#i kind of want to but the characters' fake accents are painful to listen too

[saturnniidae]

Just remembered that the monster high movie where they were in monster france and everyone had horrible fake french accents and some evil fashion designer lady essentially esnlanved a teenage boy that was her apprentice like she had him locked in her basement designing clothes for her day in day out then she also tried to kidnap clawdeen to make her do the same, that movie apparently wasn't a really weird dream and actually exists

[manuscripts-dontburn]

The Morning Gift

Author: Eva Ibbotson

First published: 1993

Rating:  ★★★★☆

I adored this story! A romance born on the eve of WW2, that holds the foreboding but still shows you that people still lived their lives and had their hopes. I was happy to note that for once the main female character of Ibbotson´s is not a sheer perfection (this girl has actually some issues to go through), though I admit I could still do without the comically evil rival (it would have been so much more interesting if there actually at least appeared a possibility the other girl might succeed). But all in all, especially because of the last third of the book, I thought this was a well-crafted romance with some, perhaps cheesy, but well-used tropes. Just, for the love of god, DO NOT listen to this as an audiobook recorded by Kate Lock, who insisted on using a fake German accent and squeaky voice for the main character, making her sound like a stupid child of 10. (And that is not the only horrible thing she does to the selected characters).

Jane, the Fox & Me

Author: Fanny Britt

First published: 2012

Rating: ★★★★☆

A beautifully executed graphic novel in which the story somewhat fizzles out and feels unfinished, definitely could have been longer and yet I rate it quite high simply because it hit me like a train. I was not a fat kid but all my life I felt I was, even if in my case there was no bullying. I felt this little girl´s pain deeply.

The Witches: Salem, 1692

Author: Stacy Schiff

First published: 2015

Rating: ★★★☆☆

I think Stacy Schiff is an excellent historian and has an extremely readable style of writing. I also think she has done a stupendous job putting this mammoth project together, but I need to agree with those who complain about the density and slowness of the text. It is next to impossible to keep track of the names and the accusations/descriptions of the alleged witchcraft are so similar (or completely the same) that it is very taxing to keep up. I am not sure whether I should be complaining though, because, after all, I DID want a book about these events and I got it. I would recommend an audiobook though, makes it easier to get through.

The Clockmaker's Daughter

Author: Kate Morton

First published: 2018

Rating: ★★★★☆

This is a story of a house and people connected to it in an intriguing web of connections. It spans from the 1860s to the modern day, not always in chronological order, and I must say that Kate Morton managed to jump through the timelines quite effortlessly. There is a great number of characters but I had no problems following who was who, though admittedly some of the timelines were less interesting than the others (notably and predictably for me I enjoyed the modern one the least). I also had trouble when some things, already revealed to the reader, were "revealed" again. The main voice is that of a ghost (trust me, this is not a spoiler), and while I did not mind it, I also believe the book would have been stronger had that been completely committed and we only got to know that particular character from the other stories it touches. Even after all that I have to say I was surprised at how easy this was to read (it IS a chunker) and how much I enjoyed it.

A Face Like Glass

Author: Frances Hardinge

First published: 2012

Rating: ★★★☆☆

I adore the fact that Frances Hardinge does not talk down to children, because this is undeniably a middle-grade book, but does not shy from some pretty heavy stuff. However perhaps I have read too much Frances Hardinge at this point because I tend to really like/be intrigued by the start of her books, her world-building and her unique ideas, but then it all became too much with this one and I was impatient for the story to be over.

Brigid of Kildare

Author: Heather Terrell

First published: 2009

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

I am sad to report that this book was kind of a mess. The historical bits would have been just fine on their own, even if I had wanted a little more depth, many a time I felt like we were merely dipping our toes into the fascinating story of Brigid. But then the author decided to weave in a "mystery" set in modern times and those chapters, apart from being unnecessary to the story, felt just tedious to the point I was considering skipping them altogether. A bummer.

When Women Were Dragons

Author: Kelly Barnhill

First published: 2022

Rating: ★★★☆☆

As long as it was a family tragedy infused with the elusive and unexplained, I was enjoying this book quite a lot. But then, in its second half, it becomes too wordy, too idealistic, too uninteresting.

The Silent Unseen

Author: Amanda McCrina

First published: 2022

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

The good thing: the topic, even if you have read loads of WW2 books, is an unusual one. The bad thing: the story is extremely weak (walking and talking do not an intriguing narrative make), the characters shallow, the motivations extremely basic, the romance needless and not particularly well done. No matter how many betrayals posing as shocking twists you cram into the last third, you cannot make me invested in this.

Charlotte's Web

Author: E.B.White

First published: 1952

Rating: ★★★★☆

As a non-UK and non-US child, I have never read this book when I was its target audience. I picked it up now more for the super cute edition than anything else. And indeed throughout I kept thinking: sure, it´s cute. But is it that great? And then I got kicked in the guts by that friggin ending.

Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands

Author: Heather Fawcett

First published: 2024

Rating: ★★★★★

Just as enjoyable and delightful as the first volume! I love the tone, the language, and the romance (I am SHIPPING Emily and Wendell so hard), it can be both touching and humorous at the same time. Cannot wait for the conclusion of this series which so far I find to be one of the most joyous literary events in years.

The Great Mortality: An Intimate History of the Black Death, the Most Devastating Plague of All Time

Author: John Kelly

First published: 2005

Rating: ★★★★☆

The Black Death epidemic of the 14th century remains one of the most gruesomely fascinating events in European history and I dare say this book is a very accessible, informative and well-organized study of it. It is strictly chronological, leading you in the steps of the disease, and adding stories and explanations that make it all less clinical and more humanly tragic. Just perhaps the ending sounds way too much like "but in the end it was a good thing" felt like a very, very weird conclusion.

Psyche and Eros

Author: Luna McNamara

First published: 2023

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

I finished this book out of spite more than anything else. The myth of Psyche and Reos may just be my favourite of all the Greek myths, unfortunately instead of crafting it into something fresh and memorable Luna McNamara tried her hand at mixing every Greek myth you have ever heard of and made Psyche insufferable during the process for good measure. It is not even subtle mixing, instead, she goes full Marvel Universe of Greek gods on you, twisting the story to incredible lengths just to cram more of the mythology into her book. I would also say that the original myth takes quite a beating in this reimagining, being stripped of much that made it so appealing to me as a reader. Sometimes less is more.

A Middle-Earth Traveller: Sketches from Bag End to Mordor

Author: John Howe

First published: 2018

Rating: ★★★★★

Beautifully executed "sketchbook". It would seem that while Alan Lee was more concerned with the Elven stuff, John Howe focused on Dwarves, Orcs and the more gritty parts we saw in the movies. There are, however, also illustrations from the Silmarillion included. I would imagine this is a perfect book to take with you outside, where you can sit under a tree and just leaf through, dreaming of Middle-Earth.

[valc0]

My two cents on Ncuti Gatwa as the 14th Doctor.

So, I slept on it and watched a couple scenes and another couple interviews and now I feel like I can comment on it.

I'm super excited to see what kind of energy these two will being to the Doctor. I'm so curious to know how RTD will deal with a Doctor without the trauma of the Time War. Ncuti has this very vibrant energy to him wich is still very much feral (like 13s) but totally unique ro him and I can see him work wonderfully in the part. I can't wait to see his Doctor!!! Yes i have fan designs in mind, don't worry, I'm gonna get to them soon sjnsjahsk

Also, hi, that man is beautiful?!? His eyebrows knock me out and he has the fucking kindest eyes. Having a crush on him right now.

Also, he's scottish, which I discovered after he said it and not after listening to him talk, because apparently I got better at accents but that's a lie and I can't make them apart for shit sksksksk.

For the ones asking, yes, I ship 14 with the Master...I litterally ship them in any form, I do not care. God, I hope Dhawan!M gets to meet 14 I will combust and then die.

Finally, I said this already but I deleted it, feeling like explaining myself beter.

For the ones worried the NMDs are gonna take this as a win and claim that "now the Doctor is good again" because the character is being played by a man... I'm afraid you are misinterpreting what these kind of people mean when they say "played by a man". They mean three things, two of which Ncuti is not, and I'm sure they'll keep on attacking the show, saying RTD got woke too, sharing blaring misinformation and fake news, calling it rumors for reputable sources, claiming Ncuti is too young, then too old, then a bad role model for the main audience which, according to these peoples mental age, is toddlers. They are gonna clutch their pearls screaming "what of the children!" trying to convince people they are saying those things for the sake of this good old family show.

It's the main reason why I wish the fandom was unite in our support for the casting, in giving this actor the praise and spotlight he deserves.

Listen, I don't even want to force anyone into keep watching the show if the fact the Doctor insn't played by a woman anymore upsets you, I understand, but please, please, please, don't buy into this bullshit rethoric, don't buy into racism and homophobia and bigotry for what you feel is the sake of representation but is not in these people's mind at all. It's so easy to fall into these traps, but it litterally brings nothing good, not to you, not to the show.

Sorry to end this post on such a bitter note, but I already saw too many of these takes and I'm worried it's only gonna get worse.

That said, I can't wait to see what the future holds...and the future will hold pain the moment I'll have to say goodbye to 13...*cries im the club at the sound of nickleback*

[junicai]

Relationship with NCT Dream

➣ MARK ☾ mari

½ of the best friend crew

honestly at the beginning, mark and aria weren’t very close, having only really seen each other in passing or with johnny

but after being dropped into training together the two quickly became fast friends, and now they’re borderline inseparable

you thought you knew pain? watch aria’s reaction to mark’s graduation from dream :)

mark’s the reason why aria felt confident enough to pitch some of her lyric ideas to the team, after staying up until 4am to help her make some edits so she was as confident as possible

kinda just, rests his head on her shoulder? and wraps his arms around her waist when he’s tired

mari being confused in foreigner: ???

aria said once in a vlive that she finds mark really comforting to be around - when she feels stressed or worried about something she’ll go to mark’s room and just sit on his bed for a while

aria is so close with his parents - “ahh, how’s my favourite child” “i’m doing great mom.” “no not you, how’s aria?” “wh-hu-MOM?”

you’d swear sometimes mark is younger than her, considering the pout he puts on and how much he whines when they’re not on the same team together for promotions

mark big protecc boi but also little small cuddly boi

they’re so soft for each other ( ╥ω╥ )

in one of the fancams for mark’s solo stage during superm, someone zoomed into aria singing along with him in the wings and dancing to herself with the Proudest Smile™

he’s! so! proud! of! her! constantly! she could be walking and he’d be like “omg get it”

when aria refuses to get up and make herself food (this happens way too often, she just gets into the groove of her work and doesn’t want to move) mark gets her to by threatening to do it himself

consistently caught by czennies just standing behind her and holding her hand in crowded areas - airports, waiting rooms, etc.

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

mark and aria were standing off to one side as the mc explained the rules of the game they were about to be playing. mark looked totally confused, and elbowed aria in her side before looking down and mouthing “what?” to her. aria opened her mouth, before closing it and looking down at the ground, muttering to herself, “결합… 結合….. le chéile…. le… le.. oh oh - combined! we have to put them together, markie.”and thus, a new confusion meme was born

➣ RENJUN ☾ renjaria

renjun and aria room together while she’s promoting with dream

they were so awkward around each other at the beginning :(

only really spoke in passing, or when they had to

it was renjun that broke the ice at first, asking if she wanted to go shopping for the dorm together

now it’s their thing

“no aria, we can’t get more ice-cream we’re all supposed to be on diets.” “but  ｡ﾟ･ (>﹏<) ･ﾟ｡ please”

he’s lowkey soft for her but he’d rather throw himself off the roof then tell her that

piano pals

he started teaching her how to properly play once he found her messing around on a keyboard in the studio one day

they actually argue quite a bit

not about big things, but about smaller things that push each other over the edge because of stress

the first time he yelled at her, aria spent the night in hyuck’s room 

hyuck yelled at renjun for making her cry 

now they’re probably the best pairing for talking through their emotions instead of blowing up on each other

they’re both quite opinionated people, and they’ve learnt to navigate that well so fights don’t happen as often

does that stop renjun from teasing aria an within an inch of her life? absolutely not

“i’ll kill you” “can you, reach?” “LISTEN HERE-”

he acts like he’s 10ft tall, excuse you sir you are barely 5′6″

renjun was her mandarin teacher for a while, but then kun kindly told her that her “introduction” was actually calling herself an idiot 

aria has a bad problem with saesangs go away bitches and renjun is iconic for going off on them for her because she doesn’t like to make a big deal out of it all 

he gets so angry on her behalf

that was actually a topic of one of their biggest arguments smh

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

aria was leaning on a pile of books to prop herself up as she leant forwards to try and hang a string of lights on her bedroom wall. renjun walked in, and immediately came to her aid, speaking with a teasing tone. “need a hand?” 

aria, without ceremony just elbowed him in the stomach and used his then folded up figure to push herself up higher. “yes, thank you!”

she got hate for that one, but it was all in good fun and renjun was laughing after it

➣ JENO ☾ nori

aria is his princess and everyone else can fight him

like they’re both doyoung’s children, but if it comes down to it he will lay down his life for her

and not even in a romantic way, just a “you’re too precious i have to protect you” kind of way

czennies thought he was in love with her for the entirety of nct 2018 promotions

this boy was hanging off of her at any given second, and there was an edited video of jeno “glaring” at lucas’ back when the taller boy walked away after hugging aria

it was faked, stan twt needs to chill out

he drags her to the gym 

he’s basically her big brother? but they’re the same age - its a weird dynamic but they make it work

they’re so LOUD together

not chaotic, but he makes her laugh so hard 

vlive 191030: “nono-ah makes my cheeks hurt so i can’t spend too long around him. my sides hurt too ~  ♡(｡- ω -)”

any and all fanfictions written about the two are definitely either coffee shop, university or library AUs

this man walks like a bodyguard around her - boy got the arm over the shoulder, tucked her head into him, covering her face, its a whole ordeal

dispatch released some pictures of aria one day and accidentally blurred out jeno’s face because they thought he was her bodyguard 

is so. so mindful of how long aria spends in the training rooms

like, yes everyone else expects her home before midnight (long story)

but jeno actively makes sure to ask people what time she left the dorm at, and texts her to remind her to take water breaks and to come home at a good time so she can sleep 

these two are the creators of so many iconic vlives - they have a bad habit of going live at 1 or 2 in the morning, just doing random things

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

“hi hi! so, nono and i- jeno stop it, stop it! - nono and i are walking down to the park to go feed the birds - yes we’re going to feed the bird- no! we are not going to feed the ducks, bread can kill the ducks! why did you bring brea-”

jeno pulled the camera from aria’s hands. “ari and i,” he looked at her purposefully, “are going back to the dorms because someone forgot to bring the bird seed, and apparently we can’t give bread to ducks anymore.”

*sounds of aria intermittently hitting and scolding jeno ensue*

➣ DONGHYUCK ☾ arichan

the other half of the best friend crew

absolute heathens to be around when they are together

donghyuck is the person aria is closest to, and someone she’d call her best friend (only when she was sure he wouldn’t hear her)

she calls him “the demon child i can’t get rid of” but will, and has definitely pouted when he ignored her for too long

generally aria is a pretty soft spoken person, but not with hyuck around - he brings out all her chaos energy (please pray for the patience of dotae)

the pair have a little tradition of kissing the back of each others’ hands before going on stage for good luck. they can’t even remember how it started, but now its an unnegotiable pre-show ritual

he’s so clingy with her absolutely everywhere its painfully adorable  (ಥ﹏ಥ)

interviews? hyuck has a hand on her knee, or if she’s wearing a skirt he’s tucked his hand in between their chairs so she can hold it discreetly. in the dorms? full body tackle onto the couch, where he proceeds to lay on top of her completely.

because of hyuck’s nickname being the sun, and aria always being around him, czennies gave her the nickname “moon” to go with him

fans thought that aria was older than hyuck for a good year and a half before she released her birthday on a vlive, because she’s normally the one tasked with reigning his chaotic energy in during promotions (that is, if she hasn’t already joined him)

but off-camera, aria is absolutely hyuck’s baby there is no disputing that. aria’s sad?he’s there with ice-cream and a blanket and a baseball bat.

the winnie the pooh character that is on aria’s bed was a gift from hyuck for her 17th birthday, after she made him watch seven episodes of the show on netflix with her one night

yes he complained, but he slapped her hand away when she went to change it to something else

a twitter thread of a czennie comparing their horoscopes together went viral when people realized that it was quite plausible that the pair were each others (platonic) soulmates

after an incident involving blueberries, donghyuck took it upon himself to check the ingredients of every. single. food item in their dorm to make sure it was ok for her to eat

hyuck clowns her for her irish accent, and aria curses him out in japanese

tldr: they cute or whatever

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

donghyuck was doing a vlive in his bedroom, sitting and talking to czennies when aria opened the door to his room quietly. she didn’t say anything, just waved slightly with almost closed eyes before she crawled underneath his covers and tucked her plushie underneath her chin. hyuck didn’t even blink at it - so it must have been a regular occurrence.

➣ JAEMIN ☾ nari

jaemin highkey flusters her

not in a oo you’re so cute, cute boy make nerves go eeee

but he’ll wink at her and teasingly compliment her and now she looks like a firetruck this isn’t fair

he absolutely takes advantage of this where ever possible 

“riri, can i have some?” “no, i just made these you should have helped me (-_-)” “riri~ but you looked so cute making them i didn’t want to interrupt you~” *aria.exe has stopped responding*

but when aria isn’t trying to get her cheeks to stop being red, they’re really cute together 

you’d swear aria is older, by how much jaemin whines for her attention

the mighty battles between jaemin and hyuck

hyuck’s just biding his time for the rooftop fight

kinda panics around her when she’s crying, but is always the first to offer up a hug 

has a period tracker on his phone but no one knows about it 

he doesn’t like to coddle her because they’re so close in age, but that doesn’t stop him from getting protective in certain situations *cough cough the fansign cough cough*

jaemin and aria cuddling when they’re drunk? more likely than you’d think

he definitely professed his undying love for her at one point while being drunk, and chenle caught it on video 

“noona we’re playing that at your wedding” 

designated blanket/pillow hunter at award shows, and if he can’t find one then he usually just gives her his jacket

the amount of coffee these two consume should be illegal 

aria prefers to call him nana and he prefers to call her riri in the dorms, so when either of them get called by their first name by the other it means A: they’re on a schedule, or B: someone’s about to die

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

nct dream on idol room were trying out jaemin’s death-in-a-cup (his coffee) and as the cup got passed around, aria grew more and more concerned with each face the members made. “jaemin if i die from this-”

he only smiled at her while passing over the cup. aria held it up to look at the black liquid skeptically, before sighing in resignation and bringing the cup to her lips to take a sip. 

and then another.

“wait this is good i like this”

➣ CHENLE ☾ leri

hide yo kids and hide yo wives because leri is entering the chat

*cue aria and chenle wearing 2000s rapper clothes with backwards baseball caps*

these two are so chaotically calm

its like the energy cancels out or something 

aria with hyuck is just so loud and obnoxious, and the same with chenle with jisung

so when you put those two together it just turns into le positive vibes

you ever meditated to those 132 hertz sounds? thats them in a sound 

aria will hold him like a baby kitten she’s expecting to try wriggle out of her grip at any moment and its comical because he’s a good head taller than her

aria definitely has a knack for making her groupmates’ parents fall in love with her

every two weeks or so she goes for dinner in chenle’s house upon his mother’s request

they have a mutual understanding of the mental toll it takes to be around the rest of the dreamies constantly

chenle and aria sitting peacefully, watching a cdrama: 

the dreamies, throttling each other: AAAAAAAAAAA

will never admit it but he misses her the most when she goes away to promote

he thinks of her as a big sister and the dorms feel empty without her there

aggressive proud hugs 

so aggressive, he legit tackles her

he had to tone it down after knocking her over once backstage and she narrowly missed clocking herself on a nearby soundboard 

“YAH ZHONG CHENLE YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL!”

he always gets a little bit anxious when they eat things outside of the dorms because he’s never seen her have an allergic reaction before and he’d like to keep it that way  (`皿´＃)

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

chenle was particularly restless that day, constantly shuffling about in his seat to the point where renjun forcefully tossed an arm over his shoulders to hold him still while the vlive was still playing.

not one to be defeated, chenle then turned to press his lips to renjun’s cheek playfully, laughing when the older boy turned away in disgust. he turned to do the same to aria, coming closer to her cheek before aria turned her head to face his.

“AAA-” “EW CHENLE WHY”

➣ JISUNG ☾ jiri

oh god oh god oh god

if aria could take this boy and wrap him in a blanket and keep him in her pocket she would - no questions asked 

jisung knows she loves him the most out of dream sorry markhyuck and takes advantage of it every second

she used to coddle him a lot when he was smaller, but now that he’s older aria tries to rein it in as much as possible

that doesn’t mean it goes away completely though

“noona can you cook for me?” “of course jisungie! what do you want?” 

*jeno gobsmacked in the background* “you just told me you were too tired to cook tonight”

aria: big baby, must protect

jisung: tiny noona, must protect

jaemin and aria are really the only people jisung is ok with seeing him be super emotional - and he flip flops between the two depending on the reason why he’s emotional

self-esteem, feeling poopy side of it all? straight into aria’s bed, letting her roll him onto his side so she can tuck his head into her shoulder and covers the two of them with her duvet the way she used to do when he was shorter

this boy cannot curse around her unless he wants to get his ass Beat

dancing bros

they go so hard in their NCT Dance duet videos 

he keeps band-aids in his bag for her in exchange for her keeping an extra bottle of water in hers because jisung always forgets his own

jisung rests his elbow on her head a lot

but only briefly because the last time he stayed there for too long she stamped on his foot

tldr: aria is jisung’s emotional support gnome

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

jisung and aria were doing the chicken leg battle (this one) to fight for first dibs on the rooms they were going to be sharing for the next week or so. just before they were about to start, mark started laughing and pointing at how high jisung’s leg came up on aria’s, with aria’s knee barely hitting jisung’s mid-thigh

“this is an unfair advantage! this is cheating!”

[kattwritesuwu]

Can I request a Clingy!monsterTom x Depressed!Reader? Maybe with cutting and suicidal thoughts?

I sure can!!! I LOVE angst!!!!!

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

Fandom: Eddsworld

Character: Tom

Reader: Depressed

Fic type: Comfort/angst

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: This WILL heavily mention suic/de, blood, and perhaps other triggering topics, read at your own risk!!

Notes: People, I'm not trying to make depression and similar illness romantic, this is simply for comfort.

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

I hate everything.

Well, not everything, but the majority, y'know? Everything just...sucks. Life in general, it's all terrible.

People are terrible. Sure, I've found a few choice people that aren't the bane of my existence, but even they have their flaws.

Am I saying that I'm some heaven sent angel? Hell no I'm not. I'm just as terrible if not more! I hate everyone, including myself.

Am I lying? Yeah. Do I have a crush on someone? Yeah. Am I gonna do something about it? Nope.

Why should I? It's not like I'll be here longer anyways...

I'm planning to kill myself.

Am I scared? Kind of. But at this point I don't care. I'm always scared anyways. Always on my guard around people.

Most people don't know the fear and pain of constantly feeling...numb.

It's not like I never feel anything, it's just so rare. My most common emotion is pain. I just want to curl up in a ball and die. But all I can ever being myself to do is cry, and even that's a rare occurrence at this point.

I feel so alone.

Friends? Yeah I have a few.... they're all a bit odd in their own way. Can't complain though, they're like family to me.

My real family? Not many immediate ones, plus, I moved to England five years ago. They called me everyday for the first couple of months. Nowadays, I can barely get a text back... I get that they have their own lives in their respective country, but man, it just makes me so cold-feeling...

I guess where I was going with this, is that I'm scared. Not of my inevitable death, but everything else.

I'm scared of anything and everything now that I think about it. I don't exactly mean common fears they talk about in elementary school, I'm talking real world problems.

I'm scared of failure, not sure why. I've failed enough in my life....it shouldn't even faze me at this point.

Im especially scared of people.

My friends? Yeah them too. What if I make a fool of myself and they think I'm an idiot? What if I make the wrong move, and they hate me? They probably hate me enough as it is...

That why I won't confess to Tom. He'll hate me afterwards. There's just no point in ruining something for nothing in return.

These were the thoughts that ran through my head as my arms and legs were sliced up by a blade driven by my own hands. It's wasn't like it hurt. All it really did was sting, I'm just that used to being hurt, I suppose.

As I was wrapping up my little 'session' I heard a knock on my door,

"(Y/N)! You in there? It's dinner time! I made breakfast for dinner!" A British accent leaked through my door.

I didn't scramble around at the thought of him walking in, my door was locked after all. It's not like I'm that stupid.

" I'll be there in a few minutes, Edd." I spoke back in a raspy voice, not bothering to yell. Edd has good ears, he can somehow hear a whisper from across the house.

It takes me a minute or two to get up and walk into the bathroom that connects to my room. I stumble a bit with the loss of blood.

Once I get in there I take a quick shower, just barely long enough to stop the bleeding and make it appear as if you just took an actual shower.

Once I get out of the shower, I slip on my (favorite color) hoodie.

That was an easy part of hiding my self abuse. Everyone in the house wore a hoodie of their own designated color.

I also slipped on a longer article of clothing to go onto my legs. Couldn't let them see my thighs either.

Once I finished the rest of my cleaning up, I headed out of my little bathroom, and in front of my door. I took a deep breath, put on a smile, and walked out.

I got about halfway down the stairs before a screech startled me, causing me to trip a bit,

" (Y/N) IS HERE! YAY!" The high pitch British scream could only belong to the narcissistic ginger known as Matt.

Once I got my balance back into my feet, I continued down the stairs and greeted Matt with a wave.

" Yeah she lives here, idiot. She's not going anywhere." A deeper voice had spoken, I turned around and Tom was there as expected. I smile shrunk a bit at his last comment.

" Sup (y/n)." You snapped out of your thoughts and responded with a casual 'yo.'

The three of us then heard a thick accent cursing in the kitchen, no doubt it was Tord,

" For jævla skyld! Just let me have the last piece!!"

Sure enough, when we walked into the kitchen, Edd and Tord were fighting over the last piece of bacon. I let out a sigh, and the two boys finally acknowledged our existence. That alone didn't stop their argument though.

I didn't even bother attempting to break up the fight, I never could anyways. Their little fuss always ends one of two ways. Edd steals the bacon from under Tord's nose, or vise versa.

I just grabbed a small portion of food, and sat down.

I knew I would be gone by the end of tonight...but I wanted to taste Edd's cooking one last time.

Something interesting happened, instead of one of the two boys getting the bacon, they halved it and sat down. Of all my four years living in this house with these people, they've never shared their bacon.

Strange.

Dinner wasn't as talkative as it usually was when we all ate at the table. Usually we'd all have a big group discussion about our day, or week. Tonight was quiet, giving me an opportunity,

" Hey, guys?" Each one of their heads turned to me, and Edd signalled me to continue,

" I just wanted to say, thank you." Their brows furrowed but I held out a hand to tell them to let me finish,

" You four have helped me with so much over the past few years. From when you let me live here when I couldn't find proper housing situations, to letting me borrow the car. I just wanted to formally tell you all how grateful I really am. You are truly the kindest people I've ever met." As I went on talking, I realized how bad of an idea this actually was.

I mean, will they get suspicious? I'm just showing gratitude right? It shouldn't sound like a cry for help or anything...

As I snapped out of thought for the fiftieth time today, I notice that all of the boys have some type of smile on their face, even Tom!

Edd was smiling like a proud mother,

Matt was smiling giddily,

Tord had a smug, 'cool guy' smile,

And Tom had the smallest smile that made my heart melt.

I awkwardly continued my fake smile, and sat down.

Conversation continued on as would on a normal night, with the topic being past pleasant memories.

I volunteered to wash the dishes, it was the least I could do. There was only one problem. For some ungodly reason, Tom had insisted on helping me.

I couldn't figure out why at first, untill it dawned on me that he probably needed something from me.

So as I scrubbed the forgetten food off of the ceramic plate, he rinsed and dried them. We did this in silence, aside from the running water. Tom's the first one to break the tension filled silence,

" So, how have you been?" It was such a simple question, I could have simply faked a toothy grin, and said that I was great. I could have thanked him for asking. I could have asked him back.

But I only did one of those things.

" I've been doing just as good as I always do." I reply with a small sad smile. I tear my eyes away from the dish water," How about you? You've been awfully quiet tonight."

He chuckles lowly," Just had a lot on my mind, trying to face some of my problems, that's all." I stop what I'm doing and look over at him,

" Do you want to talk about it? I think the others are asleep already."

Normally when Tom is having any type of problem, he comes to me for advice, or even just for someone to listen to him rant when he's drunk. I even gave him a spare key to my room if he ever needs me while I'm asleep. He's offered the same for me, but I told him that I have a counselor. I try not to lie to my housemates all the time, only when necessary.

He simply shakes his head in response," Nah, this is one I have to deal with on my own," I sigh,

" Alright then, but keep my offer in mind. Just try to remember to see me before I go to bed, I'm...going to bed early tonight. I have something to do tommorow." He nods in understanding.

After we finish the dishes, we say our goodnights,

" I'll see you in the morning, (y/n)." I give one last fake smile,

" Same to you, Tom. Sleep well." I see him nod and walk down the hall as I close my door and lock it for the final time.

I walk into my bathroom and look into the mirror. All I see is a monstrosity of a person glaring back at me.

The bags under my eyes had only gotten worse after the sleepless nights I spent writing my suicide note.

I decided to skip reading over it one last time, I want nothing that could alter my decision at hand here. If I read my dying love letter that's written to Tom, I might stop myself in some kind of silly hope that everything could be okay again. It was too late for all that now.

So, I grabbed my blade that had served me well over the years, and stepped into the bathtub. I didn't cry, I didn't shake in fear of what I was about to do. I sadly smiled instead. As I took my hoodie off, revealing a tank top that no one knew I owned. I set my hoodie softly onto the floor, and turned on the hot water.

I took a deep breath in, and sigh, grabbing my blade and getting to work on my first artery. It took me a couple tries to find it.

But once I did, it started the red tint in the once clear bath water. I took in a shaky breath, adjusting to the dizziness of loosing so much blood so quickly.

At this point I couldn't even hear the bathwater running, everything was muffled.

I reached to turn it off, and a hand was placed onto mine. It takes me a good second to register that there was someone next to the tub, yelling my name right next to my face.

I try my best to focus on who could have caught me. Yet it's so difficult to take in my surroundings at this point.

So as I stare at the person beside my bathtub with fading eyes. I feel pressure on my wound, and see something being wrapped around it.

I start panicking, trying to say no, to let me die.

But I just can't. I just watch as my life is saved against my will.

Suddenly I can see that I'm moving, I can't figure out how until I notice the arms carrying me bridal style to a soft surface. That's when I lost consciousness for the next hour.

I didn't exactly 'wake up' more like fazed into existence. It's like I just gradually became aware of what was around me.

I became aware of the sobs coming from my bedside, and of the pressure squeezing my hand.

I forced my eyes open and tried to sit up. Yet I instantly regretted my decision, pain shot throughout my body. I glance over to my hand and up the....purple arm....

Who is this? Or perhaps I should say, what is this?

It's some kind of...monster? Hybrid? It looked kind of human... I could only see the torso and up. Even then, the arms grew bigger the farther down the arms stretched, and turned a deeper and deeper shade of purple. Horns poked out of the head laying slightly onto my shin, poking me a bit.

" Am-" I hold my throat. That hurt. I clear my throat of the mucus and start again as the unknown monster wakes up,

" Am I dead?"

The monsters head shoots up, and I can't help but recognize the 'eyes' that I've grown to love.

" T-Tom..."

He tries to smile for me, but it twists into a sad frown as his black orbs start to water,

" (Y/n)....(y/n) you're...y-you're okay! You're okay..." He said this over and over again as he cupped my cheeks with his transformed hands.

I grab onto his forearm to steady his shaking. This was starting to scare me.

I had never seen this man shed a tear in front of me, yet alone bawl into my shoulder like he was doing now,

" Tom, it's okay, I'm right here." I whispered this, and many other reassurances into his ear. Confirming to him that it was going to be okay and that, to my displeasure, I wasn't going anywhere.

He seemed to get angry after a few minutes, he ripped himself away from me and took hold of my shoulders,

" WHAT IF YOU WEREN'T RIGHT HERE? WHAT IF I HADN'T OF WALKED IN!! WHAT THEN HUH? YOU WOULDN'T BE RIGHT HERE!!! YOU'D BE GONE!! I would have...lost you..." He slid down the side of my bed as he finished his outburst. He sat crying into his knees.

I didn't know what to do. Is he mad at me? But despite the questions, I acted without thinking.

I began to run my fingers through his hair, almost brushing it. He seemed surprised at first, before he leaned into my touch.

" I'm sorry Tom. I didn't think it would effect you like this..." All was silent for a few moments. Until,

" Why..?" He sniffled a few times before I could respond.

" Why? Why what?" He looked up to me,

" Why would you try to leave me?" I couldn't even bring myself to say anything after that. Tom seemed to sense the frog in my throat, and continued,

" You don't realize, (y/n). You don't realize how special you are. To your family, your friends. I mean bloody hell (y/n)! What about us?! Edd would be heartbroken! And how are we supposed to explain something like that to Matt?" I avoided the possible eye contact and twidled my thumbs in my lap,

" What about me (y/n)? How am I supposed to go on living with myself if you, the love of my life, killed herself?" My mind went blank. He took my hand in between both of his,

" I know this isn't the greatest time for this, but if it'll boost your self esteem even a little bit, I don't care about embarrassing myself. (Y/n) (L/n), I am deeply in love with you, and have been since you moved in. I've loved you since you helped me to bed when I came in drunk all those years ago. I've loved you since you beat my Pac-Man score at the arcade, I acted so mad, but you were just so cute so excited like that... (Y/n)... Please let me help you love yourself by loving you..."

By the time he was done with his speech, I was in tears, a small frown on my face. He seemed to get the wrong idea as he instantly dropped my hand and got up,

" I got the message, I'll just uhm... I'll just g-" I grabbed his hoodie strings and pulled him in for a kiss.

We could both tell that there would be many more to come.

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

I'm sorry if it's extremely long, I just love to write angst haha...

[jaefluenza]

A Roadtrip with a Stranger | J.jh

one important rule: do not fall in love 🍑

🔅 4,831k words

🔅 fluff, overseas student!characters and more fluff!!!

🔅 youtuber!jung jaehyun x reader

🔅 warning: i didn’t proofread this :(

Hey! It’s been so long since I write on this platform. I hope you guys still like my work cause I’ve been working hard to get the desire to write again. Things has been rough for me mentally that makes me kinda lost the feeling of writing. But I decide to write again, yay! Oh and this work was inspired by an admirable travel vlog by Valspire Family where he went on a roadtrip with a stranger. I’ll put the link to the video at the very end of this work. Hope you like it, and I’m sorry that it’s not gender-neutral but you can use your own imagine from this one i guess :) love y’all.

Jaehyun swam through his e-mails. Okay, no more AdSense pouring in... He wondered. It seems like he needs to create a new content. So, Jung Jaehyun right here is a travel youtuber, where he often travels from place to place, all by himself. He loves traveling. He did it even before he discovered a whole new thing called YouTube. Yeah, that time, he travels by the help of his parents. As an abroad student, he relied a lot on his parents back in their hometown. So he saved some money to travel from close places to places before he eventually wanted to travel overseas as well. Jaehyun learned that he can’t keep using his pocket money to travel forever, he needs to look for a better way.

So when his friends told him to start a YouTube channel, he didn’t even hesitate. As luck sides with him, he started to look through his old memory card where he put all of his videos and photos of his traveling journey. He was so glad that he kept all of them, even though he would reminisce on how he almost drop his camera on a cliff while doing a cheap vlog. Jaehyun uploaded the videos that he edited at 2 am, after doing the assignment he got from college. Such a model student, indeed... And guess what? People love him! His first video got 10,000 views and 167 comments about how he captured the moment beautifully. He even gained 450 new subscribers on his first day of being YouTuber.

Now, after two months of uploading his old local travel videos, he gained more than 23,000 subscribers and thousands and thousands of views, he finally gained independent money from all the ad-sense he received from his videos. So, he’s ready for a new level of adventure, of course, on his own. “Where would I go....?”

He dives through the mailbox again as he only looks randomly at the screen, and suddenly a notification pops up to his surprise. “Y/n (surname)?” He clicked the new e-mail right away, unbothered to look at the subject line first.

“Hey, do you want to go on a roadtrip with me, I guess? this my number, 0xxxxxxxxx text me 🤙”

“Holy shi-” Jaehyun almost cursed before he closes his mouth, shocked by the new thing he discovered on the Macbook screen. A stranger, asking him to go on a roadtrip? Wait, is this real? Well, it has been one of his goals to travel with a stranger, but when he actually goes through it, his head feels like falling into the floor.

He typed the number on the dial pad and add the new contact on his phone. He clicked the message app but before he’s even able to type what he’d want to say, his hand shakes in nervousness. I mean, this isn’t the first time he’s talking to a stranger. He has several moments where he needs to ask some other students he doesn’t know because he has to finish the group project given, but this one feels so different. The thought of going with someone you don’t know if it’s a he or she, spending time with them in the coldness of the night, holding hands with them when you reach the top of an abandoned tower, or holding on an urge to kiss them when it gets too warm in the car... Well, Jaehyun is now thinking so hard when he doesn’t need to. “Okay, okay, let’s get this done. Ask her what’s up and you’re done,” He reassured himself.

“Hey, it’s me Jaehyun. I saw your mail. What’s up?” Sent.

“Okay, okay. That’s good, you did it. Now let’s just eat some chips before they actually reply-” A familiar notification pops up and he can’t push his head away from his phone anymore.

“Omg hi! That was such a fast response! Thank you so much for texting me, I’m such a fan! Uh anyway, i’m (y/n). I want to know if you’re interested to go to the national flower festival with me which is happening in 10 days and if we’re heading there by a van it will be a 4 days travel and we still have 5 days to prepare and tour around the city.”

“Fantastic. Sure. So when do we meet tho?”

“Tomorrow, I guess?”

“Sure. See ya!”

“So, what makes you so excited today, Mr. Jung? I’ve never seen you this cheerful around college since the first day of your youtuber life.” Johnny chirped at the young man. “I’ll be meeting someone new today,” he replied. Johnny rubbed his ears together to listen more carefully simply because he doesn’t believe that his friend’s gonna meet, possibly a new girl?

“I don’t know, john. They could be a he or a she. They only sent me a mail.”

Later that evening, Jaehyun finds himself waiting in the restaurant where she told him to meet up. He glanced at his watch as he waits patiently and he naturally feels like he’s going on a blind date. He holds himself not to order anything until the person’s arrived.

“Oh my god, it has been only 15 minutes but why do I start to feel like I’ve been scammed?” Almost a minute after he said that, a cheerful young lady walked towards his table and asked, “Jaehyun Jung, am I right?” Damn. This is real. “Uh yeah. Hi! Nice to finally meet you, (Y/n.)” He nervously reach out his hand for a shake and she gladly shakes his hand in return. 

“So, guess we now have to set some plan, do we?” Jaehyun said. Afterall, suggesting a plan making seems to be a meaningless idea because when the girl explained the route plan to the festival, he only got mesmerized, lost in her excited eyes. “Hey, are you listening?” Her gentle accent got him right back into his senses and he only laugh while scratching his nape awkwardly. “Woah, I can’t believe a famous travel youtuber like you aren’t that prepared for a kinda long roadtrip like this. Are you even experienced?” She teased him a smile.

“Hey, that’s mean,” he pouted. “I’m ready, more than ever, if you would know. But, well, this traveling with stranger thingy is kind of new to me so... bare with me, please?”

She smirked, “Hell yeah. It’s my first time, too.”

The two then decided to go buy the things they would need in the van. (Y/n) was the one to rent the van and it was decided when the two agreed that they can only afford an old small camper van fit for two people to sleep in the back seats. So they got almost everything such as blankets, sleeping bags, some little decorations to set the mood, and of course, some snacks and beverages. “I’m surprised that you hate redbulls.” Jaehyun teased the younger lady. 

“Dude, me being overly happy doesn’t mean that I drink redbulls... I only drink eight shots of coffee.”

“Damn, that makes sense, too,” he replied with a cheeky smile.

On the first day of a long drive through so many lonely highways, things weren’t going awkward, thank goodness. She comfortably talks to him like he’s an old friend, and he only replies with grins and smiles. It’s all good, until things got deeper as the sun emerges down the ground.

“Alright, let me set my other camera before we grab dinner.” Jaehyun shot up from his camping chair to the van after he set the campfire to warm them both. “Sure, indie boy.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“But you are.. an indie boy.”

“Okay, you won’t stop calling me that, huh?”

(Y/n) put her hand under her chin, looking blankly at the fire, reflecting so hard about how she actually starts to enjoy this trip, when she only meet him yesterday. “Hey, what makes you look so serious like that?” The man sat back on his chair after he successfully brought her back into her senses real quick. 

“Nuh-uh, do you really want me to think out loud?” “Oh, no thanks. Now I regret for worrying.” She chuckled lightly. 

“You know what, when I told you that I’m a fan of your channel, I really meant it. I’ve been a subscriber since you only have, uhm, from what I remember, 242 subscribers, I guess? And fun fact, I’m actually in the same major as you but you won’t notice me, anyway. I’m too quiet.” Jaehyun nearly drop his foldable cup when he heard that. “What? Seriously? You’re in the same college- no, same major as me? How could I- Oh don’t worry, I also am way too quiet for my own being. I don’t really make a lot of friends at college. No one really knows who I am if it’s not for my public channel.”

“I can see that you have such a nice personality. I always love how you expressed your hidden feelings through your vlogs. They’re beautiful.”

“Is that a way to say that I’m pretty?” He winked. “Oh come on, (Y/n). Just diss me like you’ve been doing for the past two days of us knowing each other better.” Again, she laughs.

“Do you know what’s the coolest thing ever in this trip?” She asked. “What is it?”

“It is how I made one significant rule in this trip, that is... to not fall in love with each other.” And somehow, Jaehyun lost his smile for awhile. “Oh, really? Well, it’s not quite hard,” he faked a smirk. “You’re mean.”

“Huh, actually, what makes you think that?” He asked sheepishly. He doesn’t want her to catch what’s happening, like how he actually doesn’t really agree with the ‘significant’ rule. “I don’t know. It’s just, my actual purpose of this trip was just to... you know, gain a friend. And that friend turns out to be you! And falling in love means you’re going to lose someone at the end and I hate to lose a friend I just gained from this trip.”

“Ah... that makes sense. But love doesn’t always goes into an end, Y/n.”

“It does,” she smiled with a visible hint of pain, and Jaehyun hates that. “I had the experience. I’m not trying to act like a sad bitch or something, but falling in love sucks. It means you’re ready for a freaking goodbye and farewell.”

He was going to say something but she cuts him up by getting off her chair, possibly ready to cook instant ramen for dinner. “Alright, my stomach’s grumbling. I’m boiling the water, and you, mister, help me open up the packs, please?” And when he looked at her pair of watery eyes, he decided not to say something and replied with a smile. “Yes, maam.”

The night gets colder and now both the youngsters are heading to bed– the back uncovered seats in the van. “So, this is where we’re going to sleep. As you can see, (Y/n) over here is alread inside her sleeping bag. This is going to be such a great sleepover, I guess?” He snickered. “Don’t lie, Jung. I’m gonna put a bug inside your bag tonight when you’re asleep.”

He turned the camera off and lay down beside her sleeping bag, dropping more blankets around him to cover his body better. “This is our first sleep, you know?”

“That’s true. We might wake up like dead.” She said something gibberish after that along with a yawn. “It’s getting hot in here.” She added. (Y/n) wriggled out of her sleeping bag to get more cool air but Jaehyun only looked at her with a weird look. “I’m curling my body into a ball like a caterpillar and you said it’s getting hotter? You’re unbelievable.”

“You clearly haven’t found yourself getting stuck in a snowstorm in Everest, have you?” “I am not that experienced yet. Have you either?” “Nah, I would die.” “Gosh.”

Jaehyun keeps his glances trained at the younger lady, wanting so much to feel the warmth of her body next to him, to warm him- or maybe each other. “Are you sure you’re not cold?” He asked. “Yeah, I’m getting comfortable- not really, actually. Urgh, what am I talking about...”

He chuckled. “Come here. There’s only both of us here, so practically, I am your heater. Besides, it kinda sucks that we cannot afford a van that has a cool heater inside. Uhm.. what I mean is.. do you want to cuddle?”

(Y/n) turned her body to face him. She actually shifted closer but Jaehyun caught the signs that she actually doesn’t want to show her consent. “Come here,” he said gently. “B-but, what about the rule?”

“Cutie, we cuddling doesn’t mean that we’re falling in love. We only need warmth.” Jaehyun put his arm around her without hesitance and she accepted his secure arms. She found herself getting sleepier than ever and now the screen in her sight went black. Jaehyun smiled at the peaceful sight, and he carressed her cheeks gently, not wanting to wake her up, as he says, “Now I’m actually glad that we get this non-heater van. I can become your warmth everytime.” That night, he slept with a smile plestered on his face.

The sun rises on sight better than yesterday as it prisms over the medium-sized windows of the van and light starts to fill in the narrow space, replacing the coldness. She wakes up first, feeling the ray hits her face warmly. Oh my, it’s already morning...

As cliche as it looks like, when she wants to get up she could feel a pair of strong arms securing themselves around her body. Well, she’s not that stupid to not realize who’s the owner, the only guy she has been with over the past few days. She wanted to wriggle out of his arms, but her brain failed to command her body when the heart does what it wants. And it gets what it wants.

(Y/n) feels something different when she’s about two centimeters away from his face, and it surely feels so different when it comes to only seeing him through her iPad screen. But she doesn’t get it. Why is he... so gorgeous? She was about to stare longer but then he opens his eyes beautifully. “Why are you staring at me?” She flinched, not because she was shocked when he woke up, well actually that’s one of the reason, but, actually, because of his raspy morning voice. They sound kind of.. angelic.

“Wake up, let’s see the sunrise.” She finally wriggles out of his arms and goes to open the door. The cool breeze started to hit her lightly, almost makes her flying aesthetically, as she wished that she could wake up breathing this kind of air every morning. “Well, I didn’t know the sun could look this pretty, and we paid for nothing at all.” Jaehyun stood behind her while doing some stretches because his arms were stuck cuddling her last night, not something he could complain about, though.

“Get your camera out, bud. This will definitely get you hundred thousands of view, I’m sure.”

They ended up playing under the warming sun around the van, the camera only watching them. It feels like they are owning the world and she feels so wonderful. She feels so blessed, and it amazes her that she could have this happening with a complete stranger, a young man that starts to fill in her empty insides. She was reassured that impossible things could happen.

“So where are we heading now?” Jaehyun put the camera on the dashboard while he stole a glance at the driver besides him. “We’re passing a small city near here and we’re gonna walk around to see if there’s anything fun to visit.” (Y/n) was so glad that she’s the one driving, otherwise she wouldn’t have any other reason for not looking back at his eyes.

“Or maybe we can just rely on Google.” Jaehyun added. “Nah, that’s just not fun. We still have 14 hours of free times before we have to catch up to the festival.”

“So, yeap. I think we’re being super rebellious right now, slowing down our trip, or maybe (Y/n) right here loves to stay longer with me- Ouch!”

They drove past the yellowish trees and even though it’s in the middle of the day when the sun’s supposed to be up right above the van, the yellowish sky around them doesn’t support the cool breeze Jaehyun feels whenever he put his hand out of the window.

“Okay, I’m trying to wake myself up! Ready?” Jaehyun chuckled before he wobbles his head lightly, preparing himself to press the play button. The girl nodded excitedly, trying a little bit hard to not get so excited because she’s driving. Jaehyun pressed the button and the rock and roll song starts to fill in the car. She laughed at how he vibes so hard to the song, and honestly, she never had anything like this. Chilling past the long highway with yellow trees and the hidden sun makes the whole day so calming. She truly feels so blessed.

“Hey, look!” Jaehyun pointed at a petite tea shop across the street when they both walked around the small city to take a break. The little shop looks very nice with a cute vintage look interior which is visible from the outside. “Do you want to have some tea, like the british?”

“Nah, we should just take some pictures there. I’m going to go get redbulls.” “Seriously?”

After nearly four hours of driving, the both of them finally comes to the hours of the sunset. They pulled over and set the camera to the angle where they can get better view of them chilling under the sunset, or maybe just playing around the van like they did in the morning.

“You know what, I think it’s gonna be pretty cool if we climbed on top of the car and pose to get some footages?” Jaehyun suggested. “Are you crazy? We can’t scratch the car, otherwise we will get charged,” she argued.

“Nah, who the hell cares? It’s not like they will bother themselves by checking all over the car. Come on, I’m gonna go first.” Jaehyun climbed through the back of the van and she only laughed as a response. Sometimes, he’s unbearable.

“Okay, you should climb up now.” Jaehyun reached out both of his hands to help her get to the top of the van, and when she did, she didn’t regret doing his suggestions at all cause, the view is so goddamn pretty. “Woah,” she murmured. They both sat down and try to enjoy the view despite the less time that they have right now.

“What made you want to go on a roadtrip with a stranger?” Jaehyun asked. “Um, I’ve taken a semester off this year, and I don’t really have any friends at the moment to spend time with, so... decided I could go out and gain some randomly.” She chuckled bitterly. “I wanted to do something fun. I wanted to go on a roadtrip, but that’s not very fun alone. So I was like, who is the most spontaneous person I can think of... and so I asked you.”

Jaehyun laughed with his whole heart. “It’s really crazy.” His dimples are showing through and she swears, they are driving her crazy. “And you followed through!”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” “I know!”

Jaehyun encouraged himself to look at her, this time with deeply moved eyes, and he now realizes that he really admires her young and free figure. “So, are we friends now?” She asked.

When she turned at him, there she goes, with those pair of eyes, looking through his eyes in return. Jaehyun flinched, shocked by how mesmerized he is by her every movement. Like how her hair moves along with the evening breeze, and how her eyelids stutter beautifully, also how her lips turned into a little smile when she opened her mouth. And he smiled back, “Yes, we are.”

Three days have passed and now they are gonna arrive at the city which is the final destination where the national flower festival will be held, how amazing is that. They visited random cities while taking a break, grabbing lunch at a motel in the middle of nowhere, and stopping by at midnight just to lay down on the empty big road to see the stars. 

As strangers, both of them have been going through a lot of things together, only in a few days. Though the ‘significant’ rule was not so forgotten throughout the trip, they can’t help but feel flattered by each other. The young man, who has been broken inside, admitted deeply inside that she had never experienced anything like what she has been doing with the complete stranger, and neither does the young man. 

Jaehyun knows that she is straight up serious about what she said. It was that one significant rule that keeps him held back, to not fall in love with each other. It kinds of frustrating him that he couldn’t touch her like his brain told him to. He respected her without a doubt, and breaking or hurting her would be the least thing he ever wanted during this trip.

The most ironic thing Jaehyun has ever think of is, how his main goal of this trip was to gain a friend. Now he doesn’t want to be just friends. He wishes for more than that. He fell in love with her.

“I can’t believe it! We’re almost there! I can’t wait to see all the beautiful flowers!” She holds the camera up to his face as he drives to the final destination in the city. “Do you really like flowers that much?” He asked.

“Yeah, they’re beautiful, calming, and entertaining. Whenever I pick one, I always got reminded that wherever you are and whatever you’re being, you can still look pretty and graceful. I mean, sometimes people step on some petite flowers on the street but that doesn’t mean they’ll look uglier and unworthy.”

“That’s true. I mean, look at you, still shining even though your surroundings are dark.” He instinctively moved his fingers to the side of her face, gently brushing her hair aside and she only stuttered nervously.

“Jaehyun,” she faintly murmured. “Okay okay, I know that you have made the one significant rule in this trip and I want you to know how much I respect you for that. I’m also very glad that I’m able to gain a friend like you but... during this trip,” he sighed. “I can’t help but think about you... more than I think I should do.”

She keeps her mouth close, not knowing how to respond to the sudden confession. It’s not like she didn’t expect this to happen, anyway. When it comes to the first time she saw him at the cafe, her insides turn upside down. However she kept it in her heart that she signed up for this not to look for a boyfriend or someone to sleep with, but a friend.

“What if I do the same too?” She replied with her consciousness. With that one sentence, Jaehyun steps on the brake so hard that their things in the back almost sprung themselves to the front and (Y/n) cursed. “What the heck, are you trying to get us dead?!”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly before pulling over in the middle of the long road. “Gosh, what did you say earlier?”

“I said, are you trying to get us dead?”

“No, the other one before that,” he pleaded.

“Huh? W-what if I do the same too?” She tilts her head.

“So you’re saying... that you like me too? No, that’s too soon. Are you thinking of me too?”

She can’t help but chuckle when she saw his eyes grew big with excitement and... a little bit of expectation. “Yeah,” she replied. There’s a long silence after that and doubt starts to grow inside her heart but then... “So, can I?”

“What-”

He immediately attached his lips to hers, heart pounding so hard that it feels like he’s going to die because of the thrill. For the girl, his lips taste like... excitement? Happiness, and perhaps love?

A few people that she thought would give her sunshine and happiness actually have never been anything like this. She’s actually glad that his kiss made her close her eyes to the feel. No matter how much she keeps saying it, never in a way that it gets her bored to say no one has ever made her experience something like this. Kissing in the middle of nowhere, under the burning rays of sun, nothing other than the camera witnessing what’s happening between the two of them and it really, really feels like they are owning the world.

Nice. Now they’re in a motel near the festival as tomorrow is the exact time they would open the gate to all the flowers collected from all over the world. (Y/n) loves flower so much that she decided to check into a motel that has a flower pattern on its wall.

“You can’t just choose this one just because they have a flower pattern on the room’s wall! The review is just so-so!” Jaehyun complained.

“Hey, didn’t you say that wherever I go, you’ll go, and wherever I’ll be, you’ll be?”

“But I won’t be at the same place as you if it’s not guaranteed that they don’t have any bugs at all.”

Booking a room for two which has a twin bed, both of them entered the room, though Jaehyun had to insist to book a room with a queen bed, but failed miserably.

“I’m going to shower first.” (Y/n) goes to prepare her bathing kit and of course, her clothes. “Yeah, sure.”

While she showers, the man wondered if he should officially ask her out, since she said she’s gonna transfer schools soon which means that he might not seeing her again after the roadtrip so maybe an official relationship will make it easier for him to contact her often.

“Should I really do it, like, tonight? I don’t think I should,” he kept the promise ring he bought yesterday at a little jewelry shop when they stopped for a restroom break. 

Before they went to sleep, they spare some time to get a little cute footage for Jaehyun’s travel vlog. “So this is my bed, and that one’s (Y/n)’s bed. I chose this one because it’s quite far from the bathroom since I hate bugs. But you know, I don’t really trust her with keeping me from bugs and- Okay! Okay! I’m sorry don’t hit me with the pillow!”

“Pffftt! Pillow fight!!”

“No! Don’t- my camera!”

A goddamn eyecontact. Hands tangled against each other, eyes both stuttered in shock, as the girl with the pillow accidentaly fell on him. Jaehyun’s free hand instinctively hold her to prevent her from getting hurt, though his brain listens better to his heart, as he feels his heart pounding like crazy against her body.

“I’m... sorry.” “That’s okay.”

“Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” He asked, and later that night, the idea of booking a twin bed room seemed to be a meaningless idea, either.

“So everyone, here we are today aaat... not the exact final location we wanted to go to at the first place, let me tell you the story. When we checked out from the flower pattern motel we immediately leave to the national flower festival which was supposed to be held just 15 kilometers from where we stayed the other night, aaaand guess what?” he paused and you can hear her faint laugh in the background. “Yeah, there is no festival at all. HAHAHAHHAHAAA- Ouch stop hitting me! Are you that embarrassed?”

“That was what happened, everyone. It turned out that the festival was held at December 16, 2019 and before we started this roadtrip, she read only the date and the month, wow. How can you be so cute and stupid at the same time... I am sooo mad!”

“Well, they put the year 2019 sooo small and my minus eyes couldn’t see it- stop giving me that look!”

“Okay, so because miss (Y/n) over here was quite angry that-” “Really angry.” “Okay, she was really really angry for not being able to see the flowers so, I decided to take her to somewhere as an alternative destination. Am I being too good for you?”

“Yes, you are,” she replied with a smile. “Stop paying attention to the flowers! I’m also here, yo,” he pleaded, somehow nervously. “Why-”

“And this is why I kept insisting to take you to a place with lots of flowers... to pick one among all the pretty petals out here, the prettiest petal I’ve ever seen. So, be mine, please?”

the end of video.

a/n: thank you for reading. honestly, I didn’t know whether to post this one cause it’s really been a long time since I write and it really worried me about how much you guys will like it... also, i’m really really sorry for those who put a request into my ask box since I haven’t completed all of them, like trust me, it worries me every single day bcs I feel like I have a debt to pay lol but don’t worry, I promise you I will complete all the requests but please give me a lot of time! once again, big thanks from me.xoxo

Valspire Family - I Went on a Roadtrip with a Stranger

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[davids-cartoon-corkboard]

Next up are Hamburg and Fry! What do they want, and how will the power of their Stones help them get it?

They’re an unusually heroic spin on the “Bumbling Henchmen Duo” trope. Dr. Eggman from the Sonic franchise, Cruella De Vil from 101 Dalmatians, The Hacker from Cyberchase, and many more have a skinny henchman and a stocky henchman, though the diner guys break the mold a bit because Hamburg is taller than Fry.

Neither of them are particularly bright: both fell for Jo’s fake phone call in “Rings of Power” despite being in the same room with her.

And they didn’t properly protect themselves from the “earthquake” in “Niña Gigantica”.

They’re also eager to follow orders, as seen in “Big Win” when they interpreted Jo’s “Listen!” as “I’m about to give you instructions”.

Hamburg has a strict No Bullshit Policy; his response to Kid being noisy and destructive in “Rings of Power” was to wield a rolling pin menacingly and lift Kid up by his ankle one-handed.

And when Carl claimed to have already known about Kid and co. having powers in ”Big Win”, Hamburg bluntly called him a liar.

Hamburg’s name and accent suggest he’s from Germany. Of all the places to move to, why a dinky little side-of-the-road town an ocean away? And why did he move there alone? As is common among comic book heroes, Hamburg has terrible parents. He moved somewhere distant and and inconspicuous to escape them, and isn’t willing to put up with bullshit from anyone else after all those bad experiences.

He would have severed a lot of bonds when he did so, and his seriousness and hint of a bad temper probably mean it’s hard for him to make new ones. Hamburg wants what he never got at home: positive connections.

Flo asks him if he has super strength in “Big Win” and he replies with “Yes, but it’s from working out and eating healthy”. Since Hamburg already has mundane “super strength” and Rosa’s Stone gives her cosmic “super strength”, Hamburg’s Stone will give him strength in a metaphorical, social sense. He’ll have “strength in numbers”, but in a different way than Papa G does.

Hamburg’s Stone will give him the power of Zoopathy (the ability to communicate with animals), and it will be Indigo to reflect the blue/black pattern of his pants and shoes. This man deserves to be a D*sney Princess! He’ll ask his animal friends to act as spies, distractions, allies in combat, emotional support, etc. And if Tuna Sandwich’s translator ever gets lost or breaks, Hamburg will be able translate for him until it's found or fixed. But relying too much on the Stone to give him animal companionship means Hamburg won’t make progress in terms of human companionship. There’s a limit to how much you can work through your issues without the help of other people. His character development will have him learn that sometimes people can be good, and it can be good to trust and bond with them.

Fry seems to be a bit of a wibbly-wobbly nothin’-in-particular kind of guy. He mumbles when he speaks, even while on the job.

He’s oblivious; unlike Hamburg, he couldn’t connect the town’s “earthquakes” to Rosa’s stomping around. He’s also pretty gullible, since he believed Carl’s lie about knowing Kid and co. had powers... or maybe he just chose not to challenge the lie to avoid conflict.

Being able to “turn to goo” like Flo suggested would be fitting, since goo is by nature a wibbly-wobbly nothin’-in-particular thing. But like her questioning of Carl and Hamburg, it's a hint, not 100% accurate. Since his two full tattoo sleeves indicate a high pain tolerance and a willingness to alter his body, Fry’s Stone will give him the power of Shapeshifting, and it will be Gray like his tattoos. What better power for a nothin’-in-particular kind of guy than to be everything? The Local Heroes will no doubt meet a huge menagerie of people and animals on their adventures that he can draw inspiration from. Sharp claws, venom, camouflage, gills, the ability to impersonate a relevant evil alien minion- there are all sorts of uses for such a power!

It’s especially useful in a metaphorical sense, because shapeshifting is about hiding who you are, and what happens when you can’t do it anymore. As we all know, The Audience Craves Violence Catharsis, so we generally expect the character in question to go apeshit once the lid pops off of their repressed anger or trauma or hungers of various kinds. But trope subversion is part and parcel of Kid Cosmic’s appeal, so I think Fry is hiding something else.

Fry is queer and/or neurodivergent, though Vibes are my only evidence right now. Shapeshifting will go a long way towards helping him Blend In And Be Normal wherever he goes, but it can’t truly change him. Rather than an accidental outing or a breakdown and tearful confession, Fry will come out of the closet after he gradually grows smore confident at being himself and trusting that his allies won’t think less of him because of it.

---

(Carl) (Carlos and Ramona) (Carla)

(Hamburg and Fry: You Are Here) (Flo) (Chuck)

[yellowocaballero]

He’s Just Not That Into You: Web!Jon and Martin ficlet

Another ficlet written in the same universe as The Convention on Chronographer Lane/The Monster at the End of This Book. As before, you don’t need to have read that to read this. These ficlets are being written as character studies so I get a good handle on the uniqueness of the characters in this AU before I actually write something longer. Which is why they’re...like this. 

Very slight content warning for internalized fatphobia and Jon being interpreted as being a creep again. Reverse content warning for Martin’s tasty pasta. 

EDIT 2/4/2021: With the release of Sucker’s Bet, which this story was a kind of pilot study for, this story is no longer canon. However, you can still consider it a 15 page summary of that entire story. I’m sad I couldn’t keep the ‘join my spider cult’ thing but we all make sacrifices. 

Martin was in the middle of making a delicious pot of pasta when Jonathan Sims crawled in through his kitchen window.

Martin stared at Jonathan Sims, too out of it to even be surprised. Jon halted halfway through his entrance, sitting on the windowsill with one leg swung over it to rest on his floor, one leg on the fire escape above. Martin was on the sixth floor of his flat complex.

“Hullo,” Jon said, as if he was not in his window, “have you reconsidered my offer of -”

Martin threw his spoon at Jon, hitting him squarely on the forehead. Jon cursed, shocked into leaning backwards, and he accidentally topped off the window and onto the fire escape. He landed on the metal grid with a loud crash and a rattle, and the muffled sounds of his cursing echoed through the flat.

After a second to grab a new spoon and turn down the heat on the pot, Martin walked over to the window and wiggled it down again. He looked Jon dead in the eyes as he locked it, before going back to his pasta.

It was good. He should add some pesto and herbs next time.

Martin was in the middle of making a delicious pot of pasta when Jonathan Sims crawled in through his kitchen window. 

Martin stared at Jonathan Sims, too out of it to even be surprised. Jon halted halfway through his entrance, sitting on the windowsill with one leg swung over it to rest on his floor, one leg on the fire escape above. Martin was on the sixth floor of his flat complex. 

“Hullo,” Jon said, as if he was not in his window, “have you reconsidered my offer of -”

Martin threw his spoon at Jon, hitting him squarely on the forehead. Jon cursed, shocked into leaning backwards, and he accidentally topped off the window and onto the fire escape. He landed on the metal grid with a loud crash and a rattle, and the muffled sounds of his cursing echoed through the flat. 

After a second to grab a new spoon and turn down the heat on the pot, Martin walked over to the window and wiggled it down again. He looked Jon dead in the eyes as he locked it, before going back to his pasta. 

It was good. He should add some pesto and herbs next time. 

***

Martin had never really bothered to learn how to cook, but now that he was unemployed he had plenty of time. 

Now that he was unemployed, he had plenty of time for lots of things. He was finally taking up knitting again. Lots of seasons of Jane the Virgin to catch up on. His severance package from the Institute had been pretty good, not to mention the check Rosie had slipped him with a wink that she had worryingly called ‘Hazard Pay’, but this was London and even Martin could only make the money stretch so far. He spent eight hours of his day looking for jobs, touting his five year experience as a librarian and six month experience as an Archival assistant. But there was only so far you could go without a degree, and the market was shit, and really wouldn’t it just be so much easier to list a master’s in library science from some huge, anonymous university…

But Martin had the feeling that line of thought was what had put him on Jon’s radar in the first place. 

***

A week later Martin was halfway through a comforting Gilmore Girls rewatch when he heard a knock on his door. He had been fastidiously avoiding answering knocks on the door ever since Jon had pulled his first Jehovah’s Witness impression, but he had ordered a replacement washing machine part and it was arriving that day. He put his knitting down and got up, peering through the eyehole - hair not nearly long enough to be Jon, great - and opened the door. 

“Hullo,” the man said in a thick Cockney accent, not looking up from his clipboard, “I got a package here for Mr. Blackwood?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Martin held out his hands to take the little screen and sign for the package. After a second of clumsy fumbling, the man passed the package and the screen over, and Martin boredly scribbled his name. “Thanks, mate -”

But the man was gone, and Martin had realized belatedly that the man had slipped past Martin to enter his flat. He easily slid the cap off, letting his tightly curled hair cascade down to his shoulders, and propped his hands on his hips as he spun in a circle, admiring Martin’s extraordinarily boring and cramped flat. 

“Really love what you’ve done with the place!” Jonathan Sims said loudly. “Your sense of interior design is really impeccable, Martin, truly. A man’s home is his castle! Oh, is that vintage chintz? So cute.”

“Get out of my house.”

“Look at this ceramic kitten!” Jon was already in front of his mantle, carefully scrutinizing his little row of ceramic figures. They were fifty pence at the charity shops and Martin found them precious and charming, okay? “Your place has so much personality. My flat has personality too, but I’m afraid that personality just screams a propensity towards arson, so it’s much less impressive. How old is that couch, from the 70s? Very grandmother. Is it inherited?”

Yes. “No,” Martin said, resisting the urge to throttle the man as he dumped his washing machine part on the end table, “and please get out of my flat. I’ve said explicitly I don’t want you where I live -”

“Really, Martin, I’m hardly a vampire,” Jon said, having the gall to look offended as he cradled a little meowing ceramic kitten in his hand. “If I needed permission to enter dwellings I’d never go anywhere.” He paused a beat, something seeming to occur to him. “But I get a lot of permission from many different people of a variety of genders to enter their homes for sex, which I am very good at.” He paused again. “I really am very thirsty. I don’t suppose I could trouble you for a spot of tea…?”

Because Martin was British, he made the tea. But he resented every second of it. 

Jon hadn’t started stalking him immediately after he and his weirdo friends had murdered Martin’s boss, but it was pretty close. He had probably thought a week was enough time to emotionally recover from the ordeal of finding out that your boss’ boss was an immortal apocalypse cultist or whatever and that your boss was actually just a plant from a different and somehow creepier apocalypse cult inserted into your workplace to assassinate his boss. He had probably thought that a week was enough time to emotionally recover from the fact that Jonathan Sims - prickly, rude, pretentious Head Archivist with a heart of gold - was an elaborate fabrication, and that the man whom Martin had been falling for had never truly existed at all. 

A week had not been enough time. 

He didn’t even know Jon’s real name. 

“So what is your real name, anyway?” They were, unfortunately, sitting at Martin’s rinky-dink kitchen table, complete with little pock-marked burn scars in the wood and a wobbly leg. Martin had a magazine rolled up and jammed under the leg, which he was uncomfortably aware of as Jon lounged in his hard little wooden chair as if it was a thousand dollar gaming chair. The fake UPS uniform helped make him look like something other than a movie star, but it was hard to disguise the sharp and haughty features and the cold grey eyes. He had kept the ceramic cat, placing it in front of him with its little plainative face turned towards Martin. 

“What makes you think it’s not Jonathan Sims?” Jon asked archly, sipping at his PG Tips out of a chipped black mug. He made a faint face. “Sorry, is there cream for this? I hate black tea.”

“You always take your tea black,” Martin said automatically. Jon stared at him until he got it. “Of course. Right.” 

By the time he got back to the table with the sugar and cream Jon was going through his mail, with absolutely no shame whatsoever. “Bill, bill, overdue bill. You’re hurting for money, aren’t you? You know, I might know someone who’s hiring -”

“If you’re about to say a giant spider that’s going to lay eggs in my stomach and then burst out of my skin and transform me into a spider person, I have to pass.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Jon blatantly lied. “I just don’t think you’re hearing me out. Has anybody ever told you that you’re very unwilling to listen to new ideas?”

“When the new idea is joining a spider cult, then yes. Actually, no, because nobody’s ever asked me that before I met you.”

Jon didn’t seem to pick up on Martin’s extraordinarily pained expression, or maybe he just didn’t care. He leaned in instead, easily dropping a grotesque amount of sugar cubes into his tea. “Just consider it. Let the idea percolate in your mind. There’s a lot of benefits. No more worrying about money. No more putting in all that work to manipulate people. It’d be as easy as breathing for you. Anybody you want to like you likes you, and anybody you hate has their life ruined in days.” Something glinted with light in Jon’s grey eyes, like a spotlight shining off a raincloud. “Anybody you want to fall in love with you does so instantly. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

“All for the low, low price of selling my soul to a giant spider god,” Martin said sarcastically. Jon nodded fastidiously, as if it really was a low price. “Seriously, Jon? I have no interest in any of this. I don’t even know why you’ve singled me out to stalk. I don’t - I don’t like manipulating people, it’s not some kind of hobby -”

“Liar. You love manipulating people.” Jon sipped his tea, as if bored. “Honestly, Martin, we’re all friends here. I won’t judge. You don’t need to virtue signal. We both love manipulating people, getting what we want, putting on personas. We like to control how people see us, no matter what that perception is. You believe that ends justify the means, I believe that good means result in good ends. We’ve very similar.” Something strange entered Jon’s expression, almost entirely hidden by the tea, and for the first time Martin wondered if this was an expression Jon hadn’t meant for him to see. “You’re the only person I’ve ever met who is exactly like me. We should work together. You’re so well suited for the Mother. You’d be a treasured son. Valued, celebrated, loved. Everything you always wanted, you can have.”

Silence stretched between them. Martin let Jon think that he was thinking it over, staring into his own cup of Earl Grey and letting the slowly wafting steam fog up his glasses. Jon sipped his tea again, still posed casually yet attractively. In a brief yet stupid spurt of nostalgia Martin found himself missing the man he thought Jonathan Sims had been. 

Stupid. Loving Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist, had been as real as crushing on a love interest in a dating sim. Instead, Martin leaned in, and Jon leaned in to match him. Martin locked eyes with him, as sincerely as he possibly could. No lies, no artifice. “Stop projecting your insecurity about your own bad decisions on me,” Martin enunciated clearly, and Jon’s eyes widened in shock. “and get out of my house.”

He did, eventually. Maybe that was one of a million surprising things about Jonathan Sims, or whatever his real name was: Martin could always get him to do what he wanted eventually. 

***

Martin did not spend time thinking about Jonathan Sims, mostly because he had the feeling that this was what Jonathan Sims wanted. 

Instead, he frantically piled more and more projects and work into his free time. Ever since he was seventeen, Martin had always held down at least three jobs. His life was a never-ending rotation of a six am to three pm shift at Papa John’s, then a three pm to ten pm shift at Panera, and then stumbling home to stuff a ready meal in the microwave before doing it all over again only to work his third weekend job on the weekends. It had gotten to the point where he had paid the unemployed downstairs neighbor living on disability cheques to feed and occasionally take care of Mum because he hadn’t had time to do it himself. Martin could have have just dropped a job and scraped by on two so he could take care of Mum himself, but - well, it wasn’t hurting anybody. His neighbor had needed the cheques, right?

In comparison, the Institute had been an absolute dream. Work from nine to five, every day, then come home and crash. There had been benefits, insurance. It probably said something that even after discovering that both of his bosses had been cultists to Lovecraftian horrors who wanted to end the world or whatever, it was still the best job he ever had. He even missed it, sometimes - missed listening to Sasha and Tim joke around, missed the repetitive work, missed harmlessly and shallowly crushing on his persnickety boss who sometimes flashed a smile at him that made his heart melt. 

Fucker had known exactly what he was doing. 

That was what got Martin, even now. What had been the point? Jon had been there to infiltrate Elias’ plans for a Head Archivist, or so Sasha had confusingly explained after the fact. The skeptic, pissy act was to show himself off as an ideal candidate: willfully ignorant, psychologically vulnerable, and utterly isolated from everyone. What was the point of...of...seducing Martin?

The thought made Martin want to die. Imagine living a life where you woke up in the morning and thought to yourself, ‘Today I’m going to seduce the ugly, fat, high school dropout in my extensive long con to save/destroy the world’. It was like he was a movie star in a heist film or something, only cruel and pointless. 

Was it just to make fun of him? Martin had thought it was. But as he...interacted with Jon more and more, he got the sense that his fascination with Martin was genuine. He genuinely saw something of himself in Martin. 

Unless that was a lie too, and he just needed something from Martin. Unless Jon knew that Martin knew that he was conning him, and that there was another reason -

Martin had the terrible sense that Jon lived his life like this, always guessing and second guessing and triple guessing. It sounded...very tiring. 

He didn’t know how to explain any of this to Tim. They got together every so often for drinks - actually, Tim texted him asking to hang out, playing it all cool as if he went out and got drinks with tons of buddies all the time but was doing Martin a favor. Martin had the sense that he was hiding a deep and pervasive loneliness, but these days whenever Martin went down too deep a spiral of teasing out motivations he felt like Jon, so he quickly cut it out. 

“What’s there to get?” Tim said, throwing back his pint. “He’s an asshole who pretended to be our friend for months, and he turned out to be a total creep who leads a spider cult. You know, as happens sometimes!”

Sometimes Martin got the sense that Tim was a little bitter about what happened at the Archives. He didn’t really have a good thread on why yet, but he had the sense it was because Tim had ‘adopted’ Jon as his friend very intensely and that made him react badly to the perceived betrayal - no! No psychoanalyzing! Not today! 

“It do be like that sometimes,” Martin said wisely, peeling away the label at his shitty beer. The bar was crowded, noisy, and dim, and it was hard to hear Tim over the noise. “I don’t know, though. If that was all there was to it, he wouldn’t be showing up at my house all the time…”

“Wait, what?”

Martin explained in short order, trying not to feel embarrassed about it. Tim seemed to grow increasingly furious, and Martin found himself trailing off uncertainly near the end. 

“He’s doing the same thing to Sasha,” Tim said lowly. “Fucking freak.”

“Wait, what? He’s been bothering Sasha?” Jesus, that really was creepy. Come to think of it, Martin hadn’t seen Sasha around lately - she used to come get drinks with them right after they all got fired, but the last three invites she had begged off and said that she was ‘dealing with a lot right now’ and that she was ‘really swamped’. Martin was pretty sure that she was also unemployed, so he didn’t really know what she was swamped with, but it wasn’t any of his business. Maybe she was depressed. “Like, is he also trying to recruit her into the spider cult, or…?”

Weirdly, Martin felt a weird pang of disappointment at that. He had thought that what he and Jon had was special. 

Ha ha. As if. 

“I don’t know!” Tim cried, frustrated. He was gripping his pint glass tightly, as if he wished he was wrapping his fingers around Jon’s very slim and attractive neck instead. “First he keeps bothering Sasha, and now he keeps breaking into your house and flirting with you -”

“What!” Martin squeaked. “He’s not -”

“He’s a predator,” Tim said finally, as if he was a judge delivering a verdict. “Fucking freak. Martin, next time he drops by, I want you to call me immediately. I’ll kick his ass for you.”

“I’m a grown man, I can kick his ass by myself,” Martin said lamely, fully aware that he had never kicked an ass in his life and never would. 

“Don’t let that bully intimidate you,” Tim lectured, like the overbearing big brother Martin had always kind of secretly wanted. “He’s just a grifter, spider cult or not. Seriously, Martin, next time he bothers you call me. I have more than a few things I want to say to the bastard.”

It was heartwarming, almost. “You haven’t seen him since he killed Elias, right?”

Tim looked away, scowling. “Nope. Dunno why, if he’s hassling you two. I’m the only one with some serious questions I need to ask him, and he hasn’t even - whatever.” He looked back at Martin, forcing a great big smile. “Really, if he wants a hottie, why isn’t he knocking on my door, right? Like, come on, I’m single and ready to -”

“How’s the job hunt going, Tim!”

“I’m trying to get back into publishing, what do you think! Kill me!”

Martin liked Tim. If you had asked him four months ago if they were really friends, he would have smiled and deflected, because he was pretty sure that Tim was just that friendly to everybody. Martin always felt insecure with friendly and nice people, because he never knew if they were being friendly to him because they liked him and considered him a friend, or if they were just like that with everyone. 

But they still got drinks when they didn’t have to, and the expression of tight and barely controlled rage that flashed through his face when he thought that Sasha and Martin were in danger from Jon was real. Maybe they really were friends. 

Maybe there was something deeply buried and long since repressed in Tim that was destroying him slowly from the inside. Maybe Martin and Sasha had that too, that rot: the way Sasha would carelessly invade privacy to hack inside people’s private files without even thinking about it, the way that Martin would almost instinctively balance impression management with playing down to expectations with always dissecting people in a ruthless search for a weak point without even thinking about it. 

Maybe they were all bad people, every one of them. It felt sometimes as if Martin had a corrupt and diseased heart, that infected parts of his body with a sick necrosis. He hurt people when he didn’t want to; he said things he didn’t mean. There was something rotten and evil in Martin, and sometimes it felt as if he couldn’t help but pass it along from person to person.

Man hands on misery to man, Phillip Larkin said, it deepens like a coastal shelf. Get out as early as you can, and don’t have any kids yourself. 

Well, Martin had the second part down. He was still working on the first. 

***

But Martin was right to worry, because when he woke up at seven the next morning to shamble into his living room, he flipped the light switch to see Jonathan Sims sitting on his grandma couch flipping through his meager collection of books. 

“You don’t read very much, do you?” Jon said.

“How did you get into my house.”

“Told the landlord I was the exterminator and needed to get in to spray for bugs.” Jon tossed the book on the battered coffee table - 1984 - and reclined on the sofa. “You really do have quite a bit of spiders, though. Want me to take care of that? Do you want more spiders? I can get you as many spiders as you like.”

The way he sat was purposeful, the way one of his black boots with a low heel was propped on the coffee table, the way his dark and closely cut trousers were slightly splayed, his tight black turtleneck highlighting his figure was slightly hidden by a fine white silk jacket. The small part of Martin’s mind that used to work at a dry-cleaners inanely wondered how difficult that jacket was to keep clean. Most of Martin’s mind was occupied realizing that Tim was right, and that Jon was flirting with him. 

“What do I have to say to get you to leave my house,” Martin said, instead of asking why, why, why, why. He knew why - spider cult purposes - but why -

“Lots of poetry collections, though,” Jon said, and Martin knew that he had caught him looking. He had a little half-smile: half encouraging, half shy. “You have great taste. I’m a Yeats fan too.”

Sure. “Name one Yeats poem.”

“The Stolen Child,” Jon said instantly.

Martin narrowed his eyes. “What do you like about it?”

Jon was silent. 

“Thought so.” Martin pointed at his door. “Out.”

There it was, a brief explosion, so quick that Martin might have thought he imagined it: grinding teeth, sloping eyebrows, a scowl. A flash of irritation: here one second, gone the next. “I like your poetry, though,” Jon attacked, a different angle. “Your imagery is very vivid.”

What the fuck. “You went through my diary?” Martin screeched. 

“Yes?” Jon looked slightly flummoxed. “I was doing research. People like it when you display interest in their hobbies.”

“I am making coffee,” Martin said, voice strangled, “and I am making breakfast. And if you refuse to leave, you are not saying a single word until I’ve had caffeine.”

And then Martin refused to acknowledge Jon any more. Martin quickly realized that Jon hated this very much, used to being the center of attention wherever he was, and it was an extremely effective method of making him throw himself into a kitchen chair and sulk as the coffee pot sputtered out a cup. Martin focused himself on heating up the pan and cracking a few eggs into a bowl, whisking it absentmindedly as he clenched his mobile. 

He should call Tim. He had never known Jon to get violent, but that didn’t mean anything. The guy was...he was…

He glanced back at Jon, who had his arms crossed and was frowning down at the stained wood of the kitchen table. He didn’t seem to know Martin was looking, and it occurred to Martin for the first time that this might be the authentic Jon: tired and frustrated and uncertain what he was doing wrong. 

The eggs sizzled on the frying pan, and Martin pushed them around with a spatula. “What do you like on your eggs?”

Jon looked up, surprised, before rearranging his expression into something cool and distant. “Surprise me.”

Martin served them cheesy with herbs, just for that. When Jon took a bite he looked surprised, as if he had been expecting something spiteful and received only something good in exchange. 

When he put a cup of Early Grey in front of him, with sugar congealing on the bottom and rosy brown from the cream, he looked surprised again too.

“You’re excellent at reading people,” Jon said, carefully directly after Martin had a sip of his coffee. “Mother would -”

“Do you want to make a bargain?” Martin asked. 

That caught Jon’s attention. He smiled winningly, leaning in, hair carefully arranged to fall over one shoulder in a painfully attractive way. “I could be convinced.”

“If you knock on my door at a reasonable hour, then I will let you in and we can talk or whatever. I’ll make us tea. I don’t care.”

Jon’s grin only widened, and when Martin felt a foot brush his leg he had to fight the urge to jump a foot in the air. “What’ll I do in exchange?”

“You let up on the sales pitch,” Martin said severely, and physically moved his chair further away from Jon. “And you stop lying to me. And for christ’s sake, stop pretending you’re into me.”

 Jon blinked, expression falling in shock. 

He scrambled to paste something back on, but it was as if he couldn’t decide. Martin saw him half-cycle through different expressions, different appearances: abashed, eager, flirtatious. It was as if he was frantically guessing which Jon would work best to convince Martin to do what he wanted, but he just couldn’t decide. 

Finally, he weakly asked, “What makes you think I’m not into you?”

Martin couldn’t help it: he scoffed bitterly. “Guess someone like you was never asked out as a joke in secondary. Nobody would honestly find me attractive. Everything you do is calculated, Jon, and I’m not vain enough to think the flirting is an exception. It’s obvious.”

“I’m not obvious,” Jon said, physically fighting to keep his expression from twisting into anger. It was...obvious. He eventually forced his expression into something wide-eyed and sincere, reaching out a hand to place on Martin’s arm. It was warm, but it settled oddly on Martin’s skin. Something about it didn’t feel like a human arm. “That’s just your low-self esteem talking, love. When I look at you, I see -”

“A sucker?”

Jon opened his mouth, then closed his. His hand was still on Martin’s arm. Martin didn’t know why he hadn’t shaken it off. “I see someone very kind,” Jon said, almost lamely. “I like that in a man.”

“Yeah, sure.” Martin shook his hand off - disgusted with Jon, disgusted with himself. Someone like Jon - attractive, confident, smooth - could never understand how it felt. He didn’t know why he expected him to. “I don’t know why you aren’t leaving me or Sasha alone, or why you’re trying to recruit us both into your spider cult -”

“I’m trying to recruit Sasha into my vigilante superhero team, actually.”

“Whatever. Point is, if I can’t get rid of you, I don’t want our conversations to be exhausting. These...games you’re always playing,” Martin waved his hand demonstratively as he chugged coffee with the other, “are tiring. Maybe - maybe you and I are similar, Jon. But the difference between us is that I find these games tiring. I don’t like doing it. I - what I want is a relationship where there’s no games. Where I can just be me and the other person can just be them. Don’t you want that too?”

Jon stared at him, eyes wide, almost shocked, almost hesitant, almost hopeful. 

Finally, he said, “I only trust three people.”

“I’m not asking you to trust me,” Martin, who trusted nobody, said exasperatedly. What did it say, that the leader of the spider cult trusted more people than Martin did? “I’m just asking you not to lie to me.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” Jon said, before pausing a beat. “I’d trust you if you joined my spider cult.”

“You’re shit out of luck, then. And you’re not going to convince me.” Martin took another sip of his coffee, hiding his trembling hands. “Because you can’t lie to me, Jon. Face it: I’m almost as good as you are.” He smiled wryly. “As good as someone can get without supernatural powers, anyway.”

Jon stared at him, just stared, and Martin let the moment linger in silence as he cut into his eggs. Finally, he said, “You’ll tolerate my presence if I agree to drop the act.”

“Yep.”

“I’m not sure how to drop the act,” Jon admitted, somewhat embarrassed, as if he was admitting to not knowing how to tie his shoes.

Martin rolled his eyes. “Do your best. You must have been normal at one point.”

“When I was normal,” Jon said, “nobody tolerated me at all.”

The shocking honesty made Martin almost gag on his coffee. Jon’s eyes widened again, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just said, as if he had never meant to say it. As if nobody had ever heard it at all. 

“Now that we’re actually getting somewhere,” Martin said, tactfully not touching that barrel of worms - er, spiders - with a two meter pole. “Can you please tell me your real name? Unless it was, like, wiped from your mind by your spider mom? Is this like one of those cult things were they rename you for indoctrination purposes?” Something terrible occurred to him. “Is every guy in your cult named John and every woman named Annabelle? It was just a fake name you gave to Elias, right? Right?”

Jon - whoever he was - stared at Martin, completely and utterly dumbfounded. 

Then he laughed, long and hard, hoarse and wheezing and breathy, and Martin knew that this, at least, was real. 

***

Martin: I think I’ve taken care of the Jon thing

Martin: Probably

Martin: The guy’s kinda hopeless

Tim: ya sash said that hes cool

Tim: apparently shes a vigilante now? or smth? Idk

Martin: Yeah that seems about right

Martin: At least she’s living her best life?

Tim: ya good for her honestly

Tim: ….so does Spider-Man KNOW how to use all eight of those arms ifyaknowwhatimean

Martin: WE! ARE! JUST! FRIENDS!

***

“ - so then after my father passed tragically of brain cancer, I was raised by my emotionally distant and disaffected Gran. I think she’s the one who taught me that if I ever want anything in life, I have to secure it for myself. I’ve been very independent ever since I was a child, and although my social skills have always been naturally lacking I’ve worked to compensate for that by studying the art of social interaction. I guess you could call it somewhat of a special interest of mine, I like to sit in coffeeshops with my sister Annabelle and study passerby -”

“Uh huh.”

“Did you know forty percent of Britons own pets? I think it reveals interesting things about the human psychology. The domestication of dogs has always been fascinating, of course. Did you know that all dogs are descended directly from the grey wolf? There were other wolf species at the time, but they’ve long since gone extinct.”

“Wow.”

“I know! The evolution of what we today determine as dog breeds were only created in the Victorian era. I’m sure Jonah would have had some thoughts on that, if I hadn’t fed him to my mother. Actually, few people know this, but our modern conceptualization of the wolf pack hierarchy has been thoroughly debunked. Alphas and omegas only exist in captive populations. Tell that to the werewolves, huh! Actually, I organize the weekly Avatar poker games - you can come if you’re interested, great way to make some money - and I actually did tell that to the werewolves, and they were not very happy with me -”

“Jon? I can’t hear the movie.”

“Right, right.” Jon passed Martin the popcorn. “So what’s this one about?”

Martin scooped up a handful of the popcorn without shame, feeding it in a steady stream into his mouth. “About a guy who gets turned into a fly.”

“That’s fun,” Jon said warmly. “I turned a guy into a fly once. He got stuck in a spider-web immediately and everything, it was quite entertaining.” At Martin’s horrified look, he quickly followed it up with, “Gerry had found out that he was illegally evicting tenants who were undergoing cancer treatment, asking for rent before it was due and physically intimidating the tenants and everything. He also stole one thousand dollars worth of goods from Whole Foods and everything, which is quite funny if you think about it -”

“How does someone steal a thousand dollars with of stuff from Whole Foods? It’s a grocery store.”

“I know, right!” Jon threw up his hands, accidentally sending some pieces of popcorn flying. “The rich are the true parasites, Martin! I’m speaking as an insect person!”

“Word.” 

Martin ate more popcorn, and noticed Jon carefully brush his crossed legs against Martin’s knee. 

Well, he was trying. He’d stop pretending to like Martin eventually. 

They’d get there. ;

[harcourtholmesii]

An Officer’s Loyalty (Part 1)

Pairing: Medic X Reader

Notes: I just really love Team Fortress 2 and all the amazing characters! Medic is my main and my boy! I love him to pieces, and couldn’t help but write at least a little something that may or may not have a part 2 in future. Let me know what you think!

Words: 2637

Warnings:

-          Violence

-          Blood

-          Swearing/Cursing

-          Death

-          Suicide Attempt

-          Referenced Abduction and Torture

-          Drug-like Affects (Getting High)

-          Abuse

-          Trauma

 Enjoy!

 One, two!

 Left, right!

 Dodge!

 Duck!

 You were running out of time!

 The swipes from the stiletto switch blade were drawing far too close for comfort. Every strike you barely avoided, leaving behind a fine cut along your cheek, temple and several cuts through the cloth of your BLU uniform. You were cut off from the rest of the team, pistol running on empty and with an overconfident Frenchman aiming for your vitals. The aching of bruises along your body were distracting and you hated every time you had to strain your shoulders and neck. You dipped just out of the way of one of his swings, firing upwards and hitting smoke. You pulled the trigger again.

 It clicked.

 Damn it all! The nearest ammunitions drop was too far to risk running to in such a cramped corridor. You wouldn’t be able to outrun the RED Spy, and one wrong move meant your quick demise and a dizzying trip through respawn. You peered in all directions, eyes following along for any wisp of smoke or slight sound of feet. You threw your useless gun to the floor, hearing it clatter and cringing when there was no sign of it stopping against an invisible foot.

 You reached into your pocket, pulling out your own blade; small and rather useless in a fight. As an Officer, your job wasn’t supposed to be heavy offense or defence. You were a support class that acted as backup for your own BLU Spy, Sniper and Medic. Being on your own meant you were little help to anyone, and the distant sound of gunfire reminded you of your desperate position. Peering back down the corridor, you knew you only had two choices; run for the group or stay put, and hope you could hold off the Spy.

 It was an easy choice.

 You tore forward and down the long, wooded hallway; every footstep one which could be your last. You could see the scorching rays of sunlight just outside the building’s entrance. The dirt of the canyon’s bottom; red sand and sparse of a single, cool drop of water. You were almost there. There was the sound of footsteps behind you, keeping an easy pace and starting to gain. You peered over your shoulder, whipping your arm out through the air.

 It was a blind swing, but you saw a spurt of scarlet and then there was the whirr of a failing machine. The RED Spy flickered back into existence, and peeled his way past you, offering a smirk. Then the smoke poured again, and you were staring back into your own eyes; filled with a sick kind of cruelty. You slashed outwards again, but felt a hand on your wrist and you were pushed down to the floor. You were pinned.

 You struggled. His grip was too strong, and you watched as your pistol (no doubt his own revolver) raised and rest there, between your eyes. You felt your body freeze in horror. Fuck! This wasn’t how this was supposed to go!

 You turned your head up, only just able to see the BLU beam of Medic’s ubercharge, and how the gunfire and presumed ‘safety’ were so close. Your chin was pulled down, Spy having moved to dig his knees into just above your elbows.

 ‘Any last words, boudin~?’

 You growled, the cool metal of the gun burned through your brow. It hurt from the pressure. You swallowed around a sob beginning to surge its way up your throat. Like Hell you were going to show any weakness to this coward!

 ‘I hate to listen to you gloat. Get it over with.’

 You felt his knees dig further, the pressure made it feel like your arms might pop off at the halfway point. The smirk on his face grew to a twisted smile, your fake face leaning down to within only a couple of inches of your real face. You turned your head to get some distance; you could smell the cigarettes he had recently smoked.

 ‘Spy!’ His head turned up, smile dropping to an annoyed look. You tried to peer back and determine who it was that had interrupted him, but you couldn’t see. It was only now that you felt a cold grip on your heart, unlike the fear of being killed during battle. There was no sounds of explosives going off, or the crackle of gunfire and flame.

 The battle was over.

 It was silent outside of the hall, and considering Spy wasn’t concerned with the other’s appearance, it meant only one thing: your team had failed.

 And you were captured.

 ‘It is unbecoming of jou, Spy. It is very rare I see jou disrespecting some-vone like das.’ You recognised the thick, German accent. A light voice, but a dark tone. You struggled more under your doppelganger’s grip, struggling to breathe in this moment. The pain from your arms was getting far too much to bear.

 When he stood up, all the blood came flowing back through your veins, and the numb of your arms and hands became a painful flood. You curled up, holding your arms tight to you, desperate for the warmth of your body to soothe the ache. Above you, the RED Spy had retreated, taking on a far more refined appearance. The smoke poured around him, revealing his true form in the fine suit, as he took to smoking a cigarette and leaving you behind on the floor.

 ‘If you want to kill them, docteur, get it over with. Otherwise, bring them with us.’

 There was the sound of fading feet and heavier boots approaching you, when you felt a pair of strong hands lifting you up a bit from under your arms. It hurt. You groaned, and the arms gently placed you down against the wall. With you sitting up, you had started keeling forward to keep your arms close.

 A heavy, metal object was placed between your legs and hands, the nozzle of the medigun resting beneath your chin. Your arms were placed on either side so as to brace the heavy object against you, and through the haze of red, you could see dark eyes looking down at you. Realising he meant to keep you alive, you turned your head away to avoid the scarlet beams, looking around for anything that might help you escape this. There was nothing.

 Your empty pistol had been discarded a few yards away, and your knife had fallen free and apparently been kicked out of sight. Your rifle was gone, lost in the initial fray of combat. There was nothing to use that could end you quickly enough that the RED Medic couldn’t bring you back from. You couldn’t be captured; if they held you hostage, it just meant more trouble for your team, and the members of BLU would not likely hold a rescue mission for you.

 Since you joined the team, as the rookie and the new mercenary on base, these men who had known each other for years, didn’t trust your appearance. They trusted Miss Pauling, but you hadn’t been introduced by the bespectacled woman in the first place. No, you had been left on the front doorstep, without explanation. You had your papers, but even now you were under scrutiny by your teammates. They wouldn’t come to help you lest they were ordered to.

 You bit down on your tongue, but as you felt the blood pool in your mouth, the man before you rolled his eyes and forcefully gripped your chin. You tried to wrench away and felt a large digit enter between your teeth, forcing your tongue down and allowing the medigun’s beam to enter your lips. You could feel the cuts sealing as quickly as you had made them.

 ‘Das is enough. I’m not going to hurt jou.’ That was a fucking lie! Given the man’s actions both on and off the battlefield, you had no doubt that he was just trying to lure you into a false sense of security. The man ran about the field grinding a blade through bone long after a person had died, laughing all the while. His wild eyes and mad grin were imbedded deep within your subconscious.

 ‘Schtupid. Don’t do zhat again.’

 ‘Why not?’ You bit back, spitting some blood into the dirt by his feet. You pushed the medigun away from your body, beginning to stand on quaking legs. Your head felt light, and your mind seemed in a daze. It had to have been the beam; you had caught your own Medic resting his head over the nozzle with a loopy smile on his face. It probably made you high, which would explain why the pain seemed to have faded to a gentle numbness so quickly.

 ‘You are…’ You stumbled, and as he went to hold you up, you pulled back in a rush. You fell back onto your arse and started scrambling back and away from him. You saw his face, and how that grin from the battlefield wasn’t there anymore. Instead, he seemed more curious and sober after the adrenaline rush. His eyes, still dark and still holding a certain cruelty within them, were softer than what you had seen before. He approached cautiously, hands raised. ‘You are just going to t-take me back. I’ll be tied down and tortured for information.’

 There was a chuckle, but unlike the wild and almost high-pitched cackle from the battlefield, it was a deeper sound from within his chest. It unnerved you slightly.

 ‘Perhaps Spy or Soldier vould vant to, but zhat is not vhy I am offering jou help, Offizier.’

 ‘Then why?’ He had taken to kneeling down before you, and you only just realised his height. The man was taller than he appeared when in battle; he was almost always stooped over a corpse or his teammates. Him being this close, arguably the closest you had ever been to him, you could see how he reached to be nearly a head taller than yourself. Being this close, you could also see his eyes behind the spectacles, and it astounded you to see they were a bright blue.

 ‘Ve haff taken… Notice of jou und how your team treats jou. Zhere is little more I can say before returning to base. Engineer und I vanted to exchange vords vizh jou.’

 ‘And what on Earth could spark the sudden kindness?’ He leaned a little closer, and you noticed he had a dark curl that rebelled against his combed hair. As he closed the distance, you leaned back. He stopped. He cleared his throat, retreating and standing up. He offered a hand down to you.

 ‘Ve could use some-vone like jou on zhe team.’

 ‘Yes, well…’ You glared at his hand, and for a moment you thought about slapping it away. Instead though, it felt almost wrong to do so. At least, in this moment. You ignored it instead, standing with some difficulty. You braced yourself against the wall as you rose to your feet. ‘I already have a team.’

 ‘Und zhat team vill lead to jour funeral.’

 ‘Just as RED will?’

 ‘Nein.’ He stepped closer, and though you stepped back, timid under his gaze, you didn’t run. Certainly, you should have turned tail immediately upon being able to stand, but something about the civil conversation was a strange and curious circumstance you didn’t want to pass up. He was beside you now, offering an oddly tight smile. It didn’t really suit him, at least, not to your understanding of the man.

 ‘Ve haff seen how zhey treat jou.’ He rested an arm on your shoulder, and you shrugged it off, feeling the bruise still formed there beneath your uniform. ‘Und ve believe jou may be… removed if zhey do not change zheir minds about you.’

 ‘Well, as nice as it is that you care, I still don’t understand. What would suddenly spark you to want to help me?’ You bit back any insults or angered tone. It was strange how the man seemed to be genuinely reaching out to you. This was a foreign concept to you, and the fact that it came from the enemy of all people just had your mind in a whirl. Or maybe that was just the high from the medigun.

 ‘We don’t even know each other.’

 ‘So vhat did jou mean to get across to me by jour actions?’

 ‘W-What?’ What on Earth could he have been talking about? You thought it over.

 Sure, you didn’t often gun it for the man on the battlefield, but you were too busy protecting your own, ungrateful teammates. Did he mean you passing the medical kit to him once? Or twice? It was a mercy. The medigun was clearly damaged beyond all repair, and whilst it had cost your team, you didn’t feel it right to execute a man on his last legs; and one that looked so powerful on the field. It didn’t seem right, the visual of him laid up against a wall and nursing an arrow to the shoulder or a spray of bullets across his stomach and chest. You would have done it for anyone else.

 Except, now that you thought about it, you hadn’t. Sure, you kept their backs free of butterfly knives, but you hadn’t given your Medic a kit before, and you had left your Sniper behind when the gunfire got too much. You saw it as a tactical retreat at first, but now you could recall how your thoughts had turned so cruel.

 Let them be.

 They wouldn’t do the same for you.

 I’m still nursing your bruises from this morning.

 Why should I help you?

 With the RED Medic, you had hesitated to give him the medical kit, but gave it to him all the same. The man hadn’t done anything really wrong by you in the past; you were just on opposite sides. You would shoot the Spy given a fucking chance, but this man hadn’t hunted you down and tortured or taunted you on the field. He gave his fair share of insults, but the German hadn’t ever done anything… cruel to you.

 ‘I… Why would I kill you in that moment? It was hardly sporting.’

 ‘So it vas just pity, zhen?’ He said, his tone turning darker.

 ‘W-Well… No, not exactly. Look, why should I have a problem with you? We’re just on opposite teams, that’s all.’

 There was a chuckle. A smile played out on his lips. He reached down and swung the medigun back over his shoulders, and turned to offer a hand.

 ‘Zhen vhy shouldn’t I help jou?’ Good point.

 ‘Vhy don’t you come inside und at least listen to us for a little bit? If jou vant to leave, jou can.’ The darker tone had disappeared, and from his stance he seemed more relaxed.

 ‘How can I trust you?’ He shrugged his shoulders. The hand remained out for you to take.

 ‘Vell, Offizier… Jou can’t, really, but I vant to give jou a reason to. Und if jou come vizh me, ve can just talk.’

 You thought about it. The gloved, outstretched hand was a genuinely tempting, even thrilling offer. The thought about taking a chance and maybe escaping the men that had waged war on you for weeks was one you desperately wanted to take. It could be exciting. It could be the comfort you so desperately needed. It could mean starting fresh with a team that apparently wanted you.

 ‘Fine, but only under the condition that you promise to let me go if I want to leave.’ You took his hand, and the grip was gentle. The smile on his face grew, and the darkness in his eyes seemed to fade ever so slightly.

 ‘I vould expect nozhing less, schatz.’

[vagrantblvrd]

so i started watching The Old Guard because of your posts and mashes so well with the Immortal!FAHC so i was wondering, what are your thoughts on that, like who is the oldest, which era is each member of the crew from, how did they die the first time, and so on :3

Yesssss. >:D

But, no I hope you liked it, friend!

The first time I watched I was thinking that too!

As to Immortal!FAHC I have many thoughts on it from before watching this movie.

I’m also no good at history, and get my eras mixed up? (Like oh my God I had that intense focus thing going on as a kid for a while for WWII warplanes after watching Memphis Belle with my dad, but aside from that, yeah???)

(All of this is to say please excuse inaccuracies as most of what I know is from media and Wikipedia. Also, some of these are more well thought out than others, so pls to keep that in mind.)

Presented in no particular order:

My favorite take on it though has Gavin as the oldest, right? (Pretends he isn’t, but the others find out over time because he stops trying to hide it when he realizes it’s not an issue with them the way it’s been with other immortals he’s run across for whatever reason.)

Born during the Bronze Age and the person he was back then was just awful, horrible little asshole without redeeming qualities to speak of whatsoever.

Came from a wealthy/important family which is something that’s people can still tell to this day even if he’s not a bastard about it anymore.

He died alone and unloved (no reason to love the person he was back then, something he freely admits to anyone asking who wants the real answer) to thieves/bandits or some wasting illness, idk.

From there he learns how not to be a complete piece of shit and honestly, it takes him a long goddamned time.

Lifetimes, really. (Not his, of course, but as time goes and all that.)

Watching and learning from the people around him from the poor farmers and so on who take pity on this dirty traveler on the verge of starving to death to emperors and kings and queens and other puffed up royalty and such.

Favored Italy and England enough that he’s woven both into the Golden Boy’s persona with the accent and references to this grandfather of his that he makes to people who don’t know he’s an immortal.

(Definitely has ties to the mafia, if not served as the head of the Italian mafia for a time, making a comeback as a long-lost/bastard descendant recently discovered with a remarkable likeness to a former mafia head who’s since moved to Los Santos, because of course he did.)

To be fair, he’s still learning with the Fakes, found family and all, and he’s the happiest he can remember being? (Because sappy feels and the whatnot.)

Jack I picture as a viking, because the beard and uh, not much else reason for that line of thinking.

Just this great warrior/peacemaker among his people who dies in battle. (Possibly betrayed because jealous fellow viking at how well-liked and respected Jack is and so on.)

He’s “mellowed” over time, likes to play friendly and affable and so on, will let himself be insulted if it serves the crew’s interests and such? But oh, wow, watch out when he’s angry? (Especially if it’s due to someone hurting someone he cares about.)

Ryan I see as medieval times with the whole kings and queens and knights. (Possibly due to the influence of Kings AU???)

Noble born and served as a knight before being killed in battle or spot of ~intrigue by a political rival/enemy.

Totally got his revenge before realizing the kind of trouble he’d be in if he tried to reclaim his life - unnatural and all - and ended up living a nomadic lifestyle after that. (A vagabond, if you will, because that never not stops being funny to me.)

He gets tangled up with thieves and the like for a while, did some murder for hire that’s been his main career path ever since.

(And okay, if one of the thieves he worked with for a while was this skinny bastard with a big nose and the most ridiculous questions that’s possibly a thing that happened, because reasons. And Freewood.)

Michael I see coming in around the Revolutionary War?

Family moved to the colonies when he was a kid and so on. Signing on to fight against the British and dying in a battle against them, still remembers what it felt like bleeding out in the mud. Has nightmares about it sometimes.

There used to be this whole Thing about it when he met Gavin whenever he leans hard on the British bit that gets even more involved after Jeremy joins the crew.

(Also, also. If Michael and Jeremy collude together against that British asshole, well. That’s a thing that happens. Along with smooches, because none of your goddamned business about that, okay?)

Jeremy comes in during the whole cowboy era, because of the Rimmy Tim getup and I think it’s hilarious as hell.

Originally from Boston (hence the dumb running joke with Gavin and Michael)and moved to the ~wild west as a kid because Adventure and then shenanigans?

Died in a train heist gone horribly wrong and just. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but since he mentioned once it has something to do with his fear of heights, just.

Yikes, you know?

Also, also, the whole bit about cars becoming a thing just before he died (I’m trying not to make a joke about it being of dysentery on a certain trail, but it’s so hard), which is part of why he’s got a Thing about cars now.

(Vroom-vroom fast and that armada of his.)

Trevor, okay, Trevor.

Based pretty much on what his GTA V character used to wear and Trevor himself makes me think of Prohibition-era gangster along with Alfredo?

He and Alfredo started out as street kids in Chicago and the fastest/easiest way to make money for kids like them involved the mob and it was just.

A thing that happened? The two of them coming up in the ranks and BFFs (possibly something more, who can say???) before getting gunned down by rivals one day.

Would have woken up together if the morgue hadn’t fucked up so they went a few years thinking the other had died before accidentally running into one another again, because reasons.

They’ve been together ever since, a pain in Geoff’s ass before he managed to get them to sign on with the crew.

(Trevor kept the fashion sense he had from back then, because of course he did. Doesn’t always dress like he used to, but sometimes he gets the urge and Alfredo laughs at him for it, but he never says a word against it because Trevor looks good like that, you know?)

Speaking of Geoff?

Born around the time Trevor and Fredo were running from Elliott Ness and his Untouchables.

Lied about his age to join the Army and served overseas in the European theater in WWII. Infantry, saw his share of battles that took the shine out of things (what there was to the stupid he kid he was) really damn fast.

Actually survived through the end of the war and made his way back to the US, did some odd jobs here and there for a while as he tried to figure things out.

Listened to the wrong friend (or right one?) and ended up working for some criminal-types, got dragged into the life before he knew it.

Managed to stay alive, learning the ins and outs of being a criminal and all that up until his luck ran out and he ran afoul of some corrupt cops.

Woke up in a ditch somewhere coughing up bullets and freaked out as hell - anyone would be - and then, uh.

Kind of kept going?

Figured shit out as he went, and ran into Jack sometime in the fifties, sixties? Whenever and it was them for the longest damn time before Geoff got the idea to set up in Los Santos for a bit, see how that worked out for them.

(Regret. So much regret because look at all the assholes fucking up his life after that, you know? Really, Jack, stop laughing at him because you’re part of the problem, jackass.)

Lindsay I see as being either relatively young - died in the 80s, 90s? - or as old as if not older than Gavin, depending on the day? (My day??? Idk, I love both a hell of a lot.)

Died in a bank robbery when the asshole responsible for setting the charges to get into the vault miscalculated how much explosives were needed and it was just.

Messy.

Super, super messy.

Fiona is absolutely the youngest, someone Gavin ran into in Europe when he pulled the thing about being his own descendant.

Met her in Paris on his way to the US when she got so goddamned angry at him for accusing her of picking his pocket (a thing she totally did, btw), but she cased such a scene she managed to escape before the cops or Gavin could do anything about it.

She dies in Liberty City working for some assholes who never deserved her, and Gavin happens to be there when she makes the mistake of picking pockets to get enough money to get the hell out of the city before anyone realizes she’s not as dead as she could be?

Terrible disguise of baseball hat, big sunglasses and a scarf over her face, but her response at being caught out as a thief is too similar for Gavin not to realize it’s her.

And then, you know.

He mentions this crew out in Los Santos that would be interested in someone like her? Not as a pickpocket because she’s clearly awful at it - “Hey!” - but they’ve chatted a bit and she mentioned something about sniping - or maybe just perked up when he brought it up.

(Visiting a sniper he used to work with and so on.)

Anyway, why not look them up if she’s ever in Los Santos?

And then she does, of course, and then shenanigans???

Also, also, some of them definitely crossed paths over the years. Ran into one another and are all, “Oh, this asshole again,” maybe work together for a while before going their own ways

They all have this story about meeting Gavin for the first time that no one, no one puts together for the longest damn time.

Like.

How the hell could Jack have met Gavin back when he was being a viking when Gavin claims he died in the 60s?

(Claimed to know the Beatles personally, because of course he did.)

Ryan and that thief he met that one time, got all these FEELS for him that had them being partners in crime for a long, long time before circumstanced forced them apart.

...And then met him again a century or so later and on opposite sides before Gavin did a heroic “sacrifice” to save him at the expense of his current cover. Like, they totally picked up where they left off afterward, because not that stupid? But they got maybe fifteen, twenty years after that together before they were forced apart by circumstances again.

Pattern repeats for a long goddamned time before they happen to meet up again around the time Geoff and Jack get to Los Santos and so far their luck seems to be holding steady. (I just. Man, I love the idea of them being the kind of assholes who are stupid in love with one another but the universe at large is like, lol and tosses a wrench into the works every once in a while for the hell of it and them eventually finding one another again. Because DELICIOUS ANGST.)

Or Michael when he was marching to the next battle and some asshole asking him the stupidest question imaginable next to him? (British accent, sure, but he wasn’t the only one on their side with one, so yes.)

Jeremy and that one Pinkerton agent that one time???

Lindsay and that asshole working for a rival gang who didn’t kill her even though he could have? (When she asks sometime after joining the Fakes he’s just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  even though he didn’t like the asshole he was working for at the time and actually engineered the bastard’s death, but yeah, sure, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ .

Fiona, well.

Everyone knows that story because she’s like “YOU MOTHERFUCKER,” when she sees him at the penthouse the first time he strolls through the door after she joins the crew.

And just.

Yes.

They put the pieces together at some point and are like son of a bitch because they figured Gavin’s story about being a beatnik or whatever he said he was when he died was the truth?

And Gavin’s like, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  because technically it wasn’t a lie.

He was a beatnik when he died in the 60s, it’s just that that wasn’t the first time he died.

Eventually he tells them about it in bits and pieces, because they don’t push, demand an explanation. (God knows they’ve all got their secrets and reasons for them and such.)

He tells them because he trusts them and they prove he’s right to by not betraying his trust in them and I’m just, like. Full of FEELS right now, so yes.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ALSO.

Bonus?

But I seriously love the idea of Meg being the inspiration behind the Morrigan.

Just.

Yes.

And if she happens to meet Ryan and Gavin while those two idiots are thieving their way across Europe sometime? That’s definitely a thing that happened.

Also, also, you know she checks up on them in Los Santos from time to time, because old friends (possibly more?) and gets along with Lindsay and Fiona like a house on fire.

Sometimes literally, the three of them >:DDDDDDDD while Geoff’s back at the penthouse shut up in his room because no, no, do not tell him how much of his city’s on fire, Trevor, no.

Idk whether I like former Roman soldier Dan or medieval knight Dan, but whichever one it is he and Gavin go way, way back and they delight in shenanigating about almost as much as Meg and her terrors do in that Geoff is very much :(((((((((((((((((((((((((( when they get together because some part of the city is guaranteed to be on fire at any given point.

[wonkystank]

Bad Decisions, Good Moments

By @wonkystank for @joyful-soul-collector as part of the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

WC: 3k

Rating: Everyone (no swearing, tw for some discussion of anxiety, a character forgets to eat for a while)

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, a bit of Tony Stark & May Parker

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, May Parker, and a few Midtown staff

Summary/Prompt: Peter forgets to eat breakfast and faints from hunger at school. Tony takes care of him, bringing him home to give him something to eat.

Notes: huuuge shout out to Marko for being there on a bad night when I barely knew them. I was really happy when I saw I was assigned to create for them and able to give back!!

Tony was idly fiddling on the newest StarkPhone model in his lab. He was in a concentrated daze when his phone suddenly rang, startling him out of his chair and onto the ground.

He cursed and rubbed his sore backside as he sat on the floor, somewhat frantically patting the desk to find his phone, which was out of sight. He located it on the fifth ring, right before it went to voicemail and spoke without looking at the caller.

"Stark. Who is this?" He panted, out of breath.

There was a long pause on the other side before, "Uh, Tony Stark? This is Midtown High, calling in regards to Peter Parker," the voice said, in a distinctly Southern accent. The voice then, continuing off to the side in a loud whisper, obviously not meant to be heard but failing spectacularly, "Tony Stark! I'm talking to Iron Man! I did not think this number would work."

Choosing to ignore that and spare the secretary some dignity, Tony asked, "Peter? What happened with him?"

"Oh, uh, of course. Peter was in gym class and fainted. He's currently in the nurse's office, and he's perfectly fine, but we recommend he go home for the last three periods of the day and rest. We called his primary contact with no answer so you were next on the list. Are you able to pick him up?"

Tony rolls his eyes at the kid's stupidity. Peter had probably forgotten to eat that morning and his metabolism screwed him over. He replied smoothly, "Should be no problem. I can make it there in 15, 20 minutes?"

"That would be excellent, sir, thank you."

"Great, see you soon."

Tony stood up off the floor, grumbling. He grabbed a suit jacket that was thrown over the back of a nearby chair, attempting to class up the t-shirt and jeans he was wearing.

"Friday? Shut down the lab for the night, I think the kid and I will just stick to my apartment."

Tony Stark lightly jogged up the front steps of Midtown High. He thought the security was a little lacking, and considered dropping by some other time and visiting the principal with his checkbook on him. But not today - he didn't want to bore Peter.

He strolled through the doors with a certain degree of the patented Tony Stark flair and glanced around, finding the office easily, continuing on his way.

The receptionist was on the phone when he walked in, and from her voice, she seemed to be the same one he had talked to. Not wanting to distract her, he lagged back a little from her desk as he waited.

When she set the phone down and looked up, he approached her and said, "Hi, Tony Stark, here to pick up Peter Parker?"

Her eyes widened and she said "Oh, uh, he's in the nurse's office right now - that's a little ways down the hall, first door on your left." Obviously having run through the whole spiel many times before, it seemed she forgot that it was Tony Stark in front of her and slipped into a monotone drone. She continued, "It's in the guidance office, the man at the desk there will help you. You'll need ID so he can make sure you aren't a kidnapper and that you're actually picking up the right kid."

Tony smiled, "Well, we wouldn't want that. Thank you for your time, Miss..?"

She startled, not expecting him to care about who she actually was, and replied slightly belatedly, "Miss Hodge. Pleasure meeting you, Mister Stark."

Tony turned and walked out the door, heading down the hall according to her instructions.

For a few moments, he idly wonders why the nurse's office is in Guidance. What kind of person would put the nurse's office there instead of the main office? He settled on the idea there was no explanation, but that it was decidedly stupid. As he walked, he fished out his wallet and pulled out his driver's license, just in case someone thought he wasn't Tony Stark. If that wasn't obvious.

He reached the doorway and wandered in.

Directing his request to the man at the desk, he asked, "Hi, Tony Stark, here to pick up Peter Parker?"

"ID please," the man droned.

He passed it over. The secretary glanced at it for half a second, handed it back with a form, and said in a bored tone, "The door behind you is the nurse's office, he'll be in there. Please sign this sheet to sign him out."

Honestly, the man not knowing him or not caring was kinda refreshing. At least Tony knew he wasn't a total bootlicker for nothing. He signed the paper a little less boldly than normal, because even though this guy didn't care, anyone who took a look at it after might, whether that was another secretary, a parent, or whoever, and he didn't really want to deal with that. It could end up putting a target on Peter's back if people realized they had a connection and that was the last thing Tony wanted. He already was in enough danger as Spider-Man.

Doing his best to shove all his fears and anxieties into a back corner of his brain, Tony slid the page back to the secretary and turned to the door behind him to get Peter.

He knocked twice and opened the door, stepping in. His attention turned to the brown-haired kid laying on the cot, and he smiled widely at the sight.

Peter was dozing away peacefully on the rubber-coated mattress. His hair was gelled back, but some of his curls had escaped and were flying away. He looked about three years younger than usual, carefree in a way that the teenager typically lacked.

Tony took in the sight for a few moments more and then plopped down on the cot beside him. He set a reassuring hand on the boy's ankle, then started, "Wakey-wakey, Mister Parker."

Peter slowly blinked awake, getting his bearings, but winced at the light.

"M'sser- Mister Stark? What are you doing here?"

"Hmm, well, I'll give you three guesses as to why," Tony replied, in a fake indifferent tone.

Much more aware then, Peter complained, "Don't try and be funny, your personal intern fainted today. Isn't that an emergency that deserves all your serious attention?"

"One hundred percent. On that note, how are you feeling?"

Peter tried to push himself upward and fell back, stifling a groan. On his second try, he fared better and managed to stay upright.

"Mmmph. Yeah, the nurse gave me an Advil, some water, and a pack of saltines before she went to go do a Sex Ed presentation or something. But you know me, that much doesn't really stick. Headache is still kinda killer."

Tony cupped Peter's jaw and rubbed his thumb over his cheek. His brow furrowed.

"Yeah, we really need to find a painkiller that actually works for you. And get some more food. Have you actually eaten in the past 24 hours?"

"Who can really say? Time is relative."

"Kid."

"Adult," came the response, just as dry.

"Y'know, I don't have to stand for this. I can just leave you here, bored and in pain. But I won't, because I enjoy you most of the time you aren't like this." Tony said, waving a hand dramatically. He continued, "Alright, let's break you out of here because there's no sense in staying in this broom closet."

"Agreed," Peter said firmly.

Tony offered him a hand up, steadying the kid when he started to tip. The mentor secured an arm around his shoulders just in case, and then they were off.

Tony tapped impatiently on the steering wheel as they waited at a red light. It had been silent for a few minutes, and Tony was thinking hard.

He broke the silence as the light turned green, asking tentatively, "Peter? Are you… okay? Because you need to eat, and you need to sleep, and if you aren't taking care of yourself, that's something we should talk about."

Peter visibly stiffened, and his voice was unusually hard when he scoffed back, "You're one to talk about taking care of yourself."

Tony blew out a breath slowly. In a calm voice, he said, "Peter."

The boy crumpled in on himself suddenly, wiping at his eyes and sniffling. His voice cracked and the dam inside him that kept all his feelings bottled up broke. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and said, "I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. That- that wasn't fair of me. It's… I dunno, it's been kinda hard lately. All my teachers are getting us freaked out about exams, and I'm still trying to keep up with patrolling, and MJ and I got into an argument and it's really, really just been a lot. And- and everything just swirls around in my brain at night and so I hardly sleep, and then I run out the door for school without grabbing any food. And the cycle just keeps going. May's been away for a work thing the past few days so she hasn't really been able to keep me in check. Today just sorta was my unlucky day, with the fainting thing. I just want to stop hurting. Is that not too much to ask?"

Tony wished he wasn't driving then, that he could devote 100% of himself to Peter in that moment. But keeping him alive by driving safely was also very important, so he made do with what he had and set a gentle hand on the kid's knee.

He glanced over for a second, making eye contact briefly before redirecting his attention to the road. "Pete, being completely honest with you, I can't help you all the way here. I can be here, listen, support you. And I'll be there, every time you need me. But I can't help you rewire your brain, in the way I think you know it needs. I think seeing a therapist would help you a lot, help you deal with your normal and night life stresses. I was where you were once, and I suffered alone like that for a really long time. It wasn't worth it. There's no shame in going to therapy. I go to therapy. If you're not ready yet, that's okay. But I swear to you, no matter what, it gets better. It always gets better."

Peter sniffed a few times, then cracked a small grin.

"Y'know, I'd hug you right now, but I'm pretty sure that'd be a really bad idea."

"Well, I think I can fit a hug into my schedule in a few minutes. But just a quick one, I have other stuff to do."

"Also, wow, when did you get so good at making impromptu motivational speeches? Has all that time with Captain America been rubbing off on you?" Peter wondered aloud.

"Kid, when you grow up famous, you learn a trick or two. Cap was very much in the ice when I learned all this sort of stuff."

"If that's what you say," the kid mocked.

"You're killing me, kid."

Back at the Tower, Peter stretched out on the couch closest to the kitchen.

"What are you making anyway? I thought you couldn't cook."

As Tony buttered a piece of bread, he replied, "Oh, a few years back, Pepper insisted on me becoming a sensible, capable adult, so she signed me up for cooking lessons. I'm no chef like Happy is, but I can hold my own."

Without looking over, Peter said, "So you're making me grilled cheese."

"Wh- yes, but how did you figure out that?"

"Well, I can hear you buttering bread because of my enhancement, but Tony Stark would not simply make a sandwich, ergo, you're about to turn on the pan and make grilled cheese. Easy, delicious, quick, and a step above average."

"What are you, a mentalist now?"

Peter popped his head up and stared eerily at Tony. He whispered, in a tone meant to be creepy but just reaching moderately weird, "I can read your mind."

"Sure kid. So, what happened at school today before your little episode?

"Well…" Peter trailed on about the exceptionally boring English class that morning, then moved on to telling him about Ned's latest obsession with some tech YouTuber. By the time he was finished talking about some idiot client May had at work, the grilled cheese was ready.

With an air of elegance, Tony waltzed over to Peter, plate balanced on one hand, and announced, "Apologies for the interruption, Mister Parker, but your food is ready. Bon appetit."

"Uh, merci, monsieur."

Tony lost the groomed facade and ordered, "Alright, now move your feet because I have to sit here too."

Peter scooched his feet back by one couch cushion. Through a mouthful of sandwich, he responded, "Wow, someone's bossy."

"I am going to ignore that and take the higher path - what are we going to watch?"

"Star Wars."

"You really didn't have to think about it at all, did you?"

Peter grinned, "You know how I said I could read minds? Well, your next question is going to be what episode. To that, I say, A New Hope, because it's the OG and that's what I feel like right now."

"You set me up for that one by purposely not saying which episode first."

"Still got it right, though didn't I?"

Pretending not to hear, Tony turned up to the ceiling. "FRIDAY? You heard the kid. Queue it up."

The opening music began and the text started scrolling across the screen. Peter shifted his legs again so that they were on Tony's lap.

Tony rolled his eyes, "Oh, you think I'm the bossy one? What do you call this."

Peter simply replied by shushing him loudly.

And who could say if Tony enjoyed the contact? (Well, FRIDAY probably could). He settled a hand on Peter's ankle and sat back to watch the show.

Halfway through, long after Peter's exhaustion had overcame him and made him fall asleep, Tony's cell rang. He did his best to slip out unnoticeably from under Peter's legs and went out into the hallway to answer the call.

"Hey May, I guess you heard?"

"Uh-huh. Fainted, right in the middle of class."

"Yeah, as it turns out, he hadn't eaten in a while, especially bad for his metabolism."

In a wry tone, May said, "The next time I go away, you're keeping our idiot kid at your place and taking care of him."

"Yeah, definitely don't want repeats on this episode," Tony replied.

"On second thought, I should make sure Pepper’s around, because we both know that you're almost as bad as Peter about that."

Tony let out a groan and whined, "I resent that. Why didn't I try harder to keep you two apart? I knew you'd swap stories and become more powerful."

May laughed. "You think you could've ever kept us away from each other? We're just trying to keep you in constant terror so you never step out of line."

"Y'know, I'm pretty sure that qualifies as abuse."

May smiles, then shakes her head, and her voice turns more serious. "Thank you, though, for being there for Peter when I couldn't. I'm glad he has someone else looking out for him again."

The unimaginable losses Peter had faced were woven into that sentence. First his parents, then Ben. It had only been May for far too long. But now, there was someone else to shoulder that weight again.

"Always, May. I'm always here." Tony says, in an equally somber tone.

Lightening the mood a little, May adds, "Hey, how about you come over to our place Sunday night? I'd say for dinner, but I'm sure Peter has told you stories about my cooking, so pizza? And a movie? As part of my thanks. I'm sure Pete would enjoy it."

"I think I can swing that," Tony said, "And hey, um, I was talking to Peter, and he seems to be struggling a lot right now. I can set him up with a therapist, get all the paperwork good for the secret superhero stuff. I'll take care of the money too, that's not something you should worry about."

There's a pause, and May's voice is low when she replies, "You're doing right by our kid, in case you ever doubt that. I'd really appreciate that, and I agree, I think he needs it."

"Of course. Uh, I should probably get back to the kid sleeping in the other room. Take care, May."

"See you soon, Tony."

"Buh-bye."

Tony walked back to the couch. He stopped, for a moment, taking a long look at the kid who turned his life around.

"I love you," he whispered. Peter wasn't awake to hear it, but Tony hoped he already knew. He'd say it some other time, when the moment was right and he had barely enough courage. He made a silent promise to himself to do that.

He sat back down, smiled, and basked in the rare peaceful moment he had. Life was good for Tony Stark because he had Peter Parker in his life.

[ziracona]

Do you have any tips for people who want to start writing? Specifically dialogue or how to research thoroughly?

Sure! For starting writing in general, the best advice to start with is look at the stories you yourself love, and identify what you love most in them. Relationships of a certain kind, high-stakes fight scenes, murder mysteries and scenes where people have to choose under pressure who they’re going to trust, redemption arcs, someone ending up adopting a child more or less because the kid has no one else to look after them? If there are scenarios you daydream about writing stories in your head, what are the common themes? No matter how oddly specific that gets or how often or scarcely you see it in fiction, I garuntee you you’re not the only one who likes it, and it’s good to base writing ideas around whatever you want to see more of yourself. You’ll be happy writing it, and the other people who yearn for it too, once they find you, will be very happy to see some as well! For me, I’ve always really enjoyed stories where someone who has no connection to the action ends up choosing to do the right thing and gets pulled into dangerous scenarios, found family, hope punk, and scenes where someone is injured/sick/drugged/unconscious/trapped and ends up at the mercy of someone they expect to hurt them, but who chooses to do absolutely nothing bad to them and saves/helps/looks after them instead (to name a few of many, many faves, haha). Some of those are pretty broad and some are wildly specific, but I love writing them all, and I’m not the only person who enjoys reading them either, so it’s a great kind of springboard to work with. : ) —Ok, for the specific questions though—I’ll do them in two parts to go with the two questions.

For writing dialogue, the biggest thing is to establish distinctive voices for all your cast. That sounds a lot harder than it is. The first real step is just to have some idea who they are as a person. Now, I know you probably don’t have time to be Bleach and have a sidebar backstory that goes for eleven pages about every guard who gets knocked out (and tbh I wouldn’t recommend it either haha), but don’t worry—you don’t need to. A lot of the time, I know very little about characters who aren’t primary cast when I write them first, and only during writing really get to know them either. Think of it a little as improv acting. If you ever have like, done bits with your friends, you actually know how to do this whether you’ve acted a day in your life or not. Friend greeting you on the phone with a fake accent & pretending to be an interviewer & you responding in kind & being like “Well yes, in my best selling novel How to Kill your Ex-Boss” and just running with it totally counts. You have no idea who the person you’re pretending to be is. You don’t know their favorite food or where they went to school. But you do know what they’re going to say next, because you’ve tapped into the person you’re running, and that’s the only thing you need to know. Same if you have ever given yourself fake interviews in your head. You’re playing both interviewer, fiction self (for whom you are for SURE making up details on the fly) & anyone else involved in that scene simultaneously. Writing can be pretty similar. Now, I do this to a bigger extent then most people, because I method-write (which uhhhh, I cant completely recommend, as it is devestating on the emotions :’-] ), but it works used less extremely too.

The idea, really, is to give characters a voice in your head, and have that voice not be the same for any two characters. And I mean voice literally. What do they sound like. Do they talk fast, get excited & into topics easily? Always sound mildly done with everyone else? If it helps, pick the voice of an actor or a friend or different tones you can use yourself speaking outloud—just give them voices. A lot of it will start flowing pretty naturally once the character is created. Writing has a lot of overlap with acting, in that you really need to grasp and be able to kind of jump around in a lot of different types of peoples’ heads. Most people have significantly different ways of speaking, even if they don’t have different accents than your other characters. Some people cuss more, some never do, you get varried vocabulary sizes, and just word choice and tone. I’m probably making this sound a little hard and overwhelming, but trust me, it’s not so bad. Mostly it will come naturally once you get a mental idea of what your character is like, sounds like, and the vibes they give off.

From a more technical standpoint, a couple of really good suggestions are to run dialogue in your head before writing it, and to read your written dialogue out loud. No matter how well you write, you will think dialogue better most of the time. This is just how it goes, because writing is a different process. So something that helps is to mentally “play” a scene out, and jot down some of the dialogue as you hear it, or to pause in writing to run some of the scene mentally, then pick back up again. Another big one is that almost all people, when writing dialogue, will start out writing too formally. Now, that’s totally fine if your character actually just speaks very formally, but most people 80% of the time speak using contractions. Like, you’d probably say, “Hey! How’re you doing? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” and not “Hey! How are you doing? It has been a while, has it not?” (And obviously, most people aren’t going to actually write out “has it not,” but simpler ones like “How are” vs “How’re” or “It is” vs “It’s” are super common to write. Try to keep that in mind writing dialogue, and also try reading your dialogue out loud verbatim. A lot of the time, something will read totally normal to you, but the second you hear it out loud, you’ll go “Oh. Oh, no. No one speaks like this.” It is SUPER helpful, and kind of funny too. Also, don’t be afraid to use verbal interrupters like “Uh” or “Uhm” or substitues for them like “Well” and “Like” —people use ‘em when they speak. We also tend to interrupt our friends to agree when talking about stuff, because the way language is set up a lot of the time you know the end of a sentence before it is said.

Other things that govern how characters speak a lot are their comfort level in a scene and what they want, how open or closed off they are about themselves in general, and their personal ways of thinking in general. For example, Joey Harmin and Quentin Smith are extremely fun to write in scenes together for me, because they both follow fairly understandable and clear logical thought paths, but those paths are completely different. Like they could not be operating on less similar wavelengths half the time, which is hilarious. There’s an exchange I haven’t uploaded for New Dawn Fades where they’re talking for the first time, and Joey is operating nearly 100% on small-picture context (But since you woke up, I have been very nice to you. Why don’t you trust me?) and Quentin is operating at nearly 100% big-picture context (You have killed me before—I have literally no reason to think you won’t any second now once again. I have no idea why you have not already). And both thought lines make total sense for the character to be following, but they could not be more confused by each others’ response. People think super weirdly and super different from each other, and that’s amazing, and some times you legit wont totally get what wild shit your own character is on, but that’s fine. You don’t need to—you just need to know it makes sense to them, and be able to understand it on some logic level, even if you could never really get it emotionally or more really than ‘in theory’ on a personal level. Also, side note—sometimes people speak super differently when in a professional setting vs relaxed, or with different friends, and that’s totally fine. Also-also, you might notice that if some characters spend a lot of time together, they start to speak similarly—that’s super normal too—don’t worry. It’s not you doing a bad job. Friends tend to pick up each others’ mannerisms and speech to some extent, and this is wildly more apparent when they hang out together.

This was a very long and in-depth answer to writing dialogue, but really, don’t let it overwhelm you. The TLDR is more or less just give them different voices in your head, and listen to them, then write down what you hear. Read it out loud to make sure it sounds like them if you feel unsure about it. I personally get into character and try to really think as/become them a bit at least when writing, because I approach writing from a very acting-based standpoint becuase that’s just how I am wired, but even if that’s not how you vibe, just know them a little. Know once you’ve talked to someone for like, three minutes, you have some idea how they talk. The synonym they’d chose, if they’d agree, or disagree, or just give a judgy look, or stay quiet. Know them that well, and try to hear them in your head. Read everything you write for them in that voice, thinking that voice well you write, and it’ll do wonders.

Now, for research.

First up, research is FUN! It’s amazing. It’s so wild to learn things and dip into thousands of parts of human existence you had no idea about at all. Try to think of it as a plus, not a pain, because really, it should be. Now, to be fair, I lean heavy into research—I’ll do days of research to try to find something out if I have to, and I have. I’m learning some of how to write and conjugate an extremely dead language right now for a fanfic, I’ve done massive deep dives from everything to ancient cultures and religions, screen shotting films to zoom in on set detail to learn what artist or band a character is into, what they drink, what they own, to the appproximate timing from specific streets in New York I’ve never seen to each other by specific subway line, to a myriad of wounds and diseases, to mental illness, to historical events as insignificant as marsh draining in specific cities. But bro? It was fun. Sometimes it’s a lot, but the thrill of finding what you were looking for? It’s great.

Now, I’m not saying you need to be me if you don’t want to haha. But when it comes to researching whatever you want to research, here’s some tips: First up, if what you are researching has anything to do with a human experience? (Mental illness, physical illness or injury, sex, birthing, death, how it feels to shoot a gun, or fall from a great height, or have a PTSD episode, anything like that?) You really need to hear it from people, if at all possible. The good news? In this day and age? It super is, almost always! Even with death. You can find people describing death (body death, not complete brain death) experiences they went through, and it’s very cool. I definitely recommend discussion threads, like Reddit, and YouTube videos of people giving their personal accounts for this kind of thing. They’re amazing resources, and also usually surprisingly fast! This is especially important for stuff like neurodivergence, disorders, mental illness, drug experiences, or anything else that’s on a cognitive more than physical level, because if you look at just textbook explanations, they’re not only usually very incomplete, but sometimes even inaccurate. Listening to people can give the truth if it’s missing, and the majority of the time while that’s not the biggest issue—especially concerning like, wounds or freezing or a near drowning experience, etc—it gives it a completeness a medical account just can’t. Also, if you have got any personal experience to lean on? Go for it! I’ve never been electrocuted horribly really, but when researching for the torture sequence in Proven, I both looked up a ton of first-hand accounts and some science to better understand what was going on, and took my own experience of the electric shocks I have gotten as the first building block in making a mental picture of what it would feel like to go through that. Obviously, being shocked hard enough to be flung backwards from a cattle fence (my history) is a far cry from being subjected to parrilla torture, but having a small amount of basic knowledge of the kind of pain electricity causes was useful as a first block in translating the information I was reading into something I understood better.

For non human-experience based research, a lot of it is pretty easy to look up, even if you wouldn’t think so. For example, guessing at the time period for cars in Autohaven and searching different years + truck + brand names for American cars was actually a really short process for finding a match—same with the make of the metal gas cans, back when I was trying to determine when, exactly, Philip was from. Visual image searches are great when applicable, especially if you’re trying to figure out what something is, because chances are if you describe a plant you saw once as ‘Tall lake reed plant with hotdog bun looking top,’ someone else will have once used some of those words when searching for a cattail as well. Also, for non-human research, books and academic papers are great, but so are non-academic sources like videos and photos for locations or objects. Sometimes again though, human info will honestly be where it is at, like reading firsthand descriptions of specific places. For most things, just type what you’re looking for into a search engine honestly and start there. You can totally start on the Wikipedia page for a city or a Greek god or a type of bomb, and move on from there—people put references in wiki articles, and you can check the bottom of the page for the specific source too. You can go on from basic knowledge to add or subtract keywords and refine your search. It’s pretty simple once you get going. If you’re getting extraneous results because a film title shares the name of what you are looking for, or a song or whatever, try quotation marks for an exact match, or - and then quotation marks around what you see that you want gone from results. Pretty basic stuff. Tbh, a lot of the time, it’s all you’re gonna need. Want to write a Stranger Things fic, but you have no idea what movies or shows were popular in the US at the time and need to know what they’d be watching in a scene? Honestly, searching “1980s (or 1980whatever-more-specific year) popular shows” will probably get you what you need in like 4 minutes. Also, if you’ve got a parent who was alive at the time and lived in the place, or older friend (or younger, I don’t know you, maybe this one doesn’t apply to you because YOU were there, but you’d have to ask a teenager irl now what the kids are into for a 20teens story, haha), utilize that resource and just ask them. Discussion spaces again, a massively useful resource. You can find people talking about their shared experiences with almost anything, and hear it more or less first-hand.

If you’re trying to learn about culture or history, again, first-person accounts are where it’s at. If you can’t find any, go for the next best thing, which is descendants or historians with a personal connection/interest. If you really, really can’t find much of that (as sadly has been the case for some cultures or religions I’ve researched in past, considering the lack of documentation period and/or intentional culture erasure going on), then read what you do find on it with a grain of salt. Who wrote it, and when? What biases did they bring? Also, often an old document like that might be the only first source you can find, but taking whatever badly documented info they have and trying new searches with the specific language you learned from them can yield new and much better results. Just do your level best. ^u^ Really, that’s all anyone can do. Sometimes there will be things without much out there period, and you don’t have to like, put 97 hours of research in combing your local library for any thing you may have missed for the fic you’re on right now or something. Just do your best, do what you can, and care, and you’ll be okay. It can seem daunting, but doing your sincere best is what anyone who does know the answer—living or dead—would care about, and it’s an important thing /to/ do, and also a pretty informative and fun one. Also, I swear it’s not as intimidating as I might make it seem. Pretty much always you’ll be able to find some decent chunks of solid and very useful information eventually, on anything. And most things actually do not at all take that long to research. I’m a monster, who likes to down research more and more each morning like I’m building up a resistance to iocaine powder to someday win a battle of wits, but you really don’t have to be me, and if you want to be, chances are that means you also just really heckin love learning new facts, so you’re gonna love the wild deep insanity of creating It’s Always Sunny Meme level conspiracy walls trying to track down ancient evil trees in mythology to figure out what in the goddamn the Entity really IS and you’ll adore it all. If you’re not, trust me—that’s completely fine. Most research is gonna take between 20 minutes and a few hours, depending on the level of complexity, and once you learn it, you have all this cool new knowledge! Like that you can fake a death with tetrodotoxin so well someone with a high but not fatal does in them could die undergoing an autopsy! Or how much opium kills someone, how it actually feels to black out, how hard it actually is to chloroform someone, or that wolves have been known to hold funerals for loved ones, or how to stitch a wound. It’s like, amazing. Join me, and become that thing from Adventure Time going “I have approximate knowledge of many things” while rubbing its grimy hands together with glee.

Uhhh haha, I made this one more concise wildly, but the TLDR version is just ask people or read or watch what people who have undergone X thing say it is like (oh, and make sure to read more than one account—big one with accuracy). For non-human research, start with just a basic search. If you’re a student and have access to academic searches more easily, totally use that. If not, don’t worry. Lots of academic search compilation sites are still open to you, and honestly, you’re only going to need to turn academic for highly specific and wildly rare information period. Most of the time, hear it from people who know the answer. Discussion forums and YouTube journal-type videos are fantastic resources. For what living in rural Wisconsin in the early 1980s was like for Philip, I searched about living in the early 1980s in rurual Wisconsin, found specific names in an article for the kinds of cheap apartments common, adjusted my search, and found a ton of good resources by people documenting the struggles and mistreatment of life there at the time, and also found out Milwaukee is surprisingly one of the most dangerous and racist cities in America, then and now, on the way. For Kate experiencing being forced to drink bleach, I watched seven different people on YouTube talk about their experiences drinking bleach, and read up on the medical side to understand the science of what happens to you, plus a few text descriptions as well. But really, both of those were pretty fun and fascinating and quick research stints. Most are. I super recommend trying some deepish dives out, even just for fun and not with writing planned in mind at all!

Anyway, I hope this helps! I wrote it at one in the morning & didn’t proof because I feel very bad and need to pass out to try and heal, so sorry if there are any errors that make this hard to read. Thanks for asking! This was fun to answer. Please feel free to ask any follow-ups if there’s something I didn’t seem to cover, or you want to know more about either of these or something else. I’m certainly not the world’s leading expert or something, but I got some fun methods and tips I’ve developed over the years I’m happy to share with a fellow writer (or bored or curious person just interested in the process, haha). Again, I gave long answers because I wanted to be thorough, but I promise neither dialogue nor research is a difficulty level reflected in the length of those answers—that’s just me being me. Don’t let it intimidate you! They’re both fun and actually not so hard things to do. You just kind of need to learn your starting off points and get your sea legs, and the rest mostly comes naturally and easily and is very fun. It’s super satisfying to read a line and be like “Only you, my dumb child” seeing the stupid crap they say, or “You’ve come so far” watching how they’re choosing to reach out to someone now vs as the story’s start; or to have needed a way to have a character pry open a wedged car door and find just exactly the perfect tool you could even have a logical reason for them to easily find in the scene and be able to sit back down thinking YES!!! I got it!! —it’s a rush, and very, very satisfying. I’m sure you can do it!! And I wish you the best of luck. I sadly made this on mobile because I forgot tumblr sucks and won’t let me retroactively add read mores on mobile now and it’s too late for me to change that, and I’m so sorry this is so long 😭😭😭, but I’m tagging it “long post” so hopefully tag blocks can still save people :’-] — anyway! Hope this helps and best of luck. Night! 💙

[sometimestxt]

Everyday

Fandom: SPY x FAMILY Characters / Pairings: Twilight (Loid), Yor, Anya / some Twilight x Yor Summary: The Forgers are the perfect fake family with perfectly fake feelings; flowers, sunset watching, and bedtime stories are to be expected, of course.

Word Count: 1,653 Read on ao3.

-

“Here, Yor, I got these for you.” Loid unceremoniously holds out a bouquet of flowers towards the woman in question. He shuts the front door behind himself so quietly it doesn’t make a sound.

Yor points a finger at herself. “For me?”

“I stopped by the florist on my way home—some of the neighbours were talking about us again—I believe this should quiet them down for the time being,” he elaborates. “They said it was ‘quite delightful’ when they saw me walking by with this in hand.”

“Well, they are lovely.”

Loid nods his head once in agreement, passing the flowers over to Yor. Following that, they head into the kitchen together. Anya sits at the dining table, her head buried in the latest volume of Spy Wars.

Her attention turns towards the sound of the entering footsteps and her eyes light up at the sight of Loid. “Papa!” she exclaims.

“What are those?” she asks next, pointing at the bouquet in Yor’s hands.

“Loid bought some flowers,” she answers with a smile.

Anya turns towards Loid with an expectant look on her face. “Did Papa get anything for me?”

“I’ve already gotten you enough things,” he reprimands.

“Maybe next time,” Yor intervenes. “Don’t you think these look nice, Anya?”

The young girl mumbles a few incoherent words in response.

Yor holds up the bouquet in her hands, observing it more closely. “Oh, there are lilies of the valley here… snapdragons too.”

She doesn’t see the way Loid’s posture straightens at those words. He swiftly inquires, “Are you familiar with floriography? The language of flowers.”

She blinks, gaze moving towards her fake-husband, then back to the bouquet. Her expression turns sheepish.

“I know of it, but I get a lot of the meanings mixed up. Oh, maybe I should understand it better, all things considered. And even you’re familiar with it…,“ she trails off.

Flowers aren’t necessarily her forte, but she does know a thing or two about thorns. And poison. Still, she probably shouldn’t say.

“No, it’s quite outdated. I don’t think many women these days understand it that well besides the most common flowers, such as red roses,” he reassures. “I’m not that knowledgeable of it either; I was actually wondering if you were. I’d only taken the florist’s recommendation for this.”

Anya stares at Loid, her eyes narrowed.

“Well, it looks beautiful,” Yor compliments. “We should put it in a vase.”

“Of course; I can do it,” he says, taking the flowers back from Yor. The kitchen becomes quiet once more as Loid busies himself with the bouquet and Anya turns her attention back to Spy Wars.

“Ouch,” Loid mutters suddenly, “pierced myself with a thorn.”

“Are you all right?” Yor asks immediately, concern lacing her voice.

“I’m fine; I’ve been hurt by much worse before,” he says wryly. “It’s barely a prick.”

Anya immediately jolts up and stares at Loid, her eyes wide. His focus stays on the flowers. The girl shakes it off before eventually asking, “Thorns?”

“Some flowers have thorns on them. They’re little prickly things. They hurt a bit when you touch them,” Yor explains. “Pretty things like flowers can be a bit dangerous sometimes.”

“Mama is pretty,” Anya says pointedly.

“Oh, well, this and that—they’re, uh, kind of different.” She chuckles then, a nervous hint to her laughter. “It’s not like I’m, uh—”

“Done.” Loid sets his finished work on the tabletop, interrupting Yor’s babbling. Anya seems to have lost interest, her eyes once again glued to the pages of spy shenanigans set in front of her.

Yor clears her throat then, gaze turning to the vase. The flowers are lined neatly. “Thank you, Loid.”

Daisies and daffodils make up most of the arrangement, she notices. A pure white. It’s accented with a few yellow roses and a handful of carnations, light red in colour. The lilies of the valley and snapdragons fill the rest, bringing it all together.

If she remembers correctly—

Her lips form into a small smile.

“Thank you for thinking of me, Loid, thorns and all,” she says softly, so quietly that only a trained ear can properly hear.

“It’s only natural for a husband to buy flowers for his wife,” he replies simply.

“Still,” she beams, “you’re very thoughtful.”

He turns his face away from her. “Think nothing of it.”

New beginnings, admiration, and happiness.

How sweet.

-

Twilight carries Anya in his arms as he strolls down the cobblestone path of the city. Yor walks next to him, diligently keeping up a perfect pace.

They look like the picturesque family, as they should.

The perfect fake family with perfectly fake feelings.

In his arms, he feels the steady rise and fall of Anya’s chest. She’s already fallen asleep. It’s been a long day after all, keeping up this farce. The sky is fading from a bright blue into a deep orange hue.

“Ah, the sun is setting,” Yor points out, her voice soft. “Twilight, right?”

He blinks. His face is neutral, doesn’t even move a single millimetre at her remark—he’s schooled himself in deceit, after all—but what if, what if. He gazes across the horizon and sees the shadows of buildings, homes, everything, silhouetted by the setting sun.

His mind runs at a hundred miles per minute; his backstory is perfect, Anya hasn’t let anything slip, his forged documents are infallible, and he’s a master of disguise. He hasn’t raised any suspicions with her, he concludes.

“Yes, twilight,” he eventually echoes.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she continues. “It’s always so lovely to see the sky painted in such warm colours. Twilight might be my favourite time of the day, I think.”

She says it so easily.

“It signals the end,” he comments. “Of the day.”

It’s elusive, not quite there. There for a moment, then gone in the blink of an eye, disappearing into the night sky. Something out of reach.

“You almost say it like it’s a bad thing,” she observes.

He shrugs his shoulders lightly, making sure not to wake Anya. “Some of my patients don’t do so well in the dark, with twilight—the transitionary period. The darkness in particular can be a pain point, especially the unknown that it brings. It’s not uncommon.”

“Oh, I see.” Her eyes turn back to the horizon. “That’s too bad. It really is beautiful. I think the dark… is also comforting. I’m more comfortable in the dark.”

He raises an eyebrow in response.

“Not to be weird or anything!” she exclaims. “And, uh, even though it’s the end of the day… I do think twilight is quiet, and… warm.”

He almost laughs at the thought, but he can tell from her body language and from the inflection in her voice that she is being completely earnest.

“And I think,” she continues, turning to face him once again, “that this is the perfect way to end the fun day we had, Loid.”

His mouth suddenly feels dry and Anya stirs in his arms.

Twilight’s gaze moves from the little girl sleeping peacefully against his chest, to the woman walking by his side.

Right.

The perfect fake family with perfectly fake feelings.

-

Papa is a liar. He lies all the time. He lies about his work, he lies about her, he lies about flowers, he lies about everything.

Mama is a liar too. She lies—bad. Mama is not a good liar, but she still lies anyway.

Anya is also a liar. Anya has to lie, because if she doesn’t, maybe Papa and Mama will stop lying too. And when they stop lying, they won’t need her anymore, and she doesn’t want to be just another number again.

She’s heard enough of Papa’s lies and truths to know.

So Anya will lie and she’ll try her best at school and she’ll be friends with snotty little boys for world peace, but mostly for her Papa and Mama. She might even eat carrots too.

A yawn escapes her lips.

“Are you tired, Anya?” Mama asks, her eyes glancing at the clock on the wall. “It’s almost your bedtime, actually.”

“But Spy Wars isn’t over yet,” she whines.

Mama lets out a soft laugh. “A couple more minutes, then. It should be over soon.”

She picks up the petite girl once the show finishes, carrying her in her arms with ease. As she walks towards Anya’s bedroom, she suggests, “How about we get Loid to read you a bedtime story tonight?”

“What?” his voice exclaims from inside his room.

Mama stops in front of his closed door, giggling. “Come on, Loid. Anya’s been studying really hard lately.”

“Papa! Let’s read Spy Wars!” Anya shouts.

Papa doesn’t say anything, but Anya hears anyway. The door opens then and Papa has a frown on his face, but he still holds a Spy Wars book in his hands.

“You spoil her too much,” he mutters under his breath.

“I think we both do.” Mama laughs.

“I don’t get why this series has a cartoon, comics, and books,” Papa continues. He hits the cover of the book with the back of his hand as though that emphasizes his point. “It’s a bit much.”

Anya pumps her fist in the air. “It’s cuz Spy Wars is super cool! Right, Mama?”

“Yup, super cool.”

They walk into Anya’s bedroom next. Mama tucks her into bed, all tight and cozy, and sits on her right. Papa sits on her left and he opens to the first page of the book. He starts reading slowly, then Mama begins to read some of the words too.

Anya listens carefully. It’s quiet besides what they read off the pages, what they say out loud.

Papa and Mama lie a lot but sometimes they don’t, and Anya knows.

She closes her eyes as she listens to Papa and Mama’s voices.

That night, Anya falls asleep with a smile on her face.

——-

a/n:

I googled around for flower meanings, so there’s multiple interpretations for all the flowers I chose. I chose the ones I did for a reason tho ;)

09/25/19: added a few lines. This is what happens when u write a story in a couple hours and publish it right away

[cb-143]

Love and a Piece of Cake - Felix x fem Reader

a/n: this was written for my good friend, which doesn’t mean that any character is based off her, but simply that I wanted her to read and enjoy some quality Felix fluff. w.c.: ~4k warnings: fluff, so nothing c: but this is somewhat a coffee-shop au hhh

The tablecloth in her hands was of a white, very soft cotton. She stared at it, at the flowery pattern which decorated its surface.

It was the first week of the new year. In just a few months, they'd be celebrating their fifth anniversary – and he had gotten her a tablecloth for Christmas.

Naturally, she pretended to like it. It was not a case of her not liking it. It was indeed quite pretty. However, after so many years, was a tablecloth really all that he could find?

He hadn't put much care into choosing this present, much less any thought.

These days, Omar only watched TV and barely lend her any of his attention.

Y/N's hands fell down to her lap. Her legs had begun to hurt from the stiff position of her kneeling on the ground, but she was so immersed in the realisation of her failing marriage and love, she simply failed to notice.

"I'll be going out for a bit." She announced, stretched after standing up straight. Like a little puppy, she shook the ache out of her legs.

"Bring me some crisps on your way. We're nearly out." Omar asked of her. Y/N put on her coat.

The cold air rushed to her cheeks the second she stepped outside. She greatly welcomed it. Though she hadn't felt much warmth recently, this paining, sudden rush of cold was different and much needed.

Y/N looked left and then right. Which way should she go? It had been quite some time since she'd last taken a walk. She took out her phone to check the time and put on some music. At quarter to four, she pressed play on a slow, indie song and began to move.

She walked by trees that had grown a lot and houses that looked different since she'd last paid any attention to them. Her good friend used to live only five minutes away. Perhaps she could visit them? When did they lose contact?

As she crossed the street at a random street corner, memories filled her of the songs she was listening to. Just a few years ago, before her wedding, before their child, she'd always listen to this song – together with her neighbourhood friend and the smile that she seemed to have lost.

Walking along, she traced the brown brick wall to her left, as she always did. It had always been an ugly, run down wall. Something that made the entire town she called a home ugly, small, unattractive.

However, right this moment, more so than ever, this wall felt familiar, its cracks all the more charming. Her little town appeared to flow in all its detailed memories she'd made there.

Right by the end of the wall, where there used to be path to go down and enter the park, there now lay a small, new little shop. Omar always drove along this road to get to work. He never once mentioned it. Perhaps out of his hatred for her home town.

YN went to check it out.

Upon entering the shop, YN found herself in a café – one taken straight from a feel good novel, or a cheesy romantic film. A bell rang above her head as she opened it. Along with that sound came a hug of warmth from inside the shop.

It wasn't too warm, though meant to keep the people inside cosy and comfortable.

The café was a fairly small one. There was a counter to look at the different cakes, muffins, other baked goods. Next to that, it connected with a small shelf and a cash register on top. Behind that was the 'bar' with a very big, black coffee maker, other equipment for tea, and multiple beverages in glass bottles.

On a second glance, YN noticed that there wasn't just that one table on the left by the window, looking out to the wall, but two more in the open of the room. As well as that, a flight of stairs to the right of her lead to a handful of more tables.

The café was not as modern as the white, well-kept outside let her to believe. There were old oriental looking rugs on the floor, vases on the shelf and the windowsill. The furniture, too, was made of the same dark wood you'd find in your grandparent's house.

YN walked up to the before mentioned counter. There were croissants, cookies, pretzels, all kinds of buns – and of course, the cake.  All the cakes looked lovely. YN could see that they had each been made with care, attention to detail, and love.

There was one which YN was particularly drawn to, it looked chocolatey and sweet.

When she looked back up, she met the big, dark eyes of another woman. The woman was smiling; her hair was a wild, big ball of very pretty black curls. YN thought she looked very kind and instantaneously took a liking to the woman with the frizzy hair.

“Hey there,” the woman spoke with a bubbly, yet also gentle tone, “My name's Cherry Redgrave. Welcome to my little bakery.

“Hello, Cherry.” YN said, “This is such a lovely bakery.”

“Are you new here?” Cherry asked her, “I haven't seen you around before.” YN shook her head.

“I've lived here all my life. My name is YN. I suppose I just don't get to go out a lot.” She let out a nervous, shy chuckle. YN herself regretted that she lost so much of what her life used to be.

Cherry was about to answer when a boy came out up to the two of them – Y/N didn't notice him approach – and joined Cherry behind the counter.

“Can you make a parfait? Mrs Nicholson wants her usual.” As he spoke, Y/N had time to take a closer look at him. He looked a few good years younger than Cherry, his hair was dyed an orangey colour and there were freckles all across the space of his eyes. Just like Cherry, this boy had dark and very pretty eyes.  However, his were rather almond shaped and, judging by his Australian accent, he wasn't originally from this region. “I'll take care of this customer.” he finished and Cherry disappeared behind doors which Y/N noticed only now. When Y/N looked back at the boy, he was already looking back at her.

“I'm Felix. I heard your name is Y/N? I really like it.” Felix smiled, a smile that nearly blinded Y/N.  

“Th-thank you.” She answered quietly.

“So, Y/N, what can I get you? If I had to recommend anything I'd go with the chocolate cake – it's my favourite.”

“That's exactly what I was going to go for.” Y/N admitted. Her answer caused a sparkle in Felix's eyes. Y/N thought it came from her reply, though she wasn't sure. His eyes seemed to naturally carry a happy glow with them. It drew Y/N in – it made her want to look him in the eyes whenever he spoke to her.

“An excellent choice.” While Felix was preparing the cake (along with a generous amount of whipped cream), Y/N also asked for a coffee. Felix brought both to the empty table by the window and surprised Y/N by sitting down together with her. Only then did she see the second for in his hand.

“Forgive me for my intrusion, but,” Felix began as he pushed the coffee cup towards her. Next to the vase on the table stood the sugar and creamer, ready for her to make use of, “I'm curious. How does someone live here, for years, and go unnoticed, in a city as small as this?”

Y/N closed her hand around the sugar-cup. As she poured one, then two spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee-cup, she tried to formulate an answer.

“After I married, I didn't find the time to go out anymore.” She answered truthfully, though short. For some reason, she felt that she could trust Felix with the story of her life – something within his eyes told her that he was alright. “I gave up my job when we had a child – surprisingly, I had even less time for myself, then. I gave up everything for the household and the baby.” Felix's eyes were searching for hers, though by now she was staring deeply into her cup. She asked herself, now, when and why it all changed so drastically.

Felix listened to her well, he understood, and felt what she felt.

“And your husband,” he began, but was interrupted by Y/N.

“He doesn't seem to care. These days, I'm lucky if he does so much as look at me.” she scoffed.

“I'm very sorry to hear that, Y/N.” Felix said, “I'm sorry he doesn't appreciate you for everything you do.” He paused for a moment, his gaze drifting over the nicely decorated table. She gave up her life for her husband and this is how he treats her? “All I can say is that you're always very welcome here. Both Cherry and I, we love to interact with the town's citizens – get to know the new ones. This is a safe place, for them and for us.” Y/N looked around the room. She had noticed upon entering that this café was far from normal. Looking at the other customers there, an elderly lady bantering happily with Cherry, a mother and her two little children by another table. The atmosphere was friendly, everyone seemed to connect. Y/N felt out of place. Shuffling in her seat, she reached for her fork on the table.

“If you want to, we can chat more later, after you're done?” Felix offered. He sensed that Y/N felt overwhelmed, even slightly uncomfortable.

Y/N separated the first bite of cake with the side of her fork, but then she hesitated. She weighed out her options – would it make Felix uncomfortable to sit with her? Wouldn't she look out of place rejecting his kindness?

“I'm not sure I can eat all this cake alone..” Her voice sounded fragile, more unsure and even fake than she had anticipated. When did she become this weak?

“In that case, I'd love to stay and help you out.”

Felix and Y/N ate the – very chocolatey, as Felix had promised – piece of cake together. It was an experience filled with a comforting silence, little bits of conversation here and there, as they told each other about their lives.

It was an hour later; Y/N had waited for the end of Felix's shift. He had briefly exchanged 'hello's with the next worker. His name was Jisung and it appeared that Felix got along very well with him, as he did with everyone else. Y/N didn't talk much to Jisung, it was the time after work for most office workers, and so the café filled up quite quickly.

Felix and Y/N went outside then; Felix had offered to walk her home and after just a tad bit of discussion, she accepted his offer. It was mostly dark outside now, the street lamps already having been turned on. Y/N found the town to look absolutely wonderful at this time of the day. She reminisced about the times that she sneaked out with her friends as a teenager.

The big, charmingly ugly wall was now accented beautifully by the gentle,yellow glow of the street lamp. As they walked past, Y/N's gaze kept wandering to the wall and to the memories.

“Oh,” Felix stopped, his eyes were directed upon the sky, his plumb lips stretched into a smile that showed off his white teeth, “It's gonna snow.” Y/N followed where he was looking. The sky looked blue and slightly too bright for this time of the day, during winter, but she didn't see any snow. Felix must have sensed her doubts, as his next words were a cheeky, yet mysterious: “Trust me.”

They marched on.

“I haven't been here as long as you,” Felix spoke calmly, “but I've loved this little town ever since I came here. It's small, there's not a lot to do. No clubs, or theme parks, or anything. It's such a beautiful town though, even if it isn't obvious. The people I've met are all kind, we have local shops with honest and sincere people leading them.” Y/N looked at Felix very briefly – she had a habit to trip over nothing – but she wanted to look at him, listen to him intently.

“I know that not everyone thinks this way, more so people my age. I just find beauty in all sorts of things.” Felix continued. Y/N stayed silent to listen to him pouring out his thoughts. “It keeps me happy, it makes this world a better place... It's really not that I'm trying to make it nice. I just try to keep a positive mindset, and the pretty things come to me, just like that. They find me and I embrace them, just like you earlier.”

Y/N tried to swallow, but felt her throat closing up. His words moved her, she felt empathetic and understood how he felt.

She used to think similarly when she was his age... when, and how, did the negativity enter her life?

“However,” Felix spoke again and she realised that she had failed to give him an answer, “I know very well that not all things in life are great. I've seen bad things, I saw trouble and I know how hard some people have it.”

“Whether someone experiences hate, neglect, love – people aren't easy to understand, we influence each other even without knowing.” Felix explained himself. “Your words, even if said lightly, can affect and hurt another person a lot.” Y/N nodded.

“I wish I'd known that sooner...” He paused for a moment, in which Y/N grabbed his hand. She squeezed it. It was a reassuring gesture that came naturally to her. How odd, she thought, with Felix, everything seemed familiar, trustworthy, came natural.

“It might mean that it's not necessarily out of the person's own volition to hurt you. But it means, more so than that, that sometimes, you have to use your own words, too. Not to hurt them, but to let them know that you are hurt. Make yourself heard.” His words resonated within her. She failed to reply once more. His honesty, the way he cared and felt for her after only a few hours, the way they seemed to understand and read each other easily... Y/N felt stunned. It was the magic of this place, or no, the magic that Felix brought along with him. Felix brought back all the memories of the good times to her; he empowered her to get it back, to get her life back together.

“Often times, I wouldn't speak up. I was so scared of conflict, scared to ruin it all, you know? I thought if I just put up with it, maybe it'd get solved on its own. But it didn't... and now I regret it.” Felix stopped once more, at a moment they stood perfectly below a street lamp. His eyes were clearer, glowing. “Y/N,” his small, petite hand grabbed hers – the one that wasn't already intertwined with his. She noticed now, how soft they were, compared to her own ones. Hers were so rough from taking care of various chores and the acidic cleaning products she's had to use. “Please, speak up – stand up for yourself. You might not be ready for it yet – but now, you have me. I am your friend, I'll support you, always. Cherry, too. Y/N, everyone in this town would support you and acknowledge you.”

Her eyes burned, as if tiny papercuts were all over them as Felix's face became blurrier. Her heart felt heavy. Felix was right, she realised, she had to take action. It felt difficult, she wasn't sure how Omar would react. Yet when she searched in Felix's eyes, all she found was support and determination.

So starved of proper love and contact, Felix's closeness, his warmth, they felt sudden, yet so familiar. She was scared, but her knees felt weak, as she wanted to give into him.

The sob that was approaching was knocked out of her when Felix hugged her. Y/N blinked and the tears rolled down her cheeks. With her vision clear, she could see small, white stars fall from the sky.

Snow.

By the time they arrived at the front door of her house, the snow was falling more evenly and frequent. A small, thin layer covered the ground, all the way up to the “welcome” matt under her boots, which now felt anything but welcoming.

She took in the sight of Felix, the snowflakes in his dyed hair, the warm, friendly smile, and then, she understood how he was able to sense the snow. She stared at, and connected Felix's own little snowflakes that decorated his face and made him who he was.

“Thank you for today.” Y/N said. The keys in her hands, though icy, felt hot and way too heavy. She didn't want to go inside, to meet Omar. The child was probably sleeping by now and she feared to be alone. She didn't want to let go of Felix.

“You're always welcome to come by again.” Felix said. One last time, they hugged. This hug had less of an impact as the previous one did. However, it felt just as sincere and warm.

All of Felix did, she thought, as she watched him walk away from her. Y/N stood there, below the falling snow, until she could see him no more.

[sirsapling]

MORE TAGGED POSTS

I got tagged in a bunch more things I didn't respond to fast enough, so UNDER THE CUT THEY GO. 

I have too many things to respond to, so I won't be tagging, but consider yourself tagged if you want to do any.

IT’S THE LITTLE THINGS

Tagged by the wonderful @bardingbeedle​

Pass the happy!🌻🌿 When you receive this, list 5 things that make you happy and send this to 10 of the last people in your notifications!

Lying in warm blankets in an cold room. Bonus points for snow outside.

A fresh Buzz cut

Talking to @bardingbeedle​

Having long, passionate rambles about the Marvel Ultimates

Hashbrowns, bacon, maple syrup, maybe a pancake, and a sausage too.

Tagged by the chaotic @s-hylor​

top 3 cities you want to visit: Toronto, again. Colorado (I know its a state not a city I just want to visit ashes AND GET SNOW). And I would like to go back to Italy again. (I also want to visit, just, all of my fandom friends but I don't want to drop all their locations lol)

favorite marvel character: Ults!Steve Rogers and then Ults!Tony Stark. Not counting stony, Anthony the brain tumor, and not counting clones, Gregory Stark.

white chocolate - yay or nay?: Love it, love it, love it.

favourite board game: God Save The Queens- A board game about Bees I invented with 3 other people at University last year for a project.

how many countries have you been to: 10, I have been very luckily graced with the ability to travel to Europe with school a lot.

(Wales, France, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, America [Florida, Boston, New York], Spain, Portugal, Italy, and finally Canada.)

favorite thing to do on a rainy day: Anything indoors I might usually feel guilty about doing when its sunny. Tv or games particularly

favorite holiday: Christmas. I am a Christmas slut, call me festive sapling I LOVE Christmas.

pen or pencil: Pen. I once bought 7 in lisbon at the same time bc they were perfect and I didn't want to run out.

favourite kind of soup: Cupasoup Chicken noodle, I don't really like soups tbh, I like broths, and gravy type things I make too much of and eat like a soup (like golden Currys or korma sauces)

your typical order at a cafe or coffee shop: Caramel Frappucino or an iced Mocha. If I'm gonna pay a fuck tonne for coffee I'm gonna get a drinkable dessert.

favorite ride at an amusement park: Any slow rides that show you shit, like spaceship earth at EPCOT. I’m not really a speed dude.

the color of your sneakers: RED, red shoes are the shit folks, a good pair of red converse goes with everything.

favorite pbs show (or little kids show if you didn’t have pbs):  Uh I used to watch pokemon then winnie the pooh every single night. But little little kids show I used to watch a show called 64 zoo lane with my grandma so I have fond memories

Rules: name your favorite female characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people.

Tagged by the wonderful @ashes0909​

Natasha Romanov - Marvel Cinematic Universe

Carol Danvers - Marvel 616

Janet Van Dyne - Marvel Ultimates

Izumi Curtis - Full Metal Alchemist

Martha Jones - Doctor Who

Garnet - Steven Universe (if she doesn't count bc, space rock, Connie)

Rosa Diaz - Brooklyn 99

Ann Perkins  - Parks and Rec

Princess Caroline - Bojack Horseman

Pam Poovey - Archer

LOOK I know there was a lot of cheating here, but I don't have non marvel fandoms really, and I have a hard time remembering a lot of the TV I enjoyed.

Rules: Share your top 10 AO3 additional tags. Tagged by the mysterious @nigmuff​

look I don't know if I have enough tags to make this a justified representation, but the ones shown are v much on brand.

Fanfic trope meme

I was tagged by the delightful @capnstars​ and @crownofstardustandbone​

slowburn or love at first sight // fake dating or !!!secret dating!!! // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt/comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut AND fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it  // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or !!!!middle-aged romance!!! // time travel or isolated together // neighbours or roommates  // sci-fi or magic au // body swap or genderbend  // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane

Look guys, I’m boring. I like domestic 30-40 year olds in secret relationships. We knew this.

And now buckle the fuck down folks because I'm about to answer 50 questions about me no one is gonna stick around and read.

tagged by @bardingbeedle​ the only person who would put up with reading this much about me.

What is the colour of your hairbrush?

I have a buzz cut, I don't have a hair brush anymore.

Are you typically too warm or too cold?

Too warm. I have been warmer than most people my whole life, and I often need to sleep with a fan on.

What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

Working on a sketch for an MTH fill (update from the end of this: I have spent an hour doing this fuckin thing)

What is your favourite candy bar?

Bounty. My favourite candy is Reese’s Pieces but I like a bounty. Or like, and chocolate without fruit in it tbh.

Have you ever been to a professional sports event?

Yes, one of my parents referees Championship Football here in the UK. I have been to a few of his games. I also went to the London 2012 Paralympic closing ceremony, if that counts.

What is the last thing you said out loud?

‘Oh, this will last me a few days’ I was talking to my mother about 1/2 a can of pringles, I was lying.

What is your favourite ice cream?

Vanilla. I am boring. But the best ice cream i’ve had was a cream/milk flavoured gelato in Florence, that shit slapped. I also like cheap strawberry ice cream when no one is trying to put strawberry bits in it.

What was the last thing you had to drink?

Dinner. A spinach, banana, summer fruits and coconut yoghurt smoothie (with extra raspberries). Its my nightly dinner to cheat more veg into my body.

Do you like your wallet?

Very much. It’s about 7-8 years old, it is faded to hell but it has spiderman and a pony ride stony pin

What was the last thing you ate?

See above smoothie comment, but if that doesn't count, a sugar free mint polo.

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

Nope. I don't buy as many clothes as I want to, bc mens clothes in larger sizes are hard to find or expensive here.

The last sporting event you watched?

F1, I don't keep up but I watch a little with my dad every now and then.

What is your favourite flavour of popcorn?

BUTTER. They don't really have it here, and I don't go to movies much when in the states. But @festiveferret​ introduced me to it when we saw Ant-man and the Wasp, and much like poutine and Tim Hortons, I still crave it.

Who is the last person you sent a text message to?

My dad. 

Ever go camping?

Yes, I was a Scout. I have done enough camping to not want to do more, it was fun when I wasn't organising it.

Do you take vitamins?

Yes, but not as often as I should, and as much as my mother bothers me too.

Do you go to church every Sunday?

Nope, not even when I considered myself christian. I go only go to church for other peoples events, and I’m an agnostic now.

Do you have a tan?

I cannot tan. I just can't, I burn lobster red in 5 minutes outside without literal sun cream for BABIES

Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?

Chinese food, It was easily what taught me to like more foods also, I don't eat tomato so I can't have most pizza. I love a good garlic base/bechamel, but you can't really get that here easily (yes yes I could make my own but that ruins half the point of pizza)

Do you drink your soda with a straw?

I don't drink carbonated drinks, because its like drinking pain. The fuck is wrong with all of you.

What colour socks do you usually wear?

Various colours, but I consider red on the left, blue on the right, my lucky socks. No I don't know why, but I take all exams and interviews wearing them. It’s just a thing.

Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

I don't drive, but if I did, No. Theres a lot of questionable laws out there but Traffic laws aren't one of them.

What terrifies you?

Pfft, most things from spiders to rollercoasters. But more seriously, Being shouted at. Shout at me and I start hyperventilating, its a thing. Also not knowing if someone is mad at me. I’m not good at reading people,

Look to your left, what do you see?

The wallet shown earlier, and the sugar free polos mentioned after that.

What chore do you hate?

Vacuuming. It makes everything in my body hurt. I would rather clean toilets.

What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

@s-hylor​

What’s your favourite soda?

See above. I do not like your pain liquid. Apple juice for life.

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thrus?

Either delivery or kiosk, I don't like talking to people where possible, I often need tweaks I don't want to have to remember to repeat.

Who’s the last person you talked to?

@downeyhills​

Favourite cut of beef?

I don't generally eat beef, lamb, or most red meats. I love crispy chilly beef, but as anyone can point out its bc your generally don't feel the texture of the beef.

Last song you listened to?

Everybody Wants to Rule the World | Tears for Fears | Pomplamoose

I’m on a Pomplamoose kick, and I also just love this song anyway.

Last book you read?

Understanding Comics (The invisible Art) - Scott McCloud

Favourite day of the week?

Friday nights. The weekend is ahead and @loraneldin​ and I take to wrangling our beloved usual suspects through another week of Ults Book Club.

Can you say the alphabet backwards?

I can barely say it forwards.

How do you like your coffee?

With milk and sugar, or ultimately, in a Caramel Frappuccino bc I'm a bitch like that.

Favourite pair of shoes?

I have walking boots that don't make my flat ass feet feel like they’re dying. OR my black and green crocs (Fight me, they’re useful).

The time you normally go to sleep?

9-10 is what I'm working on, but I fluctuate depending on if I'm working on something or not.

The time you normally get up?

5-6 If I have a choice in the matter, but often 7-8 if I didn't get to bed at the right time. I’m more about getting the right hours in for my diet than time specifically.

What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets?

Sunset is the prettiest, but I like to be awake to see the sun rise.

How many blankets on your bed?

One big thick comforter, because that's the uk standard, and I get too hot otherwise.

Describe your kitchen plates

Two types, big wide white ones with a navy blue rim. They are so large I never use them, and little Navy saucer plates I use a lot.

Do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage?

I don't drink, so no. I drink apple juice or Shirley temples when I'm in pubs/bars

Do you play cards?

Sometimes, I like to teach people to play Old Maid. It’s the monopoly of card games.

What colour is your car?

Again, I do not drive. 

Can you change a tire?

I am aware I just said I don't have a car, but I do know how to change a tire. Everyone should go learn its pretty simple.

Favourite job you’ve ever had?

I have only had one job really and two job experience jobs. I did experience in a school library for a week and that was v fun and chill. I did all the jobs they had prepared for me in 2 days so I alphabetically reorganised their fiction section for the rest of the week. I LIKE ORDERING.

How did you get your biggest scar?

I no longer have a gallbladder, so I have 3 scars across my torso from that, the biggest right in the middle of my ribs. Non surgical wise I have matching scars on my knees from ripping holes in them when tripping. I have weak ankles and also I got both of those at different times.

What did you do today that made someone else happy?

I gave my spare animal crossing Iguanodon skull to a wicked artist I follow on twitter so he could complete his dino park. 

[paintmearainbow]

What Is Love ?

Love.

Love means different things to different people. Some people say love is making your partner happy and seeing them happy makes you happy . But love, is actually a figment of our imaginations. In a way, love is selfish and makes us lose our independence. You make the other person happy to keep yourself happy, and you become dependent and vulnerable. It's a somewhat like a shared dream. And until one person decides to wakeup, and that dream, albeit fun while it lasted, becomes a living nightmare

1 YEAR AGO

For Harry and y/n; sneaking out of premiers and award shows,buying tacos and eating them at 3 AM was love. For them, love was dancing in the kitchen to Elvis and baking with each other. Love was watching horror movies in makeshift tents, snacking on caramel popcorns and cans of soda; all while making fun of Harry's "those dumb bitches" in the movie. Love was falling asleep in each others arms and reading each other books. It was dressing up as Disney characters and acting out scenes from their favourite animations. It was etheral, perfect. Almost too perfect too be true

People always said "Love will fizzle out. One of you will get bored." Harry and y/n didn't listen. They burned so fast, so bright and didn't realise that their spark too, like all blazed and sparks from lighted matches, had extinguished. One second it was burning so brightly, and the next, it was gone

..............................................................................................

"When was the last time you spoke to him ?" asked y/n's sister.

" A week ago" a distraught y/n replied. "He barely has time to even talk to me on the phone, let alone show me the sights and explore the places with him via facetime"

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to close her eyes and all the memories flashed through her eyes, like a movie roll, playing over and over agai

FLASHBACK

"Y/N !" exclaimed Harry, the golden flecks in his eyes dancing with joy. Oh how she longed to see him, feel him and be with him in real life , rather than on a screen. Yet she was eternally grateful for Harry for never making her feel left out from the tour experience, he always made sure to show her around, even if it was only on a screen, while giving tour guide commentary in a horribly fake American accent.

"You're in for a treat ! We're going to see the Louvre today. Come on an enjoy the sited with Harry's Tour Experiences"

Y/n couldn't stop laughing.

Being an art fanatic, she giving Harry detailed descriptions of the art, while all he did was turn it inti a joke. His put on accent stood out when he kept saying " Oh shucks ! Here's another painting of a few women and men fighting and eating." He termed an entire style of art; renaissance art as "men and women barely dressed fighting and eating". He made a few sly comments on how y/n would look lovely in that dress. It was so wonderful and each of these virtual trips was marked with his signature end. Going to a park, and eating the same food.

His laughter was contagious and y/n loved it. She wondered how she got so lucky, so blessed to have hazza in her life.

She never thought that this love, would eventually fizzle.

end of flashback

Now she was lucky if he spoke to her for 5 minutes. Even those 5 minutes were filled with her talking and him showing least interest in what she had to say. She doubted whether he even listened.

Today, however was a low blow. It was y/n' bday. had it been any other year. Harry would've made this day perfect. They had been together since they were 18. The first year, he bought her 18 gifts on her birthday. The subsequent year, he got her 19 and so on. He would make her breakfast in bed and wake her up with showers of kisses and a "Good Morning, Happy Birthday Darling."

Today however, at 7 PM , she was yet to have him acknowledge that it was her birthday. She was yet to have any sign of news from him at all. She illusioned herself, thinking that maybe he had interviews to attend.

Her sister, however, tired with y/n's moping, said" You're coming over with your friends to Club 22 this night or else I wont speak to you. I don't want you to spend your birthday moping around"

With great difficulty, y/n was persuaded by her friends to go clubbing. The loud music, the drinks and the dim lights were never y/n's scene. Yet, for the sake of her friends, she fixed up a smile on her face and tried to enjoy, trying her best to forget than Harry's call still hadn't come.

.......

It was 10 PM and the party was in full swing. y/n's friends were drunk, so drunk. Everyone around her was laughing, drinking and joking. Meanwhile, a new disturbing thought had settled in y/n's head. What if he got into and accident ? What if he's really sick ? She was ridden with anxiety and couldn't get Harry off her mind, until that one fateful message from Nezza, her best friend, Harry's PA, through whom they had met, sent her that message. When y/n's phone lit up and she scarmbled to see the text, hoping it was Harry, she did not know it would change her life permanently.

The text was simple. "I'm so so sorry honey; you deserve to know" It was attached with a single file of pictures.

She subconciously knew what had happened. She had seen all the signs, yet chose to ignore them, not wanting to get up from her dream. The reduced duration of phone calls ultimately leading up to a call a month, the regular excuses, coming home late, half hearted kisses, they all added up. For a split second, y/n wanted to think that it was something else; maybe harry was too drunk or had passed out in a bar.

The message to forever to download. It was so slow and painfully excruciating. It was like the calm before the storm. The slow before the fast. The light drizzle before the thunderstorm. When the picture finally loaded; her heart shattered ever so fast. The pain she felt was numbing, yet somewhere in her mind, she was gald that Harry was safe.

There was Harry, his arm around the small waist of the redhead, his fingers entwined in hers. The same fingers which ran through y/n's hair multiple times, were now woven in another's hand. She thought her heart couldnt break more.

Fate was not kind to y/n.

She swiped to see the next picture, and she wasn't sure how, or whether it was even possible, but her heart further broke. Harry was kissing her in the booth, their booth, in Alessandro's the place he had her first date with y/n.

Fate had evil plans for y/n.

Tears streaming down her face, the makeup for the night ruined, y/n looked around for her sister and friends but they were nowhere to be seen. The only thing glowing right now was her glitzy dress, the one she had been forced into. Unable to take it anymore, she ordered an uber and left.

Fate wasn't kind to y/n at all

The minute she left the club, she was blinded with lights, the flashes from the camera, and the shouts from the reporters

" How do you feel about Harry cheating on you on tour ?"

"Did you expect this ? How do you react to Harry kissing a supermodel, younger than you!"

Y/n wanted to scream, but keeping her emotions in she pushed through the sea of people, got into her uber, gave her address and broke down.

She cried and cried. The uber driver tried to ask her what was wrong but she couldn't stop crying. she wanted the pain to go away. she wanted to cry. But most of all, she wanted Harry to tell her that it wasn't true and hold her in his arms and tell her it's alright.

But it wasn't. it wasn't alright. Far from it.

The next morning after an extremly broken sleep, y/n awoke. All the event's from last night wre remembered and her eyes started to water again. She switched on her phone to see the hashtag #y/ndeservesbetter and #harryandy/nareover trending. She also so 100 missed calls, voicemails and texts from Harry but chose to ignore them.

Y/n was raised to be strong. She spent most of childhood see her mom struggle to make meets end. She had seen the worst. She was strong. She went over to the mirror and saw her reflection and realised that she looked a mess. She took 3 deep breaths, washed her face, and masked her emotions, just as she did way back in high school, before she met Harry, before he changed her.

She went down and suddenly the apartment door opened. There stood the man who she loved, the man who had broken her heart, the one who still held her heart, no matter how broken it was.

He pleaded with her to forgive him. He begged, cried, said it was a one time mistake, and he regretted it, that he loved her; but y/n turned a deaf ear to his pleas. Their love had fizzled out, and she was blinded by affection not to realise it earlier. And as the saying goes " Once a cheater, always a cheater." Y/n wasn't taking any more risks. She put on a strong facade, made up her mind and left, leaving a crying Harry on the porch.

She wasn't over him, far from it. She was so broken, yet showed no signs. She had calm expresssion, yet her thoughts were chaotic. But she knew what was best and she knew this was the right thing to do. She had to take the lessons from this experience and move on, just like her mother had taught her. Dreams end, no matter how amazing it is, no matter how much you want to hold on and live it, and this, her perfect dream, had also come to an end.

So, what is love ?

A dream ? A nightmare ? Soemthing too good to be true?

Maybe all it is, is an illusion. A fairytale. Or maybe it is the truth, because truth teaches us lessons and so does love. i guess it's one of those things which just has no answers.

author's note

AND THATS A WRAP. I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING. it's something which definitely shouldnt be forgive . this the first ever imagine I've posted on my new tumblr. Please send feedback. Hope you enjoyed it. Reblog. What are your thoughts? i would love to hear them. Send requests for more imagines.

i should be studying but eh.

keep dreaming

ashu.

(here's a random B99 gif for no reason)