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nanatsumu · 3 years

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TEENAGE FEVER

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x f!reader, oikawa tooru x f!reader

synopsis: iwaizumi has strung you on long enough and you’re finally at the end of your rope.

genre: heavy angst... like make your heart wrench in pain heavy, one sided pining

warnings: manga spoilers, bad grammar (didn’t know it was that bad until i used grammarly), MATURE themes, drinking, smoking, alcohol, iwaizumi being an asshole (he’s also a frat boy because surprise! frat boys should never be trusted), subtle hints at sex, bittersweet ending

word count: 6.7K

series masterlist

part one | part two | part three | part four

“y/n we know you’re in there, someone told me they saw you run in here.”

great!

you slowly sit up from the toilet, dragging your feet across the bathroom tiles until you make it to the door and begin unlocking the lock at a snail’s pace. but before you can even get a chance to twist the doorknob, somebody is already doing so on the other side of the door and the next thing you know, reina’s screaming ‘HURRY UP’ and you’re assaulted by the bathroom door.

“REINA!” you scream as the result of the door flying into your face has you clutching your head.

“SHIT! SORRY Y/N!”

“geez, why are you so fucking slow,” oikawa complains as he sucks his teeth, pushing the door in a little wider so that you can see standing him behind reina as well. “did iwa-chan’s kiss mess you up that bad?”

“your friend is a prick, oikawa!” reina jabs him in the side, eliciting a grunt from the poor man. “it was supposed to be a quick smooch but that guy had to be extra and start using tongue!”

“what kind of guy kisses a girl who he’s only met once like that?!” your female friend cries.

“only someone as ballsy as him would even try and do that,” oikawa stops scratching his head, his eyes widening like saucers as if he’s just realized something. “and don’t put all the blame on iwaizumi! y/n, you literally moaned! and i even saw you kissing back!”

“don’t make me feel shittier than i already do oikawa!” you jeer.

“he...” you sigh and you can feel the tears start to prickle your eyes. “i feel so humiliated, and embarrassed.”

“and i-i felt so... so exposed.”

oikawa’s playful expression falters as he hears the hurt in your voice and manages to squeeze his way past a protesting reina before kneeling down so that he could meet your glossy eyes.

“listen, i’ll apologize on his behalf for now and i’ll take him about it later, alright?” he awkwardly pats your shoulder, not sure what to do as he’s never been in a situation where he’s had to comfort a girl bawling her eyes out.

“y-you... don’t have— t-to do that,” you whimper. “i’m just being a big crybaby, it’s just a silly kiss.”

“no it’s not!” reina blurts out a little louder than she intended to. “that prick completely disrespected you and embarrassed you in front of everyone! it wasn’t even a matter of him kissing you, it was a part of a game, but that dude took it too far and crossed the line!”

“listen, this is why i told you to stay away from him in the first place,” your roommate shuffles closer to you and pulls you in for a hug. “let’s go home alright?”

“let me walk you guys home, it’s getting late outside and even though you two are together, you never know what’ll happen.” oikawa offers, and while you are quick to accept, reina wavers momentarily.

“how do you know you’re not gonna take advantage of us, hm?”

“please, if i wanted to i already would’ve given the circumstances but i haven’t because i. do. not. want. to!” he smiles patronizingly which irks reina.

“whatever, but if you even think about trying anything then i’ll cut your dick off and feed it to my lizard.” she threatens but oikawa doesn’t take it to heart.

you finally get the last of your sniffles out as you stand up to your feet and exit the bathroom with oikawa and reina trailing along right behind you, similar to an assembly line of ducks— a very... tall duck, a crying duck, and an angry duck.

the walk home was rowdier than you had expected it to be. while you were quieter than usual and still in a bad mood from earlier events, that didn’t stop oikawa and reina though from causing a ruckus on the way back to the dorms.

“you’re telling me, that THAT’S hajime? like hajime iwaizumi? the notorious playboy of irvine?” reina gapes as she stares at the photo of iwaizumi back in high school that oikawa had saved in his phone.

even you were surprised to see what iwaizumi looked back then when reina practically shoved oikawa’s phone in your face, the brightness radiating from his phone screen only further irritating your bloodshot eyes.

while he still had a bit of muscle on him back then, he looked a lot lankier in comparison to his university counterpart who had grown twice in size. his once pale skin had become almost a sun-kissed tan color that complimented his features. but what shocked you the most was that the iwaizumi shown to you in the photos was free from any blemishes on his arms and his ears weren’t dressed in dangly silvers or studs.

“that’s iwaizumi?” your jaw dropped and oikawa was quick to make a teasing remark about how your mouth was wide open enough for flies to fly in.

“what happened to him?!” reina cries.

“sometimes i wonder why he hasn’t visited japan in the past 4 years but when i look back at this photo and then compare it to present him, i would piss my pants too if i were him and had to go back home to my mom.”

“does his mom not like tattoos or piercings?” reina questions as you and oikawa give each other a look before turning back to the girl.

“i don’t know about iwaizumi, but my mom is pretty strict about tattoos and piercings,” you start to explain. “she’s the ‘girls shouldn’t get tattoos!’ and ‘guys shouldn’t get piercings!’ type of mom, so she’s not completely against it, but if i came home with a huge ass tattoo like iwaizumi then she’d sure as hell chop my arm off.”

“japan’s pretty strict about piercings and tattoos, especially when it comes to students because tattoos are kind of a sign of the yakuza in japan,” oikawa adds in addition. “piercings aren’t as frowned upon as tattoos but it’s usually the younger kids who have ‘em.”

“yakuza?”

“like a gang basically? or a mafia i guess.” you answer reina to the best of your abilities.

you start kicking a pebble around and breathe in the crisp california air, watching as a puff of smoke escapes your lips with every exhale.

“you alright?” oikawa asks as he begins growing worried since you haven’t said anything in the past few minutes.

“yeah, just thinking,” you stuff your hands into your pockets and continue kicking the pebble beneath your feet. “california is a lot hotter than japan.”

“you think california is hot? just wait ‘till you spend a day in the summer heat in argentina.” he counters.

“maybe one day,” you say in consideration. “maybe when i graduate university i’ll consider traveling somewhere before my life completely revolves around paying taxes and bills.”

“if you do come to argentina one day then just give me a call and i’ll be more than happy to give you a tour around.” he beams.

“my cousin is playing volleyball in brazil, i think?” you say, remembering your mother telling you that hinata had gone to play beach volleyball in brazil. “he’s blood-related but he lived in miyagi while i lived in aomori so we never really got to see each other that much.”

“miyagi? i used to live in miyagi too!”

“huh? really? do you know a hinata shoyo then?” you ask, intrigued at the newfound information. “i heard from my mom that he started playing volleyball in high school so he’s probably played you once in a game if you played volleyball in high school too.”

“i did actually, his team beat mine during the qualifiers for spring nationals my last year of high school and man, i think i probably broke the record for most bowls of ramen eaten in one sitting that day.” he chuckles but it comes out sounding more half-heartedly in your ears, almost like he’s recalling an unpleasant memory from the past.

“so what made you go to argentina?” you ask and oikawa answers like he’s been asked this countless of times (which he has.)

“when i was a kid, there was this volleyball player i really looked up to,” oikawa starts. “his name was jose blanco and there was a tournament happening in sendai that i went to where he played against japan, and at the time there was a young ace on the team who was a fledgling star,”

“he made a big impression during the first half of the tournament but he started getting worse as things progressed. he was kind of off for the rest of the game and i thought that he was gonna be subbed out but it wasn’t until they switched setters that i noticed the ace was getting back into his groove. jose was a veteran setter, 38 years old i think? and if you were to be asked who the star of the game was then you’d probably say the ace since he was the one who scored most of the points right? but if you ask me, i think the setter was the star of the game!”

“he was so cool too! like he was so calm the entire time and he inconspicuously helped the ace get back on to his feet and just simply left the court,” oikawa continues to ramble. “i even got an autograph but that dumbass iwaizumi took the paper that i bought and got the autograph of some dude on the japan team so i had to give jose the jersey i bought earlier that day instead. although it did end up getting washed though....”

“hah! desperate much?” you laugh as you bump shoulders with him.

“desperate time for desperate measures! no way was i gonna leave without getting the jose blanco’s autograph!” he emphasizes.

unbeknownst to you and oikawa, a cheeky smile creeps upon reina’s face as she watches you and oikawa converse with each other like you two were long-time friends catching up for the first time in forever.

you, on the other hand, were starstruck by the man that is oikawa tooru.

the story he told you left you feeling heart-warmed because you noticed how his eyes sparkled and his lips curved into a genuine smile as he talked about his idol and the sport he is so passionate about. oikawa was many things: a flirt, a smooth talker, a sly fox, and he could get a little handsy sometimes— but you could tell the love he had for volleyball was like no other and you respected how committed he was to the sport, even going as far as to going to argentina in order to follow his long-time idol.

“i think it’s really cool that you’re so passionate about volleyball,” you smile as you peer up at the night sky. “in my opinion, i think being committed to one thing your entire life is a bit hard depending on who you are, but at least there are guys like you who are one-in-a-million.”

your words strike a chord in oikawa and reina is quick to notice the way his lips part as he holds his gaze on you.

“oh would you two quit flirting!” reina lets out an inhumane noise that startles you and oikawa.

“you scared me!” you take a deep breath and frantically clutch your heart.

“just say you forgot that i was here because you were too busy getting chummy with oikawa!” she groans while pulling her face.

“you’re just jealous i’m stealing your roommate away,” oikawa sticks his tongue out at your roommate before stopping in his tracks and pulling you into a hug. “but don’t worry! i’ll take extremely good care of her.”

“no way buddy,” reina takes a hold of your arm and uses all of her strength in order to pull you away from oikawa. “she was my roommate before she was your friend!”

“wow i feel so popular,” you say sarcastically, accompanied with a roll of your eyes. “it’s 1 now and i think i would very much rather be at home right now in my jammies instead of listening to you two bicker back and forth.”

“you don’t mean me do you, y/n?!” reina wails as she clings onto you.

“oh look! it’s a bear!” you point out to the other side of the street and reina snaps her head in the direction you’re pointing in.

“where?!”

with her attention off of you, you take this chance to slip away from her and run towards your dorm building along with oikawa who’s right on your tail.

“you’re... really... fast!” oikawa pants as he speaks in-between breaths. “like a lo— WOAH!”

he trips over a slab of concrete that was out of place and out of reflex, he latches onto the nearest object— and unfortunately, you were the closest thing he could grab onto.

“H-HEY!” you screech when you feel yourself being pulled down onto the ground.

with the split second that he had of clarity, oikawa took advantage of the opportunity and moved his hand under your head so that it wouldn’t make contact with the concrete and his hand, would instead, cushion your fall.

you hit the concrete with an ‘oof!’ and while you were awaiting the sharp pain in the back of your head to come, it never came. instead, you open your eyes only to see oikawa’s brown ones staring right back at you with an astounded expression that mirrored yours.

“so, how are you doing this fine night?” he grins.

“pretty good, up until your dumbass tripped and pulled me down with you,” you snort.

reina gasps dramatically when she catches up to you guys and sees the position you two are in.

“you deny your chumminess with him and then you run off to get all handsy with him!”

“this idiot tripped and then thought it would be a good idea to pull me down with him,” you stand up after oikawa offers to pull you up. “what kind of thought process do you even have to think that i could catch your fall?”

reina squeezes his bicep, triggering him to let out a yelp.

“oh it’s hard alright.” reina smirks as oikawa yanks his arm away.

“do you work out a lot?” you sneak up behind oikawa and put your hands on his broad shoulders.

“yup!” he flexes his arm and gives you both a cheeky smile. “i gained 10 kilograms of muscle mass!”

“1-10?! isn’t that like 20 pounds?!” reina gawks at the volleyball player.

“yeah and guess what, i only grew one centimeter so it was all me baby!” he laughs almost mockingly.

the rest of the walk home was full of laughter and heartwarming bantering between the three of you and you were happy that you were able to meet reina, an amazing roommate, and oikawa, who was a cocky shit but still managed to squeeze a laugh out of you.

it was going to be a long 4 years away from home, but just as long as you were surrounded by the right people, you were sure that these 4 years would fly by in a jiffy.

when you guys finally arrived at your dorm building, you notified reina that you would stay outside and chat with oikawa for a bit and so she gave you the okay and headed up to your room first so that she could get ready for bed since she was about ready to knock out right then and there.

“thanks for walking me home, oikawa,” you pull him in for friendly hug that he didn’t expect, but nevertheless, he hugs back anyway because who is he to decline a hug from you? “i feel bad for having you walk me home even though you probably want to hang out with iwaizumi.

oikawa feels his stomach churn at the mention of his best friend and guilt creeps upon him like bile rising in the back of your throat.

oikawa had turned a blind eye to iwaizumi’s bad habit of playing around with girls and leaving them after he’s had his fair share of fun because iwaizumi was his best friend and despite the drastic transformation he had gone through within the 4 years that they’ve been away from each other, oikawa knew deep down that he was still the iwaizumi he knew and loved— the iwaizumi who had stuck with him through thick and thin during his adolescent years.

however, now that he’s taken the time to familiarize himself with you personally and grow to learn what type of person you were— someone with a good heart but isn’t afraid to voice their own opinions and stand their ground when people try to walk all over them— he can’t help but be greedy and want you all for himself.

“say, y/n,” you give him a soft hum in response which prompts him to continue taking. “you wanna grab some milk bread with me tomorrow at the cafe you were talking about?”

“are you asking me out on a date right now?” you wheeze. “you’re pretty bold for asking out someone you’ve only met twice your entire life.”

“it’s not a date unless you want it to be.” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“a platonic date sounds good to me, don’t you think?”

“there’s no such thing as a platonic date, y/n.”

“maybe not to you since you’re probably used to girls flocking around you all the time,” you say and he’s visibly upset at the fact that you think he’s a casanova or something when in reality he still hasn’t had his first girlfriend yet. “so you in? i’ll even call it a date if you’d like.”

“yeah i’m in,” he puts his fist out for a fist bump, which you are content with returning, and he beams at you with the biggest smile you’ve seen him give you. “does the afternoon work for you?”

you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket and open up the contacts app before handing it to the male.

“just give me your number and we can go over the specifics over text tonight.”

he punches in his number, saving the contact as “tooru👽” before handing the device back to you.

“an alien emoji?” you laugh as you read his contact name displayed on your phone. “you’re a dork.”

“like you’re any less of a dork than me.” he playfully rolls his eyes as he pulls his phone out and gives it for you to return the favor.

you clumsily put your number into his phone, accidentally pressing some random digit one too many times, and save your name as “y/n :3” before handing his phone back to him.

“a bunny face?” he threw his head back and let out a humorous laugh.

“shut up!” you give his shoulder a gentle push. “as if an alien emoji is any better, at least my emoticon is cute!”

“yeah yeah, whatever you say.” he slips his phone back into his pocket before giving you one last final hug that feels a bit warmer than the ones he’s given you before.

“get home safe, oikawa.”

his eyes linger on your face for a bit longer than he would’ve liked.

your eyes were crinkled and your smile lines were more prominent up close, but it didn’t stop oikawa’s heart from skipping a beat.

“sweet dreams y/n.”

you awaken the next morning to the sound of your phone ringing and reina’s abnormally loud snoring (you’re surprised that the girls in the next room over haven’t come knocking at your door telling your roommate to snore a little quieter.)

with the sleep still present in your eyes, the brightness of your phone screen causes you to squint before your vision clears up and you’re able to make out the numbers ‘7:30 A.M’ displayed across your screen.

when the haziness finally leaves your system, you take a look outside your window and realize that the only speck of sunlight present at all is the sunlight that’s provided by the rising sun, peeking out from across the horizon.

you mentally curse oikawa out in your head as your fingers dance across your keyboard to type out a brief response to oikawa’s suspiciously ominous text message.

you reluctantly get up from your bed and slip on your fuzzy bunny slippers before treading over to your door, unlocking it, and then swinging it open, revealing your tall, brown-haired friend standing right where he said he would be.

“nice jammies,” he lets loose an unrestrained, boisterous laugh as he reaches out to fix the strap of your tank top which slipped off your shoulder. “i dig the bunny slippers by the way.”

you haphazardly shuffle your feet, gaining a smile from oikawa as he chuckles softly.

“can i come in?” he peers into the room by leaning over a bit where he sees reina sprawled out in a weird position on her bed, snoring loudly.

“uh, reina’s actually asleep,” you sheepishly scratch the back of your head. “the dorms don’t have separate bedrooms, everyone just sleeps in the same room with their respective roommates.”

“so movie night’s no longer in question?”

“i guess if you don’t mind reina being a plus one,” you shrug as you gesture for him to come in, letting him enter the room first so that you can close the door on your way in. “she’s a heavy sleeper so don’t worry about waking her up.”

oikawa throws himself onto your bed, even going as far as to slipping under your covers and making himself right at home, which, you don’t hesitate to scold him for doing so.

“what’s the point of coming all the way over here just to go back to sleep?” you cross your arms as you walk over to your bed, your knees hitting the edge of the mattress.

“the bakery opens at 8:30 so i wanted to pick you up since the walk there is 25 minutes from here,” oikawa pulls his phone out and checks the time. “it’s 7:37 now so hurry and get ready!”

you shuffle over to the worn-out dresser that has been with you since the day you moved into the dorms and pull out the drawers that contain a majority of your most worn pieces. taking into account the outfit that oikawa was currently sporting— an oversized hoodie, a loose pair of sweatpants, and some sneakers that looked to be on the pricier side— you decided that wearing something similar to that would suffice.

“can you turn around?” you ask as you grab a pair of black sweatpants, not bothering to check the design since they looked all the same anyways, and an oversized hoodie that you forgot you even had in your possession.

“hm? why?”

“i’m gonna change?” you shrug. “unless you don’t mind staying here by yourself? or you can just step outside for a minute if you want to.”

“oh yeah, sure.”

you watch as he heeds your request and begins to turn around to face the wall before proceeding to take off your pajamas, making sure to keep a close eye on him just in case he decides to be a peeping tom.

“you know, you’re pretty credulous trusting a guy you’ve only met last week.” he says as he rocks side to side, head still turned facing the wall.

“well i don’t have to worry about you peeping because i’m already done changing,” you pull down the rest of the bunched up fabric of your hoodie that’s around your waist before slipping on a random baseball cap you saw laying around. “even if you did turn around, i have a 5-pound textbook and i’m not afraid to use it.”

oikawa’s about to make a snarky remark in return to your futile threat when suddenly a loud snore escapes reina’s mouth, encouraging the two of you to give each other a flabbergasted look that leads to you both erupting into a fit of hushed laughter.

“let’s go before reina wakes up and gets a heart attack after seeing you in here.”

“no way!”

after exiting the dorm building and beginning your journey with oikawa to the designated cafe, you two arguing about whether or not milk or cereal should go first after oikawa mentioned to you that he was a firm believer of “milk first, cereal last.”

“if you put milk in first then you’re just gonna get less cereal and who the fuck eats cereal just to drink the cereal milk?” you shoot him a grimace.

“when you pour in the cereal after the milk, then it’s just gonna float there and who takes satisfaction in seeing that shit?” you add. “that’s why cereal first is way better because you get a bowl full of cereal and it’s just... perfect!”

“but your cereal is gonna be soggy by the time you put the milk back in the refrigerator!” oikawa retorts.

“then just wait until after you’re done to put it away? how long do you even take to put the milk back in the refrigerator that when you come back your cereal gets all soggy?!”

“and aren’t you supposed to be an athlete? i’m seriously concerned if it takes you at least over 15 seconds just to put back a carton of milk.” you take a jab at him.

“i will not allow this oikawa slander from you!” he stops in his tracks before abruptly picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“h-hey! put me down! i’m heavy, oikawa!” you squirm around in protest, but oikawa shows no sign of letting you go anytime soon as he starts to pick up his pace.

“i didn’t gain all of that muscle for nothin’ baby!” he laughs maniacally as he’s practically full-on sprinting down the street now.

luckily enough, the cafe was just around the corner of the street that oikawa started running down from which meant there was finally a reason for the male to let you down, despite the fact that you had been punching his back for the last minute or so but you couldn’t seem to crack him, his arms, nor those broad shoulders of his.

you let out a huff of feigned annoyance once you’re down on your feet while oikawa is still laughing his ass off as you two walk into the establishment.

“not funny! i almost dropped my hat when you pulled that stunt!” you complain as you’re frantically trying to fix your hair: when oikawa abruptly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, the baseball cap on your head was about to fall off but thankfully with your reflexes, you were able to catch it in the nick of time— however, at the price of your own hair.

“here, i got you,” oikawa extends his hand out to your head and starts to brush away at your mess of a hair. “if it makes you feel better, it’s on the house.”

“i was gonna make you pay anyways.” you stick your tongue out at him playfully, feigning annoyance.

“pft, and you brought your wallet anyways?” he grabs your wrist and pulls it up so that you could see the object in your hands.

“it has my id in it you doofus,” you roll your eyes but there’s a hint of blush on your face as you realize he’s practically holding your hand. “and what if you forgot your wallet, hm?”

he lets go of your wrist before slipping his hand into his sweatpants pocket and pulling out a black wallet.

“i never forget my wallet sweetheart,” he winks and you laugh. “especially if i know i’m gonna be going out with a pretty lady— don’t wanna leave a bad impression y’know”

“i think you’ve already left quite the impression on me from your stunt earlier.” you bump shoulders with him.

“so see anything you like on the menu?” he puts his hand on the small of your back and guides you over to where the menu is so that you could get a closer look at all of the options the cafe had to offer its customers.

“we’ll... we did come here originally for milk bread,” oikawa notices how deep in thought you are over something as trivial as baked goods and he can’t help but smile a bit when he notices the little pout on your face or the crease that forms on your forehead when you scrunch your face a little bit. “but i wanna try their matcha bread! and their boba looks good, or is it a little bit too early to be drinking boba?”

oikawa’s so lost in thought (*correction: staring at you) that he doesn’t even realize that you’ve been trying to grab his attention by calling his name 5 times— and it’s only when you physically have to shake him a bit that he snaps out of his little daydream.

“oh, sorry!” he gives you an apologetic smile. “what’s up?”

“i was asking if you wanted to share one of their drinks with me but you were too busy staring at me to hear.” you sneer. “do you have a crush on me or something? heh.”

“pshhh, no way!” he has a sheepish look on his face that you can’t stop yourself from laughing at.

“you better not go falling for me anytime soon, you playboy.” you jest while nudging him with your elbow.

“i’m pretty sure i should be the one telling you that,” he rolls his eyes playfully. “i’m surprised you haven’t confessed your undying love for me yet.”

“i don’t fall in love that easily, pretty boy, and i certainly do not fall in love with someone i’ve only recently met.” you snort at his comment.

“hi there! are you two ready to order?” a voice startles you and oikawa as you both turn your heads towards a woman standing behind the counter.

“oh i’m so sorry about that! i’m sure you didn’t come to work just to see the two of us play around.” you giggle as the woman mirrors your action.

“it’s nothing new to me, it seems like this place is a hotspot for couples to come and hang out so it’s kind of the norm for me now.” she reassures you.

“are you a college student?” you ask the cashier, taking note on how she looked to be around your age.

“i actually graduated from culinary school about 2 years ago,” she starts off. “my parents supported me throughout my 4 years of culinary school, but when it came down to actually opening this cafe, my boyfriend— well, fiancé now— helped me look for a good place to rent out and it was history from there!”

“it was a bit hard at first since i was still fresh out of culinary school and i could barely start this business with the funds i had saved up, but thankfully my boyfriend was able to pitch in and help make my dreams come true,” she continues and you feel your heart grow fuzzy at how whenever she mentioned her boyfriend, her face would soften and a small smile would make its way onto her face. “i honestly cannot imagine a life without him, he’s been with me since high school so he’s always known about my longtime dream of owning my own cafe. he’s always been my rock during my hardest times and— oh my! i started rambling didn’t i?”

she starts to apologize for burdening you with her life story, but you dismiss her worries by waving your hands in front of you, oikawa laughing and copying your motions.

“i think he’d be really happy to hear that you think so lovingly of him.” your lips curve into a gentle smile, which the woman reciprocates.

“what’s your name?” she asks.

“i’m y/n! and this big guy is tooru.” oikawa waves at the woman, her following suit.

“ah i see! well y/n and tooru, my name is maia and it’s so nice to meet you two!” she brings her hand out for a handshake, which you and oikawa return. “are you two college students?”

“yeah! i’m actually a student at the university of irvine!” you answer enthusiastically. “tooru is just visiting from argentina at the moment so i wanted to take him around the area before he left.”

“argentina, really?” her mouth forms an ‘o’ shape. “it must be hard doing long distance, huh? i couldn’t even imagine if my fiancé and i had to live that far away from each other.”

you and oikawa turn to look at each other in confusion before an invisible lightbulb goes off in both of your heads and you bring your attention back onto maia, who’s now equally as confused as you two are.

“we’re actually not dating!” the pink hue from earlier creeps back onto your cheeks and from the corner of your eye you can see oikawa fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie. “i met him at one of the frat parties i went to last week and we kind of just clicked.”

“i’m so sorry for assuming!” she has a distraught look on her face and you’re quick to tell her that it was just a misunderstanding. “you two just look really cute together, plus i’m also really used to a lot of couples coming here that i was quick to assume that you two were dating!”

“i mean, we’d be a cute couple right, y/n-chan?” gone was the nervous oikawa you saw just a second ago, and back was the cocky oikawa you all know and love.

“you wish!” you scoff, not bothering to shrug off the arm he slung around your shoulder.

“anyways, is it alright if we can get two of your milk breads as well as a matcha bread and a oolong milk tea with boba?” you order and maia quickly input the order into the tablet in front of her.

“will that be all for you today?”

“anything else you want, oikawa?” you ask him but he shakes his head in response. “i think that’ll be all for us today then, maia.”

you’re about to insert your card into the chip holder when suddenly oikawa grabs your arm and plucks the card out of your hand.

“h-hey! what are you doing? give me my card back!”

“didn’t i tell you that it was on the house earlier?” he looks at you with a teasing smirk on his face and before you could protest again, a pleasant sound comes out of the machine, signaling that the transaction was successful.

“such a gentleman! you should snatch him up before someone else does, y/n!” maia coos.

“i think it’d be best for someone else to snatch him up, i don’t think i could handle all of... this.” you motion to his entire body.

“are you flirting with me?” oikawa had a shit-eating grin on his face that you were so tempted to wipe off, but his actions from less than a minute ago still caught you off guard and you had to admit, you were glad he wasn’t a cheapskate and offered to pay in your stead— well, more forced you out of paying.

“thanks, oikawa,” you didn’t know what you had the other day to make you act so bold, but you stood on your tiptoes and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek out of gratitude. “for being the only gentleman on campus, even though you’re technically not a student here.”

out of instinct, oikawa’s hand immediately flys up to the spot where your lips touched his skin and starts to graze it.

“heh, i like your spunk, y/n.” he shows you a cheeky smile.

“don’t let it get to your head, it was just a complimentary kiss.” you laugh and it sounds more melodious than usual to oikawa’s ears for some reason.

“so...” he starts and you let out a small ‘hm?’ which prompts him to continue. “do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

“i don’t think so? i have the dorm all to myself from when reina goes to her blind date and up until she comes back, so if you wanna do something then i don’t mind squeezing you into my schedule!” you reply, but a thought suddenly resurfaces in your mind. “no frat parties though, i heard one of iwaizumi’s friends are hosting one tonight but i don’t think i can think about another frat party without having to gouge my eyeballs out.”

“got it, no frat parties,” oikawa chuckles. “if it makes you feel any better, i never liked those frat parties anyways and i only went because iwaizumi is the only person i know here which meant i was obligated to follow him around everywhere but now that i know you, it changes the whole game!”

“i’m just as new to california as you are oikawa, don’t get your hopes up too high.”

“but that’s the fun part about it, right? we get to explore california together! it really feels like we’re a couple don’t you think?” he blurts out in the heat of the moment but quickly comes to realize the weight of his words. “oh shit— sorry... i hope you’re not uncomfortable hearing me say that out loud.”

“not at all!” you look down at your shoes for a fleeting moment before looking back up at oikawa. “it’s quite... endearing? i’ve never really had a lot of ‘guy friends’ and mostly hung around with girls so this is the first time i’ve ever really had a guy show any interest in me— platonically of course!”

“and you’ve never ever had a boyfriend before?” oikawa lifts an eyebrow.

“nope, never even had my first kiss,” you say but you think back to the events that took place last night. “well, up until yesterday...”

you tried to hide the grimace on your face as the memory of you and iwaizumi kissing kept playing on repeat in your mind, but oikawa was able to see right through your mask and clenched his fists as he recalled the distressed look on your face when he and reina found you crying in the bathroom.

oikawa believed that you should have deserved to have your first kiss taken by someone who truly loved you, but instead, it was taken away by his scum of a best friend, who, he was currently disappointed in for treating you the way he did last night.

oikawa is about to open his mouth up to say something, but he’s interrupted before he even gets a chance to say anything when maia announces that your order is ready.

“it smells so good, maia!” you say after you skip over to the other side of the counter and take a whiff of the freshly baked pastries.

“oh you’re making me blush, y/n!” maia cups her cheeks bashfully while you laugh at her antics.

you shake up the cup of boba so that the pearls were evenly distributed throughout the drink before taking a straw and puncturing a hole through the film on top of the cup, taking a small sip after you mix the drink around one last time with the straw.

“mhm! so good!” you lean back, not realizing that oikawa had moved to stand right behind you, resulting in you crashing into his chest.

“shit, you scared me oikawa!” you laugh as you slap his chest. “want some?”

you hold the straw up to his lips, and you notice the way his eyes widen by a fraction.

“you wanna share?”

“well yeah? unless you’re scared of getting cooties or something, what are you? 12?” you tease. “or are you worried that it’s an indirect kiss? i can always get another—”

your rambling is cut off when his lips wrap around the straw and he takes a long sip of the drink in your hand.

“there, we just indirectly kissed!” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before shooting you a goofy grin.

“pft, how childish do you have to be to be freaked out over an indirect kiss.” you mumble, but it doesn’t cover up the blood that rushes up to your face, painting your cheeks in a pinkish hue which oikawa finds endearing.

part one | part two | part three | part four

TAGLIST:

@katsukibabe • @thecaptainyuri • @satorisflatass • @daphnxy • @aonenthusiast • @felixsamour • @literaleftist

+ SEND AN ASK OR SEND A MSG TO BE INCLUDED IN THE TAGLIST!

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goldenraeofsun · 3 years

Text

4:01 PM

Dean sips his whiskey and glowers across the bar at his own reflection. His wrist is burning like a brand, but it’s probably all in his head. The stupid timers don’t cause physical pain when they reach T-minus zero, Houston we have a problem. The numbers freeze, and that’s that.

Dean’s had counted down to nothing at exactly 4:01 PM, fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes of running into his soulmate, getting his number, continuing on his way to this bar, and telling the bartender to keep ‘em coming.

He refuses to look at the far corner of the room, the booth he had reserved like an idiot. Four PM, party of two, under the name Winchester.

On the bar by his glass, his phone is still lit up with Cas’s texts from the past hour.

Cas 3:11 I’m so sorry I have to move our appointment. My client just unexpectedly switched our time to 4pm.

Cas 3:21 I think I’ll be able to escape by 4:30. Can I meet you then?

Dean had responded with a thumbs-up emoji. He didn’t have it in him to say any more.

Cas 3:50 This city is impossible to navigate. How does anyone live here?

Cas 3:58 You were right, I should have rented a car.

Three minutes after Cas’s last text, Dean ran into his soulmate. Right on schedule.

As far as first meetings go, it hadn’t been as much of a shitshow as Dean had expected.

The dude was attractive, at least, and the first thing he did after bumping into Dean was apologize. But he was wearing a tailored suit and glued to his phone, so it definitely could have been better.

His soulmate would’ve run off none the wiser, except Dean had to blurt, “Wait!” because, despite his disappointment, Dean couldn’t let his soulmate disappear into the throngs of Michigan Avenue. Dean wasn't about to fall to one knee, but he also couldn't let his best shot just go.

The man stopped, irritated. His gaze refused to linger on Dean, instead fixating on a building at the end of the block.

Head swimming with too many thoughts to name, Dean couldn’t get the right words out. He gestured mutely to his wrist, pulling up the flannel to show him.

Eyes widening with understanding, his soulmate quickly tugged up the cuff of his sleeve, only sparing a second to verify his own timer stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice.” he said, distracted. “My name is James. Here,” he fished out a pen and something to write on from various pockets of his trench coat, “my number. We… should talk. Later.” He scowled, raising his other wrist to check at his watch. “I need to go.”

“Sure, man,” Dean said, mostly grateful he didn’t have to stick around and have some heart-to-heart with a stranger that was apparently meant for him. Whatever the fuck that actually meant.

“Thank you,” James said swiftly. Without another word, he took off back down the street.

Dean didn’t bother to watch him go. He had a barstool waiting with his name on it.

Sam will laugh himself silly once Dean tells him his perfect match wound up being some corporate suit. Dean once told him he’d rather microwave his own head than set foot in an office cubicle.

Sammy was the big soulmate skeptic in the family. He found his non-timer approved other half while he was protesting an illegal dismissal of a disabled employee. Three years later, when Sam bumped into Gabriel Crawford in a strip club at midnight on Dean’s birthday, he discovered Gabe was perfectly happy to let Sam live his apple pie life while Gabe continued to party like it was 1999.

Gabe made Sam promise to look him up if Eileen was ever down for a threesome.

Turned out, Eileen was.

Sam most certainly was not.

He still sends Gabe a card for the holidays, and usually Gabe sends him back candy samples from wherever he’s vacationing for the winter.

But everyone else Dean knew bought into the soulmates game, hook, line, and sinker. His parents were soulmates. Benny and Garth both settled down with theirs. Charlie and Aaron were holding out for theirs. Hell, even Jo had her weird thing with Bela Talbot.

Dean would’ve counted himself among their number - until he met Cas.

Well, until Cas messaged him on Bobby’s new ask-a-mechanic feature on the garage’s website. Cas had inherited a banged up 1967 Mustang and had no idea where to start with restoration. Apparently Gabe of all people was staying with Cas at his place in southern California, and he recommended Dean.

Why Cas couldn’t just look up a local place still baffles Dean to this day, but he has never been more grateful for Cas’s weird-ass logic.

Their relationship had stayed strictly professional until Cas’s actual car broke down on some random highway in California. Dean had tried to talk Cas through the repair himself, but it was no use. Cas either didn’t have the equipment for the fix, or Dean didn’t diagnose the right problem. Dean was about to hang up, when Cas had asked, clearly embarrassed, “Would you please stay on the line? I have this irrational fear of being murdered in the middle of nowhere where nobody can find my body for proper rites.”

Dean, almost surprising himself, didn’t laugh. Instead, he said, “Sure thing. Wanna put me on hold while you get in touch with Triple A?”

He spent an hour and a half on the phone with Cas, telling him stupid stories about the worst things people have done with their cars.

In return, Cas told him all about the stars that were just coming out in the darkening desert sky.

The week after, Bobby’s garage received a gift certificate in the mail. It was for a weeklong stay at the Chicago location of the five-star hotel chain Cas works for, in Dean’s name.

Those little chocolates on the pillows ruined Dean for motels everywhere.

At the bar, Dean signals the bartender for a refill. He glares down at his phone. The little rectangle contains his entire history with Cas, call logs, text receipts, everything.

He can’t look at it any longer. He shoves it in his pocket, and the receipt with his soulmate’s phone number crinkles in protest. With a sigh, Dean takes out the flimsy piece of paper.

James’s handwriting is neat, so Dean doesn’t even have the excuse of not being able to read a digit or two.

Maybe Dean will give him a call after his drink with Cas. Hopefully, once James finds out that Dean’s just a mechanic, lives in a shoebox apartment in Bucktown, and has never been to Aspen or the Alps, he’ll tell Dean to take a hike.

Dean flips the receipt over, and his stomach gives a sickening lurch. In pretentious curlicue lettering, the first words Dean reads are, The Nine Spheres.

James is staying at Cas’s hotel.

Fucking great. Dean crumples the receipt and shoves it back in his pocket. With his luck, James will probably want to meet in the restaurant on the first floor, the fancy-ass place with the steakhouse burger and truffle fries Dean would actually sell his soul for.

Dean actually dreamed about that burger, a few months after his Cas-sponsored stay. When he told Cas about it, Cas let out a bark of laughter.

In the next breath, though, he told Dean he does the same when he’s scoping out a new location and can’t stay at a nearby Nine Spheres.

Dean tips back his glass of whiskey. It’s stopped burning on the way down his throat, a good sign.

He was so stupid, thinking he could fuck with destiny, fate, or whatever shitty power up there decides soulmates.

Once Cas told him about his business trip to his neck of the woods, Dean had taken one look at the numbers on his arm counting down and did the math. He would meet his soulmate smack dab in the middle of Cas’s window in Chicago.

He could make Cas be his soulmate. Cas never brought up his timer, if it was still ticking, if he’d already met his other half. And Dean, coward that he was, never asked. If he didn’t know for sure, then there was that slim, slim chance that theirs matched up after all.

But no, Cas had to go and switch up their meeting time at the last second, and Dean had run into James instead.

His pocket buzzes with a new text. Mood lower than Cas’s voice register, Dean slides his phone out.

Cas 4:38 My meeting is over. Should I still meet you at the same place?

Dean 4:39 Yeah Hope its okay I got started without you

Cas 4:40 More than okay, considering my scheduling difficulties.

Dean 4:40 See you soon

Dean sighs and drains his glass.

Foot jiggling on the barstool and eyes trained on his hands clasped in front of him, Dean deliberately does not look around as the door opens.

And opens again.

And again.

Confused and irritated, Dean takes another look around. Above the bar, a chalkboard clearly proclaims Happy Hour from 4:30-6:30 PM. Dean ducks his head, scowling into the remains of his drink. He probably overlooked the sign before because of his single-minded quest to get shitfaced like a freshly-dumped senior at prom stuck next to the spiked punch bowl.

His phone obnoxiously tells him it’s 4:43.

That’s just great. Dean hops off the stool, meaning to ask the hostess if anyone’s asked for Winchester, when James pushes open the door.

Dean stops dead in his tracks.

James freezes, his eyes going wide. His trench coat swishes ominously to a stop.

Should Dean turn around? Pretend he didn’t see? Cas is going to be here any second.

Before he can make up his mind, James is walking towards him. “Hello,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here.”

Dean swallows. “Me neither,” he says honestly.

James scans the small crowd now gathered around the bar, brow furrowing in concentration. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

Dean lets out a silent exhale of relief. He musters up a weak smile. “No problem, man. I’ll leave you to it.” As he turns back around, James steps up to the hostess stand.

James says, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the din, “I’m a bit late, but is there a reservation for Winchester? For 4:30?”

Dean could not possibly have heard what he thinks he did. But the timing is right - for once. He spins around, practically losing his balance thanks to the booze he already drank.

The hostess scans her sheet of names, shaking her head. “There was a reservation for Winchester at four PM, but that’s it.”

James’s face falls. Shoulders slumping, he pulls out his phone, squinting as the screen lights up. “He said he was here,” he mutters.

He can’t be Cas. That would be crazy - like, dingo ate my baby, crazy.

“Could be at the bar,” the hostess says flippantly, tilting her head to the crowded area. “Most of ‘em don’t check in.”

James’s lips press together. “Thank you,” he says to the hostess, his tone clipped. “I’ll wait there.”

Dean steps in front of him before James can get lost in the throng of people. “I heard you’re lookin’ for me,” he says with a confidence that’s only 99% bullshit.

James blinks. “You?”

“Dean Winchester, at your service,” he says, spreading his arms wide.

“Dean,” he echoes, his gaze raking up and down Dean’s body, drinking him in with his new eyes.

“Gotta say,” Dean drawls as his heart pounds with nerves. Doubt niggles at the back of his mind like an itch he can’t scratch, but he’s already made his memory foam bed. Might as well lie in it. “Cas is the weirdest nickname for James that I’ve ever heard.”

“My full name is James Castiel Novak,” Cas says, flushing. “James - that’s what I go by professionally. My family calls me Castiel.”

Dean can’t hold back his broad grin. “Family, eh?”

Cas’s expression takes a swift dive from embarrassed to mortified. “And friends,” he tacks on. He takes a step closer, staring at Dean’s face in wonder. “But you’re also my soulmate.”

Dean laughs giddily. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t beat around the bush. Not your style.” He jerks his head towards the bar. “I think I see an open seat. You wanna have that talk now?”

Cas hesitates. “Would you like to go to Nine Spheres instead? I’ve had business dinners every evening I’ve been in Chicago so far, and, while the food has been good-”

“It’s not the steakhouse burger?” Dean finishes for him.

The corners of Cas’s mouth turn down into a slight grimace. “Last night, a client treated us to tapas. I woke up starving.”

Dean smiles. “You know I’m always down for that burger.”

“Excellent,” Cas says with relish as he pushes open the door.

They walk onto the street, and it’s almost offensively quiet after the noise of the bar. It’s a balmy Spring evening, the sun still relatively high in the sky.

“You don’t seem disappointed anymore,” Cas says out of nowhere as they reach the end of the block.

So Cas caught on to that, back when they first ran into each other. Dean shrugs. “I just got stood up by the guy I’d specially set up to meet me at 4:01. Wouldn’t you be?”

Cas clears his throat, asking hoarsely, “You wanted it to be me?”

Dean throws him a look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Cas just shrugs. The light changes, and they step off the curb.

“Were you… disappointed?” Dean asks hesitantly.

Cas lets out a surprised laugh. “Of course not. I didn’t even think - well,” he falters, casting a sidelong look at Dean, “I’m not disappointed. Believe me.”

The automatic doors to Nine Spheres open, hitting them with a burst of perfectly conditioned air. Dean hasn’t stepped foot in the hotel since Cas paid for his stay, but it hasn’t changed one bit. The same tiered giant chandelier glitters overhead. Giant pillars bracket the concierge desk to the left and the enormous staircase to the right that leads up to the second floor rooms. The tiled floor, so polished Dean can practically see his reflection, stretches the length of the lobby.

Dean sticks out like a flannel-wearing sore thumb. “Cas,” he hisses, “hold on. I don’t think I’m dressed right for this place.”

Cas sucks in a breath. “No,” he says as Dean’s heart sinks, “I suppose not.” He jerks his head towards the elevator bay. “Room service?”

Dean blinks.

“I’ve called for the burgers on several occasions at other locations,” Cas assures him. “It tastes as good.”

Was Cas actually trying to convince him to go up to his room? What a dumbass. Dean laughs.

Cas colors, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Forget it,” he mutters. “We don’t-”

“You know, if you invite me up to your room,” Dean cuts him off, “you’re going to have a bitch of a time getting me to leave, right?”

Cas stares at him.

“Dude,” Dean says, “I’ve never stayed anywhere this nice in my life. Between the food, the water pressure, and the robe that felt like I was fucking a cloud, I had enough of a hard time leaving last time.”

“I’m glad,” Cas says stiltedly. “We strive to provide the optimal experience to all our guests.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “’M saying, add you to the mix, and they’re gonna have to drag me out of here, kicking and screaming.”

“And if I don’t want you to leave?” Cas asks in an undertone as he pushes the up button for the elevator.

“Then I guess we don’t have a problem,” Dean says, winking.

Cas’s responding grin falls as the doors close behind them and the elevator starts moving. He shakes his head. “It’s a shame there are cameras in here.”

Dean leans in closer, whispering in his ear, “Doesn’t bother me much. Whaddya say to giving the peeping toms a show, then?”

Cas bites his lip, and this close, Dean can see how his eyes have blown black with want. “I - I can’t.”

It’s like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice water. Dean steps back, shame filling him. That’s fine. He can regroup. Hopefully Cas will be more receptive behind closed doors. It’s not the first time this has happened, anyway.

“Dean, I have to work with these people every day,” Cas hisses, wringing his hands. “The last time an executive got… busy with a coworker in the pool, the mocking didn’t end for weeks. Not to mention her rebuke from upper management.” He throws Dean a desperate look. “I would like for you to be fully clothed by the time you meet my coworkers for the first time.”

Cas is already planning for Dean to meet his people?

The elevator dings, and Cas steps out. “Are you coming?” he asks hesitantly.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says quickly. As he follows Cas down the maze of rooms, he has to ask, “You were planning on introducing me to your coworkers?”

Cas’s cheeks pink. “Unless you were opposed to it,” he mutters as he stops in front of Room 1518. He sighs, making no move to insert his keycard. Instead, he lifts his head to meet Dean’s gaze squarely. “I’ve put in a transfer request to Chicago.”

“What?”

“It was before I knew you were my soulmate,” Cas says quickly. “I’ve never felt like I fit in in California, and my parents live in Pontiac. The Chicago office is decently large, and, well, I knew you were here,” he says, his voice going quiet near the end. He straightens. “So there were many reasons.”

“You’re staying?” Dean says, his mouth dry.

Cas bobs a nervous nod. “I hope that’s okay.”

Dean grins. “Sure is.”

Cas touches the inside of his wrist, his expression turning almost shy. “Of course, when I first pictured introductions, it was strictly as a friend. I don’t really know anyone else in this city well, and I’ve told you about my difficulty in social situations, so it would’ve been more for moral support than anything else. But after this evening -”

Dean interrupts his rambling. “Are there cameras in the hallway?”

“What- oh,” Cas says, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips before back up again. “Yes?” He points. “They’re all the way down there, though, so they can’t -”

Dean cuts him off with a heated kiss.

#destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #soulmates au #businessman Castiel #mechanic Dean #profoundnet #rae writes fic #i post something new every Sunday #this one kind of got away from me #but hopefully in a good way #deancas #deancas fanfic

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katzkinder · 3 years

Text

Wrath Group and Jeanne D'arc

Wrath Fam Posting never ends, because I like them and thank you all so much for encouraging that 💕

idk what it is about this group that keeps drawing me back to them. Maybe it's because Norse mythology is one of my special interests, maybe it's because the story of Wrath arc moved me so much, maybe I'm just gay as hell. Who knows, who cares, they make me happy, and I'm glad I get to share that joy with all of you~

--Alright enough sappiness, down to business

As the title of the post says, this is going to focus on the ways Strike uses references to Jeanne D'arc as a character motif for the Wrath group, which I consider to consist of Freya, Gil, Ray, and of course, Iduna.

First up, Freya. This one's super easy. We all know Jeanne was executed under false charges of heresy, but the thing that did her in, the one accusation the English levied at her that somehow stuck was... Cross dressing. Now, Freya as we see her is a very feminine woman, but her battle outfit when paired with Iduna is undoubtedly a military uniform, and canon shows us that it was quite common for Freya to be wandering around battlefields, picking up subclass as she pleased.

The "men's clothing" Jeanne wore was armor, and her short haircut she had throughout her military career was for the sake of convenience, not because she was attempting to dress as a man. (@redlanternchild also makes note of this in her post here! Very reassuring that I am not, in fact, an insane person ww. I love her analysis in general so please give her blog a look through if you haven't already; It's super duper worth it!)

It's also a common misconception that Jeanne was executed as a witch, one that might be due to how she was depicted in Shakespeare's Henry IV part 1, where, spurred on by common English propaganda at the time of writing, she was portrayed as a witch and a promiscuous woman (This makes Freya's one-sided adoration for her baby brother rather... bitter, in a funny way). And, well... Gear went and rescued Freya from a witch trial, so. There ya go.

Second comes Freya's subclass, Gilberto Weasel and Rayscent Crazyrabbit, aka, Gil and Ray!

Using Italian pronunciation of Gil's name would make it sound closer to "Jill," while Ray, is, well, Ray! Put em together, and you've got something remarkably close to Jeanne's compatriot and the commander of the French army, Gilles de Rais!

Now for birthdays. Birthdays for characters in Servamp are NEVER chosen Just Because, and Freya's subclass are no exception.

Gil's birthday is February 12th, which also falls on the day the Battle of Herrings started, allll the way back in 1429. It's a really minor battle within the Hundred Years War, but, it was the date Jeanne met with Robert de Baudricourt and ended up, ahem, convinced to help her. It's actually really funny; she basically cornered the dude and then proceeded to publicly lecture everyone present until he relented. This is significant because Jeanne's encounter with Baudricourt is considered by historians to be her first major step towards her career and fame, much like Iduna's first meeting with Gil was what pushed her to really think about what she was creating, who for, and why.

Now, time for Ray! Ray's birthday is May 15th, which just so happens to coincide with the day Gilles de Rais kidnapped a cleric during a dispute at the Church of Saint-Étienne-de-Mer-Morte. This ultimately prompted an investigation by the Bishop of Nantes, during which evidence of Rais's crimes as the infamous "Bluebeard" was uncovered. ... Basically he murdered and did Other Things to a bunch of kids but let's just move past that, ayup.

Finally, we have the Star (lol) of our show... Iduna! She's the most obvious of the bunch with her connections, to the point that I almost feel silly bringing it up? But I also realize that people genuinely might not realize some of these because it just never came up in their lives before.

First, Jeanne's nickname was the Maid of Orléans, and she wasn’t just a flag bearer who rallied the troops. She also carried a sword into battle, a fact that for whatever reason is often left out when discussing her accomplishments. Iduna's combo with Freya is literally named "Maid of Orléans (Draw your sword)", and its effect is to give Freya the weapon she is lacking to become a perfect bastion of offense and defense. I'd have to be a total idiot to miss that given that even FGO, which, as I mentioned in a different post about Freya, plays it VERY fast and loose with history, gets this right, and how popular Jeanne D’arc is as a person to take inspiration from for fictional characters.

(side note, but i wonder if the design of Freya's demon was inspired somewhat by Fate Extra CCC's Karna? Strike's definitely a Fate fan and has even drawn Ildio in Gilgamesh cosplay, so it's entirely possible considering she loves to sprinkle in homages to series she likes within character design)

Second, and I've mentioned it in a previous post, Iduna's birthday, May 30th, is also the day Jeanne died at the hands of the English.

Jeanne was also only 17 the day she first rode into battle, just like Iduna! She's also the patron saint of prisoners (of which C3 was keeping the subclass as, and they were freed and safely guided out of the collapse thanks to Iduna intervening with the battle between Shamrock and Shuuhei) and soldiers, especially female soldiers like Freya. However, she's much more well known for being the patron saint of France ww

Finally, there’s one of the charges leveled at Jeanne during her trial. While she was captured by the Burgundians, there was an incident where she jumped from a 21 meter(!!) tall tower, and she safely landed on the ground despite the height (but was quickly recaptured). Now the reason for this seems to have conflicting sources, and I… Do not speak French |D

Some say she was merely attempting to escape, others insist that she did so to save a nearby village. Point being, she leapt, survived, was captured, and maybe did so for not her own sake, but for others.

Anybody remember the end of chapter 106 and the entirety of chapter 107? Iduna, using a new invention, leaps from the window of the hospital (much to Gil and Ray’s distress lol) in order to more immediately tend to the injured Nicco, and her kindness is met with being taken hostage. I just thought this one was a funny little coincidence and probably not intentional, so take it as you like~

#servamp #kat's katerwauling #long post #servamp freya #gilberto weasel #rayscent crazyrabbit #iduna nobel

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narutogwriting · 3 years

Note

dude your writing is superior, especially the Kiba one 🥵 would you consider making a part two to that one? I’m kinda hooked on the story now ngl

Thank you so much 🥺 Your guys’ asks make me so happy! Imma keep it real, I’m not stoked with how this one turned out, but I hope you like it!

Eat Your Words Pt 2

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Reader

CW: NSFW; creampie

Length: 2.6k+

Summary: Kiba is your jerk of an ex boyfriend. After making the mistake of sleeping with him again, you have some harsh words for him that leave him reeling.

Inspired by me wanting Kiba to rail me into oblivion

Please don’t tag as NSFW!

“Hey, what’re you so upset for!?” Kiba called as you shoved him off of you and got out of his bed. God, why had you done that!? Kiba sits up, propped up on his elbows as he watches you march around the room, grabbing your clothes and pulling them back on. You shook your head, waiting until you were fully clothed before turning on him.

“Are you kidding me?!” You snapped. “This is the problem, Kiba! This has always been your problem.” Shaking your head, you picked up Kiba’s own shirt to throw at him. “You think you can solve everything with sex! You think that everything’s okay, and I’m gonna stay just because I let you fuck me?”

Kiba rolled his eyes at you, tossing his shirt back on the floor. He lounged back in bed, his hands folded behind his head. Kiba obviously had no shame as he laid back completely naked, not even trying to cover up.

“I can’t help it if I have a magic dick.” He snickered. “Not my fault that the sex is that good.” Kiba shot you a wolfish grin, being playful and deflecting as he always did. Did he even know how to have a serious conversation?

Gritting your teeth, you stalked to the side of his bed, surprising him with your vehemency. He could feel the anger radiating off of you. “Let me tell you something, Kiba.” You spat, standing over him. “Yeah, you might be good at fucking,” you said the word pointedly, wanting to make sure he understood the distinction. “But sex? Intimacy? Making a girl feel really good?” You gave a humorless laugh. “You have no idea about that. Even if you go home with a girl every night for the rest of your life, you’re always gonna be alone.”

Those words stayed with Kiba, ringing in his head constantly as the days passed. What had you meant by all of that? He tried to pretend it didn’t bother him, but something about it had shaken him to his core.

After you’d left, taking your shit with you just like you’d originally wanted, he’d gone straight to Ino’s house. He was pissed and annoyed and confused and needed some help letting out steam.

So he’d pounded her into the mattress doggy style, making her scream and moan just the way he liked. You’d told him he didn’t know how to make a girl feel good, but he thought that Ino would beg to differ. He spent an hour making her cum around his cock before he finally found his own release. When they collapsed into bed, Kiba found his arm slinking around Ino, something he usually didn’t do.

“That was good, right?” He asked her.

“Oh yeah,” Ino sighed, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. “Great as always,” she told him as she made a move to get out of bed, but he stopped her with a squeeze to her hips.

“Where ya going? I thought we could like, lay here, ya know? Cuddle and talk and shit.”

Turning to look at him, Ino gave Kiba an incredulous look, actually laughed at him, making him go red. “What the hell are you talking about?” She asked, pushing his hand off of her so she could get up. “That's… Not what this is.”

Feeling his cheeks burning, Kiba crossed his arms. “What do you mean ‘that’s not what this is’?” He muttered.

As Ino pulled on her top, she glanced back at him. “Kiba, you’re fun for like… a good time,” She explained gently. “But when it comes to that emotional shit, well, I have other guys I go to that for. That’s boyfriend shit, and you don’t exactly fit that bill…”

Kiba walked through the village, his head whirling. Did girls really not see him as boyfriend material? Just as a quick fuck? Kiba had never been super into relationships, really had only ever focused on hooking up before, but he’d never considered that maybe girls didn’t want to date him either. He was a catch! Wasn’t he?

He began to think more and more about what you’d meant, that he could fuck, but he didn’t know how to have sex? Well, what was the difference?

The brain has a way of picking up patterns. Once presented with new information, it will begin to recognize that information everywhere. That’s what was happening to Kiba, and it was happening specifically with you.

What had he been hoping for after you slept together? That you would look at him with heart eyes again and fall back head over heels? Break up with gyoza boy and come back to him?

Well, yeah. That’s exactly what he’d been hoping.

Because, okay, yeah, he was aware that he wasn’t exactly the perfect boyfriend. He knew he wasn’t always as attentive to your needs as you were to his, was realizing that sometimes when you just wanted a kiss and a hug, he was dragging you back to the bedroom before he even recognized something might be wrong.

He was selfish and self-centered and arrogant and okay, now he got it. He was the worst boyfriend. And maybe you wouldn’t understand this, wouldn’t believe him and he couldn’t even blame you for it, but Kiba did love you. He loved you in the way he knew how.

And he could list it all out for you. He loved your eyes, how bright they were, and especially the way they lit up when you looked at him, like he was the center of your whole world. He loved the smile you got when you would see him for the first time all day. He loved the way you brushed your hair behind your ear when you were nervous and the giggle you gave when you were embarrassed.

Kiba loved how you’d pull him into the grass, tell him the stories you saw in the clouds. Some days you would stay there until the sky was dark and splattered with stars, and then you would tell him the stories they told too.

Kiba did love you, he really did. You were the first, the only girl he’d ever wanted to be in a relationship with. But he didn’t realize just how bad he was at showing it.

So when you were yelling at him for the millionth time because he forgot another date night he’d sworn he’d plan, he didn’t get how upset you were, thought you were overreacting. You guys spent plenty of time together; why did this specific instance matter?

He was taken off guard, absolutely blown away, when you’d broken up with him. He hadn’t even bothered trying to argue with it because there was no way you were serious, right? He’d laughed, told you “sure thing,” and gone back home waiting for you to show up at his door.

He waited for a week before he’d realized you weren’t coming.

And he couldn’t understand it, thought you were overreacting, and he was so pissed. Kiba wasn’t emotionally mature enough to realize what he was feeling wasn’t anger; it was actually heartbreak. So he’d gone out, gotten drunk, and went home with the first person that was willing.

Except they didn’t go home. Kiba took Ino right there in the alley outside the bar. Enough privacy that not everyone would see, but public enough that at least someone would see, and surely word would get back to you.

Thinking about it now, he could see why that was so stupid. He’d only wanted to make you jealous, hadn’t even considered that it may leave your heart shattered. But he got it now. He understood very well how horrible you must’ve felt, because he felt it now, watching you with gyoza boy.

So maybe it was a little creepy--okay, a lot creepy--but he followed you and your boyfriend around when he saw the two of you out and about. You’d gone right from Kiba’s house to his, he guessed. Fine, let’s see what a good boyfriend he is then.

And Kiba could see it, all the things that this new guy did that he never had. You always had this bag you carried around with you no matter where you were, almost instinctively. It’d always annoyed Kiba for really no reason at all. But gyoza boy was carrying that bag for you, had it slung over his own shoulder as he held your hand.

Kiba had never really held your hand much. It’s not like he didn’t like it; it just didn’t cross his mind usually, and he didn’t really think it was that big of a deal. Gyoza boy not only held your hand, but he spun you around as you walked, not carrying how silly it looked. Kiba always cared.

He saw the way you laughed, how happy you appeared to be. When you talked, your boyfriend leaned into you, eyes locked on yours. It was clear that you had his full, undivided attention.

And really, those things were so small, but it was all you’d ever wanted. The little things, like having fun in public and those touches of affection and for someone, for Kiba, to just make you feel important. Nothing felt worse than being taken for granted by the person you loved the most.

Kiba realized just how neglectful he’d been.

~ “Kiba? Again?” Ino asked with a sly smile, leaning against her doorway. Kiba shook his head, rolling his eyes. “No, Ino. It’s not that. I need your help…”

Weeks had gone by since your mistaken hookup with Kiba. You’d beaten yourself up for that constantly. You’d felt like you had the upper hand when you broke up with him, but you gave the power right back to him when you let him in your pants knowing you had a boyfriend at home.

You’d broken up with “gyoza boy” just a a week after the hookup. The guilt from cheating on him with Kiba had been eating you alive, and besides that, there just wasn’t that spark. He was such a nice, sweet guy, but you didn’t feel anything when you were with him. Not like you did with Kiba. With him, you felt everything.

And speaking of Kiba, you were about to walk right past him. You definitely weren’t ready for that interaction. You steeled yourself, preparing for some snide comment or jab at you. You weren’t ready when Kiba stopped, smiling at you and asking you how you were.

“I’m fine…” You blinked, surprised.

“That’s good. It’s been a long time…” Kiba was being polite, making small talk, and it threw you. You nodded awkwardly. “But, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” He continued. “There’s a few more things you left at my house. If you wanted to come get them…”

You gritted your teeth, rolling your eyes. Of course. You should’ve known. “I’m busy right now,” you practically snapped. “I’ll stop by later. But my clothes will be staying on.”

When you did finally make your way to Kiba’s later that evening, it was with extreme reluctance. You were certain that all Kiba wanted was another excuse to try and get you into bed. You were going to do your absolute best to not engage any of his antics or let him get to you and end up like last time.

You knocked on the door, crossing your arms, preparing for a shirtless, or even just a boxer clad Kiba to open the door. Instead, he opened it wearing exactly what you’d seen him wearing earlier in the day. He was fully clothed, didn’t have that arrogant smirk on his face, and was opening the door to let you in rather than staring at you like a piece of meat. You didn’t think your guard had ever been up so high. Eyeing Kiba suspiciously, you stepped by him, entering the house and going to the table where a small box was. Shifting through it, they were all little things you definitely hadn’t been missing. A couple hair ties, a few bobbypins, even a sock without it’s match.

You couldn’t help but scowl. This wasn’t anything you needed. Kiba must’ve been luring you here to sleep with you again just like you thought.

You turned on him, shoving the box across the table. “Seriously, Kiba?” You glowered. “What the fuck would I want any of this for? You could’ve just tossed it. I’m leaving.” As you moved to push past him, Kiba saying your name made you stop. It was unwillingly, like your body was on autopilot, responding to his name instinctively. You couldn’t help but groan to yourself as you turned to glare at him. “What?” You snapped.

Kiba turned then, going to the counter and reaching behind it before pulling out a painting. He held it sheepishly in front of him for you to see.

It was two small figures, laying in the grass looking up at the blue sky with white clouds painted against the backdrop. In all honesty, it looked like something a child would have made, but you were pretty sure by the red on Kiba’s cheeks that he’d done it. “What is it?” You asked him.

“A story.” Kiba replied, moving closer. “It’s in the clouds, ya see? A story about a guy who was a complete idiot and who lost the girl that he really loved, and how it took losing her to see how dumb he really was.” He pointed to the clouds which looked like blobs instead of cohesive shapes, but you knew what he meant. You always used to tell him stories, random things you made up when looking at the sky. It was one of the only times you ever thought Kiba was really listening to you.

Setting the picture down, Kiba stepped closer to you. “It’s a present… I just wanted to give it to you to say I’m sorry… I’ve been thinking a lot since the last time we saw each other, and I realized that you were right. I was a really bad guy to you, and you deserved better.”

Despite how skeptical you may have been under usual circumstances, you could see right away that Kiba was being serious. There was no facade or part he was playing. He was being open and honest with you, and you were taken aback by his gesture. He’d actually painted you a picture of one of your favorite things to do with him. It was one of the sweetest gestures you’d ever received.

“You made this for me?” You whispered.

“You don’t gotta believe me…” Kiba continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you deserved an apology. You were always so good to me, and I really loved you for that.. But I also realized I took you for granted. It’s my biggest regret. I never wanted to lose you, but I know that you deserve to have a guy that spoils you and loves you in ways you can feel it.”

Your heart was fluttering as you felt heat rising to your cheeks. Where was all this coming from? All you’d ever wanted from Kiba was for him to say something like this, to put in some effort and show he cared.

“What… what made you realize all of this?”

Kiba paused for a second, blushing before finally answering. “After you put me in my place last time, Ino told me I wasn’t boyfriend material… It was all pretty humbling, not gonna lie.” He gave a small snicker. “I really got my ass handed to me. Then later that day, I saw you with gyoza boy and how happy you were… It really put everything into perspective. I’m glad you’re happy with him, though. I hope he treats you better than I did… But it made me want to change. The past few weeks, Ino has basically been pointing out every single flaw I have for me to fix.” He shrugged. “It’s been rough. I knew I had one or two, but turns out I have a lot.” You’d never seen Kiba so earnest and vulnerable before. You felt yourself getting hopeful, even though you weren’t sure for what. “Actually…” You admitted, meeting his gaze. “I broke up with gyoza boy a few weeks ago.”

That took Kiba off guard. His eyes widened considerably as he spluttered all over his words. “O-oh, you did? T-that’s… That’s too bad. I’m sorry to hear that.”

The laugh came out of you before you could stop it. “No you’re not,” You told him, giving him a knowing smile. He returned it with a big grin. “I’m not…” He admitted. “But I do just want you to be happy.”

There was a pause that lingered between the two of you. The hope began to bubble in your stomach, rising up and squeezing your heart. You wanted to be happy, too, but you wanted to be happy with Kiba. You loved him too, as much as you tried to hide it. And now, you thought that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to be the person you always knew he could be.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you grabbed his shirt, pulling him down into a kiss. He made a noise of surprise before finally relaxing into it, kissing you back softly. His hand went to the small of your back, pulling you closer.

Then suddenly, he was pulling back, staring down at you with a conflicted expression. “Wait, are you sure?” He asked you. “I don’t want to rush anything, ya know, or mess things up…”

A small smile played on your lips. He really was changing. “I want to be with you, Kiba. That is… If you still want to be with me?”

Kiba grinned. “So you’re giving me a second chance?” In response, you kissed him again, this time more earnestly than the last. You melted into him easily, everything about him familiar. One of Kiba’s hands was cupping your cheek as his tongue slid across your bottom lip.

Without breaking the kiss, you began to back him up, wanting to go to his room. “Wait,” Kiba was mumbling against your lips, causing you to just hum in response. “We don’t have to do anything,” He tried again.

The two of you were in his room by now. You finally pulled away, breathing heavy. “I want to,” You told him, staring up at him with wide, lusting eyes.

Kiba paused, wanting to be sure you were sure. Then he smiled, pulling you into him again. You made a move to pull off your shirt, but he stopped you. “I got this, baby.” He murmured against your neck, laying you down on his bed.

Kiba continued to lay soft, open mouth kisses as he hovered over you, his hands running down your sides before moving back up, slipping up under your shirt. You shivered feeling the cold of his hands as he began to nip and suck at your skin.

He broke the kiss to pull at the hem of your shirt, peeling it slowly from your body. With it tossed aside, he reattached his lips to your neck, kissing agonizingly slow down to your collarbone. “Kiba,” You whined, your hands going to fumble with the buttons on his pants.

“Not uh, baby girl…” Kiba smirked, taking your hands and pinning them above your head with one of his. “‘Mma take care of you.” The way he breathed the words against your skin made you tremble.

With his free hand, he reached under you to unhook your bra. He released his hold on your hands to pull the fabric from your body before pinning you down again. Kiba kissed lower until he got to your breasts.

His tongue traced over your nipple lightly, making your back arch. You could feel his prideful smile against your skin. His free hand began to massage your breast as he took the entire nipple in his mouth, sucking as he let his tongue flick over the nipple again and again before switching to the other one.

Your mouth was hanging open as you shook with anticipation, your pussy already wet and throbbing. Kiba released your breast before settling between your legs, grinding against your heat as he kissed you fiercely.

His tongue moved against yours as you felt him hard and dragging against you. There wasn’t enough friction, too much fabric between the two of you. You needed it gone. “Kiba, please,” You whined against his mouth. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down your body, moving down your stomach to your hips. You tried to arch into his touch, but he had your hips pinned.

Unbuttoning your pants, he drug them slowly down your legs, pulling them off and discarding them to the side. His lips skipped past your aching arousal to your inner thighs. He was more rough this time, nipping and sucking harsh bruises into the sensitive skin.

Finally, after an agonizing time of him teasing and kissing anywhere but your covered cunt, he sipped his fingers under the band of your panties, pulling them down to expose your sex.

“You want me, darling?” Kiba askes, kissing at your thighs one last time. You nodded furiously.

“Please!” You begged. Kiba didn’t waste time after that, pressing two fingers into your dripping cunt, causing you to cry out. He began to pump them steadily as you writhed and moaned underneath him.

His tongue lapped around his fingers before licking your clit with harsh, quick motions. His fingers curled inside of you in time with his licks, leaving you breathless and shaking.

“Kiba, Kiba, Kiba….” You chanted his name like a prayers, begging and pleading for him.

“Nuh uh. Not until you cum around my fingers…” Kiba taunted, increasing his motions. He lapped at your clint incessantly, his fingers pressing deeper and deeper. The pleasure in you continued to build until you were clenching and cumming around him, screaming his name.

“You’re so greedy, sweetheart. Your cunts sucking my fingers back inside you.” He laughed softly as he continued his actions, taking his time with you. It was all overwhelming in the best way.

You were almost limp by the time he was pressing inside of you, sliding slow and easy into your dripping pussy. Fully sheathed, he leaned over you, kissing you gently as he rocked himself into you. It was different than his normal, rough pace that he usually set, but it had your head reeling all the same.

When he had one of your legs over his shoulder, his cock touching parts of you even deeper than your fingers could touch, he pressed kisses into your calves.

“Fuck, you feel so good baby. I love the way you clench around me, pulling me inside you. You don’t want to let my cock go, do you sweetheart? You like being fucked like this, don’t you? Slowly, having to wait for me to give it to you even when you want me to pound you into the bed.”

It was agonizing, the pace he set. It had you coming undone in ways you never had before. Rather than the constant, almost painful overstimulating orgasms you were used to with Kiba, there was only this one, building up steadily and so intense it had you seeing stars. Your vision went white as the coil in your stomach finally unraveled, and you were cuming, cuming so hard you almost arched off Kiba’s cock with a sob.

“There’s my girl,” Kiba mumbled into your neck as your felt his hips start to smack into yours more erratically until he was spilling inside of you, calling your name as his hips continued to jolt into yours as he chased his high. “Fuck,” he breathed, kissing gently down your shoulder.

You were still speechless, the world spinning around you. All you could do was smile up at him, fucked out of your mind.

“I love you,” Kiba chuckled, pressing a kiss into your lips. “Now, what were you saying about me not knowing how to make a girl feel really good?”

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stina-is-a-punk-rocker · 3 years

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jacqueline wilson’s ‘love lessons’

tw: abuse, pedophilia, characters making Bad Decisions, long unnecessary spiel about my childhood like I’m running a recipe blog

It’s funny how loads of the authors who helped shaped me into the vaguely humanoid being I am today have names beginning with the letter ‘J’; Judy Blume, Jeff Kinney, John Green, J.K. Rowling (yikes, I know) … and Jacqueline Wilson.

I’ve never owned a Jacqueline Wilson book of my own; they were always borrowed from a friend, or from a friend of a friend, or from a friend of a cousin- you get the gist. Her books, for me, come with an entire aesthetic: something reminiscent of yard sales, and reading under the covers with a flashlight, and being lulled into a false sense of security by the deceptively innocent Nick Sharratt illustration on the cover until someone’s best friend gets mowed over.

So I knew what I was getting into when I picked up Love Lessons. I knew this was going to be Fucked Up; and boy, was I right.

(Here’s the part where I warn you about spoilers.)

From an abusive dad to creepy child predator teachers to slut-shaming and victim blaming, this book has it all.

The main character is Prudence ‘Prue’ King, who is homeschooled at the beginning of the book, along with her sister, Grace. Their parents remain rooted in the early twentieth century, and are very strict about- well, everything. No TV, no computers, not a single mobile phone in the house; their clothing worse than the orphans’ from Annie; and their father remains distinctly distrustful of modern institutions like the school and the hospital; and so on, and so forth.

Daddy King suffers a stroke, and has to be taken to the hospital. Meanwhile, Mrs. King (a floppy, spineless woman who lives in fear and awe of her, frankly horrid, husband) sends the girls to school, behind the then invalid Mr. King’s back. Cue Prue and Grace being the freakshows of the school, with their strange clothing and overbearing mother.

Grace manages to make friends, but Prue remains alone. The kids are dicks, the teachers are dicks… well, all of them but one. And that’s the art teacher, Mr. Raxberry (I just couldn’t get over that name; it seems like something you’d name a mythical plant from Pixie Hollow or some shit. I’m assuming it isn’t an actual name, since the spelling & grammar check on my computer doesn’t seem to recognize it), or Rax, as he’s called.

Oh, yeah; Prudence’s favorite subject in school is art, and she’s a whiz at it. This is relevant, because reasons.

And here’s where stuff gets murky. Prue develops a crush on Rax- which is perfectly normal. I’m definitely no stranger to it; I’ve had crushes on my teachers, my mum admitted she used to think one of her professors was cute. And yeah, as I grew older, I grew out of those crushes and now have a markedly more refined taste in men (unless he’s 5’ 7’’, born in ’97 and named Bang Chan, I don’t want him); and my mum married my dad, so I’m assuming she did, too. Admittedly, now that my dad teaches at a university, it’s icky to think that there might be students who have crushes on him- but I digress.

My point is, loads of us have liked our teachers. But I doubt the majority of us have acted on it.

And Prue actively showing her interest in Rax isn’t the worst part. That’s a spot reserved for Rax reciprocating her feelings.

Guess Ezra Fitz and Ms. Grundy (yes, I watched Riverdale; please don’t cancel me) have a new addition to the Creep Club.

The age of consent in the UK is 16, if I’m not mistaken. Prue is 14. She’s just barely become a teenager, and she’s being preyed upon.

Because that is what Rax is. He’s a predator; he preys upon this vulnerable girl who’s never been in a relationship before- hell, she’s never even had friends- her father’s abusive, so she obviously doesn’t have the best experience when it comes to men- she’s unpopular at school, with the students and staff alike- and he lures her in. I don’t care how bloody nice he is to Sarah, or what a good dad he is (well, he’s really not, seeing as he cheated on the mother of his children WITH A BLOODY FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD CHILD)- the guy’s a fucking pedophile.

I was staunchly stuck at a yellow light with him; like, sure, maybe Prue thinks he’s flirting with her- maybe she’s looking at this all wrong, she doesn’t know how relationships work- see, he drew a picture of Sarah, too, in his secret notebook- Prue’s just reading into this too much- up until he says he loves her.

Dude. Humbert fucking Humbert. She’s fourteen, for Christ’s sake, and you’re married. You have two children. She’s a child. She’s probably closer to your son’s age than she is to yours.

(This is the part where I bury my head in my pillow. And scream. Extensively, and with passion.)

The book does make some genuinely good commentary on slut-shaming and victim blaming and abusive parenting. And on one hand, I can see why so many people find issue with the romanticization of the when I kissed the teacher trope- but I can defend it, too.

The book is in Prue’s perspective. She thinks she’s in love with Rax, so obviously, she’s not going to throw in some valuable moral at the end- because she’s too young and inexperienced to think otherwise. And sadly, there are loads of instances of child abuse that go unreported because the victims just don’t know better.

What I have issue with is how the school dealt with it, ultimately. Prudence, a child, has to deal with the consequences of the actions of a literal child predator. Sure, Rax ‘clears his name’ by cooking up some bullshit story about how it was only a crush and he didn’t encourage it, but you’d think other adults would know better and, oh, I dunno- dig deeper into it, instead of blaming it on a child?

“She says you told Mr. Raxberry you loved him and he held you in his arms and fondled you.”

Which Prudence denies, because, again, she doesn’t know better. She then goes on to say that they did nothing wrong. To which the adult speaking to her, in this case, the principal, Miss Wilmott, goes on to say:

“I’m not sure that’s entirely true… I feel that there are some aspects of your friendship that could be considered inappropriate.”

FYI, lady, he kissed her- multiple times (not that kissing her once makes him any more redeemable), and told her he loved her, and admitted to fantasizing about running away with her and leaving his family behind. Fun fact: do you know Prudence is underage?

You’d think that Miss Wilmott would maybe give this whole fiasco a favorable ending, but it turns out she listens to school gossip;

“I haven’t been at all happy with your attitude. You don’t seem to understand how to behave in school. I’ve heard tales of unsuitable underwear and then a silly romance with one of the boys in your class. I feel that in the space of a few short weeks you’ve made rather a bad name for yourself… I don’t know whether you intend to be deliberately insolent but you certainly come across as an unpleasantly opinionated and arrogant girl… I can’t help feeling that you’ll be much better off elsewhere. I shall try hard to engineer a suitable transfer to another school.”

And then she comes out with this gem:

“If you won’t leave, then I shall have to ensure that Mr. Raxberry finds another position.”

“No, you can’t do that! He’s a brilliant teacher.”

“You should have thought of that before you started acting in this ridiculous and precocious manner. If I were another kind of headteacher, I would have Mr. Raxberry instantly suspended. There could even be a court case. He would not only lose his job, he could find himself in very serious trouble. Did you ever stop to think about that?”

Girlboss, gaslight and gatekeep. The fucking trifecta.

Also, by ‘another kind of headteacher’, does she mean the kind of headteacher WHO DOESN’T LET CHILD PREDATORS ROAM FREELY WITHIN THEIR HALLS?

This bitch is out here blaming a child, a literal child, for the crimes of an adult man.

The only time Prue seems aware of the fact that Mr. Raxberry is actually a very shit person is her immediate thoughts that follow after she tells Miss Wilmott she’ll take the fall;

I so wanted to save darling Rax- and yet why hadn’t he wanted to save me? Had he told Miss Wilmott it was all my fault, that I’d got a ridiculous crush on him, that I’d made ludicrous advances to him? … I wanted to tell this horrible, patronizing woman how hungrily he’d kissed me, but I couldn’t do it. I loved him. I had to help him.

NO, SWEETHEART; YOU MOST DEFINITELY DO NOT.

And maybe I’m going overboard with all these excerpts, but here’s what Rax has to tell Prue, after school, following her expulsion:

“I let her think the worst of you, the best of me, just to save my skin. I said it was ridiculous talking about a love affair between us. I said you simply had a crush on me, and that I was just trying to be kind… You were brave enough to stand up to me and force me to acknowledge the truth… I love you… That’s why I had to take a risk and see you this one last time. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care… Every night when I close my eyes, I’ll think of us together in this car and how badly I wanted to drive off with you. I’ll imagine us walking hand in hand at the water’s edge… I wish I wasn’t such a coward.”

(I burrow into the pillow further. I’m trying to suffocate myself.)

And that’s where I think Wilson went wrong. Sure, Prudence getting expelled for something that was completely out of her hands is unfair, and horrible, but it’s real. That shit can happen.

What’s bad is showing Rax in a positive light after all that. If only Wilson had written Rax to not be the Romeo he thinks he is. Make him ignore Prudence, throw her under the bus in front of her face, instead of this star-crossed lovers bullshit it’s made out to be. Show your younger audience that Rax is not a good man. I’ve got a little over two weeks left for my twentieth; I can see why this is unacceptable. But I was a little younger than Prue when I watched Pretty Little Liars, and my only gripe with Aria dating Ezra was that Noel Kahn was so much cuter.

It shows when you scroll down the Goodreads reviews; you’ve got adults giving it one or two stars, and teenagers giving it four or five, with their biggest complaints being, “but Toby was cuter!!!”

Other non-pedophilia related complaints regarding the book include: Prudence being unlikable- which I didn’t really notice, considering she reacted to some people way better than I would’ve, even at 19 (which probably says a lot more about me than it does about Prue, but oh well). Still, Prudence obviously isn’t the most prudent of people- and again, she’s fourteen. Look me in eye and tell me you weren’t an arsehole at that age (unless you’re fourteen now, in which case, I assure you that you’ll look back on yourself someday and go ‘wtf was I thinking’). Bringing up Toby’s dyslexia in an argument was low, though.

There were people who thought the Kings’ almost-Amish lifestyle was exaggerated and unrealistic, but I assure you, it may very well be real. There are 8 billion people on the world- it’s fair to assume that several of them are complete weirdos.

Grace was a sweet character, and I adored her with every fiber of my being. As were her friends Iggy and Figgy. Honestly, I would’ve loved a book about Iggy, Figgy and Piggy’s (mis)adventures too.

#love lessons #jacqueline wilson #teacher #teacher crush #teacher x student #anti ezria #ezria #pretty little liars #aria montgomery #ezra fitz #when i kissed the teacher #book review #books

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

dance with me

request from nonnie! “Hello! Im terribly in love with your writing! I was wondering if maybe, Charlie takes Bill, the twins an (either oc or reader insert) to a muggle party and they’re all super confused but love it and Fred is completely smitten by the OC when she danced and maybe did something weird/special of your choosing. I hope it isnt much, lots of love for u and Mischief Managed! ♥️”

pairing: fred x muggle!reader

word count: 2.2k

A/N: my dudes i don’t even know what the fuck this is but i loved this request so much, didn’t mean to make it sad, sry, also you can interpret this how you will.. personally i think they’re both too vulnerable rn to ~get it on~ but i like to think that maybe fred would open his heart again after this and she’d mend his heartbreak..... brb making myself big sad !!!!!! but listen if you wanna imagine him pinning her against the wall and having the time of his life then go for it, man i'm just...... big into angst;;;;;;; pls reblog & leave feedback & things of the like, thank you loves

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @dreamer821 @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @parker-potters @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 | message me to be added!

The foggy, wet streets of the city were unappealing compared to the very comforting, open landscape next to the Burrow. The very last thing that Fred and George had wanted to do was follow their two eldest brothers in the frigid, rainy weather to some silly Muggle party in central London.

Especially Fred.

He didn’t want to be forced out of the one place that made him somewhat happy, especially when he was still nursing the heartbreak that had been causing him so much unpleasantness.

But they’d obliged, because Charlie had nearly pounced on the two of them about it, and they’d much rather go to this than be forced to sit inside the Burrow with pompous Percy -- although, since the war, he had admittedly gotten better at not being a self-righteous git.

The twins had a ton on their plate; not to mention, Fred wasn’t in the mood for any of it. They were dragged out of their business shop by Bill, who was adamant about the fact that they’d both needed a night out, and when they’d tried to persist, telling their eldest brother many times that they had too much to do before the newest shipment of magical inventions came in, Bill had nearly hexed the pair of them, causing them both to shut up almost instantaneously.

But now, as bright, fluorescent lights hit the middle of the room, highlighting you, your smooth and effortless dance moves, and the very lazy grin on your face as you sang along to the booming music in between sips of your drink, Fred wasn’t so huffy about being here anymore.

His heartbreak didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

At least right now, it didn’t.

Admittedly, Bill was right. They really did need a night out. They’d been so bloody busy working that they hadn’t even been to the pub in a few weeks’ time. Ever since the war, business had seemed to escalate, which was really saying something, considering it was incredibly busy even before all of this had gone down. The two of them hardly ever had a moment to breathe. Which, they supposed, was good for Fred. Kept him occupied, kept his mind at bay. But they reckoned they probably needed to hire some more help. Ron had reluctantly agreed to lend a hand. It was Hermione’s idea. A brilliant one, at that.

George thrust a beer frustratingly into his twin’s hands. “We’ve got so much to do, mate.”

“Yeah,” Fred replied breathlessly, truly not listening to a word George was saying.

Fred Weasley had always had it easy when it came to the ladies. They flocked to him, really. He didn’t like to admit it so as not to come off like an entitled prat, but it was true. It was probably due to the fact that he was always making everyone laugh -- something that came equally as easy to him. Perhaps it was his bright red hair that the girls ogled over. Maybe it was his wicked sense of adventure, and the fact that he was always landing himself in questionable situations more often than not. But that was school. He could easily impress those girls at school. He hadn’t had too in a while, though. He’d been happily tied up with the same person for years — that is, until he wasn’t. Until she’d picked someone else.

This was different, though. This was a Muggle party, in the middle of central London, in someone’s sweaty, sticky flat with a bunch of people he didn’t know. Fred couldn’t do magic here. He couldn’t impress someone with his inventions or with his stories about adventure without giving away the fact that he was a from a magical background. He couldn’t use his usual tricks in front of all of these Muggles or he’d be in a ton of hot water.

He also couldn’t let his very intense vulnerability and his rusty flirting get in the way.

But he wouldn’t be Fred Weasley if he didn’t try, right?

It was always easy for Fred to be able to flirt absentmindedly with women. But with his heart in a fragile state, he wasn’t so sure it would be easy tonight.

Bill, picking up on his younger brother’s locked knees and fingers gripped tight around his beer, stopped in front of them. “You alright, Fred?”

“Yeah,” Fred said again, clearing his throat and swigging a bit of his drink. He then thrust the nearly full beer into Charlie’s hands, who furrowed his brows in a confused look. Fred continued, “More than okay. Hey, you guys have fun -- I’ll catch up with you in a bit, alright?”

He left his brothers standing at the other end of the room as he pushed through tons of people. When he’d finally made it to the middle, you were gone. He casually swerved around, peering all around the room to try and meet the gaze with the eyes he felt like he’s known for years already. He then spotted you toward the corner, pouring yourself another drink. His feet began moving before he could register exactly what he was doing; so quickly, in fact, that he hadn’t even heard the obnoxious exchange of words and laughter from behind him from his brothers.

“Merlin, can we go anywhere without Fred picking someone up?”

“Give him a break, mate -- he hasn’t seen anyone since everything unraveled with the last one. It’s been almost two years. Reckon this is good for him — for me, too.”

“Wish it was that easy for me to pick someone up, bloody hell.”

With his heart pounding unnaturally against his ribcage, Fred slid next to you and too began to pour himself a drink, glad to have gotten rid of that beer that Charlie was now undoubtedly guzzling. He opened his mouth to speak, but much to his surprise, you spoke first.

“Ahh -- a whiskey man, are you?”

He was taken aback at the sultry sound of your voice; maybe it was because the music was pounding in his ears, or the fact that you were this foreign person he desperately found himself wanting to know, and very quickly. He looked down at his drink, and then up at you. You were already sipping yours. “That a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily -- though I haven’t decided yet.”

The slight eyebrow raise you gave him made his insides twist. It was too early in the night for nerves. He swallowed them down as he took a swig of his very strong drink. “Haven’t decided, hm?”

You turned to him and then around to face the rest of the party. You inched closer and crossed your arms over your chest, and nodded. “There are three different types of men here tonight, you see. Those, over there,” you pointed with your pinky finger to a bunch of very frat-like men sipping lazily on their beers or glasses of wine, “they’ve come looking for something casual. Not so casual as far as one nighters go, but a fling. Something of the like. Those over on that end,” Fred followed your finger over to a very messy looking group of men who were dancing far too close with some women in the middle of the dance floor -- they looked like they all needed to get rooms. Separately. Merlin. “You know the type of night they’re looking for.”

Fred couldn’t help but snort a bit as he sipped casually.

“And then there’s you. Sipping your whiskey. Cute as ever.”

You turned back toward him and he raised an eyebrow. He was now feeling a bit self-conscious — he was both thrilled and equally embarrassed at being called “cute” by a woman as stunning as you, way out of his league and probably having quite a laugh yourself. He didn’t even know your name. What would you say next? You’d already deemed him the “third type of man” in the room, but the fact that he was a standalone, and not lumped in with another group, made him feel both overwhelmingly relieved, and also slightly terrified. But he tried to play it cool.

“What about me?”

You brought your hand to your hip and wet your lips, pondering this. A small smirk spread itself across your face, the fluorescent light flashing across your eyes. “I dunno yet,”

He liked that. He liked that you didn’t know anything about him. He liked that he didn’t have to be the bloke who made jokes to lighten the mood, the guy who loved messing with people, or the boy who got his heart broken by a girl who’d never really cared for him at all. He didn’t have to be any of those people. He could just be Fred.

“Haven’t decided, I reckon? Like the whiskey?”

You smiled; it was bad enough that Fred was losing his mind solely at the perfume you were wearing, and the fact that this conversation was going absolutely nothing like what he’d planned. Your eyes met his and your voice was soft when you leant in closer, “That’s what makes it so bloody dangerous.”

He didn’t know what the bloody hell you meant by that but he didn’t seem to mind, especially when you grabbed him by the shirt and led him to the dance floor again, slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you as some slow song he’d never heard blared through the speakers in the corner.

“And to think — I was just going to come over here and see if I’d even be lucky enough to have a chat,”

You laughed at this, shutting your eyes whilst doing so, and Fred noticed something sparkly painted on your skin toward the edges of your eyes. “What can I say? You’ve intrigued me.”

Perhaps he could do this without any magic. Bloody difficult to not talk all about it, though.

Perhaps his vulnerability would subside, and he’d be able to talk and flirt and dance without thinking back on his own overwhelming heartache that had rendered him nearly useless the last few months.

But after a while, he stopped worrying. The music was so loud, your laughter so infectious, that he’d forgotten all about all those stupid jokes he’d wanted to make about his shop, about Hogwarts, about the magic he’d learned growing up. It wasn’t until you’d asked him to be in the moment with you that he’d truly remembered them.

“Just,” you’d started, tugging gently on the collar of his shirt and biting your bottom lip as another song played loudly, “just be here with me, okay?”

Fred wondered, as glassiness seemed to fill your eyes through a grin at him, if you, too, were in need of this night out.

Maybe you were nursing some kind of heartbreak, too.

Maybe you were also trying to find some type of normal.

It was in your tone — in the way your voice trembled slightly when you’d said be here with me. He didn’t think you were looking for something like a fling, like those guys you’d pointed at before. And he definitely knew that you weren’t looking for one night and one night only, like those sloppy people he’d kept trying to avoid on the dance floor. Maybe, like you’d said, you just needed him to be here. In the moment. Just the two of you, shoes heavy against the hardwood floor, eyes sparkling underneath the lights.

He realized, when he peered down at you and felt some type of warmth for the first time since his own heart was crushed in its vulnerability, that he just needed you to be here with him, too.

So when you leant forward slowly, trying to read his expression, to see if it was okay to do what you wanted to do, he leant in too, pressing his lips gently to yours in a spark of electricity for the first time in Merlin only knows how long.

And what he tasted on your lips sent him spiraling.

When you pulled apart, he raised an eyebrow and smirked at you. “What?” You asked nervously, biting down on the bottom lip, desperately trying to hide the smirk that was growing on your face.

“A whiskey girl, eh?”

You shrugged casually, as if it meant nothing. But you both knew it meant everything. It was just strange, he thought — your first interaction just hours ago, the conversation you’d held, and how you were here, now, entangled together. You wiggled your eyebrows at him — and he was surprised that he found it both innocent and incredibly alluring. “Told you it’s dangerous.”

You sipped the very last of your drink before tossing your cup into the waste bin. Fred reckoned he could stay here all night, forgetting about all of the things that kept him up at night, the things that had been making him so bloody prone to unpleasantness for such a long time. He wanted to laugh again. He wanted to smile again. He wanted to love again.

When you cocked your head to the side and smiled softly at him, beginning to mouth the words to the music, he reckoned he might just be able too.

Then you tugged on both of his hands, placed them delicately across your waist as you locked your arms around his neck again, you said over the booming of the next stupid song you’d undoubtedly sing every word too,

“Just dance with me, Freddie.”

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #hp imagine #hp imagines #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines

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mickmarstookmyheart · 4 years

Text

More Espresso, Less Despresso

Part: 2/?

Pairing: Mick Mars X Reader

Summary: Mick tells you the truth about his job and you meet the band in their natural habitat.

Many days have passed, many cups of coffee were consumed, and fewer books were read as you have always had a company at the café. But you didn't mind. Mick was your best friend there, well, the only one, though you didn't even search for others.

"So, Mick, what are your plans for the next week?" You asked walking next to him in the park. Your scarf half covering your face which you were grateful for since you could feel the cold in your bones.

"Well..." This was the moment. This was the perfect timing to tell you that he was a musician. A guitarist who traveled from stadium to the other and never settled down for more than a few days. A rockstar whom chicks wanted but not in the way Mick would love to. "There is something I need to tell you, (Y/N)." He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Then, I will listen." You said glancing at him.

"Come, let's sit down." He gestured toward the bench nearby and you both sat down on the rather chilly bench. "So, I don't know how to say it."

"Honestly. What you truly think. Just say it." You placed your hand on his shoulder.

"I'm happy. I'm happy that I finally find someone with who I can talk, share my thoughts, and have a decent conversation. I would go to the café and spend time together for eternity but unfortunately, it's impossible." He sighed. "I'm a rockstar, (Y/N), and the band goes on the next stop tomorrow. I'm so sorry."

You shook your head and chuckled. "So, this was the reason you were so nervous about it? Come on, Mick. I've always known that you are an artist. You talk about music like I talk about books; with so much passion." You turned to him to be able to look in his eyes.

"What? Are you telling me that you knew from the beginning?" He asked arching a brow making you giggle.

"Yes, Sherlock. For fucks sake, have you looked in the mirror? Long black hair, leather jacket and pants, the way your fingers drum to the beat, and an unbelievable wide knowledge of music." You were hoping deep down that he wasn't a big star. You hid your disappointment and tried to cheer him as he was feeling blue and you just couldn't bear it. Seeing him like this just broke your heart, thus you behaved as if everything was cool, but it wasn't.

"Alright, Watson. I'm impressed." He snickered. He couldn't believe you paid so much attention to him, he was sure he didn't deserve it. After all the wrong decisions he made, all the wrong things he did, it seemed a miracle to have a good friend like you. "Then, you are not mad, right?"

"Of course not, you silly. Though I would've appreciated it to tell me, I thought it was your business. You would've told me at the right time." You were playing with the end of your scarf. You felt your heart ached, tears desperately wanted to come but you didn't let them. You needed to keep your happiness for him because if he would see you like a wreck, he wouldn't be able to leave you there without feeling guilty.

"I wanted to, truly, but I was afraid...I was scared that you would run away." He glanced up and tried to scan every detail of your face so later when he needed he would be able to recall it.

"Why would I do that? Believe it or not, I also like rock music. And the fact that I read books doesn't mean that I'm pure as a unicorn or something. I read books during the day and I'm a serial killer at the night. This is a good glamour you know." You said with the most serious face could.

"What?" Mick's eyes widened. He looked he believed the whole thing. It looked like you could lie pretty well.

"Why is it so hard to believe?" You huffed crossing your arms to make your story more believable.

"I don't know, maybe that the shine in your eyes or your calm temper." You couldn't hold it back anymore and you burst into laughter. Tears running down your cheek but this time from happiness. He was the reason for both your sadness and happiness. "Why are you laughing now? Oh, you liar..." He snapped playfully but then laughed along with you. After you could properly breathe again and calmed down you rose from the bench and kept walking.

"And how long will the tour be?" You asked, already feeling a knot in your stomach. You didn't want to lose him, you just got him.

"Months. Too much if you ask me. I don't know how I will bear my bandmates' stupidity. I will lose my sense if I can't talk with you." He said making you blush.

"I'm sure there are others who are a bit smarter than your friends." You shrugged. You hated the idea that he finds someone special. Someone with the same mind, taste, and thinking. You wanted to be the only one, even if it felt selfish.

"No, I don't think so." He snickered shaking his head. "You are my soulmate, (Y/N) and no one can replace you." He bumped into you playfully. You gasped internally. He spoke like he was reading your mind and it was creepy. Maybe, he was truly your soulmate. "By the way, the guys keep nagging me where I am all day, and since now you know about them...would you like to meet them? Also, I will understand if you don't want to." He rubbed the back of his head thinking it wasn't really a good idea after all.

"Hell yes. It would be a pleasure." You smiled and tugged a lock of hair behind your ear.

∆

"You can still run away. There is still a chance to have a better life without meeting those bastards. You wouldn't miss a thing."

"Mick, calm down. I totally want this." You were standing in front of the studio's entrance.

"Then don't blame me later." He murmured and opened the door for you. You stepped in and as you turned in the corner you just had to follow the voices. If you had to name the voices you would've called it chaos. Screaming, glass breaking. You took a deep breath and opened the door to see the chaos. You froze and were shocked from the sight. One of them was bumping his head on the drums, the other was doing drugs and the third man was throwing knives on the wall. Mick stood behind you and grabbed your wrist. "Let's go, (Y/N). They are not in their best shape."

"But we walked so damn much. Too much for nothing." You sighed.

"Alright then. Go grab something to eat or drink and I will scold them down until you come back, okay?"

"Deal." You nodded and headed towards the bistro next to the studio while Mick felt the urge to beat the shit out of his bandmates. While reading the menu you were wondering how he is able to get through the tours while keeping his sanity. Then pictures flooded your mind. Memories you desperately wanted to forget but it seemed they became core memories. You had experiences with both drugs and alcohol and you felt their effect on your own skin, though you weren't the one who consumed them. You thought if you move from that place, maybe the memories will fade.

"Ma'am, what can I get you?" A waitress asked standing behind the counter.

"Five from that one." You pointed at the table above her head and bit after she handed you the bag with your order. When you got back the building where you left the band, you grabbed the door handle it didn't turn. "Are you fucking kidding me?" You cursed still trying to open the door before kicking in it angrily.

"Hey, what that poor door did to you?" A man inquired searching in his pockets.

"Sorry. It just doesn't open and I really would like to go in." You said tilting your head toward the entrance.

"Then, try with this one." He winked and handed you the key which you took gladly and opened the door with it. "Thanks, man!"

"It's nothing, kid. By the way, who are you exactly and why do you want to go in?" He asked while he held the door for you letting you go first. You thanked with a nod and made your way to the studio.

"I'm (Y/N). Umm, Mick brought me here..." You raised a brow.

"Wait. The (Y/N)?" His eyes were wide and he was pointing at you.

"Yeah, I guess." You murmured now having a clue.

"Well then nice to finally meet you. I thought we would never meet you." He gave you the biggest smile you ever saw.

"Mick told you about me?" You were in shock. You didn't assume he told about you. Not that you minded. It felt good that you were important to him.

"He couldn't shut his mouth for a second! By the way, I'm Doc. Their manager." He held his hand to shake it.

"It's a pleasure." You smiled and opened the door cautiously. You didn't know what to expect after what you had seen earlier, but it wasn't this. All of them were reading a magazine?! And were sitting with crossed legs on the sofa.

"What the..." Doc peeked over your shoulder as you didn't move an inch. His mouth dropped and was speechless, which you could say about yourself, too. "Are you okay, guys?"

"Yeah, Doc, thanks for asking." The blondie said not glancing up from the magazine he was reading.

"Mick...what exactly did you do them?" You inquired in confusion, considering, the room was hell a few minutes earlier.

"Nothing." He simply said closing the magazine, placing it on the coffee table, and walked over to you. He stood beside you and cleared his throat. "Guys, this is (Y/N). (Y/N) this is Vince, Tommy, and Nikki." They smiled and nodded when they heard their names. "And I see you have already met with Doc."

"Nice to meet you guys." You waved your hand. "Umm, I brought some food..for you if you are interested..." You muttered swinging the bag in front of you. Tommy literally jumped up from the couch and took the bag from your hand opening and smelling it.

"It smells rad, dude." He yelled picking one of the boxes.

"I already love you, (Y/N)." Vince rose from the couch stealing the bag from the drummer.

After everyone chose their boxes, you all find a place to sit and were consuming the food in silence. You were sitting on the arm of the sofa balancing yourself. You leaned to Mick whispering in his ear.

"Seriously, what did you do?" You asked gesturing toward the guys.

"I have my own ways." He smirked making you curious as hell.∆

Taglist: @leatherandheels @littlemisscare-all @safari-karrot @crazyrockrlady 💕💕

(feel free to message me or comment if you wanted to be tagged 💕)

#motley crue #glam rock #mick mars #rocknroll #80s music #80srock #vince neil #nikki sixx #tommy lee #mick mars x reader #mick mars imagine #motley crue imagine #motley crue x reader

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flying-elliska · 3 years

Note

Literally the only reason I don’t outright despise the darkling in the show is solely cause of Ben Barnes and I’m fully aware of that 😂😂 I HATED him in the books. I didn’t like Mal either but like I honestly could not understand for the life of me why people liked the darkling lol. I feel like I was severely in the minority. Idk I sort of was like.. ok I get he’s maybe supposed to be charming but I see so much through his bullshit it’s not even funny. I felt like I was being told that he was alluring rather than feeling like he was lol. And it annoyed me to no end. Now Ben Barnes as the darkling... he was basically saying the same shit but I was like you know I fully realize you’re full of shit but it’s okie pls keep going 😂😂 he also was slightly different but idk. Maybe this was one of those things where I needed to see it as a visual instead of just in a book

Ahah yeah very relatable. And an interesting thing to think about. When I read the books, which was quite a while ago, I despised his character, and I didn't like Mal either ; I was pretty much there for the fun world and the side characters. (I can't wait to see who they cast as Nikolai, my beloved.) But there is such power in a good performance, and I'm also talking about Jessie Mei Li here because I found Alina so dour and not fun as a protagonist but in the show she's ☀️☀️☀️

I mean there are definitely loathsome characters on TV that are just so fun to watch because they're so stylish and unhinged and the actor is just really going for it and it's fun putting your morals aside as a thought experiment to imagine being at this level of not giving a fuck about anything, it's liberating. One of my all time faves is Glenn Close as Cruella de Vil in the Dalmatian movies I was obsessed with as a kid, and this is a woman who wants to skin puppies, she has zero redeeming qualities and it's amazing to watch because she is so much larger than life and cool and insane. (Don't get me started on all the queer coding for Disney villains too lol.)

So like, I think on TV it's easier to appreciate terrible characters for that performance aspect. And there is something reassuring about making evil into an over the top spectacle, because it makes it less scary, paradoxically ; in real life most evil is very ordinary and respectable-looking and diffuse and insidious and hard to pinpoint, if it isn't made completely invisible by systemic dynamics. Most monsters are some kind of exorcism.

When it comes to books it's trickier to write a villain who is also supposed to be ambiguously likeable, I think, because you don't have the advantage of such a performance, you have to synthesize it all with words, which are more intellectual. Whereas TV has visuals, sounds, it's more easily visceral, which I think is closer to the level on which these types of characters work, the more primal emotions.

And when it gets to the Darkling I get the appeal in theory. First of all, his political agenda is somewhat understandable (and even more so in the show) even if his methods are fucked up, especially considering the heroes seem to be a lot more concerned with reestablishing the status quo for a big part of the story. If you have a villain concerned with fighting injustice and your hero isn't fighting injustice just as hard, then you're kind of setting up people to root for the villain, no matter what gratuitous atrocities get tacked on, because the structure of the story feels unjustified. This is a story pattern people have been calling out for its weird conservative implications for a while now (looking at you Marvel yikes).

Also, the Darkling is very much an example of a trope that is veeeery popular in fiction aimed at women, that of the dangerous, more powerful, often immortal or monstrous supernatural dude associated with death/winter/darkness/the devil that tries to tempt the heroine away from her expected life path and can be either a love interest or an enemy or both. This is like, most recent vampire stories, or Beauty and the Beast, or Hades/Persephone retellings, Hannibal the series for a queer version, possibly also Killing Eve - hell two stories I've read recently were that trope (Winternights trilogy and The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue). And people often prefer it as a romance ; even though it obviously has problematic implications I don't think you can reduce it to 'silly women don't know what's good for them!!!' like I've seen it implied. I'm picky with this trope, I usually prefer deconstructions, but I see the appeal.

The main problem with the Darkling in the books is that I find him annoying, and like that other post says, in fiction a character can be as evil as they want as long as they're not annoying lmao. He's just cold and aggressive and he comes over as this petulant emo douchebag and Alina is supposed to be drawn to that because ???? Ben Barnes sells the charm and the danger so much better, and so when the betrayal comes it feels a lot more meaningful and interesting.

Like don't get me wrong, the Darkling in the books does things that are pretty irredeemable and looks like they're going in that direction in the show too, but I do like that they kept him more human, and I get why people wished the character had gone in a more ambiguous direction. And sometimes you just want a good corruption arc for your hero, that's too rare in my opinion. Also I just think it should be possible to like Problematic Characters without having to excuse everything they do or feel like you've committed a mortal sin against the Good God of Moral Fiction. I've seen the discourse online ping-pong between 'uwu he never did anything wrong!!!!' and 'omg abuse apologism!!!' and I'm like. Degree zero of literacy. Bye.

#shadow and bone #ben barnes #the darkling #darklina #grishaverse #aleksander morovoza #shadow and bone netflix

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thatsamericano · 4 years

Text

The Unawesome Assumption

Characters/Pairing: Awesome Trio (Denmark, Prussia, and America), with America having an obvious crush on Romano and established Gerita. If you squint, there might be mild implications of one-sided Pruita and Prumano. Also mentions of Spamano, but that’s pretty much all in America’s paranoid brain. (Note that America does rant about the idea of Spamano in an anti-ish way, but it’s based on jealousy. I have nothing against Spamano shippers.)

Summary: The Awesome Trio is enjoying a day out at a carnival when America gets a phone call from “Little Italy” and acts strangely during the call. Believing that “Little Italy” is his brother’s boyfriend, Prussia warns America that Italy is off limits and gets a response he wasn’t expecting.

Rating: Teen for some crude sexual humor, cursing, and mentions of violence

Word Count: 1971

Notes: Credit to @bitchapalooza for the idea of what the Awesome Trio would do when hanging out together, including some specific details that got mentioned in this story. This will be posted on my AO3 account soon, if you’d rather read or comment there.

America took a bite of the snack he had just purchased from the carnival booth and made a satisfied noise. “Damn, these things are good. I swear, deep frying an Oreo just makes it better.”

Denmark grinned at him. “Try dipping it in that huge Slurpie you’re holding.”

America dipped his deep-fried Oreo into the Slurpie, took a bite, then closed his eyes and moaned in a way that was, quite frankly, obscene. “Holy shit! It’s like a flavor orgasm in my mouth!”

Prussia laughed at him. “You like having orgasms in your mouth, Al?”

America’s face turned red as Denmark joined in on the snickering too. “Shut up, dude! You know what I meant!”

Prussia reached over and ruffled America’s hair fondly. “Of course we do, kiddo.” America wasn’t really a kid anymore, but he was younger than Prussia and Denmark, and not just in physical age. And as far as Prussia was aware, America had never been in a relationship or done anything that would involve orgasms in his mouth. Maybe he just wasn’t into people that way, Prussia mused.

America rolled his eyes. “Whatever. What do you guys want to do next?”

Denmark glanced around. “It looks like there’s a petting zoo over there,” he said, pointing with his index finger. “That could be fun.”

“I’m up for it,” Prussia agreed. They’d already done most of the rides anyway, and seriously, who would pass up the opportunity to pet a cute farm animal? Not Prussia.

America nodded too, and they all started heading towards the petting zoo, which was a fair distance away from the deep-fried Oreo booth. Right after they finished up their deep-fried Oreos, an old-fashioned song began to play. Old-fashioned as in more than 50 years old, but still played often enough that most people could recognize it from the first line.

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore

Prussia looked around in confusion, wondering what could have been playing a Dean Martin song over carnival music and kids running around and screaming with delight. “Does this place have an Italy-themed booth?” Prussia wondered aloud.

“I think it’s coming from America,” Denmark replied. When Prussia glanced at him, America was scrambling to retrieve his cell phone from his jeans pocket and trying to shift a giant inflatable alien he had won at the bottle shooting booth into his other arm at the same time. In the process, his cell phone bounced out of his pocket and fell to the ground, but the screen didn’t crack. Denmark swooped in to pick up the phone before America could bend down to get it.

His eyebrows lifted in amusement as he read the contact name on the screen. “Little Italy is calling you?”

America scowled, face flushing just as red as it had earlier when Prussia had been teasing him about his accidental sexual innuendo. Prussia felt a strange, foreboding sense that something just wasn’t right. “Give me back my phone, Denmark.”

“Sure.” Denmark handed the phone over. “Wouldn’t want to keep little Italy waiting, huh?”

America shot Denmark an irritated glare as he answered the call. But as soon as Italy started speaking to him, America smiled fondly and took a few steps away so he could speak to Italy without Denmark and Prussia overhearing everything he said.

“Well, that was weird,” Denmark said.

Prussia’s eyes narrowed as he watched America talking to Italy. “Ja, it was.” America had a lot of customized ringtones for his cell phone, and it made sense that he would have one for Italy. But Prussia had never heard America’s phone ringing with a love song before. And America’s demeanor was strange too. Prussia had spent a lot of time around America, and he wasn’t normally this quiet. He smiled often, but it was a big, bright grin, not the small, almost shy smile on his face now. Did America have a crush on Italy? If he did, Prussia couldn’t really blame him. Both of the Italian brothers were cute, and Italy was especially sweet and adorable. But Italy was Germany’s boyfriend. Everyone knew that. America knew that.

America giggled in response to something Italy said. “Aww, Vene, you worry too much! I doubt I’m gonna get sick from the carnival food. But if I did, I wouldn’t mind having you nurse me back to health. I know you’d take great care of me.”

“Dude. Isn’t Italy dating your little brother?” Denmark whispered in a worried tone of voice.

“He is,” Prussia answered, nearly growling out the words. “And if America keeps talking to him like that, I’m gonna have to beat him so badly he won’t be able to walk for the next two weeks.” America was clearly picturing Italy “taking care of him” in more than just in a medical way. He was flirting with Ludwig’s boyfriend, and that was an incredibly stupid thing to do right in front of Prussia. Gilbert would protect his baby brother with his life, and he would not allow anyone to hurt him by attempting to lure Feliciano away. Not even one of his closest friends.

America talked to Italy for a couple more minutes, but Prussia didn’t overhear anything else he said, other than the goodbye that was way too affectionate for a friend. America hung up the phone and walked back towards Denmark and Prussia with a content expression on his face, and Prussia immediately began to question him.

“What the fuck were you just doing?”

America’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? I answered a phone call?”

“We saw you trying to flirt with Italy over the phone,” Denmark explained. “Your attempt was so cheesy I doubt it was effective, but it was also really obvious. Iceland’s puffin could have picked up on what you were doing.”

“What? Dude, that’s crazy! I don’t like Vene that way.” America wheezed with phony laughter, and he shifted his gaze around like he always did when he was attempting to lie. America was a notoriously horrible liar, and that’s why Denmark and Prussia usually got the beers for Alfred if they wanted to hang out in the US and drink together. America might have an excellent fake ID that said he was 21, but no bartender would believe Alfred when he showed them his ID with such a guilty expression. And Prussia didn’t believe him now.

“Listen, I don’t care if you’ve got some silly little crush on Italy,” Prussia told him. “That’s something you can’t help. But you can’t talk to him like that ever again. Italy is off limits.” Gilbert thought he was being incredibly reasonable, given the circumstances. The fact that America wasn’t lying on the ground bleeding was a goddamn miracle.

But apparently, America didn’t see it that way. He scoffed and put his hands on his hips. “Off limits? Why? Because you’ve got a thing for him? You can’t claim dibs on a person, Gil. That’s not how it works.”

“What?! No, this isn’t about me!” Why the hell would America even think that?

“Oh, I see. This is about Spain.” America’s lip curled into a disgusted sneer, but before Prussia could interrupt to correct America’s bizarre assumption, he continued, launching into a tirade against Prussia and Spain. “I guess he’s your real friend, and I’m not! It doesn’t matter how I feel, because Spain has a permanent claim on Vene just because he’s known him for longer. Well, you know something, I think you’re full of shit! And I think it’s up to Vene who he wants to be with! Maybe he wouldn’t want to be with the guy who fucking raised him from the time he was a toddler! But guess even considering that makes me the crazy one!”

Prussia was aware of some nearby humans turning to stare at them in surprise, and many of them seemed almost as shocked as the lady who guessed people’s ages had been when Denmark told her his real age. But he was pretty startled too, because America was much more bitter than he had been expecting. Prussia was also startled by the realization that his righteous anger had all been based on a ridiculous misunderstanding.

“Really, Spain too?” Denmark murmured. “I don’t get it. Is Italy emitting some kind of magic love pheromones or something?”

Prussia shook his head without taking his eyes off America. “He wasn’t talking about Italy. He was talking about Italy’s brother. Romano.”

America’s face cleared in understanding. “Oh… oh! You thought I was talking about North Italy! No wonder you got so mad at me!”

Prussia nodded and chuckled a little, at both himself and the situation. “You didn’t exactly help when you started calling him ‘Vinny.’ I thought that was short for Veneziano.”

“No, dude, that’s based on his human name, Savino. I started calling him that back when we lived together.” America sounded pretty damn nostalgic, and Prussia felt a little silly for assuming Alfred had been talking to Feliciano. He’d sounded nostalgic about the 1920s before, but Prussia had assumed it was just a friendship thing.

“Did you come up with the Little Italy thing around then too?” Denmark asked.

“Yeah.” America smiled, and his eyes went all soft, like he was staring at the world’s most adorable kitten. “It’s not just ‘cause he’s little compared to me, though he is. It’s ‘cause most of the people who lived in those neighborhoods were from his part of Italy. It would feel pretty weird to call North Italy that.”

Prussia rolled his eyes as all three of them started walking towards the petting zoo again. “Right, and we’re supposed to believe you don’t have a crush on him?”

“I don’t!” America insisted. “I swear.”

Denmark snorted. “Okay, then why’d you pick that song to be his ringtone?”

“Well, it mentions Naples. It’s a nice song, and it reminds me of Romano. Honestly, you guys should’ve known I was talking to him based on the ringtone alone.”

Prussia exchanged a smirk with Denmark. “He knows where Naples is, but I bet he couldn’t locate either of us on a map.”

“That’s not true! I know for a fact that Prussia is East Germany. Denmark is directly to the left of Finland and right above Norway.”

Denmark burst into a fit of raucous laughter, and Prussia did too. America sounded so confident about Denmark’s location even though he was completely off, and it was hilarious.

America pouted as they all got in line behind a group of children. “You guys are mean.”

Denmark shoved America’s shoulder playfully. “Cheer up, Al. We’re just teasing you a little.”

“Yeah. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about with Spain,” Prussia added. “I mean, sure, he might go overprotective on you if you try to date Romano, but I don’t think he’s into him like that. So, you’re in the clear there.”

For someone who had denied having a crush on Romano twice in the past few minutes, America looked incredibly relieved that Spain was not going to be romantic competition for him. But then, the guy running the little petting zoo announced that the next person in line would get a chance to milk a goat, and Denmark pushed past multiple children to the front of the line, so Prussia naturally turned his attention to that. The man running the zoo had a flabbergasted expression on his face as Denmark ran up to him and the goat, and both America and Prussia found it hysterical. This carnival was turning out to be one of the most awesome things Prussia had done in a while, and he was glad he got to hang out with his friends today and make entertaining memories like this one.

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nobody-knose--archive · 4 years

Text

i’ve been aching to commentate spirit phone’s commentary for ages. glad i finally got around to it, this was an ejoyable experience. liveblog below the cut

-i'm like half certain i've heard this commentary before. maybe not the whole way through & it was probably actual years ago

-nice hearing stuff like this. in-depth personal view of the album-making process. makes it seem like more of a real thing i could do myself someday

-neil cicierega real person momence

-i could probably go real in depth about neil cicierega/tally hall parallels specifically concerning like. the arc of their musical careers. but i won't, here

-wild how i legitimately don't care much about micheal jackson

-didnt we get a bunch of spirit phone stems from the needlejuice release/his patreon? we could probably hear the funny track he speaks of here in that

-i love hearing musical artists, especially neil cicierega, talking about the meanings of their songs. like, not only has this song been claimed to hell & back by the tumblr gays, but with later ones i just can't see where he gets these ideas from. also, claiming there's any one meaning or plot to a song just seems silly to me

-shoutout to neil reusing a midi from like, 1998, that he made at 12 years old, whose entire melody was reused for the main verses of everybody loves raymond. loved finding that out on my own 2 years ago. now it's common trivia in this fandom. not bad times

-it'd be neat if neil did individual trans tracks here like he did with view monstel, those things are half of why i consider it my favorite album

-it's a lot easier to ignore the creator's intended meaning behind a song when he can't even remember it. thanks neil

-seesaw effect

-and there's my joke all but 1 of my followers wont get. moving on

-what kinds of movie theater lobbies has neil been to where there are arcade machines. i mean im not one to talk but that does sound rather strange

-why do songs' titles even need to be taken from the lyrics. ive never seen that as any sort of requisite. it's like titling any form of prose you can just give it whatever name ya like

-"this part sounds pretty cool right"

-is neil's vocal range only mildly better than mine? with training i could change that

-oh i haven't processed any of the last 25 seconds hold on

-god. a shit ton of vocal modification in this song. it's like neil returned to his roots but with quality this time

-i, as an ace/aro, have never related more to an allohet guy in my life. what is the point of eyes!

-professional humming/whistling takes skill. it's different from the recreational or casual stuff. i'd know

-there's a name for the way sound (especially music) gets distorted when moving past you and i can't remember it but it's probably what neil's referring to here in the way he recorded the intro

(- update: it's the doppler effect no need to tell me cas already did)

-as someone who hasnt seen the rugrats or take me there by blackstreet i'll just say it sounded like a bouncy music box melody. nice to hear a song that messes with the typical scales though. lydian & diatonic.

-that's a rather specific thing to be glad about, but given what he talked about in his last full audio commentary about the jew harp i suppose i'm not surprised

-i know that tmbg song now. listened to it & saw the music video too. yep they're different alright

-where the hell does neil get all these instrumence from anyway

-huh. hadnt heard this part of the commentary before making my oc concerning this song but i like to hear neil's approval concerning part of my interpretation

-i love how ive heard a billion different tellings of this mellified man story from lem dem fans talking about this song and neil's is by far the wildest

-good god that does only make it worse neil

-i love making liveblogs of lemon demon albums. with the fullerenes or tally hall i cant name a specific dude to take out my woes on generally but with lemon demon i can just say neil all the time. i like being on a casual first name basis with this dude ive never interacted with once ever

-is sweet bod the one other than cabinet man with a demo in the bonus tracks? i forget

-holy shit the boston molasses disaster someone call up soapy if it doesnt already know, it'd love this

-two thousand nine. god i miss the fiddle solo. the ver with it is truly the best one

-he pronounces it jeff? i've always read it as gef with a hard g. that's what i get for knowing words that are never spoken aloud

-that's a fun meta interpretation of this ghost story that's over a century old. i like that

-i've noticed neil generally does the same synths across a whole album. it's especially more clear in the earlier ones, and does mean i occasionally mix up songs between clown circus & live from the haunted candle shop

-ah! ancient aliens! my least favorite track on this album. i cant even claim to have the least interest in a popular one i've just generally not liked this one much from the beginning. so im curious to see what neil's got to say, i think ive been in ~new commentary zone for a while now

-anyway. newest update on the loolin not realizing a song's funky time signature front: i think this one's in 6/4. or at least switches a lot between time signatures. granted i dont listen to it very often for the reasons stated above

-see the way neil describes it. eldritch horror upon being visited by the unknown at a time when humanity'd hadn't even yet had a chance to imagine such a thing occurring. should be right up my alley. but the sound itself & many of the lyrics simply turn me away.

-must i specify i don't dislike it? spirit phone is neil's best album it not being my favorite doesn't mean i think it's bad yadda yadda nobody should be surprised by this it's not like anyone in these fandoms reads my liveblogs <3

-granted i think this is. the first bit of spirit phone content i've made on my blog ever. so who knows things can change <3

-the transitions in spirit phone are much less view-monster transition tracks & more extended outros. view-monster's were a bit more intro than outro sure but they also seemed directed upon making a 2-way rather than 1-way bridge between tracks. or something like that

-.............soft fuzzy man is an incredible nickname for a cat. i'd steal that if i werent afraid of introducing my relatives to lemon demon

-jirls

-an underlying metaphor is good enough. the literal side of the lyrics are fun. nothing but agreement here neil my good man

-the transition into as your father i expressly forbid it from soft fuzzy man is the best one in this album

-buddy you ask if a musical idea has been used before odds are the answer is yes in this day & age the question is has it been used in the way you're using it. like sure this soul jazz record from the 60s that was sold out in kansas stores for a week used this bassline that youve found yourself copying. but seeing as youre using it in some angsty garage rock ballad type tune does anybody actually care

-doesn't everybody like to say things in an unhinged manner from time to time

-imagine having a guitar dad, i say, with my dad being a folk accordion/fiddle dad, which is infinitely worse in every way

-i think he was in an actual folk band at some point. idk the 90s were weird

-iron my life?

-m-more intimate? there are a lot of ways i'd describe this song but intimate isn't one of them. granted as your father is negatively intimate so from there i guess you've got nowhere to go but up

-...still glad to see his interpretation kinda supports my oc at least

-the way he says characters in songs shouldn't worry about death really strongly makes me think this is some sort of. thematic continuation of stuck from dinosaurchestra, even if there's no real death in there. interesting. would also mean that the dad from these past 2 songs is named carlos betty (no last name)

-i literally never assumed this was a flute solo. piccolo at best. it's pretty clearly a recorder

-my mom plays the recorder. i wonder if she can play recorder better than neil cicierega

-we can throw a party in honor of the crushing weight of responsibility! i simply won't be the one throwing it because i have enough on my plate already <3

-what the hell does "a sense of intent" mean

-i've never heard rush before however i disagree with neil's understanding of 6/4. 6/4 is meant to have emphasis (onbeat or another term i can't remember) on the 1st & 4th beat of every measure, which is greatly different from a measure of 4/4 then a measure of 2/4. it's why his 5/4 always sounds weird, because while it's recognizable in sequences of 10/4, it's more 2 measures of 4/4 with one of 2/4 tacked on the end. that's also how it's different from 3/4. i don't know much music theory but what i do understand i will fight to the death about

-"canonized" that's. a very interesting term to use when referring to a former president

-from now on i will interpret every love song directed at some unseen "you" to be inviting me to marry them for tax purposes. thanks neil for being an aromantic icon

-ah hell yes hell yes man-made object is my favorite goddam song on this album

-short & sweet & good damn vibes. neil's thoughts on it all are only making it better

-wild how he uses very few vocal effects for a song that he clearly is straining his vocal range for. go off neil

-the qualifier of man-made is a wonderful thing. oldest or biggest thing? oldest or biggest man-made thing? what a incredibly important specification. a world of possibilities lie between the two. oh i love it

-just gets me thinking yknow! what we consider weird/impressive in another species, in our own species- what kind of equivalent to that would there be from an outsider looking in? are there alien versions of the significances we place upon things, that we could never imagine? the limits of the human imagination mean we could never conceive of something else in the world that isn't, in some way great or small, just like us- and are we wrong for thinking that? such a juicy topic i wish there were a name for it because it's kinda hard to explain concisely

-spiral of ants. my second favorite song from this album, in fact. a good one to experience

-the vocals are just another instrument. they really truly are. i wasn't going into this commentary expecting to feel solidarity for neil cicierega in this chili's tonight on more than one occasion but here i am.

-like, his whole stance on interpreting songs is something i agree with almost entirely. you can take it at face value, you can dig to their very depths, you can listen to songs without caring what the lyrics mean whatsoever, and those are all fun. & yeah while any of these people can be annoying as one of the types who enjoys gliding on the surface more than anything i find those who dedicate themselves to figuring out the whole meaning of a song over anything else to be both slightly scary & slightly annoying <3 keep up the good work

-i want to make songs for my siblings the way neil makes songs for his sibling(s)

-spinch

-neil really shouldn't be allowed to be this funny like this whole album youre thinking golly! he's just a normal man this neil cicierega! and then he starts listing the cat hacks jokes & you remember he's had ridiculously consistent viral success with all his humorous endeavors and holy shit it's neil cicierega in action talking about his music. god bless you neil

-you're welcome, no problem, my pleasure. good eveternoon, radio audience!

#lemon demon #spirit phone #pretty sure this is my first bit of spirit phone content on my blog. hi greater lem dem fandom nice to see y'all. go listen to deporitaz #loolin liveblogs #i enjoyed this less for the content the commentary contained & more for the way i handled it. more pleasant than some times ive had #tis i #i havent listened to spirit phone in general in ages. i know why. so this was nice #to the world and back again

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imagine-straykids · 4 years

Text

Han Jisung: Crushed

short summary: when Jisung has a crush on you, he may not be the best at expressing his feelings

genre: fluff x romance

word counts: 5,350 words

Jisung wasn’t sure when or why he started liking you. Maybe it was the way you’d always awkwardly stumble upon your words; maybe it was the way you’d take jabs at yourself sometimes; maybe it was the way you listened to him as if he was the only person in the world. Well, he wasn’t entirely sure. But all he knew was that you stole his heart and he doesn’t want it back.

Who would’ve ever thought that Han Jisung, a music prodigy, basically a star student, would ever fall head over heels for someone like you who admittedly only joined a music course because you needed a filler class.

The first time you guys talked, it was because you needed help identifying some music notes. You were not the best at music--actually not very good at all, but you can sing a little bit, yay? You don’t know why you thought taking this class as an extra would be a good idea. Because it wasn’t. It was much harder than you had expected. Hell, you don’t know what you were thinking, because everybody here was basically legendary at what they do.

Anyways, well, one day your teacher had you guys do this assignment and you struggled like a bitch. While you were still on the first page losing at least 10 brain cells per question, you had noticed that Jisung, who was seated in front of you had already finished. You were amazed--No. Amazed was an understatement. You were shook even though you knew you shouldn’t be. He was pretty much second to no one in this class.

A few moments later, your teacher’s loud voice echoed through the room.

“Okay class! You have 10 more minutes left! I will be collecting your papers after that.” Your teacher sat down after her announcement.

“10 minutes? Crap! I’m not even through the first page yet...” you cursed quietly under your breath out of natural habits. You weren’t expecting anyone nearby to hear you, and you were actually hoping they didn’t. But your words did not manage to miss Jisung’s ears as you had leaned in a little bit too closely behind him when you mumbled.

You were too busy scribbling down whatever you were scribbling because frankly you weren’t really sure what you were doing. As you lifted your head up trying to take a look at the clock, you were instead met with Jisung’s puppy eyes as he had been examining what you were doing for the last 5 seconds or so. A small gasp escaped your mouth and you blinked out of fright, but not loud enough to catch anyone’s attention. Just loud and visible enough for you to make a fool out of yourself in front of Han Jisung.

“Do you need any help?” He smiled.

Ahhhh oh my gosh, he smiled, you internally screamed inside your head.

“I--uhm--uh--yeah, I kind of do--” you stumbled around your words awkwardly.

This shouldn’t have been as nerve wrecking, but why is it.

“I can help you. What do you need help with?”

“Oh uhm... the whole paper to be honest. I’m kind of... new to this kind of class.”

And that was pretty much your guys first time talking to each other. Ever since then, he would always voluntarily ask if you needed any help, to which you were very much appreciative for. He really did not have to be this nice to you, but he was. Bless his whole ass soul.

Little by little, working out assignments together turned into small talks between you guys, or rather silly stories told by himself, and you in return would share stories of your siblings to him and just how annoying they are to you daily. He liked to listen to your tales because he didn’t have any younger siblings and his older brother lived in another town.

Your Music class that used to be so intimidating to you because you were so far behind everyone else, the class that used to make you feel talentless and lonely as hell, you now had something to look forward to.

Oddly, Jisung could say the same thing too. Everyday back and forth to him was just go to classes, head to dance practice after school, go home, study, and repeat. But his somehow repetitive lifestyle started looking a little bit more exciting after meeting you. All his other classes were okay, but somehow he was always looking forward to 6th period; his music class. Looking forward to that special someone he could talk to about how his day has went so far.

Sometimes zoning out in his other classes, thinking about all the kind of things to say or tell you whenever he does get to 6th period. It was a foreign feeling that he had never experienced before. Not for anyone else. He’s had crushes in the past, but they were mostly puppy love, or crushes that would last a week at most. But every time he gets closer to you, every time he’s communicating with you, he feel his heart exploding a million times, and all the little things you would do like mumbling things to yourself thinking nobody would hear, the way you would twitch your nose whenever something upsets you a little, pressing the wrong keys when practicing, or just the way you would laugh at the smallest things he said just does a different kind of twist on his heart string.

Day by day he found himself becoming greedier and greedier, wanting to become something much more with you. But he didn’t know if that was too weird considering you guys don’t interact outside of this class, besides the small gestures you both would exchange sometimes when passing by one another.

He wasn’t sure if he was moving too fast or not, but it was 4 months ago that he started talking to you. 4 months ago when he talked to you, the one who would make him question so many things about himself.

He don’t know if he should wait it out and see if you’ll say anything, but from how you’re acting, it doesn’t look as if any changes was coming soon. He was growing more impatient every time he gets the chance to talk to you, because to him, you were just... so adorable.

One day after class ended, he finally managed up the courage to ask you if you wanted to go for a drink after school, to which you said yes. He was met with pleasure, but at the same time, terror. Was he really about to do this? No no. He was not ready. But he also does not want to be just friends anymore. He was mentally battling his thoughts the whole time walking there that he even missed out on some things you’ve told him.

You became aware that Jisung was not being himself and was rather gloomy today all of a sudden.

“Jisung, are you alright?” You asked him worriedly.

Your voice snapped him back to reality.

“Y-yeah I am fine y/n! Sorry, I was just thinking about how much homework I have today,” he assured you.

Really? A lot of homework? That’s really the best thing you can think of, Jisung criticized himself in his head.

“Oh... I see. Well we should probably go grab a seat so you can let loose some tension.”

Jisung nodded and you guys found a spot in the back corner.

As soon as you guys sat down, Jisung’s face positioned toward his feet as if he’s rethinking life decisions.

This was unusual for him because although you were not with him often, rarely did you ever see him looking so down. He was always jolly every time he entered the classroom. This was a rather new Jisung for you.

“Hey Jisung, you’re a smart person! You will finish all the work alright. And if you need any help, I am always here for you,” you tried to comfort him.

“Huh--O-o yeah. Thank you. Sorry I’m a little bit spaced out,” he said so quietly.

“Jisung, if there’s anything that’s bothering you, you can always tell me. I won’t ever judge, you know that. I just hope you’re okay.”

The more worried you were for him, the more it made him want to throw up from nervousness. Because you’re encouraging him to confess but at the same time, discouraging, because he was just that afraid he might ruin a good relationship with someone like you.

“I’m fine, y/n. You can go ahead and order something. I need to use the restroom real quick.” He stood up and made his way to the men’s restroom.

He quickly shut himself in and slid down the wall onto his knees as he puffed out breath of airs.

After he had situated in a comfortable position, he took his phone out and called Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin, I-I cannot do it. I can’t. I feel so weak and nervous right now I think I might throw up,” Jisung ranted.

“Tell me about it. That was a such a shit show. Dude, I got second hand embarrassment from it.”

“W-wait what. How did you know what happened?”

“Me and Jeongin come to this cafe every day after school. We were seated right across from you guys, but you were too busy being a nervous freak to notice.”

“Oh wow, so Jeongin saw it too. I really just cannot. I don’t think I can go out after this. My hands are sweating. Can you like, make up some kind of excuse for me?”

“Like what kind of excuse?”

“I don’t know... just tell her I went home because I feel sick.”

“What? Then she’s going to say why didn’t you just tell her.”

“Then just say because I was in a rush,” Jisung grew impatient trying to reason with Hyunjin.

“I guess then. At this pace, you’re never going to get a girlfriend.”

Jisung was about to say something back but Hyunjin already cut off the line.

When Jisung came in the next day, you asked him if he was alright, and he gave you a short answer but nothing more than that.

You tried initiating a few more small talks with him but he was really just out of it, you had a feeling you should just leave him to be. He’s probably going through a difficult time right now.

When the bell rung signaling it was time to leave, you bid a small goodbye wave to Jisung before you left but it was only met with an awkward smile from him.

The next three days continued on pretty much like the scenario above. You would try starting a conversation but it wasn’t much of a conversation if you were the only one talking. Eventually, you stopped trying to talk to him.

You would be lying if you were to say you weren’t upset or concerned. You didn’t know if you had said something that offended him, or if he found out that you secretly have a crush on him and is creep out by it. Either way, both situation weren’t going to end well for you.

The day you guys went to the cafe was the day he started acting indifferent. Maybe he heard that small fart you ripped out along the way or something. But you swore on god that it didn’t smell that bad. Maybe that day he meant to tell you he doesn’t want to be friends or talk to a loser like you anymore, but wasn’t courageous enough to finish what he started, that’s why he sent Hyunjin over to get rid of you.

It honestly sucks because your music teacher has recently assigned you guys with a project and in your head, you and Jisung would’ve had a blast discussing about what you guys were going to do for it. All of the things he or you would’ve said kept playing over and over in your head. But then again, you shouldn’t jump into conclusion.

You’ll just confront him on Monday and see what the real deal is. You just hope it wasn’t anything too serious that he’s brooding about. If you had hurt him in some shape or form, you would like to know and apologize dearly.

Jisung felt like an imbecile. An even bigger fool than the one he was before. He couldn’t believe he thought ignoring and avoiding you would suppressed his feelings or prevent you from asking anything relevant.

It probably did, but now the feeling of guilt is just eating him up. Your poor face after rambling and getting no response broke his heart. But he was afraid if he were to say anything less than appropriate, he would lose it.

He just wish you’re doing good for yourself and isn’t taking his actions to heart, because he pretty much acknowledge that he’s being stupid.

When he got to dance practice, he slammed his backpack harshly onto the floor of the studio and sighed.

The frustration of his caught the attention of Seungmin, Hyunjin and Jeongin who got here a little bit early too and was prepping up.

“What’s good bro? You alright?” Seungmin asked as he walked forward to Jisung.

“Yeah. You have been looking pretty sad these past few days. I kind of miss that loud crackhead energy of yours even though you can get carried away with it,” Jeongin sensing the rising atmosphere, tried to lighten it up.

“He probably got rejected by his dream girl,” Hyunjin chimmed in.

“Huh?” Seungmin let out in confusion.

“This one girl in his music class that he has a huge crush on for no reason even though they don’t even interact.”

Hyunjin was of course only teasing Jisung.

“Hey! We do interact! It’s just mostly in class. You’re not even in the class itself so shut up Hwang Hyunjin. At least I can keep my crush on one girl, and not the whole freaking school,” Jisung defended himself.

Jeongin let out a small laughter followed by Seungmin.

“That’s true, Hyung. You really need to stick to one person like seriously.” Jeongin threw his arm onto Hyunjin’s shoulder but Hyunjin slapped it off.

“Whatever.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes.

“And no, I didn’t get rejected... I didn’t even ask her out yet.” Jisung admitted in shame.

“Huh?” Seungmin let out again.

“Then what are you so miserable about?” Jeongin cocked his eyebrow.

“I-I’m scared. What if she says no? What if she doesn’t like me like that. Then it’s just going to be awkward. She’s a really sweet person and I don’t want to ruin our friendship just because I think about her more than a friend,” Jisung’s tone dampen the longer he talked.

“But what if she also likes you like that? I mean, you don’t know... you haven’t even asked her.” Seungmin tried to encourage Jisung.

Jeongin nodded in agreement while Hyunjin just let out a chuckle.

“Dude, if you don’t ask her out, I will. Seeing her the other day at the cafe, she’s kind of cute.” Hyunjin goes into thought.

Jisung’s eyes fired up at what Hyunjin said.

“Hey! Stay away from her! But to be honest, she wouldn’t like you anyways. Sorry but she wouldn’t go for someone who changes girls everyday like he changes his clothes. Anyways--can you tell Chan for me that I will be missing practice today. Something came up. Bye!”

And with that, Jisung quickly grabbed his backpack and stormed out of the building.

“Wow, I’m hurt.” Hyunjin put his hand on his chest.

"Jisung, aren’t you going to eat?”

His door flashed opened with his mom’s head in between the crack.

“Soon! I just need to revise this one more time.” His eyes still not leaving his music sheet.

“Dear, don’t overwork yourself. It’s almost 11. You’ve been working on your song ever since you came home. Please come down to eat and you can continue after.” His mom tried to convince him, not wanting her own son to starve to death.

Jisung finally placed the guitar down at the defeat of his mom’s words.

“Alright mom. See you downstairs.”

“Wow Jisung, this is really good. And the lyrics are, wow...” Chan complimented the younger man who came to him for feedbacks on his sample.

“Do you really mean it? I mean... you really think this is good?” Jisung widened his eyes as he searched for an answer in Chan’s own.

“Yeah, of course! Jisung, are you like, okay? Because usually you’re always so confident in your works and rarely do you ever come to me or Changbin for revision.”

“Oh yeah, I’m good. I just need it to be perfect because I’m performing this song for my project on Monday and I need it to be A plus.”

Chan nodded.

“I am 100% sure you are going to ace this.”

Monday had came super fast, and when reality hit that you’ll be performing in front of the class again, it railed up your anxiety very bad.

The last few projects or performances you guys had was mostly just instruments based, as the teacher wanted to see how well the students were progressing on their skills. But now you needed to dance or sing and you weren’t so sure how this was going to end.

You weren’t no song writing goddess or instruments playing master, so you were just going to do a quick simple cover of Red Velvet Psycho.

As long as you don’t sound like a dying goat, you’ll do just fine.

You were honestly looking forward to Jisung’s performance as well. Because every time he goes up, he always come up with the most creative or mind blowing performances. Jisung didn’t need talents, talents needed Jisung.

Classes passed by like the wind, probably because most of the time you were in your own world.

The closer it was to your 6th period, the more anxious you were, and you were already very anxious to begin with.

When the time finally came, you walked into the class and sat down at your desk. Jisung still hasn’t arrived yet.

With time to kill, your eyes circled the room and for fun, you tried guessing what some of the students would be doing.

Mhmm, that girl Yoona in the back, you’ve seen a few of her song covers on Youtube, so chances are she’ll be singing.

That guy to the right of you performed in the rally last semester, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he bounced out some steps later on.

Your thoughts were intruded when you heard the door slammed shut, your attention shifted to your teacher who stood tall in front of all of you.

“Good Afternoon class, I hope you’re all doing well, and I hope you all have something prepared today as well,” She smiled.

She then does this thing where she’ll move her eyes from left to right, trying to pick out any students who’s missing.

The desk in front of you, which belongs to Jisung, was still empty.

Jesus, does he really hate you that much that he’ll even risk losing points. You really wanted to make things right today. Or at least try working out whatever is going on between you guys, which you don’t even know what is it.

“Jisung isn’t here yet?” Your teacher asked.

You only shook your head.

“Alright, well then it looks like we’ll have to continue without h--”

Your teacher was interrupted when the door busted opened. Jisung showed up looking like he just woke up, almost out of breath like. You could tell his hair was slightly messier and the shade in his pupils darkened compared to other days. His eye bags were also more prominent.

“--Sorry, I got caught up in things.” Jisung bowed down to your teacher and then to the rest of the class.

“You’re fine. Go take a seat.” She dismissed.

Jisung bowed again before trailing to his desk. Along the way, you guys unintentionally met eyes, followed by Jisung awkwardly breaking the contact by looking at the wall, then taking a seat.

All you could think about at the moment was what did you do to Jisung that he’s going to this extent to avoid you. Did he read your diary when you went to the restroom, and found out about that one experience you wrote when you and your family went to the water park and your stomach hurted badly so you did a little oopsie near the kids section and they never found out it was you--Oh gosh, you couldn’t imagine.

Whatever it was, Jisung must have his reasons, and you really need to stop jumping to conclusions. Everything will be okay as long as you talk to him today.

“Now that everybody’s here, we should get started, we don’t have a lot of time.”

Then your teacher started picking out names one after another. You did genuinely enjoyed their performances, but every time someone finished, you just want to crawl into the corner and hide away from the rest of the world, because pray to the lord you don’t get called on.

Everybody was doing so good so far.

“Please give a big round of applause to Saeron,” your teacher followed after Saeron had finished.

Everyone clapped in awed but it’ll always dimmed whenever your teacher call on the next person.

“Y/n!” She held up the piece of paper in her hand with your name written on it.

“Huh?” you were taken back at the sound of your name.

“It’s your turn, y/n.” Your teacher sternly looked at you.

“Oh--right, right.” You sluggishly got up and made ways to the front.

“Uhm, for today I’ll be covering Psycho by Red Velvet. I hope you’ll all like it.” you awkwardly turned to your teacher to give her the go to put on the instrumental.

Your heart was racing so fast.

It’s okay, you can do it.

You got me feeling like a psycho psycho People keep telling us As we fight like it’s our last but then we get along They don’t get it, it’s so funny

The last piece of lyrics escaped your mouth and you sighed in relief. You bowed to the class after you were finished and was met with applause from all around the room.

“Good job, y/n. You may now take a seat.” Your teacher smiled.

You walked back to your seat, having felt like you did a decent job, at least by the feedbacks.

“Next up, Han Jisung.”

You had completely forgotten about him, and that he was watching your whole performance. Ahhhhh

But on the flip side, you were excited to see what he had prepared.

The room was filled with silence while waiting for him. He finally grabbed his guitar and went up, gulped, then stared at you for a second, but you weren’t able to read his expression.

He had displayed a more tense body language, his eyes barely meeting anyone’s. The Han Jisung you knew had always been so confident and couldn’t wait for his name to be called, while the one that stood in front of you right now looked like every ounce of his soul had left his body.

Oh man, you don’t know how much more surprises he could pull on you. You just had never seen him like this before. Or is it that you never knew him all along. Your thoughts were cut short when Jisung spoke.

“For today... I’'ll be singing a song that I wrote for uh, a special someone. I-I hope that person will like it.” He threw on a nervous smile and right then, his eyes met yours. An innocent, sweet kind of enchanted look that pulled you right in.

“Oooooooooooooooo,” the students giggled and awed.

Was he talking about me? You thought.

No way. He hates me. But why did he look at me? Oh my gosh, is this song about me? Wait--why is he writing a song about me--wait what?! You continued fighting inside your head but not for long before Jisung began playing his melody.

The calming and relaxing tone of the guitar could almost put you to sleep, of course in a good way. The soft and dreamy tune like this was something only Jisung could pull off.

Then he started singing,

“When I first met you, I honestly didn’t think too much

You were like any other person to me, someone to talk to

but slowly, each day, you’ve showed me that you were someone worth loving, worth taking care of, worth falling in love with

Before I knew it, my heart was yours.”

okay excuse those shitty lyrics, I just made it up

Every words that he said, you could see and felt that he really meant it. He wasn’t just spitting out lyrics for the sake of this project. He was speaking from his heart and mind. As if he was trying to reach out to someone. He wrote those lyrics specifically for a certain someone.

Was it for you? Was it for the girl at the back of you?

You had no idea, but you were still secretly wishing it was for you.

The whole class’s attention and yours were glued onto him, not missing a bit of his performance. Han Jisung really got everyone whipped.

When he finished up on the last part of the song, the class exploded in applause. It was the loudest group of claps anyone has gotten so far. You were also slapping your hands together like a crazy seal.

He may not be acting like himself and is coming off a bit odd right now, but for sure, the boy’s talents is something that would never change.

The rest of the period concluded with other students showcasing what they had prepared. Not everyone got a chance as class was a bit too short, but your teacher reassured the ones who didn’t get to go up today, will be called up tomorrow. Sucks to be them.

You were knocked out for a second before remembering that you were going to ask Jisung today, whether he wants to answer or not. Jisung was still fixated on his backpack, digging and shoving through it, so you waited unsuspiciously.

He stopped the ruckus when he pulled out a piece of white paper with some words on it. You can’t read it but you can only make out the squiggly black lines. It seems that was exactly what he was looking for, so after that, he threw his backpack on.

Panicked, afraid he might leave before you can catch him, you stepped out of your seat to confront him, only for him to turn around, causing you guys to face each other instead.

“I need you talk to you,” You both said at the same time.

“What?” Both of you guys tilted your head in sync again.

“You first,” you gave him the go.

“No, you first,” He declined.

“Fine--I just--wait.” You inspected the surroundings. You guys were still in class and this was not a good setting because anyone can just walk in any moment.

“I think it’s better if we talk somewhere else.” you continued.

You guys stopped at the school garden, and when you made sure that absolutely no one was around, you proceeded.

“I just want to know what’s been going on lately. You’ve been ignoring and avoiding me. Did I do something wrong that had upset you? I would like to know, Jisung. Just completely ghosting me like this hurts.”

You promised yourself you weren’t going to get emotional about this.

“I know I’m a jerk, Y/n. I know. And I’m sorry about that. I just, I just... don’t know how to express my feelings to you, y/n. I’m confused, I’m lost, I’m scared, I don’t know... but I’m also in love...” He said the last part quietly, but you could still hear it.

“In love? With someone else? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“No no.” Jisung shook his head, getting more frustrated by the moment.

“And that song you sung in class, was--was that for someone?” you timidly asked. You have a theory it might be for you, but you do not want to say it, afraid you’re going to come out looking like a fool if he meant it for someone else.

“Yeah it was...”

“Jisung, if you have feelings for someone, you don’t have to hide it from me, I’m fine with it. If you like them, go for it. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, like you couldn’t be open about your relationships or feelings.”

“No no, y/n. You don’t get it,” Jisung exhaled.

“What do you mean? What am I not getting?”

“I didn’t write that song for someone else, or anyone else. I wrote it for you. You, y/n. I wrote those lyrics for you.”

You could hear the disappointment in his tone and his head hanging in defeat.

“Oh...” was all you could say. Not because you didn’t like him. No. You like him. A lot. Oh was the only thing you could let out because reality was getting a little hard to accept, knowing Han Jisung likes you, and wrote a song for you.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s okay if you do not feel the same way. I really only wrote it because I didn’t know any other way to let my feelings out, and music was what I’m best at. I did felt a little better after writing the lyrics, and after performing, knowing you were listening to it. Here, take this.”

He stretched his arm out to hand you something. It was the piece of paper he was holding earlier. It had the lyrics he had written for you on it.

“It’s okay to not feel the same way. But I hope you accept this. I might feel a little bit better if you do.”

You extended your arm to take the white sheet of paper, still speechless.

“I’ll get going now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave you a small smile combined with a bow and almost walked away from your sight.

“Wait Jisung!” You stopped him in his track.

“I--I, I feel the same way too, Jisung. I like you too. And I have for a while now.”

Jisung could’ve swore he heard that wrong, but he almost dropped his backpack at what you said.

He switched back to you, his face was planted with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen from anyone.

“R-really? Y-you like me too?” He asked again for confirmation.

You nodded.

The next moment happened so fast, and before you can process anything, you were already in Jisung’s warmth. Your chin on his shoulder and his arms wrapping around you.

“I’m so happy! Really happy, Y/n! You don’t know how happy I am!”

uwu He was too adorable.

With your hands on his chest, you pushed a little bit to create a distance.

“Wait, then why were you avoiding me?” you frowned as you gazed at his face for answers.

“Because I don’t know. I was scared you wouldn’t like me back. I didn’t want to hurt my friendship with you. That day at the cafe I was planning on confessing but I got so nervous, I dipped. I’m sorry, Y/n. I’m a coward. But I promise from this day on, I will tell you everything. I won’t ever do it again. I-I really like you. Give me a chance.”

He pouted and trapped you in his hug.

“Alright alright. I forgive you.”

He finally lets go of you, but his idiocy smile still not leaving his face.

“What?”

“I don’t know. You’re just cute.”

“Pfft.”

You cheeks grew red from his remarks. Oh god, this feels so weird.

“Come on, let’s go.” He suddenly grabbed your hand, perfectly aligning it with his.

“Go where?”

“To introduce my new girlfriend to my friends.”

He ran at full speed, dragging you as you were struggling to catch up.

The End :)

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Epilogue

The Dakrness and the Light

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 3530

Summary: There are loose ends to tie; with Sam and Dean... and other friends. You really thought the times for rendering you speechless were gone.

You were wrong.

Warnings: swearing, brief angst, guilt trips, brief talk on religion, fluff

Story masterlist

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True to your words, you decided to ask the experts on weird people appearing out of nowhere and shooting light from their hands about the strange experience you had; an encounter that resulted in you gaining your memories back.

Sam and Dean were ecstatic when you told them about remembering everything – including the time you had spent with them though, one set of memories not replacing the other.

After enough cheering via your Skype call, you sent the footage.

The silence stretched as the brothers watched the recording, their eyes wide with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. They seemed spooked, shocked, perplexed and quite a bit fascinated too, to be honest. Steve’s arm around your waist tightened, both of you holding your breath in anticipation.

Oh God, who was the woman? Was she a friend of Rowena? Worse, was she a friend of the King of Hell they had mentioned? Who-

“Holy shit,” Sam finally exclaimed, making you blink in shock. Since when Sam swore? Admittedly, you hadn’t spent that much time with them, but-?

“Quite literally,” Dean conceded, squinting at the screen again as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. You were sure you were about to burst – or at least that your heart would beat its way out of your chest with how forcefully it was hammering against your ribcage. “I thought they went under? Or, you know, up?”

“So did I.”

“Guys? We’re not following. You know who or what this was?” you asked them breathlessly, unable to bear the suspense anymore.

Sam cleared his throat and apparently closed the video, because they were following you with their gaze again.

“Uhm yeah. That was God’s sister who paid you a visit.”

Your heart positively stopped for a second-- and then you laughed self-depreciatingly. Don’t be stupid, hey don’t mean that literally.

…they couldn’t, right?

“…is that a euphemism for something?”

“Nope,” Dean accented the ‘P’ and shrugged for a good measure, knocking the air out of your lungs. And of Steve’s, probably freezing his brain along the way, because his figure went absolutely rigid behind you.

“God’s sister?” Steve parroted and you were sure he wasn’t even breathing at that point.

“Yeah. Her name’s Amara. I’m pretty sure she had a crush on Dean,” Sam explained casually as if it wasn’t a big deal.

God.

And God’s sister-

--wait, what? A crush? Huh?

“Dude. Come on!” Dean called out exasperatedly, hint of red pulsing in his cheeks.

“Like… the actual God’s sister? God, the religion figure… and his sister?”

“Yeah. Amara. The Darkness. God’s sister, whatever. We helped them to solve their family issues a while back,” Dean confirmed, a smug smile tugging at his lips at your disbelief.

“I beg your pardon?” Steve blurted out, as if reading your frantic thoughts.

It was a lot to chew to begin with, but did Dean really just call her The Darkness? Why weren’t they freaked out by that?!

Sam sighed. “It’s complicated. Look, she also brought our mum back from death, but from what we know now, from what she said to you, it looks like Chuck brought you back and Amara thought you should also have your memories. Don’t worry about it, we’re used to this kind of crazy.”

It took you several moments of the wheels in your head turning before you connected the dots and actually registered what he was saying.

Wait, whoa, whoa, whoa, that would mean that Chuck was… the brother. Which made him… which made him-

“God’s name is Chuck?” you choked out at the same time as Steve questioned a different exclaim of Sam’s: “Don’t worry about it?”

“Yeah. Chill. Be grateful,” Dean shrugged it off as if he didn’t notice your confusion and struggle to comprehend why on Earth God would bring you back from the death and his sister (the hell-- heaven?) stopped by to return your memories on top of that.

“Hey, are you okay? You look a little pale there,” Dean hummed, eyebrows furrowing in actual concern.

Yeah, no shit. I’d like to see your face if you found out that you were saved by—oh, wait, you actually might have…

“It’s… that’s a lot to chew.”

“Come on, you already knew you rose from the dead, this can’t be-“

Sam covered his brother’s mouth with a hand, annoyed look on his face before he smiled at you compassionately. “We know. But we’re serious. There’s nothing we can do about that, just enjoy what you were given. You both have your soulmate back. Be happy.”

“Though I gotta say, my heart is broken. I was holding out for you,” Dean teased you, having wrestled free from Sam’s grasp.

“Dean!”

To be fair, Steve didn’t even flinch at such suggestion, knowing Dean’s flirty nature already, and you were pretty sure he even rolled his eyes.

“Kidding. Call us if you need help, okay?”

“Can I call to just check up on you?” you pried carefully, unable to help the warm smile slowly spreading on your lips as they slapped their hands over the other’s, Sam’s trying to shut his menacing brother up.

They stopped at instant.

“Uhm… yeah?” Dean hummed, clearly surprised, while the younger brother charmed a sweet smile.

“Good. Be careful, guys. I mean it. Let an angel watch over you. And look after him too. Send him my best wishes.”

“We will. We’ll see you, Fire Princess,” Dean winked at you and you huffed. Jerk.

“I hate you,” you murmured, waved at Sam and shut the laptop close, shaking your head.

Steve’s lips found the crook on your neck, nuzzling his face there then.

“Do you understand any of the things they said?” you slightly shifted, your lips catching his halo-like hair, your back leaning onto his chest.

“Nope.”

“And you don’t care,” you stated when he kissed your skin again

“Nope,” he confirmed cheerily, pulling your back to make you lie down on the bed. You complied, ending up on your side, spooned by his warm muscular form. “Besides wanting to know what Fire Princess means, I’m just happy to have you back, doll. You’re all that matters.”

“Steve…”

You heart fluttered in your chest, chasing heat to your cheeks at his sweettalking.

“I mean it. I’m not letting go of you, ever. If I have to lay down my shield, I don’t care. As long as I have you… I have everything I need.”

“Steve, I…” he eased his hold a bit when you squeezed his hand, allowing you to turn and face him. His eyes burned with sincerity, the way you remembered they always did when trying to convince you about something you found hard to believe – usually concerning his feelings. “I… I don’t-“

“I love you. And I mean it. Just say the word.”

“But I… I can’t be enough, Steve. That’s-“ you protested, your head spinning at the thought.

He couldn’t be serious. Could he? Steve had a heart of gold and fighting for the good cause in his blood. He couldn’t stop. Or maybe he could, but at what cost? How long it would take him to realize what a mistake he had made? And what if he blamed you then? Worse, what if someone on the team would get hurt in his absence and he would blame you for that?

Rationally, you knew the last scenario was of zero probability, because Steve would definitely hold himself responsible, no one else, but that only proved your-

His thumb tenderly traced the shape of your lips, eyes seemingly bluer than usual, as if he forced them to change their colour just to look more genuine and innocent, unable to lie.

“You are. I spent weeks thinking-- thinking that I lost you – because of what I did, no less – and nothing mattered anymore, not really.”

“You love your job,” you stated slowly, incredulous that he was actually considering it. You tried hard to push the rise of hope and annoyingly adoring feelings towards him that bloomed in your chest.

He couldn’t do that, stop that, you bitch, he was not just yours- it wouldn’t be your choice to make-- but that was just wrong--- what if he got fed up with you-

“I loved my job – mostly because it was the only thing familiar in this century. The job was my life. And look where it got me.”

“Face to face with me, resurrected?” you teased with an awkward attempt at smile, unsure of what to make of this conversation and the mess of feelings it stirred within you. Steve only raised one corner of his lips at your silly joke. “No, seriously. I love you too. I love you and that’s why I can’t let you quit, not for me. You’re Steve Rogers. You’re Captain America. It’s like giving up your half.”

“I’ve done that once,” he muttered darkly, looking away. “And you took the other half with you.”

Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes at the reminder of why he might in fact could be able to give up on his job; because of the terrible sorrow it had brought him when making the impossible decision in his title’s favour.

You weren’t naïve, not that much at least. You both knew that that particular situation would have never happened if he was doing literally anything else for living.

You sighed, cupping his cheek and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Okay. We’ll think about it and talk about it later, alright? Now I just want to kiss you and cuddle you for eternity.”

His lips curled up in a brilliant smile that always made you smile back automatically, making your whole body pliant and feather-light.

“That is the best plan ever, darling,” he praised, planting a kiss to your forehead, indeed snuggling closer, leading your head to hide under his chin. Gosh, you loved when he did that, engulfing you, protecting you from the whole world.

“Thanks, Mr. Rogers.”

“No. Thank you. Thank you for coming back to me.”

You smiled against his throat, kissing his Adam’s apple. “We’ve been over this, I didn’t exactly-“

Hand still in your hair, he guided you from your favourite spot with light pull, only so he could shut you up with a kiss.

You sure as hell didn’t resist and lazily returned the affection, content to stay in that moment forever.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

In real life, moments like that didn’t last forever. Sooner or later, duties and decisions came knocking.

Decisions were hard, especially when coming back from the dead and having to choose if you should keep it secret or not for instance and oh so many more things that needed to be dealt with; which was exactly the reason why you had been avoiding it, but that couldn’t go on for much longer.

For the moment, you decided there weren’t many people to confide in, but there were still some that deserved it.

A priest of the church where your own little altar was placed was one of them, mostly because of the meeting you wanted to hold there. Then again, officially it had been Steve who invited Ryan to a safe place with little information on the reason behind such action.

Steve had warned you he hadn’t spoken to him since before your death, but it could never prepare you for the cold welcome he had got when they came face to face, while you were hiding in the shadows.

“Captain Rogers,” Ryan greeted him stiffly, voice even and sharp enough to cut deeply and precisely with that particular addressing. You and Steve had talked; you knew he had troubles coming to terms with the title after he had lost you despite burying himself in his work and making it look like it was the exact opposite.

“Ryan. Thank you for coming.”

“Why am I here? What do you want?”

Was it just you or did Ryan sound really annoyed as if he couldn’t leave this encounter soon enough? What happened to him?

“I needed to talk to you about something important,” Steve replied softly despite your best friend’s attitude.

Ryan scoffed, crossing his arms on his chest. He was a bit thinner than you remembered, but that might only be the outfit he was wearing; the sweater looked a size too big for him to begin with.

“I have nothing to talk about with you, Steve. Frankly, you being here in this very church is like a sick joke. You weren’t here when it counted. What held you? Work, I imagine?”

Even you winced at the cruel words. This didn’t sound like the man you were best friends with. Was he truly so angry with Steve? Or was it because his heart was still heavy with grief? You didn’t know whether to be touched, angry back or just sad.

And what did Ryan mean by Steve not being here when it mattered?

“It wasn’t like that-” Steve tried to explain and for the first time, his voice cracked, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Imagine that. All of them were here. All of the freaking Avengers came to her funeral-“

Oh. Oh. You had no idea what to make of that. Steve had kinda forgotten to mention that fact to you. You should have figured; he did warn you they hadn’t spoken since before your death. Shit.

Unlike Ryan, you knew it wasn’t the lack of sorrow that had held Steve back from coming – even without him telling you so, it was clear as day to you.

“-even the one from another planet. But you? Her soulmate? Gosh, Steve… what’s your excuse?”

The question was clearly meant to sting and one single glance at Steve told you that it did precisely that; his eyelids fallen shut, his hands balling into fists.

“Do you really need to ask?” Steve chuckled bitterly, forcing himself to relax his hands. You more heard the tears in his voice than saw them from your spot behind the pillar and your heart ached. “How could I show up, Ryan? After what I did? How could I look into your eyes, to her parents’ eyes? I killed her, Ryan. Don’t you think for a second that I don’t feel guilty or regret it every single day. What I did, why I… I-”

“You don’t need to explain yourself, Steve. I understand why you made the choice you did…” Ryan interrupted him with a sigh and a sideway look, almost as if in conciliatory manner. “But that doesn’t mean I hate you any less for it. Or that I don’t blame you for her death. Because I do. It was your fault.”

Ouch.

“I know. And I understand. You have every right.”

Well, this was going splendidly. Another guilt trip for Steve and hostility from your friend. Just peachy. You seriously considered just walking in regardless Steve’s plea for you to wait for his signal.

“And yet I’m grateful for the weeks you spent together. You made her happiest I have ever seen her. It’s funny how I can hate you for it at the same time,” Ryan added then, his eyes turning compassionate and kind, only a shadow of sorrow remaining.

“Life is that way sometimes. But… I didn’t come here to ask forgiveness, Ryan.”

“Good, ‘cause you’re not getting any. Why are we here then?”

Now this sounded more like Ryan. The corner of your lips rose in a tinniest smile.

“Because she always said you were her platonic soulmate. She trusted you with everything. And you deserve to know.”

“Deserve to know what?”

“That miracles happen,” Steve said simply, not making any sense to the other man. Drama queen. Then again, God had probably saved you, so he wasn’t exaggerating.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Is that why we met in a church? Some weird symbolism to… to what?” Ryan sputtered, getting impatient. You almost walked out right then. But you trusted Steve to prepare your friend better for the shock now.

“No. We met here because I believed it was a safe place and you wouldn’t have come to the Tower.”

“Safe place?” Ryan asked warily, eyeing his surroundings suspiciously, his gaze shifting to your soulmate again. “For what?”

You cleared your throat, deciding this was the moment and stepped out. Ryan’s eyes bulged, his face drained of all colour.

“Hello, Ryan. Long time, no see,” you offered a teary smile and he blinked, your name falling from his lips breathlessly and with thousands of questions unspoken.

His gaze flickered to Steve, who smiled at him tightly, gently beckoning to you, encouraging him.

Ryan took several shaky steps and you stopped, letting him cross the distance in his own pace, getting him a chance to back away when feeling like it. On the inside, you wanted to run to him and let the man engulf you in a hug and never let go, but you realized what kind of a shock it must have been.

Hell, you were still coming to terms with it.

“Baby?” he whispered, voice trembling and breaking on the single word. You didn’t bother blinking away your tears, only nodding.

At that, Ryan erased the distance in two long strides, throwing his arms around your neck and sobbing right in your ear. His breath hitched when you hugged him back; as if he had been expecting this was only a trick.

It wasn’t.

“Hey, Ry-Ry,” you rasped, your sob nearly in sync with his, which was ridiculous.

He withdrew then, framing your face with his palms, his eyes travelling all over you.

“I saw you die,” he choked out, incredulous, awed.

“Yeah, lots of people did,” you agreed, covering one of his hands with yours. “It’s a long story.”

His blown-up irises widened further. “Was that… some kind of a cover-up? Did you- how could you not tell-?!”

“It wasn’t a cover-up!” you hurried, shaking your head as his arms fell from you. ”I died, Ry-Ry. I told you it’s a long story.”

“I have time,” he mused, still starring at you, measuring you from head to toe, perplexed and teary.

“Then maybe you should sit down. Before what I tell you knocks you flat on your ass.”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

A smile was tugging at Steve’s lips at their interaction. Ryan was amazed, naturally, and Steve could relate; having her back was everything. He hadn’t been lying to her when he had told her he would lay down his shield if she asked him to. He would do anything only if it meant she would meet his gaze like at that exact moment, tears and laughter in her eyes, her lips spreading in that beautiful smile that tugged on his heartstrings.

“Steven,” the priest appeared at his side, voice low so he wouldn’t disturb the reunion. “Why don’t you join me in the back? Let the two friends catch up?”

Steve could stay right there, watching you explain the insane story, but perhaps he shouldn’t. Your best friend deserved your undivided attention and Steve would be happy to let you do so. God knew that while you were bickering and joking with the rest of his team and friends – now your friends too, no doubt – you weren’t beaming as much as you were at the moment. You needed your own time with Ryan.

“I… I suppose I should. Thank you, Father, for allowing this,” Steve expressed his gratitude, only for the other man to nod and give him a kind smile.

“Well, your friend had a point about symbolism here. Miracles do happen.... Speaking of those. I have someone who I would like you to meet.”

Steve blinked in surprise, but followed Father Lantom, trustful. “…alright. What is it, Father?”

“It might come as a shock,” the priest warned him as he stopped in front of the door Steve was familiar with; Father had invited him over for coffee before, but Steve always refused, not wanting to abuse his hospitality.

“My soulmate came back from the dead, Father. I doubt anything can shock me at this point.”

The older-looking man chuckled, his hand laid on the handle. “I’m tempted to make a bet, but I must maintain the façade of an honourable man.”

“Father Lantom… what are you talking about?” Steve gulped, something icy creeping up his spine, his heart speeding up in anticipation.

Surely, the man wouldn’t do anything to hurt Steve. The idea was ridiculous. So why was Steve so nervous all of sudden?

“James? May we enter?”

There was no answer and if there was, Steve couldn’t hear it over the pounding in his ears. A crazy idea, old hope that he could never allow himself to feed because people who died stayed dead, even in this insane world, rising in his chest and suffocating him.

James?

Miracles?

The door opened with a creak and Steve only needed a glimpse to freeze in the doorway, his heart stopping, brain short-circuiting. The world swayed of its place and there was a crushing weight on his chest, crushing and vertigo-inducing at the same time, frantic memories of a friendship that should have lasted until the end of the line flashing in his mind, an agonizing memory of watching the fall, completely helpless.

Steve didn’t know how, but the name left his lips without him remembering forming the simple word; a word that felt like a prayer.

“…Bucky?”

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Bonus chapter ;)

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I know, I know! A cliffhanger. But it’s a nice one, right? A little hopeful, a little teasing your imagination; think about it like a post-credit scene ;)

I can promise a bonus and a short multichapter fic ending this whole soulmate series.

Thank you for reading and your support, every comment means the world to me :-*

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rattyarts · 4 years

Text

Huge-ask post (I am VERY funny)

Because I have so many questions that can be answered with just text, and I have mentioned my dislike of filling my art blog up with Words Words Words... let’s get them all done in one go!

(You guys can blacklist #rattytalks if you’re just here for the draws, btw)

A shit ton of asks under the cut!

Anonymous said: So for the center of the world, what with it being forcefully PG and all Bad Thoughts TM being prevented, how does having kids happen? Do parents just black out and wake up holding a child in their arms and vague memories of the last 9 months?

Ever seen a movie where they do that “and one day... a baby was born!” thing and a kid just appears offscreen with no explanation?

(This is how it works everywhere, Edgelands included; no one does the do or gets pregnant in this setting.)

Anonymous said: Hello! Quick question, and sorry if you’ve answered this before, but can other elves see the “intangible” bits of one another? Big fan of your work btw!

Nope! And thank you!

Anonymous said: Leopold was in my dream last night but I sadly cannot remember any of it.

I am SO sorry. I will try to keep my stinky murder men out of your head in the future.

Anonymous said: are the floaty bits stuck in one spot, or could the one they are attached to learn to move them around their body as long as its still within a certain distance? like, someone with the Floaty limbs, lets call him Ray, can move his limbs all over his body, allowing him to do all sorts of neat things that others with their attached limbs probably couldn't?

Whatever you want, honestly. As a general rule of thumb I don’t like putting down TOO many hard rules that prevent people from having fun with this setting. (Please ignore and scrap anything you think is stupid, I do this all the time and enjoy keeping this setting inconsistent and contradictory)

Anonymous said: Do elf names work off of Death Note rules, or is it like, if you know one elf’s name, all elves with that name are now unable to harm you? So if all the elf brothers are named Martin, for example, does it only work with blue?

I think it’s prolly just the one! Probably? Idk, might change if I think of something funnier.

Anonymous said: Can elves do magic on themselves or does thst go against the knowing name rule

Most people tend to know their own names, lol. So in my opinion, no, but don’t let me stop you if you got a fun idea.

Anonymous said: Could an Elf stitch on parts from another elf and have them work? i.e an Elf's finds the arm of another Elf. "Hey, free arm, might as well put it to good use", so they attach the arm and now they can give three high fives at once!

Same deal as previous questions, I personally would say no, but I also encourage people to do whatever the hell they want. It’s more fun that way!

Anonymous said: I bet elves are greasy to the touch.

They’re very powdery! Like if you rolled them in flour. And by flour I mean nasty glowing elf dandruff.

Anonymous said: Can elves fly or are their wings just for show?

No flying!!! (Unless you’re a mousefly)

Anonymous said: Something tells me that the elves would LOVE Obatzda.

Had to look that up, but definitely!

no1fan15: Not sure if someone asked already- Does Edgeworld have any equivalent to demons and angels? Like the old rubberhose cartoon kind?

Demons, yes! That’s what imps are: basically any demon, devil, or generic monster, but tiny! Even a couple of pop culture critters in there, there’s probably a very small gillman or robot monster running around there somewhere.

Angels, not so far.

Anonymous said: How come Margaret hasn't yeeted George's jar into the Edge yet

I’d say being locked in a closet is good enough! (and also I need him for plot reasons, don’t tell anyone)

Anonymous said: If elves have knees bulges in the front then do they have butt bulges in the back?

i do not want to think about elf bulges

Anonymous said: So if you find a baby Therewoof and you say "aw you're so cute", their true name is So Cute?

Yep!

Anonymous said: Since a Therewoof's true name can be something like "cutie pie" or "dingus", does their name have to be spoken with "intent" for it to doggo-fy them? Or do they just have to live with the reality that any casual conversation/flirting can make them lose up to a month to Doggy Mode? My mom has little terrier dog named "Sweetie" so that got me thinking 'bout Therewoof names. & Anonymous said: here's a good question: If someone says a therewoof's true name, but not reffering to them, does it still affect them?

Just saying it will do! It’s based on those old werewolf stories where calling out the person’s name will change them back into a human/cure them, and a lot of the time it was by accident.

(My favorite is the one where they slam the door on the wolf’s tail and then say his name, and the dude ends up with a wolf tail for the rest of his life.)

Anonymous said: Would Seeing eye Therewoofs be a thing?

I... guess? Probably? Since regular dogs can turn into woofs, yeah. You might have to start paying em once they turn into a person tho.

Anonymous said: Was ChalkZone ever an inspiration for you? Because I just love the silly world of ChalkZone and I noticed getting that same warm feeling when thinking about Edgeworld.

Maaaan, I wish. I’ve only seen about three episodes or so, but it seems really fun!

Anonymous said: So I saw your mimic post, and even though I don't think I've seen any other of your art before I was absolutely HAMMERED with an indescribable sense of slightly unsettling strangeness and comfortable familiarity. Your art feels like something from like, an old point and click computer game I would have had formative memories of before accidentally losing or scratching the disc therefore making me unsure if it ever REALLY existed. Sorry for being weird but I love the wacky nostalgia feel here

Aaaaaah, THANK YOU! That is SUCH a cool comparison and I appreciate!!!

Anonymous said: If the Edgeworld is based on cartoons then is there a Reverse Edge-world that’s based on anime?

Lol, I mean I DID have an anime phase for a while there, so...

caydebug: Man I’d love to see this as a cartoon some day

Honestly, same. Best you’re gonna get is the occasional animatic or gif, tho.

Anonymous said: Does anyone..."go" in Edgeworld? or is it like Pleasantville where bathrooms exist but there are no toilets in them because acknowledging it is yucky?

Oh god I keep getting asked this and have been avoiding it like the damn plague. But... Uh. No. No they do not. I am begging you all not to send any followup questions.

Anonymous said: Have you considered putting computer viruses or illnesses in with the buggymen? Since those are typically called ‘bugs’

Sure!

Anonymous said: are there any limits to what an Animimic could posess? i.e if they were in a costume of a Buggieman with multiple arms, could they control all of them? what about a small Mousefly costume? can multiple fit into one costume like a clown car? and what about in pitch black darkness, where you can only see the lights of their eyes and not their bodies? could one fit inside the pocket of a jacket you are wearing and help you steal things/wield a gun like a living turret?

Since clothing fills into the body type of the intended wearer, they would indeed be able to control all arms/legs in buggieman clothes.

Size restrictions is one of these things I wanna try to be vague about: I personally have been imagining them sticking to hiding in things no smaller than, um. Maybe imp sized, but really, whatever. It’s a cartoon eyeball critter!

You can put multiple animimics in one outfit!

They can move around just fine in darkness without being off screen, yeah!

And sure why not. lol

Anonymous said: I know you have been asked this once before, and you said nah you don't, but with a few more months of worldbuilding, do you have an idea for what could be down the edge now? 🤔

Not really! It’s not super important, honestly. I’d say any fan theory is about as valid as anything else I can come up with.

ps2polpo: I doubt you’ll ever elaborate on The Edge but I like to imagine there’s just one dude there like the Nowhere Man from the Yellow Submarine movie. Mostly cause the thought of someone accidentally winding up there being like “where am I?” And there’s just a guy casually waving at him like a friendly neighbor is funny to me & Anonymous said: The implication that the Edge is the physical manifestation of edginess so there’s probably like, Trevor Henderson monsters hanging out down there.

See above question! Valid! I also accept falling forever, getting erased from existence, ending up in another universe, getting stuck in limbo with thousands of other people, whatever you want, really!

Anonymous said: " he has very few bones and weighs basically nothing, " "Fastball special" trope, but with Leo?

YEET THE NASTY MAN

Anonymous said: did you ever watch dragon tales as a kid? because george and margaret make me think of murderous zak and wheezie from that show, and i love it to bits

I did not, but I would have loved it. Definitely up my alley!

(watched Quest for Camelot a loooot, though!)

Imma go ahead and stop here! There’s more but I’ve been writing for well over an hour and I have things to do. If your question is missing I’m either saving it for later, wasn’t entirely sure how to answer, or it’s spoilery.

Will probably do another one of these at some point!

#rattytalks #asks #edgeworld

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