#but also the fact that this machine that runs fine is no longer worth fixing bc some google-based bullshit just won't support win8.1 anymor

[you-have-made-a-fatal-error]

need to shell out for a new laptop before the end of the year - for a lot of reasons but mainly bc support ending for win8.1 makes fixing the current beast rather pointless :/ (and. admittedly. there is a lot to fix. she's old and she has suffered.)

but my current beastie is from the last gen of laptops with a disc drive and the thought of using an external/usb disc drive is enough to make me cry tears of blood

[tommyspeakycap]

Can I request some chilly fluff? Anything really, just some cute sweet chilly fluff with a little bit of angst maybe?

of course! here's an idea that's been swimming around my brain all day lol

helping hand

ben isn't coping with his newest responsibility and his best friend comes to save the day once again

It's honestly less about the news than it is about the fact that you didn’t here it from him. Texts have gone mostly unanswered since you read that online article you first believed was false, only for it to be confirmed by him. You offered a congratulations despite the pain it brought to you to hear that you had completely lost your chance.

You had probably called him about a million times, each time ringing out and some even being hung up after merely a few rings.

At first, you worried that something had happened. Then you managed to wrangle the news out of Mason that everything was well, you let yourself have those days of utter heartbreak that he had found a girl, started to settle down and then completely cut you out of the picture. This was the first time in all of your 23 years that you hadn't been able to speak to him about things that were going on. He seemed to have completely fogotten about you and you couldn't bring yourself to think of a reason why.

She never really did like you, his girlfriend. You could only imagine it had something to do with the fact that Ben was incredibly close with you. A lot of girls had been unhappy with the fact that while dating Ben, they were subject to teasing that everyone was surprised he was dating when they had thought he was so clearly in love with you. You understand that, it would be irritating but nothing had ever happened between you and Ben that might suggest you would ever get together. People just love a rumour.

What had really hit you, however was seeing her from the Instagram you followed. She didn't even appear to be in London, never mind with him and that made no sense by the timeline you had managed to figure out.

That's how you found yourself standing at his door with what felt like a million bags and a feeling of hurt you had never actually had before. You cornered Mason, refusing to leave until he told you what the hell was going on and when he did, you were gone like a flash with a broken heart to seek out the man who needed you now more than he ever did.

Your heart shatters even more when you step into his house, pushing it open and pulling out the key he gave you a few months ago as you head carefully to the kitchen. You can hear him trying to talk, his voice strained and croaky as he attempts to speak over the sound of the screaming baby girl.

"Come on sweetheart," he begs, "Please take your bottle, I promise you're just tired."

His house is messier than you've ever seen it with gifts unopened, blankets and bottles, baby toys and clothes strewn around everywhere you could see.

You're quick and quiet to get to work clearing the place up, clean clothes being folded and sat in his clean laundry hamper while sorting the dirty things and shoving them into the washing machine by colour before tidying away all the blankets into the baby boxes he had set up in his front room. The infant upstairs screams the entire time you whiz around, throwing an entire bin bag worth of rubbish out of his kitchen before restocking all the shelves and his empty fridge with food for him and milk powder for the little girl. The pizza you shoved in the oven the second you arrived was finished after 15 minutes, so you plated that and left it on the kitchen island before you decided to make you presence known to him.

"Need a helping hand?"

His head whips around rapidly, instinctively tucking his daughter closer into his chest before he recognised your voice and turned his face back away from you. "You shouldn't be here, (y/n)." He mumbles, bouncing his legs to try and get that screeching to stop before he starts crying again himself.

How had everything ended up so messy? He found a girl that he thought he loved, he had his best friends and he had you. She got pregnant and he was ecstatic until she told him she wasn't interested in having a baby. It was too late to do anything about it, so she gave birth to that baby and legally signed over parental rights wholly and fully to a destroyed Ben. You, of course, had to find this out half from the tabloids and half from Mason. Ben was absolutely affronted. He was mortified. How had he gotten himself in this position?

You were the first and only person he wanted to tell. He was desperate to seek out your arms and have an absolute sob to you so you could help him fix this like you do with everything else, but he couldn't bring himself to face you. He cut you off slowly and carefully without even noticing himself because she had coaxed him into it. She played him like a fiddle, let him grow her platform and fund her lifestyle until she had everything she wanted from him and left him with something that was supposed to be theirs to love forever.

As if things couldn't get worse, from the moment he found out she was having a baby he had realised he didn't want kids or a life with anyone but you and now here he is, with a baby that has no mother and he had lost you. How could he just go back crying to you now after all the hurt he had caused you? What kind of person does that? He made this mess and it was his to clean up.

"Mason told me what happened. You can fight me all you want, Ben but I'm not going to go anywhere so you may as well just let me help." You say firmly, not inviting a single space for him to actually contest your words. His shoulder deflate even further than they already are as he finally turns to meet your eyes.

There's bags and dark circles beneath his with greasy, messy hair and a shirt he probably hadn't changed in longer than he should.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, clamping down on his lip with his teeth so he doesn't immediately burst out crying at the sight of you standing there in his house. God, he's missed you so much he couldn't even begin to put it into words and his emotions are so messed up from the lack of sleep that he'll cry at just about anything right now. "It's forgotten about. We don't have to talk about it, I'm here to help."

The weight that lifts off of Ben's shoulder is the kind of immense relief that only really you can bring to him, honestly. There are few people that he has ever met that can ease him like you can and knowing he doesn't have to explain this whole situation really is something he's so thankful for.

"This is Lilly," he says weakly, nodding his head down at her whining. You smile immediately and without thought, stepping forward to get a closer look at the small baby, only two weeks old and already giving her dad a run for his money. "Hello Lilly," you coo softly, raising your hand to stroke her cheek with your finger in the most gentle manner he's ever seen. "Can I? I feel like I've missed out on two weeks worth of aunt (y/n) cuddles."

He tries not to think much into the fact you refer to yourself as her aunt because if he lets enough thought onto it, he'll find himself breaking his heart over you all over again. Ben nods, passing her into your arms carefully.

"I'll feed her, I made some pizza for you so you should go eat." You hold our your hand to take the bottle from him, but he frowns. "I-" Ben stutters, "I don't want to just lump you with her, plus she's upset so I shouldn't leave her y'know? It's not fair on-"

"Go and eat Ben, and have a shower while you're at it. We'll be fine in here, I've babysat a million times before." You shrug, taking the bottle from him as you step further into the nursery instead of standing in the doorway cradling the still whimpering little girl in her pink onesie. "But I-"

"Go."

"I should-"

"Ben go, now."

Ben sighs in defeat and turns on his heel, the rumbling of his stomach finally giving him away as he realises just how hungry and smelly he actually is. No wonder the infant was crying in his hold.

He trudges downstairs, hearing the sounds of those winging dying down as he does, half expecting to walk into the messy swamp he had left when he went upstairs earlier this morning, only to see the whole bottom floor of the house was basically as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, bar the baby variety adjustments he had made to welcome the new arrival.

He makes a mental note to thank you more and do some grovelling and apologising later on. He knows he has to do it and he knows he'll explain in more detail what really happened probably later today, but for now he will scoff that pizza down his throat faster than he has ever consumed a meal in all of his life before raining the cupboards that he discovered you had stocked. He is reminded with every step he takes around his house that this is you, again, here holding him up when the world around him feels like its completely crumbled.

This is what you do, you keep him together, fix him up after the heartbreaks and breakups preparing him for the next girl who's pieces you'll have to pick up when they hurt him. This time he doesn't want another girl, he wants you. This time, the one time that he would be miles too late. He's got a baby now that he needs to focus on and he can't imagine that you're going to want an instant family even if you could really see past the fact he had ghosted you for nearly five straight months from the moment he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He can't forgive himself, so how on earth would you?

If he would ask, you would tell him you already had. Seeing how hurt he was, how genuinely sorry things had ended dup like this with everyone in his life he was was enough for you. It was enough to cause you actual physical pain. You never could hold a grudge considering the situation he had ended up in.

Ben had never ever once in his life being more thankful for his shower. He’s also pretty sure he fell asleep against the wall with the heat of the shower steam loosening his muscles and the fatigue of barely an hours sleep catching up to him. He towel dries off his hair, letting the towel hang around his neck as he rubs it against his head while he pads along the soft carpet of his hallway from the bedroom to his beautifully done pink nursery where he hears no crying, at all.

But he does here soft talking.

“Giving your daddy a hard time eh, pretty girl.” You hum softly, slowly swaying from side to side. She lays in your arms, looking up at you and stealing every bit of your heart with her daddies eyes. “He deserves it a little, you know. Just ‘cause he done me out of some adorable baby cuddles y’know?” Ben can hear the teasing smile on your lips as he leans against the doorframe out of your sight, keeping quiet so as not to be detected. “But he’s a good man, sweet girl. One of the best, actually. And i know he’s already such a good daddy to you, he loves you so so much. Do you know that, eh?” You say quietly. Ben catches the sight of you swaying that amazed little baby who coos up at you, reaching for your finger to hold. “Mhm, and i love you too. You have no idea how loved you are.” That’s one thing Ben can agree on.

“And you might not know it now because you’re little, but i do know one thing for absolute certain; I’m always gonna be here for you, and for your daddy even if he’s as stubborn about it as they come. You’ve got to help me out though, eh sweet girl? Be good to that daddy of yours. Yeah, sleepy baby? Mhm, my sweet girl.” The way you hum, bouncing her carefully and swaying in just the right way for her to fall asleep in your arms. Ben watches you for only a minute more, softly singing a little lullaby to her that makes Ben’s heart swell to ache so much that he has to take a small little video before he heads off downstairs with one last look.

When you finally greet him downstairs with a tight hug that he sinks into immediately, resting his cheek on your shoulder as your hands massage your fingers through his freshly cleaned hairs as his arms hug around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, words muffled by your sweatshirt. The feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck makes him hum in content and sink into you peacefully just like his baby daughter did not half an hour ago. You’re just perfect for them both in every way and there is not one bone in his body that doesn’t wish he had started his family with you.

But with that realisation comes one more; that he will not settle until he has given everything he has, tried with every morsel of him to earn your forgiveness. He might not of started his family with you, but he is damn determined to make you part of it.

[crab-instruments]

Dust in the Wind Part 3 (tbb)

Master <Part 2 Part 4>

Pairing: Hunter x Secret Jedi! Reader (GN)

Rating and Warning: General audience, not much happens (yet)

Words: 1K

a/n: some notes at the end. I didn't think this would get any attention really and I did not know how good it would feel, so please give that little heart like to the fics you read (not just mine lol). I really liked Fallen Order so if you haven't played it and can, I would recommend it, but I'll be incorporating pieces of that game into my fic. I've been using italics for thoughts, if it's in quotes it just means it's being said at not a normal volume (like through a door or spoken really fast). If that doesn't make sense in the fic, it's something I can work on.

Image Credit

The reflection that stared back at you in the mirror looked like someone else. Your hands gripped the sink hard, in an attempt to focus. In your head, you chanted loudly your new identity. My name is Maxis, I’m a freelance mechanic, and I’m now… temporarily… a part of a crew I’ve never met. Kriff, am I insane? That question was rhetorical, the answer was an resounding yes, although this may not be the most outlandish situation you’ve gotten yourself in.

The necklace under your top felt heavy. You pulled it out, staring at the parts. Carrying your deconstructed lightsaber wasn’t the smartest idea but it was something you couldn’t let go of, even before The Purge happened. Most of the pieces were on a long wire that you wrapped loosely around your neck and it hid fairly nicely, looking like just random junk on a wire. The parts that didn’t fit on the necklace well sat on your wrists as bracelets. You tucked it back in and moved your welding goggles from your head to your neck, hiding it further down.

“That’s fine Hunter, but where are they going to sleep? We barely have space as it is,” a muffled voice came from outside the door, drawing your attention back to reality.

Hunter had stepped out leaving you in the small room alone, thinking that explaining the situation to the squad would better. It had been a few minutes since he had left and by the sounds of it, was still trying to sell the idea of you being here was a good idea.

Moving quietly towards the door, your curiosity got the best of you. You pressed your ear to the cold metal, attempting to listen in on the conversation.

“They can sleep in the gunner’s mount with me!” a small, cheerful voice piped up.

“That’s very kind of you, Omega, but we’ll figure it out later,” Hunter’s voice had a hint of favor to it, he obviously adored the child he who had offered space for you. He was probably giving her a small smile, the thought was contagious enough to bring a small smile to your own face.

“I would like to go back to the fact that we know nothing about this ‘Maxis’ or their past. They could very well be a dangerous criminal on the run, based on the story they gave you,” the very pragmatic voice cut through the rest.

At that accusation, you crossed your arms and pouted. “Dangerous? I’m about as dangerous as a bogling.”

Suddenly, the door you were leaning against had opened, sending you dropping to the ground. You shot your arms out, attempting to grab something to stop your introduction to the ground. Luckily, strong arms grabbed yours, steading you. Your eyes met Hunter’s, and stars, did you wish you could stay there. However, five other pair of eyes were on you. Quickly, you attempted to gain your composure and stand up straight.

“What was that about a bogling?” There was a hint of humor in Hunter’s voice. I barely said that above a whisper, how did he hear that?

You cleared your throat and adjusted your tunic. “Uh, I just meant that… I’m not dangerous to you. I’m just a mechanic and got caught up with... I just…” you tried to swallow the nothing in your dry mouth. “IsabotagedanImperialSoldier’sspeederbecausehewasactinglikealaserbrain.” It was a risk to insult the Empire in front of this crew without knowledge of their current standing but more than likely by their hasty escape, they weren’t friendly with the newer overlords.

Everyone’s eyes went wide at your confession, except for the silver haired man who’s grip on the toothpick in his mouth got tighter.

The little girl, Omega, stepped closer. “You sabotaged an Imperial Soldier’s speeder? He caught you and that’s why you were running?” Her eyes may or may not have held something like admiration.

You nodded. “Yeah… It was… worth it to see the bike fall a part under him while trying to catch up.”

The largest one laughed loudly, probably didn’t have any other setting other than ‘loud and explosive’, but it wasn’t threatening. It seemed he also enjoyed the thought along with Omega. “I think Maxis does belong with us if that’s why they’re running.” The others were also holding back laughs.

“If you know how to put machines together, you know how to take them apart,” a slight smile crossed your face. “Of course, when I’m working on your ship, I’ll only put in quality work. I’ll treat the ship like it was my own. That is… if you’ll have me.” The others gave looks to each other and eventually nodded, looking back at Hunter for direction.

“Of course. We aren’t exactly… on great terms with the Empire either. Well, since that’s settled…” He gestured to the paler man to his left, starting the introductions. “This is Echo, part machine, all tactics. Crosshair is our sniper, doesn’t say much. Tech, on the hand, will talk about everything in the universe. Wrecker does explosives and takes down anything in his path. Lastly, this is Omeg—”

“I’m Omega! It’s so nice to meet you!” She was obviously very excited to meet new people. She grabbed your hand, shaking it. “Hunter, can I show Maxis around the ship?” Her eyes sparkled.

Hunter met your eyes and you gave a slight nod. “Of course.” Omega dragged you past the boys, starting the tour of your new home.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After a few standard hours, you found yourself sitting in the cockpit watching hyperspace fly by, Omega in your lap slowly falling asleep but doing her best to stay awake. How she could become fast friends with you was something you’d never understand, but it felt like you’d known her for much longer than you did.

Most of the others went to sleep for the rest of the ride, Tech seemed to be tinkering with something just beyond the cockpit. Hunter had been with you but stepped back a bit, possibly figuring out space issues.

“Omega, you’ve been a great hostess but you can go to sleep.”

She rubbed her eyes before laying her head back on your shoulder. “I’m not sleepy”.

“Ha, okay.” You brought your hand to her head to stroke it, running your fingers through her hair. She seemed to melt closer to you. Your eyes were also heavy, and this would fix the shortage of beds problem, if you just… slept here. Almost absentmindedly, you started to hum to Omega, lulling her to sleep.

“♪ I close my eyes

Only for a moment, and the moment's gone

All my dreams

Pass before my eyes, a curiosity

Dust in the wind

All they are is dust in the wind ♪”

Unbeknownst to you, Hunter had returned and leaned against the doorframe. In his hand, he had a blanket. He waited until both of your breaths became even to make sure you were asleep before putting the blanket over both of you and took a seat.

Part 4

_______________________________________________________

Notes:

Bogling: basically a racoon sized squirrel. Could be dangerous if they get into the vents of your ship, but otherwise, pretty cute. First Fallen Order "reference".

Dust in the Wind - Kansas: This is where the name of the fic comes from. Roll credits. It'll come up a few times like a connection. There's a reason, not necessarily a good one but it's not like a "aha! gotcha" sorta thing. I hope that it's not too cheesy.

[kuroopaisen]

happy accident || iwaizumi hajime

➵ writing a love letter is stupid. childish, even. but it’s no big deal, so long as iwaizumi hajime doesn’t get his hands on it... right? 

 wc: 4k

warnings: f!reader is the captain of the girls volleyball team, cursing 

request: “kind of specific, hope you don't mind but possibly iwa-chan attempting teenage love by accepting the feelings of an accidentally-sent love letter from the girl's volleyball team captain?”

a/n: this was so fun, thank you for requesting it! a big thank you to @nostalgic-yet-forgotten for beta’ing this! 

“Thank you,” Iwaizumi said, offering you a strained smile as he held your pencil out to you.

“Not a problem,” you nodded, trying to take it out of his hand with as little contact as possible.

“Hey, uh,” he stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder at you. “How are you doing contemporary lit?”

“Contemporary lit?” You frowned. “I, uh… fine? Not great, but…”

“Right,” Iwaizumi nodded, clearing his throat. “Well, see you around.”

“Sure.”

With that, he was gone.

You watch him go with a budding discontent.

What was that? That barely counted as a conversation. And for God’s sake, why had it taken him a week to return your damn pencil? You’d just assumed he’d forgotten.

You could feel Yuri’s eyes burning into the back of your skull.

“I know,” you grumbled as she zipped to your side, taking her usual spot on your bench. You’d both made a habit of sitting here during lunch – a stone’s throw from the gym, and a short walk to the vending machine.  

“Was that…”

“It was.”

“Fraternising with the enemy, I see.”

“It’s not like that and you know it.” You glared at her, reaching into your bag in some attempt to leave the conversation.

‘Fraternising with the enemy’ was one way of putting it. The ‘enemy’ being a member of Seijoh’s famous volleyball team.

Well, the boys’ volleyball team. That was the only one people wanted to talk about. The girls' team never seemed to get as much attention. And that, quite frankly, was unfair. Yes, the boys' team worked hard; but so did you. So did your girls.

Also, if it weren't for your boundless grace -- and the acknowledgement that a criminal record might mar your college applications -- you would've shoved your fist down Oikawa Tooru's throat by now. He was talented, yes, but you’d always found him kind of an ass. Made worse by all the attention he got – his personality plus an adoring fan club always seemed a recipe for disaster to you.

Iwaizumi Haijme, however, was another matter entirely.

A matter you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Why do you look so angry?” Yuri frowned, tilting her head at you.

“Because, uh… because Iwaizumi took all week to return my damn pencil,” you huffed, shoving the offending object into your pencil case. “And he decided to ruin a perfectly good lunchtime just to return it.”

“Don’t you have a crush on him?” Yuri asked in a hushed tone, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Yeah, but…” You sucked your breath in through your teeth. “I'm mad about it."

"You're mad about having a crush on him?" She raised an eyebrow at you.

"Yeah."

"Why exactly?"

"Because he's…"

There wasn't any real reason. You just felt that there had to be some natural rivalry between the two of you, given the state of your respective teams. Sure, Iwaizumi himself hadn't done anything wrong, but it was the principle of it. Worst of all, he was best friends with Oikawa Tooru. Sure, he seemed to be… long-suffering, but the connection was there.

“I’m just mad, okay?” You whispered, hoping to God none of your classmates had decided to eavesdrop on the conversation. But that’s the price you paid, talking about such things so brazenly. “I’ve got all these… these feelings but they’ve got nowhere to go.”

“What do you mean?” Yuri asked, taking a sip of her milk.

“Well, you know,” you mumbled, playing with the hem of your skirt. “I’m never going to tell him about it, so they just… sort of sit there. Stewing. Unanswered.” You groaned, running a hand through your hair. “I just want them to go away.”

That, really, would be the most ideal situation. But no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop thinking about him. Embarrassing, really.

"Look," Yuri sighed, looking up at the sky. "Why don't you just write him a love letter?"

"You're kidding, right?" You scoffed. "Do you want me to do a whole confession? Ask him to meet me on the rooftop after school as the sun sets behind us?"

"You're not going to give it to him, you idiot," she mumbled. "Just to like... get your feelings out, you know? Teen angst and whatnot."

"You're making very little sense."

"Okay, three things," she said, holding up her hand. "One, you're not going to tell him how you feel, right? That means you're just gonna stew in your feelings. Like you always do."

"Uncalled for, but okay.”  

"Two, sometimes writing down how your feeling is cathartic. And maybe that'll help you move on."

"Or it could complicate things because I'll overthink it."

"Three, I, personally, am sick and tired of hearing about Mr. Iwaizumi 'personally crafted by the hands of Michelangelo himself' Hajime, and therefore implore you to try getting him out of your system through any means possible."

"I don't talk about him that much." Did you?

Yuri gave you a dithering look. "No, you don't. Just like Oikawa's fan club never talks about his ridiculously swoopy hair."

You glared at her, crossing your arms over your chest. “You make it sound like he’s the only thing I ever talk about.”

“Oh, not at all,” Yuri shrugged. “But I can’t help but think you’d be a lot less angry if you got over him.”

“And you think writing a stupid love letter is going to help me do that?” You rolled your eyes. You knew Yuri wasn’t stupid – she was almost aggravatingly clever, sometimes – but this was the worst plan you’d heard from her in a while.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “It’s worth a shot, right?”

“I’m not writing a damn love letter okay?”

✧✧✧

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all,” Yuri grinned. “Just do it for me, okay? As an early birthday gift.”

“Yuri, your birthday’s not for another three months.”

“Just do it. Or else I will march up to that boy and tell him myself.”

You knew she was more than capable of making good on a threat like that. Best not to risk it.

"You want me to write it now?" You frowned, looking between your best friend and the writing pad set on your lap. You’d hoped she’d forgotten your conversation from yesterday, but you never got that lucky. Not with Yuri.

"Uh huh," Yuri yawned, sitting cross-legged on the bench.

She'd dragged you into the gym just as school had ended, telling you that it was for something very important and very urgent.

"Why?"

"I wanna see you actually go through with it," she shrugged, taking a sip from the juice box in her hand.

"Can't I just… do it at home and send you a photo?" You tilted your head at her. You still had to survive practice, after all. And there was a chance you’d bump into him before the day was done.  

Yuri shook her head. "Nah. If you're alone -- and if you have all evening to do it -- you'll just overthink it and that'll defeat the point."

You glared at her. She hardly seemed to notice.

"Besides," she shrugged. "If you do it at home, you'll just text me about him."

“Yuri, I do not—”

“Letter,” she hummed, tapping the paper. “We don’t have much time.”

She wasn’t about to concede any time soon. You could see it in her eyes.

"I literally cannot believe you're making me do this," you grumbled, picking up the pencil with tense fingers.

"It's for your own good," she sighed, waving her hand at you. "Then you can shift your focus to the real prize of the boys' volleyball team."

You raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm talking about Makki, duh."

You snorted. "That wouldn't really fix my problem, would it?"

Yuri shrugged. "Hey, at least he'd be more fun to talk about than Iwaizumi."

"And that's because…"

"I dunno. He seems off-beat. Kinda weird."

"Don't be mean."

"I'm not! It's a compliment!"

"So, will you be writing him a love letter, or?"

"I didn't say I'm interested, I just—" Yuri took a deep breath, pressing her eyelids with two fingers. "Look, just write the damn letter!"

It was easier than you thought it would be. That in itself was more embarrassing than the fact you were writing an honest to God love letter to Iwaizumi Hajime. As much as you were resisting it, the words just flowed.

You hadn’t even realised there were so many things to like about him. And apparently, you’d noticed all of them. Maybe you were in deeper than you’d thought.

And this letter was getting a lot longer than you’d expected.

Alright. That was enough.

“Done,” you sighed, tossing the pencil onto the writing pad with a little more force than necessary.

“So,” Yuri drawled, tilting her head at you. “How do you feel?”

“Worse!” You cried. “Now I’ve actually had to think about why I like him and that makes it worse.”

“Ah. My bad.”

“This is going in the bin right now,” you huffed, standing to your feet. “And we are never speaking about this ever again.”

“Duly noted,” Yuri sighed, slipping off the table.

You stormed out of the locker room, tossing the cursed letter at the bin. You never wanted to see that damned thing ever again.

✧✧✧ 

"Guess what I found!"

Yahaba's voice rang through the locker room, a tad too much delight in his voice.

“Your dignity?” Matsukawa called out.  

"Even better," Yahaba's face appeared from the doorway, grinning. "It's a love letter."

He held his hand up, a small, crumpled piece of paper pinched between his fingers.

"Just put it with the rest of them," Oikawa sighed, waving a hand at him. Iwaizumi's eye twitched.

"Uh…" Yahaba cleared his throat, eyes flicking to where the rest of the third years were standing. "It's not actually for you."

Everyone's head perked up at that.

"Huh?" Matsukawa tilted his head to the side.

"Who's it for, then?" Kindaichi asked quietly, the top of his ears blushed red.

"Iwaizumi."

A moment of shocked silence.

"What?"

All eyes were on him. Iwaizumi could already feel his cheeks growing red.

Someone had left a letter for… him? Not for Oikawa?

Seriously?

Yahaba slunk towards him, holding the letter out. The fact he seemed a little nervous about it made Iwaizumi feel something akin to annoyance.

"Did you read it?" Iwaizumi swallowed roughly, yanking it from Yahaba's hand like an unlucky fortune strip.

"Just who it's for," Yahaba said, eyes on the ground. Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, but he didn't press the issue further.

There was no way this letter was supposed to end up in his hands. None at all.

"Well, are you gonna read it?" Hanamaki was smirking. Iwaizumi didn't even need to look at him to be sure of that.

"No," Iwaizumi grumbled. "Isn't that a little rude?"

"But Iwa, the drama--"

"Don't be an ass," he grunted, cutting Oikawa off. Sure, he was curious himself, but he wasn't going to embarrass the writer. Not if it wasn't even meant to get to him. 

“Fine,” Oikawa sighed, waving a hand at him. “Let’s start, okay?”

Iwaizumi tried to ignore the strange feeling in his chest for the entirety of practice. He really, truly did.  

But by the time he got home, his curiosity had reached its absolute limit.

He lay on his bed, turning the letter over in his hands. Something about it felt so… sacred. So forbidden. It had his name on it, but it hadn’t been given to him by anyone. It hadn’t even been left anywhere for him. Yahaba had ‘found’ it.

Should he read it? Should he put it in the bin?

Thoughts about what it might say had hounded him all practice. He could barely focus on the matter at hand – no, he just kept wondering who could possibly have written him a love letter.

He had to read the damn thing. If he didn’t, he was sure the suspense would drive him mad.

He sighed, unfolding it.

 “Dear Hajime Iwaizumi,

Admittedly I'm not great at this sort of thing. It wasn't even my idea. You can thank Yuri for that. Apparently I talk about you too much so she told me to put my feelings down on paper. So, that's what I'm trying to do.”

He frowned. Yuri? Wasn’t that the vice-captain of the girls’ team? And the author talked about him too much? A girl talked about him? Not in comparison to Oikawa?

I first noticed you in our first year (I promise I'm not about to launch into a whole retrospective -- that's not only a waste of time, but it's also deeply unromantic), when you made a killer spike during practice. I came to watch because I wanted to scope out what the boy's team was like. I didn't expect to be genuinely impressed. So, congrats, I guess? Good job?

Practice? The author had been there during practice? Why would they want to ‘scope out’ what the boy’s team was like? He’d assume it was one of Oikawa’s fans, but…

Anyway, I thought you were kind of cute, so I kept an eye on you. Oh man, that sounds creepy. I promise I didn't get up to anything weird, I just yearned from afar. I thought it would pass. But then, like, halfway through second year you got hot. So, fuck you for that one.”

He snorted at that.

“Okay, this is sounding less like a confession and more like a list of your crimes. Sorry, just some of that unnecessary rivalry I've built up in my head towards the boys' team.”

The reference to the ‘boys’ team’ again. Was this who he thought it was?

No. He wouldn’t let himself hope.

“That aside, I couldn't help but notice how dedicated you are to the sport. How hard you work. How much you apply yourself. It mustn't be easy, keeping Oikawa in check; he strikes me as the sort who's prone to self-destructing if no-one's looking. But it's like you keep him grounded. I'm not sure if you get praise enough for that.  

And I can tell that your team really, really respects you. Especially your underclassmen. That's no small feat, you know. I mean, I'm sure you do know, but—”

He pressed a hand to his face. Yep. He was burning up, alright.

“I don't quite know how to explain it, but I see this kindness in you as well. We've only spoken a handful of times, but when we have, I've always felt like you've respected me and what I have to say. A lot of the girls are scared shitless of you, but they all feel safe when you're around.”

‘The girls’? As in… the girls’ volleyball team? God, what he wouldn’t give…   

“Okay, I'm definitely rambling, and I'm not making a lot of sense, but thank you for being a good guy. That's a big part of why I'm so attracted to you.

So, this has gotten embarrassingly long. I'm sure my face is bright red as I write this.”

If only he could let the author know that his face was just as red while reading it.

“TL;DR -- you're hot and you seem cool. Also, you look great when you're all sweaty after practice. I don't know how you manage it.

Okay bye.”

And there, at the very bottom, was your name.

His heart felt like it was going to both collapse and burst through his chest.

You’d written all that. You. The captain of the girls’ volleyball team. The girl that made his heart beat a little faster whenever you walked in the room. The girl he kept borrowing stationery from because it gave him an excuse to talk to you. The girl he was sure overlooked him for other members of his team.

You’d written him a love letter.

What should he do? What should he say? Should he say anything? You hadn’t actually given it to him yourself. Did that mean you didn’t want him to see it?

God, he felt like he needed to get up and pace. He sat up, slinging his legs over the side of his bed.

He couldn’t just ignore this. Not when you’d said all that. Not when he’d been paying just as much attention to you these past three years. But again, you hadn’t handed it to him yourself, and –

He clapped his cheeks in a poor attempt to ground himself.

No. He had to act on this.

And soon.

✧✧✧ 

"He's here."

"Huh?"

Yuri nodded at the door of the gym. You looked over your shoulder. Huh? Iwaizumi?

"Do you know why?" You asked, turning back to your best friend.

"No idea," Yuri shrugged. "Looks like he wants to talk to you, though."

You frowned, turning to look at him again. He gave you a tiny wave. It looked so bizarre coming from him. But, admittedly, it was kind of cute. "He better not be trying to kick us out of the gym," you mumbled, turning around and jogging towards him.

Iwaizumi took a step back as you closed in, putting a bit more distance between the two of you.

Rude, you thought. Even after I’ve written him a love letter and everything. Not that he knew that.

“How can I help you?” You sighed, trying to smile at him a little.

“Uh…” He was staring at his feet. That was unusual. He always made eye contact with you – and you knew, because you always had to make sure you weren’t intimidated by those striking eyes of his.

Was he… blushing a little?

What’s going on?

“Can I speak to you in private?” He sounded nervous. Why on earth –

Oh. Oh no.

You could feel your teammates staring at you. Not that they knew what had happened. But there were certainly whispers about you and Iwaizumi.

"Outside," you barked, pointing one stiff arm out the door. "Now."

Iwaizumi nodded, turning on his heels and marching away.

You scurried after him, your mind bubbling with a whole slew of anxieties. Were you about to get rejected? How did he even get his hands on that cursed letter in the first place? Couldn’t he have just ignored it?

You walked a short distance from the gym, tucked around the side. At the very least, he’d chosen a location that’d minimise the number of passers-by.

But it was also the side of the gym that faced the setting sun. Meaning that a warm glow was illuminating his aggravatingly handsome features in the most delightful way.

You felt like you were about to die.

You were about to be rejected by The Iwaizumi Haijime while he looked this beautiful—

“Here,” he mumbled, holding the letter out to you.

You frowned. You hadn’t seen him get it out. “Where did you get this?”

“One of the guys found it,” he shrugged.

Oh. Of course. You may as well start digging your own grave.

“Are you okay?” He asked, letting his arm drop to the side when you made no move to grab that cursed little McGuffin.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” you swallowed, hands gripping your shorts.

“Oh…”

“My friend, she—she thought that I should write about my feelings for you to get them out of my system, so—” Why were you telling him all this? This just made you feel worse?

“Oh,” he swallowed. “I see.”

A pause. A deeply painful pause.

“So you don’t feel like this anymore?”

Was that… disappointment on his face? Heartbreak? Something of a similar ilk?

Oh. Oh, letting yourself hope was a very bad idea. But you couldn’t help it.

You shook your head, your cheeks beginning to head up. “I… I definitely still feel all those things I put in the letter.” Truth be told, you couldn’t remember the details very well. God, you hoped they weren’t too embarrassing. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, let’s just… pretend it never happened.”

You tried to smile, but you didn’t know how convincing it was. It definitely wasn’t.

He smiled. God, he was so damn beautiful. You really were going to die.

You’d never seen him smile like this before, had you? That was a damned shame. At least it would be the last thing you saw before you—

“What if I don’t want to pretend this never happened, though?”

Wait, what? Had he really just said that?

“Why… why wouldn’t you?” Your heart was about to hammer its way through your ribcage, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

He finally looked you in the eyes. His own were so intense, so beautifully green. “Well, I-I was hoping I’d be able to take you out on a date.”

Oh shit. Did the great Iwaizumi Hajime just stutter?

Your face bloomed red. “I’d love that,” was the only thing you could choke out.

And God, his smile. The one you’d seen just a few minutes earlier was nothing compared to this. No, this smile was the last hit you could take.

Iwaizumi wondered if he should do something; hug you, hold your hand, kiss your cheek. But he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep it together if he did.

So, he just gave you some kind of nod-bow – something a little awkward yet earnest.

You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture.

“So,” he rose back to full height, clearing his throat. “Friday, after practice?”

You tilted your head at him. “Won’t you be all sweaty, though?”

A new kind of smile touched his lips. Three flavours of Iwaizumi Hajime’s smile in one day. You truly were blessed.

“I thought you liked me like that.”

Oh shit. Oh fuck. You’d written that in the letter, hadn’t you?

You clamped your hands over your face. You couldn’t look at him anymore. Not today, at least.

Iwaizumi laughed gently. God, you were so cute. “Really, though. Is that time okay with you?”

You just nodded, hands still covering your face.

“I look forward to it,” he said. And he smiled, even though he knew you couldn’t see it.

He wanted to say something else. To compliment you, maybe. But he couldn’t think of what to say – there was too much, and he didn’t know how to phrase any of it.

And, he didn’t want to embarrass you. You looked one compliment away from an implosion.

“See you around,” he murmured. And with that, he walk-jogged back the way he came. He just hoped that his face wasn’t too red. The guys would never let him live that down.

You peeked through your fingers. Yep, he was definitely gone.

You keeled over, taking a deep breath. Did you really manage to make it through that in one piece? Without saying anything too embarrassing? Well, past the fact that your shitty love letter had ended up in his hands…

But that didn’t matter much. No, there was something much more important.

The Iwaizumi Hajime wanted to take you on a date. Did that mean he liked you, too? Well, he obviously liked you a little, since he’d asked, but…

Oh, this was so embarrassing. You really needed to get yourself together.

You had a date on Friday, after all. 

✧✧✧

“Good job letting one of the second years find it,” Yuri murmured, peeking around the corner.

“Ah, well,” Hanamaki chuckled, “that’s how you make it look even more like an accident.”

Yuri looked over her shoulder at him. “Am I a bad person?”

Hanamaki shook his head. “Nah. They needed this push, y’know?”

“Yeah, but…” Yuri bit her lip. “You do realise they’re both perfectly capable of killing us, right? And that’s on their own. Imagine what their combined power looks like.”

“It’ll be fine,” Hanamaki grinned, waving a hand at her. “They’ll be too loved up to notice.”

Yuri frowned, staring off into the distance for a moment.

All’s well that ends well, I suppose, she thought. After all, both her and Hanamaki had worked far too hard to make this happen. At middling cost.

“You know, I had to stick my hand in the garbage for that letter.”

“You did what?”  

[nxrthmizu]

#28 with Daminette, please! Also I love your works!

Prompt: ‘Pretending to be a couple and this is a huge mistake AU’ 

Pairing: Daminette

Words: 2904 words 

Note: I kind of changed up the idea a little, hope you don’t mind... 

[Thank you so much for the request hun, I’m so sorry it took be so long...

Enjoy! 💖💖💖]

- Cady

---

Damian had always thought that turning eighteen was a privilege. Boy, was he wrong. It was, in fact, a nuisance.

“Mr. Wayne! Do you have a special someone yet?”

“Mr. Wayne, my daughter is 18 and single, would you like to-”

"Mr. Wayne-"

Galas became a swarming mass of reporters and fathers seeking marriage for their daughters. He could constantly feel chills along his back as women stared at him shamelessly as if he were a prize, their predatorial gaze piercing through his soul. Annoyance tainted every aspect of his features at galas, his siblings constantly reminding him to not scowl so much. But honestly, could you blame him? He couldn’t go anywhere without being pestered by twenty reporters about his love life.

Heck, if he wanted to get a cup of coffee by himself, he had to dress up like a criminal avoiding attention. Lucky for him, there was one special cafe that was out of the way and always offered a little quiet for him- As quiet as it could get, anyway.

The Lucky Bug Cafe.

It was quiet and tucked behind a little street, often filled with just one or two students studying quietly and an old couple casually relaxing by the corner. The Lucky Bug Cafe was run by a single, dark-haired woman who looked at him and thought: ‘Ah, he needs somewhere to lay low for a while’ instead of ‘It’s the heir of the Wayne Enterprises, the Damian Wayne’.

It was another casual morning, and Damian needed his fix of coffee before heading to the office, where he would oversee his father’s (And soon to be his) employees while self-studying his business course. A long day lay in wait ahead of him, and Damian would appreciate and nice, aromatic cup of brewed coffee before he had to survive on the machine-made coffee for the rest of the day.

“Good morning.” The dark-haired woman greeted him with a warm smile, her bluebell eyes twinkling under the glow of the yellow lightbulbs. “The usual?”

“The usual.” Damian nodded, hoodie covering his face.

Leaning against the counter, he watched as she bustled around the area, turning on the machine, humming a song to herself as she headed over to the fridge for fresh milk. He glanced at the glass display case under the counter, eyes flitting over the batches of pastries that she had made for the day.

“Could I get five mint-flavoured macarons, please?” He asked as she set his coffee on the collection counter.

“Oh, of course.” She smiled brightly, already grabbing a paper bag. “They’re my new recipe! Do tell me what you think of them tomorrow.”

Damian smiled, his features softening at the woman’s words. “Sure. Oh, and how’s your website holding up?”

Perhaps one of the reasons they clicked so well together was because they were both... Well, famous. Except that he was the future boss of the Wayne Enterprises and she was the anonymous designer of Nette’s Design and Clothing. Articles concerning the identity of the anonymous designer popped up occasionally on Gotham’s magazines, not to mention that the celebrities that wore her work often ended up on the front page of fashion magazines.

“Good. It’s getting a little flooded these days, but I think I’ll manage.” She said with a giggle, winking at him. To anyone else, it would seem like they were talking about a small, by-the-side online clothing commission business, but both of them knew the true value of their conversation. “Need me to make you a new suit for the gala?”

It was then the idea struck him.

He processed it, and a fierce blush erupted on his cheeks, the said man nearly dropping his paper bag of macarons in the process as he fully understood his idea.

“Are- Are you okay?” She asked instantly, worry clouding her features.

“Yea-Yeah. I’m fine. I’ll... Get back to you on that.” He stammered, knowing that if he stayed a second longer, he was going to blurt out his crazy, stupid idea, and everything was going to be over.

Except that he couldn’t get the idea out of his head as he stared at the ceiling, sleep refusing to overtake him. The idea wouldn’t even leave him alone as he leapt across the streets of Gotham, keeping an eye out for crime.

If he brought Marinette to the gala with him, all the reporters would get off his back.

But then again, Marinette would never have peace again, and he couldn’t do that to her... Right...?

“Morning.” Damian greeted her the next day, dressed in a dark green hoodie. To anyone else, it would seem like a normal hoodie, but in reality, it was his favourite hoodie. ‘NDC’ was stitched in with golden thread on the inside of the sweater- The work of his favourite coffee shop owner. She had gave it to him after two months of their discreet friendship, and it was one of his most valued possessions.

"Morning," She replied with a gentle smile, her eyes morphing into little crescents as she did so. "The usual?" Her fingers never stopped moving, constantly wiping the counter clean or preparing a cup of warm milk. It was just one of the things he found adorable admirable.

"Yeah."

Before he could think, his mouth acted on its own. “Do you think you could be my date for the gala?” He blurted out suddenly, freezing when her movements came to an abrupt stop. Bluebell eyes slowly flicked up to his emerald ones, his heart jumping out of his ribs when those soft orbs stared into his. “You don’t have to say yes, I was just wondering-”

“Okay.”

He could feel his heart fluttering happily as she smiled, her eyes twinkling in bluebell crescents and her lips a soft curve.

“If you don’t mind, could I maybe go as... You know.” She asked shyly, brushing one of her hair strands behind her ears. “I know you want a date because... Well.” She laughed. “The attention, but I was hoping I could go as... Nette instead of... Well, plain ol’ Mari.”

“You’re not plain.” He responded instantly like a reflex action, tone cutting but soft at the same time. “But if you want to go as... It’s your choice. And... Thank you. For understanding.”

The smile she returned him was worth more than a thousand dollars, he thought.

---

Slicking his hair into a neat, presentable style, Damian checked his appearance in the mirror for the last time. The day of the gala had arrived, and they had already discussed all the details of the night over text. They would pretend to be a couple so that the reporters would finally get off Damian’s back, and ‘Nette’ would get her first appearance in public- They had both agreed that Marinette would wear a mask in order to preserve her identity, so that she could stay in a quiet world for just a little longer before she planned her official debut to the world.

The suit felt soft to the touch, a silk moisture across the shiny surface of the dark fabric. Gold threads wrapped around the jade green that Marinette had chosen as the accent of the suit. A jade tie with the same golden embroidery accompanied the suit and the dark-moss green dress-shirt that he had on underneath. ‘NDC’ was stitched carefully in the same cursive lettering that it was on the corner of the suit, the trademark of the designer’s handiwork.

Not wanting to answer his family’s pestering questions, Damian slipped out of the house, acknowledging and thanking whatever deity out there for the wonderful man named Alfred Pennyworth.

Alfred gave Damian a knowing smile, handing him the keys to his new car. “Thank you.” The youngest Wayne thanked the butler, the keys jingling in his hands.

“Treat her like the lady she is.” Alfred advised him, stepping forward to adjust the emerald-eyed man’s tie. There was a quiet, lingering thought inside the older man’s head, but after one more glance at the nervous young adult with a cold outer shell, he decided against the remark.

The car engine rumbled to life with a purr, pulling out of the garage. Alfred watched as the tail lights disappeared into the evening, the thought still clear in his mind.

He’s in love and he doesn’t even realise it.

---

“Hey.”

She opened the door with a smile- God, she never stopped smiling, did she? A little twirl showed off her dress, made in the same palette as his suit. Jade green and moss green strips of thick fabric made the dress blossom into a flower shape around her ankles. The top half of the dress hugged her curves in all the right ways, a braided rope going over her neck to hold the dress up. The sleeveless-ness of the dress showed off the smooth skin of the designer, not to mention her striking, sharp collarbones that were on full display.

“You look beautiful.” He managed, knowing full well it was a lie that he had just uttered. She wasn’t beautiful, god, no. She was absolutely stunning and gorgeous, and he would give anything to keep that smile on her lips. He had to mutter up all of his resistance and self-control to prevent himself from reaching out to stroke her soft, dark hair.

“Thank you.” The smile would’ve made him melt into a Damian-shaped puddle, except he had a date and he would have to wait until the night was over to melt into a puddle. “Shall we?”

He offered her his arm, like the gentleman his dad butler had taught and raised him to be. The feeling of her soft skin in his hands made roses flower over his cheeks, his heart beat a little louder, and the affectionate feeling in his chest double in size.

The drive to the gala was the most interesting car ride he ever had. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel as he listened to her sing to the songs on the radio, occasionally joining in shyly, both their voices dancing in an intricate dance of harmony. Her laugh tinkled like wind chimes; her smile glowed like the moon on a clear night; her voice soothed his soul like a warm bowl of soup. There was absolutely nothing on his mind but her and her only.

“Are you ready?” He asked, pulling up in front of the gala’s entrance. Reaching for the mask on her lap, he placed in on her gently, careful not to tug on her hair as he adjusted it.

“For our fake date?” She giggled. “As I’ll ever be.”

A smile danced on his lips as he pushed the car door open, for once, not annoyed by the bright flashes of the cameras. He wanted the world to know how amazing Marinette Dupain-Cheng was, and he wanted her to rise to top of the fashion world and beyond. There was nothing that would make him feel more honoured than the fact that he would be the one that introduced her to the world, watching as she took over the rest of the fashion kingdom like the queen she was.

“M’lady.” He whispered, pulling her car door open as he offered his hand for her, bowing slightly. Whispers clouded the air, quickly replaced by gasps as Marinette took it gracefully, stepping out with the aura of a goddess. He planted a light kiss on her palm, emerald eyes bright and soft in the dying light of the evening.

“Thank you. Shall we?” She smiled in return, never removing her hand from his grasp.

He nodded to her, gesturing for the valet to take his car away, tossing the man the keys. He normally wouldn’t trust anyone else with his car, but at the moment, escorting to beautiful bluenette was the only priority in his mind.

Because she was the only thing that mattered, after all.

---

Funnily enough, he didn’t feel triumphant at all.

Damian had thought that if he got a woman to pretend to be his girlfriend, well, he would enjoy the disappointed looks on the fathers’ faces and the burning anger in the girls’ eyes. Well, it wasn’t the case at all.

He was absolutely mesmerised with the designer next to him, who was talking gracefully to the CEO of one of Gotham’s fashion magazines. She was the definition of grace, beauty, and poise. Everything about her said goddess. She practically radiated power into the room, even when she didn’t realise it. There was a calm to her that made her seem like a cool-headed queen, and boy he would be willing to be her knight any day.

“I’m going to go get some wine.” He whispered to her, arm looping around her waist naturally. They truly did give off the ‘dating’ vibe, but he was too absorbed in her to notice.

“Okay.” She smiled, only this time it made him feel something else. No, not just a little flutter of his stomach, or a resounding thump of his heart. In fact, the first thought going through his head was that he wished, hoped, prayed that he could wake up to that smile for the rest of his life. He could picture it in his mind- Her, curled in his arms, her dark hair spreading into an intricate net behind her, eyes closed softly.

He could see her eyes fluttering open, see her yawn and stretch before nestling back into his embrace, only this time her eyes were open and there was a loving smile on her lips, and she was speaking.

“Morning, love.”

It took him a moment to realise that he had been stupidly standing there after stating that he was going to get them some drinks. Both the CEO and Marinette stared at him expectantly, wondering why he had suddenly got into a daze.

He found a waiter, easily plucking two wine glasses from the man’s tray before making his way through the crowd, who parted for him like the red sea parted for Moses. It was infuriating; He couldn’t get the picture out of his head. Her, nestled into his arms... No, they were on a fake date, and it was only for one sole purpose... It wasn’t as if he liked her... Right?

Wrong.

---

He made a mistake.

It wasn’t until after the night ended that he begin to feel the pain. His heart ached when she left, thanking him for the night. For the next few days, photos of Damian Wayne and the mysterious, masked Nette clouded the cover pages of magazines, reminding him over and over of that one night that he got to live.

His family hadn’t stopped pestering him about what in the world happened, Damian, and after Tim had found out Nette’s identity through the batcomputer’s wide database, it didn’t take long for the rest of the family to piece ‘Damian-might’ve-fell-in-love-with-a-cafe-shop-owner-who-happens-to-be-a-world-wide-famous-designer’ together. 

“You should ask her on a real date sometime soon, Master Wayne.” Alfred told him offhandedly as Damian strolled into the kitchen. The butler was busy polishing wine glasses, placing them neatly back onto the shelf when he was done.

“It’s kind of too late.” He muttered quietly, sinking onto the chair, the soft fabric of the dark green sweater comforting him.

Alfred sighed, placing down the glass with a sonorous clink. “It’s never too late for anything, Master Wayne. Not if you take the chance and make a move.” Damian met the older man’s eyes for a second, realising what he needed to do. It was as if someone had took a lighter and relit the candle in his heart.

“I’m going out, Alfred.” He said abruptly, never pausing to see the proud smile on the older man’s face. “I don’t think I’ll be home for dinner.”

“Noted, Master Wayne. Your car keys are on the counter in the living room.”

---

He didn’t bother to pull on his hoodie, barging through the back door of the Lucky Cat Cafe before turning back on second thought, closing the door gently, muttering a sorry to the poor door that just got kicked open in the heat of the moment.

“Why are you apologising to a door?” Her laugh sounded behind her, the woman giving him an amused look.

“I... Kicked it open.” He admitted, before remembering what he had come to do. “Marinette.”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Yeah?”

“I know the gala was a fake date, and we did it because it benefitted the both of us, but-!” He caught himself, realising that for once he was doing something without a plan. “But I don’t want that.”

She stared at him blankly. “Um... That’s fine. We didn’t tell the media we were dating, it could’ve been a one-time thing...”

“No!” He burst out, his heart nearly overflowing with emotions. “It took me a long time, but I-! I want to date you. For real. And take you out. And do the sappy things that Grayson does with his girlfriend. And take care of you. I want to date you for real.”

Her mouth was open in an ‘o’, and he wondered briefly if he broke her. Then a smile slipped across her lips, and he could see it again- Both of them, sharing a home, sharing a life, and then a child with dark blue hair and emerald eyes-

“Okay.”

---

sjskjsks I was so worried about the plot!!! Was it choppy? And in the words of my ninth grade english teacher, did it lack fLoW??? I’m so sorry if it didn’t live up to expectations, I lost where I was going with this- 

On another note I have this headcannon that the two students and old couple always knew that he was Damian Wayne, they were just ‘oh he’s totally in love with Mari, this is really sweet and we’re going to stick around and watch’ and when he asked her out for the gala he was actually being really loud and they were all just legit eavesdropping and the two students going ‘jskjskjkjkjs he finally asked her out oh my god the ship is sailing’ and the old couple going ‘aww how sweet’ and ‘my boy finally got his courage together, so proud of him even tho im not his dad but still’. 

Anyways I was thinking of another way to get around the MDC nickname for Mari as a designer and I thought Nette would be a cool name for her, and DC stands for Design and Clothing. 

Once again thanks for sending in the request, sorry that it took so long bby <3 

Requests are open, just head over to my blog, check out the rules and specifications, then shoot your request right into my inbox, I’ll be waiting. 

Also I’m watching Haikyu and I am IN LOVE with those babies, gonna start writing fics and opening up requests for the Haikyu fandom once I get a better grip on the characters’ personality. 

Okay, I’ve been talking too much. Bye and thanks for sticking around to the very end, lol. I can be quite talkative when I’m typing anddd I’m just going to stop now before I write another paragraph 

- Cady

[sery-chan-13]

Knowing You Again

Chapter 6 of '100 Promises'

Chapter 5 | Chapter 7

Warnings: Swearing, bullying, I think that's it, let me know if I missed any

"Wow this place is amazing! So many games!" You awed, amazed by the amount of games and the lights. "Yeah, it's not anything like the one I went to on break, but since I can't take you there yet, I thought here would be good," he explained. "Thank you!" You exclaimed, hugging him and jumping up and down. He laughed, "Ok, ok. Calm down! What game do you want to play first?" You looked around, seeing all the different games, the people rushing from the machines and back. And you saw one that wasn't being used. You lead him over to it. "This one?" You asked. He nodded, and you two began on the game.

You walked into the grand lobby of the hotel, and sat on one of the waiting chairs. You watched in curiosity as people filed in their groups, cheering and laughing. Even if they'd lost a member, they were happy to be alive. A relief that it wasn't them. Maybe it was that everyone here had begun to accept their new reality. It made you smile in the slightest, that not all the people here were weak and useless. "Hey there new girl," someone said from besides you. "Hi Chishiya," you greeted without even turning to look besides you. "Hm? Attentive," he said. You didn't have to look to know he was smirking. "No, your voice is just very distinctive. It's soft, but also a very condescending undertone in it. Give people the illusion you know more than them," you stated, finally looking at him. "The hell did you study in college?" He asked with a laugh. "Major in forensics, minor in psychology. I'm pretty good at psychological mind fucking," you stated. He smiled, looking up. "Mind fucking? That's how I know you're friends with that idiot," he said. "Idiot? Niragi? No way. He studied game programming and engineering, and is 20 times smarter than anyone I've ever met," you said, surprised anyone could call him an idiot. How much did he change in the borderlands? Even then, his intelligence wouldn't have faded. So what did he do? "Hmm... maybe I'll change your opinion. You haven't met someone like me before," he said, looking at you. His eyes stared back into your own. It was like he was seeing into your soul, trying to really read into you. "I like a challenge. Impress me," you stated, a smirk playing on your lips. "Will do. Your friend is up on the roof for his patrol. I'll see you later at the pool. Kuina is quite fond of you. You two get along well," Chishiya said, walking off. You stood up, walking over to the grand stair case.

"I haven't slept in 4 days... gods help me," you groaned, running your hands up through your hair, it getting stuck from the knots. "Fuck me... SUGU! ARE YOU ALIVE?" you yelled. You heard a groan in response. He came out of his room, his hair sticking up every which way, his glasses were crooked on his face, and there were dark eyebags under his eyes. "I think... I think I'm alive..." he said. He was almost falling asleep standing up. "You need to take a nap," you suggested, standing up and walking over to him, yawning and rubbing your eyes. "No, I need to finish my project, you need a nap," he said, as you fixed his glasses. He could see that you were also running on no sleep. The dark eyebags under your eyes, your messed up tangled hair. It was different to say the least. You always looked nice, but college said no, please fuck up your sleep schedule to get this project done for me. Oh, and it a worth 75% of your grade! He hated school, but enjoyed what he was studying. Your projects took longer, and we're a bit gross at times, seeing as you had to take both forensics and psychology classes. "How about coffee instead then? I have a project to finish too..." you said, combing his hair out with your fingers, making it lay flat once more. "That sounds nice..." he muttered, the sensation of you playing with his hair almost making him fall asleep on the spot. "Yeah, I don't think you drinking that many energy drinks is healthy. Or not sleeping for four days. Let me get dressed, fix my hair, and we can head out, yeah?" You scolded at first, softening your tone.

"You look like shit," he insulted as you two walked to a coffee shop. "You're one to talk. When was the last time you washed your hair? Who are you, Snape?" You joked back, knowing his hatred for the character. 'He treated a kid like absolute shit because the kid's dad used to bully him in school. Oh, and his obsession with a girl who just saw him as a friend, but we're not going to talk about it.' He always said that when you asked him about why he hated Snape. It was funny to you because you had never met someone besides yourself that had that much genuine hatred towards a fictional character. "Ew, compare to anyone but him. Anyone," he said, genuinely grossed out by the fact you'd compared him to that character. "You really should take care of yourself more though. I need you to last me my whole life dude," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Mhm, if I remember correctly, promise 40 was if we were still 28 and we were single, we'd marry each other," he chuckled. You laughed. "Well, yeah. We keep our promises, you got that?" You said, punching his shoulder. "Ow, what was that for!" He whined, laughing. "I don't know. I don't want to go back to that apartment. I need to stay out of that, school is just... taking a toll on me. When we finish school and get jobs, I hope it's easier... Let's go on an adventure today," you said, leaning onto him. He thought for a bit. His project was almost done, and it was due in three days. He was running on no sleep, 5 energy drinks a day, and the occasional coffee you brought him.. Taking time off for you was worth it. He could finish the project tomorrow. You were worth that and more to him. "Sure what kind of adventure?"

"A little birdie told me you'd be up here," you said once you had opened the door to the roof. He turned around, facing you. "Really? Let me guess, Chishiya?" He stated. . He had his gun slung over his shoulder, and looked around boredly. You nodded. "How was your game?" You asked, going over, and sitting on the edge of the roof. He went over, sitting by you. "It went great. I'm alive, aren't I?" He stated sarcastically. You sighed, seeing as you were right. You had sensed it last night, but now it was more obvious. The games had changed him. For better or worse, you didn't know yet. "Mmm... and are the games any way to treat me differently? Because I'll hit you right now if you say yes," you threatened, glaring at him. He noticed your anger, but he guessed it could also be sadness. He'd left you alone for... how long had you said? 6 months? He didn't remember being gone for that long. Maybe time ran differently in the Borderlands than it did in the real world?

"No, it's not. Just know that I'm not going to act the same around you. I have a reputation here," he said, staring out. A light breeze brushed across the roof. A reputation? Well, you had noticed not many people coming up to talk to you all day. You heard whispers of 'that's the girl Niragi brought in. We should stay away from her.' So you assumed people feared Niragi. But you were curious. You know what they say, Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. "Tell me about it then. Tell me everything that's happened. All the good, all the bad, I want to know. So spill," you said. He sighed. He didn't want to tell you. A part of him was confused about it. He wasn't proud of the things he did, but on the other hand, he wasn't ashamed of them. The only thing stopping him was the fact that you were the only person who's opinion he cared about. The only person he had his whole life who cared about him the way he cared about them. You were the only reason he wasn't completely alone. "You want to know? Why?" He asked, putting up a defensive front. You shook your head, noticing it almost immediately. He had built walls in the games, you could tell. But that wasn't going to stop you. "Because you're my best friend,and I thought you had died. Because I want to know what you've been doing here? How'd you get such a high rank? When did you learn how to shoot? What's your specialty of the card games? Is it fun? Have you killed anyone?" You asked, going off on a small tangent. "Ok... let's do this. I've been playing the games, I got a high rank by playing the games, learned how to shoot here in the borderlands, surprisingly enough it's almost like shooting in a video game, my specialty are diamond games, yes it's extreme fun, and yes I have," he answered. You nodded, leaning your head on his shoulder. You had a suspicion there was worse he'd done, but you didn't want to know. He could keep it to himself until he felt comfortable to tell you. It felt like before, in a way... When you two would sit on the roof of some apartment complex down the street and watch the stars. Where your worries would go away, and you didn't have to worry about being the perfect daughter or the bullies. You were just (Y/N) and Niragi, the two kids. Because that's what you had been. Kids. When everything happened, you were kids. No kids should have been treated like how you two had been treated.

''I can't believe they broke your glasses," you muttered under your breath, brushing his hair out of his face. His bullies had gotten him while you were cleaning the classroom after class. He waited outside, but they decided to rough him up. The had beaten him up pretty badly. You had cleaned up the cuts and blood as much as you could, but it didn't change the fact his glasses were broken."It's fine..." he said, not wanting to look you in the eyes. "It's not fine, Sugu. You need your glasses, and glasses are expensive. Plus your dad..." you trailed off, seeing his hands beginning to shake. "Don't remind me..." he whispered. You hugged him, and whispered back, "You'll be ok. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, (N/N)."

"But I have to. Promise 1, we promise to keep each other safe, remember?"

He sighed, and nodded. You were scared for him. You knew somehow, you'd get roped into it. You looked up at him, seeing him pick at the cement on the roof. "Eventually... we're going to have to go back. We can't stay here the whole night," he said. You frowned. "I don't want to go back. We should run away. Just the two off us."

"(L/N)?" Someone called out from behind you two. You turned to face the person. It was Ann. "Hatter would like to see you... Alone."

[s-creations]

Return the Flames - Chapter 3

All at Dead Bird Studios knew of Amos' (The  Conductor's) ability. How the owl could suddenly erupt into flames if  angered enough. When the studio first opened, Dominic (DJ Grooves) was  told that Amos had his ability under control. Nothing to worry about. No  possible loss of anything from an open flame.

A few years later however, and that control seems to have lessened to a dangerous degree.

It should have just been a simple, week long drive to fix the problem. It really should have been.

Dominic should have asked a lot more questions and should have been prepared for a twist ending.

_________________

Fandom: A Hat in Time  Rating: General Audience  Relationships/Pairings: The ConductorXDJ Grooves  Warnings: Eventual depictions of violence, slow burn relationship, named characters, attempt of an accent, being hunted down, a race against time (sort of).

“Release, burn, return…”

“Release, burn, return…”

He could hear it, that infernal chanting that was starting to wear on his nerves. It wasn’t as loud as before. It was still there through. Just hanging over his head as he attempted to keep the fire at bay. 

“Release, burn, return…”

He shifted, shocked when he realized he was enveloped in a cool embrace. When opening his eyes, he was expecting to see himself being cradled by the darkened sky. That was not what he got. The inky black sky filled with stars was above him. Again, out of his reach. But he was no longer floating aimlessly.

Instead, he was resting in a crater. The ground below him powdery and white, dust rising as he shifted and sat up. 

“Release, burn, return…”

“Remain… Please remain… You need to remain…”

“Release, burn, return…”

“Remain… Please remain…”

Amos shifted weakly in the ice and freezing water filled tub, slowly sitting up as he rubbed sleep from his face. Mind still hazy from waking, Amos swirled some of the ice around before reaching up. Placing a hand on his chest. The fire was still low, bearable. Something he truly hadn’t felt in so long. But why was he in a bathtub? And where did all this ice come from? 

“What…”

“How are you feeling?”

The owl jumped at the sudden voice. Dominic was by the large sink, in the processes of pulling his hair back into a bun. Wearing a simple tank top and boxer combo as his sleepwear. Toiletries were laying out on the sink’s surface with water running from the tap. Oh, right, the trip. One that Dominic had insisted on coming with. He was also the one who, apparently, kept dumping ice on the owl even after Amos passed out.

“‘M fine…” Amos answered weakly, rubbing sleep away from his face. “What time is it?”

“7.”

The owl sat up a bit straighter at that. “How’s it 7? I thought we arrived here later than that?”

“...It’s 7 in the morning Amos. You practically passed out once you were in there.”

“Oh. That’s a bit more reasonable. I suppose.”

“I’ve never seen you sleep this much.”

“Ya been spyin’ on me?”

Dominic rolled his eyes at Amos’ smirk, the owl draped over the side of the tub. “I don’t have to knowing you workaholic nature. I’m more wondering and worrying if your condition requires you to sleep more to combat it.”

“Nah, I’ve just had difficulty sleepin’  lately.” The owl stood, the water and ice sloshing around. He was a bit upset that he had to leave his cold sanctuary. “How much ice did ya brin’ back?”

“A few buckets worth. By the way, if anyone asks, you eat ice like chips.”

“...Why?”

“It was the story I told when confronted on why I kept getting ice.” Dominic frowned as the owl roared with laughter. “I’m glad someone finds amusement in this.”

“I thought ya could come up with creative stories.”

“Not in five seconds! What would you have said?”

“Needed ice for your cooler.”

“You mean the one that we don’t have.”

“Did they eye over our luggage when we shuffled past their room?”

“I don’t know, but I wasn’t going to risk it.”

Letting out a snort, Amos left the tub. A disgruntled noise left him as he noticed the water rushing off of him. “Don’t suppose this place has a dryer.”

“In fact, they do. But we can dry them as we drive, don’t fret. I have a new outfit laying out on the bed for you.”

“Ya went through-”

“Oh hush Darling. I just took out what was needed, I didn’t look at anything else.”

Amos huffed, his footsteps slapping wetly against the ground as he stormed out of the bathroom. He was shocked with how large the room was. Properly conscious to pay attention to the setting around him. Two queen size beds pressed against the wall with a large, flat screen tv resting on the opposite. A large dresser was below that, which appeared untouched as their suitcases were resting by it, both open. A small sitting area, with a large sitting chair and a large table was positioned near the wide window. Which showed a balcony and the growing prairie outside the hotel grounds. 

At the foot of the closest bed was a few articles of Amos’ clothing, just as the penguin said. 

“At least he picked out something comfortable.” The owl muttered. 

While the ice and water combo had kept him cool and he was grateful for that, he really hated wet clothing. It stuck to his feathers and pulled at them uncomfortably. He preened a bit, only to put the awkward feathers back into place before dressing again. Unsure of how long Dominic would need to take in order to be ready, Amos moved himself and his wet clothing to the balcony. 

He laid the drenched garments out on the railing before turning towards the view. Truth be told, there wasn’t much to look at. This was definitely a hotel that was meant as a way to get away from everything. There was a small town that could barely be seen on the horizon. After that was the large portion of prairie land that was filled with wild grass and flowers. The view below was one of a large parking lot with an ornate courtyard directly set before the hotel entrance. It seemed like such a waste of money to only stay here for one night. But, if Peck Neck Grooves wanted to burn his money, then so be it. 

Amos placed a hand on his chest, the fire within calm. A pleasant warmth instead of the inferno it had been for so many days. As if to confirm for him that he was still in control, Amos created a small flame from within his palm. It wasn’t much. But it was something.

“I’m going to assume you’re feeling better.” Dominic joined the owl on the balcony, hair still pulled back, but was now properly dressed. 

“Aye… ‘M not goin’ ta lie. It’s probably the best I’ve felt in awhile.”

“Really?”

“I don’t have a self making ice machine. Nor someone to keep dumpin’ said ice over me when I pass out.”

The penguin frowned at that. “Have you been experiencing this every night?”

“Not every night...about once every two weeks. It all sort o’ builds up.”

“How...long has this been happening?”

“A few years.”

“Years! Amos-”

“I don’t need a lecture. I have a solution, that’s where we’re goin’, so hush.”

“Amos, I want to help.”

“And ya are.” 

“I’m not just speaking about physically taking you somewhere. I mean mentally. Emotionally. Something. This can’t be healthy to not talk about this.”

Amos snuffed the flame before walking back into the room. “Are ya ready to go.”

“...I suppose I am. Do you want to eat here?”

“And spend 20 pons for a piece o’ toast? Let’s get ta the town and see what they have.”

Dominic didn’t argue. Merely collecting the drenched garments and following Amos as they finished packing up the rest of their belongings. They checked out, climbed back into the car, and headed towards the nearby town. 

It was an old fashioned town with a few modern touches. The houses were old with some paint chipping from the siding but well maintained, with large porches with swing seats and at least two potted plants. Further in revealed a mix of older stores and those with modern touches. Nothing fancy or flashy, giving it enough of a home town feeling. A small dinner was spotted further down the road, Dominic claiming a parking spot on the street as the dinner’s lot seemed rather packed. 

It was packed on the inside as well. The floor being a black and white checkered pattern with all seating having red leather upholstery. It was loud, with chattering and children screaming, the servers rushing around with food in hand. They were led over to a booth, promptly taking the seats across from each other, ordering and falling quiet. Dominic peered out the large window in hopes of avoiding the awkward silence that settled over them once again. But nothing of interest kept his attention and he was pulled back to the table and, more importantly, Amos.

“Do we need to worry about another episode tonight?” The penguin asked. 

“I hope not. But we may want to stock up on ice...just in case.”

“Fair.”

They fell quiet again. Dominic hit once more with how little he knew of the owl. What could he possibly bring up that would interest Amos? It was a thankful blessing when the food arrived. Giving something for each to focus on besides the silence. Unfortunately, the awkward peace was quickly ended with the sound of a shutter, followed by a bright light that startled them both. 

Amos let out a growl as a bluejay with a camera around their neck approached the booth. Pulling out a pad of paper and pencil as they stopped before them.

“Calm down Amos.” Dominic cautiously whispered before turning to the report. “Isn’t it a bit rude to impede on other’s privacy.”

“Sorry to bother. But it’s not everyday two big shot directors bless a small town like this with their presence. Especially not together! Are we having a bit of a special outing? A romantic get away perhaps?” 

The dinner fell quiet when Amos suddenly stood, slamming his hands down onto the table. “Ya unruly peck neck! Sniffin’ around for business that ya have no need ta stick your nose in. Have ya nothin’ better ta do with ya miserable peckin’ life!”

And Amos left it at that. Storming out of the restaurant with an uneasy silence following. Dominic took in the stunned audience, mother’s desperately pressing their hands over children’s ears, the elderly watching on with looks of utter disgust, as he placed pons down to pay for their meal. “You may want to take his words to heart darling.”

With that, he departed as well and started to search for Amos. The owl being located behind the building. Frantically pacing as smoke slowly rose from him. Dominic was instantly on the defense as he approached the other. Not sure if Amos was close to combusting or if something else was going to consume his rath. 

“Amos-”

“Peck neck! Absolute peckin’ peck neck!”

“You do realize there are children who can hear you.”

“Maybe they’ll learn somethin’ important.”

“Amos, you need to calm down. We knew this might have been a possible issue.”

“I know! I know that! But I’m already on a short temper and in pain, I have enough ta worry about without them snoopin’ around! Then ta even suggest that we… That we’re together… Peckin’ reporter’s gonna write some stupid story about us bein’ together!” 

“You don’t know that. And, even if they did, you know it’ll just be tabloid garbage.” 

“Stop deafening’ them!”

A sudden eruption of flames caused both to stumble away from the dinner. A fire quickly formed from the A.C. unit and started to claim the building. Dominic could tell there was no way to contain it with how quickly it was spreading. 

It was absolutely terrifying. 

This was not normal fire. Not the regular flames that Amos could create. It was all red. All varying shades of red that consumed the concrete building. The heat he felt from it made Dominic think he was starting to melt as well. He heard screams and panicked yells coming from the front of the building. The customers and workers could no doubt feel the growing heat and were leaving as fast as they could. The sound of the familiar sirens drawing closer to the roaring fire, which had fully claimed the building, broke Dominic out of his fearful state. 

“Amos.” Dominic looked over to the owl. Who was staring in disbelief at the roaring fire. “Amos, we need to leave.” 

He still didn’t respond. Dominic rushed over and grabbed Amos’ arms, pulling him away from the bonfire. They rushed past the crowd (Dominic prayed all were able to get out), passed the fire trucks that were racing by them, (did they seem suspicious running away?), and climbed back into the car. Amos was still unresponsive as Dominic started up the car and peeled out of their spot. 

As they pulled away, Amos finally moved, turning back to watch the fire as it slowly shrank. Dominic’s heart was pounding in his ears as he drove, eyes locked on the road. 

But he could have sworn he heard Amos whisper fearfully. 

“I didn’t mean to…”

[lokiandbuckyaremine]

All The Broken Pieces

Prompt: “Can you do a fic where the reader practically holds the team together and she does little things that no one notices and she kinda is exhausted and falls a bit apart in the end. It's not necessarily that you do it, but if you have time and if you do it can you tag me? :)) Thank you so much, I love your writing” ~ Requested by @just-some-imagines

Pairing: Reader x Bucky, Reader x Avengers

Warnings: Some “fighting”, language, Bucky being adorable as usual

Note: Hey everyone! Sorry I have not been on here in A LONG TIME! Hope everyone is safe in these crazy times, but just know I miss and love you all.

The knife felt heavy in your knuckles, as you stared at the dead agent in front of you. The lifeless man on the ground was a product of rage, hatred, and exhaustion. This has been your 4th mission in the past week, and you could feel the exhaustion envelope you. “Fall back, y/n”, you heard in your earpiece. Toning the voice out, you continuously stared at the man who laid dead on the ground. Glancing up, you noticed 15 others just like him.....lifeless.

Dropping the knife, you fought back a tear, and jogged away from your crime scene. “Y/N? Do you copy?” Snapping back to reality, you answered lowly, “I copy, Sam. I’m headed to the jet.” As you almost hit the jet, another presence joined you. “What happened back there, Doll?” It was Bucky. The one person who seemed to understand your internal battles. The one who called you “doll”, as if it were natural to him. “Nothing,” you muttered. He grabbed your arm and looked at you sternly. Ripping your arm away, you stared him down. “I said nothing, Barnes. Let it go”. You stomped up the ramp to the jet, and huffed down in your seat. You were no longer fighting back the tears, as they fell off of your face. And that was when you made one of the toughest decisions of your life....

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“Hey, Wilson! Breakfast!”, you shouted flipping another egg in the pan. Heavy footsteps were heard in the distance, as some of the team started filing in and sitting down. “Oh yes! It’s omelet day! Someone pass the hash browns”. A very thrilled Steve kissed your cheek and smacked his hands in excitement. There was no romance between the two of you, but when it came to having a best friend that you could trust no matter what, it was Steve Rogers. 

Grabbing a plate, you ran into a hard surface and quickly realized who it was. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to run into you.” Your eyes met a very tired, yet gorgeous pair of clear blue eyes. You half smiled, “It’s ok, Buck. Just glad you said something.” You and Bucky haven’t spoken in months, ever since you announced your resignation from The Avengers. You had your reasons, but nonetheless they were your family and you weren’t going to leave them. 

Someone spitting brought your attention away from the hunky man in front of you. “Ugh, these do not taste like the home fries my mom used to make.” Frowning, you grabbed a fork and pointed it at Tony. “You know one of these days, Stark, you’re going to thank me for making you breakfast. In fact, one of these days you ALL are going to thank me.” Loud murmurs spread across the table and Steve finally cleared his throat. “Y/N, I think I speak for all of us that we really do appreciate your cooking.” Wanda giggled. “Uh, no offense. But Banner can make better pancakes than her.” More criticisms flowed out of the mouths of your friends, and this started to bother you. Clanging your glass, and holding back frustration. “Well fine. If you all obviously don’t appreciate me getting up early to put food in your stomach, then you can all make your own goddam breakfast.”

Storming off, you heard the team continuously argue over one another. You felt as though no matter how hard you tried to make everyone happy and keep everyone together, it backfired. The amounts of times you helped Tony and Steve through fights, or the amount of times you pumped up Wanda for feeling like she had nothing to offer to the team, or the countless times you helped Bruce in the lab....you received nothing in return. Sure you’d never expect anything, but you were starting to feel burnt out. 

The next morning rolled around, and you were up early once again. Today was training day for the boys, and by boys you meant Bucky, Steve, and Sam. Every Friday was training day, which means that the gym would be occupied for hours. You got into the routine of setting up each corner based on what each guy would be working on. For Sam, he was working on target practice as well as being quicker with reaction time. For Bucky, he was the weight and treadmill master. And then there was Steve that stuck with his classic punching bag. As you were finishing setting Sam’s target machine, you heard the chuckles and footsteps heading your way. 

Turning around, you were greeted by three grinning men. “Well if it isn’t my favorite girl scouts,” you teased. Steve ran over and picked you up, swinging you around. “Girl scouts, huh? Can a girl scout lift you, Speedy?” You were in a laughing mess, as he put you down and started to gently spar with you. He was your buddy, and you could always count on him to make you smile. But you couldn’t help but notice a lonely Bucky in the corner, watching the two of you sadly. “I’ll be right back, Rogers. You better be saving that energy for Peggy”, you winked.

Giggling, you walked over to Bucky and placed a hand on his shoulder. It tensed and you put your hands up in surrender. “Hey, it’s ok. Just me.” His build soften, and he continued to set up his weights. “What do you want, y/n?” You scoffed and helped set up squat bar. “What? I don’t get called ‘doll’ anymore, all of a sudden?” You glared at him and continued to raise the height of the bar. He stopped you and grabbed your hand. “Would you stop?! I got it. Why do you always feel to help out around here? We can handle ourselves, Y/N!!!” 

In total shock and tears, you slammed the bar down and stormed out of the gym. Where did this come from? You and Bucky ALWAYS had a spark, but lately you’ve felt so disconnected. Too many thoughts were stirring through your head, and you found yourself sobbing on the balcony of your room. Screaming out into the world, you cried harder and slumped down into the lifeless hammock behind you. Why would he do this? Why couldn’t anyone appreciate your help or love? Why, why, why....

The turn of a doorknob diverted your attention to the sweaty, yet handsome man standing in the doorway. His face was just as hurt and shocked as yours. Without hesitation, you turned your body to him. “Why? That’s all I wanna know, Buck.” Furrowing his eyebrows, he motioned towards the hammock and you scooched over so he could sit. He sighed and leaned back. “Ever since that night, in Bucharest, when you wouldn’t speak to me, or the team, I knew what you were going to do. I could tell by your eyes that you couldn’t handle it anymore.” He looked at you, and back out into the sky. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked with the glow of the rising sun on his stubbled face. “But that night, I also knew that I was losing my partner. My best friend. My soulmate, really.”

Your eyebrows rose, and your stare met his. “I know that you’re still living here and constantly are doing anything you can to make us happy, but that’s not you, Doll.” You smiled softly at the name he called you. He reached over and brushed away a lone tear that was on your cheek. “You don’t need to make us breakfast or be the problem-solver for us to appreciate you. Believe me, all those years of fighting for us, saving us, saving ME....that is the REAL y/n that I know and fell for. You hold us together, and seeing you stressing out to forcefully make us happy is something not worth losing you over”.

THIS was the Bucky you loved and missed. Hearing him speak, you couldn’t help but flashback to the late nights of the two of you cuddling on the balcony, sharing deep conversations and letting the pain of the missions go away. You smiled up at him reassuringly. “I just want to do good, Buck. I want to BE the right person for everyone. It’s just how I’ve always been. But the constant killing and traveling place to place was eating away at me. Especially since my past destroyed me in the first place. If I’m not perfect, or pleasing anybody, how can anyone ever love me?”

Bucky nudged you with his arm, and then wrapped you tightly with his arm. “Hey! Don’t talk like that. Your smile, your laugh, your warm heart, the way you do things so carefree, the way you are always there when someone needs to talk...that’s worth falling in love with. Not to mention your gorgeous eyes, beautiful hair, smile, and body....you might’ve not gotten the whole team to fall in love with you, but you sure captured my heart. And I will do ANYTHING, to protect you and make sure you’re always appreciated.”

With tears in your eyes, you couldn’t believe that the man you have been in love with for the past 5 years was finally admitting his love. “Well, it’s about damn time you finally told me, Barnes.” With a soft giggle from both of you, Bucky leaned in to seal the special moment with a passionate kiss. Your lips molded together as your tongues danced, and passion enveloped you both. Cupping his face, you pressed a soft kiss to his nose. “Thank you, Bucky. I always thought I could fix all of my broken pieces, but I’ve learned that I don’t have to fight it alone. All I ever wanted was you to be mine, and to have someone who could accept me.” With his signature smirk, Bucky kissed you back. “And you are damn right I’m all yours and you are perfect in my eyes.” 

Capturing another kiss, Bucky pulled apart abruptly. “Oh! And I really want to apologize for being extremely rude to you. I have a terrible way of controlling my frustration. How can I make it up to you?” Smirking, you ran your hand across his chest. “Well you can repay me later tonight, but for now....you owe me some pancakes.” Bucky roared in laughter. “Sorry Doll, no can do. My pancakes are not as good as yours. Dry and chalky, that is.” Laughing, Bucky quickly ran back into your room before you could hound him for his teasing. “You’re gonna pay for that, Barnes!!!!”, you yelled chasing after him.

If perfect meant constant teasing and falling in love over and over with the man of your dreams....you’d take that over pancakes any day. ;)

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A/N: It’s good to be back! Hope you all enjoyed this quick lil story. PLEASE LIKE, REBLOG, and SHARE COMMENTS! Always welcome! As well as requests!!!!

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[hrina]

And They Were Roommates

A semi-crack fic featuring bi!Reader x female!OC and awkward Harry

Written for #majorharry20k

Disclaimer: I have no idea how washing machines work. I don’t know if this is even plausible. Just go with it. Also, im very bisexual, so I’m not fetishizing it or anything. Just thought I should mention that too. I intended this to be about 1k and it ended up being 

 Prompts:

1 – “that’s by far the dumbest thing you’ve ever done”

3- “our water bill is going to be through the roof after this”

23 – “Great. I’m soaked.”

To Cass: Hi. You don’t know me, and I prefer to stay anonymous (I’m not the butterfly anon I promise). I’ve been following your blog for a while, since you were a 5sos blog, and I love your writing. I do write, but until now I haven’t written for Harry. Your prompts inspired me. I’m so happy you reached 20k, you deserve it. Hope you enjoy <3  

“It’s broken.”

“Wha’d’ya mean it’s broken?”

“I mean broken. Doesn’t work. No longer functions. How many definitions do you want.”

Harry shakes his head in disbelief. “How on Earth do you break a washing machine?”

In his disbelief, he misses your and Val’s faces turning red.

“I guess- maybe- we put too many clothes in?” Val stammers.  “The landlord will fix it though right? Isn’t it in our lease agreement?” 

Harry shakes his head again. “I’m pretty sure we’re responsible for our own broken appliances.”

“That’s a shit deal,” you jump in for the first time. Harry’s eyes land on you. A couple beats pass, enough for it to become almost awkward. His gaze is intense up until the moment he breaks the silence.

“Yeah, well, we weren’t exactly master negotiators when we moved in. The rent was so low we figured it was worth it.” You’ve heard the story of how Val and Harry became roommates many times from her. How they had been put together for a group project at school, but neither had wanted to meet at their own place, so they ended up always meeting at a coffee shop. How they had become fast friends, meeting up for coffee after the project was over, and opening up to one another about how campus housing had screwed them over. Harry had complained about living with boys, how they were messy, never cleaned up after themselves, ate all his food, and most importantly (and disgustingly) left used condoms everywhere. He had basically been the house cook and maid for the majority of the year. 

Val’s roommates, well, they weren’t outwardly homophobic, but it was little jabs at her that added up over time. Cliché comments like ‘you don’t want to date me, do you?’ and things like being okay with being undressed around each other, but getting weird around Val. By midterm first semester, she had been sleeping in your room more times than not. You would have let her move in, but understandably, your roommates weren’t too happy about another body in your already-too-tight room. So, after the first year of housing was over, Val and Harry had pooled funds and with a bit of luck, mixed with the fact that Harry’s stepdad knew a guy, they managed to find a cute little apartment not too far from the school. An apartment that they lived in to this day, three years later. 

Although you were over there quite a lot (who wouldn’t prefer an apartment over campus housing?), you and Harry had never really become close. Sure, you two would be in proximity during group outings, but you spent most of your time there in Val’s room, and whenever you were in the kitchen or living room, Harry seemed to be busy in his room. You originally thought he didn’t like you, but when you asked Val about it, she assured you that he liked you just fine, though she acknowledged that he was a bit weird around you sometimes. It only got worse after the time he had accidentally walked in on you and Val.

You and Val had a very close relationship – but you had both agreed you were better off as friends. But friendships can have benefits, can’t they? Besides, the times you hooked up were scarce – only when you were both in between partners, which, admittedly, wasn’t very often for you. The time Harry had caught you was right after you had broken up with your boyfriend after finding out that he had been seeing another girl. You had been angry and frustrated, and in need of some sort of release. Val, who rarely dated, was willing to help out. 

You don’t think Harry had seen much, but you had only realized that he had seen something when you heard the bedroom door slam. After that, he had had a hard time meeting your eyes. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why though, he certainly wasn’t a blushing virgin himself. You had been there to see off quite a few of his one-night stands trying to sneak out in the morning. 

To be fair, you were also usually there for the same reason, just a different roommate. The difference was instead of sneaking out in the morning, you’d stay for the day. And usually the following night. And sometimes even the night after that. Val had told you that given the amount of times she slept at yours during the first year, you were entitled to stay over whenever you wanted, and Harry didn’t seem to mind. There’d been quite a few times when you’d arrive at their apartment late at night, drunk out of your mind, to borrow some of Val’s clothes while you slept on their couch. The washing machine came in handy, as you could normally throw your clothes from the night before in with one of their loads. That was actually how you and Val discoveredotheruses for the washing machine. 

It really had been a complete accident. You and Val had gone to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer, but there was still two minutes left on the machine. Instead of leaving and coming back, you and Val elected to just wait it out (because if you left there was no question that you’d forget for the next couple of hours). You sat down in the only chair in the room, so Val decided it was a good idea to hop onto the washing machine itself. Turns out it was a good idea. The second her ass landed, the machine started rattling worse than before and her face contorted into pleasure. You jumped up, for a second thinking she might be in pain, before she used an arm to push you away, signaling that she was okay. 

“What’s going on?” The confusion was clear in your voice. In lieu of an answer, Val just looked up at you, her eyes dark. One of her hands came down to rest between her thighs, supporting her body weight as the machine continued to buck. Realization dawned on you as she let out a groan not dissimilar to one she had let out with you a couple hours earlier. Her hand that wasn’t supporting her came around the back of your head, dragging your lips to hers. 

That day had started something for you two. After it, you and Val spent a lot of time in the laundry room. It had become almost a routine, every time a new load went in, you and Val would stay in the room for at least 15 minutes longer than you needed to. If Harry noticed, he didn’t say anything.

In the next couple of months, the routine became more of a tradition. Clothes in the house were cleaner than ever. Loads gradually progress from just lights and darks to six different categories: light delicates, dark delicates, light regulars, dark regulars, denim, and sheets. The more loads, the more time you guys had. Normally you took turns, with one of you lending the other a hand (no pun intended), but this time, Val had gotten so worked up, that she jumped up with you. Apparently, the weight of two girls plus the stress of constantly running had been too much for the old machine. It sputtered, and then shut off. You had glanced over your shoulder, hoping that maybe the cycle had just ended, though you knew it was too early. Your stomach sank as you saw the knobs frozen halfway through the cycle. You and Val stared at each other with wide eyes. And that’s how you came to be where you are right now, trying to find a reasonable explanation for Harry as to why his washing machine is broken.

Which, by the way, is much easier said than done. As his green eyes bore into you, your mind scrambles to think up an explanation, but you’re drawing blanks. You look over at Val for help, but she looks just as lost as you are. She does a better job of putting on a confident mask though. 

“D’you think you can fix it?” She asks Harry. You see it for what it is – an attempt at deflection. 

Harry snorts. “Sure, let me just use my many years of mechanical experience to – oh wait.” 

“Ok wise guy, at least you used to be a baker?”

Harry stares at her. “What does that have anything to do with a washing machine?”

“Because ovens …?”

Harry continues to stare at her. 

“Could you at least take a look at it?” You jump in. His gaze turns to you. For a moment, you worry you’ve offended him, before he bows his head in a slight nod and steps to stand in front of the machine. 

“Ok, well, first off, how much of your laundry do you have left?” 

You think. “Well, I think we were only halfway through the third cycle, so-“  “Woah woah woah wait hold on.” Harry stops you. “Only? Third?How many cycles were you planning on doing?”

“Uh,” You count in your head. “Six?” You look over at Val for confirmation, and she nods. 

“Six?!” You suppose you understand Harry’s incredulity. In hindsight, six might be a bit excessive.  “Why on earth would you need to do six cycles?” This time, he directs it at Val. 

She flounders to come up with an excuse. “Uh, well, gotta sort colors, you know…” She trails off

“Yeah but six loads? What, do you guys get off on doing laundry or something?” He says it sarcastically, but both your and Val’s faces instantaneously turn red. 

“No.” He whispers. Neither of you answer. You start studying the pattern of tiles on the floor. “What, is this like a- a laundry kink? Is that even a thing?” Val’s head snaps up. “No, dumbass. Laundry kink is not a thing.”

“Well sorryfor assuming having sex in a laundry room means- “

“Oh for God’s sake we weren’t even having sex!”

“Ok well getting each other off – “

“We weren’t getting each other off!” That seems to stop Harry short. He gives Val a questioning look, encouraging her to go on. 

“We- the washing machine- it,” she stumbles over her words. “Y’know it- vibrates?”

“No.” Harry drags his hands down over his face. “There’s no way you two have been using our washing machine as a vibrator.” 

You look up, guilty expression all over your face. 

“That’s gross. This is by far the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, and Val, that’s saying a lot for you. Guys, I do my laundry here, I want my clothes to be clean- “

Val tries to defend you two. “We clean up! Also, I thought most straight guys loved the idea of two girls- “

“I’m not most straight guys. Also forgive me if I’m not too keen on the idea of my roommate and her girlfriend in the laundry room – “

“Wait girlfriend?”

“Yes?” “Do- do you think we’re dating?”

“Well, aren’t you?” “Harry no.” The corners of Val’s mouth tug up in a smile, as the tide of embarrassment starts turning in her favor.

“Guys? Maybe focus on one problem at a time? We kind of have a bigger issue.” You step in, gesturing at the washing machine. 

Harry turns to you. “So you’re single? I mean-” He looks back and forth between you and Val. “You both are?” “Yes? But like (Y/N) said, bigger problems.” Val pats the washing machine. “Weren’t you about to take a look?”

Harry takes a couple more seconds to respond. His gaze holds yours once again, before he shakes his head as if to clear off cobwebs and starts examining the washing machine. 

You look over to Val to see her staring back at you. You widen your eyes comically and lift your eyebrows. She shakes her head in a silent laugh. You have a feeling in years to come, you might be able to look back on this and laugh, but for now, the mortification is still strong. 

“Okay,” Your attention snaps back to where Harry’s crouched down at the side of the machine. “I think it might be a problem with the water. It might be blocked or something.” As he talks, his hand comes to rest on a metal tube feeding into the back of the machine that you assume the water runs though. “So if we call a repairman tonight, they should be able to be here by-” And then, the tube slips. You don’t know if it’s due to the pressure of Harry’s hand, or if it was going to happen anyway and he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but whatever the reason, it slips. And a jet of water starts to spray out of where it was. Soaking everything around it. Including Harry. He splutters and stumbles back, but it’s too late. His hair is plastered to his forehead, and his white shirt has become see through. He looks down, assessing the damage, and then stares back at you two helplessly. 

“Great. I’m soaked.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” Val tries to stifle her laughter, but doesn’t do a very good job at it. After a few beats, you can’t help but to join in. After everything that’s happened, the emotional rollercoaster you’ve been on of stress and mortification, it feels good just to laugh. 

Harry stares at the two of you for a few more seconds in mock annoyance, before he also can’t help but join in. Soon enough, the three of you are in stitches over just how ridiculous the situation actually is. 

As your laughter dies down, the sound of dripping catches all of your attentions. Your eyes fall to the place that had previously been spraying out water. It had died down so it wasn’t spraying, but there was still a steady, albeit thin stream of water coming out. 

“Our water bill is going to be through the roof after this.” Harry doesn’t sound mad, more like he’s just making commentary, but you feel guilty anyways.

“I’m so sorry guys. I’ll foot half the bill. And I can pay for the repairman-”

 Val cuts you off. “Don’t be stupid. This is just as much my fault as it is yours. More so, even.”

“No but still, I should pay for-”

“(Y/N).” It’s Harry that cuts you off this time. “Seriously. Don’t worry about it. This is our apartment, our bills.” His voice holds a warm tone you’ve never heard from him, and it’s enough to make you pause for a moment. 

“Please guys, let me pay for at least half the water bill and half the repairman. It’s only fair.”

“There’s two of us and one of you. How is that fair?” You throw up your arms in exasperation. You already knew how stubborn Val could be, you just didn’t realize how much Harry shared that trait. “Okay, fine. One third the water bill, one third the repairman. Please guys. I’m literally begging you.”

They glance at each other seeking silent confirmation and share a knowing smirk. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say they were teasing you.

“Okay, fine.” Val relents. “One third the water bill, one third the repairman.”

You heave a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Val smiles at you. “Ok, I’m going to go find the repairman’s number. There’s one on the fridge, right Harry?” Harry nods in affirmation, and Val heads out the door, pulling out her phone in the process. 

Then it’s just you and Harry. His wet shirt clings to his body, showing off his sculpted figure. You had always noticed he was objectively good looking, but now, with his body practically on display in front of you, you had a newfound appreciation for his looks. 

“If I knew you were that keen on paying, I would have started coming out with you guys a long time ago.” “Hm?” Harry’s voice snaps you out of the trance you didn’t know you were in. He raises his eyebrows at you. Shit. He definitely caught you staring. 

You quickly try to divert the subject. “So the only reason you weren’t coming out with us was because you’re a cheapskate? And here I was thinking you just didn’t like me.” You try to joke, but it falls flat as his expression turns serious. 

“You thought I- Oh God. I’m an idiot.” He shakes his head.

“Well what else was I supposed to think, what with you avoiding me and all.” You try to keep your tone light, but even you can hear the accusatory undertones slipping in. You hadn’t thought you were bitter, but now facing it head on, you realize you might carry a bit of resentment. 

“I never avoided you.” You give him a look. “Okay, maybe I avoided you a little bit. But it wasn’t-” He cuts himself off. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry I gave you that impression. I never meant to make you think I didn’t like you.”

“Well, it’s hard to draw any other conclusions when you get avoided,” you laugh self-deprecatingly. 

“I know. And you’re right. I’m sorry. I never really thought about it that way.” You lift your gaze to hold his steadily. You want an answer, and you intend on getting it. “Then why did you avoid me?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I-” He glances at you, and seems at a loss for words. You look at him expectantly, waiting patiently for him to talk. He sighs again. “Look. You deserve an explanation. But it might take a second, and I’m,” he gestures down at himself. “I need a shower. And a change of clothes. And I need to gather my thoughts. Can we talk after?”

It’s not the answer you expected or wanted, but you nod. The disappointment must show on your face though, because Harry grabs you hand before you can turn away. “(Y/N). I promise after I shower I’m all yours.” His eyes meet yours again, but this time there’s a heat behind them that wasn’t there before. You’re pretty sure this is the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him, and the most amount of physical contact as well. All at once, it’s slightly overwhelming. Your voice seems stuck in your throat, so instead of responding you just nod. He gives you a slight smile, and with that, he’s brushing past you, out into the hallway, and you’re left standing in the laundry room, wondering what the hell just happened.

You still feel a bit dazed 15 minutes later, as you’re sitting on the couch in the living room when you hear the shower shut off. You quickly close the app you were playing around with on your phone as you glance up. Harry emerges in only a towel wrapped around his waist. He’s like a vacuum for your eyes, drawing them towards him so you can’t possible look at anything else. He stands there, neither of you saying anything until – 

“You have three nipples?” 

He blinks, seemingly caught off guard, before his brain catches up with what you said. “Huh? Oh, four actually.” 

“What? No way,” you gasp.

“Uh-huh,” he nods. “See look – one, two, three, four,” He counts, pointing them all out individually. 

“I didn’t even know that was a thing people had.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m unique like that.” He grins at you, and you roll your eyes, even as a smile breaks through on your lips. 

“Are you going to get dressed, or are we having the talk like this?” You ask.

“Oh, right. I’m just gonna-” he points vaguely in the direction of his room and stumbles off. He emerges a minute later, in a tee-shirt and sweatpants. It’s an outfit you’ve seen him in a million times before, but this time, it hits different. 

“Ok, ready to talk?” You ask. 

He fidgets with the hem of his shirt. “Um, actually, there’s something I think I need to talk about with Val first.”

You give him a pointed look. “Harry.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just part of my explanation involves something having to do with her, and it wouldn’t be right of me to tell you without asking her first, and-” You cut him off by holding your hand up. 

“Ok. Fine. Just make it quick, please.” 

He looks relieved. “Yeah, of course. I’m really sorry again.” He turns around as talks, speaking to you over his shoulder, and promptly almost runs into the door frame. He shoots you one last embarrassed look, as he heads out in the direction of Kate’s room. You laugh and shake your head as you pick up your phone to reopen your game.

It’s about half an hour later when Harry comes back into the living room. You glance up at him, unimpressed, and he winces at your expression. “I’m sorry it took so long, I just had to explain some things to her.” “You’ve been apologizing an awful lot lately, Harry.”

“I know. Hopefully I won’t have to after this.” He crosses the room to take as seat next to you on the couch. He tucks one foot under his knee, so he can turn his body to face you. In response, you curl up and face him as well. 

He takes a deep breath. “Okay. There’s a lot I have to say, and quite honestly I’m really nervous about it, so I would really appreciate if you would hear out my whole story before saying anything.” You nod in agreement, and he takes another deep breath before starting.

“I want to start by saying I’m sorry.” “I thought you said you wouldn’t apologize anymore.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t interrupt me.” He fires back. You blush, and gesture for him to continue.

“I am, sorry, is the thing. I handled the situation entirely wrong. Looking back, it’s super obvious that the way I handled it made me seem like an asshole.”

“I didn’t think you were an asshole.” Harry gives you a look. “Right, sorry, shutting up now.” 

A half smile takes over his face, smoothing out his previously serious features. “I did seem like an asshole. It was only because I didn’t want- No wait. Okay. Let me start from the beginning.

“I knew who you were before we met. Val had told me about you. I met Val about a month after you met her, and at that point, she had a crush on you. That’s what I had to go talk to her about just now. She told me her crush faded right after that, and she thought I knew, but I thought that she liked you all this time. I knew you guys had dated other people, but I guess I thought that she was waiting for you or something? And then that one time I walked in on you guys, I just assumed that you had finally gotten together.”

“Harry.” His eyes snap up to yours. “I’m sorry, I know you said no more interruptions, but Harry, I already knew Val liked me. She told me as soon as she got over it. That’s why we started, y’know.”

He stares at you. “What- you mean- oh come on. Val conveniently forgot to mention that bit. I swear to God, that girl just wants to watch the world burn sometimes.” You stifle a giggle. Sounds like something Val would do. She likes to make Harry squirm.

Harry shakes his head. “Okay. Right. Anyways,” He pauses. “Do you remember the first time we met? When the three of us went for coffee?” You nod your head in affirmation. “The first time I saw you, I thought you were the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen.” Your eyes widen in surprise, but you don’t say anything. “You made me shy and nervous, which had never happened before, and hasn’t happened since. And then we had that conversation about music – remember you told me you wanted Stevie Nicks to be your sugar mama?” 

You nod, smiling. “You said you wanted her to be yours too.”

“Right yeah. Basically, I was a goner after that. But I thought Val liked you, and me and Val had just started becoming really good friends, and I really liked her, and I didn’t want to do anything to mess up the friendship. I told myself it was just a crush and I’d get over it soon, but well,” He spread his hands. “I never really did. And then I thought if I distanced myself, it would go away. But that didn’t work either. Also, when I like someone, I’m like, really obvious about it. And I didn’t want Val to know, so again, distancing myself seemed like the obvious choice. And in hindsight, it was a really bad idea, because it makes total sense that you’d interpret it as me not liking you. So. Here we are. I don’t not like you. Pretty much the opposite.”

“Sooo,” Your eyes sparkle. “What I’m hearing is. You have a crush on me.” 

Harry groans and drops his face into his hands. “Oh God, I’m seriously starting to regret it. You’re just as bad as Val.”

“We’re best friends for a reason.” You pause. “What does Val think of all this?”

Harry smirks. “I’d say she seems fine with it. If I remember correctly, she said something along the lines of ‘go get that pussy, you oblivious dickhead.’”

You laugh. “Sounds like something she’d say. I hope this doesn’t mean you’re expecting to get in my pants, Styles.” 

He grins. “Wouldn’t dream of it, (Y/L/N). Not yet at least. Was thinking of taking you on a date first.”

That makes you pause. “A date, huh.”

“Yeah,” he says, looking bashful all of a sudden.

You pretend to think about it. “Would you avoid me the whole time?”

He groans as you burst into laughter. “God. You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Probably not,” You agree. 

“Well fine. If it’s like that, maybe the washing machine will take you on a date instead.”

You gasp. “That’s a low blow, Styles.”

He smirks at you, and you reach over to shove at his shoulder. Before you make contact however, he catches your hand, and uses it to pull you closer to him. He glances down at your lips and then tilts his head, a silent question. You answer by leaning in. But before your lips can touch, the sound of the door slamming breaks you two apart. You look over to see Val in the doorway. 

“Well isn’t this awfully cute. Harry, I never thought you’d go for my sloppy seconds,” she laughs. 

Harry stares at her, then looks at you, then back at her, and then back at you. “Please, pleasehold that thought. I’ll be right back; I just have a roommate to kill.”

“Be my guest. She’s most ticklish at her waist.”

Val’s eyes widen. “No Harry, you know I’m too ticklish – ARGH,” she cuts herself of with a scream as she runs off as Harry launches himself off the couch after her. 

~*~

PLEASE i loved this okay 🥺🥺 bi!reader rights babey!!!!!!!!!! we love 2 see it!!!! i think my fav part was val calling harry an oblivious dickhead nsfjdnsjnsn bc honestly he rly is. i think this was very well done and i just wanna say thank u for following me for so long!!! like damn you’ve been here a while huh……………..i luv u. amazing job babes!

[mindwideopen]

Ok, have they invented this neutralizer yet?! For those of you not familiar with the movie men in Black, this gadget that tommy lee Jones is holding is a machine that when activated, causes you to immediately forget the last experience you had. And I can use this gadget in my life. Matter of fact, I’m in dire need of it. There are a lot of memories in my life, that I need to get rid of. Purge. Release. Let go. How?

So when you think of a memory, you reactivate the feeling you felt when it first occurred. So I pose this question, to myself; how do I forget, memories that hurt, and don’t serve me anymore? A huge conundrum. Because I haven’t been able to figure it out yet. I still get sucked into the same trap I always do: Victimization.

I, am a victim, of my own thoughts. My focus is ass sometimes, depending on my mood, and where I allow my mind to go with said mood. For example, this morning. I woke up, and wrote about how I’ve never felt included or that I belonged. The world of entertainment is exclusive only to certain people, and I am not accepted or one of them. They are on the inside, and they blocked, deleted, dismissed, and shut the door on me. The end. Ok, sure. Here’s the proof; unemployed, no friends to collaborate with, not famous or rich, and people are abondoning me like flies that fly away from shit after they’ve had their fill. Not a good thought tragectory for success. So all I see now, is the evidence of that of which I believe.

“My shit, is better than your shit! I get paid well, to produce my shit. I feel, that YOUR shit, is inferior shit, so I will block you, even though we were contemporaries at one point in our lives. You went your way, I went mine. My shit got noticed. My shit, got accolades and awards. And your shit? Still shit. Oh, and I no longer want to be associated with YOUR shit, cause your shit, again, is shit. So later, never.”

“Oh yeah? Well my shit, isn’t a sell out to the mediocre shit that is shit! And just because you’re recognized and praised publicly for your shit, doesn’t necessarily mean that the shit you produce, is good shit. I happen to believe that your good shit, isn’t. And I’m true to my shit. At least I’m into my own shit. Your shit you sell to someone else that has the same shit going on. And shit n the shit. Shit is as shit does. So there!”

And never the 2 shits shall mix again, in the shit pile, of life. These last 2 paragraphs? Are shit. They are the energy of this: fear. Let’s break it down: indignation, judgement, separatism, more judgement, non inclusion, rash generalization, labeling, even more judgement, hate, and then.... competition, jealously, bitterness, hurt, jadedness, anger, loathing, and yes, fear.

Thank you, agent j...

On the flip side, maybe that wasn’t how we on both ends feel about one another after all, and we just believe it, due to our fears.

Agent J (played by the wonderful, will smith): ok you two, this is how this it’s now going to go down. Person being ridiculous and not in the love # 1, you say this:

“Well, i don’t think your shit is inferior to mine. I never thought that. I was rude about your shit because I felt attacked. I may not understand all your shit, and I’m usually so busy with my head up my ass looking at my own shit...”

Person not in the love being ridiculous #2, you say this:

“We all are.”

Ok, #1 say this:

“Yes, but I appreciate and value you as a person, and our opposition and shit, isn’t an issue for me anymore.”

#2 say this:

“Really? Cause I’ve always admired what you’ve done with your shit. I mean, you’ve gotten a big big platform for your shit, and that’s cool n shit. And I’m glad that we’re discussing this shit, and our collective shit, finally, cause years have gone by, and all this time I’ve been thinking that you hate me and my shit, cause I haven’t seen you in years, and we’re not in each other’s lives anymore.”

Person #1 say this:

“Really?! You don’t hate me for the success I’ve had with my shit?! I blocked you because I read your shit and I basically thought you were sour shit with your shit, kinda being shitty about me and the shit I’m all about.”

Person #2 say this:

“No, if I insulted you with my shit, I definitely didn’t mean it, and I’m glad we’re cool with the shit now.”

Both of your non loving dumb asses:

“Yeah. Shit. All this time wasted thinking shit about one another...”

Agent j. (Continued): Both, understood? Yes! Great! Go forth, in love!

Agent J, has got it down. Did you take notes? No need. All it is, is empathy, understanding, and communication it. In this case, that’s what love looks like.

There are only 2 true emotions that all emotions end up breaking down to, and those are fear, and love. Anything that doesn’t come from a loving place, is fear. “You are NOT like me.” Fear. “What you do, is not ok with me.” Also fear. Fear comes in many packages, and not all of it is immediately recognizable. But if you stop to think about it, it is about the loveless behavior we exhibit, due to our basic need to be understood, and to belong.

“Why should I belong?! Why?! If they don’t accept me, fuck em!” Fear. “She’s a complete mook! She uses terms like mook, which I judge as a racist term, but in actuality the meaning is italian slang for someone who is an idiot. Fine, she’s not a racist, but she’s judging someone as an idiot! Still hate her...” also fear. Fear runs rampant in our society right now. Hate, is real, because people believe in it’s existence, and react to it because it’s real to them. Our beliefs, create our past, current, and future reality.

So, men in black. A great trilogy of movies. Very smart, very cool, and extremely ahead of the curve as far as human evolution is concerned. They have gadgets for the things that we have control over ourselves, with our focus, and our perceptions about certain subjects. And I would like to be neutralized now, for reactivating all of my past “shit” beliefs about others, and myself. Because I now feel, like shit, having thought about all the past shit that was shit.

So, I pose this question to myself; “if you have that neutralizer machine that allows you to forget what you have just experienced, would it work on the thoughts you remember about the times you felt like shit if you reactivate the shit, by remembering it?” My husband thinks it’s different, and it wouldn’t work. He maintains that you have dragged all of your new experiences to support the old ones with you to your present when you reactivate it. I believe that if the feeling is reactivated, it’s still the same effect, shit, so instead of going back in time, and deleting the actual moment, you should be able to reactivate the feeling within yourself, and eradicate it with the neutralizer. Well, who’s right? Actually I don’t know. Cause how much of your past does it delete? 3 minutes? 10 minutes? Months? Years? There must be a setting or something. Cause in the first movie it’s a few minutes, right?? Then in the 3rd movie at the big climax I won’t give away, it’s like years. Like 3 or 4 years. So he forgot the shit. I mean he forgot everything and everyone and all the shit in between. So, at what point do you remember, what you clearly forgot? And the jump cut would be serious. You’d be like, “holy shit! I was in the shower, and now I’m sitting there eating ice cream on a park bench with some old people in a park on a sunny day and I think I looked like I could be in a karaoke video cause they ALWAYS film shit like that, and why? Cause I need to see a scene of 3 birds molting while I’m screaming“painkiller” by Judas Priest the karaoke version where it sounds like a synthesizer orchestra instead of that good hard rock shit?? And no! Both they and I ARE NOT satan worshipers, & Were also not satan his or her self because We are damn good people... shiiiiit... but wait, I shouldn’t speak for other people, so just forget that I said ANY of that shit, ok? Ok, agent j?

Agent j: yeah? (Say it in the low eddie Murphy is voice, like when he’s reeeeaaal serious n shit.)

Kari: can you delete all the shit I just said up until the point right before this entire thing I just wrote?

Agent j: no. (Say it in Eddie Murphy’s looooow voice again, the one he uses when he reaaally doesn’t want to engage in conversation with you, cause he thinks you’re a crazy witch with semi good grammar, cause I had to fix the “you’re” in “you’re a crazy witch” because autocorrect likes to make me look like I don’t include people and shit. YOU ARE, ok autocorrect?! I know what I’m trying to say! Do you? No! You don’t! So don’t change my shit! I’ll let YOU know when I want my shit changed! You better recognize n shit, witch or some shit...)

Kari: ok, fine. I’ll continue then... (sighs. Hey I tried for ya, people. Don’t say I didn’t ever do anything for ya...)...It’s just NOT not a good subject. All I can say is I love love, and all of loves peoples, which is ALL people, ok?! Cause people think orange is a political party to me, and it’s not, ok?! It’s not! It’s people who choose to be mean and crap like, alright? Cause there’s good people everywhere and why focus on the people who rip on you 24/7, cause you’re worth more than that! So yeah! I endorse my “LOVE shit! Argue with that by yourself n shit, cause I’m gonna love your mean ass regardless, ok? Cause that’s what love dictates my ass to do! Ok?! Yeah! So none of this hate shit any of your asses, ok? Cause I can’t take the shit. Any. More.... and, I love you. I also love those who chose not too, whenever that is, cause no one is 💯 in hate all the time, people are a mixed bag of moods and energies. Take this monologue for example! Good luck with THIS apple, and I love apples, and I love all people who love and hate and are indifferent to apples, therefore I love and choose all people, I engage with all inclusive energy and behavior, I celebrate differences and similarities both, I relish in the love that can be possible when people take the time to check in first with themselves, take ownership of their feelings and energy, and lead from a place of love and empathy, I care about you, and I care about others, and I care about me, as a part of the whole, and I love people, period. Love is the way, anything else is hell on earth. (takes deep breath, cause if you’re performing this monologue, you also have to read what’s in the parentheses too... so I had to make it worth performing, oh! & you better take some voice lesson or learn how to do Netherlands exercises or breathe deep from your diaphragm if you have one in or not to get waaaay down there to say all this shit in one breath, the way it’s intended to be read, or performed, cause I’m like Shakespeare’s first folio where he has a specific way to write and have you perform it with built in inflection called, “iambic pentameter” but no, I’m not Shakespeare, I’m a person seriously fucking with you, but I mean all this shit, at least the love stuff), only I’m naked and wet, cause they zapped my shit in the shower, and planted me in the park as a joke. Well, that shits not funny! Ok?! Cause I’m in a park naked with some old people lookin at my taters and my tots and my non tots in my Netherlands, ok?! So no! Don’t do that shit! Ok? No!

On second thought, we both are. Because our beliefs dictate what is real and true to us individually. So what he believes is true to him, and what I believe is true to me.

That poses another question; “how does one get on the same page with people who are not open to changing or adjusting their beliefs?” Some people are cool with not sharing the same opinions as others. “Oh well, I guess we can agree to disagree, cause I love your crazy ass regardless of our differences.” My ma and I are like that. She and I share different views on a lot of things, but we make it work, because we respect one another’s right to our beliefs, but come together, and choose to focus, on our similarities underneath it all. Do we both love? Yes. Do we both want the best for people? Yes. Do we both agree that love is a great thing to focus on? Yes. Great. Agreed. Love it is!

Love, is our neutralizer. Men in black is awesome, but in 2020, we’ve forgotten the basic principle of love. Love neutralizes the fear. Love brings us straight back together, where it feels better. Being right is great, and feeling indignation is satisfying for a few minutes, hours, months or years, but it never lasts. Love feels better. The reason why we choose to separate, is from a past hurt that we’ve experienced and have reactivated within us. I do it all the time. I find reasons to support my hypothesis that all people disrespect and disclude me. I find reasons, to stay in fear cause it feels safer not to engage.

I’m writing this for myself, as a reminder to stay open. But staying open to me, feels unsafe to people who take my openness and subsequent vulnerability for granted, and use it to their advantage. That’s another unhelpful belief I have. When you support yourself, and love you, you start to recognize that maybe people aren’t all that different from me after all. Maybe we all feel fear, and the need to protect ourselves. Makes sense. So, finding a common denominator (my son is doing math now, so I’m into that line of thought) is important not only for equations but for humanity’s interconnectedness as well. Finding common ground, and similarities, is important if you make it so. Feeling a safe place where we can agree, and all land not feeling taken, and trust is a first step to acceptance. And acceptance is a gateway to inclusion. And inclusion is a gateway to belonging. And belonging is a shared desire of all people. The feeling of love, when unrequited, hurts. So does the unrequited love we have for ourselves.

Thanks again agent j. Continually redefining ourselves, and our definition of love is very important, because we only feel the love is unrequited, when we rely on others to fill us up.

Agent j: you now believe that you are love, and have enough within yourself, for yourself, and everyone else. Now, go forth (yet again, how many times do I have to tell you this..) and LOVE dammit!

Yes. Utilizing the ability to love within ourselves eradicates all of this mess. But the bravery it takes to step out of your comfort zone to do it, that’s up to you. What do you believe? Do believe love is hard, or is it easy? Our beliefs run the show. So let’s take a look at those beliefs for a minute. How do we feel about ourselves, our lives, others, their lives, their beliefs, on and on and on. When you choose love, all of that fades into the background.

We are vibrational beings. We feel first, then think, then compare and contrast, then act. You can feel when someone is loving or not. And what we believe also dictates their supposed intention. So it’s a 2 way street. If we pay attention to how we feel, and look for love, are open to love and understanding that aids in seeing it. If you can’t get there, then choosing the next most loving thought will eventually enable you to see the more loving results in your life. But, you have to stick with it in order to witness it. And sometimes you have to really try to look for it, cause in the current energy of the world today, what you see, is what you have already thought. Old energy shows up, even if we change our minds in the inside. That can feel like ass. “But I’m different, and I’m still experiencing the same crappy thing.” Looking for a solution from the old energy you are reactivating? Probably not going to yield a result you will be happy with. The solutions come, by not focusing on the problem, at least for a bit, until you can adjust.

My son me a new term to me, “disjoint sets” the definition- they are sets that have no members in common. Basically, my old mindset. And then there’s the good ole Ven diagram, I love that one. The definition of a ven diagram is common elements brought together by circles of inclusion. My definition, probably different on google.

But the fact remains, life feels better, when we can share a common bond. Love is that bond. Love, is the underlying answer to all questions, to all comments, and all concerns. It’s a basic principle of life, that I’m still learning. I hope to be brave enough to ace it someday. Either that, or maybe some genius will invent the neutralizer for real. But maybe that’ll only be a temporary fix; kinda like reading the cliff notes. But cliff notes gloss over a lot of the good details. And I think by eliminating the love, I lose the opportunity to feel it.

Now let’s love with everyone, even those that differ from us, and really feel it. Cause you will benefit from it. Class dismissed.

[the-star-knight]

Tales of A Star

Tales of A Star

Summary: A retelling of the show through Star’s eyes

Chapter 3 - Great Expotations

Word Count: 2,781

◀︎Previous Chapter || Next Chapter ▶︎

Today was the day of the Great Exposition of Science, which is always interesting to visit, but I never was that fondly interested in.

I saw Rapunzel and Eugene talking to someone, which I assumed was Cassandra.

“Hey, Eugene, Hey Rapunzel, hi Cass—ahh!”

“Oh hey there, Star!” Varian said. I didn’t expect him to be here. But, then again this is an exposition all about science and well, Varian is really into science. 

“Oh, um....” My anxiety started to kick in and thoughts began to swirl in my head again. Is Varian upset with me since our last encounter? Should I still give him more space? Maybe, I should. I better get out of this quickly! Think, Star, think! “Oh, I think I hear my dad calling me! Okay, see you guys later bye!”

I ran off before I could hear anyone say anything. 

I sighed in relief. I really didn’t want to talk to Varian again, Not now, at least. This reminded me of the whole handmaiden situation where I accidentally tore a dress and the handmaiden wasn’t too pleased with fixing it. Since then, the handmaiden refused to talk to me and I’ve just kept my distance. 

I wandered around the exposition. It was nice to distract myself for a moment. I looked around the exposition. People gathered in several different presentations. I approached one of them.

“Hey, Star.”

I turned around and saw Rapunzel and Eugene together. 

“Oh, hey there.”

“Star, what happened back there?” Rapunzel asked.

“Huh? Oh, um, it’s just that I think it’s best for me to stay away from people that don’t like me.” I said. 

“Don’t like you?” Eugene asked. “Who doesn’t like you? Rapunzel and I like you and—oh….”

“Who? Varian?” Rapunzel said. 

“Um, yeah…” I scratched my head nervously. 

“Why wouldn't Varian like you?”

“Well, for starters, the first time we met I kinda attacked him. And the last time I saw him, well, he wasn’t exactly too thrilled to talk to me.”

“Okay,” Eugene said, “So, you two may have not gotten on the right foot, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you.”

“Yeah,” Rapunzel agreed. “Plus, I don’t think he doesn’t like you. He seems equally happy to see you.”

“You think so?” I wasn’t really convinced. “I don’t really want another handmaiden incident again.” 

“Yeah! Oh, and I have an idea!” Rapunzel jumped. “Varian said he was going to be presenting his new invention. Why don’t you offer him to help! I’m sure he'll be more than happy to have an extra pair of hands!” “Um...sure! Yeah, I’ll do it!” I said. I wasn’t sure what i was getting myself into but it’s worth a shot.

I went off to look for Varian. The judging doesn’t start for some time so he couldn’t be setting up yet. Maybe he was at the castle? 

Let me tell you something, don’t take away your eyes from the direction you’re walking at, looking away for more than even one second results in me nearly tripping. I looked away for one second and I bumped into Varian. 

“Oh, sorry,” we both said. 

“Oh, um, are you ok?” I asked nervously.

“Yeah, I’m fine!”

I took a deep breath, “So, um, Varian. Rapunzel told me that you were going to present your invention.”

“Yeah, I’m super excited to show everyone my invention.” “And, well, um, I was wondering if I could help you.”

“Oh, um…I, uh, actually already asked Cass to help me with that.”

“Oh,” I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. “Well, um, this is awkward…”

I began to twirl my braid while we stood in an awkward silence until I said, “Well, I better get going now. I have stable duties.” I didn’t have any chores to do in the stables, but at least I can get out of this situation. 

“Oh, ok, see ya.”

I walked away. I felt really dumb after that. I really hope I don’t show my face near him again. That was just too embarrassing.

I walked through the hallway and I saw Rapunzel down the hall. 

She saw me and ran up to me, “Oh, hey, how did it go?” 

I looked down, “Oh, Varian already asked Cassandra for help, so he didn’t need my help.”

“Oh,” Rapunzel frowned.

“I have an idea,” Rapunzel smiled. “Why don’t you come and watch my presentation?” “Wait, you’re presenting too?” I really didn’t expect the princess to present.

“Yeah, it was a last minute thing.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll be there.” I smiled at her.

Everyone was crowding near the stage. I looked around and decided to sit somewhere a bit away from the stage, I sat on the ledge of a fountain not far from the stage. From there, I could see participants preparing for their presentations. Eugene and Rapunzel saw me and waved at me from afar. I waved back at them. They stood in front of, what I guess, is Rapunzel’s invention.

Rapunzel stepped through the curtains and began her presentation. I was pretty impressed with what Rapunzel was able to make. Although, after the presentation, I don’t think Eugene was exactly thrilled with her invention with his new hair. 

Varian stepped onto the stage next. 

“Behold! The power of alchemy!” He said.

Shorty stepped through the curtains.

Shorty? I thought Cassandra was going to assist him. I scanned around the stage and saw Cassandra standing next to the judge. Oh, she must have been given the task to be his personal guard. Good for her, but I don’t think Shorty is known to be very helpful.

As I continued to watch Varian’s presentation, I could tell he was nervous. And with good reason too. 

Shorty nearly hurt the judge with a knife, luckily Cassandra was there to stop it. 

Now, I don’t really like to judge people by looks, but I had a feeling the judge was a stuck up prick. So, when he had the audacity to disqualify Varian, not because of anything he did, but what his assistant did, that really rubbed me the wrong way. And that’s putting it in the nicest way possible.

The next presentation was pretty much all pizzazz and no real science whatsoever. It was just a floating ball. I was very shocked to witness that thing win over Varian’s invention, where he made a new freaking element! Like, an element, come on! I mean the name of the element could use some work, but still…

Varian walked slowly off the stage and sat on the ledge of the fountain. I’ve never seen him so crestfallen. As much as I knew, this exposition meant the world to him. 

I sighed. I sucked up my pride and slid next to him. 

“Um, you know, I think your invention has a way bigger wow factor than that lady’s invention.”

Varian looked up at me, “Thanks.”

He sighed, “Look, I’m sorry for turning down your offer to help.”

“Why would you be sorry?”

“I know. I just can’t help it. I feel like I’ve let you down.”

“Let me down?” I laughed. “Really? Because, I thought I was the one letting you down...I-I thought you didn’t like me…”

“Didn’t like you? Why would you think that?”

“Well,” I began, “I kinda tackled you in our first interaction and well, after our last interaction, I just got the feeling that you, um, didn’t want to see me again…”

“What? No, no, not all!” Varian shook his head. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to come off that way.”

“It’s okay, I just have a harder time reading people. Also, I was just scared that you didn’t like me as a friend.”

Varian blinked and then smiled, “But, you are my friend.”

I smiled.

Those words were exactly what I needed to hear. Varian is my friend. No more thoughts running around in my head about it. This confirms it. Varian is my friend.

I saw Cassandra approaching us through the corner of my eye. 

“Oh, and we need to talk about the name of the element you’ve given it. You aren’t exactly keeping the fact that you like Cass a secret.” I teased.

I slid over and Cassandra sat in between us. Varian’s smile immediately disappeared.

“You should have won,” she said.

I couldn’t agree with her more. He absolutely deserves to win. 

I saw St. Croix approach Varian's invention. He took a look at it and began to inspect it.

"...I think he likes your invention, after all.” Cassandra said. 

"Master St. Croix! No! Don't!" Varian yelled as he ran off. Cassandra and I followed. 

"Back off, boy! I'm a scientist!" St. Croix said as he shoved Varian aside. 

Like I said, a stuck up full of himself prick. 

St. Croix pulled a lever on Varian's invention which built up so much pressure inside of itself, it flew itself off the stage and bounced off the walls.

It nearly hit Varian, but Cass pushed him out of the way. Fortunately, the machine hit St. Croix.

The machine began to form a funnel of clouds and lighting spark out of it, as it tried to suck everything in. 

I ran towards Varian.

"...how do we stop this thing?" Cass asked.

Varian explained the only way to stop it was through a manual lever, then ran off to stop it.

 Cassandra grabbed his arm, “Where do you think you’re going? You’re going to need an assistant.”

Varian smiled and then he looked at me, “No. I’m going to need more than one set of hands. Come on, you two!”

I smiled. 

We ran towards the machine where it floated in mid air, continuing to suck up everything. 

My gem started to glow faintly. I knew I had to transform, “Starlight, star bright, I wish for the power for me to fight,”

With a flash of light, I was in my full armor. 

Varian slowly began to rise off his feet. “Oh no! Cassandra! Star!”

Cassandra grabbed his leg while I grabbed his other leg. We struggled to keep him from flying away. 

I saw my hand begin to glow. A sword appeared in my hand. Good timing. I wedged my sword into the ground and gripped it tightly.

Varian tried to reach for the handbrake but it was too far. Varian needed a way to counteract the wind, which meant Rapunzel’s invention was just the right thing for the job. 

Varian approached closer to the lever as Rapunzel’s machine counteracted the wind. I was slowly starting to lose grip on my sword. “Come on, Varian! I don’t know how much longer I can hold on!”

“I’m almost there!” Varian yelled. “Got it!”

He pulled on the handbrake. For a moment, it felt like time stopped and everything floated in the air. Then, everything landed on the ground.

“We did it!” Rapunzel cheered.

Everyone cheered. 

Cassandra picked up the blue ribbon and gave it to Varian. Varian attached the piece Cassandrium to a necklace and gave it to her. Cassandra apologized to him. 

“Well, I guess I better start cleaning this mess up,” Varian chuckled.

“And I could possibly lend out a hand?” I asked.

“Sure,” he smiled.

 We turned around and began picking up the debris on the ground.

“Hey, Varian, you know what you did back there for Cass? That was really nice of you.” I said. 

“Well, you know anything for a friend,” he said. “Hey you know what? You should come visit me in my lab later. I would really love to have a chance to study your gem.”

“Really? Okay, I’ll head there once we finish cleaning up here.”

We overheard Cassandra and the Captain discussing. Ultimately, Cassandra decided to help us out.

“I got this idea from the black rocks that sprouted in my village,” he said.

“Black rocks?” Cass, Rapunzel and I said at the same time. We looked at each other. This wasn't good.

Later, we gathered around the black rocks 

As Rapunzel approached the rocks, her hair began to glow. 

"Fascinating," Varian said in amazement. "The rocks are having a reaction towards you…"

"Shh, we have to keep this a secret," Rapunzel hushed him. "My father has forbidden me to talk about this stuff."

Now, I see why Rapunzel was on edge about talking about it to my parents. If my parents found out about my magical necklace they might tell the King and I don't want Rapunzel to get in trouble. 

 "Promise me, you'll keep this a secret. Can I trust you Varian?" Rapunzel asked. 

"You can trust me, Princess," Varian reassured.

"Hey does your necklace glow that brightly usually?" Varian aaked.

I looked down at my necklace and saw it was glowing brighter than usual. "No, not really. Why is it doing that?"

Varian pondered for a moment, "Hm…there is a possibility that your necklace can be tied to this magic."

"Star, didn’t you say that you found that gem the same place where I touched the black rocks?" Rapunzel asked frantically.

I nodded, "You don't think that…"

"Yeah, you could possibly be tied to all of this," Varian said.

"Oh, well that's...just great." I wasn’t sure how to react to that. This all is just happening so fast and how the heck did i get myself into this? 

"How does that even happen?" I asked Varian.

Varian shrugged, "Who knows, but if you come with me to my lab maybe we'll get some answers."

"You want me to go to your lab?"

"Yeah, the sooner the better. Come on!" Varian grabbed my arm and we headed towards his lab.

"Okay," Varian said as put on his goggles. “Why don’t you go ahead and transform?”

“Oh...I... “ I wasn’t sure to tell Varian that I did not exactly know how to transform quite yet. "So...about that. I can't exactly transform on command."

"You can't?" Varian blinked.

I shook my head.

"Oh well, just try and we'll see."

I sighed, "Alright." 

I stepped back and closed my eyes, "Star light, star bright. I wish for the power for me to fight."

Nothing.

I opened an eye and saw Varian with a disappointing look on his face. 

"Sorry," I said.

"It's fine. I've already seen you transform twice so it's not like i don't believe you." He laughed and snorted a bit.

I chuckled.

Varian walked up to me.

"May I?" he asked.

"What?" I said frantically.

"Your necklace."

"Oh! Yes of course." I gave him my necklace.

"Thank you."

He put the necklace under magnifying glass.

I looked around his lab. I was pretty surprised that much wasn't missing after his home was completely destroyed after the last time I was here. 

"Hm, fascinating. I've never seen anything like this,” Varian said as he looked through his magnifying glass. “This looks like light is coming out of the gem rather than reflecting it.”

I took a peek in his magnifying glass. 

I always knew that this gem was different, but I always felt dumb for trying to point it out, as if I was thinking something that simply just couldn’t be. Now that I know that there is something more with this gem, I’m a bit afraid of what it could be.

“Since your gem glows around Rapunzel and the black rocks, do you think it has similar properties as the princess’s hair or the rock?”

Makes sense to me. “Uh, yeah. Might as well could be.”

“Here,” he gave me back necklace. "Try singing the healing incantation, maybe it'll do something."

"Um, okay," I felt hesitant to do so. For one, I feel embarrassed trying to sing, because I can’t sing. For another, I doubt whatever the gem is has some sort of healing ability. 

I sighed and gave in. 

It wasn’t as bad as I thought, but nothing happened. 

“Okay, so that one more thing we can cross off the list,” Varian said. 

I looked out the window. I noticed that it was beginning to get dark outside. 

“Uh, Varian, I think I should go home. Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.” I felt bad that I couldn’t help out Varian more. I also felt disappointed in myself. Maybe if I were able to transform, then we would’ve gotten more answers. I would be lying if I said I didn't want to know more about the gem. 

“It’s fine. There’s a lot of times in science where things don’t go exactly the way you wanted to. Trust me, I know first hand,” Varian laughed.

“Anyways, thanks for trying to help.”

“Anytime. You can come by anytime.”

“Yeah, alright. I’ll see you around Varian.”

I smiled and left.

[ober-affen-geil]

Please share all of the things about paper? I know nothing of anything you listed and now am curious and listening to someone who's passionate about something talk about it is honestly my favorite thing. What is deacidification and what consequences has it wrought? What qualities does onionskin paper possess and are you for or against it? Why are basic office supplies the devil and what, then, is your preference? WHAT IS THE GREAT PULP PAPER SWITCH?! I'm dying to know

Anon. You. You are my favorite.

Ok *cracks knuckles* important context. I am an archivist, I work with paper whose creation dates from anywhere to several hundred years ago to several decades ago. Our main goal in archives is long term preservation; basically make stuff last as long as possible as-is. 

Now, all of the stuff I mentioned in my tags on the post anon is asking about sort of tie together, so let me sing you the song of the archives.

tl;dr Office supplies are the devil and so is onionskin paper, paper used to be better and then it got worse, and humans tried to fix the bad paper by throwing chemicals at it.

Let’s start at the top. Idk how many of you did or had a paper making demonstration at some point in their youth, I did but I realize my experiences are not universal. Basically, paper is made by turning a material into pulp (exactly what it sounds like) and adding water and a sizing agent to make it a slurry (a very gross looking soup consistency). 

- A sizing agent is something that is used so that ink doesn’t “feather” when it touches the page. An unsized piece of paper will act like a paper towel with liquid. Not ideal for writing on. Sizing will become important later -

The slurry is then captured in a frame and the water is more or less squeezed out of it until you’re left with soggy pulp that you dry out and presto! Paper. Here’s a quick video showing the process.

Now. The first material that was used for paper was literally cotton rags. They were shredded and pulped and then made into paper. It’s called cotton rag paper and it was the main paper supply until the early-mid 1800s. It has a completely different feel to it than the paper we use today, it feels more like cloth. Paper money is made from something like it because it’s a lot more durable.

- Fun fact, “parchment”, which predated cotton rag paper, is not actually “paper” as we think of it. Parchment very specifically refers to a finely cured animal skin that was written on. Vellum is the same thing except finer, usually calfskin where regular parchment is sheepskin. -

Problem was, with the advent of movable type and higher literacy rates, the need for paper was steadily increasing. And cotton rags just weren’t cutting it. So manufacturers started looking for a more plentiful source. And they found trees!

Turns out wood pulp makes an excellent paper, toss in a little bleach and it works great! So around about the 1860s, most newspapers had switched over to wood pulp paper instead of cotton rag paper. And everything was looking up!

BUT.

Here’s the thing about wood pulp. It has a naturally occurring chemical called “lignin”, which is hella acidic. Not like burn-your-fingers acidic, but like over-time-this-material-will-chemically-eat-itself acidic. Which started to be a problem a couple decades after wood pulp paper started to be mass-produced. 

The good news is, what they quickly figured out was if they added a basic solution (who remembers their high school chemistry?) in the initial sizing agent it would neutralize the natural acidity in the pulp and the paper would last a lot longer.

But this did fuck all to help the paper that had already been made and was quickly becoming very fragile. Whatever can we do?!

Well, some genius (I use that term as sarcastically as possible) got the idea that maybe we could do the same thing - add a basic solution to acidic paper - to paper that had ALREADY been made! Brilliant! The process was called “deacidification” and it was very popular in the 1970s. The idea was to basically give at risk paper a “bath” and it would solve the problem. Here’s a video about it made by American higher ups that is absolutely hysterical imo.

Well, the university where I work had its own deacidification lab, which was fine. Deacidification does work, when done properly and when very specific criteria is met by the paper being treated. When that’s not what happens….it gets messy. The main problem with the deacidification process at my university is that it wasn’t being run by people who really knew what they were doing. Because what they understood about what needed to be done and the WHY behind what they were supposed to be doing were two different things.

Long story short they hella botched the deacidification process, and now not only does a large part of several of our more highly used collections have a lovely gross chemical residue all over it, they also managed to “deacidify” a good chunk of letters that were from the 1700s. AKA they were on cotton rag paper. AKA they were not actually acidic to begin with. I may be bitter.

Anyway. Speaking of types of paper, let’s talk about oinion skin. My sworn enemy. Onion skin paper was used for copying purposes when carbon copies were a thing, otherwise known as the early part of the 1900s up until when copy machines became a thing in the middle-late part. It’s still used if you’re filling out something with a “copy” attached to it, usually yellow, that you get to keep.

It’s called “onion skin” because that’s kind of what it looks and feels like; it’s thin like tissue paper but it’s sized in something that makes it much more durable. Easier to make multiple copies at once on a typewriter by stacking several sheets together. Great! Except it’s the fucking cockroach of paper.

It just fucking LIES there and is fragile enough that you can’t really do too much with it, but whoever sold their soul to make it less destructible than it should be got their money’s worth because it won’t die. It just. Doesn’t age the same way regular paper from the same time frame does and it doesn’t fucking go away.

But GOD HELP YOU if there’s a paper clip attached because you ain’t getting that sucker off without tearing the page short of an intervention by a surgical professional and the pope himself.

And do you know why? BECAUSE OFFICE SUPPLIES ARE THE LITERAL WORST.

I’m talking staples, paper clips, tape, sticky notes, glue sticks, binders, stick-on labels, et fucking cetera. It comes down to two things, metal and adhesive, and the fact that neither of those two things age very gracefully.

You know what’s fun? Clicking a stapler together. Very satisfying, punching that thing through the paper you just finished and are ready to turn in. You know what’s NOT fun? Prying rusty staples out of a stack of 50 year old papers with your fingers because they’ve rotted themselves into it and the tool you have for it won’t work. Same for fucking paper clips, because rusty metal eats into paper. Seriously, there will be a hole left when you finally pry it out. Not to mention rust stains. 

And ADHESIVE oh MAN. The thing is, over time it dries out. And rots. So depending what you’re looking at, it could be a sticky, half-melted pile of goo that doesn’t want to stay where it was, it could be straight up gone with a yellow stain to mark where it was, or it could have eaten into the paper it was stuck to and left a hole. Any way you slice it, it ain’t doing it’s job any more. Which is why traditional scrapbooks are usually an utter shit show.

But anyway, that’s that on that. If you have MORE questions, I am very, very happy to rant or find pictures of horror stories. There are a lot!

[pilot-boi]

Missing In Action: Chapter Five

Grace Is Wasted

Take all the courage you have left, and waste it on fixing all the problems in your own head.

AO3 LINK

It’s day three. Or four, maybe. It’s the third time he’d woken up, at any rate. It was hard to tell how much time had passed without windows, and Commando and his lackeys would punish him if he asked any questions. 

That didn’t stop him from asking. The lack of information was driving him crazy. Although the fact that the torture wasn’t slowing down was probably also a major contributor to that. Not that they were any closer to getting answers out of him.

Every muscle ached. He’d had more trips to the Tub than he could count, and he was becoming concerningly used to the feeling of water in his lungs, and of waking up in places he didn’t remember traveling to. The lack of autonomy wasn’t helping things, but his legs weren’t really working properly. He couldn’t focus as well as he should be able to, and the general fuzziness in his brain was affecting his coordination.

That was probably the lack of food’s fault.

Jaune’s stomach rumbled in response, as if sensing that he was thinking about it. He glared down at it, silently willing it to shut up. Not that he could really see it, his cell was  pitch black after all.

The food was messing with his perception of time as well. Jaune wasn’t too proud to admit that his life was regimented into time before a meal, and time after a meal. He was a growing boy, food was a must. A requirement. And the lack of it was taking him out of the real world more than he’d like to admit.

The first day or so he’d been able to tell how much time was passing by when his stomach would grumble and protest or ache from lack of food, but now all of him ached and he was always hungry. So that was no help anymore.

Commando at least was providing him with water. Sour, mildewed water, but water nonetheless. So he was unlikely to die anytime soon. Just suffer. And wasn’t that just dandy?

Light peeked into the room as the door creaked open. Jaune squinted into it, wincing after the hours of darkness. “Is it morning already?” Jaune rasped, trying to sound casual. “I thought you guys might’ve forgotten about me.”

The tall man didn’t respond, he never did, but his companion chuckled darkly. That was all the response he ever got out of these two. Fear of Commando kept them from saying anything more to him. Honestly Jaune couldn’t blame them, he’d be scared of Commando, too.

Not that he was scared of the man. Nope. Not at all. And it wasn’t like he was likely to have a meaningful conversation with Rando and Blondie, but he was starving for human interaction. It was just another thing they were depriving him of.

Jaune had taken to talking to himself, if only to make sure that he still could talk. He was certain that that was perfectly fine. Nothing to worry about there.

Rando unlocked the chain from the wall and let Jaune drop onto the ground. Every time he’d see it coming, and he’d try his hardest to catch himself, but after who knew how many hours not using his arms… Well it would be easier to compare his arms to limp noodles than to actual arms. 

“Aw come on guys,” Jaune groaned, attempting to push himself back up off the floor, “Didja have to drop me? Every gods damned time.” Rando hefted him up from the floor and yanked him towards the door, perhaps more roughly than he normally would’ve done. 

The barely healing bruises and scrapes on his wrists flared with pain. His shoulder wasn’t pleased either, and was telling him so through a morse code message of lightning bolts and pain and throbbing. Fun stuff! Good stuff. “Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today,” Jaune grumbled, and got clubbed in the side of the head for his trouble.

Blondie led the way down the hallway, twirling the keys on his finger and whistling merrily. Jaune glanced around the dark hall, trying to see if there was some sign posted to explain why Blondie seemed to cheery. Maybe it was the man’s birthday. Well too bad, Blondie, you weren’t gonna be getting a present from him, no-sir-ee bob.

Jaune belatedly realized that he was muttering this all under his breath when Blondie chuckled again. Dammit Jaune, keep it together. Can’t crack this early, he had a responsibility to everyone to keep it together. 

Tensing against his will as they approached the now too-familiar door in front of the room with the Tub, Jaune dug in his heels, anything to stop them from going in the room. And then they were passing by the door. Jaune sagged in relief, feet stumbling over themselves when Rando yanked the chain to get him moving again.

A new torture then? Jaune dreaded to think of what Commando could’ve come up with now. Lasers? Sharks? Laser sharks?! The possibilities were endless. 

Blondie was coming to a halt by a door now, and pulling it open to let Rando drag him in. Jaune followed cautiously, eyes roving the new space for any way to escape, or for any hint of what was coming.

It was a small room. Concrete walls, not a crack to be seen, and a single chair. The chair looked like one of those ones he’d seen in the hairdressers his mom and then his sisters would drag him to, the ones with the big globe thingies over them. This one looked far less welcoming though.

The straps on the arms, legs, and headrest would do that. Fat black wires were running to it from a metal rectangle of a machine in the corner. Commando was standing by the machine, fiddling with dials, flipping switches, pressing buttons. 

Jaune tried not to think of how much this set up looked like the vault in Beacon. He wouldn’t be able to help anyone if his mind got sucked back into the past.

Rando shoved him into the chair, and got one of the manacles locked over Jaune’s arm before he could jump up. Blondie got the other arm locked in, and then fastened the ones around his chest. “So, Boss Man, what’s the plan for today?” Jaune called over to the man, doing his best to ignore what the two men were doing.

He couldn’t move again. Great. Just dandy. 

“Tsk, tsk, Jauney,” Commando chided him from the controls, “What have we gone over about asking questions?” The helmet thing was lowered around Jaune’s head, where it sat menacingly. Or as menacingly as a helmet thingy could sit. 

“And the nicknames, those have gotta end, kid.” He pressed a button and a pair of somethings detached from inside the helmet and spiked into the skin at his temples with a sharp sting of pain. They...They actually broke through the skin! How the hell did they do that? What happened to his Aura?! “Insubordination is a big no-no around here.”

Commando pressed a button on his console, and sparks of electricity arced from the machine directly into Jaune’s scalp. 

Now, Jaune had been electrocuted before. He’d been an idiot teenager, and zapped his fingers with batteries. Once one of his younger sisters turned the lights back on while he was changing them and he fell off a ladder from the shock. And with being on a team with Nora the human lightning bolt, electrocution was an occupational hazard.

This was nothing like that.

He jumped as the electricity seemed to short circuit the neurons in his brain. His muscles spasmed and contracted involuntarily, receiving too many signals and too few signals simultaneously. And he could feel the skin around the electrodes burning and blistering. 

Jaune was used to passing, accidental charges. He was in no way prepared for a focused shock, meant to stun and hurt.

The shock only lasted a second, but even that was one second too long. Jaune sagged against his restraints, glaring up at Commando when the man chuckled. “Yeah that stings a bit doesn’t it, boy?” Commando took up the now familiar spot in front of Jaune and the shorter of the two henchmen took his place at the controls.

Jaune pulled against the restraints experimentally, but he couldn’t budge them an inch. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew what was coming now. Question time.

“Let’s begin,” Commando said, standing at attention before him and crossing his arms behind his back. “Where is the Relic of Knowledge?”

“Like I’d tell you that,” Jaune scoffed, and strained against his bonds when a jolt of energy shot through him, frying his nerve endings.

“What have I said about back talk, kid?” the man tsked, and nodded to Blondie at the controls. Blondie changed something, and the machine he was strapped into hummed a little louder. Jaune grimaced nervously and glanced over at the man. “Don’t worry about him, worry about me,” Commando interrupted, snapping his fingers. “Now, where is the Relic of Knowledge?”

“I don’t know-” he started, getting cut off by a longer, and somewhat stronger jolt of electricity. Jaune yelped in pain, biting his tongue to keep from crying out more, his muscles going rigid and his head pounding. His eyes were wide open, and he couldn’t close them if he wanted to. After a second that lasted an eternity, the pain stopped and he slumped against his bonds.

“Don’t lie to me.” Commando was speaking before the aftershocks even got out of his system. The machine hummed a little louder, and Jaune shifted in his restraints as well as he could. He squeezed his eyes shut, relying on years of doing that and having his headaches lessen. It didn’t help this time, but it had been worth a try. “Let’s try this again: Where is the Relic of Knowledge?” 

Jaune just shook his head, not trusting himself to not mouth off again. Commando must have given the signal, because his world exploded in pain again. Behind his closed eyelids, Jaune could swear he could see bolts of lightning shooting across his vision.

His mind was on fire, too many thoughts shooting along his neurons. Somebody was screaming, it might even be him. In an effort to stop, he bit down on his tongue until the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth, decided that he would rather lose his vocal chords than his tongue, and went right back to screaming.

“Okay, that’s gonna start to hurt pretty soon” Jaune stuttered, the aftershocks of electricity making the words feel sharp and pointed in his mouth.Or maybe that was from all the yelling. Who’s to say.

An image of the lamp sprang unbidden into Jaune’s mind. He could see it now. Intricate twirling gold framework like lace holding a softly glowing blue lamp. It would be on the table in the living room, or hung swinging from Ruby or Oscar’s belt. 

Jaune hesitated, pain pulsing in his head like a jackhammer. It would be so easy to just say where it was.

But he couldn’t. If they knew where the lamp was, they would know where his friends were. And he couldn’t risk their safety for anything.

“Go to hell,” he spat as defiantly as he could while strapped into an electric chair, delighting in the way that smile finally vanished from Commando’s face.

The two electrodes pressed into his temples and all thoughts fled his mind as the pain in his head increased a thousand-fold. Next thing he knew, he was screaming. His world blotted out, and all he could feel was the tormenting feel of mind-numbing agony. It hurt, oh gods it hurt. Stop. Stop it. Please just end it!

He’d answer any question they gave him now. Anything at all just to get out of this.They were still asking him things, he could see their mouths moving, but he couldn’t hear a thing over the world-ending mind-shattering pain. The knight couldn’t even bring himself to stop screaming long enough to beg for them to stop.

Jaune was dying. He was already dead. He’d always hoped that death was painless, but there was no way this much pain could exist in the living world.

Unable to bear the pain any longer, Jaune’s world went dark.

Commando stopped his line of questions when the boy went limp in the harness. Hm. How typical. But they’d found the upper limit of the boy’s pain tolerance at least. That would prove useful in the coming days, if the boy even lasted that long.

He had to admit, the boy had lasted longer than he’d expected, and had refused to give them any answers to boot. But no matter. He would break in time, they all did.

Jaune woke up again in his cell, chained to the wall. It was definitely colder than it had been before, his breath was fogging up in the darkness in front of him. His muscles were stiff with disuse, and his stomach ached with hunger.

The last thing he could remember was his insides singing.

His eyes were barely blinking open before he was being dragged back out of his cell. Jaune’s feet didn’t want to cooperate with him, but he did at least manage to stay upright.

Then he was back in the Chair. And it all started again. He managed to last a little long this time, because he knew it was coming, but eventually darkness covered his vision again.

The next time he woke up, he was already being dragged down the hallway. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get his legs to support his weight. His vision was blurred, and hunger was stabbing at his insides like hot knives. Or maybe that was just the after effects of the shocks.

And then the shock treatment again.The session ended sooner than usual that day. He mustered up the strength to throw a couple stinging insults back in Commando’s face. The man did not like that..

The third time he woke up already in the Chair. Maybe it was the next day, maybe it was still the same session. Jaune had no way of knowing, and what was the difference either way? The end result would be the same, none of it mattered.

Gods he was so tired. The weight of his hunger and exhaustion weighed down on his bones like a lead blanket.

Jaune learned pretty quickly that speaking out would only get him more pain. Nicknames would get him smacked hard enough that stars would blink into existence in front of his eyes. 

A few sessions in the Chair and many repetitions had him realizing that it was better for everyone if he just kept his mouth shut. Wasn’t like he was going to answer their questions anyway. Giving in and calling Commando “Sir” earned him the meal they’d been denying him, even if it turned his stomach to show that man anything even approaching respect. 

Didn’t help him at all that he wolfed down the food so fast that his starving body immediately rejected it. 

It became a routine. Wake up in his cell or already in one of the other rooms, pain and questioning, passing out, questioning and pain, and then back to his cell. And if he was especially good, then he’d get a scrap of food. Like a dog.

A poorly treated, blatantly abused, grossly underfed dog, but a dog nonetheless.

[sanguinarysanguinity]

You made that amazing vid, Something Good, and know so much about various Holmes adaptations. What less-known adaptations would you recommend for watching and where to find them?

Oh, gosh, so much of this is a matter of personal taste! For myself, I like a competent, capable Watson, a Holmes that feels human joys and frailities, and a strong, affectionate relationship between them. So, things I love that deserve a bigger following:

Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson (1979-1980), starring Geoffrey Whitehead and Donald Pickering, is one of my two favorite discoveries from making the vid. Holmes is reserved but warm-hearted (and excellent with children!), and Watson is strong and active, with much to contribute to the partnership. (There’s a little bit of a through-line where Watson teaches himself Holmes’ methods, getting better and better at it as the series progresses.) Furthermore, the Holmes-and-Watson dynamic is lovely, with lots of affectionate, teasing banter. (In fact, Holmes can barely stop trolling Watson for long enough to solve a case!) Honestly, this is my comfort adaptation, the one I’m mostly like to put on when I’m blue or anxious and want to feel better. 

(Also, Holmes and Watson wear eyeliner, and who doesn’t need a Holmes or Watson in eyeliner?)?

If I understand its history correctly, it never aired in the UK or the US (and thus is far better known in Italy and Germany than among anglophones); further, it was tied up in a rights battle for yonks, so the only DVD release that I know of is dual-language German. But if you can tolerate somewhat-deteriorated VHS rips, most of it is available on YouTube. (Try this playlist, or this one.) I love it well enough that I gave myself the German DVD for a birthday present: it’s region-free, so it’ll play on both US and UK machines.

名探偵ホームズ | Sherlock Hound (1984-1985). Charming and sweet and silly (omg, Moriarty and his over-the-top mecha!), this is my other big favorite from making the vid. This is Japanese anime (the original six episodes were directed by Miyazaki, before the project got tied up in a rights battle and he moved on to the other things), set in a steampunk universe where everyone is a dog. (Except for Moriarty, who is a wolf.) Hound himself is hands-down one of my very favorite Holmeses: courteous, warm-hearted, human in his frailities, passionate in his defense of his clients, and with a child-like joy in his calling. Watson is fierce and growly and stubborn but also very warm-hearted, and the two of them are smitten with each other. (And both of them with Mrs. Hudson. Everyone loves Mrs. Hudson: even Moriarty!) Moriarty is ridonk over-the-top and I adore him: a brilliant inventor but a sad disaster at criminal masterminding. If you want more info, I have a longer post on Dreamwidth about why I love it, complete with links to various moments in the series.

If you’re in the US, the whole thing is available on the studio’s YouTube channel, although they have the episode order wrong and a few eps misnamed: start with “The Four Signatures” and continue to “The Mazalin Stone,” then you’re fine with playlist-order thereafter. Outside of the US I have no idea how to lay hands on it, sorry.

If you do subtitles, there are three Russian adaptations that are well worth your time: 

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson (1979-1986) aka “Russian Holmes” 

My Dearly Beloved Detective (1986), and 

Sherlock Holmes (2013) aka “New Russian Holmes”. 

The original Russian Holmes (1979-1986) is much like the Jeremy Brett Granada series in its loving regard for canon, and is similarly well-respected. Livanov and Solomin are a charming Holmes and Watson, and I honestly like their Reichenbach better than Granada’s. I find it a little slowly-paced overall, but if you’ve finished Granada and want something similar but with its own take, this is a solid choice.

My Dearly Beloved Detective is… gosh… a female-centric tragi-comic satire, maybe? It’s a bizarre little film, but I am fond of it. Its premise: all of England, much taken with Conan Doyle’s stories, cried out for a Holmes and Watson of their very own, and Shirley and Jane were hired to fulfill the need; unfortunately, Scotland Yard is jealous of Shirley’s and Jane’s success, and conspire to take them down. The film has as devoted a femslash following as you might expect, but I don’t think it will spoil too much if I warn you that nearly all the fic is pining or fix-it or both.

New Russian Holmes is a subversion of the original Russian series, where instead of a romantic fog-and-gaslight Victorian London, we get something much more gritty and Dickensian. I adore this series’ willingness to get down into the muck and wrestle with Holmes canon, but a lot of people hate it for that very same reason, so ymmv. I will say, however, that Panin is one of the very best Watsons running, and anyone who disagrees is categorically wrong. 

All three of these (and more besides!) can be found via @spiritcc, who is part of a fan-driven subtitling team that has heroically provided English subtitles to a variety of Russian Holmes adaptations. Masterpost for video and subtitles here.

Mystery Queen (2017) is a Korean drama that was released too late for us to use in the vid, but ugggggghhhhh it hurts me that it’s not in there. Holmes is an adorable, sweet, scythingly sharp housewife who is studying in secret against her family’s wishes to become a police detective; Watson is the highly-decorated police detective that she ends up collaborating with. I cannot convey how much I adored the first season: on the one hand, emotionally complex cases that ripped my heart out; on the other, fanservice slathered on with a goddamned trowel. (In the first episode, Holmes and Watson went from meet-cute to Three Garridebs in seven minutes flat.) I just. I mean. It’s a hard-fought Holmes-and-Watson relationship, but good god I love them each and together, and by series’ end either one would walk through fire for the other. I haven’t watched season two yet, but I have high hopes for it.

You can watch it with English subtitles on Vicki.com: Season 1 and Season 2.

And that’s my starter list of favorite lesser-known Holmes things – I hope you find something here you like! If there’s a specific kind of thing you’re looking for, let me know and I’ll try to make you a rec – this fandom is large enough that there’s a Holmes and Watson for nearly any taste. ;-)

[tiny-smallest]

enCOURAGE

Yeah sometimes when I’m hyperfixating on multiple things my brain tries to mash them together. Usually that ends up weird, but sometimes still serviceable. This is one of those times.

So anyway, my version of Henry from Bendy and the Ink Machine talking to Mephy, who belongs (in this capacity) to @raeloganthesonic06fangirl. Where are they? I dunno! How did they meet and what kind of crazy adventure happened for them to become close enough to have this conversation? Search me! When does this happen? Definitely after Flux but otherwise who knows! The old man had Words so I wrote ‘em and that’s about it. I dunno maybe he’s their babysitter sue me I just wanted to get it out so maybe my brain would shut up.

Mephiles wasn’t one who went off to sulk often, but it was a warm night and Dark was distracted by Iblis, so now was as good as time as any. Really, he was due for a good sulk. The last months had been nothing but pure nonsense.

He’d anticipated at least a half hour of alone time, so hearing the old man behind him made his fur puff out and his body force him to his feet.

“Nice night,” he commented, sitting down on the front steps beside the boy. Mephiles twitched his noise, eyebrows drawing together with a little noise.

For a few minutes they sat in silence. Mephiles could almost forget Henry was there. Almost.

“... So... are you going to share what’s eating you?”

Well there went the almost. He drew his shoulders together and went to pull his feet up, but the front step was too small for that position to feel comfortable. With a sound of irritation he set his feet back down on the step below.

“Great start,” Henry added, though his voice had softened. Mephiles turned his head to glare at him.

“What are you gonna do if I decide I don’t want to?”

“I mean... I can’t force you to do anything, and I wouldn’t really want to.” he shrugged. “But fair warning; I am a master at waiting. Lots of practice.”

Boy did he have practice.

“Also, might be a good idea to set a good example for your brothers.”

Mephiles’s frown deepened. “That’s not fair!”

“Oh it’s totally fair.” Henry raised his eyebrows. “You’re the one always telling them to talk about stuff. Not very good for you to not do the same, you know?”

“But-!” He cut himself off with indecipherable grumbling, folding his arms across his chest.

Several minutes later, he looked back to Henry. Well, at least he didn’t seem to find this amusing. “... Fine.”

“Okay, good. So. What’s got you so upset?”

He was back to his arms folded across his chest, head down. “... I’m so tired of being a coward.”

“... Pardon?” He didn’t hear that correctly, right?

“I’m. So. Tired. Of being a coward.” His voice was a pitch higher that time, but still smothered with shame. “Every time! Every time something goes wrong, I lose it!”

“I wouldn’t say that...?”

“I’ve needed the purple Emerald on me just to try to circumvent that! And the second someone realizes I have it that plan goes to pot!” He looked up to fix the old animator with a stare. “I’m always afraid when people need me most!”

“I... you still stick around-” 

“But I still get scared at the worst times! To death! I mean- yeah, I get angry too- when Dire just- tried to take over Dark’s body like that I was furious! I hadn’t been that angry in a long time! But! I was also scared! Especially when he actually- started-”

The world was sliding out of focus.

“Kid... you’re confusing bravery with fearlessness.” Henry interrupted, the world snapping back. “Trust me, those are two totally different things. The latter’s also known as stupidity.”

Sufficiently distracted from his oncoming panic, Mephiles looked at him, mouth slightly open in surprise.

“Fear’s a part of life. It’s natural to be afraid of stuff. It’s why you don’t go doing stupid things; the entire point of that part of your brain-” he tapped the side of his own head “-is to keep you alive.”

“But-”

“No buts, really. To fear is to be a person. Bravery isn’t the absence of fear. It’s the refusal to let bad things happen despite it. And you stayed there.”

“I got destroyed.”

“You did, but what else could you have done?”

“Shadow would’ve found a way,” he muttered, propping his hand up on his chin.

“... Okay, let’s pretend for a minute that he was there, not you. This thing was inside the kid, right?”

“Yes,” he snorted, amused at how casually Henry called Dark a child. As he was every time.

“Okay, so Shadow couldn’t just punch the problem away. Can’t Chaos Spear it. No attacks at all, because anything he might use would just kill the child, not the monster controlling his body. So that leaves... stay, or run away.”

“The camera-”

“Is totally useless if you don’t have it. He didn’t know Dark as well as you did, so Dire would’ve used that moment of taking him by surprise to bat the camera away. Maybe break it. In fact things probably would’ve been a lot worse if you weren’t there because once the camera is broken...”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Mephiles stiffened.

“You stayed. You tried. You refused to back down or submit to any of his twisted mind games. There’s a reason Dark calls you brave and anytime something nutty happens, the way you refuse to just let awful stuff happen to the people you love? Makes you braver than plenty of other folks out there. There are those who would’ve left him there and not to get help, either.”

Oh, he did not like the lead that settled in his gut from even the thought of that...

“Your powers are getting stronger. Maybe you’re never going to handle fear all that well, but I don’t think you have to.” He gave him a little smile. “You’ve got everything you need already. If not being quite as scared is something that will come, then... it’ll come. For now just... go be twelve and quit worrying. You’ll get more gray hairs than me, turning that junk over in your mind.”

Maybe he had a point.

“Trust me, I’ve seen a lot, kid.” He ruffled the top of his head. “Believe an old man: It’s not worth it. Go have fun while you’re young. Believe in the people around you when they say nice things about you. You’ll live longer.”

“... Okay.” He stood up, dusted off his front, and smiled. “... Thank you, Henry.”

The human smiled back with a wink. Wow, that family resemblance to his son was so obvious in that face. “You’re welcome, kiddo.”

The front door opened and closed as he went back inside to join the twins and their crazy K’nex contraptions. Henry sighed, standing up and popping his back.

“Ah! I should really stop sitting down on such hard surfaces, yeesh...”

Mephy might be sunshine incarnate but he still throws tantrums several times even after figuring out everything about himself and untangling himself from Dark’s identity and you know what? Sometimes you just gotta let the boy get mad. At least he’s a million times easier to convince to talk than... mostly anyone Henry could’ve been trying to talk to here.

“Oh thank god this is gonna be easier than Bendy. There is a god.” --Henry, probably

[greyred]

3x3

Three appointments in three days. 

That’s how restoration begun. 

I was pretty down mentally and physically when I wrote my last entry. But I guess you gotta hit the bottom to start all over again. Life is like a funny computer game. I remember when I was a kiddo and loved playing Tetris, when levels got too easy, I would smash the blocks to bottom randomly before fixing them up, so the game would be more interesting, would give more tension, resistance. Thrill. My whole life have been seeking for thrills. Subconsciously. And now I don’t know any better. As with past weeks I managed to get my life back on track I also ended up picking up a new hobby that is definitely thrilling and highly dangerous. I’ve been past weeks sober, in order to balance my body and mind, but my soul has still life on it’s own. And now it feeds on speed and cars. Don’t get me wrong! I’m not talking about drugs! I’m back in zero-tolerance again as I’ve always been. I’m talking about speed that you can reach with driving a machine, an automobile. New friends, new hobbies. Right now there is nothing more thrilling than driving 200 km/h while being totally sober and feeling like you will have a heart attack any second. Or you will literally crash and be dead. Heh.. lucky i’m somewhat suicidal, so I don’t really care. But on those little seconds when you think ‘Oh MY God We gonna crash!’ in that small break in a second - I feel like I do want to live after all. Because the danger of death is as close to touch, it becomes a very real thing. And something you can not really control. Depends on a way you decide to take your own life you still have a backing up time. But not at a highway! And that pure sober adrenaline that I have been enjoying lately have oddly given me back a will to live.

Now going back on those 3x3 days when all this started. The satisfaction of accomplishment is one of the best depression cures. It’s not the pills (medication for depression like AD’s) that cure you, it’s your actions. It’s not how medicated zombie you are, it’s what you do with your time all in all. That’s why I don’t believe in pills. Essentially they’re just legal drugs. I believe in therapy. Fresh, powerful, motivating ideas and ways how to accomplish tasks in your life. Or how to simply enjoy little pleasures. It all starts from little things, you get up and do one, just one thing in your house that you have been postponing. The satisfaction will give you motivation to do more. It will come by it’s own. You just gotta give it a little push at first, to get the ball rolling. Eventually you get “high” on completing different obstacles that at first seemed impossible. First you get things done, secondly you boost up your mood and confidence and in the end you feel proud, guilt-free. Accomplishments. 

Sounds easy to say, right ? Let me tell you how I got my ball rolling. I knew I had appointments and responsibilities to follow, so I pulled my big-boy pants up and got myself outside. The scary outside, with people and places. Three places to be in one day, three days to follow. Everything on time. I executed them well, until it was an hour to meet a temporary social worker for my boring but important paperwork. Let’s say, sometimes you don’t click with another human being. And that’s that. This happens and it’s nothing to worry about. We don’t have to click with everyone. I think she might have lacked of social skills, because I got two panic attacks in her office, first one i dodged, the second one was unavoidable, so I had to leave the building at once. On my way back to home, counting minutes in metro, I got somehow frustrated about that unfortunate situation. I had still 2 appointment to follow after that one but I was fleeing home like a coward. Yes the understandable side of me accepted it. This happens, nothing to be anguished about, you can continue next day if needed. But I got frustrated because I felt like one unfortunate person in my day had ruined not only my mood but also my plans. And I love my plans. I love making lists, and following them strictly. How could I get the “high” of accomplishment if I will just let this happen and run away? As the metro drove in direction to home I suddenly got up and walked out. Not at my home stop. At the stop where was going to happen my next task. I was too mad to give up. I was rebelling! Rebelling against my own panic attack. Took all that anger and converted it into energy. Pure energy. Despite of awful weather, despite of panic attack and public & social anxiety, I was just a raw power that decided not to run, but fight back. And that’s how I accomplished the rest of the tasks. I did them one by one. I could have turned back to home any time I wanted, but I didn’t. With every step further, I gained more power. I was playing that life’s Computer Game with fury.

And in the end of the day I was yet again - proud of myself. It was all worth it. Perhaps that unpleasant person was a good thing after all. I try to find something good in bad moments. It sure was an efficient exercise served by life itself. And yes, there will be bad days where you don’t really feel like going anywhere and that’s fine too. But also there will be better days when you will have the strength to impress not only people around you but the most importantly - Yourself. One is sure, nothing will happen when you sit at home surrounded with your own haunting, overthinking demons. The most hardest thing to do with depression is going out, the most effective cure for depression is going out. I know the feeling of controversy. Yet.. No one will do and live your life other than yourself! Always, remember that.

What comes to my social life. If anyone can handle my sharp ups-and-downs right now being besides me then the Marine seem to be progressing in that area. Which is quite refreshing. I’m very used to the fact that it takes a few months for one to grow to know each other until you can see a person behind the mask. And I sure am one hard candy! Yet without words I feel how he really tries to understand me. We don’t have to talk about every little perspective and detail and a tail of the thought and idea as I’ve had to do in the past. It’s like a mutual understanding of each other. That’s something you can share only with a person who have seen life more than a regular bloke. Been in a long relationship as well. I’m glad he has kids from past relationship, because I sure will not reproduce. And I’m entirely aware that one day I still might fcuk this thing up. But I no longer live in the shadow of fear of that. I love the way how easy he makes everything. We just are. No restricting specific boundaries. All that corny nonsense that you have been copy-pasting from one person to another and in your brain you know it’s going to lead to nowhere. I am taking this one differently. Am lucky and grateful with a reasonable and understanding companionship. And enjoying while it lasts. And if one day shall be the last day, then that will be enjoyed in it’s full as well! 

You learn from mistakes. We all do. We educate ourselves with experiences and situations, with people and time. As we grow older we learn how to adapt and overcome. And the number of mistakes, which should rather be called lessons of life, varies from a person to person. We are all different. And that is okay. You should not race your life achievements with no one else than yourself. People in your life come and go, yearning for past will only do harm. Sometimes people come and stay, sometimes they leave, sometimes they are not worth of your time and energy. For instance I tried to stay friends with ex-bf, Sancho. I usually manage to break up in good terms. But sometimes it’s simply impossible. How ever tolerable I was with his quirks, he still managed to go full-psycho on me in the end and made it simply impossible to keep any communication in future. Sometimes I have to make a hard decision and just delete person from my life. As I have done it before. He played his cards himself, no one else to blame. And it’s not just that, it’s with everyone in your life. It’s acknowledging that your time and your energy is the highest value you own. And using and directing it in useful ways. My psychologist told me - I should be more selfish and learn how to say ‘No’. As I’m disastrously selfless when it comes to sharing my time with people. Sometimes I would promise to meet someone, or go somewhere just because I didn’t know how to refuse. And later suffer in all of my politeness. I think I’m getting better in not consenting the vibe. We should all be more selfish with our time. Only so little to spend in this chaotic planet. Shouldn’t we aim for complacency. And yet still be motivated to desire for more, progress, move on. Yet not to forget to stop time to time and feel and enjoy the achievements and little beautiful moments. For the life is never done, it’s never complete. It will keep on going with it’s beautiful chaotic ups-and-downs as it did before us and as it shall continue after us. Just like people come and go in your life, it’s just the same with the whole existence.

There’s miles to pass and I’m not in a hurry. Life changes in every second and for me personally it have been rich in colors, abundant in experiences, I’m curious where it will take me. And I’m happy to share my observations with my readers. 

I am once again in the verge of change. If that already hasn’t happened. I believe I have given a good push for this ball to start rolling. And I’m keen to pursue. The change comes when you want it for yourself because of yourself. I believe that is the most effective way. If you wish to change for someone else, then no matter how long you play this game - you will always be dependent of that person’s presence. Like I was once dependent of my ex-husband for so many years. Now after all those battles with life and myself I feel I have never been more independent like now. I’m able to fill my own tasks. And need no one to hold my hand. In past half year especially I have changed a lot, or maybe I should say - grown a lot. I am more selfish. And I will not drag anyone with me, nor shall i hitchhike on someone’s else’s back. I am what I am today. And tally with people and surroundings that make me feel home. That doesn’t mean one couldn’t obtain inspirations from other rooms. That is called healthy development, yes I just made up a new statement and agree with that thought of mine. I reflect and write about my own beliefs and views. I recognize and respect that people have different ways to create and cope. This right here is mine. 

--

Last night I saw a vivid dream that I saved the world. In this real life here, one should start with oneself. 

This time it started with 3 x 3 days. And have ever since multiplied. We’ll go up and down, and up and down. And heed every moment.