#i listen to people talk and interpret their sounds into typed words for a LIVING

[astropookie]

Ascendants at different degrees 🦚🦢 pt 3

hii, hope you have a beautiful day✨🧚‍♀️ i don’t have an excuse for my delay post but ty so much for all the support AAAAAAAAA😭❤️

Alexandra Levasseur

Ascendant at Gemini degree (3°, 15° or 27°)

they’re hyperactive. They have so much to say bc their mind is a work of overthinking. they have A LOT of ideas that they want to put it into words but can be difficult for them. Every type of process takes them longer or feels longer than what others will express, bc while doing it they’re thinking and thinking, it’s a cycle. Their profession could be related to “communicate” if that’s too obvious HAKDBA. but in every manner, that’s their passion, their need. making songs, advising, doesn’t matter what’s the career, the meaning or the need is present. their purpose is to put those ideas into words and those meanings the words own, reach out to more people. As I said in another post, I have a friend that has Gemini degree at his ascendant and breaths music, but I haven’t mentioned other people Ik that doesn’t represent the conventional example: she is a psychologist, she attracts people when she talks and her charisma. But it’s obvious how they struggle to communicate or it’s not easy to make themselves understood. That’s why they prefer to analyze others or to speak up through a non conventional way. I’ve seen that since ever they have difficulties with educational system, they’re too bored and intelligent -hyperactive- to adapt. what others say and how they process it is interesting…

Ascendant at Libra degree (7° or 19°)

their face is symmetrical. they’re pretty good at giving advice, comes naturally to them. they look “put together”, that they have their things to do, their schedule. they’re not direct -with my friend that have libra degree at their ascendant, I have to ask them specific questions with the objective of reading their mind. For example, I ask if they like my outfit and they’re making rare expressions and saying “YeS” with a rare tone, so I ask them “you don’t like it?” and they don’t say something clear-. I have to interpretate more than listening to a clear answer. Taking care of their appearance it’s essential, if they don’t like it, they’ll change -appearance matters-. You’ll see them owning a lot of makeup products but they look or use a “natural” look/makeup -if they use it-. They don’t try to be too “unique” or attract attention in a way that could be seen as unconventional/rare, they follow tendencies that could be seen as basic but for them it’s more than enough. growing up they could have cared too much about what others think. They could have lived or are still living without questioning themselves what are they doing with their lives, not realizing they’re part of a system and that they’re an individual. in other words, they could have had ignored how they were living, they were “vibing” but have never stopped and asked themselves “what am I doing?”. And if they had, they conformed themselves bc they didn’t want a change, to be “accepted”.

Ascendant at Aquarius degree (11° or 23°)

they’re THE bitch. they know their worth. their passion or what calls their heart is to be someone in the society we live, to make a change. people will prejudge and have a wrong idea of them: they’re loners, they’re mean and they only think about themselves, they’re egoists. only bc they don’t try to be as everyone, only bc they’re not people pleasers and they’re true to themselves, doesn’t mean they’re egoists. In reality, all their thoughts end up on the same final: to help the fcking humanity. it sounds cliche, it’s too cringe for them to admit it ⛓️🖤 since their childhood, they have been exposed to information that showed problematics in the world. they process information logically bc their surroundings taught them to, suppressing their emotions. they search for solutions logically, they could suffer for explaining what are their needs without judging themselves. they could be bad at advising bc they’re struggling to even comfort themselves. trough all their life, they have doubts or not an stable self-esteem: god complex. ik its impossible to not mention this phrase for an Aquarius placement: they have had and have difficulties feeling part of a community, to not feel lonely -not alone bc it refers to be “physical by yourself”-. They could be feeling really lonely but they sabotage themselves remaining they don’t have to feel, like a robot. they’re complimented by their style💋 unique

Ascendant at Sagittarius degree (9° or 21°)

they’re chill, they take things as they come -or that’s how they appear-. they’re calm but calm that can take a joke that’s supposed to be offensive and they’re sarcastic about it. it’s like they’re mosquitos around and they have repellent -the best example 🤩-. STILL they’re pretty sensitive. I think they try to be as calm as they seem to not worry their mother/parental figure with all the struggles they’ve had. They tried to be their sunshine: they are but as time passes they converted these behavior on a mask, hiding how they feel really. They vibe. surprisingly, they’re not chaotic or histrionic, it’s like they’re good, like “meh” good BUT sure they have their moments. change my mind, they’re or “calm you should be afraid of it” or they don’t give a shit but in a “dog that needs to be taken for a walk way to waste that energy” -as a sag placement i recognize and reaffirm 🤓☝️ i need to be taken for a walk like the bitch I am, that’s an horrible jk god-. They remind me of a taurus ascendant but they actually don seek comfort and if they do, their whole life is about going out of their comfort zone bc of their drive of wanting to know more. they actually know, even though they’re not scorpios, they know shit and let things happen naturally. in other words, they have acknowledged that if they tell people what’s happening it’s not gonna hit them as how it’ll if they live it. and they’re loyal, they’ll tell their friends or loved ones but they won’t control the situation. their life is about experiencing things instead on basing themselves on other experiences, they want to know and the diversity of perspectives is a whole galaxy to explore for them. again, it’s not about professions, it’s about their passion. people would judge and say “they’re players and blabla” could be right but that’s not the point, they experience to grow and they’re not afraid of not being perfect -and if they’re they try and they’re brave-.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

❀ Based on my personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

❀ English is not my first language.

❀ I’m not a profesional astrologer, I just love astrology and I’m willing to learn.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

[abimee]

for the xiv oc asks: 13 and 28 for all of them/as many as you feel like answering for?

what languages do they speak? how fluently?

If i can go off like the modern interpretation of them i have in my head before i start talking ff canon, then Ruyan would be the most well versed with knowing English, French, Anishinaabemowin, and a little bit of Spanish. Ruyan would only be fluent in French but his English and Anishinaabemowin would be on par with each other, and the Spanish is picked up and mostly conversational-based.

Tock would be fluent in Spanish and English verbally, but only able to read and write in Spanish. She could pick up some French words and read some sentences but can't communicate or form sentences herself.

Ryder would be the only native English speaker who can't speak any other language, but for some reason she can read Hangul, just not understand what the words translate to

Althaea is a native Irish Gaelic speaker, and would understand zero spoken english. She can however pick out pieces of FSL (Filipino sign Language) and communicate back basic ideas

for canon i specfically think Tock is the same way in that she only reads and writes in Lalafellin because her mother only taught her that, and only speaks the common Eorzean tongue because its what everyone does business in. Otherwise her house is entirely Lalafellin by nature, and even with the Echo she doesn't claim to comprehend other languages in a written sense.

Ruyan is a case where he grew up only knowing the language of his local community of Uyagiri Au'ra, and had to meticulously learn common Eorzea while living in Kugane. Therefore his Eorzean is often very tense and polite, and he doesn't know how to speak casually or any sort of Eorzean slang unless Ryder teaches him.

And since Ryder came from another world and lived in Limsa Lominsa, shes a native Eorzean speaker who speaks very casually and with slang-filled sentences, and never knew a single word of her own community's (Oronir) language. The Echo thankfully helped her hide this fact when she entered into Ruyan's world and pretended to be a random Au'ra kid whos always been living alongside Ruyan, but in return her sentences outside of common Eorzean sound tense and overly polite because the Echoe does not grant you powers of dialect and culture LOL

how do they show that they care about someone? how do they express that they don't like someone?

no joke Tock will just bite you 👍 She has many ways of showing her dislike to people but the most common tell is that she will go out of her way to bite someone, especially on their hand because she's a lalafell so she often gets touched/petted on her head. She'll also give you weird, obvious stares and not listen to a word you say if she doesn't like you, or interupt you to announce mundane things like that shes hungry or tired. She will also literally just say ''i dont like you'' if you try speaking to her

her love language is the total opposite though, she loves giving random bullshit to people to show her love, like wet sardines she caught or a cool rock she found, or some grass she grabbed off the ground walking by. She'll climb into your lap or grab your hair as well, or specifically disturb your work so that she can eat an orange with you. she's very ''doing things with you/giving you things'' orientated when she shows her affections :]

Ryder is similar where she will just start antagonizing you if she doesn't like you, intentionally riling you up and saying just the meanest things to your face. brushing you off, mocking you, teasing you, etc. She's a huge bully when she doesnt like someone, but on the other side is very much an ''act of service'' type when it coms to those she does love.

shes TERRIBLE at being affectionate or giving compliments, but she'll make you dinner or carry you to bed or wash your clothes when youre asleep as her show of care. She's especially not good with honest, sincere touches, but she's willing to give hugs if it helps the other person feel comforted. She's definitely on the side of ''playfully bully you if she likes you, and awkwardly comforts you when youre sad'' type of affectionate person

Ruyan has horrible problems with affection. downright i could write 900000000000000000000 words about this because its 90% of her lore about how love and affection is something that tortures her every day. Love and affection and the idea of someone caring for her scares the shit out of her so for a good chunk of her life there was no way to differenciate hate and like from her because she'd bottle any and all emotions up and just try to ignore it forever

However its obvious to Ryder (and later Chefant) that Ruyan's little tells for affection is definitely relient on conversation; if Ruyan respects and enjoys you she will often be moe conversive and listen to you, while she's way less likely to listen or be attentive if she doesn't. She lets her mind wander when someone she doesnt really care about is talking, but will be active in a conversation and often speaking a lot more if she cares for you. This might come as like a no-brainer, but my other ocs like Althaea and Tock will often not ''pay attention'' during conversations and do other things like play with a toy or walk around a room, but theyre still listening. However for Ruyan she will drop ANYTHING and stand RIGHT next to you, look you dead in the eye, and not blink for the entire conversation because shes paying attention to everything youre saying and reacts accordingly

Althaea has no hate tells, but shes SUUUUUUPER affectionate and physical. She kisses all her friends and hugs/jumps on them as a greeting, and will often lay in peoples laps/hold their hands/ rest her chin on their shoulder/ lay across them as a sign that she really likes you. She's very handsy with anybody she finds pleasant to be around, but also respects your space if you ask her firmly not to touch you/do certain things ( in my mind i think Themis finds physical contact unpleasant, not for a specific reason and not Althaeas, just the general concept) so Althaea will make sure to keep at least a two-foot distance from him and never touch/hug him, but sometimes he will allow her to kiss his forehead if hes feeling agreeable on certain days.

Otherwise althaea LOVES physical intimacy. She sleeps tucked in bed with Hades holding onto him like koala bear babies do with their parent for no other reason than she wanted to have a bestie sleepover and clings like a motherfucker in her sleep

like she has no distinction between like, intimate touch seen as romantic or platonic so she'll sleep in bed with her best friends or even just a vague aquantince. She loves hugs and kisses and sitting in peoples laps especially. she's basically super easy to read with ''if i want to sit in your lap it means you mean the world to me". Sometimes she reverses it and makes her boyfriend sit in HER lap though. she just loves touching and holding others

[legalkimchi]

The thing that makes me want to quite content creation isn't the hate comments, 'cancel culture,' or the long hours of work for small gains.

It is the fact that quality and substance don't matter.

That you can gain an audience saying things with a true lack of understanding. this is the thing that keeps me up at night. I agonize about certain topics because I don't feel i have the educational or experiential background to do a topic justice, and some rando online will spout something like a slogan without thinking it through. and others will cheer. I'm guilty of this as well. i like some folks because they are entertaining. but then i think of all the content creators i don't like because i am not coming from a place of ignorance. i think about how i get upset when folks sound correct but get things so wrong. Like when someone streams or makes a video discussing the law, with how complicated and nuanced it is, and i see them getting things wrong. or when folks make statements about international politics. I sit and wonder, "have you thought that through?" I was sitting in a stream where someone said something bad about one group for being powerless, then complained about another group for being a bully. But the situation was one group did what the content creator wanted the other group to do, but both are bad. there was no win.

politics is tricky. Because on one hand, we should all have a say and education is a gatekeeping infrastructure.

However, we don't care about that. show me a topic and i will show you two content creators. one will have knowledge and understanding, the other will have a following. you don't gain a following from nuanced analysis or thoughtful investigation. You get it from flashy visuals, hot takes, and making easy to digest statements. but it makes me not want to create content because i don't like that type of content.

People in political youtube or twitch make statements no one in my political science classes would have said out loud. not because it was too "real" for us to hear, but because it is verifiably ridiculous and everyone would have justifiably laughed at you.

yet those folks make a living feeding off the audience's collective ignorance. they get the subs/patreons because they are making counter-cultural statements against the hegemony. they will use academic phrases in the wrong manner to sound more knowledgable. if i have to listen to one more video essay where someone missuses "intersectionality" i will fucking scream. I don't care how many marginalized communities you are a part of, you clearly didn't do the reading. you saw a word, and use it as you interpreted it, not as intended.

I see folks on the left get so full of themselves when discussing how the "Right ignores and belittles experts" then turn around and watch a video of folks talking for about half an hour on a topic they learned about exclusively through wikipedia, or if you're lucky, one book. there are folks out there dedicating their lives to these subjects, writing amazingly insightful work, that get less views than any of my videos, much less the titans of social media. a failed programer, drop out, or just someone with a webcam.

so if you ever see me quit content creation... That's why. read more books, get information from more places, follow experts, and stop thinking everyone who is opposing you is some tool of "the elite" or a "psyop" or whatever nonsense people spout on twitter.

[thisaintascenereviews]

Disturbed - Divisive One of my least favorite things in rock and heavy music these days are the butt-rock / hard-rock bands that insist on having extremely conservative lyrics in their music these days. You got Kid Rock, Falling In Reverse, and Five Finger Death Punch, among other bands, putting out very tone deaf, whiny, and frankly distasteful songs with lyrics about being “woke” (which is just a conservative’s way of saying “anyone that isn’t a straight white guy), being “canceled” (which isn’t even a thing, it’s really being held accountable for the things you say and do), or any other myriad of issues. I mean, Five Finger Death Punch put out an anti-vaccine song a couple of years ago, and everyone gave them a bunch of crap for it, rightfully so. Some of these bands and artists are very outright with what they’re trying to say, because they want to appeal to a certain demographic (to be honest, they already had that demographic, and they know that, so they’re just keeping them happy), but what’s worse to me is when one of these bands is purposely vague in their messaging, ultimately leaving their conservatism up for interpretation. That’s the case of the new album from Disturbed, entitled Divisive, and boy, is this album something all right. Disturbed, if you don’t know and/or living under a rock, is a nu-metal / alt-metal band that was very popular in the early-00s, especially with the song “Down With The Sickness,” and only within the last few years had a bit of resurgence with their very viral cover of Simon & Garfunkel’s “The Sound Of Silence.” I’ve only listened to their debut album from 2000, The Sickness, and that’s it, because I never listened to nu-metal as a kid, so I never had my angry white boy phase. I was into emo, pop-punk, and metalcore as a kid, but I digress. Let me be clear with everyone right now: if this were a bigger release week, I would not care about this album. I almost debated on not even listening to this, because I just have no desire to listen to Disturbed in 2022, but I thought I might as well, just because it would give me an excuse to talk about them, since I reviewed The Sickness years and years ago. I really like that album, as it’s a lot of dumb fun, but Divisive is an interesting album, and I don’t know if I mean that in a good or bad way. The elephant in the room, especially with my opening thoughts there, is that the lyrics on this record are very much up for interpretation in the worst way. The title seems to allude to the idea that the United States is very divided these days, and you can’t have an opinion on anything without it being divisive in some way, shape, and form. A lot of this LP goes into that, including ideas of people needing to “wake up,” people believing lies, people mindlessly hating everyone or each other, and very cliched and vague topics that conservatives can appeal to. It seems like Disturbed is very upset by the idea of “cancel culture,” and the idea of people being shut down for their thoughts alone (even though people just saying racist and homophobic things is worth being shut down over, but these types of people don’t get that, for some reason, and think they say can whatever stupid thought they have in their heads), and it just feels vague on purpose. The lyrics on this album mean absolutely nothing, but it’s because they say all of these buzzwords that don’t amount of anything. Just look at the title track, for instance, it’s all a bunch of random words that say something kind of vague. Because of that vagueness, conservatives can listen to that, and go, “Yeah, he’s speaking what I’m thinking, so I agree with that,” even if that’s not what he meant. I have nothing against vague lyricism, because interpretation is great. It helps people look at pieces of music, literature, and film in their own way, and when the meaning to something isn’t very obvious, it’s cool dissecting it and analyzing it, especially when people have different meanings for things. It’s when someone is vague on purpose, especially when it comes to wanting to say something extreme, that it bothers me. I don’t think Disturbed want to alienate everyone, but it seems like their members are conservative, at least to some degree, so by making their lyrics as pointless and as vague as possible, it makes their sound a bit more digestible and profitable. You can tell they want to say things about cancel culture, being “woke,” and all of that stupid conservative garbage they spew, but if they do that, they know damn well no one is going to listen to their music anymore, so they’re being purposely vague about it. It’s unfortunate that the lyrics are this bad, because the rest of the album isn’t that bad at all. The vocals are pretty good, as David Draiman is one of the more interesting vocalists of the nu-metal scene from the 00s, but the music itself is a lot of fun. They’re back to doing what they do best, and it’s just a fun little nu-metal / alt-metal album, that only clocks in at 38 minutes. It’s a very short album, and it’s easier to digest, but I can’t get past the lyrics on this thing. They’re really bad, and it’s not even that they’re saying anything outright, it’s what they’re implying, and what they want to say that really gets under my skin. Even then, this album isn’t anything special, it’s just a generic nu-metal album, especially for Disturbed standards. I’m sure this album will have its fans, but like I said in the beginning, if this was a bigger week, and this came out even just a couple of weeks ago, I wouldn’t be talking about this album, and for good reason.

[cuddlytogas]

here's an ofmd pet peeve for ya, building on what just spat out of my queue (on Buttons, and Scots representation, and how the subtitles are wrong for "glaikit")

I am 99% certain that this subtitle is incorrect:

now, I am but a filthy Australian, so hey, maybe it's a Kiwi thing. but I am so sure that what he says is closer to "the fuck?", and most likely an aborted "do you" / "what do you" / "what are you talking about" verbalisation. more like: "D'yo-- fuck? No it's not."

like, there is nothing in his cadence that seems (to me, at least) to imply that he's addressing or insulting Izzy. it's more like a reactive expletive. the first syllable is very short, short enough that it rings more like a cut-off exclamation than a full half-word. and the briefest pause after "fuck" sounds much more like a redirection ("--") than a natural pause (","). and it's in a show that emphasises natural speech patterns in both accents and the frequent use of improvisation, so it's not like it'd be unusual to have a muddled, natural sound coming out in a moment like this.

anyway, it is driving me crazy, because I've seen people latch onto "dickfuck", but I heard something so distinct that I didn't even know what they were talking about at first. like, is it really just me???? i can't be the only one not hearing that??

but hey, maybe i'm wrong. after all, I still keep hearing "I think I'd li-like that" rather than "I think I might like that" in the bathtub scene in 1x06...

[erodasfishtacos]

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k 

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

**

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

[isoldmysoultojonahclemence]

[Army Version] Ikerev Name Analysis!

Lancelot Kingsley: 

The name Lancelot means “servant.”

OK so at first I was really confused because he’s the King of Hearts, which is pretty much the farthest thing from a servant. But then I realized that it could be alluding to how he was forced to work for Amon for so many years. 

Or this could also be a reference to the Arthurian legends, in which Sir Lancelot was said to be the greatest of the Knights of the Round Table.

The surname Kingsley means “a king’s meadow.”

Given that the entire Kingsley line are Kings, this is a very fitting name for them. Also Kingsley is similar to the word kingly, which definitely describes Lancelot. 

Jonah Clemence: 

The name Jonah means “dove/pigeon.”

The two birds are often seen as symbols of peace. They’re also often seen as messengers.

I wouldn’t necessarily associate Jonah with peace, since he’s kinda rash and very quick to anger.

But something else worth acknowledging was that his little brother ended up joining the Black Army, and the symbol of the Black Army is a raven. Doves and ravens are usually considered opposites, which could stand for how the brothers ended up on opposite sides.

The surname Clemence means “merciful.”

It seems a bit ironic to me, since the Queens of Hearts aren’t really known for their forgiveness (the original Queen chopped off people’s heads without listening to their reasons and Jonah literally held a grudge against Sirius for 14 years and counting). 

Edgar Bright:

The name Edgar means “rich/prosperous” and “spear.”

Maybe the “rich/prosperous” part is about the Bright family wealth? They’re the third most important family in the Red Territory, so you’d think they’d be pretty rich. And then they’ve also assassinated people for profit before as well.

And the spear is a weapon, so it probably points toward how Edgar was weaponized to be the perfect assassin. 

The surname Bright means “bright” (obviously).

I thought it was kinda ironic, just like Clemence, because obviously the duty of the Jack of Hearts is anything but bright. 

Zero: 

The name Zero means “void.”

I know that this was just the number he was given to differentiate him from the rest of the human experiments.

But I still thought that “void” kinda describes Zero around the time he just left the Magic Tower, because he doesn’t have anywhere to go anymore. And even when he joined the Red Army, there’s still soldiers who disrespects him because he wasn’t from the crimson lineage.

Kyle Ash:

The name Kyle means “narrow; strait.”

A strait, in case you didn’t know, is a narrow passage body of water connecting two other, larger bodies of water.

I interpreted Kyle as the strait and the Red and Black Armies as the two larger bodies. Since he’s a doctor and his primary goal is to save lives, he can act as a sort of connector between the two territories. 

The surname Ash means “ash tree.”

Ash trees are said to have protective and healing properties, which makes sense since the Ash family are all doctors.

Ray Blackwell:

The name Ray means either “king” or “counsel.”

The “king” part is obvious, given that he’s the King of Spades.

And the word “counsel” can refer to how wise he is. He’s able to give good advice to people and run an entire Army at just 24 years old. 

Or, the “counsel” part could also refer to how the rest of his Army supports him. Fenrir is his best buddy who would absolutely die for him, Sirius is always ready with some sort of strategy, Luka is practicing with his massive sword, and Seth is insanely strong. I personally believe that Ray wouldn’t be such an excellent King without their support, and he also acknowledges it himself.

The surname Blackwell means literally “a black well.”

The “black” part probably refers to the Black Territory, which he is the King of. I have no idea what the “well” part could refer to, though. Maybe it just sounds really cool?

Sirius Oswald:

The name Sirius means “burning/glowing.”

The “burning/glowing” part could refer to the person he is deep down inside, as opposed to the cool and mature exterior he usually tries to upkeep.

Also, his family owns a flower shop called “Canis Major” and his siblings are named Furud/Zeta, Wezen, Mirzam, and Aludra, which are all stars in the constellation of the Canis Major.

Given that he’s the oldest in his family (and also bc he’s a suitor), it makes sense that he would be named after the brightest star in the sky.

The surname Oswald means “god” and “power.”

These are both extremely powerful words, so it’s probably to be expected that he would canonically be the strongest suitor in terms of fighting ability.

Luka Clemence:

The name Luka means “bringer of light.”

Honestly I squealed when I saw the definition for this name bc it fits Luka so much! He brings light into everyone’s lives, but he just doesn’t realize it himself.

Also the Clemence bros both seem to have names related to heaven? Luka literally means bringer of light and doves are pretty much the symbol of heaven as well.

I’ve already talked about the surname “Clemence” in the Jonah section, so I won’t put it here again!

Fenrir Godspeed:

The name Fenrir means “fen-dweller.”

A fen, if you didn’t know, is a “low and marshy or frequently flooded area of land” (thanks Google!) I can’t really fathom why Fenrir is named after that, so perhaps a more accurate interpretation is that his name is also connected to Fenrir the Wolf, from Norse mythology, who’s supposed to eat the Sun and Odin when Ragnarok rolls around.

Basically, Fenrir the Wolf is incredibly strong and chaotic, and both of those qualities also belong to Fenrir the human!

(also this means he’s the son of loki now lmao)

The surname Godspeed means “good wishes, specifically to someone who is beginning a journey.”

If I remember correctly, one of the two keywords describing Fenrir is “lucky star” or something along those lines. So a word meaning wishing someone good luck before starting a journey fits perfectly with Fenrir’s luckiness trait.

Seth Hyde: 

The name Seth means “appointed.”

If you think about how the Magic Tower purposefully stationed him in the Black Army, then the whole “appointed” thing makes sense.

Also, this could refer to Set, the Egyptian god, who is known as the god of chaos, and he’s commonly associated with evilness. I guess that Seth’s connection to the Magic Tower and all the “work” he has done for them makes him “evil” as well, so maybe the game creators decided to name him after Set to hint at his true associations.

The surname Hyde means “someone living on a hide (which is a type of measurement) of land.”

As with Fenrir’s name from above, this doesn’t really make any sense, so I interpreted this name as originating from “Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” instead. So, if you didn’t know, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde are different egos in the same person, and Mr. Hyde is supposed to be the “evil” one.

(Cybird’s really playing it up with the “evil” theme in Seth’s name geez...)

I suppose this can point towards how Seth is a different person inside than what he’s like on the outside. The “outside Seth,” who is outgoing and friendly, corresponds with the good-natured Dr. Jekyll, while the “inside Seth,” who is cunning and devious, corresponds with the ruthlessness of Mr. Hyde.

Part 2 here.

[sky-berrie]

How would the batboys react to a female SO with Paranoid Personality Disorder?

Hi there!

Thanks so much for the ask. I hope this is okay :)

-Sky

Bruce

As a person living with paranoid personality disorder, you might be terrified that people are out to harm you. Your place of residence, Gotham city, does nothing but exacerbate your paranoid thought patterns, since criminals run rampant through the streets. It’s hard to distinguish between paranoid thoughts and substantiated concerns. Is that sketchy person with the full face covering one of Black Mask’s False Face Society members sent to abduct you, or are they just a conscientious citizen taking extra precautions to avoid contracting or transmitting the COVID virus? Being in a state of constant fear prevents you from living your life to the fullest. Luckily, your S/O happens to be Batman in his free time.

Bruce eases your mind just with his presence. He’s probably the smartest, strongest, and most resourceful person you know and being with him makes you feel safe. Bruce is the kind of person who you’d blindly listen to during an emergency – if he told you to jump out of a burning plane, you’d do it without a second thought because he’s never let you down in the past and you’re confident that he never will in the future. If you’re feeling fearful in public, Bruce will grab your hand or put an arm around you securely and soothingly whisper in your ear that he’s right here and there’s nothing to worry about. Having paranoid thoughts means that it’s difficult to reason with you, so you probably aren’t convinced that there is no threat, but you do experience some relief from his soft touch and gentle words. He’ll ask if you want to leave and he’ll take you to your safe space. If you’re feeling fearful in private, Bruce will hold you close and rub your back to reduce your anxiety. If you’re by yourself and start to have those racing, panicked paranoid thoughts, you can always call Bruce. He’ll drop whatever he is doing and come take care of you.

Bruce will teach you self defense to help you feel more comfortable around people. He won’t arm you with any dangerous weapons because he doesn’t want an innocent person to get hurt if you get spooked. Bruce will ask if you want to move into the manor since it has strong security and comes with several vigilantes. If you would rather stay at your own place, Bruce will install a variety of safety systems to make you feel protected. He’ll even spend most nights at your place so you can sleep peacefully. Overall, Bruce is like your lifeline. He’ll know just what to do to help you through your difficult thoughts.

Dick

Dick is a social butterfly who’s had his fair share of romantic partners in the past so it’s natural for you to feel jealous when he spends time with other people. Dick will adamantly declare that he’s with you and only you. At first you might try to ignore the prickly feeling of jealousy because you don’t want to come off as a possessive S/O, but the clues accumulate and suggest that he’s cheating on you. For example, he’ll rarely spend the night with you. You’ll catch him sneaking into bed at ungodly hours of the morning. When confronted, he’ll make up an excuse that he just went to get a drink of water or use the bathroom. You’ll spot bruises scattered over his chest knowing you definitely did not leave those there. He’ll play it off as a gym injury.

When you raise your suspicions, Dick is hesitant to explain. You take this as confirmation of infidelity and you’re ready to walk out. At that point, he has no choice but to come clean about his secret identity as Nightwing. That sounds farfetched and you likely think he’s a pathological liar. Finally, Dick proves it to you and explains that he didn’t want you to be dragged into his dangerous nightlife. While you accept that as the truth, you’ll always wonder if he’s hiding more secrets. Furthermore, you’re probably pissed that he was gaslighting you. Dick will do everything he can to make it up to you. He’ll apologize profusely and in extravagant ways, be more transparent, and shower you with excessive love and affection. It might take a long time, but eventually Dick will worm his way back into your good graces.

It doesn’t take long for the green-eyed monster to rear its’ ugly head again. Now that you’re in the know, you’re hyperaware of the attractive vigilantes that Dick works with and it’s emotionally draining to be jealous all the time. You don’t want to be the type of person who tries to control their partner’s life, but when the suffering becomes too much to bear, you might ask him to stop seeing certain people. Dick will calmly assure you that there isn’t anything going on with any of his vigilante friends. If that doesn’t appease you, he’ll suggest that you hang out with the team and get to know them. He hopes that you’ll see that there aren’t any romantic feelings between them. Whatever you do, please don’t force him to choose between you and his hero life. It will tear him apart.

Jason

Trust is very important to Jason. He doesn’t trust many people as it is and needs a S/O who he can trust wholeheartedly and who will trust him in return. He believes that this relationship will fail if you don’t have confidence in each other. He’ll take it personally if you distrust him. Jason will get defensive and frustrated if you accuse him of being unfaithful, especially if you don’t have a shred of evidence to support your claims. He’ll be offended and deeply hurt that you think so negatively of him but once he’s had some time to cool off, he’ll be able to process everything more objectively. He’ll accept that you can’t control the way you feel. You’d explained it to him once that you do trust him, but there’s a separate voice in your head that tells you otherwise. Jason won’t give up on you though. He’ll come up with a proposition - he’ll agree to install a tracking app on his phone so you can monitor his whereabouts if you’ll promise to work on learning to trust him, whether it be via professional psychotherapy or reading self-help books.

On the other hand, if Jason is one of the only people you trust, he’ll be elated to know that you two have built such a strong connection. It’ll be easy to confide in him because he’ll gladly listen to your worried thoughts with no judgement. At first, he’ll reassure you that nothing bad is going to happen to you – he’s Red Hood and nobody is going to pull anything on you if they value their life. Eventually he’ll realize that trying to reason with you isn’t helpful so he’ll stick to active listening when you’re experiencing paranoid thoughts.

However, if Jason is fresh out of the pit and emotionally unstable, you two will probably bond over your mutual distrust and cynicism about the world. Although you and Jason will get along exceptionally well, it’s possible that your irrational thoughts may feed each other’s paranoia and exacerbate the feelings of mistrust and suspicion. If you find yourself unable to let things go, feel free to vent away when you’re with Jason. He is the king of holding grudges, so he’ll probably support you and even join in on trash talking that person with you when you’re angry. Learning to forgive and forget is something you and Jason can work on together. In a way, it brings you two closer together since you understand each other on a level that others can’t begin to comprehend.

Tim

Tim very compassionate and patient; however, he’s afraid of triggering you so he’s often walking on eggshells around you. He just wants to be the perfect supportive S/O for you and doesn’t want to mess up the relationship. His worst offense (in your eyes) is using ambiguous language that lends to multiple interpretations. For example, he might innocently compliment your clothes/hair/makeup and you might assume that he only likes you for your appearance or that he’s implying that you’re vain for wanting to look nice. The moment you shoot him daggers, he’s realized his mistake and starts to furiously backpedal. He tries to explain himself, but he usually ends up digging himself a deeper hole. Eventually, he gets better at expressing his thoughts carefully so that they can’t be misconstrued.

Tim diligently tries to learn your other triggers and how to help. When you’re stuck in a cycle of paranoid thoughts, Tim will get you to focus on what’s real instead of trying to make you see sense. He’ll help you relax by walking you through breathing exercises, playing soothing music, or whatever strategies you find helpful.

Tim isn’t proud of this, but he’s resorted to deceiving you when necessary. For instance, if you’re experiencing paranoid thought patterns and want to be alone, Tim will hesitantly leave, but he’ll probably secretly monitor you only because he’s worried about your safety. If you’re afraid that others are reading your mind, he might pretend that he invented an anti-mindreading helmet to ease your suspicions. He knows you would feel betrayed if you ever found out about his dishonesty, but he reasons that your safety and comfort are more important in the moment.

Damian

Arguments with Damian are brutal. No matter how insignificant the disagreement is, Damian refuses to back down when he believes he’s right. Paired with your own stubbornness and contentiousness, these quarrels generally result in an impasse. Eventually your anger subsides and the depression sinks in. You might assume that Damian doesn’t love you anymore and that fight was the end of your relationship. Maybe you start packing your belongings to move out right away. Damian comes up behind you and asks what you’re doing. When you tell him that you’re leaving because he doesn’t want you anymore, he’s instantly remorseful. He takes your bags out of your hands and proceeds to pull you in close as he tells you how much he loves you. He assures you that two people can disagree and still love each other.

Damian doesn’t want to argue with you and he certainly doesn’t want to see you upset so he’ll always excuse himself before the argument becomes too heated. He hopes that some time apart will allow you both to calm down and come to a compromise, but it’s never that simple. Most of the time, you’ll need a third-party mediator, like a therapist, to resolve your dispute. The act of seeking out a therapist will be a huge accomplishment for your relationship. Damian likes his privacy and doesn’t want someone else in his business and you might be afraid to share intimate information with a stranger in fear that it will be used against you. Nevertheless, you both want to make this relationship work, so you’ll continue to seek help.

Damian has a habit of being blunt. He doesn’t mean to criticize or insult you – in his mind, he is only stating the facts or his opinion for the purpose of helping you improve. Despite his goodhearted intentions, it’s easy for you to take his comments the wrong way and perceive it as a personal attack. If he sees that his remarks have upset you, he’ll acknowledge all the positive aspects of your performance. Still, you might cling to the disparaging comments and ignore the praise. Going forward, Damian will try to be more encouraging and constructive and will only express feedback if you invite him to do so.

[randomrosewrites]

Hi! Can i request chaeya comforting readerfor a stressed day 😣❤ thanks!

a/n: I didn't know if you wanted a poly relationship, so I kept it open to interpretation. I also had a bad day recently, and wrote this to help deal with that.

A rough day

Pairing: Childe X GN reader X Kaeya Summary: Being involved with Childe and Kaeya come with their own stresses, but the two are always there to help you when your days don't happen to be the best. Words: ~1K Tags: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, no childe you can't kill people because your s/o is upset.

Being involved with a sly Captain and a Fatui Harbinger comes with it’s own stresses on top of your own. Though through communication, time, and patience, the three of you have found a nice balance in your lives.

Depending on who’s free on those bad days, the way they comfort you is different.

Kaeya’s the type to distract you, taking your mind off the stress by making you laugh. Whether it’s at the expense of himself or Childe, he’ll do anything. Though if it’s clear you’re not in the mood, listening to your grievances over alcohol works too.

Childe’s the one to coddle you. Food, gifts, cuddles, as well as promises to kill whoever was causing you problems, he’s not leaving your side until he knows you’re ok.

Childe jumps as the door slams open, startling him so much that his soup sloshes over the edge of the bowl and onto his lap. He curses, setting the bowl down on the table and wiping the scorching liquid away using a cloak strewn over the couch.

There’s shuffling and clattering from the entrance hall before you trudge into the room, shoulders slouched and a grimace on your face. You stop mid-step when you see him.

“Rough day?” he asks with a teasing smile. When you don’t respond with a sarcastic laugh or a half-hearted glare, he drops it. Something must have really gone wrong if you can’t even respond to his quips.

“Yes,” you croak. Childe’s heart aches at how defeated you sound. “Sorry I slammed the door…”

He wipes the back of his hand on the cloak (It’s Kaeya’s, he realizes. Oops.) and stands up. “It’s alright. I made some soup earlier. Would you like some?”

You nod. He takes your hand and leads you to the kitchen. You sit by the counter as Childe ladles soup into a bowl. The delicious aroma of crab and vegetables flows through the air. Kaeya hates the stuff, and always dramatically gags whenever he catches Childe in the kitchen making it. Good thing he isn’t home now to complain.

You mumble a thanks when Childe sets the bowl down in front of you, keeping your eyes down as you spoon the dish little by little into your mouth. Childe grabs his bowl from the couch and settles in a chair across from you. The two of you eat your soup in relative silence.

After a few minutes of silent eating, Childe ventures, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

To his horror, a few tears slip from your eyes and into your soup. “Life is hard, Childe.”

He gets up from his seat and opens his arms, knowing better than to force himself onto you to make things worse. You throw yourself into his embrace, quietly hiccuping against his collar. Childe rests his chin on your head as his hand strokes the plane of your back, whispering soft reassurances.

“Ugh. Work was so boring today. I swear, why do-” A sudden voice from the doorway makes the two of you jump. Kaeya stops in the middle of the doorway, seeing the scene play out before him. (He always had that bad habit of returning home without making a sound. He’s scared you and Childe half to death more than his fair share of times.) Childe gives Kaeya a look, hoping the man would know how to read the situation.

“Hey, hey,” Kaeya coos, dropping his bags on the ground to rub your shoulders. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“Bad day.” Childe says solemnly. A choked cry escapes from your throat, muffled by his shirt.

Kaeya shushes you softly, pressing against your back and wrapping his arms around your waist. Oh, there, there. It’s alright now.”

They let you stay there for as long as you want. Despite their cooler visions, they’re both very warm. When you finally pull away from Childe’s chest and look him in the eyes, he smiles warmly, brushing wet tears and hair from your face.

“How about you have a rest in the bedroom, hm? I’ll clean up here.”

You nod. Kaeya unravels himself from your back, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll take you there. It reeks of seafood...”

You laugh a little. Childe rolls his eyes as you two leave the kitchen. Kaeya’s arms remain firmly in place all the way to the bedroom. He sits you on the bed, quickly srtripping his boots and sharp bits of his uniform off before helping you change into fresh, comfortable clothes.

“Stay please,” you whisper, tugging on his sleeve.

He kisses your forehead, heart swelling when your eyes flutter. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Kaeya pulls back the covers and slides in, letting you curl up against him. He rubs his fingers at the nape of your neck, massaging the tense muscle there until your eyes flutter close.

A few minutes later, the bedroom door opens and Childe enters with a glass of water.

“Drink,” He offers gently, holding it to your lips for you to sip. He sets it on the dresser once you’re done, slipping into his spot on the bed. His arm weaves its way across your chest. arm weaving its way across your chest.

“Feeling ok?” he asks, settling his head against your shoulder.

You hesitate, gripping Kaeya’s shirt. “I’m alright.”

Childe kisses your cheek. “Good. We’re here if you ever wanna talk about it. Get some rest.”

Nested between the two people you love very much, you find comfort. With Kaeya’s soft hair ticking your nose and Childe’s warm breath on the back of your neck, you feel at ease, free from your worries and stresses that wait for you outside in the world.

[bbangsoonie]

to my ex (best friend)

member: juyeon genre: fluff?? word count: 2,175 synopsis: thanks to kevin’s tiktok obsession, you end up sending out a google form to all of the people you used to call your best friends. one response brings back forgotten memories and feelings.

“I can’t believe I’m stuck with the Canada boys for another 4 years,” you jokingly groaned.

Today was officially move-in day and the beginning of your college life. After roughly unpacking in your dorm room, you went over to Jacob and Kevin’s room to hang out. Jacob had his guitar out and was playing random chords for you to hum along to. Kevin, on the other hand, was glued to his phone. TikTok had been his new obsession and he was constantly watching the endless feed of videos.

“Hey, we are the iconic trio,” Jacob insisted.

“Wow Eric is basically a TikTok star now,” Kevin commented as he showed you two the video that popped up on his For You page. “This kid is stuck on straight TikTok though.”

Jacob laughed, although he was unsure of what that exactly meant. Knowing this, you chuckled at his efforts to appease his roommate.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Kevin tugged at your arm in an urgent matter. “Can we also do that Google form trend?”

“Uhh which one?” you asked.

“The one where you send out a Google form to your ex-crushes or ex-friends,” he turned to Jacob to further explain. “So basically it’s a questionnaire either revealing your past feelings or confronting what happened between old friends.”

“I don’t know, man. Our high school years were pretty vanilla. We didn’t even have that many crushes,” you shrugged.

“Hmm I mean we did have that huge friend group freshman year. It’s a shame it kinda fell apart as time went by,” Jacob reminisced.

You were reminded of the people you once considered to be your best friends. It was you and twelve other boys, which should’ve hinted at the inevitable end. The beginning of the end started with Hyunjoon transferring to a different school. Then, as you all grew older and high school drama kicked in, you were the topic of many rumors. People didn’t understand—or like—that you were the only girl in an all male friend group. Girls called you all sorts of names and spread ridiculous lies about you that spread to neighboring schools.

No one in the group had any bad blood with each other. Life just pulled you in different directions and you simply grew apart. Some joined the dance team, which consumed most of their time. Some joined varsity teams and focused on getting a sports scholarship. Some became trainees and lost contact with everyone. Some, like you and the Canada boys, became busy with college applications. Everyone had their own reasons and there were no hard feelings.

“Wouldn’t it be fun to finally find out what they all think? Get closure before we start our journey as college students?” Kevin asked, eagerly.

“I guess,” you agreed.

“Alright! Then we’ll play rock paper scissors to choose who has to send them out,” Kevin declared.

Your unlucky streak, without fail, won you the embarrassment honor of writing and sending the form to all your former friends. You grumbled, displeased at the fact that you were now the scapegoat fulfilling Kevin’s curiosity. Nevertheless, you searched through your contact list to find everyone’s phone numbers and sent them the link, hoping that no one changed their number.

By the next day, you received responses from all 10 of them. The trio reconvened in Jacob and Kevin’s room to review the answers. The first few were essentially what you all expected. They explained how life became hectic and your paths just crossed less and less as your interests and goals changed.

When you came across Haknyeon’s comment, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You still owe me ice cream for lending you my pen during our final exam,” you read aloud. You recalled the day; you were freaking out about your misplaced pencil case and he had kindly offered his extra pen.

“What else would you expect from the foodie?” Kevin laughed.

By the time you got to Juyeon’s response, however, you froze. Curious as to what caught you so off guard, Jacob took the laptop from your lap and gasped. Kevin peeped over Jacob’s shoulder and his jaw dropped after reading it. He immediately looked at you, wondering how you were taking the information.

You were confused. He had been the object of your love and attention for a good three years in high school. Not wanting anyone to find out, you had swallowed those feelings and the Canada duo were the only ones to ever catch on. You and Juyeon used to be extremely close—even closer than you and Kevin or you and Jacob. He always quietly took care of you and the two of you shared everything with each other until one day he suddenly became distant. Without an explanation, he left your side and never returned. You just assumed he wanted to stop being friends. It hurt but you didn’t want to force a one-sided friendship so you stopped reaching out to him.

“What the heck?” you finally blurted.

Jacob slowly closed the laptop shut, eyeing Kevin who seemed way too giddy. He felt uneasy, not knowing if this was a good thing.

“So your first love was requited,” Kevin said smugly. “I told you so.”

“Okay you had absolutely no facts to back up your assumption back then,” you argued.

“What did I tell you? My gut is never wrong.”

“Yeah but he also just cut me off out of nowhere. How else was I supposed to interpret that?”

“Clearly not the way we did.”

Jacob smacked his hand over Kevin’s mouth to shut him up. He knew how much pain Juyeon’s name brought you. You didn’t show it but you still had a soft spot for him.

“It’s okay, Jacob. Whatever feelings I had for Juyeon—good and bad—are history. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me,” you assured. “Besides, this doesn’t even mean anything. He wrote all of this in past tense. He’s just clarifying the reason why our friendship ended. Like Kevin said, I guess I finally got closure.”

“Closure? My brilliant idea has brought forth an opportunity for you to rekindle your love!” Kevin exclaimed excitedly.

“No. No way,” you shook your head. “The past is in the past. We are living very separate lives now.”

“Oh stop quoting Frozen and just try texting him,” he rolled his eyes. “Jacob and I never told you but he’s actually attending the same university as us.”

This prompted a very loud “What?” from you. Jacob buried his head in his hands, groaning. He was definitely going to get an earful.

“You’re bound to run into him eventually. So just take the initiative and face things head on,” Kevin advised. “Won’t that be less awkward than coincidentally meeting him after ignoring his response to the form you sent him?”

“And who’s the one who made me send it?” you glared, puffing your cheeks.

“You’re going to do it anyway so just hurry up and pretend you have no choice but to listen to me,” he snickered.

“Moon Hyungseo!”

At your use of his full Korean name, his eyes widened in fear and he jumped up to run away, barely avoiding your slap. Watching the scene in front of him, Jacob laughed. He had secretly hoped that you would reconnect with Juyeon as well. He knew how much you used to like him.

That night, you found yourself staring at Juyeon’s contact on your phone. Your heart raced at the thought of talking to him again. It had been years since you two last spoke and so many things had changed since then. You were no longer oblivious and clumsy teenagers. You knew each other’s past selves but didn’t know a thing about each other’s current selves. You were afraid that even if you became friends again, it would be too different. It was why you never harbored any hope for things to go back to “normal” with him. You couldn’t be disappointed if you never had any expectations to begin with.

Still, you took a leap of courage and sent a simple “hey” before you could chicken out. His reply was almost instant, which startled you.

You: hey

Juyeon: Hi Y/n

You: would it be weird if i asked to meet? i think we have a few things to talk about.. if that’s ok with you

Juyeon: Sure! How’s tomorrow at noon? We could talk over a meal at the school cafeteria

You: sounds good. see you then :)

You wanted to scream into your pillow. The awkwardness was driving you crazy but you were still looking forward to seeing him. He still had you wrapped around his finger and you hated it. But you still loved him.

The next day, your clothes were flung around all over your bed. You had rummaged through your entire closet to find an outfit you were satisfied with, resulting in you running a bit late.

Juyeon had arrived at the cafeteria early. He was so nervous that he couldn’t just stay still in his dorm. After all these years, he was finally confronting everything that he had concealed. He always felt guilty about the way he treated you and he was glad he could finally explain and apologize.

When he saw you approach him, he couldn’t stop himself from staring. It had only been a summer since he last saw you at graduation but your beauty still amazed him. He gulped, standing up to greet you when you reached the table.

The first few minutes were spent eating in awkward silence. Unable to bear it any longer, he cleared his throat to begin the conversation.

“Um so I guess my response to that form was a lot to unpack, huh?” he said sheepishly.

You almost choked on the food, surprised by his straightforwardness. He passed you your cup of water as you coughed.

“Yeah..” you mumbled.

“I want to start by saying I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I think I always had feelings for you. At first, it was subtle. I just liked spending time with you. I liked making you smile. I was content with just being friends. You know me, I’m the type to just watch my crush from afar. Then, as we got older, those feelings grew to be bigger than I could handle. I began to get greedy. And I felt that I could literally do anything for you. That’s when I realized how hard I fell for you and that scared me. I was afraid of ruining our friendship but I was also scared of my own feelings. So I started distancing myself from you. It’s a poor excuse but back then, I was a coward,” he confessed.

Juyeon had always been a very direct person. He never really beat around the bush and you liked that about him. That hadn’t changed about him but yet it still surprised you.

“If I could go back in time, I wish I could have done things differently. I knew I was hurting you but I thought that after all that’s happened, continuing to be friends with you would make you the center of gossip again. I didn’t want to make your life any harder,” he added.

“Juyeon, I cared about you a lot more than I did about those stupid rumors.”

“I know that now. But high schooler me was terrified of you finding out about my feelings.”

You contemplated on whether or not you should bring up your own past feelings. You wanted to reciprocate his honesty but were worried that it would be unnecessary. You took a deep breath and decided on the first option.

“You know, I was also terrified of having you find out about my feelings,” you admitted. Your words shocked him as he tried to figure out what you were implying.

“Wait, you.. You liked me too?” he gaped, making you blush.

“Let’s uh stop talking about that now,” you said as your cheeks reddened to a darker shade.

“While we’re opening up..” he looked at you with hesitance. “Is there any chance you still feel the same way now?”

His question caught you entirely off guard. You blankly stared at him, wondering if you heard him correctly.

“Juyeon, this is the first proper conversation we’ve had in years,” you deadpanned.

“That’s not an immediate no,” he lit up.

You wanted to laugh at his simplicity. His childlike innocence was still the same. It warmed your heart to see that he hadn’t changed as much as you were afraid he would. Yet, the fear in the back of your mind remained. You weren’t confident that you could even resume your friendship with him. At your silence, he tried to lighten the mood.

“So then would being friends again be okay with you?” he asked.

“I guess we could try,” you slowly nodded, bringing a bright smile to his face. You didn’t notice that your expression reflected his.

“Great,” he grinned happily.

And that was the beginning of a new story between you two.

bonus:

[margarethx]

I really don’t like going into topics like that, because I honestly care more about characters than actors who play them most of the time... I don’t feel like it’s my job to defend celebrities and actors, because I don’t owe them anything and I don’t know them, so I might be wrong... But the way some of you act about the whole situation with Anthony Mackie is abhorrent and I just can’t fully ignore it. So let’s sum it up.

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

1) Majority of the people who criticize Anthony for his words did not learn the full context. I just know they didn’t. They didn’t click to see the entire interview and analyze what was really said. They just saw a headline with some “scandalous” statement and started ranting about it without thinking.

2) Most of the fans who are the most loud and vicious about their criticism of Anthony Mackie in this situation sound like they would hate him no matter what he said. They were just waiting for him to do something wrong or semi-wrong and lached onto it the first chance they got.

3) It’s frankly embarassing that after 6 episodes of a popular Marvel show, dozens of media appearences, and hundreds of positive/neutral/wise/funny words said in different interviews Anthony was never really trending on the Internet, but the second he says something mildly controversial you all suddenly care so much about what he has to say... Okay...

4) Acting like race has nothing to do with this situation is just stupid. If you think that the fact that he’s Black is not in any way relevant in this "drama” you’re wrong and maybe you should rethink your opinions keeping that in mind.

5) I understand the initial reaction of the fandom being frustration and hurt, but no one is forcing us to voice our opinions the second we learn about something. You can read the full article, listen to the whole interview. Look at what other people are saying and then provide your own take on the issue. I feel like way too many people just heard that there’s some drama going on and typed the first thing that came to their minds without stopping to think. As always.

6) Even if you don’t agree with everything that Anthony said claiming that his words make him homophobic is weird. His statement was vague and could be interpretend as something... ugh... “problematic” out of context, but if you actually listen to what he said you’d know what he meant. He really didn’t say: “I hate shipping Sam and Bucky, it’s gross and people who do that are awful”... Yet half the fandom acts like these are his actual words.

7) The website standing behind it is partially responsible for the backlash he got, because they framed his words in probably the worst possible way to promote the interview which I find incredibly unfair.

8) Also asking actors about shipping is not a great idea. It’s not their job to deal with fandoms who got angry about everything. And like I said: it doesn’t matter what his answer would be. Someone would hate him for it anyway. Also it’s not like Anthony’s opinion would matter to the Marvel Studios if they wanted to make Sambucky canon or not. I’m sure his view on this issue is entirely irrelevant to them. He’s not standing in your way to get some representation, come on.

9) By the way... Many of you don’t act like you care about representation if it’s not done in a very specific manner (something Mackie even spoke about in a way), so I don’t really trust that many of you actually give a shit about it, when it doesn’t fit your incredibly narrow interpretation of what should be represented... or when it doesn’t match your very specific aesthetic...

10) Some people brought it up and I was almost inclined to agree... “Platonic male friendhips are important! Just because you’re affectionate with other man doesn’t mean you’re gay” is usually a terrible argument used in fandoms by homophobes against making gay couples canon. But I feel like it’s a different thing when some random Twitter user says it and when it comes from a man who is asked over and over, and over, and over again how close exactly is he with his male co-worker that he likes in private life.

11) If you’ve seen other interviews done by Anthony Mackie (not just short clips promoting Marvel movies) you’d know that it’s not the first time he speaks about his opinions about the topic. It didn’t come out of nowhere. And I don’t think we should hold him to completely different standards just because he admitted to being more intolerant in the past, but few people are open enough to admit that and show they’re working to change. And maybe I’m biased, because I had to put actual effort into changing my worldview about some topics into a more progressive one before, but I feel like it’s important to give people time to re-learn after years of having worse opinions. Or to give them some benefit of the doubt and trust that they’re not your enemy, because they’re not always 100% perfect with their support.

12) Overall I just feel bad for him, because poor wording or not, I’m sure - judging by many of his previous statements - that he didn’t mean to say something harmful and yet everyone was ready to jump and hate him even more than they did before. At the end of the day he’s 40-something straight guy who has very limited experience with fandoms, so he (for a good reason) preferred to just avoid the topic. But he was pushed again and again to talk about it, until he finally said something that people didn’t like... Some of you were just wainting to have a weapon to use agains him... So, congratulations, now you have it.

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

... I’m just tired by this whole situation and disappointed in a lot of fans I previously liked. There were a few people who immediately jumped to criticize Mackie and judging by their words they didn’t really know what they were talking about. I had to change my opinion about few creators who I followed, because of their terrible behaviour after all of this and it honestly leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

And I’m not even a huge Anthony Mackie fan! As I’ve mentioned... I don’t like being too invested in actors lives, I just prefer to focus on their work and what they’ve created... with a few tiny exceptions. But seeing how the fandom reacted to his statement made me so annoyed and frustrated that it felt wrong to just be silent and pretend like nothings happening.

[roscgcld]

THE LOVE OF AN OLDER BROTHER || INUMAKI TOGE

request: Okay if you accept sibling fluff can I request inumaki toge little sister reader(in elementary school) ,where she's deaf and gets bullied for it but doesn't tell him because she thinks it's to much of a burden(like silent voice)

note: hello love! thank you so much for your request! tbh, i’ve never watched the movie A Silent Voice before, so I had to do some Youtubing to find some clips - and I blame you for making me ugly cry at 2 am in the morning lmao. It’s so sweet and such a coming of age story in a way, so I tried to channel that into my writing >< I definitely enjoyed this one a lot!

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: inumaki toge

pronouns: she/her

trigger warning: bullying/physical assault mentioned, along with self depreciating and suicidal thoughts. read with caution. 

proof read: N/A

Being from a clan like the Inumaki clan, many from the Jujutsu world would just automatically assume that you’d inherate the powerful Cursed Speech Curse Ability from your family. However, there is always that few exceptions when it came to things like this; and this time, you were that one exception.

You were born deaf, and because of this, you were looked down upon by the elders of your clan for being a ‘waste of an heir’. Your father, a loving man, had always shield you from there vile words; and from example your older brother, a gifted user, became overprotective of you. He would willingly take a bullet for you, constantly showering you in love and affection, and even going so far as learning how to use sign language at a young age so he can communicate with you.

Because he just wants you to grow up in a loving and somewhat normal life. That’s all he wants for you. 

Hence why, instead of following the normal route of a jujutsu student, your parents decided to sign you up in a nearby elementary school with the hopes that you get to bond with normal children. So that’s how you found yourself dressed in a cute floral dress, your white frilly socks with simple Mary Janes, your white hair pulled back into a delicate braid; all excited with your backpack filled with things you picked up at the stationery store and a bento prepared by your mother.

Since it was his day off, Toge took up the responsibility of sending you off on your first day, making sure that the entire process will be smooth sailing for you. Walking down the street of your town, he lets you swing your hands between each other, smiling behind his black mask at how excited you were to start your first day of school. It warmed his heart that you get to experience normal things like this, and without knowing it, you motivated him to push himself harder to become a stronger shaman, to protect the world that brings you so much joy. 

Soon you both found your way into the school grounds and quietly, Toge brought you aside so that he can pull his mask down, revealing his tattooed mouth and tongue. But you just smile at your older brother, who smiles back before he reaches over to ruffle your hair between his fingers. Quietly he signed to you, mouthing the worlds he wanted to say silently instead of wording them out in the open; he was a Cursed Speech user, after all. The safest way for him to communicate for you is for him to use onigiri ingredients. or to word out the words silently whilst doing the signs with his hands. 

‘You ready for school, pipsqueak?’

“Uf huf!” You said happily, your speech clearly slurred and not so clear since you had never been corrected on how to say words properly - but with how you excitedly nod your head with a wide smile, Toge can pretty much interpret what you were saying. Smiling warmly at your excitement, he leans over to kiss you on the forehead on last time before pulling his mask back on. With that he got back up and, after taking your outstretched hand, you two joined the rest of the crowd once more.

After a lot of paperwork and awkward one sided conversations, since Toge went with the excuse that he had a sore throat, you soon found yourself being led to stand behind your new classmates, who were focused on saying goodbye to their parents. Toge squatted down before you and you can immediately tell he was smiling behind his mask, causing you to smile back as well. Quietly he leans forward to rub his masked nose with yours, something that you two always do when the other is about to leave.

With a giggle you happily rubbed your nose against his as well, and with another parting pat to your head, he got up and followed the other parents that were ushered out of the crowded hallway. Soon a few of the more confident students started to introduce themselves to one another, and one of those children came running towards you with a grin. “Good morning! My name is Taku, nice to meet you!” He greeted loudly as he bowed at you and the girls around you, who all gave him an uninterested glance before turning their attention away from him. 

But you did give him an excited smile before you started to sign back a greeting, trying to vocalise your name at the same time. This cause everyone in the hallway to pause and stare at you in confusion, since they had not expected for someone who looks so sweet and soft spoken to have spoken in such a loud and odd way. However before anyone can make a comment about it, the teacher finally arrived with a warm smile on his face, gesturing for the students to entire their new class.

This moment of excitement managed to distract the students and soon everyone flooded into the room, waiting for their seat arrangements to be settled by the teacher before they start their first real day as students. Of course, like any first day of school, you had to do the ice breaker activities to introduce your name and greeting the rest of the class. Everyone had to do it, regardless if they were ready to do it or not - and you were no exception.

You stood up excitedly before you started to say what sounds like your name, signing along the way to try and express yourself better. Once again, everyone was staring at you in confusion, having never heard someone speak like you before. Your teacher just smiles and nods, introducing you to the rest of the students simply. “Inumaki here is actually deaf, meaning she can’t hear you all. So you have to be more creative when you want to talk to her. However, just because she is different, doesn’t mean she is any different from you all. So I expect to treat her like everyone else.” 

The simple explanation caused the rest of the students to nod softly, giving you more curious looks since they’ve never been around someone like you before. But on the outside, you were pretty much the same like the rest of them; so it was easy to forget that you were any different from them in the beginning. 

It was actually really fun for you - for your entire life, you had always been around sorceress, feeling like an outcast in such a well gifted family. Even though you had a disadvantage, you had always been acutely aware of where curses were, being able to locate them quite accurately even without former training. But you were still a child, so you were given a chance to try out the life as a normal child. You were ecstatic, since you had always dreamed what it would be like to start school and live a normal life. 

But, as if the world wanted to spite you, things never tend to go your way.

You remember how things first started out for you - people were shocked at how loud and different you were, but made a real effort to try and talk to you to try and get to know you; since that was what their teachers told them to. However, after awhile, people started to talk behind your back; about how you made no real effort to try and join the conversation, even though the hearing aids you donned on seemed to help you understand them just a little better. At first you ignored the comments of just a few people, having been able to ignore all the backhanded comments that the elders have made for almost your entire life. 

However, the first ever boy who introduce himself to you, Taku, seemed to have deemed you to be the odd one out - and for some reason, had decided that you were going to be the subject of his new taunts and teases. At first it was small things like playful off handed comments about you that made your mood fall, but didn’t do much. You have been subjected to worse treatement from others. However, as the weeks go by, it was getting harder and harder to ignore. 

Toge had noticed that as the weeks go on, the enthusiasm that you once held for school started to dwindle. Every time he asks you about it though, you would just quickly wave him off, saying that you were just tired with how much work it takes to with people who weren’t necessarily used to using sign language and understanding you. Technically you weren’t lying, since you were mentally drained trying to communicate with so many different types of people. But at the same time, all the off-handed comments were getting to you. 

Your answer definitely has him concerned, since he was used to having his baby sister basically talking his ear off on a normal bases; but he didn’t push you too much. It was something he had learnt to do when it comes to you - that when you really need him, you’d come and tell him no matter what. And it was true; even if it was a small trivial matter, you always come whining to him for attention and a listening ear. So he doesn’t necessarily push you to tell him, but he did remind you that if you needed him, he would be there.

And you knew that, but the same time, somehow there were seeds of doubts planted in your mind. 

“Don’t you think you’re annoying people all the time?”

“God, you’re so noisy! Can’t you talk quieter?! No wonder people don’t like talking to you~”

“Can you stop trying so hard? You just sound weird.”

It hurt you, and with how busy he can get with his own school life and rarely get to see you, these words started to fill your head and make you feel like you aren’t worth all the effort that people put into trying to communicate with you. It made you start to become closed off and stop making the effort to talk to people, because in your eyes, you didn’t want to be a bigger bother then you already are for people.

Your sudden silence definitely had your parents getting concerned about you, since they were weren’t sure as to why you were suddenly so quiet and secluded from your family when you all used to be such a close family unit. Toge was the most concerned one out of everyone, so after he finally got home from his classes for the week, he had brought some some of the fruit tarts he knows you love from a nearby bakery.

Quietly he made his way to his baby sister’s room, knocking on the wooden frame of the shoji doors to let her know he was coming in. “Salmon?” He calls out curiously as he carefully pushes open the door to your room open, peeking his head in side. The sight of you curled up on your side on your bed, not even acknowledging that your brother had entered your room. Your lack of response does concern him; so he quietly set the box of tarts down on your bedside table before carefully setting down on the bed beside you. 

Quietly he reaches over to run his fingers through your soft hair, wordlessly giving you the comfort you didn’t know you were needing. Just a simple touch from someone who you have been trying to hide for so long definitely have your eyes watering. Wordlessly you turned to face your older brother, who just gave you an encouraging smile before he opens his arms for you. 

You launched yourself into his arms, and if he hadn’t been waiting for it to happen, he would have fallen back from the sheer force of the hug. Any normal person would have asked you hundreds of questions that will frankly make you feel worse, but Toge was just a pro at understanding you without you needing to say a word.

He might not know just what is it that got you so upset in the first place, and just how much seeing him in your room made you feel a little less lonely; but he wordlessly just wraps his arms around you, pressing soft kisses on the top of your head wordlessly as you soaked his shirt with your tears. It breaks his heart that you were going through the pains of having to live with something that you didn’t choose to have.

But if all you need was someone to lean on, he just wants wants you know that he’s here no matter what.

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[holycow99]

石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 1

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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I: Hello. Can you hear me? Good night. (t/n: He’s replying to a comment.) You can hear me? Hello. Welcome.

I: My tone sounds great today, ***-kun? (t/n: OP commented that his tone sounds great.) Of course I’ll be excited in the beginning of the stream. But only in the beginning.

C: Your voice somehow sounds young.

I: It’s because I just slept.

*Typing on twitter

I: I finally did it. This is a simultaneous worldwide stream. Do you understand it? Ah, I’m so tired. I’m tired of sleeping.

I: I’ll be drinking my coffee. Itadakimasu.

I: It was a long vacation, wasn’t it? When was the last time you guys heard from me? On September…Well, it doesn’t matter.

I: I don’t have anything particular to do for this stream. I just felt like it.

C: I’ve been listening to your streams repeatedly during holiday.

I: Thank you.

C: We last heard from you at the end of August.

I: I see. Thanks.

C: Thank you for your hard work on the manuscript!

I: I did the rough sketches first. I was brainstorming.

*Someone commented on Animal Rap.

I: Animal rap? I actually wanna try this. Actually, I’ve done recording for one video, but won’t it be scary if suddenly in the middle of the stream, animal rap video is uploaded. Without saying anything, suddenly there’s a new animal rap video being uploaded. Won’t it be scary stream?

(t/n: I’m not sure if the translations for this part is correct. He said something more but I haven’t reached this level of Japanese understanding skill. Forgive me.)

C: Animal rap itself is scary, so it’s okay.

I: What a hilarious thing to say. Are you actually afraid of animal then?

C: Have you got vaccinated?

I: Nope, since I’ve been locked up in my house. I want to though. I want to get injected a lot. Around 10 times.

C: Sensei, did you read Berserk chapter 364?

I: Is it the final chapter?

Y****: Let’s inject the head.

I: Nice one, Y****. Well, since Y**** is an introvert at school, he must be a non-popular kid. Because he doesn’t have any friends, he can’t wait to meet me. Is it like that? Hahahaha.

I: I’m not even aware of the things happening around me. I don’t even know when the exhibition in Osaka will open. I want you guys to tell me about me.

C: I’m aiming to be a mangaka, but having someone that can be a mentor for me to learn from is better, as expected?

I: I don’t think so. It depends. In some degree, it’s better to do it by yourself. If you really wanna write a manga and you wanna create an environment that allows you to do so, if there’s a chance to be an assistant, I think it’s better for you to grab it. Because you’re still not familiar with how these things work. I think it’s better to be an assistant first. You don’t have to be one for a long time though.

C: I want to diet. Where should I start?

I: Record your weight. Measure your weight and record it in calendar. Doing that makes you feel conscious about your weight. You’ll probably can lose weight that way.

C: Are you still eating oatmeal?

I: I’ve been eating Onigiri only. 

C: I wanna change job, but I’m anxious to because of the economic situation. Please encourage me!

I: It’s better for you to change job, since you said you wanted to. I think everyone is anxious. There’s no one who isn’t.

C: I’m happy that the JJ illustration that you posted on twitter will be made into goods!

I: Yeah, without my permission. Hahaha. When the illustration was made into goods without my permission, I was like “Eh? This is…”. I’ll stop talking about this. Hahaha. I won’t talk about this.

*Someone commented about Kingdom exhibition.

I: I wanna go to the Kingdom exhibition.

I: What I said just now (about JJ illustration) was a lie. Please forget about it. Are there companies like that? Of course not. I was just joking. If that’s the case, then anybody can freely turn my illustrations into goods. Though there’s a person who sent me the PugMax t-shirt.

C: I wanted to be a mangaka when I was small. As I got older, I only immersed myself in the real world. I’ll be a civil servant starting from next year. I don’t have the courage to challenge myself, so I want to give my unconditional support to those who are.

I: I don’t know how old you are, but you can still draw even if you become a civil servant. Just draw one if you really want to.

C: You have to collect royalty.

I: I do get royalty. I get 5 yen in total.

C: How old will you be this year?

I: 250,000 years old.

C: How are you?

I: Like usual. But I made progress on the manuscript, so I’m relieved. I kinda forgot how to draw it.

C: I thought you were in your 30s.

I: Nope, I’m far older.

C: You haven’t started game streaming?

I: I’m haven’t decided yet for today.

*People were discussing about his age.

I: Doesn’t matter how old I am.

C: Do you prefer women with long hair or short hair?

I: Short hair.

*People commented about Heavy Rain.

I: Oh, you want to see me playing Heavy Rain? I’m okay with that. I’m okay with playing games or anything. I’ll be a yes-man for today. Everyone’s yes-man & toy, Ishida Osushi.

*Someone commented about Animal Rap again.

I: I wanted to say something about this. I’ve done the animal rap video. I only upload videos I’ve received from the animal themselves, not me. But I was afraid to upload it, so I refrained from doing so. I wanna try uploading the video while streaming. That’s what I wanted to say. Well, it doesn’t really matter. I just upload it after I finish streaming. I don’t understand the need to upload the video and streaming at the same time.

(t/n: He said something more, but again, info on Animal rap is hard for me to decipher. I’m really sorry.)

C: What did you watch recently?

I: Movies.

C: There were people who got scared by the fact that Ishida Sui raps.

I: No, you’re wrong. Ishida Sui doesn’t rap. Ishida Sui doesn’t do streaming as well.

C: Do mangakas have the chance to meet women?

I: It depends on the person. The ones who’re locked up in the house won’t. But…That’s right. You might if the workplace has mixed genders. You also have the chance to meet people during party or some sort. I’ll always be at the corner every time I go to parties. It’d be nice if the party was fun and the staffs could enjoy themselves. I also said that I went to parties to take a break, but I hated it.

C: You’re not going to parties?

I: Nope, I won’t. The company doesn’t hold them as well because of the current situation.  Even if I did, I wouldn’t know what to do. I don’t really eat the food, and introducing myself to people is tiresome.

I: S****** is here.

S******: Ishida Osushi can become a pro mangaka.

I: I’m aiming for it.

C: Fukuoka suits you, sensei.

I: Somehow, I feel grateful. It’s like you’re telling me that it’s okay for me to live in Kyushu.

(t/n: Kyushu is an island where Fukuoka is located.)

C: Sir Osushi, what do you think of Sir Sui?

I: I have a murderous intent towards him.

C: Does the thumbnail hold any meaning?

I: It does. Look forward to it.

C: Being a streamer suits you (Osushi) better than being a mangaka.

I: Hahaha.

C: The drawings of Neji (JJ character) by Ms. Towada were wonderful!

I: That’s right. Neji drawn by Ms. Towada. I want you guys to tell me something like this. I want you guys to tell me about my current situation. Things like, “would you retweet this?”, “This is JJ’s…”, “The CD’s also…”. Let me change my twitter account. First is Ms. Towada, right? Let’s retweet Ms. Towada’s tweets. I thought of drawing something like this. She drew quite a lot. She drew him more than me. I feel bad having her to draw it. I feel grateful rather than feeling bad. She drew a lot of them. Yonaga’s illustration looks nice. I see… There’s like an incomplete rough drawing. I thought of copying and drawing that illustration. I’ll just retweet this. Tell me what should I retweet next.

C: Is Ms.Towada doing well as well?

I: I talked to her a few days ago.

I: Do read Fool Night.

C: Do you like Aespa? (t/n: Aespa is a kpop girl group. Ishida had drawn one of the members.)

I: The girl caught my attention. I thought she was beautiful.

*Someone commented about his illustration of Ano-chan. (t/n: Ano-chan is a Japanese singer. Ishida had come to her radio programme once, and he did the album cover for her latest album.)

I: Ano-chan! What happened to that? Have you seen the album cover? It’s already out?

*Someone commented about Fool Night.

I: The world in Fool Night is super amazing. It was quite a while ago, the person in charge of the Superior magazine watched one of my streams and asked me if I could write some comments. I was like “Don’t tell me that!” (referring to watching his stream). I hate being seen. But then, I was like “whatever.” I usually turned it down, but I just wrote for this one.

*Someone commented about Wooma (t/n: an illustrator.)

I: Who’s Wooma? Let me check it.

C: Sensei, I’m a good child. So, is it okay for me to sleep?

I: Yes, of course.

C: Sensei, do you smoke?

I: No.

I: Ah, Wooma is the illustrator for the song ‘Usseewa’. Sorry for the lack of knowledge.

C: Do you watch Christopher Nolan’s works?

I: I’m not that familiar with movies, but I may or may not watch it. I’ve been getting into movies lately. I searched for the movies Takahashi Kunimitsu told me about. You tend to watch anything when you’re obsessed with movies, right? I was also obsessed with history for a while after I learned how fun it was from Takahashi Kunimitsu. I’ve been reading 2-3 books on history a day lately.

C: Until what time are you gonna stream?

I: Today is infinite as well. We have another 12 minutes left. Haha. I’ll keep on streaming today. I won’t end the stream today. It may end tomorrow. (t/n: He definitely kept his words.)

C: Sensei, do you like itzy? (t/n: Itzy is another kpop girl group, and Ishida had also drawn one of the members.)

I: Yes.

I: Tomorrow is a holiday? There are people who are not working tomorrow.

C: What are you drinking?

I: Coffee.

C: You only need another 800 people to reach 30,000 subscribers.

I: Yeah. It’s gonna reach 30,000. I have to make an appreciation stream or video for 30,000 subscribers. A lot of youtubers are doing this, so I have to do it too. I wanna do it. Feels like a youtuber. Isn’t it fun? I wonder what should I do for it? What would be fun? Let’s go with this concern first. I get lost if I don’t go one-by-one. It’s one of my bad habits.

*They’re planning on what Ishida should do when he reaches 30,000 subscribers.

C: Show your nails.

I: I don’t do manicure.

C: Heavy Rain.

I: Wanna play Heavy Rain as well.

C: Please let us hear your sneeze.

I: There is such person sometimes. Creepy.

C: Why don’t you play Ghosts n Goblins for now?

I: After the stream, I felt like playing the game. They had something like magical clock, though I forgot the name. The one that double the speed of the game. I really wanted to play that, honestly. Though, it wasn’t suitable for streaming. I thought of playing it in my own time. I really like that kind of games.

C: Will you sing when you reach 30,000?

I: During the previous silent stream, Queen Bee’s song was playing. Those who watched may know. I thought of appearing for a moment and sing and then end the stream. I wouldn’t do it, but I just thought about it. At that time, I wanted to try having just an illustration stream.

C: I’m waiting for an autograph session after the Corona ends.

I: The pandemic probably won’t end for at least 2-3 years.

*Someone wanted him to sing Gaston’s song.

I: Gaston. Singing, huh? Hahaha, why am I having second thoughts? I thought I’m okay with anything.

C: how about a karaoke battle?

I: Karaoke battle, huh?

C: Do you have any piercings?

I: I’m not wearing one right now, but I do have it. (t/n: I didn’t expect him to have a piercing. He’s really different than what I imagined a mangaka to be. XD)

C: I’m hoping for JJ’s song covers!

I: JJ? JJ’s songs are difficult. It was super hard during the time I did the covers. Seriously, when I heard it back…The cover for the opening theme was scary. I thought my singing ability had increased since I recorded this one the last. A few months ago, I listened to it after a long time, it was…what should I call it? A sutra, no, a curse. Me and JJ’s opening theme. I forgot the title of the song. Jack and something. There were parts in the songs where the female and male characters had to harmonise. To convey that part, I had to cover the song multiple times. I multiplied into 7 people, since I had to record as Kisa as well. When I was recording Kisa’s part, the other version of me at the back, probably Kai, was harmonising with me. I was told to deepen my voice by Mr.Kasama. So embarrassing. The voice was really low. I was drawn by Mr. Kasama’s voice. His voice was really good when he said ‘Broccoli’ for the cm.

*Ishida imitating Mr. Kasama.

I: It’s cooler than this.

*Imitating him once again.

I: I was like “So cool!”

C: Invite the animals that appeared in Animal rap as guests.

I: That’s a good idea. But what would the guests be doing? It’s absolutely hard to do that. It’s hard to invite the animals because of corona.

C: The title is “Jack & Jeanne of Quartz”.

I: Right. Thank you.

C: Won’t you invite Hanae?

I: I won’t. That’s impossible. (t/n: I want to see him playing horror games with Hanae Natsuki.)

Part 2

[authenticcadence18]

“Ice Cream and Dances Pt. 2: Electric Boogaloo” Ch. 2

…

HELLO I AM POSTING A FIC UPDATE!!!!!!!! :DD

(Also a disclaimer! This fic uses the phrase “more than friends” a lot, and I wrote the first chapter before I realized that phrase can imply that friendships are lesser than romantic relationships. I want to make it clear that I do not see romantic relationships as inherently more valuable than friendships. Friendship is equally as important!!!! In the context of Phineas and Isabella, starting a romantic relationship would literally be them becoming “more than friends” because they would then be romantic partners AND friends. So, when I use that phrase in this fic moving forward, this is the meaning I’m choosing to interpret it as!)

…

“Ice Cream and Dances” by FrsdGirl

AO3

Previous Chapter

…

Isabella did her best to focus on inhaling and exhaling as Phineas led her back onto the dance floor.

“THIS IS A FRIEND THING.”

Once they found an empty spot, Phineas let go of Isabella’s hand and turned to face her, eyes wide and face flushed and GOODNESS HE LOOKED CUTE—

“HYPOTHETICAL. PLATONIC.”

Somehow, Isabella’s hands found their way to Phineas’s shoulders, though she wasn’t consciously aware of it until she felt him gently place his hands on her waist and oh goodness, friend thing or not, Phineas still wanted to dance with her and be close to her even though they’d already danced earlier aND—

“NO. STOP IT. KEEP IT TOGETHER, GARCIA-SHAPIRO.”

For about half a minute, they swayed platonically (or, well, somewhat platonically), neither saying a word.

Isabella just kept on focusing on breathing, on making sure she didn’t lean too close to Phineas, on keeping the desire to admit she’d actually love to be here with him on a real date at bay.

(She couldn’t have known Phineas was focusing on very similar things.)

Sure, she’d been nervous when they danced like this earlier. But those nerves were nothing compared to the nerves she was experiencing now because NOW, she had much more to worry about.

This was still strictly a friend thing, but it was also now a hypothetical more-than-friends-who-were-on-a-date thing. Except it WASN’T actually hypothetical in Isabella’s case, and she couldn’t help but hope that it might be more than hypothetical for Phineas as well but NO, she couldn’t give in to that hope, that was dangerous, so she needed to maintain a good balance between honesty and nonchalance about all this but that was difficult to do when he was so close and holding her and good grief , why’d she ever taken Buford up on his dare, and—

“Isabella? Are you okay?”

Isabella started and blinked, clearing her head of myriad worries with a shake to find Phineas staring at her with concern in his eyes.

“You kinda spaced out there for a second…” he continued. “And you looked a little worried. Is something wrong? Would you rather do something else?”

“NO!!!!!” Isabella shot back. A few nearby couples darted their heads in their direction, and she winced (the LAST thing she wanted to do was draw more attention to her and Phineas after their “grand entrance”).

“I...I just mean… I’m fine. Really.” She did her best to muster a smile for Phineas’s sake. “Just got lost in thought for a bit, you know?”

Phineas grinned, seemingly relieved to know that she was okay (though that could’ve just been Isabella reading into things). “Been there, done that!” he said.

Isabella chuckled a little, the image of Phineas hunched over his phone flickering in her memory. “I bet! You looked pretty lost in thought while Buford and I were dancing earlier. Who were you texting? Or were you testing out a new app?”

She felt a little more at ease now that she was talking with Phineas (as opposed to drowning in her own thoughts.)

“Huh??” Phineas blinked and bit his lip, shoulders briefly tensing up beneath Isabella’s hands. “...UH, I was just...texting Candace!”

“Really? It must have been an intense conversation, you looked so focused. Did she ask you for advice on a case assignment or something?”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t that… I just….uh” Phineas stared at her for a second and then up at the sky before continuing, “...I talk with her a lot these days. She’s got good advice.”

Isabella smiled and nodded in agreement in response.

(Perhaps she was a little curious to know what exactly Phineas had been discussing with Candace. But she knew he’d tell her if he wanted to, and she didn’t want to press him in case he didn’t.)

In the meantime, she could change the subject.

“So...have you been brainstorming any new projects lately?” she asked. “Other than the Stargazer 3000 of course, though if you want to talk about that I’m all ears!”

Phineas’s eyes practically ignited with excitement, making something flutter and glow in Isabella’s chest.

“Yeah!!!” he exclaimed. “Yesterday Ferb and I started experimenting with levitating carpets, like we did when we were kids! We want to see if we can replicate the effects over a smaller surface. But the technology isn’t quite ready yet…..”

…

“And THAT’S how we plan to modify our pre-existing anti-gravity quantum state lift disk technology to function effectively over a smaller surface area!! We’re planning on finishing up a prototype tomorrow and using it for a project.”

“Cool!! Can I come over and help out?”

“Of course! You never have to ask to come over, Isabella. I’ll—er, we’ll always be glad to have you around.”

“Thanks!”

Sometimes, it was easy to take living across the street from Phineas for granted. Because of that, Isabella was used to his boundless creativity and ideas, used to his uncanny ability to make the impossible possible...but she never wanted to lose sight of how extraordinary just being able to be used to those things was.

Moments like this reminded her that Phineas was brilliant .

And handsome.

….brilliantly handsome.

She cracked a smile at that last thought.

Phineas, fortunately, didn’t ask why she was smiling. He just smiled back...and then tilted his head, his expression morphing from fond to thoughtful.

“.....I just realized something,” he said. “We danced earlier.”

Isabella nodded, unsure where he was going with this.

“I guess, I just realized…. This—you know, us , dancing together—it doesn’t feel much different from how it felt before, when we were dancing but like...strictly as friends. ….uH! Not that we aren’t dancing strictly as friends right now! But...the hypothetical more-than-friends thing you were wondering about...you’d think it would make things feel more different….but if it’s us, it doesn’t. Not really.”

A blush sprawled across Isabella’s face. She’d been so wrapped up in listening to Phineas’s ideas, she’d almost forgotten about the hypothetical more-than-friends thing.

But Phineas apparently hadn’t forgotten.

“Uh—is that still a thing we’re doing?” he asked. “Pretending this is, like…a date? Or thinking about what it would be like if it were? Because I thought we were, but maybe I misunderstood, and if so that’s my bad—”

“No, you didn’t misunderstand!!!” Isabella replied quickly. “And, we can keep pretending this is a date. If you want.”

Phineas exhaled with a smile. “Cool!”

“Yup! Cool!” Isabella agreed.

Whew.

“And, you’re right,” she continued. “It doesn’t feel much different from how it did before...but it feels right. Talking with you feels better than just dancing in silence and staring at each other. I guess other couples might do that, but not us.”

“Yeah!!” Phineas let out a gentle chuckle. “I guess this means, if we were a couple, we wouldn’t act much differently from how we do now.”

“That’s what happens when you fall for your best friend, huh?” Isabella gave Phineas a knowing grin (she was basically a world-renowned expert on this subject). “Since there’s already a great foundation of friendship in place, romantic feelings can just develop naturally from what’s already there.”

….wait a second.

“….uH!!!” she choked, jerking back and clutching her hands to her chest on instinct. “Not that I’d know that personally!! Just, uh! In movies and stuff! That’s how it always goes. Yup. And we’re best friends, so! In this hypothetical scenario, we’d be best friends who fell for each other. Hypothetically.”

“Okaaayyyy time to divert the subject, Garcia-Shapiro.”

“People in movies have it easy….” she continued, trying her best to sound light and casual. “They meet and then, less than two hours later, BOOM! They’re together, true love for life!! Or...at least, they’re together until a sequel comes out and they’ve broken up offscreen just to get back together again….”

(The older Isabella got, the less patience she had for subpar romance movies and subplots.)

“Yeah….it’s a lot harder in real life...” Phineas agreed quietly. “Though, we’d be remiss if we didn’t talk about how it is hard for couples in TV shows. Like, Candace used to watch this show where the two main characters were in love but they didn’t realize it, and they kept on ALMOST confessing or getting together but didn’t actually get together until the very end. She’d get so frustrated with them, called them the ‘token will they/won’t they couple.’ There were a few steady side-couples though, Candace always used to say they made watching the show a little easier.”

He leaned in, a conspiratorial twinkle in his eye, and whispered, “She always used to compare herself and Jeremy to the main couple, but between you and me, the two of them are definitely more the ‘steady side-couple’ type.”

Isabella snickered. “ Oh yeah. They had it easy! They liked each other from the beginning, went on dates, started officially dating and then just...stayed that way.”

“If only it were always that simple….” Phineas sighed.

“If Candace and Jeremy are a steady side couple, what would that make us?” Isabella asked.

She flinched and quickly added, “uH!!! In a hypothetical sense!!!!”

Phineas blinked. “UM!!! That’s a great question!!!”

...was he blushing? Or was it a trick of the light?

“I guess, uh….we’d be the token ‘will they/won’t they’ couple?”

he rubbed the back of his neck and chucked slightly. “I mean, uh...in your hypothetical scenario, I’m not sure if we’d already be together or if this would be our first time doing something together. Together -together, I mean. On a date, you know. But, uh…….. Okay, let’s say I had feelings for you. Hypothetically. I’d have no reason to believe you returned those feelings.”

Isabella bit her lip and resisted the urge to roll her eyes into the nearest adjacent galaxy.

That was Phineas, alright. Oblivious as always.

“...BUT!!” he continued, “if you returned them without knowing about MY feelings, that would be a classic ‘will they/won’t they’ scenario. At least, according to Candace, anyway….yup….”

He suddenly seemed quite interested in staring at the grass beneath their feet.

Isabella followed his gaze and studied the ground for a bit, both to avoid pondering their hypothetical couple status any longer AND because, if Phineas was staring at the grass, it likely meant something interesting was happening down there.

...except nothing interesting was happening.

“.....okay, there’s no way the grass is interesting enough to warrant us staring at it for this long,” she mused. “You didn’t get hit with a dull and boring ray, did you?”

(She was mostly joking, but one could never be too careful in Danville.)

Phineas glanced back up at her and just stared at a moment before cracking a smile.

“Funny you should mention that….i was JUST thinking about the color beige….”

A moment passed.

And then he started to giggle. Quietly at first…and then not so quietly. His amusement was contagious, and soon Isabella was caught up in it too, the two of them grinning and laughing and as carefree as could be, all the awkwardness momentarily gone.

(The ruckus garnered some more stares, as the music playing was still pretty soft….but Isabella didn’t really care about that anymore. Having fun with Phineas was way more important than worrying about what others thought.)

Gradually, their laughter died down, with Phineas giving one final giggle and wiping a tear from his cheek before placing his hand back on Isabella’s waist, eyes shining with mirth.

Isabella gazed at him with a beaming smile.

There was just something about Phineas’s laughter, something about the way he smiled so brightly and expressed such genuine positivity so effortlessly, that had fascinated her and made her head spin since they were kids....and right now, it was hard to feel scared of expressing her true feelings for him.

(In other words, she was sooo in love with him right now.)

“You know….” she whispered with a flirtatious grin, “...if WE were dating—uh, on a date, within the parameters of the hypothetical more-than-friends thing!!!”

Good save, Garcia-Shapiro.

“...I’d have told you how handsome you look by now.”

“Huh?” Phineas blinked and glanced down at his outfit. “...Oh! Thanks! ...but, I’m not really dressed for a date….I wear this shirt at least once a week, and I haven't brushed my hair since this morning.”

“Aw, Phineas, you ALWAYS look handsome,” Isabella assured him. “No matter what. I mean, between the red hair and all your freckles and your acute nose and your SMILE, I’m not sure how anyone could NOT see how handsome you are…. And it’s not just your looks either, it’s your laugh and the way you can light up anyone and anything around you just by being you, it all makes you handsome, and……”

A bit of the happy fog in Isabella’s brain evaporated, allowing her to realize she’d been rambling to Phineas about how handsome he was for the past 20 seconds.

Oops.

“uH!!!! That is! That’s what I would say if this wasn’t a friend thing! But it is! So! Uh. You can just forget I said all that, if you want….”

She winced and clenched her eyes shut. That had been too much, she’d totally taken things too far, and now Phineas would probably be super weirded out...

Except.

One glance at Phineas revealed he wasn’t weirded out at all. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes soft, mouth slightly agape with what might have been astonishment.

He looked flustered, but in a good way.

And then...he smiled again. He smiled at her.

And it was a warm smile, a gentle smile, perhaps the most adoration-filled smile Isabella had ever seen and it was directed at her and doing funny things to her heart.

“Well….” he whispered softly, “...if this weren’t a friend thing, I’d have already told you you look as beautiful as ever…. But, since this is a friend thing and I haven’t told you yet….I’ll just tell you now. Isabella, you look as beautiful as ever.”

He grinned before continuing on in a manner similar to how Isabella had spoken a bit ago.

“I mean, between your eyes, and your hair, and the way your entire face seems to light up when you smile, and your adorable laughter, and the way you’re brave enough to say whatever’s on your mind…..I don’t think anyone else is as beautiful as you, Isabella. In every sense of the word.”

Isabella’s heart was going to pound right out of her chest. Or perhaps her knees would give out and she’d collapse right here, sprawled across the grass, running Phineas’s words and tender looks over and over again in her head for the foreseeable future.

It wouldn’t be a bad way to spend the rest of the evening.

But Phineas wasn’t done yet. He drew a hand back and then reached out for Isabella’s face...only to flinch and freeze in place.

“...uH!!” he breathed, hand still suspended in mid-air. “....if this were a date, I think I’d unconsciously reach out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear after saying all those things, just to see you better! ...would you be alright with that?”

Isabella didn’t trust herself to piece a coherent sentence together at the moment, but she knew she’d definitely be alright with that, so she nodded her head.

Phineas inhaled and tentatively reached out until his fingers were gracing Isabella’s cheek and then ever-so-gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

And once again, Isabella did her best to focus on inhaling and exhaling, on staying present in the moment…but this time, she wasn’t constantly reminding herself this was just pretend.

Because….what if it wasn’t?

Phineas was one of the most authentic people Isabella knew. Authentic to a fault, almost.

And that trademark authenticity, which she’d come to recognize in all of his inventions and actions and words in the years they’d been friends…..she recognized it now. In the hand cradling her face and the eyes gazing at her softly and the tender smile that hovered a mere foot or two from her own.

…perhaps Phineas had tried to ask her here on a date earlier.

Perhaps Buford had been right.

…

Thanks for reading!! And thanks as always to the lovely FrsdGirl for inspiring this fic and allowing me to write it and also for being just, the best ever, I adore you my friend🥺💕.

This isn’t the end btw, I know how this is gonna end, just haven’t written it properly yet!

[tatooedlaura-blog]

End of the Road

post-Redux/Redux 2

... their moments ... from now on ... Our Moments: Chapter 1: Five Words (post-Leonard Betts) Chapter 2: Sidebar Nonsense (post-Memento Mori) Chapter 3: Interim (floating somewhere around Unrequited) Chapter 4: Max 2.0 (post-Tempus Fugit/Max) Chapter 5: Shadowed Grey Eyes Chapter 6: The Warmest Thing I Own Chapter 7: Fancy Paper Napkins ​ Chapter 8: End of the Road (post-Redux/Redux 2)

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

He put her through hell the next two weeks and finally, seeing her on the other side of the hospital window, he splintered, leaning forward, unable to breath, overwhelming sorrow manifesting in yelled demands of people who couldn’t answer his pleas.

He thought he was quiet at her bedside that night, the world bearing down on both of them, but as he sobbed into her sheets, he felt her hand drift though his hair, nails lightly scratching scalp, “it might be a little tight, but I think we’ll both fit if we try.”

Mess that he was, he stood, dragged his hands over his face to clear away at least some of the nonsense before disappearing to blow his nose on some toilet paper from the bathroom. Coming back in, he shuffled towards her, whispering, “I snuck in. What if I fall asleep and can’t sneak back out?”

“I’m dying, Mulder. I can do what I want and right now, I want you in here with me.”

Deep breath of acceptance at her now-undeniable retort, he did as ordered, wedging himself behind her, back to front, arm hesitant over her belly, full length curl around her. He could feel her ribs against his forearm, her bony hip under his elbow, sharp shoulder blades pressing his chest, “we need to get you a milkshake.”

“If I could keep one down, I’d send you right now but puking up ice cream will just ruin it.”

“I see your point.” Sniffing latent snot back up his nose, he apologized, then, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Soaking up his warmth like a sponge, “I’m not sleeping that well these days anyway, and …” running off into oblivion, she finished the sentence a moment later, “well, I’d rather spend all the time I can with you, even if it’s at whatever the hell time it is and in a hospital bed.”

“A good cuddle does have its merits.”

That got a smile from her, “thank you.”

“For what?”

This time she found the words she couldn’t after he made her dinner, “for doing all those things that a partner would do; that a husband, a best friend, that family would do.”

Well, that made his heart break for the hundredth time that day, and mouth to neck yet again, his words rustled her hair and vibrated her soul, “well, you are my partner and my best friend, which makes us family and I think I fit the category of work husband so I’ve got all the bases covered.”

Reaching for his hand, she pulled it up to her face, kissing his knuckles before tucking it under her cheek, “we need to talk about a few things.”

“No, we really don’t.”

“Yes, we do. Let me take the fall, please? I need to know you’re okay once I’m gone.”

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

“We can have that argument tomorrow. Right now, just let me enjoy this, all right?”

She heard his mental screams of ‘Stop It!’ and she did, nodding against his hand, “all right but tomorrow, you’re listening to me.”

Wanting to cocoon her, tuck her inside himself, hide her away so the cancer and the fear and the reality of it all couldn’t find her, he hugged her closer, spooned behind her tight, “maybe.” That’s as good as she would get tonight and accepting it, she did her best to forget everything but the moment. A pleasant ‘hmm’ purred out a minute later and, hearing it as well as feeling it against his chest, “what was that for?”

Not realizing she’d made the sound until it was too late, “living in my moment, Mulder.”

“Our moment.”

For half a second, she wanted to cry, “You’re right. Our moment.”

&&&&&&&&&

He was gone when she woke up, the nurse checking on her telling her quietly, “he snuck out about 20 minutes ago.” Seeing her still sleepy look of disappointment, she smiled, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you; he’ll be back.”

Alone a moment later, she tried to work herself into a rage because he left without saying good-bye and without talking to her like she’d asked but, in the end, it was Mulder and she really should have expected it. Returning to her side, facing the door, she shut her eyes, imagining he was still behind her.

&&&&&&&&&&

He appeared the next day, glass vial offering a last-ditch effort in his fight to save her. He watched her argue with her family, fight her doctors, grasp onto a fading hope without which, she would be forced to make him sit, discuss funeral arrangements, ask him to give up while holding her hand.

&&&&&&&&&&

First Skinner left her room, then her brother, then, finally, Maggie, who gave him a hug and told him, without words but the slightest of head nods, that Scully was inside waiting for him. He gave it another minute, still processing, still gripping the bloody picture, still marveling at the news that was, indeed, real.

Opening her door slowly, the first thing he saw was not a smile but her piercing gaze that ranged in interpretation, over the years, from raging irritation to unbridled happiness. Todays was more of a confused relief bordering on reserved elation, “Mom says you’ve been sitting in the hallway.”

“Your mother deserved the first hug.”

“Are you going to be my third?”

“Patience, woman. I give you a hug now, we’ll both be crying for the next hour.” Shooting her his first mischievous grin in months, “I am breaking all kinds of rules still being here. Three people have asked me to leave already.”

She’d been prepared to talk for a few minutes, then go to sleep but suddenly, that wasn’t cutting it anymore, “You want to go for a drive?”

Finally approaching her, he pressed his thighs against the edge of the bed, leaning just enough forward but keeping his hands in his pockets, schoolboy asking a question of his favorite girl, “your place or mine?”

She hadn’t even thought that far ahead in the discussion but now that it was out there, hanging in the air, she gave him a smile, “your place. We haven’t been there in awhile.”

“Luckily I just changed the sheets a few days ago.”

Holding eye contact, swearing for one second she could actually see into his soul, she found herself moving her legs, bumping into Mulder as she sat upright, slid off the bed, “go find me my clothes.”

They didn’t so much sneak from the hospital as walk out, quietly, Scully’s bag in Mulder’s one hand, Mulder’s other on her back, pressed to muscle and bone, fingers loose-gripping the back of her shirt. No one said a word, elevator their immediate destination, anywhere else in the world their quest. The air was balmy, the breeze light, and Scully stopped the moment the automatic doors shut behind her, inhaling deep.

Mulder, nearly knocking her over, suddenly panicked, “what? What’s wrong?”

Her head spun, giddy and light, “just … overwhelmed for a minute.”

“Do you need to go back inside?”

Shaking her head vehemently, “no … no, I just … your place, please.”

“Food first?”

“No. I … that’s too much right now.” Looking up at her partner, suddenly exhausted, “a bed would be nice and some drugs when we get to your place.”

“Home it is, then.” He valeted the car, tucked her inside, and drove away, aiming towards his apartment. She was dozing by the second turn and fully asleep by the time he pulled up to the curb. Crouching beside her open passenger door, hand on thigh, voice low, he began coaxing her in a soft voice reserved for just such occasions, “hey, Scully? Wake up. We’re here and you’ve gotta stay awake long enough to deal with the front steps and the elevator.”

Blinking her eyes open, they rolled around for a moment before focusing, “okay. Don’t let me fall down.”

“Never.”

He wanted to laugh at her swaying walk, likening it to her drunken trek a year ago at her mother’s surprise birthday party. Not saying that aloud, however, he steered her to his door then inside.

He set her bag down, then took her coat, hanging it before heading toward the kitchen for a glass of water so she could take her meds and lay down. Asking over his shoulder what type of pain killer she wanted, he glanced back when she didn’t answer. Finding her still rooted to her spot beside the hat rack, he stopped, took in the tears already rolling, then held out his hand, waving her towards him, “come here.” She did, shuffling, leaving shoes behind and walking into him, the collision backing him up a few steps. Accepting the momentum, he continued moving, sitting down on the arm of the couch, level with her now, arms tight around her neck, her face hidden in his shirt, “what’s wrong?”

“It can’t be real, Mulder. It can’t. It shouldn’t have worked.”

“But it did. You saw the scans.”

“But what if I go to sleep tonight and wake up tomorrow and it’s back?”

Shifting her away, he settled hands on cheeks, thumbs against eyebrows, painting over them lightly, absently, as he tilted her head to meet her tear-y gaze, “it won’t be but if it is, but it won’t be, we will figure it out … together … all right? We got here once and we can do it again … but we won’t have to, so don’t worry about it.”

Her hands were around his wrists, “I think you just gave me a headache.”

“I’ve been giving you headaches for four years now. What’s new?”

“This.” Leaning in, she kissed him, barely brushing his lips but setting his world on fire in the process, “I’ve got, to sound trite, a new lease on life and I’m not wasting it.” Kissing him again, before swaying dangerously to one side, “but I am going to ask that we sleep through a little bit of it because if I don’t lay down soon, I’m going to end up on your floor.”

He wiped the few remaining tears from her cheeks before he kissed her back, light but claiming, “do you mind some company?”

“I have never minded your company.” Yawning, she turned white, an immediate sweat beading on her upper lip, “but I need to lay down … now.”

Walking her to the bed, he gave her a shirt and some shorts, some drugs and a glass of water, then, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Returning with a second blanket, he found her curled, body imprint stamped on ‘her’ side of the bed forevermore. His giddiness in the moment nearly made him laugh but containing it, he settled beside her, spare blanket at their feet. His hand went to her forehead, thumb in gentle circles between her eyebrows.

It was gone.

He had her back.

And he wasn’t going to waste a minute of the time they had left.

Which was a lot longer than they’d had mere hours earlier.

He didn’t fall asleep for hours.

Watching her breathe.

&&&&&&&&&&

Neither should have been awake but when Mulder opened his eyes, he found himself staring at an empty pillow and equally empty bed. Squinting towards the dawn-grey living room and the darkened bathroom, he looked over his shoulder, finding his target standing by the open window, leaning on the frame.

Rolling over, he tucked the pillow under his head, yawning, then watching her for a minute before she felt his eyes on her and turned towards him, quiet.

His mind was open and slow, filters off, walls down, and in that very moment, the only thing he had left in the world to say was “I love you.”

Her slow spreading smile lit up the darkening room, thunder rumbling as a storm moved in. It stopped just shy of a full-on grin, then dropped back to slightly upturn lip curl, sigh deep, eyes closing for a moment to collect the proper words from the universe, before sending them drifting across to him slow and steady, “and I … finally have the time … to love you back.”

Mulder’s smile spread at the same speed hers did, pushing into the pillow, squashing face glowing, “is this another one of our moments?”

“They are all our moments from now on, Mulder. All of them.”

[crash-cinematic-universe]

a beautiful sight

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: peter maximoff is good at getting himself into trouble. you’re good at getting him out of trouble. what happens when you get tired of the same old routine?

warnings: there is angst for a moment and then they just start fucking. language warning and also sexual content warning

notes: this took so long. this took me so long to write. this took me so long to write and i am so sorry about that. this is 4k words long i hope that eases the pain. also i tried to keep the pronouns gender neutral but since they are having sex the reader is written to have “female” genitalia

taglist:  @stranger-names @gooseyhouse @parkersdarling @amourtentiaa @toodles-me-doodles @rottenstyx

            Your hands gripped the leather steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip, your teeth clenching so hard you feared your jaw would snap. Fat raindrops smashed against the windshield before quickly being swept away by the automatic wipers. Street lamps and stop lights sparkle in the rain, making for a beautiful sight; if you were traveling under different circumstances, you’d probably enjoy the drive. Unfortunately, you were currently being crushed by your current situation, anger simmering within your stomach.

            You pulled up in front of the police station, a withering sigh escaping your chest before the car locks popped open. Determined to keep your composure in front of a bunch of cops-- who, admittedly, you were not on the best terms with-- you kept your chin up and expression stoic as you walked through the rain into the main lobby of the station. 

            The police station was exactly like how someone would expect it to be: the floor was covered with dull white, the walls a similar shade of white. An unsuspecting visitor would be immediately greeted by the uncomfortable and unwelcoming lobby, decorated only with a dying fern in the corner. Four grey chairs sat against the wall, a small wooden side table between them. There were magazines on the table, each one more brain dead and empty than the last. One could only compare reading said magazines to eating only empty calories for their entire lives. 

            A shell of a receptionist sat behind a large desk across the room, and you walked directly over. This one is new-- you’d been here three times in the past three months, but you didn’t recognize her. She was typing away at a computer, her eyes tired and sunken in. There was a coffee cup sitting next to her, but it looked as if it remained untouched for hours. Sluggishly, she looked up at you.

            “How can I help you?” Her voice matched her exterior, a deep fatigue dripping off her words, Obviously, she didn’t want to be there, but you couldn’t really blame her. Who would want to work in such a lifeless place?

            “I’m here to pick up my boyfriend,” You sound tired, not as tired as the receptionist, but still tired. She shoots you a sympathetic look.

            “Name?”

            “Peter Maximoff.”

            You catch a glimpse of the receptionist’s name tag, quickly learning that her name is Nicole. She types something into her computer, adjusting her glasses and leaning in slightly.

            “Alright, miss, he’ll be out in a few minutes. You can take a seat over there,” Nicole gestured over to the makeshift waiting room and you nodded. 

            “Thank you,” Like clockwork, you spun on your heel and landed in the uncomfortable chair that had gotten used to your presence. 

            You hated police stations. They had a certain soul-sucking quality to them; whether or not that quality comes from the poor souls that get thrown behind bars or the pieces of shit that put them there is up for individual interpretation. Police stations reeked of stale coffee and sweat, the occasional police siren cutting through the air every hour or so. The sound alone was hair-raising, especially to someone who landed themselves on the “wrong” side of the law uncomfortably often.

            The sound of footsteps approached the double doors to your left, and soon enough Peter walked through them, his hands still bound in handcuffs. The police officer that escorted him out unlocked his cuffs before disappearing back behind the doors, leaving the two of you in the lobby alone. Well, mostly alone. Nicole was still sitting behind the counter, looking as unenthused as ever. Peter rubbed his wrists, his pale skin an angry red where his cuffs constricted them. 

            He had a black eye, his silver hair messy and unkempt. The Nirvana t-shirt he was wearing was ripped, and dozens of small cuts and bruises littered his body. You already knew he got into a fight, you just didn’t realize how banged up he had gotten. A part of you pitied him. Upon seeing his injuries, you almost allowed yourself to let go of the anger that had been festering inside of you. Somehow, you restrained yourself. Silently, you turned and walked out the front doors of the police station.

            “Y/n--” Peter calls after you, an incoming apology hanging on his lips. You got to the car before he could catch up to you, quickly entering the driver’s seat and waiting in silence. Soon enough, Peter clambers in.

            “Y/n, I--”

            “I don’t wanna hear it,” you cut him off, frustration evident in your voice. Wisely, Peter held his tongue. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep recklessly running through the city doing whatever the hell you want. I can’t keep bailing you out, I won’t keep bailing you out.” 

            “I’m really sorry, doll,” He sounds like he’s being genuine, but you were going to need a lot more than one measly ‘sorry’. “I just… I saw these guys beating up some teenager in an alley. I couldn’t let that slide, and god knows the cops aren’t going to do anything about it. I did what I thought was right,”

            “I’m not mad at you for that, Peter. I would’ve done the exact same thing if I was in your position, I’m just… worried. I know you think you need to stand up for the little guys, but you can’t keep putting yourself at risk. I hate seeing you all beaten up like this,” You sighed, taking Peter’s hand in yours. His knuckles were bruised, the new purple splotches decorating his skin. The bruises from the last unfortunate encounter weren’t even fully healed you.

            “I swear, this is the last time you’ll have to do this. I promise,” He smiled weakly at you, and somehow, you managed to swallow the fury that had built up inside of you. 

            “It better be.” You ran your thumb over his injured hand, watching as the dark purple patches disappeared. Thankfully, your mutation guarantees that all of the scrapes and scratches will heal quickly. “Now, let’s go home so I can bandage you up.”

            “I’d like that,” Peter smiles softly. His hand remains in yours as he rests his head against the car window, watching other cars whiz by in the rain. The street lights illuminated the sharp angles and delicate curves that made up his face. Even with a busted lip, Peter was still one of the most beautiful people you’d ever seen. 

            The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the sound of raindrops pattering against the windshield lulling you both. It was late, the sun had long plunged past the horizon and a dusting of stars had appeared in the night sky. You noticed a few constellations as you drove to your apartment, the three signature stars of Orion’s belt catching your eye. A few months prior, Peter had taken you to a large field in the middle of nowhere, the scenery free of the light pollution the cityscape provided. He talked for hours about the stars, going from constellations to the lore behind them to the planets themselves; he even spoke about the star signs. He spoke with such passion, you felt as if you could listen to him talk for hours. 

            You pulled up in front of your apartment, quickly switching off the car. The rain gradually grows harder as you and Peter scurry up the pathway to the apartment lobby. Peter practically dragged you inside; it was obvious that he was struggling to contain his speed. As it turns out, hiding superpowers is much harder than initially expected. With every mutation-suppressing day that passes, Peter grows more antsy and you grow more anxious.

            “You alright, silver?”

            “Yeah, I just wanna get home,” he replies, but it’s too quick. He’s too eager to ward off your concern. He’s hiding something.

            “Peter, don’t lie to me,” Your words are obviously a warning, but they come out much softer than intended. Peter is visibly unwell-- you can’t believe you hadn’t noticed it sooner.

            “Really, I’m fine, it’s no big deal,” It was obvious that he was trying to reassure you and quell your worries, but he was failing miserably. Finally, he surrendered. “Seriously, I’m totally okay. I’m just a little sore and, uh… bleeding,” It’s only then that he lifts up the part of his shirt that hadn’t been torn, revealing a poorly bandaged gash-- you can only assume he got stabbed.  

            “Oh my god,” You gasped, taking a sharp step forward. “Peter, you-- what-- how have-- oh my god,” 

            “It’s okay! Don’t freak out, it’s just--”

            “It is not okay! Not in the slightest!” You pulled him into the nearest empty elevator, immediately slamming your hand on the button for the fourth floor. Peter looked pale and sickly, and upon closer inspection you realized that he was trembling. Still, Peter managed to smile softly.

            “I’m okay, dollface, really,” The elevator dinged, and you practically yanked him out of the small compartment. “Once we get home, you can patch me up, good as new, just like always,” 

            “Peter, why didn’t you tell me?” You fumble with the keys to your apartment, a metallic jingling punctuating your words. After what felt like a billion  years, you finally managed to shove the key into the handle and throw the door open. 

            Like clockwork, you fell into the routine you’d come to know so well. Peter sat on the kitchen counter, taking off his torn and tattered shirt and waiting patiently for you to come to his aid. You took a sharp left into the bathroom, your knees hitting the floor as you dig through the cabinet under the sink. The glimmering white gloss of the first aid kit caught your eye; within seconds you had yanked it out from between the extra toilet paper and the windex. Although you could heal the worst of the cut with your mutation, you still had to bandage it and disinfect the giant gash. 

            “Okay-- just try to hold still. You know the drill,” Peter nodded slightly, sharply inhaling as you pressed your fingertips to his pale skin. He leans back on his hands, his eyebrows furrowing as he hisses. The open wound on his abdomen begins to slowly recombine causing blood to gush out of the cut. You’re quick to wash it away with a wet cloth. As extraordinary as your healing abilities might be, they don’t take away the painfulness of any given laceration. For the next minute or so, your beautiful boyfriend is going to be in near agony. Peter’s head falls back as he tries his best to avoid looking at his injury-- he claims it “always makes it worse”.

            “We’re almost done, Peter. You’re doing very well,” You soothe, trying your best to make the process as quick as possible. Peter whimpers as the cut closes and the blood flow stops. The skin where the cut closed was still very red and tender, and any sudden movement risks reopening the wound. This one was particularly bad, the severity and depth of the injury dangerous enough to warrant the consideration of double bandaging.

            A deep sigh escaped your chest; you were tired of this routine. This awful, never-ending chain reaction that almost always ended with you trying to scrub blood out of your clothes. The police station, the arguments, the cuts and gashes and hushed apologies-- you were just so tired. And you loved Peter, you really did, but he didn’t love himself. He was willing to put his own survival on the backburner at the drop of a hat, and even though he usually came out fine, the thought of him getting hurt was weighing down on you. 

            “Y/n?” Peter chimes up, his voice pained and gravelly. You hum in response, too occupied with disinfecting the now healed cut to answer with a full sentence. Peter winced every time you pressed the washcloth to his skin. “I’m sorry,” he spoke softly, his voice wavering with each brush of the rag. Genuine remorse coated his every word, and beneath the gentle tremors and the sharp breathing, his voice is thick with building tears. 

            Peter sits up, a strangled grunt forcing its way out of his mouth. He moves slowly, trying desperately not to agitate the healing skin on his stomach. His shoulders slumped over and his head hung low, strands of silver hair falling over his eyes. It’s getting long. You’ll have to cut it later. Gently, you run your hand through his hair and pull his head up so your eyes meet. Some of the tears had spilled over, leaving glistening tracks in their wake.

            “I’m so sorry,” He coughed, although it seemed as if he was trying to cover a sob. You pulled him off the counter before wrapping your arms around his waist, minding his injury. His skin is warm and littered with scars. He practically collapses on your, gripping at your shirt like it’s his lifeline. “You do so much for me, and I always end up asking for more. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” 

            “Peter, it’s okay--”

            “No! It isn’t! You drove all the way across town at midnight to pick me up from  the police station, only to immediately find out that I got stabbed and decided to hide it from you,” he stuttered, his grip on you tightening ever-so-slightly. “I’ve been a really shitty boyfriend lately,” 

            “Hey, look at me,” you softly cup his face with your hand, running your thumb over the fading bruises from past altercations with assholes in alleyways. Peter Maximoff is nothing if not a hero at heart. “Yes, lately you’ve been reckless and it freaks me out. Sure, I didn’t exactly think I’d be spending my Friday night sitting in a police station waiting room. And, yeah, I’d prefer if you didn’t hide stab wounds from me, but you are not a shitty boyfriend. You’re a wonderful boyfriend who happens to have an uncontrollable urge to help others, even at your own expense,” You press a kiss to his forehead, brushing the hair out of his eyes once again.

            “I just don’t want you to get tired of me,” Peter’s voice is quiet and vulnerable, hesitancy hiding between the syllables. 

            “Me? Tired of you? Impossible,” you enthused, reveling in the slight smile that cracked on Peter’s porcelain face. “I just hope you don’t get sick of my constant worrying,”

            “You know I could never,” A grin grew on his face, and suddenly the sadness and the tension in the air was replaced with content. Peter looked at you with admiration, and within seconds his lips were on yours. 

            Any remnants of the anger you once felt was snuffed out like a dying candle. Your head felt warm and fuzzy as Peter’s hands found their way to your hips. If someone were to tell you that Peter had a secret secondary mutation that granted him the power to subdue any person just by kissing them, you’d believe them wholeheartedly. There was something about the way he leaned against you, encapsulating you in a tight embrace as every aspect of personal space was thrown out the window. You’d call it intimacy, but it seemed like so much more than that. Sometimes words aren’t heavy enough to describe what you felt for Peter, and what he felt for you. That’s alright, though. You do what you can with the words you have.

            Your silver-haired companion takes a tentative step forwards and you proceed to follow his lead, walking backwards until your back hits the wall. He huffs, pulling away from you for a split second so he can whirl you around; Peter always preferred to be the one against the wall, for lack of a better analogy. It didn’t take a genius or a prognosticator to see where this was heading, and judging by the eagerness behind his movements, Peter could see it too.

            Hesitantly, you push him away from you for just a moment. His chest rises and falls in a brisk rhythm as he rests his forehead against yours. You’re still pressed against his chest, and he’s still clutching you like you’re some sort of flight risk. Almost instinctively, you run your hand through his shimmering silver hair. 

            “Peter, less than ten minutes ago you were lying on my counter with an open wound. Are you sure you’re feeling up for this?” A wide smile grew on Peter’s face, and with each passion second you could see his signature cocky stature returning. You knew it wouldn’t last much longer, but hey, might as well let him enjoy it while it’s there. 

            “You fixed me up pretty well, dollface,” Peter pecks you on the cheek and a momentary chuckle escapes you. “I feel better already,”

            “Alright, if you say so,” You grab him by the collar and pull his lips to yours once again. The kiss was eager and needy-- Peter melted beneath your touches, just like always. You ran your hands over his bare skin, reveling in the shutters and shivers that ran up his spine. He pulled you closer, almost as if he thought you’d disappear if he let go. Gently, you raised your arm and began to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, accidentally tugging on the silver strands. 

            This seemed to set something off in Peter, and in the blink of an eye you found yourself lying on your bed with him hovering over you. His lips were on your neck in an instant, leaving a trail of soft kisses that led all the way down to your collarbone. You could feel Peter’s warm hands snaking under your shirt, tentatively caressing your skin. Although you’ve done this a thousand times, he was still incredibly focused on making sure you were enjoying the interaction as much as he was. 

            You spurred him on in the most obvious way possible; by pulling him back up to your face and flipping him over, swinging your leg over his hips and resting your hands on his bare chest. This position oh-so-conveniently happened to result in your knee pressing directly against Peter’s crotch. You’re quick to replace your knee with your hand, gentle palming him through his impossibly tight jeans. He swallows back a groan, his teeth digging into his bottom lip hard enough to break his skin. You’re quick to reach up and wipe away the blood that formed on his lip, a smirk growing on your face. 

            “Careful, pretty boy. Wouldn’t wanna hurt yourself any more than you already have, now, would you?” The sudden use of his favorite pet name sent shivers down Peter’s spine, his heart rate steadily increasing with every second that passes. You quickly unbutton his jeans before pulling them off, dragging your nails down his thighs as you do so. Before you had the chance to slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, he managed to use his mutation to flip you onto your back. His hands pinned your wrists to the mattress, a smirk stuck on his face. 

            “Y’know, you really do take great care of me,” Slowly, Peter starts making his way down your body. There’s something about how the light hits his face, casting shadows over his sharp features that make him look like some sort of greek god. He hooks his thumbs in the belt loops along your waistband, his eyes not leaving yours for even a second. “I think it’s about time I take care of you,” With that, Peter fluidly tugs off your jeans, discarding the rest of your clothing before settling between your thighs. He rests your legs on his shoulders, his hot breath fanning over your cunt and sending shivers up your spine. The feeling of light kisses on your thighs catches your attention and frustration spreads throughout your chest. You reach down and tug on Peter’s hair, whining in reaction to his ceaseless teasing. He looks up at you through his eyelashes with a cocky smirk growing on his face. After one last sultry look, Peter lurches forward and buries his face in the apex of your thighs. 

            A low moan escapes you as a soft string of praises falls from your lips. The grip you held on his hair tightened as Peter’s tongue circled your clit, sending white-hot waves of pleasure through your body. He pulls his hand off your thigh and immediately buries two of his fingers inside of you. Your head was scrambled, any semblance of coherency that you once had flying out the window with each jerk of Peter’s hand. 

            “Fuck, Peter,” You moaned just a little too loud. Just when you were regaining some sense of composure, the earth-shattering feeling of rapid vibrations ignites every nerve in your body. The combination of Peter’s vibrating fingers buried inside of you and the feeling of his lips working at your clit was just too much, and within seconds you were spasming around his fingers and calling his name. 

             You can’t bring yourself to form words, instead opting to pull him back up to your lips. All either of you could do was grab at each other, desperately trying to pull the other closer than you already were. Peter practically tore off whatever clothing that got in his way, leaving the both of you completely bare. With one last glance up at your face, he waited for confirmation before pushing his cock inside of you. 

            It was as if everything fell into place, the feeling of fullness and passion sending electricity through your body. You hooked your leg around his side, pulling him deeper inside of you as his thrusts fell into a steady rhythm. His pounding was relentless, his chest heaving with every jerk. Peter’s name fell from your lips like a mantra as he punctuated your words with deep thrusts. 

            “S-So good, Peter,” Your words are slightly slurred as you look up at his face. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration; long, low moans fell from his swollen lips, and for a moment, it felt like music to your ears. “Such a good boy for me,” 

            Peter whimpered and his movements faltered; in one final act of defiance, you used your leverage to flip in around once more. You anchor yourself on his chest before rolling your hips against his, watching Peter’s eyes roll back as you begin bouncing on his cock. A string of senseless noises and incoherent ramblings fall from his lips as he thrusts his hips upwards to meet your movement. His nails dig into your hips so hard that it hurts-- you can’t exactly blame him. 

            “Y-Y/n, please,” Peter begged helplessly, tears building in his eyes. He didn’t know exactly what he was begging for, but he begged regardless. The feeling was so much; it was everything at once, and it was so good he almost couldn’t take it. “P-please, please...” He trailed off. 

            One slight adjustment resulted in Peter slamming into your sweet spot, causing your moans to get damn near screams. Your nails left angry red trails on Peter’s chest, taking their place amongst the countless hickies you left behind before. Then, in a beautiful amalgamation of moans and whimpers and screams, you and Peter came in unison. He snapped his one last time before throwing his head back, emptying himself deep inside of you.

            You watch Peter’s face intently, his eyes fluttering closed and his hair sticking out in every direction. He was practically glowing; completely blissed-out with a golden halo hanging over his head. A soft smile played about his lips as he began to finally catch his breath-- it’s only now that you see the dozens of little marks you left on his body. An odd sense of pride filled your body and for a moment you felt like an expert artist admiring your latest mural. 

            Slowly, you pulled yourself off of him, collapsing to his side and exhaling deeply. He immediately wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you into his chest and pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. Peter is practically radiating warmth, a strong sense of comfort settling over you and you gently trace his collarbones.

            “I love you, y’know that?” His voice is quiet and dripping with fatigue; it’s music to your ears. 

            “Oh, really? I couldn’t tell,” You joked. Peter chuckled and rolled his eyes before resting his head on top of your shoulder. “Seriously, though, I love you too. Nerd.” He seemed satisfied with that response, nuzzling his face further into your touch.

            Rain softly drummed against the windows, light from the moon and from the city skyline reflecting off the droplets like a billion multi-colored stars. Peter had drifted off to sleep, the gentle glow from the outside world making him look like an angel that fell out of the sky and into your bedroom. Your eyelids grow heavy, and as you succumbed to the influence of a deep sleep, you kept your eyes trained on Peter’s face. He truly was a beautiful sight.