#should i be able to think of a better word than 'ugh' to convey my feelings? yes. can i? no.

[slowlystupendousdelusion]

So apparently at some point I vomited an essay about my Macbeth feelings and left it lingering in my drafts for months?

So I guess here are my 3am Donmar Macbeth thoughts from a few months back now that I'm going to see it again (!)

(Err spoilers)

Not to be back on my Macbeth bullshit again

And as I said before I know nothing about acting to have a nuanced take on performances but I want to talk about the set. (I also have no credentials to talk about this, but I do have a lot of feelings about it?)

I just love so many of the choices made to the extent that I'm still thinking about it a lot. Macbeth was the first Shakespeare we did at school and a large part of what appealed to me aged 10 would be the supernatural aspects, mediaeval castles and battles, and so going in this production would have been almost the opposite of what I would have thought I'd want from a Macbeth set. Or at least what 10 year old me would want. (Also i will acknowledge that it would be hard to go full throttle historical epic in such an intimate theatre anyway)

But being pared back worked so well. The costumes! Nod to the Scottishness with the kilts but still modern. The monochromes pop against the white stage, so it is the movement of the actors that you focus on. Lady Macbeth's all white costume tying in with appearance Vs reality themes (Innocent flower / serpent under't) by subverting your expectations also maybe hinting at the general less Evil slant this production has for her. I read the interview with the set designer that said her difference in clothing was supposed to reflect her being an outsider as well - Lady Macbeth being the only non-Scottish cast member in this production and the thought process being that perhaps it was this that lead her to be less wed to the idea of the social hierarchy as it was. I'm not sure I picked that up when watching, but it was really interesting to hear about this thought process.

I also loved how the music in this production was traditional, tying the play back to Scotland, which could be harder to create a sense of in such a pared back set design.

The stage itself is so simple but the white works so well esp when viewed from higher up in the theatre. It means that the silhouettes of the actors are striking, particularly with the monochrome costumes, and the kilts creating a shape. The few props that are used also end up silhouetted across the stage which is just chef's kiss. (And to think you don't even see this from the expensive seats!)

Also a good proportion of the performance the actors are in the space around the stage block rather than on it - it's used in a very versatile way - you have the porter doing his stand up routine walking around it, you have it used as a table with the characters seated around it at a feast, you have it used as a balance beam for Fleance as he walks along a wall.

Soundproof panel at the back. The way the actors can be lit up or hidden and ugh. Again this is harder to see from the side seats but gives a haunting vibe when viewed head on. This is such a clever way of getting the feeling of unease into the stage production when the supernatural aspects aren't physical.

The lighting. It feels weird to gush about the lighting. But I will continue to gush about the lighting. Just switching from warm to cool with the supernatural/psychological component works so well. It just plays such a big part in the story telling and like you're not even that conscious that it's happening? And the red light for the witches final bit where we get buffeted around Macbeth's mind with him. Gah. Such a big part of the production and yet so understated

Lady Macbeth and her candle - with so few props it makes it so much more striking when they are used! Weird thing to say: but also how great are candles as things? The way the candle light reflects off Lady Macbeth is just ugh and I know this is just how candles work but I don't think we appreciate this enough. I guess a candle stick is a different vibe from like a Yankee candle in my living room but you know.

The beautiful light pouring through Dunsinane Wood at the end onto the stage.

The blood pack and the way it flows out onto the white stage and obviously it's different each night and isn't that beautiful that each closing scene is unique because of fluid dynamics

(My only thing with this is lying supine where the blood only ends up on Macbeth's back looks really inorganic somehow even though it's obv not. But like let the man get covered in blood on his front as well. Imagine the aesthetic)

Honestly I am so curious to see how they will adapt this for a bigger theatre. The Donmar is set up pretty uniquely (it's fairly vertical in terms of seating if thats the right word? Which is quite different from all the other theatres that I can think of in London) and some of the things that worked really well for me was aided by having that height. The stage itself was used variously as a table, a stepping stone etc in this production, so the compactness of that central block is sort of necessary for example in the feast scene. If the theatre has a more trad seating plan, viewing mainly from the front with a shallower vertical height, a lot of the intimacy will be lost. I'm excited to see what solutions they will put in place to try and keep the vibes in a different setting.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Carla Maniac [06]

ー The scene starts in the saloon at Banmaden

Familiar: That is all I have to report for now. I shall continue my investigation on the Vibora Clan.

Carla: Good job. You can go now.

Familiar: Yes. 

ー The Familiar leaves

Carla: Seems like the Vibora Clan is indeed planning an attack on our Castle.

I assume they are still upset over the fact we invaded their territory. 

Shin: They’re probably even more frustrated because we managed to escape their ambush as well. 

The Vibora are really persistent, aren’t they? ...What a pain.

Yui: ...Excuse me, Carla-san?

Carla: Hm?

Yui: None of us actually trespassed their territory, did we?

Carla: Exactly. I am positive about that. 

Yui: Then how did this happen?

The Vibora didn’t simply...misunderstand the situation, did they?

Carla: We are Founders. The Vibora Clan should know better than to attack us recklessly. 

I cannot imagine it would be a simple misunderstanding. 

Yui: Then why...?

Carla: ...

*Knock knock*

Carla: Come on in.

ー Kino enters the room

Kino: Pardon the intrusion~

Carla: ーー Kino.

Kino: Hey, hey, King. I’ve heard that the Vibora has set their eyes on this Castle? 

Carla: ...News travels fast around here.

Kino: Guess so. The situation is starting to seem more and more dangerous, so what will you do? 

Carla: The opponent will come attack us. So we will obviously strike back.

Yui: Ugh...

( I mean, it has always been their plan to aim for sovereignty over the Demon World, so it only makes sense to fight but... )

( Still...I just don’t like the idea of everyone having to risk their lives... )

Kino: Well, the Ghouls are getting better at fighting with each passing day. 

And with your powers at our disposal as well, we should be able to make quick work of the Vibora.

But even so, there will be casualties, won’t there? 

Personally, I don’t want the Ghouls to go through that.

Carla: ...I see.

Kino: So, I’ve put some thought into it as well and I came up with a plan. One which will allow us to win over the Vibora, that is. 

Say, curious?

Carla: ...I can think of a way to persuade them as well. ーー You will use Yui, won’t you? 

Kino: Geez. You already know.

Yui: Eh? M-Me...? What do you mean...?

Carla: Your heart belongs to Cordelia, who was a Vibora princess.

Her father was the Demon Overlord Burai.

In other words, you are an important figure to the Vibora Clan.

Yui: Ah...

( I see. That’s how it works... )

Kino: So if we offer her to them, we won’t have to fight, right?

You want to conquer the Demon World, don’t you? In that case, I believe it’d be best to avoid any unnecessary fights. 

Alternatively, you could even fuse with the Vibora and use them to take out the Vampires or one of the other clans.

I believe that’s a highly efficient method?

Carla: No. I cannot do that.

Yui: ( Eh...? )

Kino: Heeh? ーー You’re saying that because this girl is your woman? Am I wrong?

Carla: ...

Kino: Fufu. Oh well, that’s fine. I only wanted to suggest it.

If you choose to fight, I will follow said order. See youー 

ー Kino leaves again

*Thud* 

Shin: Che...What’s with that guy’s attitude? I just can’t grow to like that guy. All he wants to do is stir up trouble, no?

Carla: ...

Yui: ...Excuse me, Carla-saーー

Carla: Don’t say anything right now.

Yui: Eh? 

Carla: No need to.

Yui: ...

Selection

→ Thank him (❦)

Yui: I understand. But let me just say this. ...Thank you very much.

Carla: ...

Yui: I’m sorry for not doing as you asked. But I wanted to at least convey my gratitude. 

Carla: ーー I do not know why you are thanking me, but I shall accept your gratitude. 

Yui: ...

( Even though he says that, I’m sure he understands. )

( You protected me ーー that is what I’m thankful for, Carla-san. )

→ I understand

Yui: Okay...

( I wanted to say a quick thank you at least. )

( Carla-san is trying to keep me safe after all... )

Monologue

Apparently the Vibora Clan is planning an attack,

on Banmaden. 

With a war lurking just around the corner, Kino-kun came with a persuasion plan, 

in which they would hand me over to the Vibora Clan. 

However, Carla-san blew it off. 

To protect me, most likely. 

I genuinely felt thankful for that.

However, by using Cordelia, the owner of my heart,

there could be a possible reconcilation (和睦) between both parties. 

In other words, it is possible,

that I could make myself useful (役に立てる) to Carla-sanーー

That idea gradually began,

to grow more and more important inside my mind. 

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[jjungkooksthighs]

Lily, I think if being a hype woman could have an award for best one, you would certainly win it. You have been so kind to me throughout my writing process and honestly, this chapter wouldn’t have been posted without your support. Part of the reason I waited so long to respond to this was because I just couldn’t find ways to express how I wanted to tell you what I felt. I doubt myself constantly, as you know, and you’ve been there time and time again to pull me back up when I’ve fallen to the point that even I don’t think there will be a way to get back up again. I wondered, ceaselessly, if I should post this chapter. I pondered, continually, how I would pick up from where I left off months ago. It hardly feels like it’s been months since my last post, but it has. How time passes so quickly- and continues to hasten even faster- baffles me. Though the hands of time have continued pushing on, you have made its passage one that is bearable. Thank you for always believing in me. I wish I could find the words to express how thankful I am for you and your warm presence that makes dark days lacking of the chill that usually finds me. I’m so happy you can find enjoyment in what I create and that I can give (even if it’s just a little) of that warmth that beams from you. Things are tough, but you are nothing if not determined to rise, just as the sun. There is so much I wish I could say and so much more I want to convey if only I knew words that were meaningful enough to show you what I wish I could share with you. You really are such a kind soul and I’m grateful that you decided to reach out to me so many months ago over the emotions that my story built up in you.

So, thank you. For so much more than your compliments here. For being here when so many others gave up on me. For sharing such detailed medical knowledge with me so that this chapter could be possible. For being so willing to listen to me when I wanted to throw you random ideas that I wasn’t even sure would ever make it to a document. For being a companion that I didn’t ever expect to find.

You deserve to have someone like the alpha in your life. Someone like Namjoon and Seokjin. It is my hope that my characters can fill those roles for you in the meantime.

I also hope you will continue to put your belief in me and that you continue to love my stories. You’re a gem. Really, you are. I’m proud to be mutuals with you!

Awww- don't make me tear up like this, girl! I'm glad I could be of support! I- shit- how do I even respond?? I'm smiling soooo freaking WIDE right now!

I absolutely LOVE talking to you and feel kind of.. proud that we're mutuals. Who would've thought that I'd be able to speak so closely with an author I've come to admire and almost.. idolize in a way? You're the sweetest little gumdrop, and I couldn't wish for anything more than utter happiness for you. UGH there's SO MUCH I wanna say, but I don't know HOW to say it-🙈🙊😭 I love you, Athanasia! 😭😭 <3

I don’t think I’m anything to admire, much less idolize. There are so many others on here that are better than I am!

Besides, your writing has grown so much over the past several months and that is so wonderful!

[sehunniepotwrites]

let’s break the ice | m.l | two

🏒  SYNOPSIS— in which your college’s hockey team crashes your lunch plans after practice and you have to get away before dying of embarrassment 🏒 GENRE— fluff, humor, crack, college!au, ice hockey!au 🏒 PAIRING— ice hockey captain!mark lee x reader 🏒 WORD COUNT— 1.5k 🏒 WARNINGS— sexual innuendos made; povs switching during the same scene; cursing 

🏒 AUTHOR’S NOTE— oh shit, does that say part two?? l m a o

y’all asked for it, so here it is! i’m turning this into a mini-series featuring random snapshots of mark with his love interest! no regular updates, the parts are just going to be randomly uploaded as we go. surprise surprise! i have a couple of moments planned already, so stay tuned! (i’m still working on the requests i have left as well as my other wips, please be patient with me!)

< prev | next >

You take that back, you absolutely hate hockey. More specifically, you hate the handsome devils that make up NCT U’s team and how they turned your meal with Jaemin and Jeno to a team dinner. 

You hate how they are relentless in their teasing and force you into a chair right next to their captain. And you absolutely despise how all eyes are on you as Mark tries to strike a conversation with you.

The group decided to forgo your original plans of eating at a Thai place, opting to visit the local diner they frequented instead. You felt sorry for the person waiting on your group; having to deal with a loudmouth team that wanted to split the check was always a struggle. They just smiled as they readied your seating, pushing several tables together to accommodate your group. They quickly took your drink orders, the others ordering milkshakes and sodas while you and Mark just asked for waters. Your friends mocked you for even getting the same drink and it just went spiraling from there.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Mark whispers under his breath, hand coming up to cover his small face. “They’re being dumb. I’ll tell them to stop.”

He’s leaning his body towards yours and you feel the team’s stares as you move to cover your mouth. “Are they like this all the time? I mean, I know Jaemin and Donghyuck are but the rest, questionable.”

He rolls his brown eyes to convey his extremely annoyed state, “They’re nosy assholes, all of them.” Mark shoots his mates a glare that’s meant to be intimidating but it’s far from that off the ice. He looks like an upset little puppy, face crinkled and eyes rounded in the cutest way. You want to pinch his cheeks but you refrain from doing so. 

“What are you two lovebirds talking about?” Donghyuck smirks from the other side of the table.

From beside him, Yangyang adds, “Yeah, share with the whole class!”

Mark groans— he can’t believe he has to deal with two loudmouths in his team. He looks to the older members: Sicheng is just silently grinning and Ten is wiggling his brows at the captain. The only one’s looking sorry for him are Jeno, the ever-so-sweet one sitting beside his boyfriend, and Sungchan, the shy new addition to the team. 

Jaemin, sitting on your right while Mark is squished on your left, laughs, “You’re not talking about being smashed by him, are you?” He’s obviously taking pleasure in your pain. You don’t think they’re ever going to let that go.

You smack him across the arm and he winces at the stinging contact, surprised by your strength. “Oh my god, stop! No one was supposed to hear that!”

“And yet, everybody did,” Yangyang says teasingly, eyes slotted and mouth upturned into a shit-eating grin. You don’t think he should be talking, you’ve seen his struggles with the person in the dinosaur mascot suit but that’s another story.

“Let’s just forget everything about that, please!” 

“I, uh, agree,” Mark says, clearing his throat. He smiles nervously at you and you return it with a shy one of your own. God, how can one person be so attractive? 

“So cuuuuute,” Donghyuck coos and the other players follow, loving the way their captain cringes at their voices. Not being able to take it anymore, you put your face in your hands as Jaemin joins in on the commotion. 

What in the world did you do to deserve this treatment, you wonder as your face heats up in your hold. You’re at the point where yanking your hair out sounds like a better time than dealing with the jokes the boys are throwing your way. You don’t know how much more of this you can take. 

You feel Mark shift in his chair. He brings his lips to your ear to ask, “Do you, uh, I don’t know, maybe, wanna get outta here?” 

His voice is low, soft, and comes off as a bit timid as he presents the question but it still sets the butterflies free in your stomach. They’re flying around, tickling you in the weirdest way but you don’t mind— it’s been a while since your heart fluttered like this.

Biting back a huge smile, your cheeks make your eyes curl into little slits as you nodded enthusiastically. “Oh my god, yes please,” you answer as you scramble for your belongings. 

Mark wastes no time, pushing his metal chair out from under the table before pulling yours out. He grabs his team jacket and slings it over his shoulder before guiding you out the door, his hand gripping tightly onto yours. The group of boys yell at you to come back and you ignore them, too busy reeling at the feeling of Mark’s hand in yours. It’s warm and inviting, the way his fingers wrap around your smaller palm. 

The cold autumn breeze hits you as soon as he opens the door and it gets worse when you’re running down the street so one of the boys can’t chase after you. You’ve made it two blocks before you stop running and that’s when Mark finally notices that he’s still holding on tightly to your hand. 

“Oh, I, um, sorry,” he mumbles as he rushes to let go. His high cheeks are turning red and it clearly shows how flustered he is.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with a giggle. 

The wind blows through the holes in your knit sweater and you shiver at the sudden cold. Ugh, why didn’t you think to bring a thicker jacket?

Mark notices and he immediately takes action. “Oh, here,” he says before taking his team jacket and draping it over your shoulders. You quickly try to tell him it’s okay and shrug it off but he insists on you wearing it, a small grin peeking out on his lips. He watches you slip your arms through the blue sleeves and pull your hands out through the orange and white lined ends.

Before you could get to it, the blond hastily zips the jacket up to the very top for you, his knuckles brushing against your chin. It leaves your heart beating wildly against your ribcage, fighting its way to come out. Mark takes a step back to admire the sight of you in his clothes— his last name embroidered on one side rests proudly against your chest and it looks damn good on you. 

“T—thanks,” you stutter, not used to being treated this way. The move was so incredibly sweet and you think it’ll live in your mind for the rest of your life, rent free, along with all the other cute things he does.

Mark’s grin widens. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” he replies, glad he’s not the one stumbling over his words for once. Maybe he’s staring at you in his jacket longer than he needs to but you don’t mind, not when he’s looking at you with shining eyes you want to get lost in. 

You don’t though, your little moment being interrupted by the loud growling of your empty stomach. Your eyes become circles and you’re suddenly burning up in his jacket. Wrapping your arms around your middle, you let out an uneasy laugh.

Mark’s bright laughter fills your ears and soon, you’re joining in too, quiet giggles shaking your body. 

He clears his throat and scrunches his nose at you. It’s an endearing look, you think, as you save the sight in your memory. “C’mon, let’s go get you some food,” he chuckles, slipping his hand into yours once again. 

Mark leads you down the street, a loose grip on your hand, and he hopes you don’t feel how clammy his palms are through your sweater paws. His eyes are darting to anything and everything but you, too scared to look you in the eye. He thinks if he spares one more look at you, he’ll combust. 

“You were gonna get some Thai food, right?” Mark asks. 

You glance at him and nod in agreement, “Yeah, there’s a place Jaemin and I usually go to. We were just gonna head there.” You tell him where it’s located and it’s a bit of a long walk. He didn’t mind though, he quite enjoyed holding your hand.

You don’t see it but Mark secretly pumps his fist when you initiate the interlocking of your fingers. The feeling of his hand in yours is so comforting, you don’t think you ever want to let go.

Peeping over at him, you catch him do the same to you at the exact same time, right down to the second. He blinks at you, eyes widened in shock and another burst of laughter bubbles through you, entertained at how ridiculously shy the both of you were. 

Seeing the university’s golden boy as fumbly as you were in this particular moment relaxes a bit of your nerves, though. Many people see the famous Mark Lee as this picture perfect student athlete but during this moment, you just see him as a boy.

You’re just a girl walking time with a boy and you think nothing else could ever beat this moment. 

© sehunniepotwrites, 2020

[soranis-sunshadow]

Looking back

@cruelfeline wanted a snippet between Hordak and Glimmer where they contemplated on how much of a fuckup either of them is.

I took it as a prompt and I hope this little oneshot scratches that itch.

It was always better to go to a banquet than to host it, Glimmer thought to herself while making her way down the long hallway of the reclusive palace wing. If she felt at odds or tired or just not in the mood, all she had to do was signal Bow and he’d take her home. But as a host, she WAS home, there was nowhere else to go to. Besides, since she was the esteemed host, she couldn’t leave early. It would be in poor taste.

This year, the anniversary of the end of the war was hosted in Bright Moon and she had to find a secluded place in her own home to take a breather from all the commotion before she had to return to the party and smile and nod and… try not to feel like such an imposter.

She finally found her favorite overlook, the one where she came to sulk whenever her mother gave her a stern -and justified- talking to, the best view and the music of the party down in the main hall was muted. No sooner did she lay her hands upon the balustrade that she spotted movement to the periphery of her vision. It was another person she really didn’t want to interact with due to the sheer awkwardness: Hordak. He was sitting by himself in contemplation, looking on into the distance in the last light of the day.

She and he stood meters apart on the balcony in silence for a while. He seemed to look at peace while staring off into the sunset. She tried to do the same. Her maelstrom of thoughts made it difficult.

During the war, she had never met him face to face, all she knew was what other people said of him – both her own and other hordesmen that were captured and interrogated.

Their first meeting in the flesh had been memorable… for very terrible, nightmare inducing reasons. Even now, she couldn’t look at Hordak without seeing Prime discard his errant tool then threaten to destroy her world in a dulcet voice as if it were the most trite of things. It probably had been to that monster…

Hordak hadn’t been what she – an everyone else thought he was. What made it even more jarring, and unexpected, had been his eagerness to repent and atone following the war.

Glimmer had decreed that Prime’s little brothers were not at fault for what they had been made to do for their creator, all of them, Hordak included. She couldn’t in good conscience persecute any of them whilst knowing, intimately – unlike the other monarchs- where they came from and what had been done to them.

Hordak however, decided to be difficult, because of course he did.

He insisted that even had his actions been in the hopes of serving Prime, they had been his actions, his mistakes. He owned them, and he owed Etheria. He had decided- by himself - to rebuild the things he had a hand in destroying not out of a desperate bid for forgiveness but because it was what he had been convinced that it was the right, and the just thing to do.

It made it very awkward for her to interact with him… whenever she invited Entrapta to these events, he was always her plus one. Entrapta was a sore spot for Glimmer. She had decided that the Dryll princess would be the first one to be invited whenever Glimmer hosted any event. It was the least she owed her.

She had learned that Entrapta endangered herself to save her back when she had been abducted on Prime’s ship… a few weeks before that, Glimmer had argued with Adora and Bow to leave her on Beast Island for the time being. It was a shame that stung deeply. Entrapta had been a far better friend to her than she had been to Entrapta. To make matters worse, Entrapta seemed either oblivious or not to hold it against her. It made Glimmer’s guilt even worse. At times, she wished Entrapta HAD been angry, she wished the other princess would give her a piece of her mind, at least then, she’d be able to make it up to her.

Huh!

No wonder Hordak “punished” himself with reparations and reconstructions…She couldn't stop a heavy sigh from escaping her. It wasn't an invitation to talk but he seemed to take it as one since the noise startled him out of his contemplation and he slowly turned towards her.

“Good evening, your grace.” It was always a bit comical when one of Prime’s clones bowed to her, they would have to bend over comically low to match her height. Hordak didn’t. He merely bowed his head smoothly and lowered his ears to convey submission.

“Uh, hey.” How dignified of her. She wished she had half as much grace as her mother had. “Uuuh,-“ he looked at her with that blank face that had been conditioned into him. ‘Ugh, say something Glimmer, this doesn’t have to be this awkward. Make an effort, for Entrapta’s sake at least!’. “- lovely sunset, right?”

He blinked slowly then turned back to the vista. “Indeed.”

‘C’mon! Give me SOMETHING to work with here!’ She thought to herself. “What do you think of the party?” That had been a host thing to ask, it was appropriate and neutral right?

It wasn’t... The answer came in that calm, low, dignified and slightly husky voice of his, a voice that had cracked from screaming and had never recovered. His posture betrayed his unease. Hordak further stiffened at the question.

“It is,-“ he paused considering his words carefully “quite sumptuous, your grace.” He bowed again. It was clearly at least as uncomfortable for him as it was for her.

This wasn’t helping… ‘Good job Glimmer!’ If it hadn’t been weird and both of them had enjoyed the companionable silence before, now she had made things awkward.

While considering what to say next, he saved her the effort by saying. “Your guests are enjoying themselves.” Was that a compliment? Was he trying to compliment her? She knew from former interactions with him that he had a very stiff and formal way of talking, very unlike his progenitor. Words fit poorly in his mouth. It was so curious how, despite having the same voice and the same face, almost… they sounded worlds apart. He held himself differently too, Prime had filled every space he was in, he owned every room he walked into. Hordak on the other hand seemed perpetually on eggshells. Was that why he was here by himself?

“You are my guest too.” She said to him, trying to sound warm and welcoming but it came out a bit defensive.

The unasked question hung between them in the dying light of the day.

He saved her from asking it once more. “My presence… makes some of your other guests uneasy, your grace. I did not wish to impose.”

“Impose? Nonsense!” She waved it off with a chuckle. “You and Entrapta are welcome here, I’ve expressly invited the both of you myself. There is no way you could ‘impose’ in any way!” Then it hit her… “Did anyone tell either of you that you were imposing? If they did, tell me who it was and I’ll have a chat with them.”

He huffed out a chuckle then turned towards her once more. A small, tentative smile made its way on his face. “No such thing your grace, the initiative was all mine.” The shared gaze was broken as he looked at his feet then back into the distance. “ I wished to prevent it from becoming an issue. Many of your kinsmen are weary of me, and for good reason. My actions on your world did not endear me to most of your kind.” It seems that guilt had brought them both on this overlook.

“I should name this ‘the shitty overlook!’ Hah!” She laughed. “Because everyone comes on this balcony to feel shitty.” He looked at her, one browridge raised in inquiry. “You’re here because of the whole conquest thing and I’m here because I’ a terrible friend.”

Glimmer continued. “We both did regrettable things during the war.” She too looked on into the distance, the line of bleeding orange light got thinner and thinner as night overtook it, a thin line of fiery hues reflected off the surface of the turbulent lake. Silence hung between them for a few minutes.

“You did what you thought was necessary, your grace.” Despite the curt tone, it was a reassurance. It was uncanny for Hordak of all people to be the one trying to comfort her.

“We both did. It still doesn’t make it feel right.” Both of their closets had skeletons cramped in them.

“It may not but, at the time, you saw no other way to do your duty.” He sighed deeply. “Hindsight is indeed, not a charitable beast your majesty, but it is unfair.” He clicked his claws on the balustrade. The motion was somewhat distracting. ” You know things now that you couldn’t have possibly known back then. Within the constraints of the time and the data available, you did the best that you could, the best that could be expected. You were a formidable opponent.” As sound as his logic was, it did little to assuage the anger she aimed at herself.

“And I had my friends take the fall for me because I thought it was necessary.” She sighed and hugged herself. “I was wrong, even back then but I didn’t want to admit it, I thought the ends justify the means. They don’t. They never do.”

“It’s easy to overthink the choices made when one is aware that there were other options, other paths that could have been taken.” He sounded, small and sad, his own demons haunting him.” The reality of it is that, in the moment, you may not have been aware of other possibilities and time had not been on your side. You decided to move forward down the only path you saw before you. The alternative would have been admitting defeat. Had you done so, you wouldn’t be here to second guess yourself. It was, in general, the right thing to do even if you are left with the consequences of your perceived momentary oversights. You have the privilege now, to make up for your mistakes – a privilege you wouldn’t have had should you have not done the things you did. “

“Thank you. I needed to hear that.” She hadn’t known she needed it nor would she had ever asked for it and that’s exactly why the point had hit home. “She was right, you’re a good listener.”

He chuckled again, an animate chuckle that rippled through him as he shook his head and turned back to look at the lake. She made her way closer and took in the familiar view. Neither of them said anything after that.

They watched the stars appear on the night sky, reflecting off the surface of the lake, somewhat distorted. The ripples of the lake made their twinkling even brighter. The night was peaceful.

[the-bau-quinjet]

And I confess, babe

Part 6 of In Breakable Heaven!

Summary: Feelings are confessed... sort of.

Warnings: none 

Word count: ~2400

“There’s something I haven’t been completely honest about.” You blurted out taking a break from cleaning. It had been a few months since Halloween, and you and Spencer have hung out whenever possible, but never calling anything a date. You had both gotten pretty busy with the holidays, but still made time. He is basically your best friend, but you want more than that. You just aren’t sure he feels the same way. 

Spencer turned from where he was reading on the couch immediately mirroring the nervous expression he could see on your face. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything. That’s what friends are for.” Ugh, friends. This is so confusing. As he walked up to you, you thought you noticed a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but you brush it off. You need to focus.

You have never told any of your friends about this. It’s almost like you were living two lives and all the sudden you wanted them to merge. Well, really you just wanted an excuse to sing love songs to the man standing in front of you without completely freaking him out. “You know how much I love Taylor Swift, right?” You could see the confusion growing on his face 

“Um, yeah. That’s not exactly a secret…” he chuckles as he searches for the truth in your eyes. 

“Well, um... I kind of... well… it’s not really a big deal, but I… you see…”

 “Y/N, just tell me. I promise not to freak out.” He interrupted, the confusion evident on his face.

“Okay, just… I’m inaTaylorSwiftcoverband…” You blurt, the words rushing from your mouth. You cover your face with your hands. Of course, boy genius understood the mess of a sentence you just said, realization slowly dawning on him.

 “Y/N, why were you so nervous to tell me?” He sounded shocked. “You know I would support you no matter what. When’s your next show? I would love to go see you perform.” The sincerity in his voice made tears well up in your eyes. 

You rushed to hug him as you said “I don’t know why I was so nervous. I guess people can be really harsh when you are a Taylor Swift fan. Nobody takes you seriously, ya know? I started the band because her music made me better at conveying my emotions. It was actually a kind of therapy for me at first, but then I fell in love with performing. I actually wanted to tell you so I could invite you, and the rest of the team, to my next show. It’s Saturday night.”

 He ran his hands up and down your back before pulling away to look you in the eyes. “I will be there.” He said, matter-of-factly. 

“Yay!” You were practically jumping with joy that the conversation went well. It felt kind of stupid to be so worried over other people’s perception of your music interests, but you’ve always been self-conscious of being the “weird” girl. It made even the smallest decision so hard for you. “I want you to invite the rest of the team, but keep it a surprise. I haven’t told Penelope, and I’ve known her 2 years longer than you.” He laughed as you realized how comfortable you must have felt with Spencer to be inviting him and his friends to see you perform. Usually the only way you made it through was knowing there was nobody in the audience that would recognize you enough to make fun of you. But, it was time for a change. You have always been proud of your accomplishments, and the people you called your friends should be a part of that.

 “You should know there’s always a theme to the show. I like to tell a story with her songs, pulling from all the albums helps make it more cohesive.” You wanted him to be a little bit prepared for what you had planned. 

“What’s the story for this show?” Spencer asked, curiosity brewing in his mind. 

“Well Doc, I’m afraid that’s a secret. You’ll have to wait and see.” Spencer kept pestering you to find out the theme, but you refused to tell him. Finally, he returned to reading as you cleaned the rest of your apartment.

--

 Saturday came much faster than you were expecting. The nerves you felt kept growing as you tried to finalize the set list you would be performing in just a few hours. The stories you usually tell don’t normally rely so heavily on your own life experiences. But, that’s why you fell in love with Taylor’s music in the first place. The songs are so relatable. It’s incredible how well she can convey emotions and stories with her lyrics. Plus, this is your chance to tell Spencer how you feel without having too much pressure. If he doesn’t say anything about the obvious theme, you could just pretend you made up the story for the audience. It would be fine. No pressure at all.

 The hours until your show drifted away as you got ready and arrived at the venue. You were actually playing in an auditorium instead of a bar for the first time in a few months. The night had been heavily marketed for couples since Valentine’s day is next week, but you knew your friends would all be there to support you. Going over the set list with the band, they knew exactly what mood you were going for. It was clear there were three sections to the night: 1) the break up, drawing heavily on your experience with Drew, 2) moving on from the failed relationship as you form a new crush, possibly on an incredibly hot doctor, and 3) where you wanted this new relationship to go. That storyline is what made the marketing so good. Couples could come and just be in love, relating the music to their own lives. Plus, people were itching for something to do since no real artists were touring in DC right now.

 You glance out at the audience as the lights flicker, indicating only a few minutes until show time. You find Spencer and the rest of the crew, barring Hotch and Rossi, easily as you put them in the front row. You wanted to be able to see their faces, or completely look over their heads. It all depends on the expression of the one and only Spencer Reid.

 “Hello, and welcome to the show!” You try to hide the nerves. You’ve done this plenty of times, but knowing who is in the audience is taking a toll. “In case you didn’t know, with every show I do, I try to tell a story. Usually, it is based on a movie or a book, but today I am trying something a little bit new. No book, no movie, just a story. It’s got three parts to it. Part one sucks.” You laugh along with the audience. “It’s about a breakup and learning to move on. So let’s get started!”

 You immediately jump into the first song Babe. Technically it features Taylor Swift, but she wrote it so it counts. Plus, it is the perfect song to describe your feelings to finding Drew cheating on you, and she did write it.

 This is the last time I’ll ever call you Babe.

 “Now, I know how hard it can be to get over someone who you’ve been with a long time. Especially when combined with the pain of them cheating on you. This next song describes that mentality of recognizing that someone won’t change because you want them to. Sometimes, the best thing to do is cry and scream and move on.” The instrumental to You’re Not Sorry begins to play as you calm you’re nerves.

 This is the last straw. Don’t wanna hurt anymore. And you can tell me that you’re sorry, but I don’t believe you baby like I did before. You’re not sorry. No, no, no no.

 “I know, I know. No more sad songs! After you break up with someone, it can be pretty hard to not miss what you had. But eventually, you’ll get to a point where when they call you in the middle of the night, all you have to say is We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. Like ever.”

 You make it through the next song without a hitch. The crowd is clearly enjoying the show, which is actually helping with your nerves. You’ve glanced at your friends a few times, but nothing that lingers. You’re not quite mentally prepared to look at Spencer yet.

 “With every breakup, there is some amount of time afterward where you can’t help but think about them. No matter how badly it ended, there is at least a day. It could slowly fade out or it could just disappear one day, like magic. Either way, this song is how I personally feel once that window of time ends.”

 I forgot that you existed. It isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it‘s just indifference.

 This song really helped turn the mood around. Everybody is dancing and singing, clearly enjoying themselves. As the song ends, your nerves return a bit. This is the scary part.

 “And with that, we move on to part 2! As the saying goes, the best way to get over him is to get under someone else. Well, that’s not exactly where this is going, but it follows the same general logic.” The instrumental to Enchanted has already started as you finish the intro “Meeting someone who helps take your mind off the bad by making new memories.”

 All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you. This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go. I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home.

 This is the first song you are singing directly to Spencer, even if you can’t even look at him. You glance at every other member of the BAU, but you just can’t bring yourself to admit it to him. Not yet.

 Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.

 You can feel the sting in your throat that comes from thinking of Spencer being with someone else, finally making you look at him. He seems happy. He’s not dancing as much as everyone else, but he is swaying. You count it as a win.

 “Now, I’m not saying the only way to get over a breakup is a new relationship. Sometimes, you just need a friend.” You clear your throat to go right into the next song.

 Wanna hang out? Yeah, sounds like fun. Video games, you pass me a note. Sleeping in tents. It’s nice to have a friend.

 This is where it’s supposed to be obvious who you are singing to. None of your newly formed friends really know the extent of your relationship with Spencer. But, you’ve convinced him to try a lot of new things. It started small, with hiking, but eventually you got him to agree to a short camping trip over a long weekend. It was freezing since it was November, but you just cuddled together around the fire. That is what makes this so nerve wracking. You are terrified of messing up your friendship.

 “Friends are the best resource post breakup. They always know how to put a smile on my face, no matter what I’m upset about. You could go so far as to say I’m Only Me When I’m With You.” You laugh at the corny joke, knowing that’s the next song you’re singing. “To be completely honest, this is kind of a story of the past few months of my life. I had a pretty bad breakup, but I met some new friends who really helped me through it. It’s nice to be completely honest about yourself with someone else.”

 I don’t try to hide my tears, my secrets, or my deepest fears. And through it all, nobody gets me like you do.

 “Now, we move onto the third and final part of the show. We’ve covered the past and the present, so all that’s left is the future! The future is unknown, which is kinda of scary when you think about it. So, it can really help to have someone who makes you feel Fearless.” So many lyrics make you want to stare at Spencer.

 I wanna ask you dance right there, in the middle of the parking lot.

-

Run your hands through your hair, absentmindedly making me want you.

-

And I don’t know why, but with you I’d dance in a storm in my best dress, fearless.

-

You’ve decided against looking at Spencer and the rest of the profilers. If you make eye contact you know they would 100% be able to see right through you. Just two more songs to get through. You don’t even pause to talk before the next song is playing.

 Cause all I know is you said, “Hello” and your eyes look like coming home.

 You’ve spent so long thinking about Spencer and his perfect freaking eyes that you subconsciously glance at him right then. The second you realize, you look away again, missing the look of complete adoration on his face.

 And meet me there tonight and let me know that it’s not all in my mind.

 “Alrighty folks, I’ve got one more song for you. You probably could’ve guessed it by now, part 3 is about a future relationship, one I’m not currently in. But that’s the thing about the future, you never really know what it holds.” This is where shit goes a little bit sideways. You didn’t plan on changing the lyrics. Most of the profilers seem to miss it, not recognizing that you switched one very crucial word in the song. The one profiler that notices the mistake has spent the last four months listening to every Taylor Swift song ever written because he’s spent so much time with you, and you are always listening to something.

 Dark jeans and your converse, look at you. Oh damn, never seen that color blue.

 Oh damn is right. You somehow manage to make it through the rest of the song, but now Spencer knows you were singing to him. You can’t decide if you’re glad it’s out there or if you are going to puke the second you run off stage.

 “Delicate is about the beginnings of a romance. It’s that point where you are scared any sudden movements will shatter everything you’ve built so far.” You take one final deep breathe. “It’s about admitting your feelings because you can’t move forward without taking the next step. That’s what the future is all about. Thank you all for coming, goodnight!” And with that, you left.

 tag list:

@mac99martin​ @goldeng1rl8​ @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean @awkwardnesshabitat @loveheathens @fan-girl-97

[shoichee]

Hello! Can I perhaps ask for no. 28. “Make me” from your prompt list for my beloved Imayoshi? It's so nice seeing him here on your theme and avatar and that pERFECT url, it feels like I finally found my people.

HELLO HELLO, and YES I WAS SO SURPRISED THAT NO ONE TOOK THIS URL... considering that it was just an alternative spelling of shoichi and its a rlly short handle too mwehe // im sort of a particular person when it comes to how something looks, whether itd be outfits, drawings, coloring, and the UI of a blog, u name it.... i may have spent hours trying to have the perfect colors for this theme PLEASEEEE, but without further ado here is our man, our little shit, Imayoshi

@knb-kreations howdy! another new work posted here!

Imayoshi x Reader

28. “Make me”

Word Count: 2331

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

Imayoshi doesn’t exactly know how he feels about you.

Scratch that, he does know. He’s quite amused at the shenanigans you pull on others around you, and a lot of times, you actually elicit a few dry laughs out of the guy. Other times though, he’d wish that you would just shut the fuck up, especially when all he hears amidst his studying was your loud “whispering” and “hushed” jokes. How you were always nearby no matter where he is was still a mystery that he casually ponders about from time to time. Perhaps your natural tendency to project your voice creates the illusion that you were near when you really weren’t?

No matter, such trivial thoughts can’t occupy his mind when college entrance exams loom closer. Then again, they weren’t particularly difficult; they were simply a hassle to secure near-perfect scores, especially when his chances of admittance rely critically on how well he does.

“That’s an awful drawing of a samurai,” Susa comments, snapping Imayoshi out of idle thought.

“Ho? Is it really terrible if you were able to tell what it is?” Imayoshi chuckles. “The point of a drawing is to convey the right idea or emotion. It seems that my drawing skills hit a bulls-eye with this sketch, no?” He playfully spins his pencil around, patiently waiting for his reply to goad him.

All Susa does in response is to roll his eyes before he turns his full attention back to his notes. He knows better than to try a comeback against Imayoshi, who can easily make it backfire against the person with a pleasant close-eyed smile. Imayoshi, seeing Susa’s nonverbal resign from engaging further banter, also looks down back to his book of scribbled notes and chicken-scratch drawings before he exhales an inaudible sigh.

School just doesn’t cut out to be mentally stimulating for him. It’s a little too repetitive and mundane for his taste.

“Argh!! Oh no!” your voice rang out, despite your poor attempt to be reasonably quiet. “I forgot applications for the Coca-Cola scholarship are due today!”

Coca-Cola… what?

Everyone looks up to warily eye you, and your few friends, who are currently rushing to pull you down and slap their hands over your mouth to mute you, were panicking at the new attention you managed to garner. Even still, your mind seems more fixated on whatever was on the laptop’s screen, rather than what they were doing to you.

Imayoshi can’t help but stifle his audible mirth from how you manage to change the mood of the entire library within seconds.

“How do you even forget something as important as a huge scholarship like that?” Susa says in dismay. “Makes me kind of wonder how (l/n) would handle life after graduation, to be honest.”

“Well,” Imayoshi begins. “I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s best not to underestimate (l/n)-san. Surely we’ve learned our lesson with Seirin?” He toys with the pencil grip before he sporadically draws some lines loosely resembling another sketch.

“Drawing again?” Susa raises a brow. “Have you even been studying?”

“Well,” he replies. “There’s still plenty of time before exams—months to be exact. Could you even study with the current distractions in here?” At his own words, he nudges his chin in your direction.

“It’s not just any exams though, it’s—”

“Whether they have more importance or not doesn’t really concern me. After all, standardized testing isn’t worth stressing out for when we’ve taken essentially the same thing all our lives.”

“What most are worried about is the content inside the exams, Imayoshi,” he said, carefully treading into dangerous waters with Imayoshi’s tendency to take all replies as mind-game challenges for his own amusement.

“‘If you have been paying attention consistently throughout the year, you wouldn’t be having much trouble…’ that’s what you once oh-so-wisely said to Wakamatsu yesterday, hmm?” His mimicking tone drips a hint of arrogance. “Unless you mean to tell me my ears do not work? But by all means, please feel free to correct me.”

“That’s different,” he sighed, his face clearly evident that he was done with Imayoshi’s shit. “That exam only tested content for the past year, not your entire academic repertoire over the courses of middle and high school.”

“I’d like to think that the logic still applies the same way.”

“Well,” Susa heaves with a languid stretch. “You generally score better on the exams than me, so you’re probably right. Still, don’t neglect your studying.”

“Right, right, Susa-senpai~”

“... Please don’t call me that again.”

“... If you say so,” he said, but his smile blatantly showed his real intentions of never stopping his irritable quips. Susa gets ready to pack up his book bag before he heads out the door with a friendly wave. Imayoshi half-heartedly returns the gesture with a casual wave of his own. He immediately notices you also packed up and about to leave with a worried frown, and of course, while audibly mumbling your concerns and makeshift schedules to accommodate time for last-minute essay writing. By now, all of your friends have left for home.

“Ah, biology lab due next week, kanji worksheets due tomorrow, hmm, um, how would I finish this on time… ah, calculus test is tomorrow too, ah shit… should I ask someone to tutor?—ah, but it’s super last minute, and there’s still that scholarship… argh, fuck!” Your voice peaked in volume at the end, and the librarian immediately shot daggers at you.

“Shhhhh!”

“A-Ah! S-Sorry, sorry!”

Imayoshi was watching you with his chin on his arm propped up on the desk, unable to control the smile that escaped his lips. You really were entertaining to watch, and you never cease to bore him.

He turns away to crack his neck and roll it around before methodically packing up his writing utensils and notebooks. Soft shuffling filled the air as he rearranged the items inside his bag. As he turns to pack the last thing on the table, which happened to be the notebook filled with his idle doodling, his face slightly softens at the drawing he did after the samurai. Yes, the one Susa chastised him for when he could’ve been studying. Yes, perhaps he was right when he was terrible at drawing after all; your panicked face and wild hand gestures didn’t really translate well into paper, and it looked a little too much like a horror comic and less than a sketch of you. Still, he’s oddly proud of it.

Imayoshi promptly pushes the chair in and leaves the library, but when he rounds the corner of the adjacent hallway, he bumps into you.

“Er—hi! I mean, please, uhhh… if it isn’t too much to ask—canyoupleasetutormeforthecalculustesttomorrowbecausemyfinalgradedependsonthat?”

Imayoshi winces at the sheer volume of your voice and plugs his ears in out of habit to block out some of the decibels. Wakamatsu was eerily similar to you in that regard. Only difference between the two of you was that you were deceptively intelligent. Extremely so.

“My, my, if it isn’t (l/n)-senpai!” He fakes a surprised look, earning him an eye roll on your end. “You need someone like me to teach you the works?”

“I—what? We’re literally in the same calc class, Imayoshi,” you retort. “Besides, drop the ‘senpai’ honorific. It feels so slimy when you say it so disingenuously… Aren’t we both 3rd years too?”

“I’m so hurt,” he mocks. “What if I was really genuine with you?”

“Look, right now, no remarks from you, Evil Glasses,” you say. “It’s really, really urgent and I don’t know how to grasp the material for the class lately, plus my essay, ugh…” You rub your fingers against your temples in an attempt to make the stressful headaches disappear while Imayoshi simply watches with his eyes slightly open.

“... You usually do well on all your exams, no? Unless my eyes and memory fail me.” It was true; even though you were as loud-mouthed as Wakamatsu, you would often shock a lot of people when your name always appeared in the higher percentiles of exam results. Apparently most students and teachers associate your rowdy personality with an expected subpar academic performance. He has you to thank for when your score reports always cause reactions of utter disbelief from the teachers. You really do liven up the school and make it a lot more unorthodox.

“I guess…” you mumble. “But I really wanna do especially well for this one because math is my weakest subject, and you always score the highest for these types of exams, so…”

“It may be my best subject,” he says, leaning slightly closer to your face. “But I’m not the one with the highest scores in any math subjects throughout these years, and we both know that quite well, don’t we, (l/n)? Why don’t you come clean about the real reason why you’re here?”

“Oh my literal fuck—Imayoshi, you’re one of the best students in calc right now regardless of exam results,” you petulantly huffed, not backing down from his intimidation. Imayoshi notes your cheeks reddening, and he figured it was either because of the close proximity between your faces or the fact you were frustrated… perhaps both. “And you’re the only one around here on campus who I could ask!”

“Really now,” he chimes, moving closer to whisper in your ear. “Are you sure?” With incoherent stammers, you backed away from him, slapping your hands against both of your ears to protect them.

“W-W-What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Looks like I won this one, (l/n)-san,” he purrs, relishing the fact that only he could render you this quiet. “Ho? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“I—Shut up!” you lamely shoot back. “You can just say no if you really don’t wanna do this—urgh, I’m leaving, I’m not gonna waste any more time—”

“How hurtful,” he dryly remarks, standing up straight again after leaning for a quite a while. “It’s almost as if you’re rejecting me~” He knew you would always take his bait and quip back (unlike Susa), regardless of whether or not you tell him that you weren’t going to engage further.

“As if,” you snorted, making another exaggerated eye roll. “You’re the last person who would ever be hurt from this.”

“Dear me!” he exclaims. “Have you ever considered that perhaps I don’t help out people for free? Did you think I would be a gracious, selfless person who would help you like a saint?”

“Okay, fine! Perhaps I didn’t think that far ahead, okay? You just were the first person that came to mind, and I thought asking you wouldn’t hurt.” His smirk widens almost maliciously at your words, lips already opening to deliver another irritating quip before you immediately spoke again to stop him. “Okay, Imayoshi, you little shit, just shut up—I don’t wanna hear anything from your mouth right now.”

“I don’t see any reason why I should listen to you at all,” he muses. “Why don’t you make me?” He has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, eagerly eyeing your next move, and as he expected, you let out a frustrated noise that prompted passerby students to shoot pointed looks towards the both of you.

What he didn’t expect was for you to take a huge step towards him, unceremoniously pull him down to your level, and press a reverberating smack on his lips. His eyes are immediately blown wide open to look at your embarrassed, but determined face. His fingers unconsciously move to touch his warmed lips.

“... That was quite romantic, wasn’t it, (l/n)?” he dryly says, recovering almost immediately from the shock. All the other students fled from the blatantly bold scene to save face. Not that Imayoshi really cared.

“Okay, you know what? Bye, I’m not gonna play anymore mind games with you,” you grumble. “Essays and studying aren’t gonna be done by themselves—wah!”

Imayoshi gently tugs you back to reciprocate back a kiss, meticulously slipping his hands behind your head and on your waist to accommodate you. Your eyes are completely open from the shock that the Imayoshi Shoichi was actually kissing you. You don’t close your eyes from the sensation, completely entranced when you make eye contact with his half-lidded eyes watching your every reaction closely. The kiss ended all too soon, and Imayoshi separates himself from you, secretly admiring your dazed look.

“That was quite a strong reaction to just a simple kiss.”

“I—that was not just a ‘simple kiss!’”

“Now would you like to tell me the true reason why you approached me?”

“You’re… insinuating that you know something.”

“Well we wouldn’t know unless you come clean,” Imayoshi purrs. “I can sometimes be wrong too.”

“Ugh, what the hell—fine, I am quite enamored by you, and uh, I… find it infuriating to be with you, but it also gives me butterflies… so I thought I could be with you more… if I asked you—don’t get it twisted, though! I still need your help to study!...” He covers his mouth to suppress a laugh at your honesty.

“Was it really so hard to say that in the beginning, (l/n)-san?”

“Okay, that’s it! I’m really, really leaving! Fuck off, Imayoshi, I swear to—”

“Ho? Just a minute, darling~” he tuts, reaching to hold your hand. “Perhaps if you offer more kisses as an incentive, I’d be more inclined to offer my expertise.”

“How quaint,” you dryly reply. “It’s almost as if we’re in a relationship.”

Imayoshi can’t help but bark out a genuine laugh. You even managed to pick up some of his mannerisms so quickly.

“That’s an interesting proposal, (l/n),” he murmurs. “Should we try that?” You tut at him irritatedly as you tug your interlocked hands while speed-walking ahead.

“Hurry up, or I’ll consider breaking up with you right now.”

“Ah ha!~” he chuckles at your attitude. “How mean, (l/n)-san! Too bad that we both know that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

[mentally-in-northern-italy]

The Best Potioneer (pt. 2) — Harry Potter x reader

***not my gif***

(pt. 1 can be found here)

Summary: You despise Harry. Your Slytherin friends seem to have strong opinions of him already, but during your sixth year, you also seem to have found a reason to absolutely hate the boy. But when you’re forced to work on an assignment together and stay up all night, is it possible for those feelings to change?

Word Count: ~3.4 K

A/N: Part 2 is finally here! I’m so sorry for the delay, school is really being a pain right now. Thank you for all the love you guys gave pt. 1, and I hope you like pt. 2, which will be the last part (unless I get inspired to write another one or something)! This one is very different from anything I’ve written before, and you’ll see what I mean when you read lol. Very dialogue-heavy. Enjoy!!

Another reminder: Thank you to everyone who sent in requests! I really, really appreciate it! But, since school has started, requests will most likely be delayed, as I will only be able to work on them when I have the time to. They are still open, though, so feel free, but please be aware that they will probably take a while. Thanks!

____________________

“This,” you observed, utterly unimpressed, “is just a wall. Do you need your glasses checked, Potter?” 

You had shown up to the seventh floor with your bag and all your books, as promised. Harry had already been there waiting for you, leaning on a wall. He saw you approaching and had led you down the hallway, without exchanging any words. He stopped in the middle to face a bare wall, which earned him a scoff from you.

“Just wait,” he told you as he closed his eyes and visualized exactly what he wanted in the room.

“What are you doing?” you question as you walk from your spot behind him to stand beside him, “If we get caught--”

“We won’t,” he told you impatiently, “Now, please let me focus.”

You shut yourself up despite all the questions that were fighting to make their way out of your mouth. You tapped your foot impatiently, not exactly sure what was supposed to be happening. 

Before you knew it, the wall that you could’ve sworn that had been there previously, had turned into a door. The door didn’t exactly look inviting, holding a similar appeal that an old Victorian library would hold. 

“Come on,” Harry turned to you and gestured to you to go in, “You first.”

You would’ve scoffed at this, except you were incredibly stunned. How hadn’t you known about this room before? You took a tentative step forward and reached for the handle, turning back to Harry to check for confirmation. He nodded once.

You opened the door. It creaked slightly as you took a step inside. A small gasp escaped your lips.

“The room of requirement!” Realization set in for you as you looked around, “I’ve heard about this.”

The room was grand. That was the only way to describe it. It was dimly lit, stacked with books on old bookshelves that looked like they would collapse at any second. At the bottom of the bookshelves were cupboards, that seemed to contain even the rarest of ingredients. In the middle of it all, there was a large wooden table with two chairs on one side. Right beside it, was a rug that looked old and inviting, like something that belonged to an elderly grandma. This was exactly what you needed.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he followed in behind you and shut the door, “I came across it last year when we had our DA meetings.”

“DA?” you turned to face him, turning your back to the large wooden table. 

“Oh, uh, Dumbledore’s Army.” 

“Right,” you nodded as you turned around again, looking at the bookshelves and cabinets filled with Potions ingredients lining the walls, “No Slytherins were allowed, I presume?” You mocked.

“Well,” Harry tried to diffuse the tension, “I don’t know about all Slytherins… but you definitely wouldn’t be allowed.” He teased lightly.

“Oh, sod off,” you told him as you rolled your eyes. You struggled to fight the smile that was threatening to break upon your lips. Your friends hadn’t mentioned Harry would be able to make you smile so easily. Or that he would let you, a Slytherin into a room that was a designated meeting spot for Harry and his friends last year. Now that you’ve come to think of it, they didn’t mention a lot of things about Harry. 

When it really came down to it, you realized in that moment that you had never really had a casual conversation with Harry. Your conversations were always filled with a competitive need to embarrass the other; there was no room for casual teasing. However, now, standing in this room with Harry behind you, you couldn’t say that you minded his presence, exactly. Like you had expected to. 

You couldn’t help but ask yourself, is he really that bad? 

___________________

[1:34 AM]

“Slughorn,” you decided as you sighed, “sucks.”

You and Harry were both seated at the table, sitting with your bodies slightly positioned towards each other. You were both hunched over various copies of Potions textbooks, searching desperately for any information about Memory Potions.

“Like Snape was any better,” Harry muttered distractedly, barely glancing up, as he flipped through a copy of The Art of Potion-Making, 6th edition.

“He was!” you defended him, straightening your posture and looking up at Harry’s face. Your eyes instantly landed on the tongue that he was sticking out slightly, concentrating on writing something down that he had found in the book. The way he was squinting his eyes, despite him wearing glasses. Ugh. No. Stop it!, you told yourself. You snapped your eyes back down to your textbook, “Er--, yes, Snape! He might have been a git, but at least he was a practical git. He would never give us an assignment like this.”

“He hated me,” Harry told you as he looked up from his book. He shuddered involuntarily being reminded of all the Potions classes he had to suffer while Snape was Potions Master.

“Well,” you looked up again, smirking slightly, “some would argue he sort of had the right idea with that.” 

Harry sent you a look at which you chuckled slightly. The chuckle was soft, light-hearted. He had never heard you laugh like that. Oddly for Harry, he didn’t seem to mind the insult like he normally always does. On the contrary, he rather liked the sound. He didn’t know what this foreign feeling inside his chest was-- this feeling that seemed to only grow when he caught a glimpse of your hair falling onto your face as you scanned multiple textbooks at once, but he did know that he wanted to hear the sound of your laugh again.

________________

[2:06 AM]

You yawned as you pushed yourself onto your elbows. You and Harry were now situated on the rug, with you laying on your stomach, continuing your research and Harry sitting up-right trying to keep his eyes open as he, too, tried to write down all the ingredients he had managed to find in one of the textbooks. 

Books were sprawled all around you. You reached to grab a copy of Advanced Potions, when you realized the closest one was actually Harry’s. 

“Merlin, what’d you do to this thing?” you questioned as you turned the tattered book over to examine it, “Throw it down the Grand Staircase?” 

“[Y/N], give it--” Harry had looked unusually alarmed when he caught sight of you inspecting the Potions book that was the secret to his success this year. He reached his hand out to take it from your hands but he was too late, as you had already opened the cover to find “Property of the Half-Blood Prince” scrawled neatly inside. 

You looked up at Harry and then back down again. The look on Harry’s face was priceless. 

You couldn’t help but start to laugh. Your quiet laughter soon grew loud and obnoxious as you sat up. The room echoed with your laugh, and it would seem, so did Harry’s heart. 

“The Half-Blood Prince?” you choked out, in between laughs, “Out of all the nicknames you’ve been given, you choose that one to write in your books?” Your stomach was aching slightly and your cheekbones hurt but your laughter didn’t falter. You clutched your stomach, as you continued to holler.

Harry’s face was flushed red. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be relieved or embarrassed. Or both. 

“No--” Harry stuttered as he tried to talk over your giggles that wouldn’t seem to stop, “No, I didn’t write that!”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, “Did one of the girls in your fanclub write it, then?” 

“I mean,” Harry scratched the back of his neck. He was sure now that he should be embarrassed, “I would assume so.”

This only made you laugh more.

Not that Harry minded, though.

________________

[2:59 AM]

Harry wanted to talk to you. 

He was sitting a few feet away from you. You two were still situated on the rug, both sitting up-right now. Both of you were starting to get tired, as you stifled yawns while consistently pouring over material that never seemed to end. You and Harry had both taken your ties off and thrown them on the floor. Your robes were tossed on the floor, in a manner that would convey a very different message as to what you two were doing than what you two were actually doing, had someone walked into the room. 

Harry had tried to call you over for help multiple times now. Only so he could talk to you, so be it if it was only about the quantity of stewed mandrakes that would be required for the recipe. 

But each time, you had given him a response and moved back to your spot, returning to your quiet study of textbooks. 

Harry audibly sighed, hoping to get your attention, even if it was only an annoyed glance in his direction. 

“What is it now, Scarhead?” you asked through a yawn. You were tired, so incredibly tired. But it seemed that whenever Harry looked at you, you seemed to wake up a little. 

“I didn’t say anything,” he tried to play it cool. That’s what he was supposed to do, right? 

“Oh,” you yawned again, to which Harry yawned back, “my bad, Oh Chosen One, I sincerely apologize.” 

“Are you really going to use up all the names in one night?” He tried not to smile.

You did nothing to conceal your smile, making Harry’s smile appear on his face as well. You scooched over until you were sitting right beside him. 

“Not if I can help it,” you turned to face him, abandoning your textbooks, “Tell me Half-Blood Prince, are there any other names you go by?”

“Well, there is one,” Harry pretended to be in deep thought. 

“Really?” you asked, with exaggerated excitement in your eyes. You tried to tell yourself that this was purely because of your entertainment. It was to tease him. To belittle him. He was your rival, after all. Your mind forcibly pushed out the ridiculous notion that you were only teasing him with these names now because you found it endearing how he blushed slightly, or how, in some rare occasions, he would retort back. That was definitely not it. 

“Yeah.” his breath hitched in his throat as he saw the look in your eyes. Has she always looked like that?

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “what is it? The Four-Eyed Seeker? The Serpent Slayer?” You teased. 

“Actually,” he smirked a little, “some people like to call me ‘that one guy who was able to brew a draught of living death perfectly and beat [Y/N]’.” 

Your teasing composure dropped and you shot Harry an angry look. Without thinking twice, you raised your hand to flick Harry on the forehead.

“Ow!” he cried out, clutching his head more in surprise than in pain. You had made sure not to hurt him. 

“You can add that to your scar collection, Potter.” 

 At this, Harry also raised his hand to flick you softly on the forehead. It felt more like a tap on the head than a flick, but you flinched regardless. 

“Now, we can have matching ones…?” he joked weakly. 

It was as if time had stopped for a while, with both of you staring at each other. You, in shock, and Harry in something that could only be described as embarrassed nervousness. All you could think was, What an absolute dork! Is he really the guy that Voldemort is hell-bent on defeating? 

Meanwhile, Harry wanted to climb into a hole and die, because he could not believe he had just said that. 

You wanted to be mad at him. You wanted to be furious. But your anger died down instantly after one glance at his nervous and crooked smile. Frankly, his weak attempt at getting you back was too dorky to be mad at. But you would never admit that. 

You huffed in exaggerated annoyance and picked your textbook back up again. Only, you stayed sitting beside him on the rug. You both returned to reading as your arms kept brushing against one another’s comfortably, making you both tingly, causing you two to look at each other from time to time. Harry would shoot you a smile, and you would try your very hardest to scowl at him. 

Harry could see through it, though. 

Comfortable silence ensued, filled with the faint sound of turning pages and two hearts beating, simultaneously. 

_______________

[3:25 AM]

Your eyes drooped closed as you managed to snap them back open yet again. It had been a long night, for sure, and you and Harry were nowhere near being done. 

“Did we really have to do this tonight?” Harry muttered, a little irritated. He had Quidditch tomorrow. He needed his sleep. He rested his head in his hands, as he leaned over the table with his elbows on it. You were sitting beside him in a similar position as you massaged the temples of your head that were starting ache.

“Yes,” you muttered back, “how many times do I have to tell you? We would’ve lost if we hadn’t.”

“Of course,” he groaned with fatigue. 

“You know,” you turn to look at him, “this is a group project. Stop acting like I’m doing this for myself.”

“I never said that,” he replied, “Just-- It’s just that we’re nowhere close to being done.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly. He needed to be well-rested to properly argue with you.

“We just need to find the antidote to the crushed sea worms,” you tried to recall, “It’ll balance the potion out. And then, we can start brewing.”

“I’m taking a break, [Y/N], wake me up in five minutes?” Harry asked you as he slurred some of his words, being overcome with sleep. Without waiting for a response, he rested his head on the table and closed his eyes.

“Fine. Only five minutes!” 

_________________

[3:33 AM]

It had been a little more than five minutes. You knew this.

Yet, you didn’t have the heart to wake him up. He looked so peaceful, with his mouth slightly open and his glasses pressed up against the side of his face and the table.

You hesitantly extended your hand to gently take his glasses off. He stirred a little in his sleep and scratched his face softly, but much to your relief, didn’t wake up. You set his glasses down carefully on the table and tried to return back to your work when you heard a sound.

Snoring. Harry had already started to snore. 

They weren’t loud snores. They were soft, gentle. You couldn’t help but smile a little as you looked at the boy snoozing beside you. 

Perhaps you were too tired to think deeper, or maybe you just knew the answer already, but you didn’t even bother to ask yourself why you were acting this way. Why weren’t you annoyed by the snores? Why hadn’t you woken him up? For Merlin’s sake, what was with all that smiling? 

And most importantly, why were you enjoying working on this blasted project with your arch-nemesis Harry Potter?

________________

The first rays of sunshine poured through the small windows that were lined against the walls, illuminating everything that had previously been dim and hard to see. 

Under normal circumstances, this morning would’ve seemed peaceful. Almost ethereal, even. 

But as your eyes fluttered open and took in the scene that seemed to appear in front of them, the only thing that you felt was panic. 

Your head was resting on the table, with your nose only millimetres away from Harry’s. If you had moved only a fraction of a millimetre, your nose would’ve brushed against his. 

Before you had the chance to properly be flustered by this, reality set in. 

“Harry!” You practically screamed, “Wake up, Harry!” You sat up in your seat with a jolt and tried to shake Harry awake. 

Harry stirred slightly, and furrowed his brows, but didn’t wake up.

“I swear, Potter, if you don’t wake up, right now!” You shouted again. 

This seemed to work, for as soon as Harry’s eyes opened, his face also contorted into a panicked expression that was similar to yours. You two had overslept, and missed breakfast. Not only would this raise suspicion among your peers, but if you didn’t hurry, you would miss your first-period Potions class, consequently losing the competition. 

“Did you brew the potion?” Harry questioned hastily, as he attempted to smooth his messy morning hair and rush to pack up the scattered books and papers, “Why didn’t you wake me up!”

“Luckily for you, I did!” You replied just as hastily, looking around frantically for your bag and books, “Come on, hurry up!”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Harry snapped, as he looked for his robes and ties. He quickly picked up a tie off of the floor as you did the same.

Taking one last look around to make sure you hadn’t missed anything, and picking up the vial of the memory potion that you had prepared before falling asleep last night, you two were off, running as fast as your legs allowed to claim your victory. 

_________________

“Congratulations!” Slughorn exclaimed as he beamed at you, the class surrounding you and Harry as you two stood at the front of the class and the noise of applause filled your ears, “I expected nothing less from my two star students!” 

Your heart seemed to swell at your success, and you couldn’t stop yourself from beaming. You and Harry stood side by side, basking in glory, so be it if it was with incredibly deep eye bags, incredibly unruly hair, and a bad migraine from the lack of sleep. You exchanged a few small smiles with Harry that seemed to only make this moment better. 

After the prolonged appreciation of your success, you separated from Harry, and walked over to stand beside Millicent, as Harry walked to the other side of the group to stand with Ron and Hermione. As Slughorn started to demonstrate for your next assignment, Millicent smirked at you.

“Nice tie, [Y/L/N],” she sneered as she leaned over, “Looks like Potions wasn’t the only thing you two were doing all night.” 

Horrified, as you glanced down to your tie, the world seemed to stop. 

It was a Gryffindor tie. You had taken his, and him yours. Your face burned red as you quickly rushed to take the tie off. But many people had already noticed, as they all glanced about, smirking and muttering things about your and Potter’s eventful night.

On the other side of the group, Ron and Hermione looked positively flabbergasted at the sight of Harry’s green and silver tie.

“Mate… your--your tie,” Ron whispered to Harry quietly. 

“Wha--?” To say that Harry was petrified, and frozen in his spot when he caught a glimpse of your tie around his neck would be an understatement. His eyes shot towards you, but you did everything you had to do to avoid his eyes. 

“Well… um, how was it?” Ron questioned uncertainly, only adding to the awkwardness of this situation. 

“Ronald!” Hermione exclaimed, hitting Ron on the arm scoldingly. 

“What? I’m only asking!”

_________________

“Hey.” 

You turned around to see Harry, looking dashing in his suit, with an awkward smile on his stupidly handsome face.

“Hey,” you said back with a smile, and turned back to the scene in front of you.

Slughorn’s Christmas party. 

Of course, you had come. You couldn’t stand to disappoint Slughorn, especially when he had finally started to acknowledge you more in class.

Now, you were standing here in your extremely uncomfortable dress and heels, watching people dancing, and socializing, in which you were taking no part. The only thing that was on your mind was how much you wished that you hadn’t come tonight. 

“You…, uh--came alone?” Harry questioned as he took a step forward to stand beside you and watch both of your dates dancing with other partners. 

“No,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “I’m not that much of a loser.”

Harry grinned at this, feeling as if this playful remark had broken through the tension that ensued between you two ever since the tie incident. 

“Of course,” Harry nodded, smiling stupidly.

“I bet you came alone, though,” you teased, nudging his shoulder a little.

“Funnily enough, no,” Harry replied smugly. You tried to ignore how your heart dropped a little at this. 

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow, “who’s the unlucky lady?”

“Luna. Although, she seems a bit preoccupied with Neville at the moment.”

You turned to look where he was looking to see Luna conversing excitedly with Neville. 

“Hm,” you hummed, “Zabini seems a little busy himself.” You shifted your gaze to Zabini, who was dancing with some Ravenclaw girl that you had never seen. 

Both of you were quiet for a moment, enjoying the company of the other and watching the terrible attempts at dancing on the dance floor. 

Out of nowhere, Harry broke the silence, “Want to get out of here?” 

Surprised, you turned to him, “What?”

“You don’t seem to be enjoying this any more than I am, “ Harry stated, rubbing his sweaty palms on his trousers, “let’s leave.”

“And go where?” This prospect didn’t sound half bad to you.

“Up to you.” 

“Um,” you crossed your arms, and thought for a moment, “Have you ever stargazed?” 

Harry looked dumbfounded. “No…?” 

“Great, let’s go.” And with that, you took his arm and led the way.

___________________

The Astronomy Tower was particularly chilly tonight, but you two seemed to have forgotten all about the temperature as soon as you caught sight of the beautiful view of the night sky, teeming with stars. 

“Y’know, I almost asked you to the party tonight,” Harry blurted out without thinking about it too much. Clearly, he had gotten far too comfortable, lying on his back beside you, looking up at the stars. He tried to keep his calm as he waited for a response from you.

“What stopped you?” you turned your head to face him, genuinely curious. Your heartbeat had started to beat faster, and your stomach felt weird and queasy.

“I--,” Harry wasn’t expecting a serious response, so he gulped a little before turning his face to face you, “Well, I didn’t want to make it weird, I guess. I wasn’t sure… of what you would’ve said.”

“So…” you smirked, “in other words, you were too much of a coward.” 

“What? Absolutely not! I just--. Well--”

“Well,” you smiled a little, “I would’ve said yes if you had, hypothetically, of course, gathered up your courage and asked me. I don’t seem to mind your company nearly as much as one would think.” 

“Yeah?” his heart seemed to skip a beat as he looked into your eyes, which sparkled from the reflections of the stars above. He was, quite literally, star-struck.

“Yeah,” you smiled, finally giving up on trying to hide your feelings, and allowing yourself to come to terms with them instead, “I wouldn’t even dream of giving up the opportunity to go out with the mighty Half-Blood Prince.” 

Harry groaned, as you erupted into a fit of giggles.

“I would much rather prefer if you called me by my other nickname,” Harry said slowly, his lips curling upwards.

“Which is?”

“The best potioneer,” he grinned. The roles had been reversed, and now it was time for you to roll your eyes and for Harry to chuckle.  

The rest of the night was filled with playful banter, with laughs and jokes, and with insults that weren’t very insulting, all the while gazing up at the stars. Though, Harry wasn’t too focused on the beautiful celestial bodies that seemed to occupy the night sky above, as the only beautiful thing he was interested in gazing at, at the moment, was you.

Tags: 

@bisexualprinxexx​ @parkeroffline​

[mongooseblues]

Bless You Father for I Have Sinned (Fleabag, Hot Priest) 1/1

Did anyone watch Fleabag and/or want to read about a hot priest sneezing?

This works just fine as a standalone if u haven’t seen the show but for context: Hot Irish prob alcoholic “cool swear-y” priest and recovering sex addict and all-around hot mess main character (who doesn’t have a name) strike up a “friendship” that is just a poorly veiled excuse for spending time with someone they want very badly to fuck but can’t bc priesthood vow of celibacy and whatnot.

Here’s ~2k words in which I continuously get off on the idea of blessing a priest and unresolved sexual tension I also don’t resolve.

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

“Fuck you, calling me Father like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it…”

It happens for maybe ten minutes before it starts to stick out to her. Because it’s cold, as it always is on early-spring nights in London, and while they’re both fully dressed (unfortunately), neither is probably quite dressed enough to be out in a garden at this hour. And they’re a bit drunk—not that drunk, they’re both pretty practiced—on the G&Ts he’s so fond of for whatever reason. He specifically likes the kind you get already mixed in a can, which are especially shit, but it’s almost endearing that he likes those in particular. Well, very endearing actually. Goddamn this man—or… hmm, poor choice of words.

It doesn’t really grab her attention until he combines the sniffling with pinching his nostrils together.

“You alright, you’re quite sniffly?”

“I know, I dunno what’s going on,” he says, and punctuates it with a harsher sniffle than the ones previously unacknowledged, “Think ‘m just cold.” He zips his sweatshirt up a bit as if to illustrate.

“We could get you a blanket and swaddle you up like baby Jesus.”

He laughs. She extracts from her coat pocket a pack of cigarettes, takes one herself and angles the carton toward him in offering. Mostly because she wants him to scoot closer to her on the bench as she flicks the lighter for him. The flame illuminates the angles of his face in orange, the back of his fingers grazing her hand by happy accident, and yes, it’s a little pathetic that this momentary skin-to-skin contact is as erotic as it is to her, but that’s what you get when you fancy a priest isn’t it?

“They’re always describing him as being swaddled. Odd word, swaddled. Sounds kind of violent.”

“It does kind of,” he agrees, leaning back against the bench and exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air. Her plan worked, he’s ever so slightly closer to her now, post cigarette exchange, close enough that when he sniffles she can feel the slight vibration of his shoulders through the loose fabric on her coat sleeve. It unites them like an accidental spark of electricity she can sense just faintly enough to feel jumpy. Or turned on. Or both.

She really shouldn’t be this shameless about trying desperately to corrupt a man of the cloth she wants to get under. Maybe she’d feel properly guilty if she wasn’t quite so fucking horny.

“So you did read more than just the passages I marked for you?” He asks, at once surprised and pleased and maybe nervous, grinning but also looking away for a moment as if he could disguise all of that.

“Not really, just the birth of the ol’ lord and savior. It seemed like it’d be climactic.”

“Was it?”

“Can’t say I climaxed reading it, no,” she says with a cheeky look that elicits the laughter she’s looking for, “No offense but it’s really quite boring, this book you love so much.”

“Yeah… that’s a tragically common sentiment among reviewers.” He’s scratching at his nose with the back of one wrist with such intensity it’s unmistakeable how much it’s bothering him.

“Don’t care much for the writing style either, I have to say.”

If the irritation could be resolved with a mouse-like scrunch of the nose he’d have figured it out by now, and clearly he hasn’t because he still has to shrink into his crossed arms like an accordion with a fairly high-pitched, vocal and thus somehow Irish-accented, “Hehh-ishhYUE!”

“Bless. The only way I was able to get through it was by imagining you in every speaking role.”

It’s a sentence meant to provoke him, not unlike most of her sentences, and for a minute as her eyes are on her own exhaled smoke and he fails to respond, she wonders whether it sounded even weirder than she meant it, but as it turns out he’s just about to sneeze again — squinting into the distance and bringing an arm to his face in slow motion.

“Mmff-SHOO!” He blinks in surprise as he resumes his previous position on the bench, now shifted just a bit farther away from her. Damn.

“Ugh, sorry. Every speaking role?? Ohfuck— ahh-ishSHEU!”

“Jesus.”

“You imagined me as Jesus??”

“No I mean Jesus, are you okay, did you catch something?” Of course she imagined him as Jesus.

“Ooh I hope not,” he says with a nervous look, “that’d be lousy timing.”

“The lord works in mysterious ways.”

“Thuh-that he does—” A sudden inhale, a crooked arm rising at a much hastened speed. It begins in a manageable way, somewhat controlled, but then it seems to get away from him.

“Hh… hehd’SHHUE!”

“Bless you, Father."

He mumbles a thank you bookended by soft snuffling.

“Maybe he’s sent you a plague of sneezing. He does that sometimes doesn’t he? Send plagues?”

His face just scarcely conveys amusement before it’s hijacked again by the same expectant expression, but he still attempts to talk through it, even as irritation becomes evident in every feature. “S-sometimes…”

She thinks about saying bless you in advance but decides instead to just wait for him to succumb to it. A flicker of lashes, a reveal of the very tips of canines, his entire face crinkles around his visibly twitching nose. It pulls him downward and then forward in that order, as he collapses into a crooked arm as if stumbling despite being seated.

An especially desperate, “hehhSCHOO!” that begins quietly but certainly doesn’t end that way.

“God bless you, Father, again.”

“Wow,” he says with a sniff, knuckles swiping under his nose in a single smooth motion, “Maybe I’m allergic to you. My body’s having a reaction.”

“Is it?”

An eyeroll and a grin, and then he goes back to scratching at his aggravated face in a manner that’s becoming aggressive.

“Well stop manhandling your nose that’s clearly not working.” Before she can think better of it, she takes his elbow to pull the offending arm away from his face. She can feel his muscles tense with the movement, but when she looks up at him there’s only a blurry-eyed smile chased by a nervous huff of a laugh. Another line she can’t uncross but doesn’t particularly want to.

The therapist hadn’t needed to point out that her all-consuming attraction to someone she couldn’t have was probably a healthy coping mechanism of her recently adopted abstinence. She hadn’t really expected this though — for her advances to not be rejected entirely. She hadn’t planned for hope to cease feeling like such a daft, one-sided notion.

“Should I even be blessing you or is that overkill? Or am I even qualified to bless you? Can one bless a priest if they’re not like, anointed or something?”

“You can bless me,” he confirms, looking like he’s barely got a handle on controlling his own eyebrows. Or lips for that matter. God, that mouth, those lips. Parting by accident the way she’d like to make them open on purpose.

“Little greedy of you. You’re not blessed enough as is?”

“Neh—neverhurts…” He pitches sidewards with a slurred, tellingly tipsy, “hehh-ESHHyoooo!”

“Bless you…”

“Thank you,” he sniffles with embarrassed necessity, bringing the back of a sleeve to his nose.

“Hold on, I think I have some tissues,” she says as she feels around in her bag in the darkness, “Well, cocktail napkins at least.” Another knuckle brush as she hands them to him. How arousing. How pitifully arousing. She really should come up with ways to hand him things more often.

“Ahh you were holding out on me,” he says, and then after a gentle blow, “Sorry.”

“You are coming down with something aren’t you?"

He thinks about it, bringing the napkin away from his nostrils with a final follow-up dab. “I dunno, maybe?”

“Do you feel ill?”

“Mostly just very itchy.”

How many other chances will she get… She reaches a hand to gingerly press the back of her fingers against his forehead. He blinks a few times in response, rapidly and reflexively, and swallows back a smile. There’s a burning in her stomach that’s neither pleasant nor unpleasant.

“Um, you feel okay I think?” She says, attention course-corrected back to the cigarette crumbling in her hand, but still glancing at him to measure the aftermath of the relatively bold gesture and they lock smiling eyes in the process.

If he really wanted to ward her off he’s doing a phenomenally shitty job of it. She knows he wants her. God if only that was enough, to know he wanted her.

“I think you’re right I’ve been sent a plague of sneezing. Probably trying to tell me something.”

“Something about how your new friend could take care of you?”

He grins with half of his mouth. “Or something about how I probably shouldn’t be drinking G&Ts in the middle of the night with my new friend who I like a little too much.”

Oh he… really shouldn’t have given her that.

“ExxSHHUE!!” He shakes the whole bench with this, then straightens back up, not looking entirely recovered, and says almost to himself, “And about how I probably shouldn’t tell my new friend that I like them a little too much.”

“But you did anyway and he hasn’t, I dunno, smote you down yet.”

Irritation is still etched into his features, his chest slowly swelling with air, hastily fiddling with the napkins.

“Are you actually going to sneeze again? You haven’t finished?”

He shakes his head as his eyes close and seizes into a rushed, “hehESHHyue!"

“It’s a plague I can’t stop! Snf, it’s out of my hands."

She knows the night’s over, she does. She gets the sense that she’d been invited to overstay her welcome, but it’s getting past that point now. Whenever she leaves after being around him her face hurts from smiling like an idiot the whole time and she comes away aching in more ways than one. That ache is starting already, another sign they’ve stretched this interaction too long once again.

However, alcohol. “If you tell me to leave and you sneeze again perhaps we’ll know whether or not it was divine intervention.”

“He might just be punishing me now anyway,” he sighs, remembering a cigarette he may not have taken a single drag from, neglected and foreshortening in his fingers.

“We haven’t done anything we’re just talking. I’m a—what is it, parishioner?”

“That is a word, yes. Snf! Though it implies someone who’s actually going to church to, you know, practice their faith."

“I’m a parishioner here to…” she’s not even sure what to say, she still doesn’t know shit about Catholicism aside from the fact that it’s a massive cockblock, “seek your… counsel? Guidance? Guidance counseling.”

He puts a hand over part of his face, tired but amused. “You can’t act innocent even when you’re trying your best, can you?"

She almost snorts. Is this what he thinks trying her best looks like?—No, don’t actually say— “Who said I was trying my best?”

Why can’t she stop herself from saying things like that to him? The only thing that’s going to stop her now is a ‘no’ that’s actually firm enough not to give way when she presses against it relentlessly. He honestly needs to just get it over with before he really gives her too much to hold onto. She’s not going to win out over God, the guy’s pretty fucking stiff competition.

Goddamnit, just break her heart already, what the fuck is he waiting for? This should have ended ages ago, and now it’s getting dangerously close to too late.

Was it unfair to assume he’d be stronger than her? Or is he trying to hurt himself too? A duetted exercise in masochism, mutually assured destruc—

“—ESSHHYUE!” He looks at her through wet lashes, bleary and sheepish and drunk and cute and fuck.

She sighs loudly, looks skyward and says, “Right, you’ve made your point! I’m leaving!”

[marauders-venting]

i wanna be yours

pairing: dorlene (dorcas x marlene)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

words: 2122

note: inspired by the songs ‘I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE’ by Måneskin and ‘i wanna be your girlfriend’ by girl in red

a/n: this is my first muggle au which is pretty exciting!! (it’s set at hogwarts but its a non-magical boarding school). also i love both of these songs so i kept listening to them as i was trying to write this and it was very distracting

“Marls, come on, duet with me,” Sirius begged. “What’s the point of karaoke if people don’t hear our angelic voices singing together?”

“Yeah, Marlene, go sing with Sirius,” Dorcas encouraged.

“Fine,” Marlene sighed, standing up. “But I have one condition: Dorcas has to sing a song as well.” Marlene crossed her arms, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she looked at Dorcas.

“Fine, it’s your funeral,” Dorcas said, shrugging. “Now go sing.”

“What are we singing, Siri?” Marlene asked.

‘I swear to god, Marlene, if you call me ‘Siri’ one more time—”

“You’re making me sing,” she interrupted. “I can call you whatever the fuck I want.”

“But it’s literally the name of an app—”

“Siri isn’t an app,” Remus said, not looking up from his phone. “It’s software that’s part of the iOS operating system. You don’t have to download an app to use it; it’s built into the software of your phone.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” Sirius said. “Moony, stop being so anti-social and come sing with us.” Remus looked up from his phone.

“Do you really expect me to sing?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Fine then, don’t sing,” Sirius said. “Just come hear me sing.”

“Fine,” Remus said, but he smiled and joined Dorcas on the couch in front of what Sirius had clearly marked as his stage. “And I wasn’t being anti-social I was reading.”

“Reading is not socialising,” Lily said. “And since when do you read on your phone?”

“Since my favourite fanfic author updated their fic on ao3 and I’m too lazy to go get my computer.”

“Ok, ok me and Marlene are singing now so hush,” Sirius said.

“You still haven’t told me what we’re singing,” Marlene said, standing next to Sirius with her arms crossed.

“You’ll find out in a second,” Sirius said, scrolling through his playlist and selecting a song.

“I’m concerned,” Marlene said, trying to look over Sirius’ shoulder but he held his phone at an awkward angle so she wouldn’t be able to see. “At least pick a song that I know then.”

“Don’t worry you definitely know this song.” And then the song I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE by Måneskin came on the speaker and a grin spread across Marlene’s face as she and Sirius started to sing.

“I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master. I wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters. I wanna be good boy, I wanna be your gangster, cause you could be the beauty and I could be the monster. I love you since this morning not just for aesthetic, I wanna touch your body so fucking electric…” Sirius winked at Remus, who blushed and bit his lip. Somebody wolf-whistled and Dorcas turned to find James and Peter laughing and Lily jabbing James in the ribs. Her eyes wandered back to Marlene, who was really getting into the song.

“And I’m a blond girl who’s searching for redemption—” at this, Marlene pulled the elastic out of her hair and shook it out. “And I’m a freak that is searching, Imma motherfucking monster who’s searching for redemption!” Marlene and Sirius started jumping around, hair flying, limbs flailing, laughing when they accidentally slapped each other. Marlene threw her hands in the air and her shirt lifted, exposing an inch of bare skin. Dorcas caught a flash of her belly button ring and the dragon tattoo that they knew started on Marlene’s hip and reached up to her waist. She looked away and swallowed hard. Dorcas knew that seeing this shouldn’t have any effect on them but why did Marlene have to be so gorgeous?

“I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master.” They whispered the last line and Marlene’s eyes met Dorcas’. She smiled, her cheeks turning a faint pink before looking away, her blond hair falling into her face. Dorcas felt their heart racing in her chest but thought nothing of it. Her heartbeat always quickened when Marlene smiled at them.

“Oh my god, I love that song,” Marlene said, flopping onto the couch next to Dorcas. She turned to Sirius. “I thought you were going to pick some weird, shitty song that I hate.”

“I was going to,” Sirius admitted, “but my desire to sing a Måneskin song was greater than my desire to piss you off.”

“As it should be,” Marlene says.

“You guys were actually really good,” Dorcas says. They knew that both Marlene and Sirius could sing but she wasn’t sure this song was quite the style that suited their voices. Apparently, it was exactly their style.

“Obviously,” Sirius said, one hand now slung around Remus’ shoulders.

“Thanks, Dorcas,” Marlene said, smiling at her again. Dorcas felt the familiar flutter in their stomach. “Ok, I sang, now it’s your turn.”

“Ugh, Marly, don’t make me do this,” Dorcas groaned. “You know I can’t sing.”

“First of all, yes you can; I’ve heard you. Second of all, who cares?” Marlene said. “We had a deal, now go sing.”

“I hate you,” they said.

“Love you too, Dorcas,” Marlene smirked. Dorcas felt like she was being stabbed and getting butterflies all at once. Because Marlene loved them. They didn’t doubt that. It was true. But there was no way that Marlene loved her in the same way that they loved Marlene. And the thought of that made Dorcas die inside.

She couldn’t keep going like this. Being around Marlene all the time, pretending that they’re not desperately in love with her. And Marlene not knowing. That was the worst part.

Dorcas told Marlene everything. Marlene was the one person that Dorcas shared all her secrets with, all her problems and her worries. And Marlene always knew how to help them. She could make Dorcas feel better even if she couldn’t solve their problems. Marlene was Dorcas’ first friend at Hogwarts. She was the first person that Dorcas had come out to and vice versa. She was the person who had helped Dorcas experiment with different pronouns and genders before they found what felt right. Marlene meant everything to Dorcas. But Dorcas had been keeping a secret from Marlene for months now. This was one problem that Dorcas was sure Marlene couldn't help her with. But Dorcas couldn’t pretend any longer. And besides, Marlene deserved to know.

So when Sirius handed them his phone to play her song, Dorcas picked a song she knew she would regret. They already did. But she was going to do this anyway. She picks the original version of the song, not the karaoke version. This way at least if they sound bad, girl in red will mask the sound with her voice.

She takes the fake plastic microphone and stands up in front of all their friends. As the music starts playing from the speaker, their eyes meet Marlene’s, who smiles and gives her an encouraging nod. Dorcas smiles back sadly, knowing that this was probably the last time Marlene would look at them like that, smile shining, eyes sparkling. Beautiful. So, so beautiful. Dorcas keeps her eyes locked on Marlene’s and starts to sing.

“Oh Hannah, I wanna feel you close. Oh Hannah, come lie with my bones. Oh Hannah, don’t look away. Oh Hannah, just look at me the same.” Dorcas hadn’t taken their eyes off Marlene but Marlene wasn’t looking away either. She wondered if Marlene knew that they were singing about her. Dorcas tried to convey her thoughts to Marlene through their expression.

“I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips. I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath. I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips. I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath.” Marlene raised her eyebrows slightly, asking the question with her eyes. Dorcas gave the tiniest nod. She was tempted to look away, to spare themselves from having to see Marlene’s reaction. But they didn’t. She kept her eyes locked on Marlene’s and sang.

“Oh Hannah, tell me something nice. Like flowers and blue skies. Oh Hannah, I will follow you home. Although my lips are blue and I’m cold. I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips. I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath.” Marlene was still staring at her, lips parted in surprise. It could not have been plainer that Dorcas was singing to Marlene. They felt their heart pound in her chest. Marlene knows. And she’s not looking away in disgust. Her cheeks are flushed but she doesn’t look uncomfortable or angry. She just looks shocked. Dorcas thinks the anticipation might kill her but they’re determined to finish the song. Determined to tell Marlene exactly how they feel.

“I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna be your bitch. And I wanna touch you but not like this.” Dorcas feels herself blushing as they sing the words and for the first time in the whole song, they close their eyes, breaking eye contact with Marlene. When Dorcas opens her eyes again, they see Marlene standing up. She seems as surprised to find herself on her feet as Dorcas is.

“The look in your eyes, my hand between your thighs—” The words die in Dorcas’ throat as they feel lips on hers. Marlene is kissing her. Marlene is kissing her. Her lips are soft, her touch gentle and unsure but Dorcas feels electric currents running through her veins as Marlene’s thumb brushes their cheek and reaches into their hair. And all the while, girl in red keeps singing in the background. Oh, this can’t be real, it’s all just a dream. But it is real. They’re kissing for real. And Dorcas’ hand is on Marlene’s waist for real. And their hips are touching for real. I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips. I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath. When they break apart, Dorcas is breathless. She keeps her eyes closed until they feel Marlene take her hand. They open their eyes and see Marlene, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright, a smile tugging at her pink lips.

“Were you— was that supposed to be— were you singing… to me?” Marlene stuttered. Dorcas nods.

“And I meant it,” they said, caressing Marlene’s cheek with her thumb. “I meant every word I sang.” Marlene rested her forehead against Dorcas’ and she closed their eyes again. Marlene squeezed Dorcas’ hand and held it against her abdomen. Dorcas tilted their chin down and kissed Marlene again, her hand rubbing Marlene’s stomach. Marlene sighed and suddenly Dorcas became very aware of the fact that all of their friends were watched them. She stepped back and Marlene turned around. They both blushed but Dorcas couldn’t keep the smile off their face. Lily caught her eye and gave them a thumbs-up, which only made Dorcas smile more. Sirius was smirking at Marlene.

“I told you so,” he said.

“I will kick you,” Marlene threatened. She took Dorcas by the hand and pulled them out of the common room.

They went down to the lake and took off their socks and shoes. They sat quietly for a while, their feet dangling in the water.

“I can’t believe…” Marlene started, breaking the silence, “I mean, this whole time we liked each other and neither one of us said anything.”

“Well, I sang just now,” Dorcas said defensively.

“You were amazing by the way,” Marlene said, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together. “Your voice is beautiful. I told you you can sing.” Dorcas shrugged.

“Sing something for me,” Marlene whispered. “Please.”

“I don’t wanna be your friend.” Dorcas sang the words quietly, slower than the tune of the song. They tucked a strand of Marlene’s hair behind her ear. “I wanna kiss your lips.” She pulled Marlene in slowly by the back of her neck and fitted their mouths together. Her hand finds Marlene’s waist and they pull her closer. Marlene’s hand is on Dorcas’ thigh drawing small circles with her finger. Dorcas sighs and she feels the smile form in Marlene’s mouth as they slide their tongue into her mouth.

When they finally break apart, they flop onto the grass and look at the night sky, littered with stars. Marlene turns to face Dorcas, propped up on her elbow.

“So what do you say?” she asks. “Can I be your girlfriend?” Dorcas laughs.

“You even have to ask?” they say. “Yes, you can be my girlfriend. But there’s one condition,” she adds, smiling mischievously. Now it’s Marlene’s turn to laugh.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I wanna be yours,” Dorcas says.

“Hmm, let me think about that,” Marlene says, sarcastically, but she smiles at Dorcas and squeezes their hand. “Yes, Dorcas,” she says quietly, “you can be mine.” And Marlene kisses her.

[buckysrighthanddoll]

Envy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader, Bucky Barnes x Savannah (OC)

Warnings: envy, jealousy, angsty implications, sexual implications (nothing actually described), fluff of course :)

A/N: So I’m fully aware that I haven’t been active on my blogs recently, and I’m sorry for that. Since the beginning of quarantine, I’ve been in a very rough family situation and had to move houses as a result. This one-shot will (hopefully) be the start of a series on the seven deadly sins; please give feedback and let me know what y’all think!

You weren’t new to the team. It was now 2018 and you were part of the original Avengers--you had fought in the Battle of New York and against Ultron. People have come and gone and died and retired; it was rarer to find someone who stayed and it was even rarer to attach to someone who was on the team.

Bucky Barnes was that rare, rare exception.

When he came along, your thoughts raced a million miles a minute. He was the Winter Soldier, after all, and you didn’t know how his recovery process was going to come along. You met him when he was in Romania--you fought him for a brief moment before he realized that you and Steve weren’t the bad guys, actually.

It was Steve’s idea to have you stay in Wakanda with him as sort of a caretaker. You had close contact with the team, even though you and Tony weren’t on the best of terms after the Accords, but you were also a hut away from Bucky. It was here where you fell for each other. Seeing him in the fragile yet strong state, the intimate moments as you both stared up at the stars, the kindred walks through the woods, it all made you fall.

Luck would have it that he fell twice as hard. You were caring and compassionate and, most importantly, patient and understanding. Growth was not linear, and you knew that. Being there for Bucky sometimes meant leaving him to his own business, but it also sometimes meant holding him while he sobs after having another nightmare.

You and Bucky had been an official couple for two years and five days. There were definite ups and downs to the relationship--Bucky was the most sincere and thoughtful man you had ever loved, but when the two of you fought, it was like hell on Earth. It could last a few hours or even a few weeks (three weeks, six days, and twenty-one hours was the current record). But, despite having a couple of massive fallouts and many, many bickers over safety during missions, you were a strong couple.

Never in the last two years had you been insecure, until she showed up. Her name was Savannah, and she was stunning in every sense of the word. Shiny chestnut hair, striking grey eyes, the perfect face, an even better body, the laugh that lit up the whole room--for fuck’s sake, even her powers were beautiful with her. She could shoot fire and water from her hands, but she did it in the way that made her seem elegant and graceful and--ugh.

Besides that, everybody on the team adored her. Steve had a crush on her, and you were pretty sure Sam did, too. Hell, even Nat seemed interested in her. The world seemed to revolve around her, and she knew that. And, lately, it seems like James Buchanan Barnes was wrapped around her perfect finger.

The insecurity started when she first moved in. Savannah was a late riser in comparison to most of the team, but that didn’t stop her from being so damn beautiful. During team breakfast, she came in twenty minutes after everybody else had sat down in a loose t-shirt and the shortest pair of shorts to ever exist on earth, and her hair was pulled back messily into a bun. Even without makeup, she was stunning.

She sat right next to Bucky with a plate half-full of food--part of her diet plan to stay in shape, you think she said (you looked at your now empty plate and couldn’t help but feel that perhaps you should also watch what you’re eating). She struck a conversation with him, and they held it for the entire meal. Rolling your eyes and making eye contact with Sam, you stood up and took your plate to the kitchen before getting down to the gym.

“New girl got your panties in a twist?” Sam asked a few minutes later. You tore your attention away from the punching bag and faced him, a scoff leaving your lips.

“Guess so.”

“You ain’t gotta be jealous,” He said, taking your hands. He takes a glove off of one of them. “Bucky loves you more than he loves his damn cereal in the morning.”

That earned a laugh from you.

You took off the other glove, and he motioned to the mat in a silent request to spar. You both worked out, and he took you down a couple of times before you were able to get the upper hand on him.

“That’s my baby,” Bucky sang as he entered the room. Your head turned toward him, looking like a Greek god in a tight shirt and workout shorts. Your eyes also caught Savannah walking in with him, but you tried your best to ignore her. “Wilson has nothing on you, sweetheart,” He adds as he comes to the edge of the mat.

“I took her down three times before you waltzed your metal ass in here,” Sam scoffed. You laughed and got up, going to the edge of the mat where your boyfriend was. He puts his hands on your hips and you reach for the back of his neck to pull him into a chaste kiss.

“You wanna go?” He asked you, nudging his head toward the mat. “I was gonna train Savannah, but I really want to lay some moves on you,” He smiles, wiggling his brows slightly.

“Oh my god, you are such a perv,” You joked, backing up to the center of the mat. “Come on, baby, show me what you got.”

It was a light spar, especially in comparison to how you normally fought each other. It was full of laughs and teasing moments, like right now. He had you pinned down, his hands wrapped around your wrists and his knees on either side of you. You glanced between his lips and eyes, and you caught him leaning in, but at the last second you flipped him over and pinned him down. He gave you a shocked look, but you just smiled up at him.

Of course, he didn’t let you win. He flipped you back over, but this time so that your face was planted against the mat. He holds your wrists behind your back and straddles your thighs, making you laugh. “Well, this reminds me of something,” You remarked.

“Dude, gross,” Sam said. Bucky got off of you and offered you a hand up, which you gladly took. “Okay, we gotta get this girl started. How about you fight (Y/N) first, Savannah?” Sam suggested. She nods her head and smiles cockily, stepping onto the mat. “No powers this time,” He tosses in.

The two of you go in circles for a moment, waiting to see who’s going to strike first. She looked confident, but you were a trained fighter in S.H.I.E.L.D., top of the recruits, and nearly beating out every single agent of experience. She had nothing on your physical fighting skills.

“You gonna fight me or are you just gonna stand there?” She taunted.

“Taunting gets you nowhere, dollface,” You smirked. You continued in another half-circle before she lunges. It was an easy dodge, just a simple side-step and kick, and she was thrown off balance. Her arms fly out to the sides to catch her balance, so you grabbed one and used it as leverage to flip her over you. Once she was on the ground, you straddled her and pretended to snap her neck, which indicated the end of the first spar. “Don’t ever let your emotions get the best of you in a fight,” You told her, getting up.

This continues for a couple more rounds, each time she gets her ass handed to her, but she does get better. Sam left by the time you both stopped fighting.

“Can’t I fight Bucky? Most of our opponents are male,” She asks, smirking slightly. It was abundantly obvious that she had a distaste for you, but it was completely reciprocated, so you weren’t bothered.

You and Bucky switch places, and she’s not doing well at all, even when Bucky goes easy on her. You could tell that she was faking being bad at fighting; she made it clear every time Bucky pinned her or straddled her and she gave him ‘the look’.

“Okay, let’s be done. I’ll get Steve to train you,” Bucky says, stepping off the mat. He gives you a side hug and a kiss to the cheek, eliciting a smile. “Do you wanna shower with me?” He asks. “We’re both pretty sweaty.”

You nod your head, choosing to ignore the death stare that Savannah was giving you.

_____

After that, you catch her trying to go after Bucky a little more. She started waking up at the same time as him and drinking coffee with him in the kitchen, she asked Tony to be placed on missions with him, she made it a point to not include you in conversations with him.

The worst part was that Bucky didn’t stop her.

It wasn’t like he was adoring the attention that he was getting from the both of you, but he most certainly wasn’t hating it, either. It almost felt like he was falling for her--you knew the signs, after all.

His laugh was a little more bubbly, his voice was a little deeper, and the body language conveyed that he was into the conversations they were having. It made your blood boil, and she knew it.

Eventually, you decided that you weren’t going to try to stop them from doing what they wanted. If he wanted to be with her, then so be it. All you had ever wanted for Bucky was for him to be happy--maybe you just didn’t make him happy anymore.

You compared yourself to her so much that any thought about you was straight negativity. You thought that you weren’t as pretty as her, and that your smile wasn’t as bright, and that she had a curvier body than yours, and that she was always so interesting and bubbly. You believed you were so boring by contrast--no powers, no unique features that you could see.

Just bland, boring, you.

“(Y/N), you good?” Steve asked, knocking on your door one day. Bucky was in the living room with Savannah and the rest of the team having a movie night, and she was sitting so unbearably close to him that you became nauseous and told him that you were just going to go to sleep.

Steve came into the room and sat on the bed beside you, making you look at him. “I’m fine,” You lied. You knew it was a lie. He knew it was a lie.

“It’s Savannah, isn’t it?” He asked.

You sighed and closed your laptop before looking back up at him. “Do you think he wants to be with her?” You asked sincerely.

“No,” Steve answers. “I think he’s happy to have a new friend, but he loves you more than he loves--”

“If you say ‘cereal in the morning’ I will chemically castrate you,” You threatened. He laughs and shakes his head.

“You know how he talks about his service days a lot? Any chance he gets, he’s talking about the good ‘ole days when he was actually charming and young?”

“Yeah, he talks about it for hours on end.”

“When he became the Winter Soldier, he didn’t feel human anymore. He thought with every fiber of his body that he was a monster and sub-human. He didn’t think he deserved to live because of all the things HYDRA made him do. But when you became official, and even to this day, he talks about you the way he talks about his service days--with pride and love. He told me that nobody can make him feel as loved and as human as you do,” Steve explains.

“But that doesn’t mean that other people can’t make him feel the same way. He’s an easy person to fall for--I’m not the only one who’s willing to sacrifice anything for him. What if she makes him happier than I do? Or what if he realizes that she’s so interesting and perfect and I’m just me.”

“Do you really think that?” Bucky’s voice asks. You snap your head up to the doorway in shock, where Bucky stood with a sweater. Steve awkwardly stands up and leaves the room, patting his best friend on the back on the way out. Bucky closes the door behind him and kneels next to you on the bed. “Sweetheart, do you really think that I’m into her?”

“It seems kind of obvious, Buck,” you sigh. “I get it. Everybody else sees that she’s beautiful and has an amazing personality. She’s amazing, and if you want her, go for her.”

“No,” Bucky says. His voice is full of emotion, stern and unwavering yet somehow soft. “(Y/N), I love you. You’re the one who has seen me at my best and my worst. You’re the one who makes me smile when I’m sad, who brings me back to reality when I’m having flashbacks and nightmares, the one who wipes my tears. You’re the one I want to marry someday and buy a house with and start a family with--whether that’s fur children, actual children, or just us, it doesn’t matter.”

“Bucky--”

“Steve was right. You make me feel human. Why are you jealous of her?”

You sighed heavily and tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. “You smile so much with her, and you’re always together, and--”

“She makes me uncomfortable,” Bucky interjects. He gives a small laugh before he continues. “She’s clingy and too touchy and doesn’t know when I want to be left alone and in the moments I don’t want to be alone, she thinks that I want to be around her when I actually just want to be around you. She talks about nothing except herself and her family, and won’t let me talk about any issues I’m having. She tried to get me to kiss her tonight, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting that shit slide.”

“She did?” You asked. Bucky nodded in confirmation, which made you livid. You stood up and tried to get past him, but he wouldn’t let you. “I’m gonna beat her ass,” You sneered.

“No, baby, I’ve got it covered. I got up and grabbed your favorite sweater of mine from my room, threw it in the drier so it’s warm, and I fully intend on holding you and making sure you know that I love you. I already texted everybody in the team and asked them to never put her on missions with me or let her try to even talk to me.”

“You’re serious?”

“Dead serious, sweetheart,” Bucky smiles. He grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up and over your head, handing you his sweater to put on. It’s warm and it smells like him and holy shit you’re so in love. “Nothing comes between me and my baby.”

“God, you are so cheesy,” You laughed.

Bucky stands up and gets into bed with you, pulling the comforter over the both of you and pulling you into him. “You don’t have to be jealous, (Y/N/N). It’s always gonna be us.”

“Do you think I’m boring?”

“Absolutely not,” He answers. “I think that you are a perfect combination of wild and tame. You know when to have fun and laugh, but you also know how to be serious when need be. And the way you can break a man’s neck between your thighs? That’s the hottest thing I have ever witnessed.”

You bust out laughing but hold him even closer. “I love you, baby. Can we get some sleep?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” He says. He asks FRIDAY to turn off the lights and lock the door, and then he kisses your forehead before you both drift off to sleep.

_____

The next day, you actually feel rested, even though you woke up at 0430 with him (a rare occurrence nowadays). He asks if you want to go on a run with him, to which you say okay. It takes all of ten minutes for the both of you to get dressed and brush your hair and teeth.

You go out to the kitchen to grab waters for you and Bucky. Usually, nobody else is up at this hour besides Steve (who was in his room getting ready for his run as well), but today, Savannah was there as well.

“You running with us, too?” She asked, turning around with a pep in her step. Her hair bounced in its ponytail, and she looks absolutely perfect in her leggings and sports bra. You felt like you weren’t nearly as pretty in your t-shirt and sweats.

“Yeah,” You replied, trying to keep a friendly voice as you searched for the bottles you, Steve, and Bucky typically use. You find them and fill them.

“He said last week that I could join him whenever I wanted. Hope that’s okay?” She says. It’s almost like she’s testing to make sure you weren’t the jealous girlfriend.

“I don’t care,” You shrugged. “Hell, I wish the entire team would go on morning jogs.”

“Listen, I don’t want to ruin your relationship--you guys are really cute together--but I think you should know that he kissed me last night.”

You shrugged your shoulders and leaned against the counter. “If you were really concerned about not ruining my relationship, you wouldn’t try to lay the moves on him as if you’re Michael Jackson. You’re aware he’s got a girl, but that doesn’t seem to matter to you,” You responded. Your voice was shockingly calm despite how envious of her you were.

“But--”

“But nothing,” You interjected. “Not only that, but I’m not concerned about you ruining our relationship. We trust each other and we’re open about our communication. You’re not a concern to us,” You added.

“Damn straight, sweetheart,” Bucky said as he and Steve walked into the kitchen. He plants a kiss on my cheek and grabs the water bottle from me, leaning next to me on the counter. “I told you last night that I wasn’t interested. Trying to get a rise out of (Y/N) won’t work because she’s one of the most rational and open people I know.”

Savannah got so upset that steam started rolling off of her, literally. Seemed there were some downsides to being enhanced, you assumed.

“Listen, we’re sure you’ll do great on missions,” Steve said, grabbing his bottle from you. “But I don’t appreciate people who try to get between Bucky and (Y/N). Keep that in mind,” He says sternly.

Envy is one of the seven deadly sins. It’s defined as a feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else’s possessions, quality, or luck. You most certainly felt that stupid feeling more than you cared to admit, but that was okay. Communication and being open could fix a vast majority of problems that arise. You were lucky, luckier than Savannah could ever be because you had a partner that was not afraid to talk to you about his problems; even better, he wasn’t scared to listen to your problems.

Bucky was rare, but the love you shared with him was one-of-a-kind.

[delimeful]

the shapes in the silence (10)

this fic requested by @fromsomewhereoverthere as a giveaway prize! thank you for your patience!

warnings: crying, repression, people misunderstanding/talking over each other, virgil’s awful no good dissociation, negative talk

Chapter 10

Virgil wasn’t surprised when he woke up on the edge of Patton’s bed distinctly not tiny-dragon-shaped, the moral side starfished out beside him. 

Of course, not being surprised didn’t mean not being very, very panicked, especially when Patton began to sleepmumble indistinctly. It was as sure a sign as any that he was going to be waking up soon. 

Luckily, Patton was much less clingy in sleep than Roman had been, with only a hand thrown over Virgil’s shoulder and an ankle twining under his leg. It was easy enough to sidle away, right up until the mattress disappeared from under him and his stomach lurched as he fell right off the side of the bed with a yelp.

“Humh?” Patton grunted, blankets shifting, and Virgil did the first thing that came to mind with his whole brain in a screaming panic. He rolled under the bed.

There was the creaking of bedsprings above him, and then a muffled yawn. “Mmgh. Puff? Where’re you, buddy?” 

Two feet swung over the edge of the bed to plant themselves on the carpet, and Virgil felt blood rushing in his ears as though he was about to pass out. He’d tried to convince himself last night that maybe Patton wouldn’t be disgusted if he found out, but he knew what kind of luck he had, and it wasn’t the kind that was generous with maybes. 

Feet away, Patton got on his hands and knees to peer under the bed. Virgil shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to see his expression when he finally realized who “Puff” really was. 

There was a pause that felt both too long and too short as Patton shifted again, and then gasped...

“There you are, little guy!” 

Virgil opened his eyes, blinking in surprise at the sight of tiny talons instead of fingers in front of him. He’d changed back? He hadn’t been able to while he was on the bed with Patton, or even earlier, tangled up with Roman. What was different?

Patton wasn’t privy to his confusion, laying flat on his stomach and reaching out a coaxing hand. “Did you have a nightmare, Puff? It’s okay, it’s not real. I know sometimes things seem scary, but we’re together, okay?”

Virgil shook himself, focusing back on the matter at hand. He could worry about his scaly ailment’s odd restrictions later. For now, he had to convince Patton to stop shoving all his bad feelings down.

He slunk out from under the bed, brushing against the back of Patton’s hand as he went, and sat right in front of the moral side’s face, inspecting him sharply. Don’t think I forgot about yesterday, he tried to convey with a glare.    

Patton barely even blinked at a mythical creature full of sharp teeth and claws getting in his space, because that was just the kind of person he was. At the look, he did have the grace to at least appear sheepish. 

“Hey, it’s okay! Don’t worry about me, I’m all better now, see?” He spread his arms out like he was attempting to make a snow angel face-first. “Back to normal size and everything, not a single problem here--!”

A sharp pop that made Virgil recoil with a squeak, and Patton laid before him once again at a diminutive five inches. He sat up with a frown. “Fiddlesticks.” 

Virgil couldn’t make a sarcastic comment about language, so instead he churred at Patton, unimpressed. 

“Okay,” Patton sighed, “I guess maybe we should go talk to the others, huh?” 

--- 

One jaunt over to the commons later, Virgil stood a vigilant guard as Patton showed the others his new stature. 

“And you’re certain no curse triggered it?” Roman asked again, looking troubled. “You weren’t poking at any of my gifts from the imagination or anything?” 

“Nope,” Patton answered, stretching his shoulders absently. “I was just curled up on the floor with Puff, ‘cause he seemed like he could use a hug from a friend, and I…” 

His voice trailed off weakly, a brittle smile beginning to form, and Virgil leaned down to bump his head against Patton’s shoulder in gentle remonstration. Patton stared at him for a long moment, smile still half-frozen on his face, and then let the expression crumple. 

“... I think I needed a friend hug, too.” 

Roman and Logan exchanged panicked glances for a moment, and Virgil huffed a small puff of smoke at them pointedly. Huh. He hadn’t known he could do that. 

Before either of them could speak, however, Patton shifted back to normal with a pop and some flailing that knocked over most of the objects nearby. Virgil jumped nimbly to the couch to be out of range. In hindsight, they probably shouldn’t have people who were going to abruptly jump in size stand on a slightly-messy table.

Patton sniffled, adjusting his disheveled glasses, moving to roll off the table. He looked like he was on the brink of apologizing for his feelings again, so Virgil growled and scaled Roman’s arm to reach his shoulder, cuffing him over the head with a wing. Show him support, already!

Roman shot him an offended look, but moved forwards anyhow, offering Patton a hand up. The moral side took it and then was promptly tugged into a hug, Princey lifting him right off the ground for a moment. Still clinging to Roman’s shoulder, Virgil could see Patton’s surprised expression relax and descend into small sobs as he finally let go.  

“Hey, hey,” Roman offered soothingly. “Don’t worry about it, Pat. We all have our bad days, nothing wrong with that.” 

Patton shook his head slightly, but didn’t say anything to the contrary, and Virgil leaned forwards to gently butt foreheads with him before Roman finally released him. 

“How about we help you with breakfast? I can fry up some excellent bacon, if I do say so myself, and Specs is excellent at waffle measurements.” Roman winked, leaning in to stage whisper to Patton. “I'm sure we can sneak in some chocolate chips by the time the batter is ready.” 

Logan rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers and exchanging his normal attire for an apron with the NASA logo on it. “With the advantage I have in attention span, I believe my waffles are at no real risk from the two of you.”  

Roman gasped in outrage, and Patton managed a teary chuckle. “You’re going to eat those words! And some delicious chocolate chip waffles!” 

Virgil balanced delicately on Roman’s shoulders as they all moved to the kitchen, and he chirped in warning before using the creative side as a springboard to clamber up the side of the fridge. Princey snorted at his scramble, but before long all three of the human-shaped sides were busy bustling around the kitchen and Virgil was free to curl up on top of his excellent vantage point and take a well-deserved nap. 

-

“Anxiety?” 

Virgil jerked awake automatically, half-ready to duck away from a blow and snarl a retort, but-- he glanced down at his talons. Still Puff. Then, what…? 

“Padre, I know you try to see the best in everyone, but I don’t want that guy anywhere near Puff,” Roman was saying, piling the last pieces of crisp bacon onto a plate with a little more force than necessary. “You should’ve heard the way he talked about him, it just makes me— ugh!” 

He threw his hands up emphatically, and stalked over to the dining table to set the plate down. Patton followed with a dish of waffles stacked high, looking conflicted. Virgil absently noted that Logan had let them get the chocolate chips in after all.

“I know, they don’t seem to get along, but maybe if we all just sat at a dinner together…” he tried, but his voice was weak. 

“For once, I have to agree with Roman,” Logan chimed in, carrying a cup of freshly poured coffee to his seat. “Even without Puff to take into account, I suspect that strong negative emotion is the last thing Morality needs to deal with right now.” 

“And we all know that’s what Anxiety will bring to the table,” Roman added, stabbing a fork viciously into his waffle. “That Negative Nancy never has anything nice to say to anyone.” 

“I… I guess,” Patton said, moving to sit in his own chair with one last look cast over to the stairs.

Virgil felt a tightening in his throat that probably meant he was going to be all sorts of emotional about this moment later, when he was human. Sometimes the anxiety-dampening feature this form came with was handy, he reflected as he glided down to the floor with only a little wobbling. It wouldn’t do him any good to be acting sad when they weren’t even talking about him. 

Something in his mind twinged. He slowed his trot across the carpet for a moment, reviewing his last thought.

… Puff. They weren’t talking about Puff. He was still Anxiety, like it or not. 

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton said, shooting him a smile before leaning over to offer him an arm up. He shook the errant thoughts away, deciding that he should eat first. 

It was better that they didn’t go get Anxiety anyways. Then he’d have to sneak off to play his role or risk them getting suspicious of an empty room. Between being forced through another tense, glare-filled breakfast as Anxiety or sitting content as the tiny dragon people actually liked, the latter was clearly the better option. It just made sense. Who would want Anxiety over Puff, anyways? 

“Speaking of Puff,” Logan started, nodding at him politely, “I was considering the shrinking occurrences again while cooking. Morality, you said Puff was there when you first reduced in size, correct?” 

“Mmhm!” Patton hummed through a mouthful of waffle. Virgil paused in dragging another piece of bacon to himself to tilt his head at Logan curiously. 

“Roman, you believed your reduced size was due to a curse, but Puff was also with you when you first transformed, was he not?” 

“Well, yes, but I’m not entirely sure I like where you’re going with this,” Roman said, frowning. “Surely you can’t be implying that Puff is the cause?” 

Logan didn’t falter, pushing his glasses up slightly as he peered at Virgil. “He is currently the only constant variable in the two cases, seeing as neither I nor Anxiety have been subject to this… shrinking phenomenon. We still don’t know where he came from, and—“ 

“Stop right there, Specs. First Anxiety, now you? There is nothing bad about Puff!” Roman insisted, and if Virgil wasn’t so busy watching the two of them glare, he would have laughed. 

“That’s not what I was—“ 

“Roman’s right, kiddo,” Patton cut in this time, placing a hand on Virgil’s ridged back supportively. “I know you want to get to the bottom of this, but that’s no reason to start accusing friends.” 

Logan took a deep breath. “I know that, I’m simply suggesting that we investigate all possible causes. Unless you want to be left doll-sized without warning at random periods?” 

“I think we’re learning to handle it pretty well,” Patton offered optimistically. Roman nodded, looking a bit smug. 

“Personally, I've had enough practice that I’m confident I can reverse the transformation at will! You’re falling behind, Snorelock Holmes.” 

Virgil ducked back slightly, watching as Logan visibly grit his teeth. “I—“ he faltered for a moment, lips thinning, and then stood. “I am going to retire to my room. I will speak with you all at a later date.” 

He immediately sunk out, ignoring Patton’s protests. Roman rolled his eyes, and then visibly remembered that he was supposed to be cheering Patton up and turned back to the moral side. “Look, we’ll let Calculator Watch cool his jets by doing sudoku puzzles or whatever it is he enjoys. In the meantime, I was thinking of having a movie marathon, which you are most certainly invited to. Maybe some classic Disney will lift your spirits?” 

Patton nodded slowly, still looking slightly troubled. “It feels wrong to let him storm off like that, but  I don’t want to make him upset by pushing…” 

“Then it’s settled!” Roman decreed, rising to his feet and sweeping a few dishes off the table into his hands. “I’ll clean up here and prepare some snacks-- other than myself-- so you go pick a movie to start with.”   

Virgil left the last piece of bacon on his plate untouched, appetite suddenly gone as a strange compulsion tugged at his chest. He jumped down to follow Patton over to the couch, and then slowly ambled over to the stairs as Patton began shifting through their movie cabinet. If he could just make his motions casual enough...

“Puff? Where’re you going, buddy?”

Virgil twisted to peer over his shoulder at Patton, who seemed curious but thankfully not upset. He glanced up at the hall that led to Logan’s room, and then back to Patton. Wasn’t it obvious?

“You’re gonna go check on Logan?” Patton asked, and Virgil hopped up another step in confirmation, waiting to see what the moral side thought. “I see… Maybe you’ll know what to do better than I do. Stay safe, okay?” 

That was a relief. If it had been Roman, he probably would have had a much more difficult time scampering off. The prince was bizarrely attached to his dragon self. 

He chirped once and continued to scale the stairs, claws finding easy purchase on the carpeted corners. It was only once he’d vanished from view that he began to slow, wondering what exactly his plan was. Logan was upset, that much he knew, but how could he fix it? He was Anxiety, and dark sides weren’t really known for ‘fixing’ things. 

There was another tug in his chest, an urge to go-find-protect that only increased with his certainty that Logan was hurting. He took a deep breath, shaking his wings out. First things first, there was no way Logan wanted to see him like this, not after his theory about Puff was the reason he’d gotten agitated in the first place. 

Not to mention, he didn’t particularly want to reveal anything more about Puff to the intelligent side when he barely knew what was going on himself. He focused for a moment, closing his eyes and pulling for the harsh cold edges of his real form. When he opened his eyes again, the world around him was visible from a human eye level once more, and his lungs felt as though they were being constricted.

He stuttered through a few shallow inhales, and then firmly stomped down the panic and racing thoughts down before they could reverse his transformation. He was Anxiety now, and that meant everything that came with it. He’d deal with the panic attack later.

Unfortunately, including his less-than-popular social status, he reflected as he knocked on Logan’s door for the third time. “Logic, it’s me-- shoot, I guess we all kind of sound the same, huh? It’s Anxiety. Are you going to let me in or not?”

Silence. 

“What, did you drown in a lab sample or something? Come on, I know you can hear me.” 

Not a peep from behind the door, but the certainty that Logan was feeling threatened and overwhelmed only increased. His hands twitched uselessly at his sides for a few moments, and then he growled in frustration. “Screw it, I’m going in.” 

Surprisingly, Logan’s door wasn’t locked, the handle twisting easily under his grip. He entered with careful steps and stopped short. It wasn’t a particularly large room, professional-looking with not many places to hide. Logan wasn’t visible on the bed or at his desk, and he didn’t seem the type to dive into a closet to hide from someone. 

Despite the evidence before his eyes, he knew that Logan had to be in the room, which meant that he was tiny. Everyone in this part of the mindscape had officially had a turn, it seemed. Virgil forced his thoughts away from that line of thinking, since he couldn’t afford to have a panic attack at the moment. 

“Logan? I know you’re in here, dude.” After a moment of hesitation, he knelt on the floor, watching the ground carefully. 

There. He doubted he’d have caught it if he wasn’t Anxiety, but there had been the slightest movement in the corner of his eye, under the desk. Without thinking, he turned his head to look closer, and was rewarded with the sight of a tiny form stumbling back a few panicked steps.

“Hey-- wait!” Virgil lunged forwards, chin meeting carpet as he just barely reached his goal. He heard Logan yelp as hands bracketed into a curved shape around him, the tiny side backing into his fingers for a moment before jerking away. 

“Anx— Anxiety, what is the meaning of this?” Logan said, tilting his chin up and trying to conceal the way he was slightly shaky. Afraid of him. 

Virgil kept his hands still, resisting the urge to scowl. “Relax. I’m not going to grab you. Here, just—” He glanced behind Logan, and nudged him forwards slightly, ignoring the glower sent his way with practiced ease. Once he deemed the nerd secure, he pulled his hands away, propping himself up on his elbows. 

“If you’re finished assaulting my person, I’d appreciate an explanation. Now,” Logan demanded, looking increasingly exasperated. 

Virgil rolled his eyes, pointing. “You were about to take a nosedive, Pocket Protector.”

Logan turned and blinked at the open heating duct on the floor under the desk. The one he’d been about to trip back onto, resulting in at best a sore backside and at worst a bone-breaking fall. “... I see. Well, you have my gratitude, though I doubt I would have encountered such a difficulty if you hadn’t decided to intrude upon my abode.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes, and Logan coughed tactfully before continuing. “It’s irrelevant now. What was it that you needed?” 

“Me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one who’s literally pint-sized at the moment.” 

“I would estimate my current height is closer to a half-pint,” Logan corrected, “and regardless, it’s none of your concern.” 

“It’s my concern when it means I could be next,” he countered, thinking fast. “You’re Thomas’s intellect, you’ve got to have some idea of what’s happening. Why it’s happening.”

“I do have a hypothesis, however, regarding--” Logan cut himself off, face falling into a frown. Virgil could see the wheels turning in his little head, and resisted the urge to wince. “You were eavesdropping.”

It wasn’t really a question, but Virgil answered anyways with an echo of his usual smirk. “Remember, I’m always listening.”  

“You only listen to yourself,” Logan snapped back with surprising ferocity. Virgil opened his mouth, but the logical side wasn’t done. “You’re the same as the others, too emotional to actually use your brain for anything but your own feedback loop. You’re only listening to me because you think I'm on your side of this conflict.” 

“That’s not true,” Virgil interjected, shifting to sit up with a frown. Logan took another step away, craning his neck up, but didn’t back down.

“Oh?” Logan said, sounding incredulous enough to make Virgil’s hackles rise. “What would you think, then, if I said that I believed Puff wasn't behaving maliciously?” 

Virgil bit his tongue on his instinctive response, forcing himself to take a moment and think about the suggestion without letting any of his insider knowledge of the situation slip. If Patton had found a sentient monster that everyone seemed to love, and then everyone exposed to it had started shifting mass at around the same time? Yeah, he would absolutely have a healthy suspicion, and more than a few conspiracy theories on the topic.

The real question was, would he be restrained enough to trust Logan’s judgement? He hesitated.

“Look, I can’t not be suspicious, but…,” Virgil sighed at the slight slump of Logan’s shoulders. “Ugh, whatever. You’ve spent more time near that little monster than me. If you think it isn't trying to hurt anyone on purpose, then fine, I’ll follow your lead until-- I mean, unless-- unless things get dicey.”  

“You… are being genuine.” The scrutinizing look that Logan gave him was almost insulting, but fair. He was still a dark side, after all, and even now he was hiding his actual motivations to keep himself safe. 

Virgil shrugged. “You generally know what you’re talking about. It’d be stupid not to listen to you, and I may be a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. I leave that to Princey-- woah!” 

With a loud thunk, Logan had returned to his normal size, half his body knocking against the underside of the desk. Virgil did wince this time. “Ouch.” 

Of course, when he emerged from under the desk, necktie askew, he barely even seemed to notice the bump, eyes alight as he looked at his hands. “Did you see that?” 

“A bit hard to miss,” Virgil muttered, and was promptly ignored as Logan scrambled through a pile of notebooks for the right one to jot his new findings down in, mumbling to himself about triggers and overlapping variables. 

Virgil sighed in faux annoyance, careful to conceal the relieved smile he felt coming on at the sight of a return to status quo. “Alright, nerd, I’m leaving. Remember to sleep, or Thomas will stay up on wikipedia all night, and I’ll make him google creepypasta as payback.” 

“Wait, Anxiety,” Logan looked up, his pen stilling on the page. “You do know that if you ever suffer from this affliction, you can reach out, correct? I’m aware we are not always on the best of terms, but such a shift can be… disorienting, to say the least. It would be illogical of me to leave you to face it alone.”  

“Yeah,” Virgil rolled his eyes, “I know. Don’t worry, Teach, I’m aware that you want to know about  every instance of this shrinking thing.” 

Logan frowned as though he wanted to say something else that might embarrass them both, so Virgil spared him the effort by saluting shortly before sinking out. 

As soon as he was in the hall again, he knocked a fist to his shoulder in a self-soothing motion, panic rising up like a wave. He’d promised himself he’d deal with these feelings, but with them bearing down on him like this… 

He turned towards the faint sound of Lilo & Stitch in the commons, and released his grip on his human form, feeling the stress fade into the background as he became Puff again. 

He could afford a little more time like this, couldn’t he? 

[kyouxa]

Diabolik lovers Chaos Lineage: Shu Sakamaki (Story 10+CG)

In terms of the gameplay: The black choices lead up to a bad ending, the white choices lead up to a good ending. Please no reposting onto other sites, ask me before translating this into another language too!♡

Monologue

The interior of Scarlet’s mansion was now completely different than it used to be as everyone felt a certain sense of urgency to claim the seat as the supreme ruler.

The main cause of this is because of Shu and Reiji-san.

A few days have passed since the fight took place, but the relationship between both of them is still as perilous as it has always been. Even if they have to face each other, not a single word is exchanged between them.

While I and Yuma-kun, didn’t even try to hide our confusion about what happened, Kino-kun viewed this situation as rather optimistic.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Corridor

Yui: (I think I’ve never witnessed such a quarrel between brothers in the Sakamaki mansion before… I wonder what caused this to happen?)

(There are still so many things I need to talk to him about, including the state of everyone’s memories and the mastermind’s intentions)

(But since especially Shu and Reiji-san can’t reconcile, we won’t be able to move on in any sort of way)

...I’ve got no choice, but to have a daringly talk with him about this matter then.

*Yui knocks*

Yui: Shu-san, it’s me. Would you mind if I come in?

Shu: ...Do as you please.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Shu‘s bedroom

Yui: Pardon me.

(Shu-san, he’s laying in his bed… which means he was probably sleeping until I entered)

Excuse me, were you sleeping?

Shu: Yes… but I was getting tired of lying in bed all day, so you didn’t particularly disturb me.

Yui: I wish there could’ve at least been a music mechanism to listen to music while staying in here.

Shu: You’re clearly pining something we can’t have in this house.

Leaving that aside, come here.

Yui: Eh? Do you need anything?

Uwah...

(Ugh, he pushed me… !)

Shu: It won’t feel as bored as I do, if you’re lying next to me.

Yui: I-If that’s so… I’ll gladly come closer.

Shu: You must really like the feeling of being held in my arms. It’s good to have a body pillow like you anyway.

Yui: Ah, was that a different way of saying that I’m somehow stout?

Shu: Fufu, who knows?

Yui: Come on… I can clearly see you’re laughing.

Shu: You shouldn‘t worry about these extraordinary things. You can at least accompany me with your nonexisting body while laying in bed.

Yui: (...Don’t say these things while you’re looking at my chest like this. You shouldn’t act like Ayato-kun would…)

Yui: (But it seems as if Shu-san’s in a good mood again. Maybe now’s the perfect time to ask him about Reiji-san)

Ah, about what happened with Reiji-san...

Shu: ...Why are you mentioning that name now of all time?

Yui: Err… umm… because you two didn’t act normal back then in the hallway… that’s all I want to know.

Shu: ...Aha.

Yui: (And of course once I just slightly mention Reiji-san’s name, he starts to act all pouty over it…)

(How badly I wish for them to reconcile. However, knowing their circumstances, this is impossible for me to say to him)

*Shu pushes Yui away*

Shu: Now that I’ve heard that unpleasant name, I want to go to sleep again. Listen, you have to remember this. Don’t get involved in unnecessary trouble.

Yui: Ah… y-yes.

(As soon as I tried getting up from his bed… I noticed how he formed wrinkles in the area between his eyebrows)

(It’s so unusual for him to set up this kind of stature, because of a small thing like this. Is he really mad at me for what I said?)

*someone harshly opens door*

Yuma: Hey, Shu! You here!?

Yui: Yuma-kun!?

Yuma: What? You were with Eve together here? Well, you’re still her guard, so I guess that justified this.

Shu: Don’t enter my room so abruptly.

Yuma: There‘s no particular reason to care about that, we’re still siblings after all.

Apart from that, I’ve brought something really good with me that should make you feel better.

Yui: Something good?

Yuma: Correct. I’ve also got a portion prepared for you, don’t worry.

C’mon, look! These are some sugar cubes I reserved!

Yui: ...Eh?

Shu: ...Hah? Why did you bring sugar cubes with you?

Yuma: I brought them with me because they were coming along with other stuff in the supply box today.

I actually planned to have them all for myself, but they’re this special that I had to share them.

Shu: I don’t especially need them.

Yuma: Don’t decline them like that! Whenever you get irritated, sweet things are always the best choice to make.

Shu: I can’t get the meaning of eating such things as sweet food anyway.

Yuma: You haven‘t experienced the strength these sugar cubes have within them then. You’ll understand how tasty they are once you at least try one of them.

Yui: (Perhaps Yuma-kun’s expressing how worried he was about Shu-san in his very own way right now)

By any chance, did you come over here to encourage and cheer up Shu-san after what happened recently?

Yuma: Hah? Ahh, if you want to call it that...

But I was concerned about you both, since it’s not normal for us as brothers to start squabbling and mocking each other like that.

So as I expected, you have a rather hard time laughing this off recently.

Yui: I see… thank you.

Yuma: Hah? Why are you being so grateful all of the sudden? Weird woman.

Shu: You seriously meant what you said about checking on me and Reiji because you were concerned?

Yuma: That’s exactly what I said just now. I thought there must’ve been more behind it than you two showed.

Listen, I always see you either sleeping or looking totally bored with no sense of motivation on your face whatsoever.

Yui: (Err, this might be an awful topic right now…)

Yuma: But, sharing your thoughts to make others understand, is what a real man should do.

I know I’ve got no right to break into your trouble with each other, yet we’re family and I want to understand this matter.

I mean, even that chap Reiji noticed how he made a fool of himself because of that. That‘s why, I hope you’ll be vigorous soon again, big brother.

Shu: It’s a somehow strange feeling to have you treat me like an older brother. 

Yuma: Hah? To say it like that, even though I went through the trouble telling you that.

Shu: Not that I begged you to tell me though.

Yuma: Hah!? Jeez, at least I’m honest about my feelings.

♡Roses♡

Yui‘s head: Hey, what‘s there to laugh about? Don‘t you feel bad for doing so now?

Yuma’s chest: No matter the circumstances, you really seem to never change yourself.

Yui: Fufu...

Yuma: Hey, Eve. What are you laughing at?

Yui: Ah, sorry. I somehow felt glad while hearing that.

(Although this entire situation is messy, it seems as if Shu-san and Yuma-kun are getting along quite well. I’m really happy about that)

Shu-san. Now that Yuma-kun went through the trouble bringing these to you, why don’t you eat them?

Shu: Haa… I’ve already told you that I’m not going to.

Your blood has probably way better taste than those sugar cubes do anyway.

Yui: W-What are you saying!? Don’t do that in front of Yuma-kun...

Shu: This should be irrelevant to another man listening. Aren’t you my property to begin with?

Yui: H-Hold on, Shu-san… !

Yuma: You two are somehow… getting incredible well along, aren’t you?

Don’t tell me, did you make Eve your girlfriend all of a sudden already?

Shu: That’s right.

Yuma: Hah!? For real!? Since when!?

Yui: A-Ah… Shu-san! Please come over here for a second!

*Yui pulls Shu aside*

Shu: What is it? For you to immediately grab my arm like that.

Yui: Is it really okay for you to tell him that? Yuma-kun doesn’t remember anything yet, and exactly because of that, he could still go against us… !

Shu: I don’t particularly mind. We’re telling him nothing else but the truth anyway.

Yui: Y-You’re right...

Shu: Didn’t you want to approach someone about this situation to begin with?

Choices

1) Honestly convey him (white)♡♡♡

2) Hide the truth from him (black)

— Honestly convey him♡

Yui: (It may be embarrassing to admit for me, but we need to honestly convey him)

No... that’s not true.

Even you as my lover were impressed by Yuma-kun, who would gladly do something to make you happy again. 

Shu: Heh… if so, it’s fine not to keep our secret anymore?

This way I wouldn’t have to necessarily hide you from all of the family members anymore.

— Hide the truth from him

Yui: I think it would be better… if we stay silent about this.

Shu: Then you could either tell Yuma this was a convenient and childish prank I put upon him

Or you go ahead and choose to stay to the truth, which is us being lovers.

Yui: Is that so...

Shu: You did look more happy than serious despite me telling him the truth all of the sudden anyway.

Yui: (That was… because I’d obviously be happy if someone introduced me as their lover)

(It really seems as if Shu-san’s able to see through everything I think about… I’m no match for him after all)

end Choices

Yuma: ...You know, both of you. I’d appreciate it if you could continue flirting once I left the room or whatever.

Yui: Eh… ! That wasn’t additionally our intention… !

Yuma: I was gonna leave anyway. This way I won‘t be an impediment on your doing.

Shu: Wait, Yuma. I need you to listen to a favor I have to ask.

Yuma: What is it? No need to be formal.

Shu: In case of an emergency, I wish for you to protect her instead of me.

Yui: Eh...

Yuma: Hah...? What are you suddenly blabbering about?

Shu: With my current circumstances, I might be at fault to get involved in another bad situation.

However, I place enough trust in you, because I do believe you’re a really reliable guy, to protect her in those given circumstances.

Therefore, I’ll rely on you and entrust this person to you, once the time to do so might come.

Yui: (Shu-san, what are you talking about? It’s as if you’re hinting at something happening…)

Shu-san...? Why are you saying this?

Yuma: She’s right. Stop saying these weird things, while you have such a serious face on.

On the contrary, if you suddenly start calling out for this sort of occurence to happen, there’s no way I’d not be terrified at first.

Shu: …..

Yui: (Shu-san… what‘s going through your head right now? This is somehow giving me a presentiment feeling…)

Yuma: But, okay… if anything is going to happen any time soon, you can surely rely on me.

Shu: Yes… I entrust her to you. 

Yuma: We have an agreement then. Well, just eat the sugar cubes I gave you, and make sure to cheer up.

See ya.

*Yuma leaves*

Yui: Ah… why did you promptly tell Yuma-kun to do such a thing… ?

Shu: You don’t have to worry about that.

Yui: But...

Shu: It’ll be fine. There’s no need for you to worry about anything.

Yui: (Those domineering eyes...)

(There may be more to this than he wants to admit, but if Shu-san tells me not to think about it too much, then—)

…Okay, fine. I won’t continue to ask anymore.

(I’ll keep believing in you, in Shu-san’s abilities)

Shu: Yes, leave it to me… and with this, this is the end of this topic.

Yui: Fine with me. Then, why don’t you eat the sugarcubes you’ve received from Yuma-kun now?

Shu: I won’t eat those sugary things. Why don’t you eat it instead?

Yui: Don‘t say such a harsh thing. After all, you got this as a gift to cheer up from Yuma-kun.

Shu: I’ve been telling you this some time ago already, didn’t I?

Yui: Ah… Shu-san.

Shu: Your blood is more appetizing and sweet-tasting compared to these sugar cubes.

I have my preferences, even if Yuma tried to cheer me up with these.

Wouldn’t it be natural for you as my lover to sympathize with me over such a fact?

Yui: …But a while ago, didn’t you say you don’t enjoy sweet food?

Shu: Don’t bother making me say it again. Your blood is the only special exception for me… No.

The taste your blood has makes me lose my mind every time over again. The reason I’m obsessed with it, is none other than its hot feeling which could make someone melt away.

Yui: ….. !

(For him to suddenly say all these things… I can’t possibly resist him like this)

Okay, I get it. Please drink as much as you like, until you feel satisfied.

Shu: Continue to leave your entire body to me. Your blood is to me, above anything else, tremendously delicious.

Yui: (Nn… he gently brushed my cheeks. It’s a good feeling having him do this…)

Shu: As I told you. This hot liquid makes anyone feel as if they had better dissolved.

I’ll have to diligently prepare it to make it digest then. You should know I usually wouldn’t bring up the time to do so.

Yui: (His fingers are at the nape of my neck… I feel them touching the outline of it)

(Seems as if he indeedly is going to suck my blood from this place)

Shu: What? You almost seem to run out of breath. Have you imagined me sucking your blood in the spot I’m currently touching?

Yui: Y-Yes...

Shu: At least you’re being honest today. Well, in that case I might just do as you wish… Nn...

Yui: Nn, Ah...

(His fangs pierced my neck… and my body already feels like heating up, despite him just starting)

Nn, Shu-san...

Shu: I understand. I won‘t restrain any longer then… Nn… Nn...

Yui: Ngh… Ah...

(The place he inserted his fangs is even hotter now... No, the blood flowing inside is what got hotter)

(So this is how it feels to be enlivened? It feels as if it’s my life, what he‘s currently sucking up)

(I wish for my blood to be able to continue satisfying Shu-san‘s life, despite it might overcoming him)

Shu: ...Nn… Nn...

Yui: (No matter what it takes, among all the things I can do, I’d especially do anything in order to keep Shu-san safe—)

[hypmic-writings]

happy two years writing! i just got into hypmic but ur writings amamzing,, as for requests: 38 with jakurai comforting s/o? ive had a rough week tbh

38. “I hate myself”

I hope this week is treating you better, love! I’m sorry you were going through a difficult time. Jakurai would definitely be a master of comfort. This one hit a little too close to home for me though, ugh.  Hopefully this can help you feel a little better~

Word Count: 1,195

Genre: Angst

TW: Anxiety and dark thoughts

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

You held yourself tightly as you leaned against the headboard of your bed. You had experienced many bad weeks, but none quite like this. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong, went wrong and there was nobody to blame but yourself.

Everything was always your fault. It was your fault you made mistakes – you should have been paying more attention or anticipated things better. Why did everything around you always fall apart?

The thoughts continued to race through your head as you let the tears stream down your cheeks at will, sobbing quietly as you held your knees to your chest. You just wanted everything to be okay. The stress was too much and you weren’t sure if you could keep going the way you were.

It was a dark mixture of feeling stress, anxiety, anger, and sadness. You hated it. Your heart was pounding hard and you felt like you could barely catch your breath.

“Y/N?”

Your ears perked up at the sound of your name and you let out a dry chuckle, realizing that Jakurai had come home sooner than you had expected, and that he would no doubt see you in your pathetic state. You heard the door to your bedroom creak open and within moments, felt weight at the foot of the bed.

“Darling,” Jakurai whispered, his voice warm and gentle. “What’s happened?”

His presence almost immediately gave you a sense of comfort, but there were far too many emotions spiraling in your head for it to make all that much of a difference at this point. You shook your head weakly and let out a choked sob, still hiding your face with your arms.

“Leave,” you managed, between labored breaths, the tears continuing their assault on your cheeks and falling onto your fingers as you used your hands to harshly wipe them away.

You were surprised to find that the weight actually lifted off the bed and you heard footsteps walk away. You let out another cry, only reaffirming to yourself that you were, in fact, weak and helpless. Jakurai didn’t deserve someone as useless as you.

Within moments, however, your boyfriend was back in the room, standing beside you and placing something down on the side table. Your head was still buried in your hands and you refused to look up.

“Y/N,” he began, as you felt weight on the bed again, this time beside you.

You felt strong arms wrap themselves around you and found yourself being pulled slowly into Jakurai’s chest.

“No…” you sobbed loudly.

You wanted to pull away. To scream at him that he was wasting his time on a lost cause like you. That he should just leave you there and stop caring. But as you felt his hand run itself along your back in soothing, small circles, you felt yourself break even more.

You gave up and threw yourself into his lap, pressing your forehead against his chest and sobbing hard, wetting his shirt with your tears. As you continued to cry. more thoughts swirled in your head, but none of them were cohesive enough to convey, so you stayed as you were, crying as hard as you could and letting out every pained cry and emotion you had been holding onto for so long.

Jakurai didn’t falter. He held you close in his arms and rocked you ever so slightly, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head every now and then.

You were with him now. You were okay.

Once your harsh, loud sobs began to dwindle down into soft, hiccups and weak cries, you realized that he had been whispering affirmations and sweet nothings to you all along. You wondered if this had helped in calming you down and decided that it had.

When the tears finally stopped you let out an exhausted groan and pulled away slowly from Jakurai. He looked down at you with worried, red eyes that had almost been close to crying themselves.

“Jakurai…” you said, starting to wipe your face, but dropping your hands down when he brought his up to your cheeks to wipe away the remaining tears.

“Hush now, love. You don’t need to explain anything to me,” he whispered, giving you a small, gentle smile.

It tugged on your heartstrings and you immediately felt guilty for making him feel bad. You were just burdening him even more by making him deal with your mess of emotions. You should be the one trying to help him, not the other way around.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, feeling the pit in your stomach begin to grow once more. Your throat was dry and if you had any more tears left in you, you were sure they would be pouring down again. Fortunately, it seemed that you were all cried out.

“I’m so useless,” you exclaimed, staring down at your hands. “This week has…it’s just been horrible and everything has been my fault. I can’t do anything right! I hate myself so much it hurts, Jakurai, it h-hurts and I-I can’t – ” you were cut off by your own dry sobs as Jakurai quickly brought his hands down to yours.

“Y/N, listen to me,” he began, his voice genuine and strong. “You are an amazing person. You work so hard in everything that you do and you never give up. Your perserverence is one of the things I love about you,” he added with a chuckle.

“You’re only human, my love,” he said, cupping your chin with his hand. “You are allowed to make mistakes and that doesn’t make you weak or bad. It makes you grow as a person. I know it’s painful and I know how hard it can be to think that you aren’t good enough, but believe me, Y/N, you are good enough. You’re good enough for me and you’re good enough for everyone else. Please, believe that you’re good enough for yourself,” he whispered, kissing your forehead gently. “I want you to love yourself as much as I love you, Y/N.”

You let his words sink in and wanted nothing more than to smile and agree and be happy, but it almost seemed impossible. You didn’t know if you believed his words, but you did know one thing.

You wanted to believe them.

You wanted to love yourself. You wanted to be good enough for yourself. To be able to say to yourself that you are strong and capable of tackling any challenge life throws at you. If Jakurai truly loved you…would it be possible that one day you could love yourself?

You suddenly felt an overwhelming since of exhaustion weigh on you and fell back into Jakurai’s chest heavily. You heard him exhale in surprise and found yourself almost amused at the cute sound.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, leaning once more to hug him tightly. Maybe if you hugged him hard enough his words would be real. If they could come true and you could learn to accept yourself the way you were, you might be able to be happy.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, my love,” he said, lovingly. “I was simply speaking the truth.”

[docholligay]

LIVESTREAM WINNERS AND TOP POINT COMMENTS

THose of you who read the schedule already know this but the winners are:

HOLLIGAY INVOKES THE SPIRIT OF CLOSET GHOST 

and

WE COOK FOR DINNER IN THE APOCALYPSE

Please join me for both! It’ should be a terrifying, thrilling time. 

AND NOW, THOSE OF YOU WHO MADE ME FEEL THE WARMEST. Thank you to all who answered--I know this was super self indulgent and it means a lot to me that you took the time. So, literally 12 out of the 13 of you got at least one point (One person did not give any details, or even a quote) MAZEL. 

Point allocations are below!!

One point winners: 

4(?)ish years ago, you sent Jet a series of letters/cards/funeral lilies, from different Sailor Moon characters. The lilies were for Mako. One card was from Michiru, after Haruka's death. I have never been able to find them again, but I just loved the care you put into them--how they were all written specifically from the character, the fact that you even put tear stains and perfume on the cards. It was just so creative and touching, and it felt like the characters were real for an instant, mourning and living and giving you a peek at their lives. --- @kumeko (That was A Little Letter, and Mako’s was actually a separate thing for the same contest!) 

   “Before you get yourselves killed I want to go on record as saying this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” Rei stood with her hands on her hips at the front of the garage- from that short story about Mina and Haruka strapping an engine to a shopping cart. You can really feel how rei must feel, the resigned exasperation mixed with genuine, but hidden, concern for Mina and haruka’s safety. I think i have said the exactsame thing before people i know do stupid shit. --- BeefSalad33  (oh ma, an oldie but, I think, a goodie) 

OH MAN. I am always thinking nonstop about that piece where Minako confronts Seiya about bullying Haruka, specifically for the line where Mina spits out "you think she'll love you for this?" and UGH that LINE. it HAUNTS me, I want to BITE DOWN ON IT AND NEVER LET GO, I WANT TO PUT IT EVERYWHERE EVER BECAUSE IT HURTS SO GOOD, AND I DON'T EVEN CARE ABOUT SEIYA. --- @wouldntyoulichentoknow (I’m so glad that I’ve managed to make both you and jetty grit your teeth and care about Seiya at some point ahahah) 

"*But flowers grow from death and decay, don’t they? That has always been true, you know that, Mako. You are a rose of perfect beauty, grown in the rich fertilizer of your loss.*

She threw the stress ball across the room, knocking over the cup on the sink, spilling the ice down the drain."

The contrast between reminding herself of how life works, and then still being bitter about it, and knowing what she is and being frustrated about it. It's a lot, when sorting out various issues- i have trauma, and that makes me better at empathizing with people, i'm adaptable long-term, and that means i can put up with some bullshit, that kind of thing, but that doesn't mean those are wholly good things. It's nice to see it put into words, and so plainly, and with such a strong reaction of it.

Roses can still grow wild, as pretentious as that sounds with how your passage resonates to me, but it's still nice to feel that. ---- @katrani (I’m so glad it resonates with you! I liked that line a lot! ) 

2 point answers:

Christmas Carol, Stave 1 - “You are a terrible person,” she jutted out her chin, feigning strength. “Fareeha deserved much better than you. But,” she took a deep breath. “I still hope she forgives you, someday. Someday, I hope you will deserve it.” It feels like cheating to use the most recent thing you’ve written, but nonetheless this section conveys so much about your take on Mercy, so quickly. She may be an idealist, the peacekeeper and builder, and she may want Pharah to have a relationship with her mother that’s not this disaster, but that doesn’t stop her from acknowledging that Ana’s been the primary factor in making it what it is and telling Ana that directly. I love how you write Mercy (and Tracer for that matter) as very warm characters who try to see the best in their situations but won’t gloss over the fact that sometimes, someone does have to be shot in the fucking face. “Good” doesn’t mean “hopelessly naive”, even with a pacifist, and I appreciate that you have characters who show that. 

Bonus, and a fringe case as technically part of the Fushigi Yuigi hateblog: “She was still trying to get home, had been unable to get Tamahome to let her poison him, and then Nakago had hugged her into his chest until she had been forced to flatten him with a punch to the nads. She was tired, she was hungry, and she was trying to have a moonlight bath to consider her options and wash the stink of a man off of her.

And then, Tamahome, again.” - Haruka-gets-dumped-into-Fushigi-Yuugi-as-Yui was a delight that entire episode, but this post was one of the best. Is it really just narrativizing your frustrations with the many, many writing choices that were made here? Absolutely. But it’s a fun little bit of comedic pacing here, especially with the utter exhaustion of Haruka that this bullshit isn’t over yet. (“Fuck my life” to the moon wondering if Usagi could help and regretting how hard it would be to drown herself are close runners-up on that front.) --- Regalli 

(Mercy is, in many ways, my attempt to write someone who is MOSTLY a pacifist that I can respect. It’s not easy for me! I often find pacifism to be cowardice, because so often in life the people I know who are pacifists are, well, not the folks in the street. So i thought, could you write someone who is very hesitant to kill, who believes that even Doomfist, even Reaper, even whoever, deserve care if they are hurt, who believes that a sword will not leave her hand free to uplift the fallen, and make her brave? And make her strong? And so was born, Mercy, who proved that, yeah that person, at least in my mind, can exist.) 

I think one of my favorite passages from your writing is from "The Rest is Commentary". Particularly the part that starts with "I am a doer. " That entire paragraph is wonderfully written, with mix of beautifully descriptive language to describe *why* you don't trust words. It's slightly paradoxical, but it also fits with the rest of the essay (?) so well. And even beyond that,  I love reading when you write about your faith. You are deeply devout woman, and a personal aspiration to me. When you write about your faith, it reminds me that there is work that needs to be done to live it, and not easy work either. But it is very much worth every bead of sweat, and every drop of blood. --- @shavedjudomonkey 

(Thank you so much! I love that people have connected so much with my Jewish writing) 

3 point answers: 

From Requiem for the Great Consummation, I adore the word play with "compose." Ie, in the line, "Michiru folded her hands in her lap and composed herself." Why? I'm a musician. So, Michiru, with her music, holds a special place in my heart. (Why Ami gets the music attacks is beyond me. WTF?)  I don't think the writers ever really understood what it takes to be a musician, and while fanfic writers often include Michiru's music, I've never really seen it done well. (I'm sure it has been. I just haven't seen it.) Music is all about structure. It has to feel free and soaring, but it can only be that because of the intense amounts of tension and structure underneath. A kite without a string plummets. When I reach for high, soaring notes, that's when I have to be most conscious of having a solid base. Making music Is constant tension. So, often when I see writers portray musicians, it's all "she never felt so free and untethered as when she sang/played the,violin/piano/whatever." And I think, "wow, really? She must have been Crap." So, back to compose/compose. This wordplay shows that tension. The "I have rehearsed this 5,000 times and am still working so hard I'm sweating standing still in this freezing auditorium so that it can look and sound completely free and easy." This is Michiru's entire life. She is composing herself. She is outlining complex rhythms and tensions and resolutions that even though you hear when the piece is played, you don't fully take in or understand, and all you consciously comprehend is 'wow, pretty.' Because that's how music works. Organs have keys that can't be heard by the human ear, and composers include them in their pieces. Why? We can't hear them! But we feel them. If you look at the score for an orchestral piece, it contains So. Many. Notes. So much going on. But when you listen, all you hear is that melodic theme. But if you take out anything underneath, things change and cam fall apart. Michiru lives her life like that. She creates herself, composes herself, and it looks elegant and free and easy, but it is so so very tightly controlled and rehearsed, and that particular wordplay showed off that side of Michiru's music, which is one I don't get to see explored much. --- @incorrecttact 

(Thank you so much for this!! I am NOT a musician, but so much of Michiru and music speaks to me, the structure of it, the discipline, the way it allows you to express yourself while hiding behind something else. And yes! I think of that double meaning so much!)

I want you to know... that this was very, very difficult. I made a notepad and collected shit I'd pulled out from your work where I could find comments where I did such, and then I AGONIZED. Here is where I landed but know it's so close with other things god. 

"Winston worked in earnest at his inventions, and Emily went back to teaching, and the two of them began to cook for each other again. Family dinners once a week resumed, grew with some of the new recruits that were being folded into their family. Pharah and Mercy’s daughter took them to the zoo, the park, out into the world. Dva had continued the game they had all been playing before Tracer died, their party picking up after the terrible and well-done loss of their beloved rogue. ***Life did not return, but it grew forward. It bloomed again.***" — A Clock's Fading Chime

I ended up choosing this one because I hate it a little when I read it. Not because it's not good but because it's SO PAINFUL. I love so much about the way you talk about love, and I think grief is all a part of that. We grieve because we loved. The idea of the grief period, especially for those in a close circle of a lost person, being like the cycle of the seasons where a flower may die but life blossoms in the soil it left behind is so evocative and perfect and everything leading up to that last line is the soil for which that line got to bloom. The slow, simple way life returns to them, that they adjust to the heavy rock in their pack (A piece of yours I revisited for this and a metaphor I will always carry with me) and start growing stronger together. And that they find it WITH EACH OTHER too just god, it kills me. But would I rather wish it wasn't necessary? YUP. FOR SURE. It hurts to think about someone who plays Lena's role dying in our own lives and trying to mend the rift between those left behind. But it brings all those possibilities and who may have gone already before to mind because it feels so grounded in the reality of what these experiences are like and shit it's just a great sampling of everything I love about your work. Beautiful prose, saying so much with so little, grounded in stuff that feels read, and ending on a banger, transfixing line. ---- @thoughtfulfangirling 

(Thank you so much! I LOVED that whole series of fics around that, as it is in the way that I often like to toy with the nature of grief, and the way that we go on. Things aren’t ever the same, but we go on. And I’m so glad you gt into it too! It’s very self-indulgent for me, basically everything with OW, so I love when other poepl like it) 

4 point answers: 

Given that I am not Jewish, I hope this isn't overstepping my bounds, but your passover Seder speech really spoke to me this year. Specifically the bits about the relationship between cowardice and metaphorical bondage: 

"This is a celebration of our freedom from bondage, but it is a also a reminder, a call that we must ensure we do not, in cowardice, return ourselves to bondage. "

Without explaining too much, and risking the kind of parasocial oversharing that you lamented the other day in a post, this particular push and pull has been at the forefront of my mind this year. The intense gravity that the familiar, the easy, the safe, can have, versus the genuine terror of pressing out into the unknown in search of something better.

Trying to change, and to do better, and to press on, is fucking terrifying, and hard. But, that is not an excuse. And I appreciated the reminder.   --- @blastoise-m 

(Not overstepping at all! I am so glad that it speaks to you, I really, really love this kind of writing, and I really should get back to doing more of my Jewish writing. My rabbi is leaving, because we apparently don’t have the money to have a rabbi! And he’s readying people to be lay leaders, and called on me to be someone who could give Divrei Torah (sort of like our sermons) because of my tendency to do stuff like this, and it’s very scary! But really exciting as that’s the kind of stuff that had me interested in being a rabbi, is picking this stuff apart and applying it to our own lives HI YOU ASKED FOR NONE OF THIS SORRY) 

"There are no beautiful deaths in this world, and am sorry that you must know it. Rei never was allowed to say goodbye. I watched Haruka grow weaker and more ill every single day. We each have been jealous of the other, at turns, but I tell you this truth now: Our lives mean much more than our deaths. You and Seiya had a wonderful love story, and you raised a wonderful daughter, and unfortunately it is very often difficult to finish a story in a satisfying sort of way. It is not the end of your story, simply of hers. For you, it is a new chapter"

I think this is still one of my top 5 fav fics that you've ever written. I still think of it randomly once in a while. It's such a small moment but it sold me Usagi and Seiya in a way never would have expected. It's such a moment of growth for both Usagi and Muchiru. A small moment of connection for two people who are so different.

This is wrapped up in the entire MaS series, which I could never separate from this work let alone this quote. The entire series is a series about love and all its many permutations. About finding meaning in a world when you think your meaning has been taken away. About carrying on when you think there's no reason to do so. And I think this quote really encapsulates all of that. 

This story, this entire series, is one the favorite things I've ever read and I'm so glad that you decided to share it. --- @madegeeky

(I truly and in all ways love how much you love this fic, it cheers em and makes me so happy every time I am reminded of it. And thank you for loving that line! I FEEL that line. It’s been true for every death that has come to me, so I love when it has meaning for others. ) 

The 5 point answer:

"God separated the sky and the sea, and that’s true, but there will always be the horizon where they blend."

I'm not much of a quote person. I'll often remember the feeling or the takeaway but rarely the words themselves. This, though, has stuck with me.

There is so much in this world, and so many people, who see everything as absolutes. Black and white. Good or bad. Right or wrong. And as I've grown and changed, that has come to bother me more and more.

This quote is such an elegant and accessible way to express how that oh-so-common point of view is a fallacy. And really it's just a lovely line that invokes both lovely imagery and feeling. ---- @seolh

I FORGOT I WROTE THIS, and like the completely arrogant piece of shit I am, when I read it was I was like, “Oh fuck, that’s a solid line.” And yes I am with you on getting older and relizing that the horizon line can be so fuzzy out there, sometimes, and this quote WEIRDLY came back to me when I needed it, a lot, and so thank you! 

[notthatiwilleverwriteit]

Hey I saw your answer about akigetsu and damnnn it was such a good read. They always manage to bring so many emotions in me. Also I saw that you mentioned you might have shipped akiharu if they were executed differently.. how do you mean? I too think that haruki and akihiko would have been better off as friends sigh. Last thing, hiiragi and shizu what's your thoughts? XD

Hello, dear haffi-shipper!

I have kept your ask waiting for a long time, but I think I’m finally getting around to answer you. To be honest, I’m still not completely sure what I want to say or how to convey it exactly but I don’t think further mulling is going to make much difference. So, let’s get to this finally!

“I saw that you mentioned you might have shipped akiharu if they were executed differently.. how do you mean?”

Here is the previous AkiUgetsu answer you are referring to. In it, I talked about why I think they dragged their relationship on for so long even though it was clearly painful for both of them after becoming roommates. I also said this in the end about AkiHaru:

Then there is also the development of AkiUgetsu to AkiHaru to consider. Now, I feel like I have to make something clear before entering this part of my answer. I do not ship AkiHaru. In fact, it’s probably my Given NOTP. Personally, I don’t see any romantic/sexual chemistry between them and I think they would have been better off as friends regardless of how AkiUgetsu ended. For me to feel their relationship, I think their development should have been executed better/differently.

Before I get to your question, let me tell you why it took me so long to come up with my answer and why it threw me in a bit of turmoil.

At first, your ask seemed relatively “easy” to me. I set out to reread the comic from the AkiHaru point of view but as I kept reading, I noticed two things.

First of all, I was rushing through the AkiHaru parts of the story. I was skimming instead of reading and even skipping some panels without paying them proper attention. Catching myself skimming and skipping got me thinking why I was doing it. I knew I couldn’t answer your question with such half-assed work, but it seemed I just couldn’t dig into AkiHaru. After a while, I decided to stop reading and not resume until I had solved this problem. And it turned out your ask was a good chance for me to really take a good look at myself.

As a fair warning, what I’m about to say next might offend someone, especially if you’re an AkiHaru shipper. But those things are the basis for what I have been feeling and going through, so I’d appreciate it if you would at least hear them out. 

I’m pretty sure people who have followed me in the Given fandom know that AkiUgetsu is my OTP through and through. People with whom I’m closer probably also know that my relationship with the AkiHaru folks is…complicated for the lack of a better word.

To me, the Given fandom has been one of the most frustrating fandoms I have been in. Character bashing, ship bashing, bashing disguised as crack, cliques, banning, kicking out, and very passive-aggressive behavior all around. It seems we can barely talk about anything without lowkey offending each other and we seem to lack the ability to keep scrolling if something isn’t to our taste.Now, I fully understand this kind of behavior concerns the whole fandom, though I would say some ships are more peaceful than others and are just doing their thing. But in my experience, it’s the AkiHaru folks who do the lion’s share of dominating the fandom and lowkey silencing people.

Before anyone comes at me, please know that I’m not saying people can’t ship what they want or that everyone has to agree with my personal preferences. I have no problem with people shipping AkiHaru and/or disliking AkiUgetsu. It’s their business and freedom. What I am saying, however, is that I have encountered many Ugetsu/AkiUgetsu fans who feel like they don’t have any space in the fandom. They are hesitant to post about Ugetsu/AkiUgetsu in groups etc. because they are afraid of the avalanche of AkiHaru folks who just can’t keep scrolling. And this hesitance spreads until it seems like you’re all alone in the fandom.

I’m also not saying that every AkiHaru shipper is the same. I’m sure the majority of them are perfectly nice people, and I’m even friends with some of them. It’s just that the most vocal and aggressive of them can act very entitled and as if their endgame ship gives them some kind of moral high ground in the fandom. In other words, if you can’t see the superiority of AkiHaru, there must be something wrong with you.

The reason why I have developed such a strong disliking of AkiHaru is precisely because of the way the AkiHaru fandom behaves. In my time of being in the fandom, AkiHaru has gone from neutral “meh” to a NOTP to me. And that development is why I realized I was rereading the AkiHaru story in such a half-assed way. The canon story of AkiHaru evokes the same frustration, anxiety, and “ugh” reaction in me as the AkiHaru shippers do, and I end up barely being able to read the panels through.

But trying to answer this question made me realize that I haven’t been fair. It’s not right that I’m not giving the ship a fair chance just because I associate it with the fandom. The fandom does have a big role in how people view something in canon, but it’s ultimately up to me if I lowkey deliberately won’t give something a chance. This behavior also goes against what I personally believe because I think that kind of skewed reading leads to biased interpretations. Despite what my personal interests and biases are, I don’t think I can pick and choose what to acknowledge in canon.

So, I was forced to swallow a somewhat bitter pill and take a good look at myself. I had to almost completely rethink my take on AkiHaru which is why it took me so long to work up to this answer.

Another thing that I realized after all the deliberation was that I might come out as AkiHaru curious at the end of this. After the closing of the Given Facebook group I was a member of, I took a step back from the main fandom. I wanted nothing to do with the constant arguments and bashing anymore. I pitched up a little corner for Ugetsu folks and decided I would be content with that space. It’s a small group and will probably never grow big but at least I won’t have that nervous churn of stomach every time I get a notification from the group.

But I think that step back helped me see AkiHaru better and even get more interested in it. My reaction to it isn’t as clouded with my feelings towards the fandom as it used to be. My guard isn’t as high anymore, and I feel like I can give it a proper chance now. I have had some tickles to even try and write AkiHaru. AkiUgetsu still remains as my OTP for sure, but I’m beginning to get some sparks of inspiration from AkiHaru as well.

I’m sorry for the long explanation but I just wanted to make people reading this know where I’m coming from with AkiHaru. Now, finally to your question!

The main “problem” I have with AkiHaru is that I can’t see much romantic chemistry and depth between them. In my eyes, they pale in comparison to what AkiUgetsu had. AkiHaru is cute and fluffy, but I feel like “cute uwu” is where the conversation begins and ends with them. However, that changed a little to me as I kept deliberating. Their relationship started to gain a few more layers but they still don’t really have the kind of complexity and development that would pull me in. I can see they are in a relationship in the comic but I’m struggling to really feel them.

I think stories involving long-term unrequited love are very tricky to execute well. If A has been one-sidedly in love with B for a long time, it’s difficult to make B return those feelings in a way that feels natural and not forced because of the plot. Especially if that change is from friendship to romantic love. In AkiHaru’s case, I could feel Haruki’s unrequited crush on Akihiko but I’m really struggling to feel Akihiko returning those feelings. He confessed to Haruki in canon, but the process of him gaining and discovering those feelings was lost on me.

I think the one of the biggest reasons for that was the 6-month timeskip Kizu decided to take in chapter 28. I do think Akihiko started to see Haruki in a different, more romantic light during his stay before their CAC performance. But I feel like the mental process of his feelings for Haruki taking shape and strengthening to the point of confessing was lost in the timeskip. Akihiko went from inklings of seeing Haruki in a different light to “I wanted to become a better man for you”, and that change in him was basically covered with a couple of panels of him buying Haruki some coffee.

Now, I do realize there were panels of Haruki talking about Akihiko moving out, quitting his part-time jobs, spending more time practicing the violin, and “acting strangely”, but all of that is telling instead of showing. When it comes to something as big as Akihiko going through all that change – the biggest issue I always have with these kinds of stories about unrequited love – the story needs to show the development to me, not tell me.

So, if there was one thing I would have changed in AkiHaru, it would have been that timeskip. I would have loved to see inside Akihiko’s head during all that time and actually see the progress of his feelings and resolve. What does he love about Haruki? How does Haruki make him feel? Don’t just skip all of that and make him confess and say that he’s now trying his best for Haruki. If you compare the way Akihiko was made to fall in love with Haruki to how his story with Ugetsu was told to us, the difference is like night and day.

In some ways, I think AkiHaru lacks the development and care that AkiUgetsu and even UeMafu has. As I said in my earlier answer, the direction from AkiUgetsu to AkiHaru makes sense to me and now I can even appreciate it, but even with my new rereading of AkiHaru, the ship doesn’t bring as much to the table as AkiUgetsu did. It’s fluffy and uwu but where is the rest?

I think this also shows in the fandom’s AkiHaru content. I see a lot of fanart of blushing Haruki and posts raving about cute AkiHaru panels, but I’m struggling to find layers in the fluff-fest. What about conflicts in their relationship? What about how will the downsides of both Haruki and Akihiko’s characters affect their relationship? With these questions I’m talking about the fans’ thoughts and ideas. For example, I would be genuinely interested in AkiHaru folks’ headcanons.

This wraps up the AkiHaru part of my answer. I probably upset some people and I apologize for that, but I feel like I needed to address those things. In the end, I got a lot of things off my chest which helped me clear my own feelings towards AkiHaru. I still prefer to keep my distance from the main (AkiHaru) fandom, but I do realize I hadn’t been fair in my judgment of the ship. There are some things that will most probably always sting in my heart, but I think I have gained some new interest in AkiHaru after giving it a proper chance.

“hiiragi and shizu what's your thoughts?”

ShizuRagi isn’t exactly my area of expertise, but I do love the characters and I’m excited to see them becoming canon. To me, ShizuRagi has the kind of depth and complexity that interests me.

Hiiragi is definitely one of my favorite uke characters in all of the BL I have read. It’s so unbelievably refreshing when an uke is shamelessly head over heels for their seme. I love his inner tsundere simping for Shizusumi. I also absolutely love the confidence, energy, and brilliant shine of Hiiragi. To me, he has the vibe and intelligence of a music producer. But despite all the tough confidence, he is also considerate of his surroundings and worries easily.

Overall, ShizuRagi is probably my second favorite ship after AkiUgetsu. I love the complexity of how Shizusumi feels about Hiiragi. I’m drawn to the darkness he seems to carry and what kind of contrast it creates with Hiiragi’s dazzling shine. The overwhelming and at times a bit intimidating devotion he has for Hiiragi but at the same time feeling like he’s being cast aside by Hiiragi/he’s someone who can’t compete for Hiiragi’s love tickles my angst bone. There is this dark energy in him that wants to both cherish Hiiragi’s light but also seal it off just for himself. In some ways, ShizuRagi reminds me of AkiUgetsu but just with a dynamic that is the kind that “fits” an endgame relationship.

So, yes, double thumbs up for ShizuRagi development!

Thank you for your questions! They proved to be difficult for me on a personal level, but I’m glad I went through that process. Also, thank you for your endless patience waiting for me to get my thoughts sorted out!