#and i didn’t really notice it but i’ve lost a lot of creative drive (i just chalked it up to being busy)

[thebeautifulfantastic]

my ninth-grade research paper on the science of stress, depression, and anxiety is really coming back to kick me in the butt right now

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Come Down In Time

From Control - Full Story in Progress on AO3!

Ghost x Shadow!Reader There's something about you that Ghost just can't seem to figure out, and it's driving him crazy. Or basically, Ghost has a crush and he doesn't know what to do about it, so he tries to fight his feelings.

TW - Non-graphic mentions of throwing up (nothing crazy) Tags: Slow burn, Angst, Touch-starved!Ghost, Soft!reader, Fluff, Teasing, Flirting, Innocent intimacy, sweet moments, kinda sad Ghost Word Count: 5.6k

Masterlist

Can be read like a one-shot

Author's Note: I feel like if Ghost started to like someone, he wouldn't know what to do about it. This is from his POV. I hope it's not too cringe. Sorry it's longer and slow~ (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ )

...

Part III - Come Down In Time

You talk a lot. 

The chatty ones usually got on Ghost's nerves, as it was mostly empty bluster and nonsense. Especially in regards to him. The man can only hear the same kinds of questions for so long.

People always want to know the most surface level things about him -- why he wears his masks, why he’s so quiet, what crawled up his ass and died? Ghost used to have a few creative responses for that, but after a while he’s grown less inspired to do so. 

Only you never asked the normal questions he was used to hearing about. Not really. Those thoughts never seemed to occur to you. You didn’t seem to care. 

Your questions were little ones. Ones he wasn’t used to thinking about, let alone sharing. They reminded him of the kinds of things a civilian would ask. Innocent. Not like how the other soldiers spoke at all.

And when you speak to him, you weren’t talking to his rank or reputation; you don't let that front of his distract you. You speak directly to him. The man behind his mask. A shadow of himself that you act as though you see clear as day.

And it didn’t seem to matter how many questions he dodged, or how blunt and aloof he behaved. You just continued to be there, asking away. Seemingly for no reason. Though Ghost was not naïve nor fool enough to believe this could just be a whim for you. He’s not an idiot, and neither are you.

You pick your words carefully. It might take you a second or two to come up with a response -- whenever it isn’t just on the fly -- but your words are not often spoken without some thought to them. Even your most honest moments only seem to be a small piece to an otherwise elaborate puzzle.

It unnerved Ghost the way he caught himself picking you apart. How he had begun to do so without even noticing. You and Soap both could talk a dog off a meat truck if given the opportunity, he’s come to learn. It should annoy him how casual you two were with him. It should.

It’s only made Ghost realize how long it’s been since there’ve been people around to feel this way about.

There was a passing thought he had, as he watched you in the passenger’s seat of the car. Some deep seeded memory which bubbled in his mind. Old and covered in dust. It’s there only for a brief second, but just long enough to nag at the man for the rest of the drive back to the barracks.

If only he could put his finger on it.

“I’ve got another!” 

You clap your hands in excitement, as a sloppy smile grows on your face. You must’ve had the entire bar after he’d stepped out for a smoke, judging from how drunk you still were. Ghost hadn’t even been that long; he thought so at least. 

Despite your enthusiasm to share another joke, for some odd reason you don’t speak until he gives you a response. Ghost almost didn’t, had he not noticed after glancing over. The way you were just waiting there like some lost, playful puppy had him reeling a bit. You even batted your eyelashes at him. 

You were just the strangest thing. 

“Well, don't get shy now,” he says.

“Why don’t dinosaurs talk?”

“Why?”

“Because they’re dead.” You laugh at your own joke. 

Seems you’re a dork as well.

Your laughter had an enticing pull to it though. Like a warm, open door, it beckons a look-see. 

Ghost wouldn’t admit it -- he hardly believes it himself -- but he likes the way your voice sounds. Don't ask him why though; he's been racking over that question all evening. Your voice just seems to draw him in rather subliminally, as though you were slowly putting a spell on him. 

You weren’t afraid to laugh or talk when no one asked, seemingly living life by the breeze. Only when he looked in your eyes, Ghost saw something else in them, behind the optimism and confidence. Something familiar. And it absolutely drives the man mad trying to figure out what that look could be.

You drum your hands on your lap bashfully, looking out your window again. "Not my best joke."

“We can’t both be funny,” he says.

“Gee thanks.”

The car falls into a sudden silence after your comment. Ghost finds a place in it, spacing out with his driving. Eventually he goes into auto-pilot, the passing of each streetlight blending with the next. 

You didn’t look like you wanted to cry anymore, which must be a good sign. Ghost watched you fight to hide it since you left the bar; a real battle with yourself from the looks of it. He’s not sure what brought these tears out, but he had a few ideas. If you wouldn’t mention it though, then he wouldn’t either. 

He never did enjoy watching others cry, especially those who don't deserve to. He can't help but feel a little uncomfortable around it too, never being quite good in these kinds of situations. But somehow, he's managed to help you, if not serve as a viable distraction. 

You awkwardly hum to yourself, shuffling in your seat a bit. The silence must bother you from how you squirm about and play with strands of your hair. Modestly. Ghost couldn't quite understand what it was that made you so awkward around him.

At first, he assumed you were just intimidated by his appearance, like most are. His looks alone have done enough wonders keeping the riffraff away thus far. Yet here you sit beside him. You’ve sat beside him all night. Looking at him as openly as any other man.

When Ghost saw you didn't care about his looks, he then thought it was his attitude which made you so strange with him. But you come back around even then, with that same little smile.

You just seemed to be OK with him.

It’s difficult for Ghost to pinpoint what it was about you which turned his attention so easily. He wouldn’t normally give anyone a second thought outside of their working relationship. He saw no need to. It’s not like people didn’t come and go in his life, enough to where it’s gotten easy to not bother and keep everything at proper distance. 

Yet with you around, Ghost felt different. He almost couldn’t help himself.

The fact that you even convinced him to come out tonight was something to be noted. It had just been that look on your face when you offered to drive him. All rain-soaked and chattery teeth, trying to keep up some front that you could endure the wet, cold conditions with him. You stuck around to the bitter end of it, like you really wanted him to be there tonight.

You had looked so excited when he finally agreed to, too.

“I don’t know how you can drive around with no music on,” you suddenly comment. 

Ghost watches you lean over and turn the radio up, as some commercial sounding pop music begins to play. You frown in a similar fashion to how he felt hearing it be turned on. Your fingers then flip through the stations daintily, twisting and pressing all sorts of knobs and buttons like a sound coordinator. A playful smile grows suddenly, as your eyes search his again.

“Any preferences?”

Clever girl. Ghost hasn’t forgotten how much you’ve seemed interested in knowing what he likes to listen to. At this point, he figured he’d keep the game going. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Damn,” you pout. “I thought that would work.”

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

What was it this reminds him of? Was this a memory? An old feeling? It stirs a storm in Ghost, something fierce. Like a song in the back of his mind he couldn’t remember the lyrics to. There’s a melody there, but it's all mixed up and far away. It grates at him.

Don't get used to this, he tells himself. Don't start now.

Ghost watches ahead, eyeing every pedestrian and car that passes by his headlights. Dissecting his own thoughts. Trying to get this damn nagging feeling to either show itself or bugger off. When he tries to think more deeply of it, somehow his mind always manages to come wandering back to you.

Suddenly, he has a clear picture in his mind of you again. Just as you are, just as he’s seen you thus far. Canary: The way your eyes bounce about, how your lips move when you talk or smile, the small cut above your brow from your last mission, that just doesn't seem to concern you in the slightest. 

Every hour he'd find something new to see, piecing in this puzzle of you in his head.

You change the station to something softer -- some acoustic song that blends nicely with the rest of the noise around him. Ghost finds it easier to concentrate. When he looks over at you, you’ve settled a bit, perhaps a little more nauseous in the face, but settled. Seems the music was all you needed.

You sing beneath your breath to the song on the radio. You're drunk enough to do it, but not so much to do so loudly, as you try and blend in with the singer’s voice, almost to hide it from him. Ghost picks up on your tune however. Your voice is distinctive.

He quietly listens to you sing for the rest of the drive home. 

He almost forgets the radio is even on.

...

Ghost parks the car in the barrack parking lot. Without much thought, he steps out and makes his way around to open the door for you. By the time he’s done all of this, you haven’t even unbuckled your seatbelt yet. This makes him rather impatiently lean over and unbuckle it for you.

As he leans in to do so, he feels the warmth radiating from your body, along with your eyes, which sit on him like the beating sun. Your breath catches in your throat, as you move your arms out of the way so he can help you.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” you joke.

Ghost doesn’t reply (though he rolls his eyes), merely watching as you swayed in your feet once you stepped out, seconds away from wobbling over drunkenly. He takes hold of your arm before you can tip over however. You then stubbornly -- and feebly -- shake him off you, straightening yourself up.

“I got this,” you casually assure him.

“We’ll see.”

You two walk back to the barracks together, no words to say. Only for a moment. 

“Mmm,” you begin to hum beside him.

“What?”

“The moon’s out,” you say.

Ghost looks up above himself. Indeed, the moon is out. You really are just some stray puppy he’s accidentally picked up, aren’t you? 

Feels like it’s been raining all night before now; only a few hours ago was he swimming in a pool of rain trying to fix his damn truck. He’d probably just be up in his room right about now if you hadn’t convinced him to come out tonight.

Now the moon hangs above your heads, as full and far away as the night before, the stars peeking out between the dark clouds that were just beginning to break apart. When his eyes drop back down to you however, he almost makes a double take. 

The view above only seems to pale in comparison.

Your head is cocked back, observing the sky above you with a drunken, childlike wonder. Your cheeks and nose are flushed from the cold, and the moon truly seems to fascinate you. You smile to yourself, big eyes skimming the clouds. Moonlight shines off your skin like a soft, luminescent glow; making you appear almost otherworldly. It’s enough to make a man lose track of his own thoughts. 

That distant, unfamiliar feeling nagged at him some more.

“Observant as always, Canary.” 

Ghost retook your arm when he saw you slip up one of the steps to the barracks entrance. You grab hold of him instinctively, your slender fingers gripping to the fabric of his hoodie. Your hands can barely fit around his bicep, your grip a lot more secure and gentle than he would have expected. It almost makes him not mind that you’re holding onto him so closely.

He hesitates to remove his hand from your arm once you've reached the top of the steps, debating whether or not you’ll need the help. You make the decision for Ghost, gently prying yourself from his grip.

“It’s Y/N,” you say. “Call me Y/N.”

You look up at Ghost, who looks down at you, standing only about a foot away. He smells your perfume, even in the cold air, watching your breath fog above you towards the night sky. It makes the man tense up.

Y/N . He plays it back in his mind. Fitting.

“I’ll think about it.”

The place is quiet; by now you’re sure it’s nearly one in the morning. The soldier they had on CQ was passed out in his chair, though he would not have cared that you two were arriving so late regardless. You managed to make it to your door without needing any more help from Ghost however. Only just.

You clumsily dig into your pocket for your keys, before they jump from your fingers and clatter onto the floor. You then start to bend over to retrieve them, only to overestimate your stability and wobble forward. Ghost catches your arm just in time, hoisting you back up to your feet, as he picks your keys up for you.

The whole motion of this makes you suddenly nauseous, your stomach stirring and slurring and threatening to bubble in your throat at any moment. You begin to taste that acidic taste in your mouth, as you're now focusing on swallowing it down.

“Which key?” Ghost asks. You turn to him and point to a golden, round key. He unceremoniously unlocks and opens the door for you, though he doesn’t go away just yet. “You straight from here?”

“Yeah, yeah…” You begin to nod, but suddenly your legs start to buckle. You make a worried expression like you were about to be sick. Without saying anything, Ghost invites himself inside and ushers you to the bathroom. He swiftly lowers you to your toilet, lifting the seat for you as he seats himself at the edge of the tub beside you.

You didn’t need much else of an excuse to start letting out everything you’d had to drink tonight. You hug the toilet bowl in your arms, letting the sound of your own retching echo in your ears as you groan after every outburst.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost comments. He instinctively pats your back, roughly, trying to help you out. “Have a few less in the future next time, yeah?”

You respond with a resounding groan, lifting a hand to give him a thumbs up, before letting more of yourself go. He’s sure you’ll feel less drunk once you’re done. It should help.

Ghost stops patting your back at some point, though his hand lingers. Unconsciously. When he finally notices the way the warmth of your back makes his hand tingle, he removes it, resting them back in his lap and looking off into the room.

This bathroom is dark, as the whites of the walls made the room feel cold. There comes this moment after midnight where the silence surrounding you feels just a little more trance-like, as though your consciousness teetered between thoughts and reality. Ghost experienced this the longer he sat by you.

He’s been here before, hasn’t he? Back home, long ago. With someone else. Back before… 

Old names with dead faces, long buried someplace deep in him slowly began to surface. Faces he’d rather not think of.

Is that the feeling which nags at him? 

What was it about you which felt so… forgotten…

…And why did it unsettled him so much?

Ghost stands up from the tub. He’s let this go on long enough.

“I should go.”

You look up at him from the toilet bowl. Your eyes are more sullen now. “Oh,” you say it with such disappointment, before clearing your throat and looking away. “OK. I understand. I uh… I’m sorry for tonight…”

“Enough already,” he says. “Weren’t like you forced me to be here.”

“True,” you stand yourself up from off the floor. “Less I forget I had to bribe you earlier to even come out at all…”

"Exactly."

You quickly make your way over to the sink to make use of your toothbrush. As you did so, Ghost remained in the bathroom with you, looming a few feet away.

He hasn’t gotten used to looking down to see you yet. He keeps forgetting how tiny you are. At least compared to himself.

Your appearance and physique alone were rather opposite to what he was used to. Had you two not worked together he would never have thought you were a soldier, let alone a mercenary. He supposes not everyone has that look. You certainly didn’t need it to be here either.

From where Ghost stands behind you, watching you brush your teeth, he sees the way your spine curves. How your legs extend to the floor, as well as their shape. You give your back to him rather vulnerably. What has he done to garner such trust?

When you finish, you look up to see Ghost still lingering by. Despite stating he’d be leaving, he hasn’t gotten around to it yet. 

You grow quiet, trying to make sense of him through his mask again. Searching endlessly. Your expression drops, and your eyes glint with melancholy. As though you’d just made a foul discovery in him. 

Ghost hides it, but it catches him off guard to see the shift in your demeanor. Because that’s a look he’s more familiar with. Did you finally see something you didn’t like in him? Have you finally come to your senses?

And why did he suddenly care to know?

Ghost knows the smart thing to do would be to leave it. But that other part of himself, the part which nags at him even now, had a different idea. One which felt more natural to do.

“Have I got somethin’ on my face?” A joke.

It’s the sound your voice makes when you giggle which has him feeling like a fool. It shouldn’t have moved him like it did.

“No,” you say. “Just taking in the view.”

“Must be a nice one.”

“It is."

Ghost nearly chuckles.

You're a flirt. He’s met his fair share before, but none quite as consistent as you. You've casually flirted with him since you two met, as you have with everyone he’s seen thus far; meaning he’s no one special. Though you’re a natural at making your words feel good. 

“You play too much, Canary,” warned Ghost.

“I thought I told you to call me Y/N,” you tease back. Though your voice is still a little slurred and playful, you're being serious. “Have you forgotten already?”

“No,” he says. “I haven’t forgotten.”

The room grows still, and for a moment it feels as though time no longer exists -- the two of you stuck in some midnight plane of existence. 

You observe him as intensely as he does you. The more you two stare, the more he's about to pick a new detail out from you to think about. Another qualm.

You have kind eyes.

When Ghost met you, that’s the first thing that caught his attention. How your eyes are so full of life and wonder. Gentle. Inviting. Human. And completely wrapped up in him. 

You want to see him. You want to know him. Your kindness is like a hidden syringe, embedded in his veins somewhere before now, slowly injecting him. You pull the feelings from his chasm of a mind so easily. 

Your kindness infuriates him. 

Something else nags stills.

Ghost eyes shift to the mirror behind you. He sees a giant shadow. Himself. He could take one step closer to you and watch that “kindness” you've built for him crumble like the weak foundation it was based on. Witness all your hard work fall to ruin. Just as he’s willfully done before to countless others. 

Since when has he been deserving of such kindness anyway? Who gave you that notion? What a cruelty it was, how easy it creeps up on him so uninvitedly. If only you knew what you toyed with. You wouldn’t bother with the likes of him if you did, he’s decided.

If only you truly saw.

“Are you tired, lieutenant?"

Ghost pauses. Your big eyes gaze up at him, genuinely curious to hear his answer. Had you not said another word, he may have stood there all night. 

At first his mind hears the word "tired" and takes it personally. Yes he was tired. He’s been tired his whole fucking life. But then he realized what you meant by tired, and quickly settled down.

"Not necessarily," he says. Truth be told, he felt wide awake. He knows he probably wouldn’t have gotten any sleep tonight as it was. The nightmares have gotten bad again, worse than normal lately, though he hasn’t shared that with anyone. The last thing he wants is another evaluation. "Why?"

You grow shy suddenly. Words hang in your mouth but you hesitate to let them out. And Ghost holds his breath, waiting to hear you speak.

"Do you have to go so soon?" 

He was afraid of this happening. Ghost had an inkling that you would ask him to stay. Would he have the strength to tell you no? He needed to. He shouldn’t even be thinking in any other way to begin with.

“It’s for the best,” he says robotically.

“Why?”

Bloody hell. “It just is,” he says, a little more irritated now. “Why ask?”

“I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Don't do this. Ghost can’t help but cross his arms, hugging them to his chest as he huffed to himself. "Weren’t you havin' a shit night a second ago?"

"I'm not anymore."

"I won’t make it much better."

You laugh now. "I'd beg to differ."

You just don't know when to quit, do you? You're so careless with how you speak to Ghost, not taking a moment to think of how much your words coaxed something dark in him. Something buried. It screams for you to leave it.

Ghost never lets off that your words have any effect on him. He’s mastered his poker face. The mask helps. “You give me too much credit.”

“You say that like you don't deserve it.”

“I don't," he takes a step closer to you now, towering over you. Subtly warning you.  "Don’t act as though you know me. I already told you, you don't.”

He's right. You don't know him. No one knows him, or the hardships he's had to face, the people he's failed and lost… all the sacrifices he's had to make of himself just to survive. You only know a shell of himself. A mask.

The only ones who knew Ghost are dead ones; he didn't need more faces to join that crowd. He didn't need more fuel for the fire.

But you’re so Goddamn stubborn. You remain leaning against the sink, your gaze unwavering from his, arms crossed. Why do you look at him with such ease, even now?

“I don’t care,” you say. 

You push yourself from the sink, approaching him closer, until you're only about a foot away again. Ghost doesn’t flinch. He makes no movement at all, merely keeping you in his sights. The air in the room starts to grow heavier.

Somehow you still smell of perfume and cold rain. It slowly takes over his senses, like some sort of pheromone.

“You should care,” he says.

“I wish I could know you more,” you continue, your smile only growing brighter. You’ve truly convinced yourself now. "You're quite the character."

Ghost finally breaks his gaze from you, looking off to the side. “There’s nothin’ about me worth knowin’.”

“That’s simply not true,” you tell him. “I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface.”

You don’t know what you’re talking about, Ghost tells himself. You think you do, but you don’t.

Whatever it was you were trying to do -- this getting to know him, trying to read him, or bond with him -- it needed to stop. It wasn’t necessary, and it wouldn’t do either of you any favors in the future going down this path.

He’s not just some book you can read through and understand, even if you two had a sit down and went through it word by word. Page by page. Trauma by trauma. What you see of him is some idea you’ve created, a bubble needing to be burst.

He begins again. Don't get comfortable.

“And what is it you know?” he challenges you harshly.

To his shock and dismay, you bring your hand up and begin going over a list with him.

“I know you care a lot more than you let on," you say. "I also know you’re funny. You’re good at what you do, and I know that you’re smart.”

You pause and start to think more about the man in front of you, gathering up everything you’ve managed to put together in such a short amount of time. In this silence, Ghost longs for you to stop.

End this while it was fun. 

You then say, “I know that you were my favorite part about tonight.”

The man stands there, processing all your words. Is that what you think of him? “You’re still drunk.”

"You’re avoiding my eyes,” you taunt.

He's had enough of this.

As if to protest your words, Ghost rips his gaze back to you, and you see a fire burn in his dark eyes, piercing straight through you. They tell you to get back. If he could scare you away with one look, he’d let it be and forget this exchange ever happened. 

But you’ve seen all sorts of eyes in your lifetime, and Ghost’s did anything but scare you.

You’re unmoved by his cold gaze. Unflinching as you had been when he’d first met you. Trying to find some home for him in your mind even now. It makes Ghost frown beneath his mask.

But even now, you still find some reason to smile at him. Ghost sees himself wrapped in your irises, absorbed by his presence, happy to have his eye again. "That's better."

Ghost's cold gaze wavers. He doesn't know what to say.

You stand so close to him now, if either of you extended your arms you could brush one another. There’s nothing he'd want more than to see how you might feel in his arms. How easily he could hold you. Touch you. He feels a few more starved heartbeats away from acting out on these impulses.

Ghost can only wonder what runs through your mind right now.

That nagging feeling just won’t go away.

Would he have to beg you to leave this where it is?

"I can't stay,” Ghost says again, quieter this time, his voice so low it sings in this empty room.

You hear Ghost's words, and really take in the emotions in his eyes this time. Your expression softens and you give the man a reassuring smile. You push no further. 

Your acceptance shames him.

You say to him, "OK."

Somehow it doesn’t make him feel any better.

Ghost walks you out of your bathroom, shutting the lights off and closing the door for you, as the man watches you make your way over to the front entrance. The fairy lights you have decorating your window make the lighting a deep shade of purple, only offset by the streetlights that peaked from your curtains. It makes your room feel like a figment of his imagination at first.

Ghost pauses at your door, turning to face you a final time. You keep some distance from him.

“Hey um… before you go.” You take another step closer; each time you’ve stood by him you’ve found some way to be nearer. “I just wanted to say thank you. You didn’t have to come out with us tonight, or drive me home and deal with my bullshit, but you did, and… I really do appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

You show him too much kindness. You stand there, looking up at him, with your sweet words and sweet scent. Standing so close to him. Too close.

“Well I am,” you say. “Tonight wasn’t really what I wanted, but... I mean it when I say you definitely were the highlight.”

You present your hand out, inviting him to shake it. “I hope you have a good night, lieutenant.”

Ghost looks down at your hand, feeling his heart catch in his chest. After some thought, he decides to return the handshake. His large hand engulfs yours, and though the coldness of his skin is so sharp it sends goosebumps up your arm, your hand remains in his.

"Likewise," Ghost says.

Seconds pass, and your hands remain together. Touching you, touching him. You're as warm as your personality, your touch soft and delicate in his, as your thumb gently brushes his battered knuckles and rough skin, ignoring all its imperfections.

Do you have to go so soon ?

When you start to pull your hand away, Ghost's grip tightens, keeping your hand in his. The dumbest thing he could possibly have done. You bring your eyes to his, your expression caught off guard, and he sees it in you finally -- that want to not be alone. The want to be closer. The longing to be near someone real.

It's the nagging, familiar feeling in your eyes he's seen all along. A shared want to be human for a moment.

You use the grip he has on your hand as an excuse to pull yourself near. Your other arm extends towards him, weaving beneath his arm and around his waist. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes. With your ear to him, you listen to his heart race, and settle more against him. An innocent embrace. 

Suddenly you felt as a giant, and he so meager.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think your touch frightened him, from how reserved he behaved. But you hug him like you’ve wanted to this whole time, smelling the outside on him, feeling the dry rain against your skin. 

Ghost hasn't hugged you back yet, becoming somewhat of a passive observer, soaking in every sensation. How long has it been since someone touched him so gently? Since he's allowed someone to? 

And how long has he been unknowingly waiting for someone to? 

Ghost is stiff in your hold, fighting this flexing urge he had to instinctively pull away from you. Each second passes and the touch of your arms settles him, his body finally relaxing against yours. Before long, his arms wrap over your small figure, pressing you deeper into his chest. Like a child clutching a blanket.

Your arms adjust around him, making Ghost feel ashamed by how soothing you felt to hold. These actions feel so foreign.

The man's hold tightens, his chin slowly resting at the crown of your head. He can feel you exhale, the air leaving your body as your face buries itself beneath his arm. Even with both your clothes on, he can feel so much of you pressed against him. Your heat feels like a flame in the dark; long has he spent on this lonely trek freezing.

What more has he been missing?

Your fingers start to clutch at his back tightly, a small whimper leaving your lips, muffled between his arm and chest. Ghost had begun to squeeze you. He doesn’t let go until he feels you squirm a little. Once he realizes however, it immediately embarrasses him.

That shouldn’t have brought that out of him. He should not have allowed himself to do that. He takes a step back, eyes looking between you and the wall behind you. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s scolding his own actions. Damning them. Because now he found himself already missing it.

“Couldn’t breathe there for a second,” you laugh, your voice cutting into his thoughts so effortlessly. Ghost blinks, and in that instance he sees you again. You were absolutely beaming. “That was like a bear hug.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Ghost says to himself. You just happened to be the only other person in the room to hear it too.

You take no mind to his words, chuckling at them in fact. “It’ll be our little secret, lieutenant.”

Simon. He felt himself about to tell you. His name is Simon, the man you speak to. The one you’ve been trying to see all night. Not that you even asked for his name; you never did ask for much from him.

Ghost steps into the empty hallway, feeling all the atmosphere and energy from your room shed off like a dead layer of skin. It won’t take very long for him to adjust back into his old habits, as they do die hard. Though he had a few more things to think about now. Great…

“Oh and Ghost!” you call to him from your doorway. Ghost turns, seeing your head peeking out from your room. “Don't be a stranger.”

Your door shuts, and yet he lingers in the hall a moment longer. Thinking. His head sags in defeat and he finally pries himself away.

...Chapter Eleven Here!

[manicpixiess]

Book wrap-up!! I’ve been on an RF Kuang *spree* this week; I finished Babel and Yellowface, and am halfway through The Poppy War! I love love love how her stories are so compelling and addictively well-written; you simply cannot put the book down, even if nothing particularly thrilling is happening! 

Babel: Solid 3.5 stars out of 5. I’m not a student of either linguistics or history, so I was absolutely fascinated by the mini-lectures on etymology, and the concept of magic being harnessed from meaning lost in translation was one of the coolest premises I’ve ever come across in a book. The author’s world-building drew more on real historical events rather than attempts at reinventing history with silver magic at its core, which I honestly didn’t have a problem with (though a lot of other readers did!). This story worked perfectly well as low-fantasy for me. The historical aspects seemed well-researched, and the themes of violence, revolution and colonialism were explored in an impactful and creative (if not particularly subtle!) way. 

So why, you might ask, was it not a five star read? For me, it was the characters that did it. Robin and Letty are the only characters with any sort of, well, 3D-ness to them! The rest served only as a neat summary (a translation, if you will, and not a very good one) of the ideas, politics and culture of entire countries, or flat out caricatures, all created with the sole intent of making sure the reader Gets the point, which is that Racism is Bad. 

Ramy was a particularly disappointing character for me, because his is a story I would’ve loved to read- an Indian brought up in British-occupied India, sent to England to study. His character was instead reduced to quips and political opinions that are expressed in a jarringly modern way, with zero insight into how his culture and experiences as an Indian Muslim shaped these thoughts! We get only a brief interlude where Ramy’s history is explained in a single page, perhaps to make up for the abysmal lack of characterisation throughout the rest of the book. How hard would it have been to have these experiences be something he talks about, has feelings about, is affected by in noticeable ways?! The whole thing felt so impersonal. 

Ramy is the only POC character in the story with a surviving family (that he loves dearly and writes to!), yet these two facets of his experience (being a student at Oxford, and being brought up in India with family there) are entirely separate except when the author needs to drive a point home. I moved away from home for college- and I haven’t met a single person there who hasn’t experienced the move in a way that is fundamentally influenced by where they’re from (I’m from Bangalore, and I find the way that my uni’s city shuts down after like 10pm weird! I love the tree-lined roads, because they remind me of home! I miss my family! And these two cities are quite similar, and in the same country. I’d have wayy more to say if I’d been shipped to a new continent.) 

Victoire was the same- a single page explaining her backstory, and no characterisation besides her actions toward the end. It is hardly believable that Ramy and Victoire are so desperate to save their homes, their cultures, the parts of themselves that they have to fight to keep- without their connections to these things ever appearing organically. I suppose it just goes to show that representation is tricky business! What I wanted from Ramy’s story might not be what every South Asian wants, and his character was not written to be the main focus of the book. I still love that RF Kuang wrote a character that I can see bits of myself in!

I absolutely would recommend the book. It’s incredibly creative and beautifully written, and explores really important themes.

Yellowface: 3.5 out of 5 again! I’m still unsure if this book was intended as a serious critique of the publishing industry, or even an exploration of the question of who gets to tell which stories. Athena’s complicated relationship with the people whose stories she told (especially the whole diaspora versus resident divide on writing about a country’s history, and her family’s reaction to her books) is something I would’ve liked to see more of, but like that one tumblr post said- critique what the book did, not what it didn’t! June Hayward is incredibly hateable, and given how chronically online I am, I was nodding my head sagely the whole time she was getting put in her place on twitter. It’s an easy, compelling read but it definitely gives you something to think about.

[tinyyoungblood]

OOO OK hear me out: headcanon of midnight fast food runs with all the avengers. somehow everyone’s awake at 3 am so everyone gets piled into a car, half asleep, peter driving and y/n playing the best music, just to walk into like mcdonald’s and getting recognized and it’s just the best thing ever

a/n: you creative child, this is brilliant!! thank u for sending it in :’) here you go, another headcanon bc this is how i cope lol enjoy

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

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

the avengers + 3 am midnight runs

it’s 3:30 am and it’s one of those nights

no can sleep, everyone is awake for various reasons and they’re all sick of blindly tossing around. then they hear the elevator ding from out the hallway and they immediately perk up

they all get up at the same time and open their doors at the same time

bruce: “we have to stop spending so much time together”

then they silently shuffle toward the elevator to see who it is

thor, peter and y/n step out, all holding a venti iced latte and a mcmuffin and everyone acts like it’s grossing them out because it’s too early for food

but their eyes meet and it’s one of those moments where you know you’re about to do something careless and stupid but you do it anyway

they all squeeze into the elevator in their pyjamas without uttering a word and wiggle their way into the 10 passenger van they always use for bonding trips

y/n, peter and thor follow without protest bc Sleep Is For The Weak

peter somehow ends up in the driver’s seat while y/n gets to drive shotgun and no one notices bc everyone’s too busy fighting tooth and nail to get some room but then the car almost hits a lantern and someone screams

(it was loki)

“sHIT eyes on the road stark!!!” “wilson, i’m sitting right next to you?” “then who’s driving”

y/n, cheerily: “peter is!” “yep! and i think i’m doing a pretty good job too! can you believe i’ve only driven in parking lots and once in a car chase? funny right” “yOU WHAT-“

y/n switches to random stations to have it play quietly in the background but then ‘driver’s license’ comes on and peter whoops and rolls down the windows while y/n yanks up the volume

the avengers are flabbergasted because why are the younglings getting so excited about a song that is about heartbreak?

30 seconds later, they get it

sam pulls up lyrics, tony and nat chime in on the chorus with peter and y/n, and the others pull out flashlights and lighters to hold them up

bucky tries to wipe away his tears without anyone noticing, and steve smirks at him because ofc he saw it. he’s not impressed when bucky hisses at him

and then the bridge hits and everyone loses their minds

safety is thrown to the wind, everyone rolls down their windows and sticks out their heads and arms while screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs

it’s too cinematic to be real tbh but it’s GREAT

and that’s how the longest night of the year starts. not technically, but it sure feels like it because so much happens

mcdonald’s is lawless land and the avengers are on a mission to wholeheartedly contribute to the vibe

some guy waiting in line: “hey aren’t you the god of thunder? you’re an avenger right?”

thor, literally carrying mjolnir and very obviously traveling with the team: “never heard of them”

clint is an old man and it’s clearly past his bed time but he refuses to be left out of this, so he fluctuates between napping the moment they sit down and trying to drag everyone along to wander around

steve is 100% that one super super nice stranger you start a super deep conversation with and it leaves you in a great mood for the rest of the night

he even ends up exchanging numbers with a nice lady that does art workshops so now steve has a new place to flaunt his artistic vein :)

it’s literally 3 am but nat and loki look flawless. it’s ridiculous. they’re sauntering through this place, looking like the gods of hell, and leaving other insomniacs utterly speechless

they’re all turning their heads to stare after them because have they officially lost their minds? how does one look so intimidating but so magnificent

tony is the king of insomnia, he’s INVENTED it and it’s his city now, but once he’s out he’s out and no one has the heart to wake him up

he falls asleep in the most uncomfortable positions/places all night

he’s literally on top of a stranger’s car and they really have to go and the avengers are all shoving each other to be the one who has to interrupt his precious sleep

eventually bucky ends up carrying tony and he wakes up as they’re walking back

tony, patting bucky on the cheek before hopping down: “thanks buck”

peter being a class one protégé and passionate insomniac himself follows in his mentor’s footsteps and falls asleep everywhere, and although it’s kinda concerning, the team understands it shows his trust in them

he gets used to waking up in steve or thor’s arms

one time sam tossed him over his shoulder to get back to the car and peter is aghast, he is appalled, how dare he not carry him bridal style like the rest of the avengers, he deserves it-

they go get frozen yoghurt and steve only wants the healthy mango sorbet but y/n convinces him to try some of hers, which is vanilla chocolate fudge and oreo pieces

“that’s awful” “you want another bite” “yes”

(steve rogers is a whore for chocolate but you’ll never see him admit it)

nat challenges clint and bruce to fill their cups as high as possible so now they’re all stretched out on their stomaches on the floor by the yoghurt machines, ankles crossed, and navigating their cups to make the highest frozen yoghurt tower the world has ever seen

this starts a whole series of competitions in the middle of the store including who can leg press the most people

it ends up being a tie between steve, bucky, thor, and peter. they each had nat, tony, bruce AND loki and didn’t even break a sweat

“y/n, close your mouth”

but the night eventually does come to an end and everyone is huddled inside the van, some are already lightly snoring, and tony’s driving

once they’re back at the compound they don’t feel like parting ways though, so they wordlessly go to their rooms to grab all the pillows and blankets they can find

once they’re all sprawled on the ground in the living room, sleep comes easily especially after a night like that <3

* * *

stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

[aspoonofsugar]

Jaune: Zero to Hero

Pyrrha: It's not about why; it's about knowing. Understanding dark and light helps us manifest our Aura. Everyone has some of both.

Knowledge, Creation and Destruction all lead up to Aura. This is just another way to say that they lead up to individuality, which is something Grimms lack:

Pyrrha: They are creatures of Grimm, the manifestation of anonymity.

Individuality is conveyed through Choice. This is why Choice is the most important and final gift. It is symbolic of self-actualization, which is what our characters are pursuing in their coming of age story.

Jaune’s personal arc comments the group’s collective journey and marks each stage very clearly.

In which way does it happen? And what do these stages mean for Jaune’s growth as an individual?

THE IGNORANT WARRIOR

Pyrrha: Jaune, do you... know what Aura is?

Jaune: Psch! Of course I do! Do you know what Aura is?

Jaune is introduced as inexperienced and ignorant. He lacks combat experience and knows nothing about key concepts like Aura, Landing Strategy or Semblances.

His journey starts because Pyrrha shares her knowledge with him:

She awakens his aura, his very soul and later on trains him, so she helps his body get stronger:

In other words, Pyrrha is the one who puts Jaune on the right path to become a true “hero” and a “warrior”.

This is Jaune’s objective since the beginning, but he initially pursues it in the wrong way:

Jaune: I don't want help! I don't want to be the damsel in distress! I want to be the hero!

He is fixated on an idea of hero which is outdated and has its root in toxic masculinity:

Jaune: Cause this is always what I've wanted to be! My father, my grandfather, and his father before him were all warriors! They were all heroes! I wanted to be one, too. I was just never good enough.

This is why symbolically Jaune wants to be like his male ancestors. He wants to grow into “a real man”:

Cardin: Let's see how much of a man you really are...

And this is conveyed also through his Weapon:

Jaune: It's a hand-me-down. My great-great-grandfather used it to fight in the war.

Jaune did not forge his own Weapon, but he inherited it. Crocea Mors initially represents the legacy he wants to live up to. However, this legacy, instead of driving him, slows him down because he can’t grow until he remains in his ancestors’ shadow. Jaune needs to develop his own individuality instead.

In order to do so, he needs to grow not only as a figther, but as a person too.

As a matter of fact, Jaune’s ignorance is not only limited to the world he has stepped into, but also to the people around him:

Jaune: That's easy for you to say. You've probably got guys clamoring over each other just to ask you out.

Pyrrha: You'd be surprised.

He is so self-focused that he does not notice others’ feelings and hurts them unintentionally.

However, Pyrrha teaches him once again:

Pyrrha:Tell her exactly what you said. No ridiculous schemes, no pick-up lines. Just... be honest.

 It is thanks to her that Jaune manages to become a better man:

He is even able to call Neptune out the way Pyrrha did with him:

Jaune: Then just go talk to her. No pickup lines, no suave moves, just be yourself. I've heard that's the way to go.

And as a result, even Jaune’s relationship with Weiss gets better:

Weiss: You said you were embarrassed at first. What made you come talk to me?

Neptune: You're looking at him.  You got some good friends looking out for ya.

Because the girl realizes Jaune is not only after her money or her romantic attention:

Weiss: All my life, boys have only cared about the perks of my last name.

But wants to genuinely be a good friend to her.

In short, Jaune starts the story as immature both as a fighter and as a person to the point that he is considered unfit and annoying by other characters:

Glynda: I don't care what his transcripts say. That Jaune fellow is not ready for this level of combat.

However, thanks to Pyrrha, he is given the chance to mature.

Not only that, but while other characters see a weakness and a nuisance in Jaune’s ignorance and inexperience, Pyrrha sees it as a possibility:

Weiss: Jaune, is it? Do you have any idea who you're talking to?

Jaune: Not in the slightest, snow angel.

Weiss: This is Pyrrha.

It is specifically because Jaune is new to Pyrrha’s world that he is free from bias:

Pyrrha:  That's what I like about you. When we met, you didn't even know my name. You treated me just like anyone else. And thanks to you, I've made friendships that will last a lifetime. I guess, you're the kind of guy I wish I was here with. Someone who just saw me for me.

This is why Pyrrha feels she can forge a genuine bond with Jaune. What is more, the girl has faith in his potential:

Pyrrha: It's all right. I used my Aura to unlock yours, but the energy that protects you now is your own. You have a lot of it.

She sees in him what others do not and helps him develop both as a man and as a warrior.

This is well highlighted by the metal motif the two characters share.

As @hamliet explains here Rwby has several characters linked to the seven metals of alchemy.

The goal of alchemy is to create gold thanks to a process of refiniment that purifies the metal and has it go through several transformations. 

The seven metals are nothing, but a scale that goes from the heaviest and most raw metal (lead) to the most purified (gold) passing through the others (tin, iron, copper, mercury, silver).

For a story, it simply means that a character goes through a process of change that leads to self-actualization.

In Rwby this idea is conveyed through specific characters embodying a metal (Ironwood, Penny, Mercury) or even thanks to metal motifs commenting a specific part of a character arc.

For example, Yang is associated with gold:

I am the golden one Who burns just like the sun

But Adam takes her arm away and has her regress in the scale of metals to iron. This regression is not simply physical, but psychological as well:

However, Yang re-affirms herself and moves forward. The first step of this process is to symbolically make her new arm “gold” again:

When it comes to Jaune, I think that he may be the character associated with lead aka the “prima materia” that needs to be molded into gold. Even if this is not true, metal is at least definately still a motif in his arc, as it is in Pyrrha’s. This is why both characters wear metal armors, differently from others.

Pyrrha is already close to her self-actualization and she reaches it in the climax of the Vale arc, where she completes her (tragic) arc and dies a Maiden.

This is why her armor is gold, while Jaune’s is white and gray. Pyrrha is at the top of the metal scale and close to the end of her journey, while Jaune is respectively at the very bottom and at the very beginning.

He is the embodyment of the prima materia that has potential for greatness, but only if he is rightly guided and if he himself works hard.

Pyrrha takes over herself the duty to help Jaune mold himself.

This is underlined also by Pyrrha’s semblance:

Pyrrha: Well, Ruby has her speed, you have your glyphs. My Semblance is polarity.

Pyrrha can control and bend metals and she shows her power for the first time when she helps Jaune against the Ursa, so that he can overcome his self-issues.

So, Jaune starts the story as the lead and is going through a path of self-refinement which will lead him to become gold, so more similar to Pyrrha herself.

Pyrrha offers him the basic knowledge to start this journey, but unluckily leaves him too soon and now Jaune has to move forward on his own.

THE CREATIVE AVENGER

Pyrrha: I want you to know that I'm just happy to be a part of your life. I'll always be here for you, Jaune.

Even after Pyrrha’s death, this stays true:

Blacksmith: That was some fine metal you brought me. Accents the white nicely. Where'd you get it from?

Pyrrha has become a part of Jaune.

This is a recurring motif in Rwby:

Penny: I won’t be gone, I’ll be part of you.

It is the idea that grieving is a process that leads to acceptance, but also to integration with a lost one. It is a way to have the deceased keep on living through the survivors.

In Jaune and Pyrrha’s case, this is conveyed through Pyrrha’s metal being used to enrich Jaune’s Weapon.

As stated by Ruby:

Ruby: Just weapons? They're an extension of ourselves! They're a part of us! Oh, they're so cool.

Weapons are symbolic of the self, just like Semblances.

What is more, Weapons and Semblances are also a declination of the dychotomy of body and soul, presented by the series.

Weapons are wielded by bodies, while Semblances are a materialization of the soul.

In other words, Pyrrha’s gold becoming a part of Jaune’s Weapon is symbolic of Jaune’s first step in a painful process that will lead him to overcome his partner’s death and to inherit Pyrrha’s legacy.

Jaune must keep on learning from Pyrrha and become more like her. As noted by @hamliet​, this is symbolized also by Jaune’s design aquiring more golden details as he goes on in his journey:

Jaune: Guess I was going to grow out of it eventually.

Ren: A sign of progress.

Jaune: Progress.

That said, grieving is not easy and Jaune must struggle with much pain and negative feelings.

This is why the changes he makes to Crocea Mors are finalized to increase its attack power:

It is because Jaune feels anger over Pyrrha’s death and wants revenge.

In the Battle of Haven he gives in to his fury and tries to kill Cinder. He is trying to superficially imitate Pyrrha’s sacrifice:

Jaune: If I die buying them time, then it's worth it. They're the ones that matter.

However, he is not doing it out of bravery or necessity, but out of recklessness and self-hate. This is why his actions lead to this:

Once again, Jaune risks to lose another loved one:

Jaune: No, no, no, no, not again! Weiss, c'mon, please!!

However, this time he is able to save Weiss thanks to his Semblance:

Jaune: My Semblance?

Nora: How else do you think you're healing her, dummy?

Jaune gives up on using his Weapon to fight and chooses to use his Semblance to cure. He chooses soul over body and Creation over Destruction.

At the same time, Jaune’s activation of his Semblance is meaningful on two levels:

Jaune: No. I don't think I'm healing her. Our Aura heals our bodies. It feels... it feels more like I'm using my Aura to amplify hers!

Nora: Wait, aren't you worried about running out?

Jaune: Pyrrha once told me I've got a lot of it. I still believe her.

First of all, Jaune’s Semblance is rooted in the idea that people heal themselves. His power is not to cure others, but to amplify others’ auras, so that they can become stronger and can heal. It is about bringing out the best in others. It is a power fit for a leader, but also an ability symbolic of Jaune’s own process of healing. He can heal himself through helping others to heal.

Secondly, Jaune’s Semblance is in itself a nod to Pyrrha. Pyrrha used her own aura to awake his and Aura Amp is simply an evolution of this idea. It is not about activating others’ auras, but it is a power that lets Jaune share his. It also makes good use of something Pyrrha noticed immediately aka Jaune’s huge quantity of aura.

In other words, Jaune ends up acting like Pyrrha in the Battle of Haven, but not because he fights Cinder, but because he shares his gift with others, just like Pyrrha did with hers.

Pyrrha is a part of Jaune both in body (Crocea Mors) and soul (Aura Amp), but Jaune must still truly understand what this means.

He makes progress in Lost:

Red-Haired Woman: She understood that she had a responsibility... to try. I don't think she would regret her choice, because a Huntress would understand that there really wasn't a choice to make. And a Huntress is what she always wanted to be.

This is the essence of Pyrrha’s sacrifice. Jaune comes to understand it and chooses to make a similar choice together with his team:

Jaune: I think... I think she knew she wasn't going to win. That she might not come out alive. But... she also knew she was the only one that could try.

Ren: So she did.

Nora: Maybe we should too.

Jaune: Yeah, we should.

In this way, it will be as if Pyrrha were fighting together with them:

Nora: Pyrrha may not be by our side anymore, but we can fight like she is.

Jaune: And in a way... she will be.

Jaune tries to overcome his anger and his sadness for Pyrrha’s death in order to keep fighting like she did.

So, once again he chooses this:

Ruby: I wanted to protect my friends.

Maria: Precisely! It is the desire to preserve life which fuels the light inside you. And to make no mistake, it is light. Preservation is an extension of creation, or, at the very least, an enemy of destruction. The Creatures of Grimm were made by the God of Darkness, but your light comes from his brother.

He chooses to protect life and this is the essence of Creation.

Once he confirms this choice, he is free to explore Creation’s potential and he does so in the land of Creation itself, Atlas.

He strengthens his shield instead of his sword:

And he trains his Semblance:

Oscar: Nice, your recovery is getting faster.

This all leads him to become stronger psychologically:

Ren: Him on the other hand... There's no fear at all. I can see it, he believes we're going to get this done.

That said, Jaune starts meeting limits to his new found strength rooted in Creation:

Jaune: Ah, sorry. No matter how much I boost you, they won’t go away.

Jaune: Did... I stop the virus?

Penny: No. It’s still there.

Jaune’s way to move forward is to heal himself through healing others. Still, what to do when this is not possible?

THE DESTRUCTIVE HEALER

Penny: No… there’s not enough time to heal me…

Penny: But there is something you can do…

What happens in Atlas is an inversion of Haven.

Penny pushes Jaune’s Semblance away and touches Crocea Mors.

Jaune is asked to give up on healing her and to speed up her death instead. He is asked to choose his Weapon (body) over his Semblance (soul) and Destruction over Creation.

This marks the characters entering the Destruction phase:

Leaving Creation (Penny) behind.

For Jaune, this means that his own self image that he has worked so much to build and to make his own:

And that has been enriched in Anima thanks to Pyrrha...is shattered:

At the same time, he is once again put in a similar spot as Pyrrha:

They both become unwilling agents of Penny’s death because of Cinder (and Emerald and Mercury in the first case):

Pyrrha: Ruby, I... I'm so sorry.

Ruby: Me too. But it wasn't your fault.

Jaune: She's right. Whoever was on that microphone... they're the ones that did this. And we have to make sure they don't take anyone else.

So Jaune’s journey to integrate with Pyrrha, to understand her and her struggle continues.

What now?

It is too soon to say because we have yet to properly start our journey through Destruction and what it is about.

That said, there are two things that are worth highlighting. The first is a motif Rwby is following, while the second is a general theme found in many stories.

1) As @hamliet​ has stated in many metas and as I have written here, Rwby is an alchemical story. Alchemical stories are usually marked by three important deaths. Each death is symbolically linked to a color. They are usually black, white and red. However, sometimes there can be yellow instead of the white or the red. This is the case here, where a resonant death is the yellow death aka Penny’s.

It is a death that happens while the characters are surrounded by yellow:

And it happens through a weapon called “Yellow Death” (Crocea Mors’s meaning). So, it is really not subtle. Penny’s death is meant to mark an important passage for our protagonists, just like Pyrrha’s one (the black death).

2) It is common in stories that deal with healers to explore the concept of death as well.

The basic idea is that a healer is a person meant to cure. That said, they will meet people impossible to cure and that will die on their watch. This is an unescapable truth a true healer must live with.

Let’s highlight this theme is found in works very different for genre and culture.

Let’s have two examples.

Scrubs aka an American comedy about doctors deals with this theme multiple times. In many episodes the characters must simply accept they can’t save a life, but must still not lose hope and keep on living themselves.

Yosano from the manga BSD says so:

Her backstory explores the link bewteen life and death further since it is shown that a power that cures fatal wounds can be used to cheapen life itself:

It is too soon to say if Rwby will explore a similar theme, but the fact that Jaune, (the healer) is the one that has to speed up Penny’s death might be a very powerful and poignant choice. This is true especially because Rwby does not refuse Destruction (and so does not refuse death), but presents it as a principle equal to Creation (so as a part of life).

THE CHOOSING HERO

Jaune’s arc is about living Pyrrha’s death over and over again with different scenarios and outcomes. This happens so that in the end he can finally overcome it.

So far, it has happened three times and each time has been in the climax of an important battle.

The Battle of Beacon has him witness powerlessly to Pyrrha’s death (lack of knowledge and passivity).

The Battle of Haven has him saving Weiss (creation).

The Battle of Atlas has him killing Penny (destruction).

What is more, every time Jaune becomes more proactive and conscious of what he is doing.

In Beacon he has no idea of what is happening. He works with little information and things happen to him without him being able to do anything.

In Haven his actions lead to Weiss being in danger, but he manages to save her. That said, he does not do it consciously. He unlocks his Semblance because of emotional stress. It is an unconscious choice and not a conscious one.

In Atlas he makes a specific conscious choice, but it is a choice that is forced on him because of external circumstances. It is also a choice that is meant to challenge and temporally break him.

In other words, he is slowly and painfully approaching Choice aka self-actualization. Right now, he has to face the consequences of Penny’s death, but this will probably lead him to finally enter the Choice stage and to complete his arc by becoming a “hero” aka gold (probably).

At the same time, this final choice will also be about healing and overcoming grief. It will be the final integration with Pyrrha and him being able to honor her legacy.

After all, we have been told from the beginning what Pyrrha’s fate would have been. We’ve just failed to notice:

Pyrrha: For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all, infinite in distance and unbound by death. I release your soul, and by my shoulder protect thee.

June and Pyrrha’s bond is eternal and she is meant to be the key character in Jaune’s arc. It is only through confronting and finally overcoming her loss that Jaune can finally self actualize and become the person Pyrrha has always known he could be. Pyrrha will symbolically be with him in this struggle. Her memory will protect and inspire him. 

[staticscreenwriting]

LOVE LIKE THE MOVIES // BUCKY BARNES // 3

THREE - Little Shop Of Horrors

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Bucky vividly remembers being about 10 years old and sitting on the living room floor watching his father assemble a heavy cabinet made from dark, massive wood. It had intricate gold ornaments along the sides and around the edges and even at that young age, he knew that it must’ve been expensive.

He likes thinking back to that memory, mostly because it’s one of the few that he can still tightly hold onto and recount the exact way he’s felt then, and partly because it’s so seemingly insignificant. It’s nice to know that some of the memories he regained after having his mind wiped clean, are tiny unimportant ones. It’s not just the big moments and grand gestures that make life worth living. Sometimes it’s the little things, the small details you look back on and fondly remember with a smile on your face.

Looking at the furniture before him, Bucky can’t imagine what his mother would think of these cabinets. Everything is white or beige or grey and there’s a lot of shiny black fronts and glass doors. The place is huge, so huge they have to tape arrows on the floor so people don’t get lost, and it smells of artificial vanilla and sawdust.

It’s not like he hates the furniture here, it’s just a lot and quite honestly, he’s not sure what really matches his personal style. Hell, he hasn’t had a personal style since before he went to fight in the war.

“ Ooooh, this one is very you! “ (Y/N) exclaims as she lets herself fall onto a fluffy brown 2-seat sofa.

If it wasn’t for her, Bucky wouldn’t be here. Not only because he wants her to come around more often and actually be able to sit on a couch, but also because she was literally the one driving them both here.

“Watcha doin? “

That was the text that started it, and before he knew she had pulled up to his apartment building, arm hanging from her open car window, and yelled “Get in loser, we’re going furniture shopping! “

Bucky assumes that is another movie reference though he doesn’t dare ask her about it.

“Nope, that’s a two-seater. Too small. I want to be able to sleep on it. “

“ Or, and hear me out on this one, you could get a new bed to sleep in. “

He doesn’t have any reply to that. It’s not like he doesn’t want to sleep in his bed, it’s just — it’s too soft. It’s too comfortable. It makes it easy to fall asleep and dream. And it’s never pleasant dreams. It’s nightmares. It’s faces that haunt him. Innocent faces. Eyes filled with terror. Fear. Fear of him. It’s nightmares. It’s memories.

When he doesn’t answer, (Y/N) pulls herself back up from the sofa and wanders on “or we’ll just have to find a bigger couch, that’s fine too. “

And at that moment he’s entirely grateful that she doesn’t push him any further.

They wander around the store for a while longer, slalom in between sofas and recliners, swerve in and out of mock-up rooms, all the while (Y/N) keeps throwing puns at him incorporating the Swedish names of the furniture.

Hanging out with her kind of reminds him of the times he hung out with Steve when both of them were so much younger. Of course, it’s nothing alike. He’s not even close to the person he was then, the boy he was then. The thing is, back then everything was easy and light. Being here with her and listening to her horrible puns, that’s easy too. For right now, he doesn’t even notice the weight that’s constantly resting on his heart or the perpetual shadow that seems to rest above him. This is easy and it feels so nice.

They step into yet another room, this one painted a dark forest green. Against the wall, there’s a dark wooden cabinet holding books and a fake tv and in the middle is a corner sofa made from dark brown leather. It’s big enough to fit both him and (Y/N) and maybe even Lady if she’s okay with cuddling up a little to either of them.

“ I like that one,” Bucky says and lets himself plop down on the couch. It’s comfortable but not too soft. It’s just right. Is this what Goldilocks felt like?

(Y/N) sits down next to him, rests her feet on top of the couch table and for a second it’s just them and the black screen of the fake tv and the intercom system calling out for little Kyle to be picked up at the Småland play area.

“ Honey, “ (Y/N) speaks up after a moment, “ I think the tv is broken? “ her voice ringing through the mock-up in a thick Transatlantic accent, making her sound like the women in the movies he grew up with.

“ Huh. Ain’t that something ?”

“ Well didn’t you fix it like I told you? “

“ Guess I must’ve forgotten,” Bucky plays along, trying to suppress the smirk pulling the corner of his lips upwards.

“ Ugh, remind me again why I married you? “

Bucky shrugs his shoulders casually “ my good looks? “

“ Oh, don’t flatter yourself. It’s very unbecoming. Good thing is — “ she announces as jumps up, pulling Bucky up with her and right over into the next mock-up living room. “ We have another tv.”

As Kyle’s parents are called out again, (Y/N) and Bucky tumble from one room into the next. From kitchen to bathroom to fake little balcony. All setting the stage for another chapter from their made-up marriage. Scenes from a movie never made, a book never written. A beautiful kaleidoscope of could-be and never-was. A nice fantasy to get lost in.

If this was a rom-com, (Y/N) thinks, this would be the falling in love montage. Some killer indie track would play in the background and it would be featured in at least one Buzzfeed article about romantic gestures.

But it’s not a movie, it’s real life and she isn’t the romantic lead and Bucky is — well he would make a great leading man now that she thinks about it.

They make their way back to the green living room with the brown couch and the ‘broken’ tv and fall back against the leather, laughter shaking their bodies, tears of joy stinging at the corners of their eyes. As she catches her breath, (Y/N) taps Bucky softly on the right shoulder and drops her voice to a whisper.

“Honey,” she says “I don’t know how to tell you this but uh — there’s a family on our balcony.”

Bucky’s eyes follow her outstretched hand and sure enough on the adjacent fake balcony is a family of 4 staring back at them. And just like that, they fall back into a beautiful harmony of laughter.

“So explain to me again what this movie is about?” Bucky asks as (Y/N) takes another sip from her coke can.

“Dude buys a plant, it starts eating people.”

“And this is gonna show me what women want these days?”

A joyful chuckle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. “I mean … there is a love story and a moral about how far you’re willing to go for the people you love even if it might be morally questionable, but maybe — maybe we should consider this one the Halloween special.”

Bucky shrugs his shoulder as if to say “okay fine with me” and leans back against the car seat. The massive screen of the drive-in is currently playing some kind of ice cream commercial that has (Y/N) softly humming along to the jingle.

This trip wasn’t planned, in fact, they’d been on their way back home when a billboard at the side of the road caught (Y/N)’s attention and put a huge grin on her face, so wide it could’ve split her face in two.

That’s how he ended up parked neatly in a row of cars, Coca-Cola in hand, popcorn resting in between him and (Y/N) waiting for the commercials to end and the movie to begin.

“You’re gonna love this one,” she’s told him beforehand. He’s a little skeptical about it but he’s not gonna tell her. Bucky is just so appreciative of the fact that she bothers trying to introduce him to these things. They might not end up being for him but it’s a good feeling to have someone care this much. Someone who hasn’t been with him through all the shit. Someone who doesn’t feel responsible because they pity him. Someone who doesn’t owe it to Steve to look after Bucky…

“So … I still have some homework to do.” He chimes in thinking back to their conversation on his living room floor.

“Homework that involves me?”

“Mmh. Doc thinks I should learn some more things about you. Apparently, it’s not enough to know that you’re crazy about movies and talk a lot.”

“I do talk a lot.” (Y/N) agrees and pops a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “I don’t know what to tell you. What you want to know?”

“Anything.”

Since coming back from oblivion, Bucky hasn’t really made an effort to get to know anyone. Growing closer to people only means there’s more for you to lose. More people you can potentially hurt. He doesn’t usually learn new things about people because he doesn’t ask. Because he doesn’t want to know. It’s a lonely life but it’s safe. It’s comfortable.

But this is different. He’s in too deep now to stop. And yeah, maybe this is his homework. Maybe he asks because his therapist told him too but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He wants to know about (Y/N). Even the little things. The insignificant details.

“Well as I said before, I’ve studied literature and creative writing. I want to be an author. That’s uh — that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. The thing is it’s very hard to actually get people to give your writing a chance. Especially now. The world is in such a weird limbo after everyone came back. There’s no room for my art right now. So I work as a waitress to make ends meet. “

“What would you write about?” Bucky asks and in her eyes, in the surprise that’s so clearly written on her face, he can see that people don’t ask her that all too often.

“I don’t know, life? “

“Love stories?”

She lets out a mix between a scoff and a snort “what do I know about romance? I can tell you all about the love the movies and the songs and the books want to sell us, and don’t get me wrong, I love that. But I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced true and honest romantic love. So how could I ever write about it ?”

For a moment silence falls upon them. It’s neither comfortable nor awkward. It just is. Sometimes that’s enough.

“Look, I might not know a lot about love either, but I do know that dreams are worth holding on to, no matter how out of reach they seem. If it’s something you believe in and that you’re passionate about, it’s worth fighting for it.”

“Huh, didn’t put you for such a motivational speaker. Where’ve you got that from”

“Didn’t think the skinny boy from Brooklyn was ever gonna save a whole bunch of lives and fight in a war. Steve was the walking proof that you can do anything. “

“You miss him, huh?”

People don’t usually ask about Steve. They either don’t care how Bucky feels about the whole situation or they know it’s a tough topic and avoid it altogether. The worst part is he doesn’t even know how to respond. Yes of course he misses Steve, more than anything really, but there’s also a little bit of resentment swinging along. With Steve here by his side, it always felt like there was someone there who understood exactly what Bucky was going through. Someone who also had to figure out how to navigate this new life. But now with Steve gone, he feels so utterly alone.

“Every day.”

“Look I’m not going to ask what happened because quite honestly I’m still trying to grasp the fact that there are aliens and superheroes and wizards — “

“Wizards are not a thing.”

“You sure?”

Bucky lets out a slightly annoyed sigh “Yup. 100%”

“What’s the Strange guy?”

“Sorcerer.”

“That’s not the same?”

“No.”

(Y/N) considers for a moment, eyes screwed up in uncertainty before she shrugs her shoulder “ alright if you say so. Anyway, my point is, I don’t know if you have that many people to talk to and I don’t know if you even want to talk about Steve but if you do … well you can talk to me. I know I talk a lot but I’m also a really good listener. “

There’s no doubt in his mind that she is. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to talk about Steve yet though. Not when his heart is still at war whether or not to be angry. Not when he’s still so uncertain about his own complicated emotions.

“Thanks, I uh — I appreciate it.”

Loud music starts to play and (Y/N)’s head snaps towards the screen just in time for the title card to pop up in big colorful letters as three women shimmy across the street and start singing.

Bucky can’t help but let his gaze travel back towards (Y/N) every once in a while. There’s something about her he can’t quite figure out, but the way her eyes light up as she watches the movie and the smile on her face, it gives him a warm feeling. Like bad things don’t exist for the 90 minutes they sit together and watch a film.

“Sooooo?” (Y/N) asks as she parks the car in front of Bucky’s place. Her eyes still hold a sparkle that’s both mischievous and excited.

“I actually liked this one a little.”

“A little?”

“Look it’s not gonna be my favorite movie but I had fun. But uh — maybe that’s just because I’ve watched it with you.”

(Y/N) grants him a beautiful smile. It’s full of warmth and care and honesty. And he’s glad he told her, even if it makes him vulnerable.

“You telling me I’m a good friend?”

“Guess so.”

“Well, you’re a good friend too, Bucky.”

He hopes she’s right though he has a hard time believing it. He’s never seen himself as the greatest friend. Everything he did for Steve he did because he knew Steve would do the same. It came so naturally from both of them that it never felt like he was doing anything special or exceptional. It was as easy as breathing.

“Do you wanna come up? We could order some food.”

“Oh, I can’t. Gotta pick up Lady from Robin’s place. But as soon as your couch is delivered count me in as the first sleepover guest. “

“Will do. Hey, you think I should name the plant we bought (Y/N) 2?”

“Depends, you wanna feed the neighborhood Dentist to it”

“Maybe.”

They fall into another fit of laughter and even though it’s not that funny, and even though it’s really dumb and silly actually, Bucky enjoys it so much. He can’t remember a day when he laughed this much, felt this light.

“Oh, by the way, I’m throwing a pre-Halloween-party next weekend. If you’re free you should totally drop by.”

“I um — A friend is coming around that weekend.”

“Then bring your friend! The more the merrier, right ?”

Sam is gonna be down, there’s no doubt in Bucky’s mind about it. Sam isn't the problem, he never is. It’s Bucky. Going to a party is terrifying for someone who’s never known anything but the 1940s. This can only end up in disasters.

And yet …

“Okay, I’ll let him know.”

“Cool. Awesome. Just uh — Just text me when you know. Also, there’s no special theme so you can dress up as whatever.”

“I’m not dressing up.”

(Y/N) blows a raspberry against her arm “lame! But whatever, you do you.”

He guesses that means as much as “suit yourself”.

They bid each other goodbye with a hug and a promise from (Y/N) to Bucky to text him once she’s home just so he knows she’s safe.

To her, that’s a gesture so sweet and endearing it sends a jolt through her heart. To him, it’s as natural as breathing. You do what you can to keep those safe that you care about, even if it’s just a simple little text.

“You dressed up!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Man, You’re wearing a costume. I’m looking at you right now. I can see it. You dressed up.”

“These are just my clothes.”

“These are just your clothes? Your normal clothes?”

“Yes.”

“You’re wearing Converse now?”

“ mmh.”

“Your Jeans are cuffed, man. I’ve never seen you cuff your jeans.”

“It’s something I do now.”

Bucky isn’t a very religious person. He doesn’t pray very often. At that moment though, he prays to god and every higher spirit one might choose to believe in, to open up the earth and let it swallow him whole.

“Look,” Sam says and gives Bucks a friendly pat on the back “you don’t gotta be embarrassed by it. I dressed up!”

“Yeah, what even are you, by the way? An exterminator?”

“I — what? No! I’m a ghostbuster.”

“Okay. Whatever that is.”

“Whatev— Bucky, Man you really gotta go with the times a little. I know you’re practically ancient but the Ghostbusters? Catch up!”

“Whatever. I'm not dressing up. Can we go?” Bucky sighs in exasperation, making Sam’s grin grow even bigger. Bucky knows that he’s just playing into his game, that Sam loves riling him up. That doesn’t mean it’s any easier to not let it get to him.

“Alright alright. Hold your horses. I’m ready. Let’s go … Danny Zuko.”

Bucky wants to punch him then but Sam is out the door faster than Bucky can even react, his loud laughter sounding through the hallway.

There are people everywhere. Sitting on the kitchen counter, lounging on the couches, leaning against the wall by the open windows. Everywhere. The apartment is small and with so many people inside, it looks absolutely packed. Like sardines in a tin.

Music echos through the place, a song Bucky faintly recognizes from the radio but can’t name. Sam seems to enjoy it though, his body already swaying along to the tune.

“Hey Buck, where’s your girl?” He asks as both of them let their eyes travel across the room and over the crowd.

“She’s not my girl and I don’t —“

In the middle of the room is a fish tank. It separates the living room area from the dining room and kitchen. Blue and green hues radiate from it as colorful fish circle around and swerve in and out of the plants.

But Bucky hardly noticedsthe fish, as his eyes fall onto the girl at the other side of the tank. The water sends a blue shimmer across her skin but her smile doesn’t lose any of the warmth it always holds. She looks beautiful. She always does but there’s something about her tonight that’s different from all the times he’s seen her before. Something ethereal.

At that moment, Bucky feels a fluttery feeling in his heart, in his bones, in his blood. He knows this feeling, has felt it before, a long time ago. Maybe, he thinks, maybe there could be more than friendship there.

And that thought absolutely terrifies him. Because falling for someone makes you foolish and dumb and vulnerable. And that’s awfully scary.

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[green-socks]

Hungry Eyes chapter 5

Pairing: Benny Miller x OFC (Dirty Dancing AU)

Summary: Dirty Dancing but Benny is Baby and the dance instructor is a female OC, Jolene. Benny goes to a holiday resort with his family and somehow ends up spending his time dancing and falling in love! This part is practicing the famous lift and like Eye of the Tiger training montage type moments.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: None.

Notes: This fic is my own little world where I go when I need to. What you see on paper is only a bit of what happens inside my head, but it is what it is. I try. Inconsistent af about posting this bc my muse is a very "it's for me to know and you to to find out" type of gal, so I just follow her lead. Right now she's saying dance, Benny, dance, so he dances. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4 | MASTERLIST

The next few days continued with more dance lessons whenever they could.

Benny had experience with working out. A lot. He pretty much did that for a living, after all. So he knew he shouldn’t get frustrated when some new bit of information didn’t immediately stick to his mind. And yet it was hard to keep himself from stressing out, because there was a time limit, and he didn’t want to let Jolene and Patrick down.

They had the steps mostly down already, now it was about getting the routine to look like dancing- tying the steps together as fluid movement. Jolene kept saying that it was about the feeling, but Benny was having some trouble with that. It wasn’t easy to try and express feelings while all his brainpower went to focusing on remembering where to step and where to look and what to do with his hands at any given moment.

On the fourth day of practice Benny finally started letting loose, and he noticed he was actually having sort of fun with it. They had had a whole lesson on how to feel the music and let it guide you as much as your muscle memory. Apparently, the music told when there was room to breathe and where to be precise and hit the right accents. Jolene made him practice same bits over different songs to make him focus on the different beats. Once he got the feel of that down more, it became easier to make the whole choreography flow better.

Patrick also came in to help them practice and fine-tune the performance, since he knew the part better than Jolene did. Benny had some trouble with turns and keeping his form at first, but his fight training combined with Patrick’s tips helped with those. Some parts were truly starting to go well, and it was beginning to come together. They were extremely sweaty and exhausted all the time, but happy to be making progress. Benny’s legs were tired, arms tired, feet blistered - “dancer’s feet,” Jolene told him - but despite all that he was having a great time. He thrived on the challenge and physicality of it all, it made him feel alive.

He did still feel guilty about spending less time with his family, and instead spending late nights working on the choreography and occasionally popping into the entertainment crew’s parties. Most of the crew had really taken a liking to him, and even Patrick was slowly warming up to him. Only Jolene was still a closed off, not really volunteering anything personal about herself outside of the dancing they did. They still got along fairly well - they understood each other. They both had a strong work ethic and their teamwork got results.

But their teamwork wasn’t always smooth sailing, of course.

One of the parts Benny was struggling with was a serious and tender moment in the beginning of the choreography that required them to be very up close and personal. He couldn’t stop snickering and making jokes or just bursting out laughing and not doing it properly. Jo got annoyed at him for that, because she thought it was a stupid thing to be stuck on, and she had felt a little like he was somehow mocking the choreography, making it seem silly. But the truth of it was that Benny was a bit afraid of how intensely he would feel things if he let himself be completely serious and truly try to live the moment, be vulnerable. He didn’t know if he could keep his emotions in check.

-

There had also been a small argument on the fifth day when Benny had complained about a part he didn’t like in the choreo, and Jolene was having none of his sass. The frustration and stress had started getting to her, and she had snapped at him about not taking it seriously enough and not learning quickly enough.

And Benny had bit back, “Hey, I’m doin’ this just to help you and your friend! And we haven’t even tried to go through the whole thing yet, we haven’t practiced the lift at all, so how do you expect me to get it all if I can’t have the full picture?!”

Jo had seethed at him, breathing heavily for a moment, until she had said, “Fine. You have a car?”

--------

That’s how they had ended up borrowing Benny’s brother Will’s car to drive to a place where they could practice the troublesome lift.

Jo had most of the day off, so she decided now was a good time to go and work on the lift, since it would be best to practice it outside the resort. Benny made jokes and laughed at her when she had to adjust every setting on the seat and mirrors of the car to suit her much shorter frame. Jo was used to hearing jokes about her height but somehow, she didn’t mind them from Benny. She found herself surprised at how easy she felt in his company, the argument from before long forgotten already. With the radio playing and both of them joking around, she started driving toward a secluded beach nearby.

Jo noticed that it was much easier to talk with him now that they were alone together and removed from the context of training for a moment. She found herself opening up about her background in dance, how she had started and how her dream was to open her own dance studio someday. She also told him about her family, how she didn’t see them often because her younger brother was in college far from her and her parents had retired and moved to Australia. Benny was a surprisingly good listener, letting her talk and asking questions, seeming genuinely interested in her. Before she knew it, they reached the destination.

-

Under normal circumstances she would have started with some balancing and trust exercises, but they were past trust exercises, and Benny’s fight training meant he had great balance, so she decided to jump into the thing itself right away.

“Okay. We’ll just- go for it. I’ve shown you the video of what it’s supposed to look like, I’ve shown you where you’re supposed to put your hands and everything. We’re good to go, right? Or do you have any questions?”

“No.. I think I know what to do in theory, at least..” Benny says, rubbing his beard nervously.

She took a deep breath. Okay. There was nothing to it but to just try, it would be fine.

But after tumbling down to the grass a few times Jo realized it wouldn’t work, because they were both holding back for fear of falling. She was afraid of Benny not being able to lift her and then hurting him when he had to bear the brunt of the fallings. And Benny in his turn was scared of hurting her. There was also the added difficulty of their height difference - Benny would have to lift with his legs a lot more, and she would have to adjust a lot from what she was used to with Patrick, too.

So, they would have to make sure the fall was less scary..

“What if we get into the water? It’s safer to fall down there at least,” she suggested.

“What? You serious?”

“Yeah! What, you scared or something?”

Benny rolled his eyes at her childish taunting but shrugged and started taking his shoes and shirt off.

When she had first met him a few days ago, she had dismissed him as just some random dude crashing their party - a seemingly pleasant dude, sure, but nothing special. But now, given the opportunity to admire his back and arms without having to focus on being a dance instructor first, she couldn’t deny the view was very.. inspiring. She had seen him shirtless before because they did work up quite the sweat dancing in the summer heat, and the guy seemed very comfortable with his body. It was different, though, in this new environment and this new, more relaxed energy between them. It was a nice change of pace, truth be told.

Benny started opening his belt and Jo stopped in her tracks.

“What are you doing?”

“If you wanna deal with my brother when we return his car with the seats all wet, be my guest, but I learned to not get any fluids on his car seats when I was sixteen,” he said seriously, shaking his head while pulling his jeans off.

“…You know what, I’ll take that chance. I’m keeping my shorts on,” she said, thinking of the not-covering-much-at-all underwear she had on.

“It’s totally fine, I have a hoodie you can sit on. Plus, he wouldn’t even know how to be mad at you,” Benny smiled.

They got in the slightly chilly water, Jo determinedly not looking at Benny until they were deep enough.

-

“Alright, let’s try again!”

The added support of the water was a big help, and after a few tries they managed a perfect lift for a moment until Jo lost her balance and dived into the water.

“Yes, yes! You did it! That was so good!” Jo shouted after she resurfaced. “I lost my balance, but you did it!”

Benny’s eyes seemed to light up, and the next few times he tried even harder. Jo had noticed during practices that Benny was good at following orders when working out, and that he responded to her stricter coaching really well. But she had also noticed that when she praised him, he seemed to get an extra boost of energy, and usually performed even better after that. It was as if the hard training kept him focused and sharp, but a few compliments helped free his creativity more. She wanted to keep the compliments genuine though, and not overdo it.

They still ended up underwater more often than not, but they were starting to get the hang of it at least. They were both tired and had wet hair plastered to their faces as they stood there catching their breaths before a new try.

Benny brushed his hair back from his eyes in the way men do in commercials and Jo found herself staring. He looked unreasonably good like this when she was sure she was a total mess. His blue eyes were shining brighter than the water, and the droplets on his chest made her eyes follow their trajectory downward. Oh boy was she staring. How to stop, though?

“Hello?” Benny’s voice was trying to pull her out of her thoughts. “Jo?”

That was the first time he had called her that, and not her full name. She lifted her head to meet his gaze again, and she was sure her face greatly resembled a tomato.

She didn’t know what to do to save the situation when she was so obviously caught ogling. So she splashed him.

Benny spluttered. “Oh, really? That what you wanna do?” he asked with a big grin.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jo said, and splashed him again.

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna regret that,” he laughed, and started swimming after her.

Then it was a mess of screaming, laughing, splashing, trashing, and wrestling in the water. Jo was breathless from laughing and the exertion, and she couldn’t remember having that much fun in weeks. She was no match for Benny’s strength, though. He caught her, lifting her up and threatening to throw her back in the water. (Which was essentially what they had done all evening, but this was a different situation entirely.)

“I surrender, you win!” Jo managed to shout out through her giggles.

“Hah, told ya!” Benny gloated as he lowered her back to stand on her own legs.

Suddenly it hit Jo how near each other they were standing, and how very little clothing each of them were wearing, especially Benny. And this was no training situation anymore.

She cleared her throat, avoiding his eyes. “One more go with the lift?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

But the sun was already setting, and it was getting chilly, so they only tried a couple more times before calling it a day.

-

They drove back to the resort, Jo sitting on Benny’s hoodie to protect the car like he promised. The radio was playing again, both of them still making jokes and talking, but this time there was also a different kind of tension in the air. Tomorrow they would have time to practice a little during the day and then it would be time for the performance. But Jo wasn’t sure the tension she felt was just performance jitters.

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

tagsies: @writeforfandoms @starlightmornings @lorecraft @niki-xie@salome-c @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @sgnjimmy @marvelousmermaid @velocibee @killyspinacoladas

[parkers-gal]

Hi! May I request an imagine where Tom meets an Indian who’s sort of on the path to be a paediatrician?? But she’s like, 3-4 years younger than him?? And like, both of them are attracted to each other n they sort of start dating??

Love your blog! I’ve read pretty much everything you write! Lots of love to you!! 💛💛

requests are open

wc: 1.5k

—

Growing up, you were always lost on what you would do with your life. You’d seen friends and family discover their passions, the very reason they live and exist.. Time and time again, you thought you came close to finding out your own, but each path was a dead end, each lead and false tip. 

That was, until you volunteered at a children’s hospital that one winter break your parents were away on business. A light flicker inside you, and you knew that was what you were meant to do. Leaving the hospital that day, you pulled up your browsers and stayed up in bed until three A.M., researching and reading about all the doctors that helped children. Perhaps it was your fire, burning so bright and passionately, that granted you access, that paved your path to college and a career for life. Or perhaps it was your heart, loving and nurturing and relentless. It never gave up when something it loved came into view. You knew deep down, in your gut, that it was a bit of both. 

But to you, this wasn’t a career. This wasn’t merely just a passion. It was your life for theirs. Your privilege, through the hardships and the struggles and the heaviest tears, it was your brain that was your privilege. But your heart held just as much responsibility as your mind did. 

Tom was no different, at that. Acting started as a job, it started as continuing his love for dance and theater. But as he grew, so did his heart. Acting wasn’t just a task of learning how to control one’s emotions. To him, it was a creative expression. It was perspective on life. It was living a life someone dreamed they could’ve had. And no, not as a celebrity, but as the characters. He often thought about how Peter Parker could have been a figment of Stan Lee’s imagination. That the small, nerdy Parker boy was a life Stan Lee wanted but never truly got. Tom pondered a lot of things, but he never once wished he could have another life. 

College is harsh. Relentless. It’s a true reality of life, and with the pressure of your parents to do well, you could only pray you would do well. You had been studying for weeks now, finals coming closer with every passing day. You were due for a break, and mind release. You had signed up for your yearly volunteer during winter break. Your roommate rolled her eyes when you told her; she was unsurprised. 

Apparently this year, there would be a few special guests. You were happy to share the children, happy the hospital could bring in more people for the kids that deserved the world but could only get a fraction of it. You swore on your life, on your grave, that you’d give them as much of the world as you could. 

**

You were giving the world to them today. Dressing in thick leggings and a sweater, you grabbed your puffer coat as you left campus. The drive to the hospital was short and speedy. You greeted Katherine as you came in, hooking your coat on the coat hanger in the back room. 

“Hey, Y/N. It’s good to see you. How’s college?”

“Stressful,” you chuckled. 

“But worth it?” “Always worth it,” you smiled. 

“The ‘guest stars’ will be here soon,” she moved a few clipboards, taking the papers attached to them. “I think they’re bringing things.”

“Oh that’s awesome,” you exhaled. “We need more presents.”

“More?” Katherine chuckled. “You’ve practically emptied your bank account for them.” 

“Because my parents would totally allow that,” you eyed her. The two of you chuckled together, setting up a few things. 

Katherine was five and a half years older than you. She’d worked at the hospital for awhile though, replacing a nurse who retired. She was young when she started, but the retired nurse had requested her, recommended her, and the hospital didn’t want to waste time on looking for someone else. You’d practically grown up with her; she’d been a volunteer in college while you were finishing high school. 

“They’re here,” Nate popped his head in through the door. You and Katherine exchanged looks before going up front to greet them. 

“Hi, I’m Kevin Fiege, I’m here with the cast of Spider-man Homecoming. We’re here for the meets I emailed about?”

“Yes hi,” Katherine stepped forward while you shied away from a brunette’s glances. His jeans and sweater were on loosely, and you assumed he probably had a costume on under. He was holding a mask. “I’m Katherine, the one you emailed.” They shook hands and smiled politely, the boy’s eyes never leaving sight of your figure. “Shall we get started then?” the man, Kevin as he addressed himself, suggested.

“Yes, of course,” she rushed out, glancing at you with wide eyes before the two of you chuckled. 

A lighter skinned, tall girl stepped forward. You recognized her. “Hi, I’m Zendaya. I play MJ.”

The two of you shook hands, and she did the same thing with Nate and Katherine and a few other nurses. One by one, each cast member introduced themselves before eventually, the brunette came forward. 

“Hi, I’m Tom,” he shook your hand, his fingers lingering against yours. “You are… ?”

“Y/N,” you filled in, biting your bottom lip. 

“That’s really pretty,” he blushed slightly despite being the one who gave the compliment.

“Thank you,” you breathed a laugh, stepping back and in your rightful spot next to Katherine. 

Throughout the day, you noticed Tom through the corner of your eyes, lingering and watching quietly, gazing as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how, or what. You enjoyed the cast’s company; they were great for the kids. By the end of it, it was nearly eight o’clock, time for ritual medications before bedtime. 

The cast stood in the lobby, Tom in his suit talking to Jacob, Zendaya talking to Nate while Katherine finished up with Kevin. You emerged from the elevator, having just said your goodnights and goodbyes to the children. 

“You gonna head out, Y/N/N?” Katherine stopped talking to Kevin to ask you the query over all the chatter. 

You nodded with a smile, removing the Division 1 Volunteer lanyard from around your neck. “Yeah, I told my mom I’d call her before it gets too late.”

“You and your parents,” she sighed, handing another clipboard over for Kevin to read. “Are you ever gonna let them go?”

You chuckled, “I think the real question is are they ever gonna let me go?” 

“Touche,” she laughed. “Say goodbye on your way out,” she motioned her head towards the cast. You glanced at them, they smiled, and you nodded towards her, grabbing your coat from its hook. 

“It was really nice having you all here,” you smiled. “Thank you so much for coming; it meant a lot to the kids and to me.” 

You saw Tom glancing outside, and without thinking, he stepped forward with a smile. “Let me walk you to your car.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you laughed lightly. 

“Please, it’s dark out. It’ll only be a few minutes,” he smiled. “It’s no trouble, really.”

“Tom’s always doing that,” Zendaya rolls her eyes. “He’s that one in a million gentlemen.” Her arms crossed as she laughed. “Just let him take you; he won’t take no for an answer.”

You had a feeling they were talking about something else, but nonetheless, you let him accompany you. You waved to Kath one last time before walking through the doors with Tom by your side. 

“How long have you been volunteering?”

“Since the summer before my junior year of highschool.”

He hummed. “How old are you?”

“I just turned nineteen,” you walked over a puddle. “How old are you?”

“I’m 21.” 

You hummed just as he had. You saw your car near, and you were almost sad your encounter with Tom would end soon. You doubted you’d ever see him again after this, even if he did remember today. 

“Listen I was wondering,” he spoke as you placed your bag into the backseat of your car — it wasn’t actually your car. It was your mom’s old one, she’d gotten it when she first moved to your childhood home. Convincing her you should have it was a nightmare. You focused on Tom. “If maybe… we could go out sometime? Sorry if this is totally unprofessional and if I’m completely reading this wrong or somethi-”

“No no-!” you cut him off before stopping shortly. “You didn’t. I’d- I’d love to go out with you sometime.”

“Great,” he said softly before repeating it more confidently. He handed you his cell phone gingerly, and you typed away in the bitter cold, smiling as you handed it back. 

“I’ll- I’ll call you tonight. Af- after your parents.” You giggled. “Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered just as he stepped away. You smiled to yourself, opening the car door. 

[doyumacy]

FALLOUT |LH| TWO

gif not mine

PAIRING: donghyuck x reader bodyguard!donghyuck

WARNINGS: mentions of yuta. swearing, blood (i’ll let you know when there are parts with blood mentions), smut (let you know), violence, angst

WORD COUNT: 2,9K

ONE TWO THREE

It had been a week since Donghyuck was working as your personal bodyguard and things were apparently going well. The threats had stopped, but they didn't want to let their guard down in case something happened.

Donghyuck and you had got a little closer since they used to spend quite a lot of time together. One night, you left the office at one o'clock in the morning and after Donghyuck insisted you eat something, you ended up eating at a stall in a street in downtown Seoul.

You took the opportunity to get to know each other a little bit better and Donghyuck told you that he wanted to be a music producer and went to music school, but his father never approved it and had to devote himself to what he did.

On the other hand, you shared that you never thought of becoming a CEO. You always pictured yourself a baker and having a small bakery, but somehow you weren't a great baker. He found it very interesting how the tables turned.

On Wednesday, Donghyuck arrived earlier than normal and you extended your hand and shook his, greeting him, pleased to note how firm and strong his handshake was. Why did a handshake suddenly seem so much more evocative? You had shaken hundreds, thousands, of men’s hands and none, not even your ex-partners, had a touch that brought shivers to your spine like that.

Maybe that day wouldn’t be so bad after all. You thought. 

You had been told that one of your negotiations had been called off and they notified you right after you arrived at their building. What a waste of time.

“Ma’am, I was wondering if we could discuss you using the underground entrance from now on?” Donghyuck inquired.

No, it was still a bad morning. With one question, the attractive bodyguard brought on you wrath and was anything but attractive to you anymore. How many times have you instructed the driver and the staff that you were going to continue to enter the Genesis Intelligence Headquarters. 

And how many times did you need to remind Donghyuck to call you (Y/N), not “Ma’am“?

“I’m late for a meeting,” you snapped. You turned on your shoes and started towards the building.

As irritated as you were, you were still aware of the presence of the well-built Donghyuck a few steps behind you and caught a glimpse of him in the window’s reflection as you entered the building. Hmmm, you sighed. «Even if he does annoy me, he is still lovely to look at.»

In your irritation and your attempt to get back on schedule, you lost sight of Donghyuck for the next ninety minutes. The 9:30 meeting to which you were late did not go well. Again.

As you exited the meeting to take his 10:00 call, Lia approached you. “I’ve confirmed your slot with  Lee Youngjoon for tomorrow, but Nakamoto Yuta wants to see you at 10:45 this morning, instead of 11:30. He insisted.”

You frowned. Yuta? You hadn't heard or seen him in a year and suddenly he wanted a meeting with you?

You glanced at your watch. It was just shy of 10:00. If you were lucky, you could take your call and still make it to 10:45.

“Why?” You demanded.

“I don’t know, but he was very persistent.” Lia came to the response.

“Fine. Make sure to update security on the change in plans,” You instructed Lia. “Thanks, Lia.”

Fifteen minutes later, while in the middle of your 10:00 call, Donghyuck knocked on her door. Oh right, him. He entered your office without waiting for your response. You glared at him as you put your call on hold. 

“Ma’am, we need to be leaving for your meeting if you want to make it on time.”

“I’m afraid you have the time wrong. We have another fifteen minutes and I need to finish this call.”

“No, ma’am. We need to take an alternate route. If we don’t leave now, you’ll be late.”

You continued glaring at Donghyuck. “Why? What’s wrong with our regular route? I could walk there faster than what you’re proposing.”

“I don’t doubt that ma’am, but I would advise against it. It’s all for your safety, ma’am.”

It seemed unlikely that you would win on this one. You ended your call, gathered your things, and followed Donghyuck to the elevators, where he selected the basement level rather than the ground floor. You shook your head and sighed. Once the elevator stopped, Donghycuk led you through to the underground entrance, where your car was waiting.

“Donghyuck, this will be the first and only time you have me use the underground entrance, do you understand?“ Your  tone was scathing. 

Donghyuck nodded in silence and as he held open the car door for you, your hand accidentally brushed against his and you couldn’t help but catch a whiff of his cologne. You froze. For three seconds, the world stopped. You were distracted by how attractive Donghyuck was. You almost didn’t want to move. You wanted to be as close to him as possible, for as long as possible.

Your reverie was broken by the sound of a car horn somewhere else in the garage. You felt a rush of heat flood to your cheeks. You slid down into his seat as Donghyuck closed the car door, hoping that he hadn’t noticed any of this. That behaviour, those reactions, were completely out of character. Even after the car started moving, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

…

“You look as beautiful as usual, sweetheart,” Yuta greeted you planting a kiss on your cheek.

“It’s nice to see you, too,” you told him.

Yuta clicked his tongue, not sure what if he had done something wrong. “Come.” With that, you walked into his office,, leaving the door open. Donghyuck gave you a look and stood right in the door, turning his back on you.

“Since when do you have a dog following you around?” Yuta raised an eyebrow, sitting on his chair, eyeing Donghyuck. “I think I’ve seen him before.”

“He’s my bodyguard, not my dog,” you corrected him and sat in front of him. “And why don't you ask him?

Yuta shook his head. “Maybe he was someone else’s dog before you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why did you want to see me?”

“Because I missed you.”

“Cut the crap.”

Yuta giggled. “You’re really having a bad day, huh? What happened?”

You sighed and relaxed on the chair. “The guy from Hong Kong called off the negotiation this morning and I was counting with that money for the new software we were going to launch next year. And he fucking called me right when I was outside the building!”

“I warned you about him, sweetie.”

“That’s the last thing I need right now, Yuta,” you glanced at him.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he nodded. “What if I invest in it?”

“You?” You looked at him. “Why would you do that? We’re literally direct competition.”

“We could launch it together. Right now your A.I is one of the best in the market, and I’m not gonna lie: I’m a bit jealous,” he admitted. “You combine tasks such as teaching self-driving cars to avoid accidents, assessing damage of a natural disaster, and detecting parking lot usage. This is all done through drone and satellite imagery.”

“Who in hell would've come up with that?” Yuta looked at you. “I can help you penetrate the Japanese market and get even bigger.”

You bite your lip. It’s true, during the last year you did everything to crack the Japanese market but failed and since Yuta’s company was a large and established company there, he could help you.

“You are really willing to negotiate with me?” You asked him.

He nodded. “I’ve known you for many years and I have followed your work. I’m pretty sure Genesis Intelligence could take over Industrial artificial intelligence.”

You stayed quiet for a couple of seconds and stood up walking around his office. “I need to think about it. You’re my friend and I don’t want business to screw things up.”

Yuta laughed and stood next to you placing a hand on your shoulder. “If sex didn’t screw things up neither will this.”

“Oh my, God. Shut up,” you hissed, looking to where Donghyuck was standing. He didn't even seem to move. You looked back at Yuta. “I’m gonna leave.”

Yuta chuckled and caressed your shoulders. “Stay, it’s been so long since we saw each other.”

You squint your eyes looking at him. “I’m not gonna fuck with you in your office.”

“I never said anything about fucking, but if you want me to bend you over my d-” You placed a hand on his mouth to stop him from talking and sighed. 

“I’ll tell my assistant to call you so we can arrange a meeting soon with the rest of the staff,” you told him and grabbed your purse.

“I’m looking forward,” he smirked.

You nodded and started making your way out of the office when he called you. “(Y/N)?”

You turned around. “Yes?”

“Your ass looks incredibly hot today in those dress pants,” he smiled at you.

“Good afternoon, Yuta,” you said leaving his office.

Donghyuck started walking behind you, escorting you and didn’t understand why the comments Yuta made got him upset. Was he your boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend, perhaps? Your lover?

Why did he even care? It wasn't as if he was interested in you. He had a task he must comply with. Just another job. That's what this was supposed to be. He had done it dozens of times, killed someone for money, that is. He'd earned a reputation among others in his trade for being discreet, efficient, and the ability to make it look like an accident. He quite enjoyed it, too. It was an outlet for his creativity and frustration and he had a lot to be frustrated about.

You two were sharing the enclosed, confined space of a gaudy elevator. The metal around you was pristine, without a single smudge to be seen. Directly behind you, it seemed a ceiling to floor mirror was installed over the wall of the elevator... For what reason, Donghyuck sure. He wasn't much of an aestheticist anyway, prefered things to be plain or simple in design.

There was an awkward silence and you cursed Yuta’s building which had 25 floors. The ride was long.

“So… Mr. Nakamoto and you?” Donghyuck broke the silence. You looked at him, frowning. “Right, sorry. It’s none of my business.”

You scratched your forehead and then snickered leaning against the metal wall. “I’m guessing you heard our conversation. Sorry about that.”

“No, please. I apologise. Again, it’s none of my business, ma’am.”

“Yuta and I used to… be really good friends,” you looked at him. “That’s in the past, and it’s even more buried now that we’re gonna be partners. It wouldn't be ethical.”

Donghyuck nodded. “Got it, ma’am.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “You need to stop calling me ‘ma’am. I feel like a 50 year old woman.”

“Sorry ma’am, but you don't look anything like a 50 year old woman,” Dongyuck glanced at you.

Your overactive imagination can’t help but bring that off-handed comment to life inside your head. You smiled. "Thank you. So, will you stop calling me that?"

"No."

You sighed. "Please?"

Donghyuck laughed lightly. “You worry too much about that.”

“Yes,” You didn't deny it. “It's strange. You're only 2 years older than me and are ma'aming me everyday.”

Donghyuck smirked at the word you used. “You’re my boss. I’m just being professional.”

Your mouth opened to speak, but the elevator suddenly shook, the lights flicker, and you stumbled. Donghyuck reacted without hesitation, sidestepping to make sure that you fall into his chest instead of to your knees. The emergency light of the elevator turned on, and you two shared a glance at each other.

“Did it break?” A stupid question, you're sure.

Donghyuck hummed, stepping away from you and towards the elevator door before banging a fist against it. He checked the elevator buttons, then leaned back to glance up at the dial above the door - you're stuck between the sixth and fifth floor. Donghyuck pulled out his cellphone and groaned. "I have no signal."

You breathed a couple of times and looked at him. "Am I under attack?  Am I gonna get killed here? Did someone plan this?!"

"Hey, hey," Donghyuck cupped your face with his hands and stared at you. "It's just a shut down. You're okay, nothing will happen to you as long as you're with me."

You nodded and closed your eyes trying to relax. Donghyuck's hands around your face felt like heaven; they were warm and soft. You opened your eyes again just to see a Donghyuck still staring at you. You could drown in that look. "Better?"

"Yeah, thank you," you whispered.

Donghyuck let go of your face and you hated the feeling of emptiness he left. 

The bright lights flickered on and made you squint. You clapped your hands together cheerfully, turning to look at the dial over the door that begins to move again. “Oh, thank God!"

“Told you,” Donghyuck smiled at you. “Shall we?”

“Yeah.”

…

Your hands moved from his shoulders to the top button of his shirt. As you slowly unfastened button after button, your piercing eyes met his. Donghyuck thought he might come just from the intensity of your look and the feel of your fingers opening up his shirt. Donghyuck’s fingers grazed across your stomach and you shivered. Your hands moved around to Donghyuck's back, underneath his shirt. You pulled him closer to you, but not close enough that your lower halves touched. In fact, it appeared that he intentionally stopped their lower halves from touching. In one quick movement, you had Donghyuck shirtless. He barely registered when you started kissing his neck and then his chest with soft kisses.  When your hands reached the top of his pants, you slipped them between the fabric and his skin. Grabbing the top of your ass, he finally pulled his lower half in contact with your lower half...

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Donghyuck awoke with a start. His breath erratic, his heart racing. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was and what was happening. Donghyuck looked around his room, around his bed. Both were empty, as always. It was a dream. Just a dream. You weren’t there. 

He groaned when realised someone had woken up very ‘pleased’ that morning. Donghyuck ran a hand through his hair and got out of bed walking to the bathroom and taking care of his ‘problem’ and getting ready to go to work.

And that same night, you sat in the venue dressing room where you were about to make a speech, reviewing your notes. Donghyuck stood silent and still by the hallway door. 

Lia entered the room, carrying several cups of coffee and a bag of food. It was about damn time. You had requested the coffee as soon as you got there; what had taken her so long? You had less than ten minutes to down the cup of decaf. 

After having two sips of coffee, the venue manager called you so you could wait backstage since you would be on it in 5 minutes. 

As the presenter made his little speech, you tried to crack your fingers for the third time in the day. You were nervous and Donghyuck noticed it. “If you keep trying to do that you’re gonna end up with no bones to crack for the rest of your life.”

“Huh?” You looked at him and then giggled. “Sorry, it’s just that… I’m nervous.”

“I never thought you were the nervous type when it came to speeches,” he said.

“It’s not about giving the speech, it's about who is here,” you sighed.

“And that is?” Donghyuck raised both eyebrows.

“My father.” You admitted.

“He 's here?” 

You nodded and your eyes went to the crowd looking for him until you spotted him. “Do you see the man with the grey suit and a black tie, surrounded by 4 guards?”

Donghyuck’s eyes slyly followed yours and found the man you were talking about. He knew him from somewhere. He squinted to have a better look of his face and froze when he recognised. There was no way.

“... he technically is my father, but left my mom when I was a newborn and never came back. And 3 years ago he contacted me telling me he’s interested in my business but I have no plans to sell it or make a partnership by any means…”

Donghyuck was aware you were talking to him but he couldn’t stop looking at the man, or your father. Why would he want you dead? So he could take over your business? That was evil. 

“Right?” You looked at him and shook your hand in front of him. “Donghyuck? Are you alright?”

“Yeah… yeah,” he shook his head and gave you a warm smile. “I was just… shocked to know he’s your father.”

“He’s a businessman with relations pretty much everywhere,” you said, “he’s so judgmental of my work but hasn’t even bothered to get to know me better. I guess he’s a natural dick.”

“He is… I mean, you’re great. He should feel lucky to have you, but he doesn’t appreciate that.” He looked at you. “You turned out great without him.”

“That’s what my mom says,” you beamed. “I should relax, what can he do to ruin me? Nothing.”

He gulped. Little did you know.

[angelkurenai]

Cheesy fanfics - Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Cheesy fanfics

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 3,520

Warnings: Spoilers for 15x20 I guess

Prompt: Hey! Thought I'd help your creativity out a little bit! How about "I almost asked you out in Winter Ball back in highschool but I chickened out and now it's Christmas and we're both alone and single so maybe this is a second chance?" Very Hallmark Movie esque, but I have faith in your creativity and am sure you're gonna kill it (if you choose to do it of course!). Hope it helps!

“You have to be kidding me.” you gasped, pressing a hand over your mouth as your eyes widened “Dean? Is that really you?”

“Depends, do I still look like the guy you remember? Or am I the old ass idiot I saw in the mirror this morning?” he joked, almost giving himself a pat on the shoulder for how playful he sounded and how he didn't trip over his words.

He had tripped over the cereal the moment he saw you, already, anyway. He was glad you had not noticed him at that moment because with his luck, he would have made an even worse fool of himself and ended up on the floor faster than could be humanly possible. But, in his defense, they weren't even supposed to be there and the moment he saw you, looking so damn beautiful as if not a single day had passed, he had been floored in any way that mattered other than literally.

“Oh shut up and come here, you asshole.” you scoffed, pretending to give him a glare but the smile that was on your lips was too bright for his mind to register anything else in the first place. It was all he could think about, all his treacherous heart could think of as it danced around like crazy in his chest.

“Ah hell, it's been so long.” he chuckled as well, letting his arms wrap around your form, his entire body melting on the spot as you squeezed him close to you “Too long.” he whispered, mostly to himself as he gave a squeeze in return, your body fitting perfectly with his the way it always did “I understand now though.”

He finally pulled away, though he let his arms rest on you for a few more seconds; just like he had let the hug last a bit longer than needed. It was self-indulgent, he knew it, but if he let himself memorize the way your body fit in his arms after all this time, then nobody could blame him.

“You understand?” you tilted your head to the side, and he almost felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs in that very moment. To look at you from this up close again, still in his arms, and to realize all over again just how easy it had been for him to fall for you in high school, it was inevitable that you could steal his breath away in a matter of seconds.

He cleared his throat “You didn't expect to see me all old and wrinkly. You expected to see the ghost of me, coming by to say Merry Christmas.”

“Well, you're not exactly wrong on that. Although, I didn't expect and certainly far from hoped it would be your ghost I saw this Christmas. Maybe some unlucky folk that died years ago.” you said with a soft shrug, voice low but tone as casual as talking about the weather. Fact which had not changed over the years and which brought a pleasant kind of warmth through Dean's chest, making him chuckle deeply.

“Well, thank you for your thoughtfulness. I've gotten close to that once or twice, can't deny it, but-” he noticed you stiffening up in his arms “All is good. In fact, it's better than it's ever been. You'll see. I'll get to tell you about it hopefully, one day.”

“Hopefully soon.” you said softly, nodding your head as you finally took a step backwards to put some distance between you because even though you'd have loved to stay like that forever, Dean had always been a a friend to you – a good one, yes, but one that had no idea about your feelings for him – and also because you were currently standing in the middle of the aisle as it was “Before you disappear without a single word for the next couple years or so, I suppose.”

“Yeah I uh- Well, you've got a point there. I'm-” he stopped himself, swallowing thickly over the lump in his throat “I'm really sorry about that. I- I wanted to- You have no idea how much I wanted to contact you but shit just kept getting crazier and I... I couldn't drag you into it.”

“What?” you whispered “No, no Dean, I didn't mean- That's not why I said it. I'm not mad nor do I blame you for it. No more so than I could blame life, both yours and mine. I mean, you could have always vanished without a single warning.”

“I wouldn't do that. I would never do that to you. You're too-” he stopped himself, clearing his throat “You've always been too important to me.” he confessed softly “I should just assume that I am somewhat important to you too, right? Given that I'm not a ghost by your own hand right now.”

“Hmm let's give it some time, shall we? Wait till about the end of the day to see how it turns out.” you said with a smirk, and a chuckle following soon “That is... if you will be around for that long?”

“Oh I actually plan to be around here for a lot longer than that. I mean-” he tried to hide his own giddiness when he saw the way your eyes widened and sparkled with happiness “It's Christmas, isn't it? People are celebrating and spending time with their loved ones and eating too much and watching sappy movies and I was never particularly one for the latter but it doesn't sound so bad to me.”

“You mean you're... on vacation? No ghost or vamp's got you here?” you frowned deeply.

“No, I uh I've actually been... trying to get a bit away from that. I am on vacation now, yes, but besides that I... Well, I don't do that anymore.” he said with a small shrug, not sure why he felt almost self-conscious about it “Not- Not hunting. I mean, yes, hunting. But-” he cleared his throat, taking great notice of the surprise if not shocked look you gave him “It's not like I am out. I'm more... slowly getting out of it. Taking fewer cases, looking for an actual job, you know that kind of stuff. There are fewer cases in general anyway.”

“And going on vacation, apparently.” you noted with a small smile, voice almost breathless in disbelief, and he nodded his head.

“And got a dog.” he pointed out with a grin, loving to see your eyes widen before a a wide smile spread on your lips. Gosh how he loved that smile. Always had and always would.

“Wow. Dean, that's really- wow.” you confessed, blowing out a soft breath “To tell you the truth, that was really the last thing I expected to hear. But certainly the best one too.”

“Thank you.” he smiled, and boy had he missed the way you could make his heart beat inside his chest “It's actually been so long, so much had happened since we last spoke.”

“Yeah no kidding.” you laughed “This- wow. That's incredible news, Dean. So...” you looked down shyly for a second, as if unsure “What really made you make the choice at last? The Dean I remembered didn't even see this as a chance. To get out of the life, it seemed like an impossible dream back then. Any... particular reason why now?”

“You could say that.” he nodded his head, struggling to hold back a grin when he saw the nervousness on your features, the eagerness and doubt to hear what he had to say. And it wasn't because he loved torturing you but because there was always a small part of him that held onto hope, that after all these years had not let go of you and his feelings for you, and that small- alright, great part of him, wanted to know if you were interested in him. Just like he had hoped and waited back then, trying to understand if you really had feelings for him. He had been so hesitant, unsure if he should really try his luck or if he was going to ruin the best thing he'd gotten in his whole life. In the end, he had chickened out and lost his only chance.

Or maybe so he thought. Because looking at you look at him in that way made him believe, hope even, that maybe there really were second chances in life. All he had to do was figure it out.

“Not- not that there is a person in my life that made me leave all that behind, no.” he chuckled “I'm still as single as you remember. That much hasn't changed.” he said with a half smile, feeling his heart flutter in his chest when he saw relief flood your features and your shoulders relax “It's just that, well-” he shrugged “Fighting against the devil, meeting his son and most recently beating god, well, that can change someone.”

“God as in...?” you blinked in surprise and he shrugged once more.

“Ah yeah, the big G. It was no big deal, but it had to be done, you know? He was a dick. Now somebody else is running heaven. The devil's son as I told you, he's family though so that's great. But that's a long story, I'll probably tell you another time.” he brushed it off “So yeah, as you see, things did change. And Sam and I are more free now, that's why we decided to really do what we like, honestly.”

“Yeah that really is a lo-”

“Oh and I killed Hitler, so you're welcome for that, by the way.”

“...Thank you?” you blinked, tilting your head to the side in confusion “I- Honestly, Dean, I was gonna ask if you mean it or not but knowing you? I'm fairly sure you're not joking here. And just because I wouldn't like to freak out in the middle of the market and look like some lunatic, I'm gonna change the subject yeah? Good. So-” you cleared your throat “What are your plans for the holidays? Seeing as you are in town.”

A deep chuckle left his lips and he nodded his head “Yeah, that's a better topic. Uhm honestly, haven't thought that far yet. I was just driving with Miracle, that's my dog by the way, and decided to stop by here to do some shopping without Sam shoving his rabbit food in my cart, you know?” he said, leaving out the part where seeing as the holidays were right around the corner he couldn't stop thinking about you - just like he did every time that time of the year - and drove back to the town he had first met you in hopes (and possibly with a lot of wishful thinking) that he could see you even from far away. It had not worked out in his favor the past couple times, he didn't expect it to happen this year but here he was and here you were and he felt worse than a child on Christmas' day. Giddy and buzzing with excitement and nerves, almost lightheaded the longer he looked at you.

“And you?” he asked after a few second, even though he would have been content looking at you and taking everything in forever “You got me carried around talking about my life and you didn't tell me a thing about yourself. Anything... interesting going on? I don't suppose you plan on spending the holidays all alone?... Besides your family and friends I mean.”

“Alone? No, of course not. I've got the most handsome and loyal man waiting for me at home. So I'm picking out whatever I can for the both of us now.” you grinned and he was almost sure you too could hear his heart shutter inside his chest, at least before you spoke up again “Yeah, I might have a bit trouble since I don't know what he likes yet but I think he'd find it easier to communicate with Miracle than with me, so I improvise.” you shrugged with a grin “I got a puppy a couple months ago as well.”

“Oh oh!” he blinked in surprise, his hands shaking in relief as a smile that made his cheeks hurt got plastered on his face “That's great! I remember you always wanted one. It's so great to see you finally got that. So you... I assume, you don't got... someone else then? I- I mean, not that it would have been a shock. Any guy should thank their lucky stars to have you by their side.”

“Nah no guy in my life like that. It's been a while actually. I'm just as single as you this Christmas, I'm starting to think there must be a pattern. Just like it happened back in high school, when we first met.”

“With the only difference that you're always the pretty one out of the two of us. I mean-” he laughed “Look at you, all these years have passed and you remain as beautiful as then if not more. It looks like not a single day has passed.” he breathed out the small confession, letting some of his truth slip into his words as he admired you. Things he had not been able to tell you back then slipped from his lips in a matter of seconds, though not any more easily.

“Yeah, as if.” you scoffed a laugh, looking down with a shake of your head “Besides, I remember someone else being the most popular kid in the school, even if you were the new guy. I mean, you had all the girls practically begging for a single look from you Dean. It was as if you were some god walking amongst us, even with some of that bad boy attitude. It had never been like that for me and the boys, heck I can't even remember a single guy that looked at me like I was a goddess or anything.”

If only you had decided to turn your head and take a look at him then you would get to see that and so much more. He had always looked at you as if you had put the stars up in the sky for him. Sam's words, not his. And if he had scarred off any guy with a single look or a couple more words during that time, it wasn't because he was acting worse than a territorial Alpha. Again Sam's words. The kid did talk a lot, yes, Dean had decided early on back in high school.

“I mean-” another laugh from you brought him back to the present “It's no surprise that none of the guys asked me out in Winter Ball back in high school, I didn't make it easier with how closed off I was back then.” and Dean and his looks didn't make it easier for the few that were about to ask either “So I'm cool with being alone this Christmas too. But what's really surprising is how someone like you is. I mean, you didn't go to that Winter Ball with anyone either, I remember that correctly?”

“No uh yeah, you're right. I never went to that one with anyone. Even though some girls-” he stopped himself before shaking his head, a laugh slipping past his lips as he he looked down for a moment.

“What?” you asked with a sweet grin and he almost caved right then and there. Or maybe he did, maybe he should at last.

“I just- I never realized my life was such a bad Hallmark Movie. I mean, I always thought it was a tragedy but no, gosh, it's a sappy Christmas movie.” he laugh, shaking his head in disbelief, taking in your laugh and the way it made his heart flutter.

“Why do you say that?”

“I mean-” he paused, he could take it back, he could change it, come up with something else and all this would be forgotten but then... then another chance would be lost again and this, this was not the same life anymore; he was not the same man, or better yet he was finally the man he wanted to be with a life he wanted and had full control over “I mean to say that... I almost asked you out in Winter Ball back in highschool because I've always had feelings for you but- but I chickened out and now it's Christmas and we're both alone and single, so maybe this is some second chance? Cause if it ain't that, then, it sure is a sappy movie or a cheesy fanfic... with a bad ending.”

The words were out before he could take them back. And part of him felt proud for himself, after years of endless pining and daydreaming - clearly Sam's words, thank you very much - he never thought there would come a day when he said all of this and yet here he was. Another part of him, a greater part, felt terrified. You looked at him with wide eyes, lips parted in shock and he had to hold himself from taking it back. He had lost one chance he wasn't going to lose this one too, no matter the outcome. And the outcome he did fear especially when there were no words coming out of you. His heart was pounding in his chest, all of his blood rushing in his ears and his lungs hurting because of how long he was holding his breath. His worry was slowly but surely turning into fear, however before he could say anything - not to take it back but to make you feel less bad about having to turn him down. It was an option, very plausible given how much of a catch you were as opposed to him, you spoke up.

“Or...” you spoke softly, playing nervously with the sleeve of your sweater “Or there is a third option, you know. I mean-” you shrugged and he felt like he was forever holding his breath, waiting for you to look into his eyes, holding his gaze for a few seconds before you spoke up “I always liked fanfics with happy endings?” before he could get to question you, you pointed upwards. And as his eyes followed yours, he did take notice of what you previously had. He blinked in surprise a soft laugh leaving his lips.

“Personally, I love cheesy movies or fanfics.” you said and looked back at you he noticed the shy grin that was on your lips and he made him feel 18 all over again “And if that mistletoe hasn't been there all this time... then, well, I think the new guy that's running heaven is really having a fit with our lives right now.”

“I don't know, I will really have to ask him next time I see him I think. Sam did love to tell him about my endless pinning and daydreaming every time Christmas was around.” a heartfelt laugh made his chest rumble, pleasant tingles filling up his entire body especially as he heard you giggle.

“Did you now? Wow. This day is full of surprises, then.” you bit your lower lip for a moment before adding “Well you what, we're gonna have a family gathering and dinner for the holidays tomorrow. I know it's on short notice but if you'd like to then... you know you're always welcome in my place and-”

“I would love to come, yes.” he breathed out almost embarrassingly fast, but your smile made it all worth it.

“Wonderful!” you grinned You don't need to bring anything, we've got everything, but if you'd wanna you can bring Miracle. And if Sam manages to make it here until tomorrow then he's more than welcome too.”

“Sure, I'll tell him. See if can be here.” he would but he already knew that Sam would do anything to give the two of you more time together so he knew he wouldn't be showing up “The real question here is: Will that aunt of yours be there?”

A beautiful laugh immediately came from your before you looked at him a bit apologetically “For a moment there I thought you'd have forgotten. Yeah, sorry, there's not way to avoid that.”

“So long as I'm not sitting right next to her on the dinner table, I think I will survive.”

“She's gonna keep her hands to herself, I'm sure. Besides-” you shrugged softly, looking up at him through your lashes “I don't think she would hit on my date too.”

“No, I don't think she would either. But in case you need to make it more obvious, kisses are allowed 24/7.” he said with an innocent shrug.

“Ah yes, about that.” you smiled, leaning up to peck his cheek “I would love to give you more, hopefully very soon. Especially in front of the Christmas tree at my own apartment afterwards, while we catch up.”

His eyes widened in surprise and you giggled before he breathed out “Gosh, I freaking love cheesy fanfics.”

[staketheheart]

Noise

Jade was having a damn good dream that was unfairly obliterated when the rhythmic sound chased it away. Her eyes shot open and she tensed, anger quickly clearing away sleep. Not even the comfy warmth Tori gave off next to her calmed her down. She was tired of losing sleep, of the inability to focus on work when her neighbor's creaking bed pierced her peace. She could not fathom why they didn't at least get a new bed if their activities were going to persist at all times of the day. She couldn't count how many times she had to wear earbuds to bed in an effort to drown them out. Or how many times she banged on the wall in a wasted effort to silence them when she couldn't concentrate on her writing. Her creativity greatly suffered, and she lost sleep when it started early in the morning, waking her up hours before her alarm was set to go off. And to make matters worse, Tori was such a heavy sleeper she heard nothing. She was a master at tuning out bothersome sounds, having lived with Trina for so long.

But not Jade. Jade had no tolerance for annoyances. She even 'accidentally' let her stepmother's dog out when it wouldn't stop yapping. The poor animal was found days later down the street by a concerned neighbor who just brought the little beast right back to continue to annoy her. She let out a loud sigh that became a growl, rubbing her eyes. It seemed like she would forever be irritated no matter where she went. She rolled over and slipped her arm around Tori's middle, hugging her close and burying her face in her back. Tori grumbled something in her sleep but continued to snore on, unbothered and leaving Jade to attempt to regain sleep. But she didn't. She stayed awake until her alarm went off, finally waking up Tori. She stretched out, a sleepy smile on her face when she noticed how close Jade held her.

"Well good morning," she mumbled, turning her bright smile on Jade. It slowly fell when she was met with Jade's grumpy scowl, lack of sleep easily recognizable in her eyes.

"Did they bother you again?" Tori asked, resting a hand on Jade's face gently, concern in her frown. Jade only blinked, a brow jumping up incredulously.

"I really don't know how you can sleep through it. Or ignore the chick's obviously fake moaning. I swear, it's like a bad porno is playing on full blast over there. Don't get me started on the headboard shaking the wall because the squeaking bed is enough to drive me nuts as it is. I think I might actually leave a note on their door highlighting just how pissed off I am and demand that they at the least buy a new damn bed," Jade ranted, voice strained with simmering anger. Tori could see it building in the way Jade's jaw muscles flexed, the way her eyes glinted with malicious intent, the way her nostrils flared like a raging bull. She was no stranger to angry Jade. It was turned on her one too many times in high school to not recognize the signs that something bad was about to befall some poor soul. And just as it always has been, it fell to her to try and calm her down.

"Well, you did already key their car and pop their tires. You even scared the crap out of them when you pretended to be attacked and they almost called the police. You're lucky they came over to check on you instead of calling them or you would have been in big trouble," Tori replied, recounting Jade's endeavors to drive away their annoying neighbors.

"And yet, they're still here and still giving me a headache. I mean, I understand. Young couples, newly living together, they can't keep their hands off each other. I've been there. But seriously, if you're going to go at it all day be considerate to other people. These apartment walls aren't soundproof. Seriously, all I ask is a quiet bed and maybe less fake orgasms," Jade continued.

"Jade!" Tori exclaimed, scandalized.

"Tori, you can't disagree, even if you've rarely heard them. We don't even get that obnoxious and you're a freaking tiger in bed," Jade pointed out, causing Tori's blush to get worse. She was currently sitting up against the headboard, gripping the blankets to her chest, eyes wide and face red. She never could get used to the explicit way Jade spoke about things. She was far more conservative concerning private matters.

"Maybe you should say something then?" she suggested, turning to look at Jade. The dark-haired woman turned on her back and glared up at the ceiling.

"If I confront them about it I can't guarantee that I won't hurt them if they refuse to listen," she responded honestly. Tori rolled her eyes. Jade saw it and threw up her hands to let them fall back on either side of her.

"I can't help it. People have this rude habit of annoying me," she said.

"How many times do I have to tell you to be nice? If you just nicely explained the situation, I think they'll be more willing to comply. Threatening them with scissors won't work forever," Tori remarked sagely.

"It's worked so far," Jade responded pointedly. Tori pinched at the bridge of her nose, eyes closed.

"You know being nice is hard for me when people are so stupid or annoying," Jade pressed, propping herself up on an elbow to face Tori who was still frowning.

"Besides, you remember that day I tried to play nice with Moaning Myrtle when we were coming back from our date and she cut us off coming into the gate. I was mad, but I didn't even cuss at her. She apologized and I accepted. Even though I hate pretending to be nice to someone I really just want to throw a brick at," Jade recounted. Tori nodded and shrugged one shoulder, giving her that. It was a better response than allowing a laugh at the nickname she gave the neighbor. That would only encourage her. And Tori didn't want Jade to ruin Harry Potter for her more than she already had.

"The guy is a total dick though. Have you heard his conversations when the bros are invited over and she's gone? I wouldn't mind throwing a brick at him too," Jade added. This time Tori did chuckle. Jade's pout was adorable and her petulant tone added to the affect. Not that she approved of Jade's tantrum. She opened her mouth to offer condolences that would put Jade at ease when the very thing that upset her in the first place started up again. In an instant Jade was up and throwing the blankets off.

"That's it!" she snarled, stomping toward the door. Tori scrambled out of bed to cut her off.

"How about some coffee first? You always say it's a warm and delicious alternative to hating everybody, every morning, forever," Tori hastily reminded her, hands out to stop Jade from advancing. Jade stopped right before she reached the door, staring Tori down. Her expression went from angry to calm and then calculative. Tori didn't like the mischievous smirk that graced her lips seconds later. Like a flip of a switch Jade was eyeing Tori like a panther on the hunt. She fidgeted, her mind racing, trying to come up with a reason for the sudden change.

"I've just thought of a great idea," Jade revealed, stalking closer to reach past Tori to shut the door behind her, while at the same time backing her up until she was then pressed to the closed door.

"Uh, mind letting me in on it?" Tori stammered.

"Gladly, since you're going to help me," Jade answered, resting a warm hand on Tori's waist.

"With what?" Tori asked.

"Revenge," Jade whispered in her ear, body pressed against hers. She shivered.

"That won't solve anything," Tori tried to tell her, biting her lip when Jade's lips pressed to the sensitive spot just under the corner of her jaw.

"You sure about that? It's worth a try," Jade disagreed, moving to bite playfully at Tori's ear. Tori hummed, trying to focus her thoughts, but it devolved into a groan instead. Her thought process struggled. Jade's hands ran up her sides under her shirt then traced back down, making her skin tingle.

"Well, I don't like to call it revenge. Returning the favor sounds nicer," Tori allowed, causing Jade to laugh.

"Whatever you want to call it, Tor," she muttered, pulling her away from the door to relocate against the wall by their bed. The same wall they shared with their annoying neighbors. The squeaking still persisted but Jade planned to make them regret it. She reached up to knock hard on the wall, earning a short pause in the squeaking. As soon as it stopped she turned her attention to Tori.

"I'm sure you know what to do," she murmured, dragging a finger down her front to tug suggestively at her pajama shorts. Tori couldn't help reacting.

"Jade," she gasped. Jade grinned.

"I've never heard a better sound than when you're whimpering my name," Jade purred in her ear, knowing her words would help stoke the fire. Tori groaned and closed her eyes, head falling back and hips pressing into Jade's hands.

"Let's see if we can beat them at their own game," Jade challenged, sealing it with a kiss that quickly escalated into more.

The next morning Jade woke up to peaceful silence. Vaguely she remembered falling asleep to the same silence, Tori wrapped in her arms after another round of blissful revenge. She made sure Tori made her pleasure known and didn't hold back when Tori reciprocated. She wasn't normally rough with Tori, preferring tender passion, but she made sure their own bed complimented their activities. A large, pleased, smile spread across her face. It was the first thing Tori saw when she woke up several minutes later. It remained all through breakfast and grew impossibly bigger when they left their apartment and happened across their annoying neighbors in the parking lot. The couple awkwardly glanced at them and then hastily got in their car. Jade innocently waved at them when they drove by.

She was confident her point was made, but she would gladly improve upon it should they bother her again. Which they did when they got over the first incident. They went right back to it and Jade responded in kind. Until a week later she spotted a delivery man dropping off a rather large box. It looked like the neighbors finally got that new bed. For the first time in over a year Jade could work with focus, get to sleep on time, wake up on time, and enjoy the silence at her leisure. Whether the couple next door picked up on their activities or not remained unknown to Jade. Just as it should be.

"You're ridiculous," Tori told her one night while cuddled into her side, skin pressed against skin. Their own time together had gone back to slow and sweet. Jade chuckled, turning her head to kiss Tori's temple.

"I know," she agreed, proud and unashamed. Tori was just relieved the situation had been resolved without violence this time. To her, that was progress she would be all too happy to encourage.

[rose-icosahedron]

reunition au lore dump

this is a lore dump for a hermitcraft/dsmp au that i brainstormed through asks on @petrichormeraki‘s blog.

So, philza ends up having an affair with a watcher named Ochav (hebrew for star, if you're curious) which results in wilbur and grian who are twins. After disputes between the couple Phil takes Wilbur and leaves, but not Grian because Ochav predicted that might happen and just didn't tell Phil about grian.

This causes Wilbur to grow up with a very strong hate of his mother to a point when his wings grow in the same color as his mother’s, he has techno cut them off. On the other hand Grian also ends up with a fair portion of issues, because watchers are predictably not very good parents. Wilbur grows up hating his mother for abandoning him, grian grows up wishing he could have grown up with his brother and dad.

(part of why watchers aren't very good parents is because players and watchers are fundamentally different beings. Watchers are both very magically powerful, and perfectly content just watching the world go by, often lacking creativity or a drive to create. whereas players while not usually very magically powerful have very strong desires to create. A player raising watcher will not run into many problems, aside from the kid being fairly anti-social, whereas a watcher raising a player will end up not giving the kid anywhere near enough space to express themselves.)

Also, lore on magic. Magic is a natural resource/power source. Any given being is powered by some combination of chemical, magical, and electrical energy. Beings powered by magic have a theoretical ability to manipulate/use magic that is proportional to how much magic they are powered by. Different worlds spawn in with different amounts of magic in them, its basically generated by the world, but at different speeds.(also the watcher home world has next to infinite magic, and how magic works is not really know outside magical communities)

Grian grows up, eventually leaves the watcher homeworld, makes friends with Taurtis, and eventually joins hermitcraft(a world with a lot of natural magic) after a short detour back to the watcher homeworld after evo.

A note, watchers aren't supposed, or really able to get hurt or die. Because of this wilbur and grian should theoretically regenerate from any injury. (that includes wilbur cutting off his wings.)

Wilbur and the rest of his family join dsmp, which happens to be on the low end of the magic spectrum,how low?the collective magic generated by it would be just enough for a watcher. However, wilbur is in fact not the only being who consumes magic on the server. Most humans consume a small amount of magic,not to mention beings like Dream, or angels like Phil or Tommy. Not to mention the fact that Wilbur's body is trying to grow back his wings.

When entering the server, Wilbur notices that something feels off, but because he doesn't know anything about magic, he just shrugs and moves on. Wilbur ends up pulling a lot of the server’s magic, which is still not as much as he needs. This not only causes there to not be enough magic for tommy’s wings to grow in, but its slowly driving wilbur insane.

After Phil kills wilbur, he is now pulling even more magic, now trying to regenerate his entire body, as well as his sanity, when there is barely enough magic to keep wilbur in existence, causing his memory to deteriorate in his ghostly form. In addition, wilbur is now trying to pull so much magic that the outer edges of the server start to deteriorate. Meaning that later when Tommy runs away from Logstedshire he’s actually able to reach the place where the world simulation messes up and he falls right through, ending up in the deep end, where Xisuma finds him.

Tommy spends some time on hermitcraft, healing both from the psychological and physical effects of the war, but also recovering from  the effects of magic deprivation while in his childhood, including his wings growing in.

He ends up spending a lot of time with grian, partially because he’s the only one who can teach him to fly, but also because he feels strangely familary, though Tommy can't place why. While Tommy does occasionally talk about his brother Wil who went a bit insane and is now a ghost, and grian does mention looking for a long lost brother and father, neither of them ever share enough to make the connection.

After a year or so, Xisuma is able to find the server ip that tommy came from, and grian goes to take him back. When tommy logs back into dsmp, phil obviously shows up, happy that of his three sons, at least two of them are alive.(comes running to tommy would be more accurate)

After this, he turns to grian to thank him for bringing Tommy back to him. Grian sees phil and ghostbur, recognises them from the few photos his mom kept around, as well as being able to feel the lack of magic and understand what it is, and responds to this with: 

“actually, i think i brought two of them back, and might have an idea how to get Will back as well”

After much explanation, ghostbur eventually agrees to come to hermitcraft, where he finally starts to regenerate. After much discussion and catching up, Phil does end up going to Ochav and gives her a piece of his mind about not telling him about one of his sons.

That's all i've got for this au so far.

actually, part 2

[ibelieveinharrystyles]

Chapter One: You Bring Me Home

Always Golden Masterlist

August 2019

Harry was lonely, isolated in fact. He was part of an industry full of creative and wonderful people, yet he was still alone. He lay in the bed in Anne’s spare room, staring at the blank ceiling, compared to the ceiling in his childhood bedroom it was lifeless, his old ceiling was covered in marks from all the times he had tried to catapult toys into  the air as a child, convinced they could fly. He really must have been alone if he was that deep in thought about his beloved ceiling. If he was completely honest he had no clue why he was back home, since the fallout with Ashley he had felt lost in London, opting to spend months in Japan and Italy. Half of him hoped he might accidentally bump into her, he knew full well it was Linda’s birthday, and he knew what Ashley was like, she wouldn’t want her mum spending her birthday alone. 

His lonely thoughts were interrupted by a light tap on the door, he shot up as his mum entered the room, “Morning love, I’ve got bacon for sandwiches, but no bread, you couldn’t run down to the bakery could you and grab a loaf?” Anne asked, her charm and grace echoing through the room.

“Of course mum, give me five and I’ll be on my way.” Harry hauled himself out of bed, grabbing the first pair of jeans and a yellow t-shirt from his suitcase. He slipped on a pair of vans and made his way downstairs and out into the early morning summer sun. As much as he loved the big cities he was lucky enough to travel to, Harry always found comfort in Holmes Chapel, maybe it was the people, maybe it was the pace of life, whatever it was, it put him at ease. The walk into the village wasn't a long one, just long enough to listen to a couple of the demos for his next album, something he was incredibly proud of.

“Barbara! Look who it is!” Harry stepped into the bakery, the familiar smell of fresh bread and cakes hitting him almost instantly, “How’ve you been Harry?” Claire asked from behind the counter.

“I’m good, just popped up to see mum for the weekend, she’s run out of bread, so I said I’d grab her a loaf.” Harry explained.

“Well Barbara’s just unpacking some, I’ll see if she has any of Anne’s favourites.” Claire disappeared into the backroom, leaving Harry with no one but the massive poster of teenage him for company. 

“Mummy can I get a rainbow donut?” A young voice asked as the door to the bakery swung open, not wanting to get in anyone’s way, Harry stepped back staring at the reply Gemma had sent him about what they were getting Anne for her birthday.

“I don’t think they do those here poppet, I think they’re a London thing.” Harry’s heart jumped, he looked up at the woman and her daughter stood looking at the cake counter, it was her, it was Ashley. She looked different, her once brunette hair now had a golden haze to it, and she had a different glow about her. “What do you want then monkey? The gingerbread man or the pink cupcake?” Harry admired the sweet interaction, not wanting to interrupt or cause a scene.

“Pink cake please mummy, and can we get one for Nanny’s birthday?” Harry watched in awe, the little baby he had once cradled in his arms was now an adorable little lady, the spitting image of her mum.

“Ashley! It’s wonderful to see you!” Claire chimed as she returned with Harry’s bread, “How long are you up here for?” 

“We’re heading home tomorrow morning,” Ashley glanced at Claire, who was looking straight past her at Harry who stood awkwardly at the back of the shop, with no clue how to handle the situation. She turned to see what Claire was looking at, the man who she hadn’t seen she stormed away from him in the middle of Hammersmith. 

She wavered on her feet, he looked well, he had clearly been working out more since the last time she saw him, his shoulders were broader. His hair was tousled in its usual messy yet styled way, as always he was exceptionally dressed, leaving Ashley feeling very underdressed in her jeans and Live Aid t-shirt. “Long time no see.” Harry whispered, struggling to find words to end the awkward silence.

“There’s a reason for that,” Ashley replied bitterly, handing Claire the money and taking the cakes from the counter, “And you bloody well know why.” She took her daughter’s hand and pulled her from the bakery, the pair striding back to the car where Will sat waiting. 

“Who was that man mummy?” Daisy asked as Ashley opened the car door.

“No one darling, no one you need to worry about.”

“What was that all about?” Claire asked, handing Harry his loaf of bread.

“I was an idiot a while back, I don’t think she’s forgiven me, and frankly I can’t blame her.” Harry explained.

“You two were great together, thicker than thieves, I remember when you both got your saturday jobs here. Dynamic duo we called you.” Claire smiled, she was right, Harry had fond memories of washing up beside Ashley, singing Shania Twain and Joni Mitchell songs as they made their way through a mountain of dirty trays and plates.

“Clearly we’re just not the same people we used to be.” Harry replied, handing Claire a five pound note as she passed him the fresh loaf, “Have a lovely day Claire, keep the change.”

“Daisy, sit still please,” Ashley sighed, it was a cool summer evening and she was sitting in the passenger seat of Will’s broken down car. They were meant to be taking Linda out for her birthday, but Will’s car had decided to throw a spanner in the works. Daisy, like any other three year old was grizzly, and getting restless. “Will, for christ sake just call the breakdown people.” Ashley huffed as her boyfriend stood with the bonnet up trying to work out what was wrong with the car. 

“What do you think I’ve done?” Will sighed, “They said it’ll be a two hour wait.” 

“Brilliant, bloody brilliant. Sorry about this mum, I had hoped we’d be there soon, but who knows at this point.” 

After another half an hour, Will was still adamant he knew what to do, Daisy had been through all sorts of tantrums. Just as Ashley was about to give up another vehicle pulled up beside them, expecting it to be the breakdown service, Will put the bonnet down to see the headlights didn’t belong to a van, but rather a large Audi pulled up instead. The driver wound down the window as Will approached, “Do you need any help?” The man in the car asked.

“Not sure how much you can do for me mate, think this one is passed it.” Will explained.

“In that case can I give you a lift somewhere?” He asked.

“Are you sure? there’s four of us, we’re on the way to dinner.” Will explained.

“It’s not a problem, honestly.”

“Cheers mate, I’ll let my girlfriend know, I’m Will by the way.” He smiled.

“Harry.” The audi driver smiled.

Will returned to his car, “This guy’s going to give us a lift, said he’ll drop us in town.” he explained to Ashley who was getting fed up with waiting.

“Perfect!” she chimed, climbing out of the car, she took Daisy out of the back to get her into the new car. As she opened the back door, the driver turned to face her, offering a warm smile. Talk about convenient, the one person she had hoped to avoid was going to drive her and her family to dinner. 

The car ride was almost silent, apart from Daisy talking about all sorts of nonsense. Eventually Will managed to put two and two together, realising who Harry actually was. They pulled up outside the restaurant and Linda turned to Harry, “Thank you so much for that Harry love, I owe you for that.” 

“It’s not a problem Linda, honestly, I was coming this way anyway.” Harry assured her.

“Why don’t you join us?” Linda smiled, this was all Ashley needed.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, honestly.” Harry replied.

“I’m sure Harry’s a busy man.” Will muttered bitterly from the back seat.

“Harry it’s my birthday, and I want to say thank you, you’re joining us.” Linda insisted.

Dinner was awkward to say the least, the waiter had just come to collect their empty dinner plates, and Ashley couldn’t help but wait for it to be over. Daisy was transfixed on Harry, seeing as she couldn’t remember him, he was far more new and exciting than anyone else sat around that table. Harry sat beside Linda, who was doing her very best to keep the conversation civil. “So Harry, when are we getting new music? Ash got me a record player for my birthday and I’m itching to buy some records for it.” Linda told him.

“I’m hoping, if everything goes to plan, to have it out by the end of the year.” 

“Sounds wonderful Harry, I have missed you awfully,” Linda smiled, to her Harry was like the son she never had, she adored him completely, so when a wedge was driven between Harry and Ashley, she was heartbroken to say the least, Linda noticed the stale atmosphere, and decided to remove herself from the situation, “Tell you what Daisy, shall we go and see if we can find the puddings?” Linda asked, taking Daisy’s hand and leading her over to the bar.

“She’s grown up a lot hasn’t she?” Harry said, gesturing towards Daisy, in an attempt to make some sort of conversation.

“Yeah, she starts nursery next month,” Ashley smiled gently, appreciating Harry’’s desire to keep things civil.

“I mean you’d know that, if you’d been around for the past two years.” Will told him sternly, Ashley hadn’t ever seen Will like that before, maybe it was jealousy, maybe it was something else. He had a vague idea of the fallout between Harry and Ashley, and he knew about their history.

“Will, leave it out.” Ashley replied, trying not to cause a scene, knowing pictures of Harry would end up plastered all over tomorrow's news. 

“Well it’s not like he’s been there to see her grow up is it?” Will chimed in again.

“And I suppose you have?” Harry replied, “I supported Ashley and Daisy as much as I possibly could in her first year.” 

“Throwing money at a problem doesn’t make it go away.” Will answered back.

“I hold my hands up, I spent a fair amount of money on Ashley and Daisy, but one thing that never changed, is the love I have for them both, I treated Daisy like she was my own daughter and I would sure as hell do it again.” Ashley was taken aback by Harry’s little speech, she didn’t expect Harry to be so honest about where he went wrong.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but they have me now.” Will told him bluntly.

“You’re right, they do. This was a bad idea,” Harry stood up, taking his wallet from the pocket of his trousers, “Take this for the meal, I’ve cost you enough trouble.”

“We don’t need your money.” Will replied.

“I know you don’t, I know how much Ash earns, but I want to treat my friend, so that's what I’m doing, have a lovely evening.” Harry placed the wad of cash on the table before turning to leave. Ashley let out a sigh as he left the restaurant, rolling her eyes at Will.

“What?” Will asked.

“You just couldn’t help yourself could you?” Ashley replied.

“Hang on a minute, last thing you told me, you said you never wanted to see the face of that jumped up egotistical walking gucci campaign ever again.”

“Those are your words, not mine.” Ashley told him forcefully.

“I’m not wrong though am I? He used you and when he got bored you were hung out to dry, you’re better off out of it.” Will said sternly, taking a sip of his beer.

It’s more complicated than that Will, and I’m afraid it always will be.”

[sapphire-strikes]

☆Some Smile For Me Headcanons Pt. 7☆

Part. 1 Part. 2 Part. 3 Part. 4 Part. 5 Part. 6

It has been a while since I've done one of these but I figured it's just what I needed to get my creative juices flowing. Just a mishmash of random headcanons I have that I wanted to share but couldn't find a reason to fit them into my other writings.

• While Boris struggled for a while with becoming accustomed to the cuddlier aspects of having friends like physical affection, ironically enough, even before being reformed he didn't, and still doesn't, have a good understanding of personal boundaries.

• Back when he was still working as a dentist he often opted to use his own hands over some of the prodding tools when he'd have trouble handling them due to the size of his hands. He may have been wearing gloves but it's no wonder some of his patients had less than positive reviews. Kamal helps him break this habit once they start working together, thank goodness.

• Boris is the furthest thing from Germaphobe. I kind of draw this idea from the fact that he had no qualms about putting other people's teeth in his own mouth. Would probaby eat a tuna fish sandwich he found on a park bench.

• Also tends to be the kind of friend that will just touch all over your food with his bare hands. You offer him some chips and he just undercuts his whole fist into the bag and roots around.

• That same lack of boundaries applies when it comes to -ahem- baring himself to the world. If it wasn't for Kamal's indigent screams, Boris very well would be comfortable dropping his pants in the middle of the living room to change.

Boris, pulling back the shower curtain: "Hey, Kamal. We're out of-

Kamal: *shrieking*

Boris: "No need to scream, silly, it is just me! Anyway, we are out of listerine :-( "

• It's just a kind of over familiarity he takes on with the people he trusts. Boris had been living alone since moving out and going to college. He's never been that close to anybody before and he's not used to having to consider other people's boundries so it's more innocence then it is him being inconsiderate or rude.

• Kamal doesn't really mind. It took him a while to get used to living with someone that was so touchy but hey, if the big guy's has a nightmare and want to crawl into his bed then who's he to stop him.

• When Boris is in his shadow form his body becomes almost manipulable. For the most part you'd never notice as he feel completely solid but if you were to push at him with enough force your hand might break through and come out the other side. Boris looked almost as confused as you the first time it happned but it didn't seem to hurt him. Your body gets wraked with that staticky feeling stronger than ever and the thin penumbra around his body would shiver when you moved your arm around.

• Shadow Habit is also capable of stretching to a small degree; perfect for snatching up his friends.

• Boris knows how to drive but prefers to let Kamal or someone else take the wheel. The exception being when he's alone with the FK. Even if you have a lisence he'll insist on driving because he thinks it's the polite thing to do. He also regularly drives Millie, Putunia and Tim Tam around town.

• Boris is a tickle monster first but a cuddle monster second (*cough* and a shadow monster third *cough*). If it wasn't evendent already this is one of my favorite headcanons for him. The poor man needs to be held.

• Back when he was still settling in he'd let his touch starvedness show with the lingering hugs. If the other person didn't move to let go then neither would he.

• If you ever decide to test this theory you'll find out that it's right. After a few minutes he actually shifts some and you think he's about to let go but instead you're held onto as he moves to sit down.

• If you pull away to look at him curiously the sad look on his face just breaks your heart. He knows he should let go and he thinks that's what you want too but you held on for too long and now he just can't. Imagine the surprise on his face when you just smile and go back to hugging him, even as you feel the tears hitting your shoulder.

• A few months later and he's mostly out of the awkward faze but that doesn't mean the joy of a good snuggle is lost on him, if anything it's quite the opposite. This man becomes a fiend.

• If you or Kamal ever share a bed with him there's the possibility that he will roll over on top of you and you'll be stuck there until he wakes up. It's one of the only things that can get Kamal red-faced anymore. Being snuggled underneath him wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for the fact that he nuzzles whoevers under him constantly and might even make low purr if he's in a deep enough sleep.

• Makes a lot of "hrrumphs" and "Mrrph" sounds in his sleep too.

• While Boris is indeed a Professional Tickle Monster™️, he himself isn't very ticklish at all. Try to get revenge and you'll only be met with a small chuckle as he doesn't even bother to try to stop you. After he thinks you've had enough fun you're lifted up from under the arms and your positions are swapped. "Good effort! Now it is your turn! :-D" (0/10 very unfair)

• When addressing Kamal, Boris pronounces his name Kah-mal as apposed to Kuh-mul.

• Pabit, when being puppeted by Boris or talking on his own, speaks with a high pitched mobster accent. It's definitely not the type of voice you'd expect Boris to be able to make but it does suit the little guy really well.

[monkey-network]

The Odyssey of Spongebob Squarepants

A lot can happen as you grow up. Your tastes will change, you will have more responsibilities, and unless you can literally live under a rock, you can’t turn things back for yourself. So... after over 20 years, when the time keeps going in spite of yourself, does your past evolve and how should you feel about it? Spongebob Squarepants is a show so many have noted as the greatest of all time, but has grown to not be wholly beloved as its later years have not been as well received as it’s golden era. But I’m one to think: how has Spongebob evolved over time? What of this show makes it the greatest in my eyes despite thinking more about those vaunted first three seasons with its movie? Well, let’s roll back...

Back to the Past, To Remember Episodes that Sucked Ass

Despite what some may say, I don’t believe season 4 and 5 was where Spongebob started losing its mojo. There were definitely stinkers like Good Neighbors and Driven to Tears but the good ones definitely outweighed the bad. Not like the quality Golden Era didn’t have its duds, I really don’t like I’m With Stupid, Party Pooper Pants, and Spongeguard on Duty. Season 6 is where I say things surely falter, where for a good amount of time more episodes became unpleasant in retrospect. I noticed it’s more season 6 through 8 that people really take issue with. The Splinter, Boating Buddies, Pet Sitter Pat, the many we call the worst are some good time after the first movie. The first movie came out in 2004, season 6 was spring 2008 so it’s fair to say we had a grace period.

But it begs the bucking question: why did Spongebob stop being good? Numerous people have tried wrapping their heads around the decline citing reasons from flanderization, creative fallout and changes. Emplemon believed in his Spongebob video that the spirit of what connected the show to adults was severed due to merely become a cartoon for children, especially when Spongebob and Squidward’s dichotomy as adults was broken in later seasons. But you know what? I think I truly have the answer. It’s not so much production wise, but it certainly explains the many differing bad episodes that many have covered. It explains why I don’t like Sponge on the Run but we’ll get to that later. But a truth I’ve noticed, remembering and looking at Spongebob in its seperated eras is one I haven’t seen anybody talk about when it comes to why it could be considered bad:

The Plot Drives the Characters Too Much

The greatest episodes of Spongebob, I’m talking Band Geeks, Pizza Delivery, Ripped Pants, Chocolate w/ Nuts, Karate Choppers, etc., don’t have the premise take over the characters. Meanwhile the worst episodes always have the plot push the characters in noticeably different directions because it demands it. Spongebob is strictly a character based cartoon, and when you have episodes that, while can appear fitting on paper, force the cast to be somebody they’re not, people aren’t gonna be on board. Take the episode A Pal for Gary where Spongebob gets Gary a new pet that dangerously hates other pets only for him to be completely ignorant of Gary’s pleas and blames him in the end for banishing the monstrous Puffy Fluffy away. Reasonably, Spongebob is very much the asshole but unfortunately has to or else the plot would need to be seriously reworked. We can chock it up to poor direction but this is indeed a common occurrence for when Spongebob gets bad, not just in post first movie era. I’m With Stupid is a great classic era example where yeah, Patrick becomes an ignorant jerk but on paper, it works with the plot of him trying to please his parents. It does the job at the visible cost of the characters. We generally say the characters are bad but I’ve hardly seen people say the plots are bad like Family Guy where, despite also being character focused, the plots they have can go off the rails in favor of trying to get laughs and the sake of a status quo. The highlight of this problem lies with the coined ‘Squidward Torture Porn’

Squidward Tentacles can be a jerk. A real cynic, a character that’ll gladly try to bring down Spongebob’s childlike wonder in favor of giving him a dose of reality. The most memorable episodes of him are where him and Spongebob are in the same situation but have their clash of outlooks, with Squidward ultimately understanding Spongebob’s POV enough to have a moment of genuine happiness or a modest bit of karma. He’s indeed the most important character because adults grow to see where he’s coming from but at the same time wants to be on Spongebob’s side. The best provide Squidward the chance to understand differently and potentially enjoy a new perspective. The worst punishes him for simply wanting to live.

The plots of the worst Squidward episodes have Spongebob and/or Patrick actively antagonize Squidward because on paper, it makes sense to make someone like Squidward the punching bag like Elmer Fudd to Bugs Bunny or an egotistical asshole to the Warner Siblings from Animaniacs. But in the effort to do so, they never give Squidward the chance to fight back. It’s like they took the whole “No One Wants to be a Squidward” line and utilized that to make him the go to for misery based comedy without giving him any upside. Cephalopod Lodge, Good Neighbors, Choir Boys are stories designed around Spongebob ruining Squid’s life because... what? He doesn’t want Spongebob to be around every time of day? As a child, it can be some fun just seeing Squid get punished but for an adult, it can definitely be a turn-off. Some people see themselves in Squidward, for better or worse, so what’s it to them when Squidward is basically forced to suffer for no reason other than the plot demands it? Later stories give Squidward far more of a break, even some successes, but the idea of making him the butt of life’s joke is still leftover from the episodes that called for him to casually suffer.

The worst plots of the show can be the safest, the simplest, and pretty predictable because unlike the best where the characters are just allowed to make things happen, the story has to contain the characters in a way that’s fitting to who they can be but notably sacrifices who they were before. Why they got made is very up in the air, I’d have to listen to a ton of commentary to potentially pick that apart and I don’t have that much time. 

But it doesn’t the change the fact that the plots were never what made Spongebob good. And it doesn’t mean all those bad episodes make for bad seasons either. We could say there was a decline but that would mean giving up on the show merely because it lost it’s footing with more bad episodes than good for a few seasons. Because I believe 4 to 5 years after season 6, things got back on track even if things weren’t exactly the same.

Return to Form, Change in Energy

I don’t believe that Stephen Hillenburg’s departure was what proposed the decline, I’d say the show never really declined, just had some real potholes within three particular seasons. But I say it’s clear that the direction of the show shifted because you gotta understand, with or without Stephen the show has to be unique, has to have fresh ideas in the midst of potential competition despite being the most popular of the network. Even the trusted of Hillenburg’s team might’ve figured Spongebob couldn’t make lightning strike so rough patches might be expected. This is where Spongebob’s 2nd film, Sponge Out Of Water comes in.

I wasn’t as into this film with my first watch. I know it wouldn’t compare to the first film, but things felt segmented to where it hardly felt like a structured movie. Going back to it again, it kinda showed how Spongebob was going to evolve as a series. A lot of Sponge Out of Water lies in the characters getting into a more chaotic adventure than before. Spongey’s dream sequence, the whole Mad Max apocalypse, inter-dimensional dolphins, really told that the show post 2nd film would follow in its footsteps both in the stories and in animation.

It’s to say the golden era of Spongebob was more... grounded with itself. The charm of the characters was what made the plots unpredictable in nature but mostly not to a visible extent. Idiot Box, one of the greatest episodes, literally have moments where we see nothing but a box but the episode’s carried by the performances. Modern Spongebob, post 2nd movie, started to run all over the place. That’s not a bad thing but clearly a change of pace. I think it’s befitting to say the modern era got more cartoon-y where it’s way more expressive and the plots themselves go in unpredictable places in a way that all feels refreshing. It’s not the same as before, but well enough in it’s own time. It’s like Teen Titans ‘03 vs Teen Titans GO! The two have their clearly different tones but they’re appealing in their own way, only Spongebob isn’t trying to poke fun at its older audience like a snarky ass motherfu-

That is the thing as well that I haven’t seen many people consider when it comes to the modern era: it always tries to be fun. I can say an episode’s bad, but there are times where a bad Spongebob episode was enjoyable at least. It isn’t like modern Simpsons where you could tell they’ve been running out of steam and you’d just wish it died. It feels like the staff were given some time and space to make Spongebob back into as intended, even when most moments aren’t as strong or memorable as before. It can appear as just another cartoon for children but it never felt like it wasn’t Spongebob anymore, especially after the 2nd film and with Stephen Hillenburg’s consulting return. Unfortunately, only after a few more years is where say Spongebob’s going in a direction that I’m admittedly not fond off. It isn’t on par with The Simpsons, but it’s not as comfortable a fate.

A Spongebob Cinematic Universe

I enjoyed Sponge on the Run, but I don’t like it what it stands for. Many say it’s a poor backdoor for the spin-off Kamp Koral and I can’t help but agree. I’m not speaking for Stephen’s behalf nor will I shame everyone who comes to love this mini-series when it comes out, but I can definitely see where he was coming from with his abstain of spin-offs. Spongebob is a show that works, always worked, on its own. It has many characters that, to this day, they’re bouncing with to create new adventures and jokes. Now, I’m actually okay with giving some spin-offs revolving around the other characters; a show for Squidward would be hype as all hell. 

But Kamp Koral, by extension Sponge on the Run, feels less like a creator’s passion and more like a marketed decision. The fact that they scrapped a potential alien cat invasion movie all for a visually pleasing yet heavily derivative story tells quite a bit. It’s a movie that, compared to the previous, is just hitting certain beats; the plot again driving the characters instead of the other way around which leads to really off-putting moments. There’s fun to be had, but it feels superficial. And while I don’t think this’ll affect the next generation of Spongebob, the most recent episodes are good, but I have a bad feeling that it’ll be morphed into something Stephen genuinely didn’t want for the series and they do it because regardless of what the fans don’t want, they truly own the show now.

I was okay with Spongebob having its merchandise and a Broadway musical because the show helped make them work. After seeing SCOOB! and countless talks of making cinematic universes thanks not only to the MCU but stuff like Spider-Verse and Lego Movie though, it’s starting to feel more like an corporate sanctioned omen that I fear too much becoming a reality. But really, it begs one more question...

What Do I See in Spongebob?

I’ve said this when talking about the 1st Spongebob movie: “[It] works so well was because, speaking for adults, it is about embracing the you that you love as opposed to trying to be someone you aren't. You can grow up for taking that journey, but you don't have to be grown up all the time.” Even with its not so great history, Spongebob personally never comes off as a show that’s lost its identity. If there’s anything learned from the likes of Steven Universe and Family Guy, yeah, it’s that bad episodes or changes in tone doesn’t make for a buried series. Vast majority will definitely notice the difference between classic and modern Spongebob, but I don’t believe they’ll say it isn’t Spongebob anymore. I keep bringing it up, but it doesn’t feel like the Simpsons where you notice the burnout, the age of its existence in the late late seasons. Not that Viacom/Nickelodeon won’t hesitate the same fate because they can be fucking scum, but otherwise the show has run out of steam yet. 

What mostly concerns me though is that the charm of the show falls by the wayside with trying to expand it outside the show. Bog down the love by making unnecessary spin-offs that try to do what fanworks like the Spongebob Anime do for the hell of it in order to retain that all age appeal. They’ll feel like memes that age horrifically the moment it’s trending on Twitter. Again I don’t wanna speak over Stephen Hillenburg’s behalf but it feels like Nickelodeon gets potentially too ambitious with something that should be simple enough at the same time. We got some good hype back thanks to the Battle for Bikini Bottom Rehydrated, but that only could boost our spirits so far this year.

To me, Spongebob was certainly a game changer and now, while still popular, it is very much among the crowd. It’s not a show we’re worrying about compared to stuff like Infinity Train, Glitch Techs, the Animaniacs reboot, Primal, shows that are continually changing the metagame in what people want for a cartoon. We might notice stand out moments and we’ll continue making memes, but it’s fair to say we aren’t as invested in Spongebob socially as back then when, as I remember, new episodes or specials felt like an event and it was considered the best out here in our friend circles. Now when we say it’s the best, it’s asterisked. Many love Spongebob Squarepants, but notably aren’t too keen with all of it nowadays.

But to truly conclude, I say for everyone who reads all of this, 1st thank you, and secondly to give modern Spongebob a chance. I can’t recommend Sponge On the Run but these later seasons (nine to recently) actually feel like the show cleaned up itself after many touted that bad episode era was what made Spongebob fall. I don’t believe the show’s fallen because I shouldn’t have expected this show to be flawless. Not every episode’s a hit, but there is not only still good variety but episodes that feel right at home. Mimic Madness, Boo-kini Bottom, Squid Noir, Moving Bubble Bass, One Trick Sponge, and any episode with Plankton are actual joys to see and rewatch if I’m in the mood. The episode premieres are all over the place nowadays but it feels like the crew are given their time at least. And I think this is the path is where I’m content with about Spongebob: it just gets to be a cartoon.

I see so many people try to prop up shows as more than meets the eye. I mention Infinity Train and Steven Universe as the new game changers but I hardly see people just recommend shows that are simple, clean, knows what they are without trying to be anything more premise wise. We just get some quality entertainment with characters we’ve come to know, just for the sake of it. We get a cartoon in its bare essence. Spongebob gets to do its thing like it always has these past 20 years and I’m grateful for that. I’ve seen a variety of shows, but Spongebob always felt like a show worth sticking with even when I feel I’ve “outgrown” it. Not because I want to regress in growth, but as an adult I see now why Spongebob worked so well as it did and why it’s worth sticking with. Even after everything, the show’s made it it’s sole passage to provide us the core reason why we love Spongebob: the show always wanted to love itself for what it was as Spongebob Squarepants always loved to be himself.

And there will never ever be another show like it.

[skzafterdusk]

Stray Kids As Dates I’ve Been On

Unorthodox, but really this is just:

These are totally the dates each member would take you on

Chan: Why did you guys end up at Barnes & Noble? No clue, but you were here. And while you guys wandered through the sections, looking at various books, you stumbled across a book that intrigued you both:

500 Questions To Ask Someone

Luckily, there was a cafe in the store, so guys were able to order coffee, sit and go back and forth between asking questions.

Some were basic, some were very thought provoking, and it waged some lengthy conversations. You realized, as you watched Chan explain some of his most creative ideas, some of his plans for the future, that you’d never met anyone like him. To be so genuinely engrossed in what he was saying, to catch how he sent you soft smiles when you went on rants, it was a feeling you never had before. 

Even though you don’t remember which question it was, you knew to take a mental snapshot of that day, because it was one to remember.

Yes, you did end up buying the book for sentimental purposes.

Minho: (Should probably mention this now, there’s a lot of driving involved on these dates) He decides to take you to the lake. The summer is forgiving this year, and while the days can still be hot, the nights are met with cool breezes, whisping air that smells of the trees and grass that grow plentiful.

You sit on a bench after having stood near the lake, and you just talk. By this point, you’d gone on a couple dates, and still had so much to learn about each other.

Although Minho has a very forward personality, he stumbles a little when he suggests that you guys become official, exclusively dating only each other. He shakes his head quickly, almost like he is dismissing the idea, but you agree.

In the dark of the night, you can hardly make out each other’s faces that well, but even still you can see his grin and the way he looks back at you.

Changbin: Wasn’t a planned date. You guys closed the store you work at together, and you were both hungry and wired from the interactions with customers that day.

So he suggests you go to this diner. It’s one you’ve been to a couple times in the past, and Changbin has had some memorable late night meals with friends there. It was only fitting he took you to one of his favourite places, right?

The conversation you guys share is unexpectedly deep, you opening up about your relationship with your parents, him being the great listener like he always is. Given that it was your first time in this type of setting with him, you hardly thought this is what the night would bring. Sure, you’d had a crush on him before because he made you feel so comforted at work, but you had no idea that getting to talk with him -like, actually converse with him- would only make the crush turn into genuine feelings.

After the diner, neither of you wanted to go home, so you just drove. You guys ran unnecessary errands, anything to stay in each other’s company. And it was well past 2am when you finally said goodbye.

Hyunjin: The date hadn’t been planned. You just happened to be out near where he lived, and he asked if you wanted to spend some time together. 

It’s already late afternoon when you guys meet up. He suggests you guys go to a park near his home. After the day you had, it was nice to be out on such a lovely summer day, taking in the sound of insects buzzing around you.

After the park, you went to a Japanese restaurant in the downtown area. Sitting outside, you both could admire the skyscrapers just in the distance. And, afterwards, you took a stroll, the streets empty at night, so you took your time crossing. There was a memorial fountain nearby, and it looked lovely in the night.

All this random adventure just brought you back to his house, where you promptly spent the night just talking in your car.

You’re not even sure how or why you started kissing, but soon enough, the car was filled with heavy panting, the wet sound of your kisses. The center console was uncomfortable, so you ended up in the backseat. 

The only way you were able to drive home was because you had work the next morning. Yes, the Little Mermaid bandage on your neck to hide the hickey was a little ridiculous.

Jisung: There’s a college campus close to where he loves, and it’s almost like a hideaway for him. On a summer day, the campus is rather empty. Spacious lawns and intricate water fountains can be found across one cobblestone street to the next.

But his favourite place to visit? The archive room at the top floor of the library. Past the marble floors, sweeping candelabras and great oak double doors, there is a long room. The only way to illuminate the space is with its many fluorescent lights. Void of proper windows and the need for cool air, being in the archive can feel like being in another world. 

You split up, you get lost in towering shelves as does Jisung. But you find each other, given that you’re the only ones up there.

And when you do meet up, you stand close to his side. He’s skimming a book in the psychology section, and you don’t notice his gaze when you lean closer to look at the words on the page.

He puts the book back gently, turning his full attention to you. 

You feel one of his hands go to wrap around your waist, the other resting where your neck and shoulder meet. He gives a quick smile as he sees you won’t back away. Honestly, you’d been waiting for this, waiting for the moment where you could finally kiss him.

The automated voice that comes over the speaker is cold, harsh, and jarring. It makes your heart stop in your chest as you jump.

“The library will be closing in ten minutes.”

With a deep inhale, Jisung steps away.

“There’s some other places I wanted to show you,” he says, holding out his hand for you to take.

When you finally exit the library, the sun is going down in the night, but your adventures on campus do not stop until the sky is full of stars, and the horizon only shows ignited street lamps.

Felix: I never understood how people could go on dates in stores, but honestly I get it now. And Felix would definitely be the type to walk around Wal-mart with you as you picked up some essentials (toothpaste, a pack of UNO cards, etc), just talking about whatever that comes up. For example, going by the tire section and talking about how you love the smell of tires.

“They’re just rubber,” he’d say, simply.

And you would shrug. “I guess I like the smell of rubber.” And then, somehow, you get on the topic of enjoying the smell of ammonia, and he’s fighting off laughter because,

“Ammonia is in cat pee. You like the smell of cat pee?”

So, yes, you’re wandering aimlessly around Wal-mart for probably two hours when a storm comes by. Tornado and flood, to be exact.

You’re at the check-out line when Felix’s mom would call, telling him he needed to get home because it was supposed to flood really bad, and that a tornado was coming. Little do you know, it’s already absolutely pouring outside.

And you didn’t park anywhere close to the entrance.

So you both book it, a sad attempt at trying to shield yourself from the rain with your feeble hands. There’s so much water on the ground that it kicks up high as your feet pound the pavement. And once you get to your car, the both of you are soaked from head-to-toe.

He lives closer, so you drive carefully as the water is already collecting on the streets, and make it to his apartment. It’s not even a question of you coming inside since he wouldn’t dare make you drive back home in these conditions.

Hours pass by with endless conversation, laughs, giggles, light-hearted bickering. You’re both dry at this point, and he offers you guys watch Scott Pilgrim Vs The World because it was a movie you both really enjoyed.

But here’s the thing: we know Felix is a handsy person. No shame, but he needs physical touch at all times. And really, it’s not enough that you’re just sitting really close to each other on the couch. And soon, his arm is wrapped around your shoulders (smooth), and everytime he laughs, his head bumps into yours, endearingly.

So the movie is on for maybe 15 minutes before he decides to pause it, looking at you with intent. His eyes keep glancing down at your lips. Cheesy, you would think in any other situation, but your breath stutters when he finally leans in. It’s a simple peck, but it’s enough to make the room around you deafeningly silent.

Cue the makeout session that results, featuring some slight biting and mild choking. As a treat.

Then you get your ass home cause it stopped raining. (clearly a lot happened this night)

Seungmin: I don’t know where this idea is coming from, but something about him just screams, “How about you come over to my house and I cook you dinner?” as a date. He’s just that classy dude.

...you might have to help out, cause he’s not entirely sure what he’s doing.

But that’s what makes it so cool, to be in the kitchen with him, listening to some low music while you guys get in each other’s way. More than once thus he yells out in faux anger, and you laugh. Before he’s even done shouting, he’s smiling at you.

Did the dinner come out good? Well...it’s...edible. Luckily, he has a great selection of fresh fruit that makes a great sweet balance.

Jeongin: Movie and dinner sounds a little common, right? Here’s how it goes down:

Jeongin knows someone that works at the theatre. A manager (see where this is going?). 

So you guys essentially sneak into a movie for free. As much as you loved it, you spent a lot of the time curled into him as gorey scenes filled the screen. He teases you a couple times about being too weak, but he still gladly holds your hand, checking you to make sure you’re not getting too grossed out. 

Afterwards, you guys go to the sushi restaurant in the same parking lot. The place is rather empty, given that it’s late afternoon on a weekday, which is nice because you guys don’t have to talk so loud. It’s like you guys are in your own little world. 

From where you guys sit in the restaurant, you can watch as the sun sets across the parking lot. Not very romantic, but a chill date that still leaves you grinning when you get home.

Val’s Note

Hello, there! I hope you enjoyed my first post. This is something I’ve been thinking about since I got into skz, and I’m glad I could finally type it out and post.

I wanna be able to take requests for lists like these in the future, so feel to do so if you enjoyed this :) Until next time.