponed, I've kinda been distanced from that role though.

J: Oh really?

T: Oh, I see.

J: Eh? Whats your job now? What are you covering now?

D: What am I covering?

J: You don't know? haha.

K: Well, no, he's become more senior...

J: Oh, yeah.

K: So maybe he won't be sent out places and stuff.

D: If I'm forced to say it, I'm probably the spiritual reporter.

K: Ehh?

T: Oh, yeah.

D: From psychics to fortunes, haha.

T: The whole of Tokyo Sports' spiritual corner is done by one person.

K: Like..give us some stories! haha.

D: I'll bring the fortune teller and psychic who Tokyo Sports recommends to see you some time.

J: Really?

D: We'll get Kaoru's fortune read.

J: Oh, lets do it!

K: Sounds good, haha.

D:  And Joe san's.

J: Oh yes, yes please!

T: I bet Joe is probably possessed by lots of girl's spirits.

J: No, I wanna know my fortune, about whether or not I'll be able to get re-married by age 55.

T: Ahh.

D: Really?

Kami: Thats impossible.

J: Impossible? Kami!

K: He appeared all of a sudden.

D: Ohh, yeah. I see.

J: Couldn't you hear Kami's voice? No?

D: Ah, Kami?

Kami: Kami heeere!

K: Kami's voice..

T: He's here.

Kami: Its Kami heere!

T: He's saying, 'Kami's heere'

Kami: Kami heeere.

K: I don't think he can hear.

J: Yeah, he can't hear. One system can't hear the other.

D: I can't hear.

T: Kami was saying in a very affable voice, 'Kami heere!'

D: Hahaha. Well, hi.

K: Hahaha

Kami: Hello.

K: Its been a while since back then, right?

J: Yep.

T: *To Dobashi* Thank you very much.

D: Yes, thank you so much!

T, J: Sorry to disturb you. *End phone call*

J: Ahh, its been a while since we spoke to Bishbash Dobashi san.

K: He seemed a bit troubled, right?

J: He did. It might be because it was difficult to communicate. But if he brings that fortune teller sometime on this show, that will be fun.

T: Will that be ok?

J: Yeah, I really wanna see it! How about you, Kaoru? Do you?

K: Yes

J: Lets do it together.

T: It is incredible. That guy seems to get it right. Its kinda scary. Dobashi saw him once, and he said he purified him.

J:Eh??

K: Oh really?

J: Was Dobashi possessed by something?

T: Well, at that time, he was going through a lot of trouble in his life, but after that..

J: Everything got better? He improved?

T: Yes, eventually.

J: Oh, lets get this guy to do us.

T: Hiranabe was also seen by him.

J: Ehh?

T: After that Hiranabe got promoted to Director.

J: Director, right?

K: Let's have today's news please Joe.

J: Yes, I'll get it started. Well, for us who are looking forward to live shows, this is some big news towards possibly re-starting them. 'Looking for 4200 test volunteers' - An experiment in virus transmission in Germany.

A group of German scientists are currently planning the project 'Re-Start 19' to find out how Covid-19 spreads in stadium environments. They aim to gather quantitative data to find out how best to restart concerts, as the current outlook for the music word doesn't look favourable. As for the project, they plan to carry it out in Leipzig Stadium, and are looking for 4200 volunteers between the ages of 18 and 50. After getting all 4200 volunteers into the statdium, a singer will perform, and they will test things like how far saliva sprays out etc. All participants must test negative for the virus two days before the experiment, and once in the venue, they must wear masks and use hand alcohol. The alcohol will contain a fluorescent substance to make it possible to see the areas where people often touch, and a smoke machine will be used to specify the spread of the virus through the air.  So, this will take place on the 22nd of August, and the researchers will announce the results before October. While some reduced scale contcerts are beginning to restart, there are high hopes that this study will produce effective data.There arent any big experiments happening like this in Japan, are they?

K: Well, yeh, because you have to use actual people in the experiment

J: Yeh

K: They'd want them to catch the disease, right?

J: Well, they are trying to see where people touch, or how far saliva sprays and stuff, so they are trying to create a simulation, using these nearly 5000 people.

T: It does come with a risk.

J: If there is an infected person there, it is possible that an outbreak might occur, but if you just make armchair guesses like, 'Oh maybe its this, maybe its that', and put on live shows with incomplete counter-measures....But if you do it properly like this, and find out how exactly an outbreak spreads in this kind if group situation, you can use that data and take appropriate counter-measures. Not emotional counter-measures, but doing it properly and  thoroughly. You could say its a very German approach. What do you think, Kaoru?

K: Hmm, yeah. Well, they are looking for people to take part, right?

J: Yeah, I wonder how that will go. It says they are currently appealing for people.

T: Volunteers, right?

J: Yeah.

K: And they must test negative two days before the experiment, but that means on the day of the experiment, there could be people who've caught it within two days.

J: Yeah, there could be. It is certainly not a zero risk situation.

K: They are recruiting people with the warning that there is a risk of becoming infected, right?

J: Well, probably, yeah.

K: If 4200 people gather in one place?

J: Yeh. They are tested two days previously, but on the day, there must be...Well, they will probable test peoples' temperatures as they arrive. But there is the possibility it gets missed. I mean, to the German people, it might be less of a case of whether thats good or bad, and more of a conclusion that its more dangerous to go ahead without gathering the proper data first. If they tried to do this experiment in Japan, it would get quite a lot of criticism, I think.

K, T: Definitely.

J: I don't know quite why that is. Maybe in Germany they have a different relationship with music, or maybe if they say, 'Lets get going!', they have to make sure they do this kind of thing first. Well, I don't know whether they'll actually be able to gather 4200 people, but they'll probably get close. They'll be forgiven for the experiment.

K: Who is funding this? The state?

J: Well, its a group of scientists, I don't know as far as whether the state will fund it, but it seems like the main focus is on these scientists. So if there was no scientific rationale for this type if live performance to go ahead..

K: Nothing will happen, right?

J: Right. Rather than having some emotionally  charged reason, like 'Now is the right time!' or , 'This is the best way!' or something, if you could set a kinda of standard using the results if this experiment, you could have some kind of criteria. Its gives a sense of security to both the performers, and the audience.

T: Tim Bendzko san

J: Bendzko san..what type of artist it he?

T: Well he's a pop singer. The conditions of the participants are, like you said Joe, testing the effects of socially distanced seating, or not.*1

Y: Yeh, yeh.

Kami: Umm...

J: Yes?

Kami: Even if they release the results to show how covid spreads or doesn't spread, in the end, if people are scared of covid they won't gather at these kind of places, but people who think covid is no big deal will gather, right?

J: Well, at first, yeah. Some people on the viewing side may be worried or scared, and end up not going.

Kami: For people who are worried about getting infected, even if there is just a small risk, they probably won't go, will they? They might go if you tell them, 'We know the transmission routes, and we have proof that you definitely won't be infected', but if you say, 'We mostly understand it, and you probably won't be infected', some people probably won't go, they will be afraid if getting sick. So even if you put a lot of effort in, and announce the results, will it be enough?

K: Well, I reckon this kind of thing will steadily keep improving.

J: Rather than happening all at once...

K: Yeah, not like that, they'll just have to keep trying to weaken peoples' fears bit by bit. But rather than doing nothing, I think this experiment will help towards moving forward a little.

J: Well, whatever you deal with, its never all or nothing. Within this process, if some people or scenes can be saved, it'll be one more thing to be relieved about. I think this problem relating to covid and live shows won't be quickly solved, even if we get a vaccine. But doing this one thing, Im repeating what you said Kaoru, but it will be important as a pointer in the direction of relief.

K: Yeah, but not only for live shows, I also want them to do it for daily life, like in the train and stuff. If we don't, then we won't be able to do anything.

T: If its made more visible, people would feel calmer about it. Like, if you know where the danger is, you won't go there, right? Avoid the pit holes.

J: Yes, thats right. Seeing those facts... well, isn't this experiment predicated to cost 100 million yen, right? I don't know if that will be funded by the government, or whether the researchers themselves will gather the money, but the very fact that there are scientists working to restart live shows, must be a source of hope for German artists. Well, so for the time being in Germany, they are appealing for healthy volunteers age 18 to 50 to take part in this experiment on transmission at live shows.

K: It will happen quite soon, right? On the 22nd? Just a little bit after this is broadcast? A few weeks after?

J: Yeah. And then the results will be announced in October, so around that time, we could talk about the results here.

T: Its data that a lot of people in the Japanese music business will want to know.

J: I think so.

K: Ok, well, let's end here. Please subscribe. Thank you very much.

*1 Couldn't clearly hear what Tasai said, but this is what the experiment conditions were.

[thepolourryexpress]

i took a mini hiatus off of tumblr (& later twitter) for finals and it’s been like ,,, a month since sarah @soldouthaz originally tagged me so i’m SO sorry fjdkdk i’m doing this before i forget about it!! thank you so so much again!!!! also so many people have tagged me in this in one form or another so i’m just gonna say a quick thank you to @mugglemirror, @defencelesst, @outropeace, @zanniscaramouche, & @raspberryoatss

this is gonna be so hard for me because (don’t hate me) i don’t see myself as a writer and i only have three published works 🥺 sorry if this is repetitive!! i appreciate you even glancing at it!!

1. describe how you first started writing and when you first posted

there’s a few answers to this one so ,, this is kinda weird but i always liked writing as a kid and in middle school, i started to roleplay-write short stories w my friends? i think that really strengthened my writing because i got to practice writing and got to experience different writing styles. it also helped me go with the flow too because i wasn’t the only one controlling the story fjdkdk idk!! i tried my hand at writing fic i wanna say when i got to high school (but all those are deleted now and were no more than 4k & garbage lolol) but it was only during last year’s blff that i posted something!

2. which of your characters do you typically resonate most closely with? do you base any characters off of yourself? 

i don’t think i necessarily base any characters off of myself. i might give them a few little traits here and there. for (you’re gonna see me in a) new light, i was self-indulgent with louis’ job, and harry’s music taste was based off of my own.

3. where do you often find inspiration? 

i like finding inspiration in songs! also prompts!! it’s why i love the blff so much!! all the ideas are right there!

4. has quarantine helped or hindered your writing process? 

hmm i don’t think it’s done anything for me LOL it might’ve freed up some time where i had to commute before but i don’t really think it has much of a difference on my writing. but who knows! i’m a baby writer if that fjkdkd

5. do you listen to music/noise while you write or do you prefer silence? 

music 100%!! i either have writing playlists or i just listen to anything!! my cowboy harry playlist was 5 hours long at one point but that’s a little excessive to share hfjfkd

6. what is your biggest writing pet peeve in your writing or in general? 

repeating myself !! also when i use clichés because i Always get them wrong LOL i swear i live in another world or something because i really have to think before i use those.

7. describe your ideal writing setup

ahh i don’t know if i have one!

8. favorite time of day to write? 

i wanna say night time but i usually pass out LOL i like writing whenever i can find the time in my busy schedule between school and work so ,, i’m honestly not picky!!

9. favorite genre to write + one you’d like to try writing in the future? 

i’m gonna say humor because it’s the only thing i can write but i really love fantasy fics and i’d love to create my own universe like that one day lol

10. do you struggle with writer’s block? how do you typically overcome it? 

i either work on something else, force myself through it, or ,,, ignore it and hope it goes away LOL i work best under pressure which is ,,, not good

11. what is the easiest part of your writing process and the most difficult? 

easiest: writing!

most difficult: starting to write!

12. how do you come up with original characters? (if applicable) 

i’m the WORST at this but ,, sometimes i base them off of real people or just concepts? names usually come last because i’m so indecisive LOL

13. what is your favorite and least favorite word? 

favorite: murmurs

least favorite: moist

14. what is one thing about your writing that you’re really proud of and one thing you hope to continue working at? 

descriptions are really hard for me. it’s something i struggled with with both my blffs this year. a lot of the scenic description that’s in through the wheatfields and the coastlines came very last. i spent god knows how long trying to get my memories of the state to come to life while staring at my pinterest board for hours and just ... nothing lived up to what i had in my head. maybe i’m a little too harsh on myself, but descriptions really get me!

i think i’m proud of my dialogue? i feel like i’m decent at being able to give a character their own personality through their speech.

15. what work of yours has your favorite ‘verse/world building? how did you come up with it? 

through the wheatfields and the coastlines ! i just really fell in love with the characters and the world i created. it’s close to the my heart and built off of my memories from living in [redacted] so it means a lot to me 🥺

16. what font and size do you write in? single spaced or double? 

i had to look at my docs to see LOL honestly it’s on google doc default arial 11pt 1.15 line spacing

17. what is a typo(s) you find yourself making consistently? 

honestly what don’t i make a typo of LOL

18. (if applicable) do you separate fic writing from fandom? 

yeah, i think so. i like for my characters to resemble their actual selves but it’s more of a story than anything else.

19. what emotion is your favorite to write? which is the most difficult? 

omg ok close your eyes my water signs are showing but my favorite is when the characters are in love 🥺 i love writing them so endeared and giddy and in love with each other. the softest and purest form of love!!

the most difficult for me is angst i think ,, almost cried (actually cried) writing the fight scene in through the wheatfields and the coastlines and it was literally the tiniest fight ever ,,,

20. what is one thing you hope readers always take away from your works? 

i hope they enjoy it! for cowboy, i put some little political and history lessons in there if you squint!

21. what is the best and worst writing advice you’ve ever received? 

worst: don’t use “says/said” — i think that’s so stupid lol you don’t have to say something different Every Time a character speaks ,,, said/says is good i promise

best: this one came from my english teacher but read your work backwards when you’re editing ? start randomly somewhere because if you read in the same way you wrote it, your brain is gonna read it how you meant to write it at that moment (you’re gonna expect what comes next)

22. which one of your works would you most want to see turned into a film/television show? 

okay so, through the wheatfields and the coastlines because it would be the PRETTIEST thing ever!!!! also (you’re gonna see me in a) new light because it’d be funny as a romantic comedy in my opinion — very proposal-like vibes

23. do you write scenes chronologically or out of order? 

i do both! i get so bored sometimes and it ends up in 20 unfinished scenes that don’t relate to each other at all. i’m the queen of [add more]

24. how do you handle criticism? 

my water dominant chart says crying BUT i’ll happily take criticism as long as it’s constructive and polite :)

25. what is the advice you would give to someone who is looking to start writing? 

do it !!!!!! there are so many resources and people who are here to help !!! it’s so much fun too (sometimes hehehe)

26. what kind of feedback on your work always makes your day? 

if you word vomit on my fic anywhere just know that i’m sobbing and that i love you :) i love hearing ppl’s thoughts on any part of the fic like !! tell me what you were thinking when you read that!! i love you!!!

27. which fic ‘verse of your own would you most like to exist in? which fic’s characters would you most like to befriend? 

hmm gonna say through the wheatfields and the coastlines !!! i just ,,, i love louis’ friends and family and i love harry’s lil group of friends

28. what do you always enjoy getting asks about/wish people would ask about more? 

honestly anything :’) any little question or comment makes my day :’)

29. what has writing added to your life? how has it changed you? 

it’s brought me lots of friends and just ,,, fun!! a way to wind down and just build something i’m proud of! i think it’s made me a lot better at writing too since i’m constantly doing it :’)

30. why do you write? 

for fun!! honestly i just wanted something fun to do during the blff last year and here i am again :’)

boost yourself + tags! 

1a. share the last sentence you wrote 

i haven’t written since ,,,,,,,,, a few weeks ago so ,,, here ya go

“Harold,” Louis calls, his voice followed by the light pattering of shoes against the hardwood flooring of Harry’s apartment.

2a. describe the wip you’re most excited about 

i only have one official wip 🥺 mr dom kink instructor au but ,,, y’all have been putting ideas in my head for a cowboy sequel or drabble 😔

3a. share the piece of dialogue from one of your works you’re most proud of 

from bang bang (my baby shot me down)

“Maybe we’re too codependent. We need different friends. You need some friends to hang out with,” Louis hums, peeking up from his phone.

“I hang out with Jeff,” Harry says, spitting in the sink.

Louis makes a face. “Jeff’s not a friend. He’s— would you like me to be nice?”

“I hang out with Ben.”

“You’re not making this very easy to be nice,” Louis sighs, tipping his head back and staring up at the ceiling.

i just think it’s funny fjkdkd also this from the same fic

“You were the one who gave me a B on my paper when it deserved an A,” Louis argues, and Harry can tell he regrets it the moment he sees Harry’s smirk crawl onto his face.

“I can give you a D now.”

4a. share the best first and last lines from your work(s) 

first line from through the wheatfields and the coastlines:

Louis doesn’t remember his head hitting the table.

last line from through the wheatfields and the coastlines:

“I was,” Louis finally responds, a bright smile on his face as he turns away from the sight on the porch. “I’m the storyline.”

first line from (you’re gonna see me in a) new light:

Harry shouldn’t have been the first name to pop up in his head.

5a. link the last fic you read 

currently reading dripping like spider milk! love it so much so far 🥺 next i’m gonna finish in a sea of mist!! and then all the other fics that have been posted!! i’m soooo behind

6a. link the last work you published 

through the wheatfields and the coastlines

7a. link to your ao3 (if applicable) 

thepolourryexpress

8a. someone that inspires you 

all my writer babies!! also louis because he’s ,,, louis 🥺 also blp and blff because they’re sososososo supportive always!!!!

9a. a comfort fic/work that you’ve been grateful for this year 

hold onto this heaven (of yours)

the devil’s in the details

bruise you like a peach

10a. other writers that you’d like to tag! 

i know everyone’s done this already but just in case i’ll tag @soldouthaz (hopefully you’ve done it yourself 🥺), @loulicate-recs, @tomlinvelvetfics, @loubellies, @harriblou, & @persephonelouis if you’ve done it, so so sorry!! feel free to share your post with me so i can read and share!! here’s the questions if anyone needs!

[i-am-just-a-kiddo]

2020 content creator review

i was tagged by @vishcount as usual, thank you  💕  i answered the questions below the cut, and everyone that is tagged is there too, if you just wanna skip my ramblings and go straight down there.  (also gosh i hope all the links work rip)

1. first creation and most recent creation of 2020: 

this lan wangji oneshot, apparently. i can’t remember when i actually wrote it, but my ao3 tells me i posted it in january 2020. i remember i just wanted to explore lwj’s time of mourning and dive into his mind of that time, even if it made me eternally sad?

my most recent 2020 creation that is public, is the second chapter to this casmund/edmund character study fic i started writing in 2016. i did not expect to return to that but rewatching the narnia movies did that to me. i guess it’s one of those ever-returning fandoms

2. one of your favorite creations from 2020: 

my niemo (nie huaisang/mo xuanyu) fic, no question. diving into this, i fully knew that this pairing probably has a tiny audience and honestly, i did not expect to churn out 30k for them. god. am still suffering because why the fuck did i do that to myself (and everyone reading). thank you vishie for standing by me all the time.

3. a new style you tried this year and a gifset edit that uses it: 

my historical taegi AU set in silla korea - i don’t think it’s actually a new style writing-wise, but it was an entirely different process of creating. i did a week of only research, diving into amounts of academic texts and sources to figure out my frame and setting. it was so much fun and in the end, with everything i learned, it felt like the fic was only just the ‘by-product’ of my research. though i must say, writing the story itself was challenging in a very different way, by that i mean that the characters made me furious and yet i had to write it like that cause i like to suffer :) 

as for gifset, am not sure? i can’t think of any so i am just linking the daechwita mv cause it’s iconic. i guess this mv is more joseon inspired, while my setting was silla somewhere between the end of 7th and beginning of 8th century; but it was the final straw to finally make me write that historical taegi au i always wanted to write with hwarang tae. also this mv inspired me to have yoongi as a tyrannical king cause why not amirite?

4. a creation to be proud of: 

my wei wuxian oneshot during burial mounds; i had a lot of fun writing him and projecting all my nightmares onto him. i went in without a plan and ended up with something i am actually quite proud of? it gave me so much space and room to just...pour out my words and not worry too much about anything else. 

5. a creation that took forever: 

my post-canon wangxian adventure or qinghe chaos, as i lovingly call it. i think i started writing it in november 2019? not entirely sure about that, i only know it took ages. i wanted to create a whole new political environment, as it takes place somewhere around 70 years after canon (they wanna be immortal, shut up) and it was fun thinking of new challenges and new obstacles that face the new generation of cultivators. unfortunately i did not have the capacity to write a full blown political conflict. that’s why i never really incorporated all my thoughts into the story itself, but hey, if anyone has questions i have notes (and vishie, once again, is the most blessed person to plot with me, ily)

6. your creation from 2020 that received the most notes: 

am gonna measure this by kudos on ao3 in that case, which would be the aforementioned lwj oneshot Cold Moon, Long Nights Moon. I feel incredibly fond of it and i’m really happy that people liked it. it feels special somehow and i just want to thank everyone who read that and liked it.

7. a creation you think deserved more notes: 

oh i wrote many fics that year for smaller fandoms, which makes me grateful for every single feedback i received. i think i had hoped my previously mentioned historical AU would receive more, but it’s okay because i still loved it. 

another one is this princess sook myung/ah roh fic that i wrote for my ‘make hwarang gay again’ series. i finally finished this show and it furstrated me so much - the gay potential that went to waste, the horrendous writing for female characters. i liked the chemistry between ah roh and the princess, and yes i get it, it’s a rare pair and this fandom is kinda dead, but. the girls deserve their shine and love (though still, i am grateful for every single kudos i receive and i am still proud of it)

8. a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it: 

i joined many new fandoms this year for which i wrote, but i want to mention my shang xirui character study for winter begonia, because it was very interesting to explore that? and i had fun too, it was one of the first things i properly wrote after my hiatus, so i felt quite proud. also once again, this fandom has way too little content and the show is underrated. 

9. a creation you made that breaks your heart: 

i wanna mention two here. first is this wen ning & song lan oneshot that was a pure joy and also very sad to write. i just love these two so much, and i love them together even more. i have many thoughts how much comfort they could give each other and believe me, i have many more that i want to explore in the future. 

the second one is the mu nihuang & xiao jingyan oneshot i wrote for the nirvana in fire gift exchange 2020. it broke my heart, but at the same time it felt like something was healing too? it hurt at the pain both characters go through, but i also felt fond that maybe, they were not alone.

10. a ‘simple’ creation that you really love: 

hmm there are a few, i mostly want to mention my fei liu character study? it has no plot or anything, it is just an exploration of his mind and thoughts, which was an absolute joy to write and somehow so easy. 

i also quite like the yyy series i started - maybe i can write more for these two because they somehow give me the feels.

11. a favorite creation created by someone else: 

alright here we go folks:

first i want to mention my dearest @vishcount because newsflash!!! i am the biggest fan. of course i need to mention your wondeful, stunning, breathtaking masterpiece that is your xicheng novel (and yes it is a novel, i say so). it is still ongoing and you started it in 2019, but i need to mention it here because it truly is something that is lifechanging. i feel so blessed that i get the front seats and vip access to all the updates, to all your thoughts and ideas. you go through a lot with it and i am never not proud of you ❤️ another one i want to mention is this wei wuxian & mo xuanyu oneshot you wrote for me because i am still crying about it. i have no words.  honourable mentions: your easter islanders (lan wangji and jiang cheng) and this xicheng soulmate au 

another creator i want to mention is @the-cloud-whisperer and their nirvana in fire fic Heroic Woman（烈婦） , which is absolutely wonderful.  i found you through your ATLA fics (which i adore) and saw you posting about nirvana in fire and this year, finally, i watched the show and was blown away. i love your other NIF fics too, but this one feels very special because i always thought li yang’s character was so incredibly fascinating. thank you for writing this 💕

for more other creations just look at my bookmarks on ao3, there is the untamed, nirvana in fire, yyy the series, hwarang, winter begonia and original sin (from 2020 and many more if you scroll further) please give everyone i mentioned love!!!!!

12. your favorite content creators and blogs that you appreciate: 

oh boy here we go. once again @vishcount, @the-cloud-whisperer, @intyalote, @sassyassassy, @isabellaofparma, @passionpeachy, @finny-red, @guzhuangheaven  @honeyiling, @holmesandwhatson  @bloody-bee-tea, @leoyunxi, @gusucloud, @ohsehuns and many many more that must slip my mind.

all of you, consider yourself tagged in this game and even if we never spoke to each other, i greatly appreciate all of you and i want to give some love. if you feel like doing this, i hope you can have fun!  💕

[voleurdesoleil-archive]

Rub a dub

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Pairing: Nate x gender neutral detective

word count: 4.6k

read on ao3

It was late afternoon, judging by the warm rays of sunlight still coming through the high windows of the library where I had spent the whole day with Nate. The sunrays  were creating halos in which dust was slowly floating around, as if Time had slowed dramatically in the library to let us enjoy each other’s presence a bit longer.

This book-filled day had started with me telling the vampire about wanting to improve my Spanish, which we did at first. And to be fair, he was an excellent teacher. I could now see why Farah was so proud of him. But we had stopped long ago, favoring reading instead, although Nate had insisted on me reading a Spanish book. It will help you with your vocabulary, he said, flashing me a soft smile.  

But Spanish was far from our minds in this instant.

At some point during our reading, Nate had switched positions and was now lying comfortably in my laps. I had discarded my book to the side as I couldn’t focus on what I was reading with him in such close proximity. So I listened to his gentle voice as he was reading some Spanish novel, the words flowing out like a river of the sweetest honey. I watched his face closely, looking at every micro expressions he would make, such as the slight twitch of his mouth when something amusing came on in the book or the gentle frown that would settle in between his eyebrows as something not as loving was happening.

The sunlight made his eyes come alive, and the emotions he held in them were much more visible. Their color reminded me of the dark, varnished, most definitely antique furniture he had here, in his small sanctuary. His glossy hair was a little messy from moving around in my lap and I just couldn’t help myself but start gently playing with it, which I could notice awoke an immediate reaction within him.

Nate’s whole body relaxed as I raked my fingers through his beautiful hair. His reading came to a stop but I only noticed because his previously closed eyes were now peering into my own, curiously, studying my features, just like I did with him a moment before, in silent wonder. His deep gaze swept over my face slowly, like he was memorizing every feature of my face in fear that I would disappear.

My body reacted before my mind could comprehend what it was doing. I reached out a hand towards his face slowly, careful not to burst the bubble we had put ourselves into. With a breath stuck in my throat, I leaned closer and followed closely what they were doing. His skin was so incredibly soft and warm making my lips tingle at the thought of kissing him there. I enjoyed how he seemed to melt into my touch, his expression so open and welcome, making me wonder about confessing my feelings for him. Surely he would know already but there’s something about actually saying those words out loud that makes it much more real.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when a warm hand took mine and the softest pair of lips kissed my palm. My train of thought crashed through the front of my head and disappeared outside and suddenly any rational thought looked like a far away dream. The mischievous glint in his eyes tells me he knows exactly how this affected me and that he is very much pleased with it, like he was counting on it.

In a futile attempt to regain my composure I spoke up, my voice almost cracking with every word. “Rebecca said most of these books belong to you, do you have any favorites?”

Nate’s eyes lit up, our bubble bursting as he immediately stood up. “I do! I have a lot of favorites actually!” The vampire started walking around the room excitedly, like a kid in a toy shop during Christmas season, meticulously pulling out books of the many shelves as if he knew exactly where each one would be. Disappearing for a moment, he kept on rambling, his voice sometimes barely audible as he was moving away through the rows of bookshelves. “Being able to read in multiple languages is an absolute gift when it comes to books, first of all, it just gives me more books to read, because a lot of foreign books aren’t being translated into English, except for classics, but mostly because those translations are awful!” When he reappeared, he was holding a pile of books taller than him, and I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at how cute and overjoyed Nate looked. He carefully set the wobbling pile down on the coffee table before sitting back on the sofa next to me.

The pile was composed of mostly classics; Songs of Innocence, Leaves of Grass, Songs and Sonnets and a couple more collections of poetry. Authors such as Jane Austen, Edgar Allan Poe or Ernest Hemingway. The Catcher in the Rye, Wuthering Heights, The picture of Dorian Grey, A Midsummer Night’s Dream and many more, but one in particular caught my attention.

“A book about burning books, really?” I said, holding up Fahrenheit 451. I could understand why it was one of his favorites as it was also one of mines but, seeing how much he cared for his books, I couldn’t help but tease him.

To my utmost surprise, I could spot a few more contemporary books in there too.

“Percy Jackson?”

He started scratching the back of his neck, as I was pulling the series towards me. He owned the most beautiful edition I had ever seen. “Well I wouldn’t say it’s a favorite quite yet, but if I had to be completely honest, I’ve really enjoyed them and the whole universe, and this guy is actually one of the few to get his myths right, so it’s really close to being a favorite if that makes sense.” He gave me a sheepish smile.

“I can’t really blame you on that. I’ve read them way too many times not to have them as part of my own favorites.” I admitted with a laugh.

He was now sorting the books by languages in different piles. One pile in particular caught my eye and I leaned forward to read the spines. Les faux-monnayeurs, L’Oeuvre, La Peste, Parle-leur de batailles, de rois et d’éléphants, or Les Contemplations. I had to admit that seeing some of those titles had stirred in me a feeling I would have never expected: Nostalgia. Some of those books were part of my own collection, although mines did look a bit more worn out, as I had studied them back in High school, whereas Nate’s were in pristine condition, but some of them also held a special place in my heart. Just like the French language did.

“French books,” Nate said as he noticed where my focus had shifted.

His voice took me out of my trance. “You speak French?” I blurted out. “I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised because Farah did say you knew a lot of languages, but I never would’ve guessed French would be one of them.”

“Well…” his voice trailed off as he was pulling the pile closer to him. “French is actually one of my favorite languages…” He admitted almost in a whisper.

On hearing that, my mind quickly drifted away again and, ignoring the romantic thoughts that immediately started blinking in there like neon signs outside of a bar, I wondered if Farah had told him I was French.

I spent a couple minutes thinking of a way I could figure out if Farah had told him or not. A sheepish smile grew on my face as the answer was making its way into my mind. I was either the stupidest idiot or a genius.

“Will you teach me French?” I asked.

He looked at me, with a confused look. “You want me to teach you French?”

Oh god, Farah told him, I thought, but I still tried to play along with it and my smile turned into a smirk. “Of course! I’ve wanted to learn French for so long, and I bet you would be the perfect teacher!”

He seemed to think about it for a while and I couldn’t tell if it was because Farah had told him and he was wondering why I was lying, or if it was because he really didn’t know and was actually considering it. I chose to go with the latter when he agreed to teach me and asked if I knew any French words already.

“Well I do know some basic ones like ‘bonjour’, ‘mon ami’, ‘baguette’ and ‘croissant’”  I was trying so hard to fake my worst French accent, and Nate’s amused chuckle told me I was doing a good job. I tried to push my luck a bit more with my next move.

Trying to keep my voice as naive as possible, I asked: “There’s that one song I know that has some French in it but I don’t know what it means…”

“Tell me what it is and I’ll tell you!”

Trying to suppress a smile, I took a short breath. “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?”

Nate instantly choked on the tea he was sipping, almost spilling the whole cup on himself. He slowly put down the cup, his eyes wide and his cheeks beet red as I was trying to keep my lips tight not to let out a chuckle, but that didn’t quite work as I couldn’t help but smile at his expression.

The vampire cleared his throat “Well, it simply means that hmm…” He stopped for a bit, not sure where to look. Then his embarrassed gaze landed on me, and he managed to turn an even brighter shade of red. That’s when I bursted out laughing.

“Oh honey…” I let out in between giggles. “I know what it means already, I’m just messing with you!”

“You knew!? You knew and you didn’t tell me?!” He pointed an accusing finger in my direction which made me giggle even more. “You just sat there and basked in my embarrassment! You’re evil!"

My smile fell a bit as I saw a pout forming on his lips. “I know another word in French…” my voice trailed off as I tried to think of a way to comfort him. Once again faking my worst accent, I said: “Tu es très beau.”

His long lashes flickered quickly as he processed what I had just said. "Wh-what did you just say?” he stuttered.

I reached out to gently cup his cheek in my hand. “Oh Natey, French really does put you in one hell of a state…” I stated jokingly, but I had to admit that the effect French had on him was quite impressive, if all it took me to break him was a simple compliment. I took my hand off Nate’s cheek, the tips of my fingers slowly brushing against his jaw as I did.

But before I could fully pull away, Nate grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers together. “You’re very pretty too.”

My heart skipped a beat at his words, his voice sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. The way his eyes slowly glided over my face before finally setting onto mine. My breath hitched and immediately I was sucked into his deep gaze. It felt like I was drowning in the endless pool of brown that were his eyes, the warmth in them strangely making me feel at ease, like I had finally found my long lost home.

I slowly leaned closer and his gaze now rested on my lips. Giving him a small smile I brushed our noses together and leaned my forehead onto his. I heard him sigh in relief, almost as if me being away was physically painful for him. We stayed like that for a while, basking into each other’s presence and enjoying the quiet bubble we wrapped ourselves in.

___

A few hours later, after a heavy dinner that Nate had prepared for us, we were laying in the peaceful quiet of his room. The silence rarely broken by the other vampires living at the warehouse. I was laying in Nate’s arms, his usual dazzling smile plastered on his face as he was stroking my hair.

“Why do you love French so much?” The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I mean, it’s a rather difficult language to learn.”

“I know, but it’s still a beautiful language. I could talk for hours about how harmonious French sounds, but I’ll spare you that discussion.” He rolled over a little to face me. “It’s one of the first languages I’ve learned, and ever since, it has always had that resonance in me that most languages don’t have. It may sound a little silly, but I feel like it carries way more feelings than any other language I speak, and I’m not gonna lie…” A smirk had replaced his warm smile. He leaned closer, his breath tingling on my neck, to eventually whisper: “French is sexy.”

I almost choked on hearing that, rolling on my back and faking a cough to hide my mortified expression, but judging by the grin that Nate was giving me, my reaction was far from unnoticed. I couldn’t have possibly decipher if he was serious or just teasing me.

To spare myself further embarrassment, I quickly changed the subject and Nate was nothing less than eager to comply. Looked like he decided to have mercy on my poor soul. We talked until a word couldn’t come out of my mouth due to my tiredness and I fell asleep to the rhythm of Nate’s beating heart.

___

Nate was on his knees, crying for help as a blurred figure struck another blow. He barely had strength to lift his arms to protect his face. The chill of the rain was burning my face and seeping through my clothes as I tried to run towards him, but my legs gave in and I fell on my knees.

“Please stop! Stop hurting him!” I tried to yell but only a deformed wail came out of mouth. It was as if I was trapped in my own body. Unable to move. Unable to save him. My throat clenched as I tried to suppress a sob, but that didn’t keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks.

Nate took another punch, but this one seemed to be the last his bloody figure could take and I watched helpless as he collapsed on the floor. The aggressor was on him before he could even try to get up.

Now that the other vampire had slowed down, I could distinguish his features a bit more and a shiver ran down my spine as I managed to recognize Murphy.

I tried to get to Nate once again as he took a syringe out of his coat.

“Leave him alone!” Although desperate the words managed to come out of my mouth properly this time, but it barely got me a glance from Murphy whose sole focus was on Nate.

“It’s me you want! Take me! I’ll do whatever you want!” I pleaded. “But let him go… You don’t need him!”

This time it seemed like I had managed to catch the vampire’s attention. “You’re right detective… I don’t need him.” He said as he plunged the needle in Nate’s neck.

___

“Agh!” I woke with a start and immediately rolled over to search for Nate, but I was only met with cold sheets on the other side of the bed.

Panic seizing me, I fought to get out of the tangled sheets. “Nate?” I called in a whisper, afraid something would come out of the dark to attack me. I flinched with a shriek as the plushed rabbit from the Carnival fell at my feet, a folded piece of paper next to it.

Crouching on my knees, I grabbed both of the items. Immediately calming down as I recognized Nate’s fancy handwriting spread on the paper. “Went on a mission, will be back soon”, I read out loud. Clutching the little rabbit in my arms, I was surprised to notice that it smelled like Nate and without noticing it, I held it a bit tighter against my chest. A smile grew on my face as I read what was written inside the note.

“Nineteen Eighty-Four, page 124”. The vampire had drawn a little heart next to that sentence and I knew the exact line he was referring to.    

“I love you too” I whispered. The plushed rabbit being the only witness of that sudden confession.

Our discussion from earlier this afternoon came back to my mind and the idea of confessing my love to him resurfaced.

I settled behind Nate’s mahogany desk, set the note and rabbit before me and grabbed some paper to finally put down in words how I felt towards the vampire.

___

After a couple of hours, the sun was slowly rising on the horizon, peaking weakly through the tree crown. I stretched as I contemplated my finished love declaration.

I folded the sheet of paper and slid it along with Nate’s note in the pocket of my coat. “Time to go back to sleep” I mumbled to myself as I grabbed the plushy.

___

It felt like a couple of minutes had passed when I was woken up again by my phone buzzing manically on the bedside table.

Thinking it was a phone call, I brought the phone to my ear, my eyes still half closed. “Hello?” The only answer I got was a buzz. Bringing the phone back in front of my face, blinking painfully at the bright light, I managed to decipher the last text Farah had sent me, lost in a sea of question marks and my name in caps.

“Didn’t you say you were French?”

“I am”

“Then why did Nate say he taught you French yesterday?”

Fear gripped me as I threw off the bed sheets and jolted up out of bed. Furiously typing, I ran out of the room, barely managing to stop myself from bumping into Adam.

“Detective? Is there something wrong?” He asked, actual worry in his voice.

“Not yet!” I answered already running away. Halfway through the corridor I came to a stop and turned around. Adam was still standing in front of Nate’s door, looking at me with a confused look on his face. “Adam?”

The leader slightly shook his head. “Yes?”

“Do you happen to know where Nate and Farah are?”

“The kitchen I think. Nate said he would cook breakfast for you, before you woke up.” He threw me a grin. “I guess his plan kind of failed.”

“Thanks Adam!” I answered, running off. I waved at him when I turned at the corner.

When I finally made it to the kitchen, I stopped before the door, taking a moment to catch my breath. I ran my hand over my hair and lifted my phone to check myself in the reflection on my screen. I plastered a calm smile of my face before pushing open the door to the kitchen.

Farah was sprawled over a chair, as was her habit, and Nate was cooking, his back turned to me. He hadn’t noticed my entrance yet. Glaring at Farah, I mouthed the words: “Did you tell him?” to which she answered with a shake of her head. I let out a sigh of relief and that’s when Nate turned around.

His smile immediately grew. I walked to him and casually grabbed a cup in the cupboard above his shoulder, reducing the space between us to almost nothing.

“Comment va l’homme le plus sexy du monde?” I asked, turning away to hide the grin on my face as he dropped the spoon he was holding. I didn’t give him time to reply and kissed his cheek.

[ How’s the sexiest man in the world doing? ]

Grabbing the kettle and pouring water in my cup as if nothing happened, I tried to remember what I had written down during the night. “Tu sais, il y a ce garçon, tu devrais le voir, il ressemble à un dieu Grec, qui a ce sourire magnifique et à qui je pense énormément ces derniers temps. D’ailleurs, ça fait plusieurs jours que j’essaie de trouver comment lui avouer ce que je ressens.”

[ You know, there is that guy, you should see him he looks like a Greek God, who has that dazzling smile and whom I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. As a matter of fact, I’ve been trying to find a way to tell him how I feel for a few days now. ]

I leaned against the counter now facing Farah. The young vampire was sitting on the edge of her seat, almost gripping the table so hard that I was afraid she might break it from excitement. She was staring at me with her mouth wide open. Morgan was also now sitting beside her, caring enough to have forgotten to lit up her cigarette and Adam was entering the room.

I returned my attention to Nate. “Et hier, comme par miracle, il m’annonce qu’il parle français. Alors depuis j’ai bien réfléchi à ce que je pourrais bien lui dire; j’y ai même passé toute la nuit. Maintenant, je pense avoir trouvé.”

[ And yesterday, miraculously, he announces that he speaks French. So, ever since, I’ve thought a lot about what I could possibly say to him; I’ve even thought about it all night. Now, I think I’ve finally found the answer. ]

I could hear Farah gasp and say something along the lines of “I love foreign movies, Morgan please grab the popcorn and Adam do the subtitles.” Glancing at them, I could see Adam rolling his eyes, but he still, reluctantly sat next to Farah, still trying to understand what was happening.

Nate was now a confused mess, his usual smile had been replaced by tomato red cheeks and the food in his pan was starting to burn. I turned off the gas and sat on the counter, pulling Nate in front of me to be face to face with him.

“Alors voilà, je pensais lui dire à quel point je le trouve mignon, et qu’à chaque fois qu’il sourit, mon coeur se met à battre la chamade; mais ça, je pense qu’il le sait déjà.” I smiled to the vampire.

[ So here goes, I was thinking of telling him how cute I think he is, and that every time he smiles, my heart starts to pound wildly; but I think he already knows that. ]

In the corner of my eye, I could see Adam, finally understanding what was happening, standing up and grabbing both Morgan and Farah by their collar and dragging them out of the kitchen. Adam had the biggest smile I’d ever seen him with plastered on his face as he closed the door.

I knew from the noise outside that the stern vampire was probably guarding the door as Farah was trying to listen through it.

Putting my hands on the waist of a still speechless Nate. I softened my voice, making my confession more intimate as the words flowed out of my mouth. “Je voulais aussi lui dire que depuis que j’étais enfant, j’avais toujours rêvé d’apprendre à danser la valse avec mon âme soeur et que s’il voulait bien, on pourrait peut-être apprendre à la danser tout les deux. Que j’aimerais beaucoup passer mes après-midi avec lui dans son endroit préféré, la bibliothèque à l’étage du dessous, et qu’on pourrait lire nos bouquins préférés ensemble.

[ I also wanted to tell him that ever since I was a kid, I had always dreamt of learning how to waltz with my soulmate and that if he was willing to, maybe we could learn how to waltz together. That I’d very much like to spend all my afternoons with him in his favorite place, the library downstairs, and that we could read our favorite books together. ]

My hand reached up to cup Nate’s cheek. Still a flustered mess, his confusion had gone away and a wide smile started to grow on his soft face. He leaned in the touch.

“Et je voulais aussi qu’il sache que s’il le fallait, pour gagner son coeur, je lui dédierai tous mes écrits. Que chacun des mots que j’écrirai, à partir d’aujourd’hui et jusqu’à la fin de ma vie, seraient pour lui, et lui seul. Maintenant, je sais très bien qu’il pourrait trouver mieux que moi, mais que s’il le voulait on pourrait se lancer. Parce que moi je pense que ça peut donner quelque chose de beau, parce qu’après tout…” I leaned closer, to whisper in his ear. “Je l’aime…” My voice trailed off as Nate’s hands to came to rest on my waist and that his head came to rest in the crook of my neck. I could feel his tears crashing on my skin.

[ And I also wanted him to know that if it was necessary, to win his heart, I’d dedicate all of my writings to him. That every single word I would write, from today until the day I die, would be dedicated to him, and him only. Now, I know fairly well that he could find someone better than me, but that if he was willing to we could try. Because I think it could end up being something beautiful, because after all… I love him. ]

“And what’s the name of this guy?” he eventually whispered.

“His name is Nathaniel Sewell, but he prefers Nate.”

After a few moments that actually felt like an eternity, Nate lifted me off the counter to pull me in a tight embrace, my arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. “Did you fake not knowing French?”

I nodded. “I’m French silly…”

“You are?!” He almost dropped me. “Sorry…” he said as he let me down on the counter again.

“I am. I was surprised to discover Farah hadn’t told you as soon as I told her to be honest.”

“Farah knew?”

“Yes, it came up when she visited me at the station last time. Sorry I didn’t tell you.” I gave him a sheepish smile “And I’m sorry I lied to you yesterday, but when I realized you had no idea, I thought it would perhaps be a good idea to confess like that…” I glance around the kitchen and let out a chuckle. “Well that’s not exactly how I had planned it, but I panicked when Farah texted me this morning, I was hoping it would be more romantic… Gosh I’m rambling…”

“I don’t mind…” he said as he leaned closer. Our lips were a couple centimeters apart, but he didn’t move closer, as if he was waiting for the permission to kiss me. I leaned forward and captured his lips and it seemed that right in this moment, time itself stopped. The kiss was everything I have hoped it would be. It set my whole being on fire, making my body tingle all over with happiness. His lips were the sweetest thing I had ever tasted in this world, making me addicted and never wanting to let go of him.

I pulled him closer by his belt loops, wanting, needing him to be closer. The kiss was so soft it made me feel like I was floating to the sky to gently lay on those fluffy clouds. It made me feel whole and happy. Nate made me happy.

And I hoped I made him happy too.

[midnightluck]

Here's an ask! Can you tell me more about the idioglossia *cough*idiotglossia*cough* and development of Ace and Sabo? （・ω・)

oh boy, can i.

Okay! So! Who’s ready for more thoughts about the really unhealthy way these boys spent their developmental years!

tl;dr:

Sabo is self-taught and Ace has no formal schooling whatsoever

They had very limited resources and relied on each other

Language only has the meaning we give it

Ace and Sabo met at or before 5, apparently–we see them at ten saying they’ve been saving for their ship for 5 years. At some point, Sabo ran away from home and, as Ace spent little time with the bandits, they grew up mostly by themselves in the woods and Grey Terminal for somewhere like 3-5 years.

Which, can we say wow? Like, the incredible determination and, honestly probably suicidal willingness to run away before the age of 10 and make it stick is…terrifying, really. Sabo must have been very principled or very desperate.

Because of this, I also have to assume that Sabo is heavily autodidactic. One does not get morality from nowhere, after all, and if Sabo had known enough to disagree with his parents at such a young age (even if he didn’t fully run away until 7 or 8 or even 9), he must have been self-studying a lot. Most kids learn to read around 5-7, and even if we assume he’s with the most advanced group (edging on 4), he wouldn’t have the vocabulary for a lot of concepts yet.

(Side note: I’m assuming language in canon is structured more on the Western alphabets that are shown being used; kanji and character writings systems are a whole lot of nothing I want to get into–I recommend bugging @touchmycoat​ about the intricacies and depth of languages with character alphabets.)

Anyway, because of all this, I am extrapolating that he and Ace spent a lot of their developmental years together, discovering concepts that they do not have names for. There’s all kinds of vocabulary 5-10 year olds don’t have, especially two kids without formal schooling during those years. Why would they know an isthmus from a peninsula? A vale from a holler? The different types of clouds? A rainstorm versus a hurricane versus a typhoon?

But they would need to be able to distinguish these things, because they relied on the land and each other to survive. They hunted together successfully, which means that they were able to communicate, quickly and efficiently.

This is why, in my mind anyway, they would have developed their own words for concepts. They would have assigned meanings to clusters of sounds, have hand gestures and non-verbal cues because you can’t be loud on hunts. They simply could not have had the vocabulary they would have needed to survive the way they did, so I assume they made it up and found ways to convey what they needed to convey.

And the thing about creating words for very specific concepts is that I bet they never truly bothered to unlearn them. I bet Ace still uses two different made-up words for ‘cliff-that-is-safe-to-jump-off-of’ and ‘cliff-that-is-dangerous-to-fall-off-of’, because that is something they would have needed to be able to communicate quickly. I bet Sabo still unconsciously would use a made-up word for ‘food-found-while-foraging-that-we-have-not-tried-yet-and-do-not-know-if-it-is-safe,’ if he ever had to. But these are all terms that they would not have to use so much in their grown-up daily lives, so it’s entirely possible they don’t even realize they aren’t actual words other people would recognize.

This was my thought process behind that throwaway bit in Wish by Spirit, where they use the same gesture that has an established meaning to them to communicate a concept they both recognized. It’s also why I write their body language and their reactions to each other’s the way I do; when your life is in the hands of someone else for that long, you damn well learn how to read them, especially if they’re your hunting partner. They have built themselves a language; they had to have.

Now, idioglossia is usually a twins phenomenon, I know, but! That’s in our relatively safe, relatively developed modern age, where most children do not grow up alone or unsafe. I think, in this particular instance, it would stretch this far.

Anyway! Those are some thoughts on Sabo and Ace and idioglossia. I don’t think Luffy would have been as involved in it, because Luffy came late to the party and had less than a year with Sabo. Also, he’s just not very, hmm, absorbing? of his surroundings? I bet Ace, especially, learned to speak to him instead of expecting Luffy to pick up how he and Sabo spoke.

And the other thing about idioglossia, especially between twins? Once the other person’s gone? You have no reason to ever speak it again.

[shannygoatgruff]

00:00:13

Genre: Social responsibility

Pairing: Alex Høgh Andersen/OC

Warning: Language, racial slur, prejudice, mention of the YouTube video

Rating: M+18

Header by: @flowers-in-your-hayr​

For: @xbellaxcarolinax​ - thanks for lending me an ear and encouraging me to continue writing this story

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on something I saw that evoked a feeling in me. I don’t know Alex or that guy in the video. I don’t own the rights to use him or anything else in my story. I’m just going off something out there on the internet that I wish wasn’t ever there for me to have to write a story about in the first place.

A/N:  So, I don’t know if this is the right time to post this story or not, but it’s been weighing heavily on my heart for some time now. During one of my many Alex rabbit hole stalking internet searches, I came across this YouTube video of him from a few YEARS ago that made me feel a certain kind of way.  Admittedly, I went through a ton of different emotions.  I made a bunch of excuses for him.  I tried to justify him being drunk, young, being from a different country...not understanding his actions.  As a black woman, I was saddened, and a little heartbroken, but I truly don’t think there was any malice behind it.  I think it was just poor judgment on his part. But, in the end, I came up with, he’s a grown man and as a public figure he needs to be more responsible.  

I am in no way trying to sway anyone’s opinion of him, turn you against him, make you seek the video out or anything else.  I just needed to speak MY truth and get my feelings out about the situation. I’ve been the black girl in too many interracial relationships and friendships with people that just don’t get it. I am in no way trying to offend anyone - these are just my feelings.  I just needed an avenue to speak out.  

Anyway, it didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted it, mainly because I was in my feelings, but I think it’s close enough.      

I’m still an Alex fan and he could get it, at ANY moment...just say the words, Boo!  😍

I invite your comments, thoughts, and feelings...if you just wanna talk, feel free to hit me up.  I’m always open to a good discussion.

With that, 

Be easy!

Thirteen seconds…Nia Howard could do a lot in 13 seconds.  For almost 10 minutes, she had been timing herself to see exactly what types of tasks she could perform in that amount of time.  

In 13 seconds Nia could lace her brand new blue and white checked Chuck Taylor Converse tennis shoe.  She was careful to lace the shoe so the strings were only threaded on the outside of the eye-loops, creating one thick solid line across the bridge, hiding the string feeding into the next eye-loop inside the shoe, just like she liked them. This was a trick she learned in Mrs. Hamilton’s 7th grade Math class, and she had been lacing her shoes that way ever since. 

13 seconds was all it took for her to guzzle 10 ounces of the Dasani water bottle sitting on her desk. She probably could have slammed more of the water down her throat, but she wasn’t that thirsty to begin with. Had she been parched, or had it been something that she wanted to drink, she was sure she could have gotten more than 10 ounces down in that amount of time. 

Nia also discovered that she could refill the liquid nicotine and change the filter in her vape, as long as everything was laid out in front of her, in 13 seconds. She was also able to screw the tank back together, but not put the tank back on the battery base before the timer went off.  That part still took her an additional 3 seconds.  Hmm. 

In 13 seconds, she was able to remove the back of the picture frame, take out the photo, and run her thumb over the glossy paper.  It took less than that amount of time for all of the emotions of the day to come flooding back to her as she stared at their first family photo. 

It had snowed at least a foot that day.  But there they were, outside sitting in all of that powder, freezing. Nia, her boyfriend, Alex, and their then 8-week-old Siberian husky, Vlad.  He thought it would be artistic.  She thought it would be cold.  Vlad thought it was fun, running around in snow deeper than he was tall.  But they were still smiling; they were happy.  They were in love.  

Alex was wearing his favorite navy blue The North Face snowsuit, that he had zipped up to his chin. You could only see the side of his pale face, with his cold red cheek, plump pink lips, and those dark lashes covering his incredible blue eyes.  The rest of him was so bundled up, he looked like the abominable snowman.  He loved the cold and the snow.  Growing up here, these snowy days in Denmark were nothing to him.  Nia, however, wasn’t quite as used to it.  It snowed on the East Coast of the US, but not like it did in Denmark.  Her pink and white snowsuit was more for fashion than warmth.  Sitting in the snow in between Alex’s legs, she was freezing and couldn’t wait for them to finish taking pictures.  

However, his arms were warm around her, and though his lips were cold against the side of her face, she could feel his warm breath tickle her ear as he laughed and told her how much he loved her.  She had leaned against his chest and noted how well her pink and white outfit matched his blue one.  Only her dark brown skin made a contrast against the snow and Alex’s complexion, but she still looked as if she belonged.  

She sat with her feet flat on the ground, knees drawn toward her chest bringing their brown and white puppy, the perfect mix between their two tones, closer to the two of them.  While her head leaned into Alex’s kiss, her eyes concentrated on little Vlad in her lap. She had him turned so the camera could capture his one blue eye and one brown eye, while she gently caressed their fur baby, drawing him in for a kiss on his soft, furry head.  

Could they be any cuter?  They were the perfect family.  They were a good looking couple with a good looking dog.  

Thinking about the day that photo was taken quickly made her mind drift back to the first time Alex told her he loved her. She could vividly remember how he grabbed her face and leaned in for that kiss.  The way he pressed his lips to hers, and how it set off every nerve in her body.  She remembered the way her heart fluttered and how she thought she was going to float right out of her skin. But when he pulled away and looked at her with those blue eyes, he grounded her and brought her right back to the spot where he was. When his eyes shifted between hers, desperately searching for some hint that she felt the same, she knew from that moment that he was the one for her.  That entire encounter, the weightlessness, grounding, feeling his eyes look through her and hearing his heart speak her name, couldn’t have taken more than 13 seconds. She was sure it happened all at the same time.

With everything she timed, 13 seconds seemed like it passed in the blink of an eye.  It was manageable if she had a task to complete, but by no means was it a significant amount of time.  So why did it feel like an eternity, each time she watched that damn video clip?  The more she watched it, the longer it became.  That damn 13-second video clip brought out of her a new set of emotions each time she viewed it.

At first, it was shocking.  She couldn’t register anything she saw because she was too surprised at what she saw. The only thing she could process was the feeling of, Huh? 

So, she watched it again, and this time she did so with a goofy smirk on her face. The smirk was the smirk of embarrassment. Embarrassment for her, for him, for them... for not knowing how to feel.  

She had to sit with it for a few minutes before she could watch it a third time. Instead of just jumping right into again, she decided to go back to the original email and reread the message.  She had been so put off by the video that she forgot what it was that she was being asked to do about it.

When she clicked back on the email from her office and skimmed the contents she could only shake her head. Did they actually expect her to handle this?   Really?  She was a publicist.  His publicist, but come on.  This was asking a bit much, no?  There were 14 other people in that damn firm that could have handled this, even if Alex was her client.  He was still a client of the fucking firm. What was she supposed to do?

Without thinking, she put her thumb to her mouth and started biting the cuticle around her new French manicure.  She had been doing so well with that, too. She only bit or picked at the cuticles on her nails when she was nervous or angry – that’s why she made sure to keep her nail appointments every two weeks. She didn’t want to have ugly cuticles on freshly designed nails.  Now she just wasted 264 DKK.

By the third time she watched the video, she went numb.  She couldn’t tell what she felt, all she knew was her mind wouldn’t let her feel anything.  A million different thoughts and emotions swirled around her, but none of them actually hit her, yet. The best way she could explain it was akin to having an out of body experience.  It felt like the glass desk she sitting at was getting further away from her while her laptop screen continued to get smaller.  She started to see the room she sat in as a person watching this scenario from somewhere else, and as long as she wasn’t directly connected to it, she could continue to disassociate with it. Instead, she could only sit there, with her mouth open, staring blankly at this distant laptop screen, unable to process what the fuck she just saw.  

There were no words. No thoughts.  There was nothing.  Only the feeling of adrenaline coursing through her veins and the sound of her heart breaking in a million pieces, as 13 seconds altered the course of her world.  

Ten minutes had to have passed before Nia clicked the replay button on the YouTube video to watch the clip for the fourth time.  She was in a better place now.  She had gotten up, got a drink of water. Practiced a bunch of things she could do in 13 seconds.  She had refocused.  She could watch it now and deal with it with a clear head. She wasn’t sure how many times she had watched it before – it hadn’t registered. She was still in shock from that initial viewing. But, she needed to watch it again because she had to dissect it.  

Placing her chin in her hand, she didn’t give a fuck if she was transferring her Mahogany Shape Tape foundation and Cocoa Bean Black Radiance pressed powder on her palm.  Fuck the papers that were going to be stained from the makeup transfer.  That was a gripe for another day - black women that wore makeup always had issues with the transfer.  It was the plight of the beauty revolution.  She’d fight that battle another day.  Right now, there more important things to deal with. 

Where the hell were her earphones?  She needed to have the audio go directly into her ears.  There was no time to have the sound filter throughout the loft’s office and possibly get distorted. She needed every word to go directly from the computer, in her ear, and into her brain for immediate translation. Maybe she missed something. Maybe she misinterpreted it. Yea…that was it.  This was on her. It had to be, right?

Plugging in her Beats headphones, she placed them on her ears and turned up the volume on her laptop.  She took in a deep shaky breath and hit the replay button for the fourth time. 

Nope, she hadn’t imagined it.  It was still the same.  He was still having fun, hanging out with those same stupid fucking people.  He was still talking in that same drunken tone.  He still thought everything was so fucking funny and laughed at every fucking thing.  

Why did he do that laugh?  It was laugh he used when he was really tickled.  The one that he accompanied by clapping his hands because he was genuinely amused. It was that laugh that she loved the most.  It was that laugh that made her laugh too, usually.  It was that laugh that brought tears to her eyes.  

What the fuck was he thinking? When was he going to learn? There were so many of these kinds of questions she wanted to ask, but did it matter? Did he ever really have to answer them?  It was always going to be different for him for so many reasons. The question was, did she want to stick it out and deal with it?  

This wasn’t the first time he had done something so irresponsible, so insensitive. She knew it wouldn’t be his last.  The problem was, he never seemed to understand why it was a problem.  Quite frankly, she tired of trying to be his teacher.

Just as she sat the headphones back on the desk, she heard the key in the front door lock.  She didn’t want to deal with him right now. She needed more time to digest everything before she talked to him, otherwise, this wasn’t going to be a productive conversation. 

Nia was not the type of person that liked to argue, let alone, have a conversation when she was angry.  Her words were always carefully weighed, and she very rarely said anything out of anger. Hurting someone’s feelings, being misunderstood, and saying something that she would later regret were things that she tried to avoid.  It wasn’t that she was non-confrontational, she was just reserved, that way.  She didn’t grow up in a house where people yelled or used words to hurt each other.  She didn’t believe in doing that, and she wasn’t going to bring that into her relationship, no matter how passionate Alex could get about a situation.  But the way she was feeling right now, all bets were off.  

“Hallo, Vlad.  Have you been a good boy?” She heard his voice from the hallway rise an entire octave as he addressed their 10-month-old Siberian husky.  She could tell by the way Vlad whined and his paws scratched against the hardwood floors that he was jumping on up Alex.  All of that money they were spending on dog training and Alex was still letting Vlad jump on him. Nia shook her head in irritation.  “I missed you, too, boy.  Where’s Mama, huh?” 

Nia remained frozen to the spot.  She did manage to reach for her vape, on her desk, and noticed how the muscles in her neck and shoulders shook with tension.  Taking a few deep breaths, she tried to unclench her jaw.  She just needed a few more minutes to herself.  If he could just go upstairs, or in another room and leave her alone, she would be able to talk to him about this later. But, knowing him, that wouldn’t happen. 

He would keep pushing and pushing until he found out what was wrong with her and before she knew it they would be in a fight.  A fight that she would be actively participating in.  

“Babe?” He called out, making his way across their loft.  His voice getting closer to her office door. “Hey, babe,” he awkwardly raised his hand in greeting, to accompany his words, followed by his thousand-watt smile. “I got us cheesecake from a new bakery.  Casper speaks highly of them.”

Nia looked at her boyfriend and she could feel the hot sting of tears forming at the back of her eyes. Immediately, she dropped her gaze, not wanting to address him or the situation at the moment.  She managed to nod slowly as she continued to work her now jagged cuticle.

To the rest of the world, Alex Høgh Andersen was the model, actor, and photographer that walked on water, ate bullets, and shit ice cream.  He was the sexy heartthrob that had over a million Instagram followers.  The guy that couldn’t post a picture of taking out the trash without it being sent over 5 continents and 35 countries in a matter of minutes.  He had over 2,000 fan sites, and countless fan fictions written about him…fans adored him the world over and he was only 25. He was fucking perfect.  

To Nia, he was just her Alex.  Her clumsy, silly boyfriend, who never put his clothes in the hamper and always left the toilet seat up.  He was the guy that loved to cook but never cleaned the dishes.  He was the one that was always singing or beat-boxing or banging on something trying to make music.  He was always tried to make people laugh.  He was loud, goofy, and drank too much. He smelled awful after a workout and had the messiest bed head when he let his hair grow.  He sometimes smacked when he chewed and always talked with his mouth full.  He was a clown, but he meant well.  He was sweet, and thoughtful and always treated her like she was the most important woman in the world.  

Nia never had one reason not to trust him...until now.

“Baby,” he took in the expression on her face and rounded the glass desk to where she was sitting.  Kneeling in front of her seat, he turned her swivel chair to face him and took her hands in his, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She raised her eyes wide and looked at a place on the bookshelf, right over his left ear. Refusing to look into those beautiful blue eyes of his and lose her train of thought.  She felt the sweat start at her top lip, something that always happened right before she was about to cry, but she fought the urge.  

“Alex,” she tried to keep her voice steady, but she was pumped full of adrenaline and emotion so it shook involuntarily, “what the fuck?” She pulled her hand from him and turned her laptop toward him.  Hitting the play button on the YouTube video again, she played the 13-second clip for him.  

Alex watched himself, drunk as hell, outside of a night club in Ireland with friends.  He asked his friend to do part of a skit from one of his favorite comedians.  He knew exactly what was on this clip.  He’d seen it, and still thought it was funny. “What’s wrong?”

Nia didn’t say anything, she just let the clip play.  Alex’s friend, Danny, this clout chasing, promoter fuck stood in the shot with him.  Out of Alex’s mouth came the line from Kevin Hart’s Seriously Funny Comedy routine, “Go night, night, nigga?”

He had said it low as if he was talking to Danny, asking him to perform the line from the stand-up.  So what does the little hanger on do?  Danny, who is black, does a really bad, really loud Kevin Hart impression for Alex and the camera, “Go night, night, Nigga!”  

Alex then comes back in the scene and repeats it and they all laugh because it’s so damn funny.  Alex disappears from the screen because he’s laughing so hard, but Danny is still there, shit-talking about having a big dick.  When Alex returns, the two of them end the video with a rousing chorus of “Alright, alright, alright…”  

She didn’t say anything to him, she just looked.  She searched his face for some sort of understanding, some kind of recognition. Something.  But when he turned back to face her and all she saw was confusion she felt her shoulders drop and the first fat tear roll down her face. “Wow.”

“Honey,” he lifted a brow, not quite sure what his crime was.  He knew she didn’t like Danny, but he hadn’t even seen him since he was in Ireland last.  It had to have been a few months. “This was months ago,” he reassured her, with his Danish accent punctuating his English words, “I know you think I drink too much and you don’t like to see me drunk.  It’s no good when it goes viral.  But, we were just fooling around.  It’s nothing to cry about.”  He cupped her cheek in his hand, hand brushed away her tear with his thumb.  His blue eyes moved swiftly between her brown orbs.  “Where did you even find this?”

“Your fucking manager sent it to me, Alex.  They want me to fix this shit.  I’m supposed to make all of this go away.  Me...your fucking black girlfriend - I have to make this racist bullshit you pulled go away.”  She should smack him.  She should.  It would be justified, right? “How in the fuck am I supposed to do that when you think being drunk was the fucking problem with this video?”    

“I’m not a racist,” he said with genuine shock, “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. You never do.” She got up from her chair, suddenly needing to distance herself from him.  “Why do I always have to be the one to educate you?  You are a grown man.  I shouldn’t have to explain this shit!  You DON’T get to say that word, Alex.  EVER.” She pointed a well-manicured finger in his direction, “It’s hurtful.  It’s hateful.  It’s ignorant.  And coming from YOU, it’s fucking devastating.” 

He was confused. What was she so upset about?  What exactly had he done wrong?  Turning around in his place, he slowly stood up and leaned against the desk.  Legs outstretched, arms folded across his chest in a defensive position he could tell that his girlfriend of three years was upset. Not just the regular run of the mill upset, either.  Something he had done had really bothered her.  

“Nia,” he breathed her name with a smirk on his face, “I think you’re making way bigger a deal of this than it is.  Danny was there, he didn’t care.  If I had said something bad, he would have told me.”  He pleaded with his face for her to trust him on this, it was all a misunderstanding.  “We were just joking. Besides, I didn’t say the bad word – the one with the other ending.  I changed it. We were just doing the part from the Kevin Hart comedy.” 

“Alex,” she straightened her posture and spoke very clearly so that he could understand her.  There was something in the way that he was dismissing what she had said to him that was really rubbing her the wrong fucking way, “You are not Kevin Hart.”  She did not crack a smile when he did.  She kept her face stoic and refused to drop his gaze.  “You are not black.  YOU don’t get to use that word, or any variation, thereof.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex relaxed his posture and lifted his face toward the ceiling. Is this what he came home for?  He could have still been hanging out with his friends for all this.  At least they wanted to have fun tonight.  It was a Friday for crying out loud, was this how they were going to start their weekend?  It was the first one in months that neither of them had to work.  They had been planning this weekend for forever, it seemed. They were supposed to be Netflix & chilling, drinking wine, having breakfast in bed…nowhere in their itinerary were they supposed to be fighting over a stupid joke.  

Alex’s hand covered most of his face, as he rubbed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts. He didn’t want to argue.  He wanted to change out of his hoodie and jeans, and get into some comfortable sweats.  He wanted to feed Vlad and cook dinner with her.  He wanted to eat in front of the TV while they caught up on this season of How to Get Away with Murder, which they promised each other not to watch until they were together.  “Jesus, Nia, why do you always blow things out of proportion?”

“Why do I.. I’m sorry?  Do I always blow things out of proportion?  Really?” She looked around the room as if he were talking to someone else, “Are you fucking shitting me, right now? Blowing shit out of proportion?  Why do you always��have to be such an insensitive prick?”  She watched as he threw up his hands and walked out of the room mumbling under his breath.  “Yeah, say that shit in English, Alex, since you have such a grasp of the fucking language.” 

God, she was doing it.  She was doing everything that she never wanted to do when she argued.  She was speaking out of anger.  She losing the point.  She didn’t have one anymore, she was just mad. “Really…I don’t know who the fuck you think you playing with, but I am not the one.”  

Taking off his jacket and throwing it on the couch, Alex turned around to face his girlfriend.  He paid particular attention to the way her chest rose and fell when she was heated like this. He had always thought she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, but now her anger didn’t match her beauty. “I don’t know what your problem is, Nia, or what you think I did, but I told you, it was a joke.  All of this, it’s not fair to take it out on me.  You owe me an apology for starting on me for no reason when I just walked in the house.”  

He flopped down on the couch and leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose.  He could feel a headache beginning right between his eyes and he knew it was from tension. 

“What part of this don’t you understand?  You offended me. You offended black and brown people all over the fucking world, thanks to YouTube.  I don’t have to apologize for shit.  You and your little fucking troll friend need to be apologizing!” She started walking around in a circle, she felt just that crazy at the moment. 

Nia looked over at the corner to Vlad.  His blue eye and brown eye lowered to the floor in sadness, as his parent argued. Her heart broke for their baby, but it couldn’t be helped. “Obviously your manager thinks this is a big fucking deal if they sent this shit to be fixed.  Alex, you can’t go around offending people.  You are in the public eye, whether you want to be or not. You have fans that are from every walk of life - do you know how many of them you just insulted? You need to be more responsible for your actions and the shit that comes out of your mouth.”  

“Nia, I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.  I hear that word a hundred times a day. It’s not a problem.  It’s in every song. It’s on American TV…Danny and your brother-in-law call me that all the time.  I’m not a racist.  I’m in love with a black woman.”  He found himself raising his voice because no matter what he was saying, she didn’t seem like she was understanding, “One time,” he held his finger up to emphasize his point, “I do a part from a comedy that I like, with my black friend, and you lose your damn mind.”  

“What the fuck, yo?” Was she going crazy? She tried to inhale clean air, and exhale the poison before she spoke, however, it wasn’t helping.  All she could do was rub her temples. “Danish, American...it doesn’t fucking matter does it?”

“What doesn’t?”   

“Your privilege?” She rubbed her temples slowly and tried to crack her neck. “I’m gonna say this real slow so you can translate it into whatever the fuck language you need to understand it.  I don’t care how much trap music you listen to. You don’t get to say that word. I don’t care if you know the words to every Kendrick Lamar song.  You don’t get to say that word.  I don’t care how many black friends you have. You don’t say that word.  I don’t care what my brother-in-law calls you, or me, or the man in the moon.  You don’t say that word.”  

She got closer to the couch and bend down so that he could hear her.  Barely opening her teeth to speak, she made her point crystal clear, “And I certainly don’t care if you are fucking me or a 100 other black girls, it doesn’t make you black.  You still don’t get to say that word!”

“Oh my God, Nia! It’s a fucking word.”

Was she talking to herself?  Was he that clueless?  Where there no words in Danish that meant anything like it?  They had racism all over the world, surely there was a word in his language that used to oppress another culture to the effect that that word had been used to tear down black people, but black Americans especially.  Nia didn’t know what it meant to other black people, she could only tell him what it meant to her.  

“Do you know what’s like to have no identity, Alex?  Do you know what it’s like to still be referred to as the term they used when they listed you in catalogs to be bought and sold like an animal?  It was no different than saying the word ‘cow’ – it was a word to describe cattle. That’s what an entire country thought of people that look like me.  For no other reason than the color of my skin.”  She couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in her eyes.  She was so beyond mad that her voice was eerily quiet.  “Those people didn’t do anything to deserve it.  They were just born next to the equator.” She shrugged her shoulders in defeat.

“That word stripped men of their role in the family and made some impotent and others were turned into bucks that were only good for breeding…it broke them. It made women broodmares, whose job was to have babies to keep plantations going.  Families were sold apart no different than how Vlad was taken from his mother because he’s a dog.” She pointed to their puppy hoping that he would understand, “They thought it was okay to do that to my ancestors because of that word. Alex, I don’t care how much you hear that word. When you say it, that’s what it feels like to me. That I don’t exist.  That Nia doesn’t exist. That I’m no different than Vlad. But, here’s the rub - in all the time we’ve had him I have never once heard you refer to him as a dog.  But now you used the word nigga, and you think it’s funny.  So, I have to wonder now, how do you describe me?”

He was dumbstruck. 

He didn’t mean any of that when he said it.  It was a joke.  It was an homage to Kevin Hart.  It was fucking funny.  He understood that she was hurt, but he didn’t quite get why she was hurting. “I see that this hurt you. I’m sorry about that.  It was not my intention.”  He reached out to touch her and retrieved his hand when she pulled away, “If it was wrong, why didn’t Danny correct me?”

“That little fucker?” God, she hated him.  “Because he set your ass up and you’re too fucking stupid to know it.”  She didn’t mean that.  She didn’t want to hurt him just because he had hurt her.  But she was tired of telling him the same thing over and over again. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that little bastard is not your friend?  Do you remember how we met?  The drunken video he posted of you doing the Haka dance that ended up all over the internet? Do you remember how I had to spin that shit to save your career?”  She rolled her eyes and stood up from the couch. “Whenever you pop a bottle, that little clout chaser is always right there with a fucking camera.”  

“He’s not like that, he’s my friend.”

“He set your ass up! It’s a game, Alex!  Black guys play it all the time.  See if you can make your white friend say the word. Only, I’m surprised he didn’t punch you in the mouth afterward.  Cause that’s what they’d’ve done in the States.  But maybe things worked differently in Ireland.”  

“Whatever,” Letting out a frustrated sigh, Alex resigned.  

“Right. Whatever.” Walking back into her office, she slammed the lid closed on her laptop before throwing it and a few files into her work bag. “Un-fuckin-believable.”  She left out of the office and sat her bag on the floor by the door before she walked across the hardwood floors towards the stairs. “Move, Vlad,” she said lovingly rubbing her big four-legged baby on the head.  

Vlad made no intention of moving as if he was purposely trying to stop her from ascending the stairs.  Instead, the dog looked at her, then back at Alex, before turning his gaze back at her. “Vladimir, honey, I need you to move.” She watched as her 50-pound defiant child laid on the bottom step and put his brown and white head on his paws. “Fine,” she said, skipping a step to climb over him and made her way up the rest of the stairs, rolling her eyes when the dog followed behind her.

Alex followed behind them and stood in the doorway of their bedroom watching as grabbed a handful of items; a t-shirt, toothbrush, and hair scarf. This entire argument had been blown way out of proportion. Now she was leaving?  “Baby, where you going?”

“Away from you.”

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