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#this elections has gotten me so anxious
sunasbabie · 2 years
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praying that the people who support b*m arent registered voters heh
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andreagrimes · 2 years
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saltsicklover · 10 months
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24,901 Miles
Title: 24,901 Miles
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First Person)
Word Count: 1,800
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Swearing, Angst and Fluff
Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.
I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.
You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.
We have always been the most intimate in crowded rooms; yards apart eyes catching each others' knowing glances. The way his fingers trace gently over the Windsor knot of his tie, adjusting the already perfect garment- maybe he still hasn't gotten used to the way the silk sits against the collar of his shirt, or maybe he knows my gaze will be drifting over the bloom of scabs and scrapes that decorate his knuckles like jewels. 
He cut his hair but his hands still drift up to the sides of his face, brushing his fingertips over the well trimmed, effectively shaved hair in an effort to tuck it behind his ears. I can feel a smile tug at the corners of my lips when he catches himself half way through the movement, arm bent, hand reaching, before he stumbles over his own movements, electing to run a hand over his dark stubble instead. I catch the sideways dash of his eyes as he drops his hand back to his side, effectively tucking it in his pocket to keep himself from making another false move. 
I catch him watching me adjust the straps of my high heel, one foot up on a chair. He leans against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching- studying- as I struggle with the small buckles. By the time I set both feet back on the ground and pull the hem of my dress back down in place, he has drifted to the other side of the room again, making small talk with the other party goers. I hold a glass up to him from across the room, the chilled champagne numbing the tips of my fingers, a sharp contrast to warmth of the blush that rolls over on my skin at his smile. 
Our paths drift back together as the night rolls on, the mugginess of the late summer air dissipating into the most refreshing cool breeze. He stands outside, eyes wandering over the lights of the city, the movement slow and deliberate, like he is trying to take in every single twinkle and blink of each individual light of the cityscape below us. I watch the dance of the lights through his whiskey dark eyes and nothing has felt more augur than this moment- I could see our entire future in his eyes, each moment written in a flurry of city lights. 
"James," My voice small and strained from overuse. I clear my throat a bit, before trying again, "James." He turns to look at me this time, pieces of myself melting like candle wax while the sense of smoke billows through my head. "What's a doll dizzy man like yourself doing out here all alone?" The smile that blooms across his face is the brightest I have ever seen. 
"The prettiest dame at the party just wandered out here, so why on Earth would I be in there with Tony and the like getting sauced?" He chuckles, eyes wandering over the crest of my shoulder and down to my wrist. 
"How long are we going to keep this up, James?" I question him, gesturing between us. He doesn't bother to turn and meet my eyes, his sight still falling over the skyline.
"How long are you going to keep calling me James?" He shoots back, rubbing at the back of his neck, more in an attempt to work out the anxious energy that builds between us than anything. I wander up to his side, positioning myself at the railing. The metal is cold through the fabric of my dress but the heat that rolls off James is more than enough to stifle the goosebumps that threaten to encapsulate my skin. 
"You look nice in purple," I dodge his question, fingers gripping over the railing to steady myself. We brush elbows. My heart thrums beneath my ribcage, blood coursing through my ears. 
"I didn't even think they made ties out of silk anymore. After they started rationing for the war effort, Ma always bought Pa and I wool ties. These are much more comfortable," He runs his hand down the length of his tie, palm brushing it flat against his chest, "But I'm always worried this damn knot is comin' loose." He cocks his body more towards mine, eyes still planted firmly on the silk tie. I turn towards him, my hand finding purchase on the soft silk knot, the other swatting away his hand before pulling the material tight with careful fingertips. 
He ventures a careful glance at me, tongue poking out from between his teeth. I run a hand down his chest for a moment before pulling back, turning my attention back towards the darkness of New York. I swear I could feel his heart threatening to break through his chest, but I try not to dwell on it. 
"Do your hands hurt?" My voice is quieter now. 
"Not much," He shrugs, "Why, you worried about me, doll?" 
I can't fight the sigh that escapes my lips. "Don't do that, James," 
"Don't do what, doll?" He questions me, throwing a look my way, over the bulk of his shoulder. His eyebrows are furrowed and low, a soft but perturbed look painting his features. 
"That! Call me 'doll'" I lean down, pressing my forehead to the chilled railing in a shallow attempt to keep a level head, "You can't just dodge my question and then pull shit like that, James, that's not how it works," I huff. 
"Don't go acting all cockeyed, thinking I'm the only one dodging questions here, doll," And there it is again, that damn nickname that manages to break me and put me back together again with four simple, little letters. I know we aren't going to get anywhere with all of this back and fourth, sometimes, something's gotta give. 
"I call you James because that's your name," Our elbows brush again and I can't tell if he did it on purpose or if we are just drawn to each other. 
"I don't know how many time's I've gotta tell you this, but you can call me Bucky," His voice is somewhere between a huff and a plea, either way exasperated. I can't call him that, no matter how many times he asks, because that's what his friends call him. That's what his team calls him. That's what a girlfriend should call him. I am none of those things. 
"Eleven."
"What?"
"You've asked me to call you that eleven times. Every single party that we have been at-" I want to say 'together' but I stop myself, because we have never been at a single one of these damn parties together. He turns to me but I don't face him. It's my turn to make constellations out of the city lights. "I have been at eleven of these damn things for Tony, and I don't even know why he would want a journalist at his parties, but I show up every time. Not because I want to see him, either."
"Eleven? You counted?" His tone is soft like it's shadowing some sort of disbelief instead of interrogative like it should be.
"How long are we going to keep up whatever this is?" I look him in the eye now, my tone pleading to mask the hurt blooming behind my ribcage. I can feel pinprick tears beginning to form in the corners of my eyes. He just looks at me with disbelief, no, refusal. 
"You counted how many time's I have asked you to call me 'Bucky', and yet, you still won't do it. You keep calling me James, and yeah, that's my name, doll, but you're too, you're too-" He gestures up and down, palms to the sky like he is pleading with an all knowing force.
"I'm too what, James?" There is pain in my words now. I blink back the tears, refusing to let them fall. There is too much space between us now, not physically, but emotionally- we are more distant now than we have ever been. James lets out a gruff sound of annoyance. 
"You're too goddamn important to me, okay?" He almost shouts at me, hands buried in his hair. "You know who called me James? Hydra. When I wasn't 'Soldier', or 'Asset', or 'Weapon' I was James. That name makes me sick, now." 
"Oh, God, I am- I am so sorry. I didn't, I didn't know," I attempt to apologize, neither of us attempting to make eye contact. 
"It's not your fault, don't worry about it," He tried to brush it off, waving his hand.
"I can't believe I have been coming to these parties to see you and I've just ended up insulting you every single time! Oh my God, I am so sorry." I burry my face in my hands, trying to hide the embarrassment and raspberry blush that now stains my face. My whole body burns as I relive every time I have called him James, over and over again on fast forward. "I don't blame you if you want to get as far away from me as possible."
"You know, the closer we are together is technically the furthest away from each other we can ever possibly be, if you trace the path around the Earth the other direction," He takes a half a step closer to me, closer than he has ever been before, "So, sure, I can get further away," 
"What are you doing?" I question him, voice wavering. 
"I'm getting as far away from you as possible," He reaches out, grabbing my hands in his, enveloping them with the wide expanse of his fingers. He pulls me closer, placing my hands against his chest firmly before snaking one hand around my waist, the other coming up to brush over my cheek. He leans forward, capturing my lips with his in a heat filled kiss that leaves me breathless. He pulls back quickly, eyes searching my face for any sort of discomfort.  A smile pulls at the corner of my lips, my heart fluttering in my chest. I let myself step just a fraction closer, my chest pressing against his. He smiles down at me, eyes sparkling brighter than any of the lights in the city. I run my knuckles over his cheekbone.
"You never did answer my question,"
"I am going to keep this up as long as you let me. There is no one I'd rather be further away from, doll," He winks at me. 
"24,901miles between us and you're still a flirt," I chide, pushing his shoulder playfully. 
"I've been flirting with you for eleven of these parties, I'm just happy it finally got us somewhere."
"Me too, Bucky, me too," I pull him down for a kiss, but the wide smile he wears leaves me giggling against his lips from 24,901miles away.
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viridianriver · 5 months
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for my US followers who are feeling helpless about Palestine rn, and our country's involvement, I urge you to check out the 5 calls website / app and make some calls to your representatives.
all you have to do is enter your city and it'll give you the numbers of your representatives. The app seriously makes it so simple, it gives you a script, a phone number, and if you're anxious about talking on the phone you can even call in the evening when you will go straight to voicemail! it takes all of 5 minutes, and you can call a few times a week to keep the pressure on - the app will remind you!
As easy as it is to be cynical and think calling does nothing, I don't believe that. the way our political system works, politicians do what they feel they need to do to stay elected.
The US has gotten away with colonialism too long through propaganda and our collective denial, but we don't live in a time where information is so easy to censor anymore. we know what's happening, we know our government's involvement in it, let them know we know! They've counted on our ignorance for too long.
call your representatives, tell them this will effect who you vote for, and call for a ceasefire and humanitarian aid.
I seriously think we have a chance to let our politicians know that we're not going to bury our heads in the sand here - and honestly a responsibility to, as the people who can actually impact what the US does. because as little as you may feel listened to, the brutal truth is that your voice will matter more to our politicians than anyone who's not a citizen.
and honestly, i don't think there's any excuse to stay silent now. yeah, talking on the phone is uncomfortable, but there's a genocide happening - a little discomfort is the absolute least we can do
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naturalrights-retard · 5 months
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In a video statement released on Truth Social, Donald Trump described the World Health Organization (WHO) as a “corrupt globalist scam.”
“The World Health Organization has become nothing more than a corrupt globalist scam paid for by the United States but owned and controlled by China,” Trump said. “When the China virus reached our shores three years ago, the World Health Organization disgracefully covered the tracks of the Chinese Communist Party — every single step of the way. For this reason, it was my great honor to terminate America’s relationship with the World Health Organization.”
Trump explained the U.S.’ role in the WHO before adding, “Unfortunately, crooked Joe Biden foolishly re-entered the World Health Organization at the full price and without any negotiations or reforms. And now Biden is pushing to bypass the United States Senate to enter a pandemic treaty that would surrender American sovereignty to the World Health Organization. Again, controlled by China.”
The former president explained that should be elected president in 2024, he “would not allow public health to be used as a pretext to advance the march of global government.” He then called for the WHO to be “completely abolished and replaced.
Explaining that the United States was paying the WHO “almost $500 million a year,” Trump stated, “I could have gone into the World Health Organization for $25 million.”
“Biden didn’t take that deal. He’s paying almost $500 million. They were so anxious to get the United States back after I terminated the agreement. They were so anxious to get it back that they offered me a deal – $25 to $30 million. And I said, ‘No, I’ll wait.’ Could have gotten it for less.”
“But I didn’t want less at that point,” Trump continued. “We were paying almost $500 million. Could have done it for 25 to 30 [million dollars]. Biden took the 500 — almost the 500 million dollar deal. He knew he could have gotten back in for less. So why did he pay so much? But that’s just one of many things that are wrong with our country. Thank you very much.”
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partial-bouquet · 2 years
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I’ve been having a time recently. It’s not something I’m really going to go into on my tumblr here and it’s not what this post is about.
This post is about Night Vale. I have listened to the 10 year anniversary. I cried. Which isn’t surprising. I cry to Night Vale quite a bit. It makes me emotional, in a good way.
This podcast was the first podcast I loved. The first one I ever listened to.
There is such a love in Night Vale and such a way of writing that just makes me feel safe. As a deeply anxious trans woman, this podcast is comforting, and I believe both Joseph and Jeffery know this. All these quotes scattered about that are just so gorgeous (“may we all be human, beautiful, stupid, temporal, endless”, “be proud of your place in the cosmos, it is small, and yet, it is”, etc). All these quotes that just keep me going, i have a note on my phone, titled “Night Vale And Other Quotes To Make The World Softer”.
I relistened to this podcast during the 2020 Election when that had my anxiety at it’s worst, and then again a few months later when my parents found out I was trans. This podcast has gotten me through the rough and tumblr of my life ever since 2017. I’ve listened to episodes 1-111 (as these are my favorites) about a dozen times now, a good half of these have probably occurred from 2020-2022.
Joseph Fink’s weather in 210 was beautiful, it is a love letter to the community we have.
I adore this show from the bottom of my heart and it means so damn much to me.
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letterkee · 2 years
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This is such a sad morning. I haven’t gotten a good rest yet considering how anxious I was waiting for the elections result, only to find out who was on the very first list. I could not sleep at all, before and after the election. I do not know where else to go without feeljng disheartened, so in this little piece, I am writing to express my rawest sentiment.
Never once did I side for fake news, even long before I have always despised fake news. This election has really opened my eyes more and realized the extreme effect of disinformation. You can’t help but feel torn between the feeling of sadness and madness to the people who fell for it.
My heart screams for those people who voted the dictator’s son, that I no longer have the same perception of how they are as a person. I will forever believe that no one on their right mind would think he was the perfect and suitable leader on this god forsaken country. My heart is crying for the Philippines and its people.
As a first time voter, I didn’t know that I could ever be disappointed more, here in the Philippines’ system. It’s so painfully hard to see the rampant injustice and fraud the election system before you.
I never could’ve think I’ll have a big hatred for those who are previlidged enough and is actually giving a zero fucks for what will be the future of the country. From my truest of the truth, every enabler who gave the old man the power will never be forgotten. Never will it make sense that it is very right to forget history, possibly allowing it to happen once more in my generation. I despised everyone who sided for the human rights violator, tax evader, thief, liar, and so on. I will never ever be ashamed for fighting for what is truly for the Filipino people.
Countless of times I prayed. On a silent night, I painfully and wordlessly cried for the country, its people, my dreams and my future. The very first time I found the biggest hope yet in my life ever since I have come to open my eyes in this world, and the very first time I held and fought for it despite the unsettling feeling of anxiety. This will forever live in me.
This is not the end.
We are just starting.
“Ang namulat, ‘di na muling mapipikit” - Vp Leni, 2022
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corvid-corvette-coven · 5 months
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emails between my and my school psychiatrist, Kat (the beloved <3) || VENT!! || long post but i vented to prove my point to her aswell
Corvid-Corvette-Coven <[email protected]>
To: Kat (the beloved <3)
Wed 25/10/2023 9:22pm
Subject: <this field has been intentionally left blank>
we had a meeting scheduled for today right? Cos i wont be at school today It's gonna be a bad day for classes for me and I honestly just pussied out of it its more likely i have an underlying buildup of anxiety thats doing that but yeah
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literally me /\
Kat (the beloved <3) <[email protected]>
To: corvid-corvette-coven
Fri 27/10 2023 11:21am
Subject: Re. <this field has been intentionally left blank>
Hi, How are you feeling today? I hope you are at school. Cause you know the longer you avoid anxious triggers, the more difficult they may become to face…just saying….
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With Gratitude, Kat (the beloved<3 | Psychologist  School Jesus School 100 School Street | PO Box 8008 | TOWN NSW 8008 ABN 17 690 720 860 P +61 6 9420 1080p E [email protected] W http://www.school.nsw.edu.au
Corvid-Corvette-Coven <[email protected]>
To: Kat (the beloved <3)
Fri 27/10 2023 12:24pm
Subject: This email took an hour to write lol (can you tell I used to do public speaking and debating)
I'm feeling good today, I've taken my meds (which is why this email is so long and detailed), and I plan to get work done. ('good' really means normal, and for me n o r m a l means I'm still carrying my constant emotional baggage but it's not necessarily bumming me out right now)
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COUNTER ARGUMENT!!! The longer you stay in situations that stress you out the further that will continue to build, and really I am de-stressing to avoid burnout. THINGS THAT STRESS ME OUT (non exhaustive list) -Dysphoria from my friends  (appearance and social gender envy from Ara Ara)  (emotional, appearance, and social gender envy from Brisket)  (emotional, appearance, and social gender envy from Paella) -General emotional uncertainty and inability to connect with my friends as deeply as I wish I could -Particularly painful classes as a result of disruptive students  History, Christian Studies, (English + Math sometimes) (I've gotten over the initial misery I had with english) -Not having classes with ANY friends beyond my electives not only considering they can have classes together which allows them to have more developed friendships, but also the classes I do have with someone I know (that isn't an elective) I have with Shakira who is far from my first option and who I'm only really 'friends' with because of proximity and the fact she isn't too bad (even if a bit irritating, rude, and fickle) (the only nice thing about having Shakira there is she creates a barrier between me, and To Slo/ biggus (despite the fact they only sit near because she's there)) I tend to avoid recognising this in particular because it evokes the part of my thought process that thinks the state of reality now is what it will always be like (hopelessness) -Dysphoria in those classes not only from the perceived disconnect between my behaviour and the girls but from a general assumed association with the boys (the disruptive students) -The fact that dysphoria makes alot of good things more bitter than sweet for me, which can be disheartening for my friends And also that I'm so consistently upset and emotionally devastated that they have given up on trying to comfort me despite that being what I need so much in those situations -That fucking bald spot -Dysphoria from being apart of the boys sporting class and smelling horrific with sweat (even if I wear more than enough deodorant any smell is far too much) -Even food tech (one of the good classes) take some serious emotional manoeuvring to enjoy since I have to  not stress out Ara Ara too much and adapt to what she wants to do. Being funny whilst not interruptive and not a too masculine way to avoid the emotional distress of potentially not being someone she enjoys being around (and avoid more dysphoria) ALL OF THAT brings more dysphoria when its cross compared with her relationships with Brisket and Paella and MORE dysphoria comes when I see the relationship she has with Mrs F, how she's able to talk to her and joke with her and everything -The general emotional uncertainty that I feel Ara Ara and I have, it feels like they are more and less unhappy with me every other week and I can't decipher which of the thousands of possible reasons that could be, or if its real at all and I'm just entirely incorrect about that. Exams are really an afterthought because they stress my brain out too much to think about the effect they'll have (same with my future (both the good and bad possibilities)) I think it might be a defence or coping mechanism but instead of reconciling and working with that stress I somehow have both an oblivious and aggressively optimistic outlook with a glass half full sort've way. "In less than a week and a half it'll be over" is generally what I try to remember. Not thinking about it much is bad for me because I can't seize every chance I could to study; thinking about THAT too hard will stress me out so I'm trying to just think about studying more instead of how I'm studying less that I should.
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It's not something I can always feel buildup consciously, even if I'm feeling good in the morning I know when a day is going to be bad for me, so anxiety is the hypothesis. (I can also tell what days I'm going to be the most prone to dysphoria) that was most of the points I can remember at this time, though I know there's more stresses and arguments I could make but that summarises my current state fairly accurately.  that being said, I am at home today and my excuse is it's actually better to have the whole day to study (even if I just spent the first few hours rotting)
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surveysand · 9 months
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nine.
What’s the ultimate cake topping? vanilla buttercream. nothing else. Do you prefer to wash in the mornings or evenings? mornings. my hair is super curly and will not cooperate if i don't wash it in the morning. Have you ever walked into a wall? yes, all the time. i am very clumsy. Do you prefer vertical or horizontal stripes? horizontal.
Can you name all 50 American states? yes.
Have you ever ridden a motorcycle? no. What makes you nervous? thunderstorms. i have a severe fear of tornadoes so the minute it starts thundering and lightning, my heart starts racing and i get very anxious. Are you ticklish? very. Do you ever forward or reply to chain mails? no. Have you ever tried to make your own alcohol? no. Is it criminal to wear socks with sandals? people can wear what they want, but i would never do it. If you were to join one of the armed forces, which would it be? none. i would literally rather do anything else than work for the military. If you swapped genders for a day, how would you spend it? have sex. i know that's the typical answer, but i really would like to feel what it's like to have an orgasm with a penis. Have you ever starred in a school play? several. What historical period would you like to live in if you could go back in time? no earlier than, like, the 80s. every time in period, there was always something miserable happening, so i always have a tough time answering questions like these. Have you ever been to see stand up comedy? no. i hate stand-up comedy most of the time. Have you ever needed stitches? no. Do you ever laugh at things you shouldn’t? yes. Have you ever been in a submarine? hell no. i hate the ocean. What would you do if someone proposed to you tomorrow? politely decline. i don't think i'm ready ready to accept. How high can you jump? not very high. Which fictional character do you wish was real? i honestly don't know. maybe boots from dora, lol. Do you like vanilla or chocolate? vanilla. Do you think Barbie is a negative role model for young girls? it can be in some ways, but is positive in others. i think it depends on how a child interacts with it. Do you prefer Honey or Jam? jam. Do you read a daily newspaper? no. Do you own a lava lamp? no. Have you ever been in a hot tub or sauna? yes. Have you ever had chicken pox? no. Do you believe there used to be dragons? no. Who would you want to be with on a desert island? my dog. What’s the worst show on television? no idea. i don't keep up with what's on tv. Who’s your favorite god from ancient history? i don't know many of them. What was the last present you received? not sure. Could you go out with someone who had a child from a previous relationship? no, i don't want kids right now. What was your first alcoholic drink? a wine cooler. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane? arizona. What was your first detention for? i've never gotten a detention. Who was your first kiss? a boy i went to elementary school with. What was the first film you remember seeing at the cinema? the polar express. What nicknames do you have/have had? not gonna answer this for privacy reasons, but i've only had one that my ex-best friend used to call me. Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends? no. Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink? yes. Have you ever carved a pumpkin? yes. Did you ever have a treehouse as a kid? no. Do you plan to vote in the next election? yes. Have you ever appeared on YouTube? no. Have you ever been on radio? no. Do you bite your nails? yes, constantly. it's a very bad habit of mine. Are you much of an adventurer? i can be. it depends on what exactly the adventure contains, but i'm typically down for most things. Do you like your own name? it's okay. How long has your longest ever phone call been? around 15 hours, i think. Have you ever stolen anything? no. Could you ever have an affair with a married person? no. Could you ever split up a couple for one reason or another? no. Do you get hayfever? no. Have you ever planted a tree? no. Do you believe in karma? no. Which celebrity do you find the most annoying? there's quite a few, but the first to come to mind was meghan trainor. If you discovered a new species of dinosaur, what would you call it? probably something reminiscent of my dog's name. i always call him my baby dinosaur, lol.
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jjorbles · 1 year
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(Repost) POWER/RANGERS (2015) fan film shows why grim-dark is grim-dumb
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Note: This article was originally posted February 25th, 2015 on the Agony Booth, which I used to write for. Since that site is sadly no longer with us, I’m reposting my old articles here.
If you’ve been following my writing for a while, you’ve probably picked up that I detest hollow, needlessly cynical, faux-mature “gritty” reimaginings of once colorful and optimistic characters and franchises. It’s a juvenile, self-absorbed misunderstanding of the entire concept of maturity to think that simply being darker makes something better or more complex. And seeing grown men constantly demanding a beloved franchise become more “adult” simply to soothe their own insecurities about still liking something intended for children only robs it of everything they enjoyed about it in the first place.
Lately, the studio most guilty of this trend is Warner Brothers, as you can see in basically every DC superhero film made this century. But they’re far from alone. Star Trek and Spider-Man have gotten the same treatment, and Fantastic Four is next in line. It seems just about everyone outside of Marvel Studios have decided that superheroes just aren’t allowed to be fun anymore.
So with the promise of a Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers movie in 2016, I can’t help but become anxious as I wait to see what form the film will take. Will Saban elect to stick to the fun (if campy) tone that’s kept the TV series going for more than two decades now? Or will they bow to blockbuster trends and give us a drab, joyless, self-conscious drag? Only time will tell.
In the meantime, however, we’ve been given an unexpected gift: a glimpse at a possible future, and a worst case scenario for how a “dark and gritty” Power Rangers movie could end up. Joseph Kahn, the offbeat, eccentric genius behind Torque, Detention, and the best music video Taylor Swift ever made, has released a 12-minute fan film entitled POWER/RANGERS, and like everything else Kahn has done, it’s... something else.
It shows a dystopian future in which Earth has been taken over by the Machine Empire (if you don’t know your Power Rangers lore, the Machine Empire is... well, exactly what they sound like). The Rangers are all grown up and their lives have gone horribly wrong. Blue Ranger Billy has become a weapons manufacturer, Yellow Ranger Trini is dead, Red Ranger Jason was murdered after his wedding to Pink Ranger Kimberly by Bulk and Skull (who later OD on meth), Black Ranger Zack is a fitness guru that spends all his time doing hookers and blow, and Green Ranger Tommy is a wanted man living on the streets.
The main focus is on Kimberly (played by eternal fancasting favorite Katee Sackhoff), who’s being interrogated by Rocky (played by unicorn slayer James Van Der Beek), formerly the second Red Ranger and now an agent of the Machine Empire. Rocky wants to capture Tommy, as he’s suspected of murdering the other Rangers. To say any more would be to spoil the film (in as much as you can spoil a 12-minute movie), but suffice to say, it doesn’t end well for anyone.
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I have to admit, the film threw me the first time I watched it. Being already worn out by so many grimdark reboots of things I love, and apprehensive about the possibility of the same happening to my beloved Power Rangers, the whole thing felt almost like a slap in the face.
Watching Bulk and Skull, two of the most enduring, lovable characters in the show’s history, being portrayed as foul-mouthed white trash who sell out the human race to aliens, murder their friends, and then die of drug overdoses was basically the equivalent of watching Winnie the Pooh go postal on the Hundred Acre Wood. But after watching it through a few more times, it became clear that what I was seeing was not meant to be taken remotely seriously. It’s a Joseph Kahn film, after all. In his own words in the video description, this is his “take on the FAN FILM”.
In an interview with HitFix, Kahn had this to say.
Kahn:
I’ve seen repurposed stuff on the Internet where they take a property that’s serious and make it even more so, like a Batman fan film or something like that, or a video game or whatever. I’ve actually seen stuff like where they’ve taken ridiculous stuff like Mario Brothers, and then tried to make the dark and gritty version, and they obviously play it for laughs. I think the trick that I really wanted to do with this was to make that dark and gritty version that everybody keeps talking about, but really do it. Really see if I could totally accomplish it with essentially a really incredible, incredibly silly property.
In that context, POWER/RANGERS makes a lot more sense. He’s making fun of the fad of grit-ification but taken it to its furthest extreme by playing it completely straight. It’s a commentary not just on the film industry, but also on fan films themselves. I’ve watched plenty of fan films before, and I know that what Kahn is saying is true: many of them take themselves far, far too seriously. In fact, a grimdark Power Rangers fan film was released not long ago, only without any of the irony of Kahn’s version.*
(*I can no longer find the video I was talking about, use your imagination ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
So the fact that Khan’s film is meant as a joke is clear. How effective a joke is debatable, however, because the reactions to this thing have been all over the place. For fans like myself, either the joke didn’t register, or it did and they just didn’t like it. Many others, who either aren’t fans or only casual fans who haven’t watched the show since they were kids, took the thing 100% seriously and seem to think it’s the greatest idea ever. All over the internet, headlines are calling it “badass”, and commenters are saying this is exactly what they want the actual Power Rangers movie to be.
For me, this raises questions about the very nature of satire. To what extent is a comedian responsible when people don’t get the joke? This isn’t a new issue; Remember last year, when Stephen Colbert got called a racist for a joke on his show that went completely over the heads of certain people? Or how about all those guys who saw Fight Club and then went out and formed actual fight clubs, completely missing that the movie was a condemnation of that sort of empty macho posturing?
It’s hard to find fault with the film in this case, because arguably making the point any more explicit would be to compromise it. Part of the joke is that, for the most part, there’s no winking at the camera or transparent self-awareness. It’s taking the most over-the-top extremes and being completely serious in their presentation, which is, in and of itself, the joke. This isn’t a Robot Chicken sketch. It’s an experiment to show just how far the idea of a dark and gritty reboot can go and why it’s ultimately a dumb and futile enterprise.
So I can’t really fault Kahn for being too subtle. At the same time, much like Fight Club, it’s really hard to enjoy the film as a piece of satire, simply because the reaction to it irks me. All I can think is, “A lot of people out there actually, unironically want this,” and the thought just depresses me. If taking this concept to its worst extreme doesn’t show people what a terrible idea it is, what could? And what if Saban and Lionsgate take the response to Kahn’s fan film as a sign that there’s a market for this vision of Power Rangers, and take the actual film in this direction? It’s not out of the realm of possibility. Remember those awful Mortal Kombat web shorts Kevin Tancharoen made that landed him a job making a real Mortal Kombat feature film? (Sure, it didn’t end up happening, but still.)
Joseph Kahn will not be making a Power Rangers movie. He’s openly said he has no interest in it, and that’s for the best. A feature-length version of POWER/RANGERS would be utterly pointless. The joke works as a simple short film, but dragging it out for two hours would get old fast. Better that he’s free to pursue his own projects and interests, and I’m excited to see what he does next. In the meantime, he’s certainly left us with something to think about, if nothing else.
Final thought: I believe the most telling and interesting thing about POWER/RANGERS is that when you get down to it, it’s not really any more “mature” or “adult” than the actual show, despite its aesthetic shift. It may not be safe for kids anymore, but it’s still (very deliberately) mindless junk food. The characters are just as flat and devoid of personality, the premise is just as silly, and the plot is just as nonsensical and formulaic. It’s still mainly an excuse to watch people fight in rubber suits. The only real upside is that the acting is generally better, and the effects are vastly improved. That’s pretty much the film’s ultimate lesson: simply making something darker and more realistic doesn’t improve shit. If anything, it just makes it dumber.
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luvnami · 3 years
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𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 | 𝐖𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 (here) | 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 | 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 - Second part to ‘Ocean’! Hope you enjoy it :> Reblogs, comments, shares and likes are really appreciated!!
𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 - @getousuguruwife​ @amjustagirl​ @aliteama​
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - Amnesia, Memory loss, Blood, Mild gore, Death, Blood loss, Corpses, Food, Manga spoilers, Pre-canon and canon compliant to a certain extent, Nightmares, Relationship Issues (lack of communication), Overthinking/Anxious Thoughts, I criticise Nanami’s choice of clothing
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -  Nanami Kento's life has been... Good, bad, and everything in between. He  (and many others) thinks he's mature, independent, the definition of  what a proper adult should be like. But really, the only way he's made  it this far is because you've been holding his hand the entire time. 
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 5k
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Nanami decides to enter university and get a degree. He casts a life of sorcery behind and turns a blind eye to curses that peer at him curiously on the street. When you text him and ask about how life is in the city of Tokyo, he replies that it would be much better if you were here with him. You choose to ignore the meaning between the lines and tell him that he’ll do great in university; you’re sure of it!
Truth be told, his parents are more than glad to fund Nanami’s ventures and encourage him to do so. As a result, he finds himself engulfed by the world of rigorous studying. Lectures and tutorials drain his time from morning to evening, not to forget project meetings and whatever the hell ‘socialising’ means.
But campus life is invigorating. He wakes up to the smell of coffee and his roommate singing a foreign song with a catchy tune and has time to enjoy a lovely breakfast before he heads off for morning classes. Everything is done in his own time. No one rushes him to save the lives of innocent civilians, nor does the weariness of a day’s fight linger in his bones.
Quietly, gently. That is how Nanami’s time in university goes by. Writing essays on analysing market trends or a project on that sociology elective module he chose is nothing too tricky, especially when one compares it to sorcery. 
He learns to relax, unwinding in the golden hours of the evening with a Murakami paperback and a steaming cup of coffee by his side. Nanami meets new people — people who have never heard what a curse is (though he does find his witchy neighbour intriguing), people who have families at the furthest ends of the earth. Their companionship is refreshing.
You, meanwhile, earn a nice sum from working at Jujutsu Tech. You don’t work directly with curses (something which Nanami is thankful for) and enjoy your time surrounded by nature, treating the younger students with a smile and warm cup of tea. 
You and Nanami decide to move into an apartment where the commute is halfway between both schools. It’s a nice change of pace, really. You wake up next to each other in the blinding morning light, still entangled in the cheap (and slightly scratchy) duvet you got on sale. Nanami presses a kiss between your brows. You smile, your hand warm on his skin. 
“Good morning, Ken,” you croak as the sunlight frames your face.
You lean forward and place your head against his chest. Nanami’s hand strokes your shoulder lovingly as the both of you make small talk on the day’s events, then laughing when he makes a cheesy (and slightly indecent) joke about what he enjoys eating for breakfast. Your heart soars in your chest, catching the upwind and slicing through the clouds. It feels like heaven.
But the sea does not always remain calm and peaceful. Its tides rise and fall with the waxing and waning of the moon, and waves can come crashing down on boats that dare sail through its treacherous waters. 
Nanami buries the constant nightmares of Haibara under his pillow, waking up in the middle of the night with your arms around his waist. He pretends he does not see the curses that linger in the corner of his lecture theatre, nor the ones that stare back in the bathrooms. Nanami slips a pair of spectacles onto the bridge of his nose. His fellow classmates call him intelligent, quiet, but kind. 
He wants to believe that, too.
☆*: .。.
Nanami joins a hedge fund company after graduation. 
“Are you sure that’s what you want to do, Ken?” you ask over the table.
The restaurant you had booked for dinner boasts of its month-long waitlists and seasonal menus. You poke at the raw fish that sits on your plate, Nanami holding a glass of amber liquid. He watches its colour swirl under the dim light.
“The pay is good. We’ll be comfortable.”
“I don’t care about money, Ken. I’d rather you do something less stressful and be happier.”
“Let me try it out for a year or so. That can’t hurt, right?”
He smiles, you smile. 
Your hand slips into his comfortably over the table, and your eyes meet in silent understanding. You squeeze his hand.
The company changes Nanami. Some things are obvious — the way he now parts and combs his hair back with wax, the pressed suits that line your shared wardrobe, the work phone that buzzes with notifications every minute of the day. Others are more… subtle. He comes home later and later each night, occasionally staying over in the office. His alcohol consumption increases. You spend the weekends alone. 
It’s gotten to the point where you’re lucky if you eat dinner with him once a week. You’re busy with your own work, too, but you assume that Nanami would be able to come home on at least the weekends. Your mind begins to drift.
Is there a colleague who wears a skirt too short, a manager who touches his shoulder a second too long? It’s been at least four years since you and Nanami had gotten together, and you still don’t know his stance on marriage or children yet. Does he love you, or does he love his job more? 
You fall into a pit of doubt and despair. Perhaps you should have been a lesser burden on Nanami. He spent so many hours taking care of you back then, wearing himself thin between missions, that the idea of him getting tired of being a caregiver to someone who didn’t remember him at all was… possible; reality, even?
There’s nothing original about you, either. Your handwriting is the same as a girl you’ll never remember from middle school, the way you text influenced by the students you work with. Maybe you laugh too loud. Or you’re too fat, too skinny, too quiet, too noisy, too blunt, too shy, too clumsy. So what made him love you? Or was he just in love with a previous version of you that you weren’t now?
It feels like you’re staring into a mirror when you try to remember who you used to be with childhood journals and photographs. The same face, the same body, memories that don’t make sense and a head that has become a blank canvas. A parent’s child, a teacher’s student. Unable to reach past the glass.
You don’t know who you are anymore with how you’ve changed to please Nanami — a person of personalities that switches in the blink of an eye. So why does he still keep you in his rented heart that’s full of other tenants, and under the contact name ‘Dear ♡’? You place the button in a drawer amongst a mess of spare keys, bits of tissue paper and promotional pamphlets. 
It’s tiring. Nanami’s head is in the clouds as you share a parfait, and you ask him, “Kento, do you really love me?”.
“What?” he asks incredulously. “Of course I do.”
The eyebags that are on his face have been there since two weeks ago. Nanami can’t remember when the last time was when he got a proper night of sleep, and currently, he’s thinking about the new client that-
“Kento,” you interrupt. “You’re exhausted.”
You point your spoon at him for extra emphasis, the tip of it having a dollop of whipped cream. 
“Pointing your utensils around is bad manners.”
“Never knew you cared about table manners.”
“Well, now I do.”
You lick the spoon clean and eye Nanami. He returns a tired stare before his gaze falls to the side and he lets out a sigh. He almost wishes that you would stop bothering him about this and let him go back home. There are so many emails he needs to send, and he can’t sit still without checking the stock market every hour or so. 
“Do you want to break up?”
The words come easier than expected.
“Huh?! What makes you say that?”
“You seem like you want to.”
“You can’t just assume things like-”
The girls sitting by the next table fall quiet. Nanami thinks that they’re eavesdropping on your conversation; you think so too. You glance quickly at them and they pretend nothing had ever happened, hiding their looks of surprise as they shove spoonfuls of dessert into their mouths.
“Let’s go somewhere else.”
You sound irritated. Nanami pays with his card, grabbing his things as you step outside of the cafe first. 
“Slow down,” he mumbles and pockets his wallet. 
You whip around.
“You can’t just assume things like that, Kento.”
“Fine, I’m sorry.”
Staring at him, your eyes seem glazed over. Tired, maybe. Tearing up, maybe. Maybe, maybe. Many maybes. Nanami doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what’s been going on with you, actually. You seem distant, out of reach when you’re lying in the same bed as him. Is it the money; is he making enough to make you happy?
Nanami reaches out and tries to hold your hand (when was the last time he had done that?) when his phone buzzes. He retracts his hand and reaches for his back pocket, but you grab his wrist. He looks at you.
“What are you doing? Let go.”
Irritation laces his voice. 
“Don’t answer that.”
“Are you crazy? It’s from work. I have to.”
“Work this, work that! You spent the last year basically married to your office and the one time we get to go out together, you want to work?”
Your voice is sharp, slicing Nanami’s hazy conscience. He watches as it pools at his feet, a gust of fresh air tickling his skin. He relaxes his wrist and you pull your hand away. Passersby glance at you briefly before continuing their daily commute, not bothering to give you a second glance.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“It’s okay,” Nanami replies. 
The both of you stand in the street, suddenly feeling as if you’ve drifted away from one other unknowingly. Like a boat in the ocean, Nanami rocks with the waves that splash gently on his hull. Everything is blue and vast around him. He can’t see the land. 
Nanami thinks about that girl at the bakery. The way she always cried out ‘Come back soon!’ every time he left as if he wouldn’t return a second time. And then he thinks about the clients he serves, all outfits and jewellery that easily cost half his salary. They shove money into his hands, expecting even more in return without a word of thanks. 
“Hey,” Nanami says. 
He reaches out across the waters and grasps your hand in his. You look up, eyes brimming with tears. He swipes at the corner of your eye with his thumb. Understanding washes over him and he takes a deep breath. 
“I’m sorry,” Nanami whispers sincerely.
That night, he calls Gojo when you’re safely tucked into bed. Nanami tries to ignore how the older sorcerer cackles at him and hangs up once the call is presumably over on his end. He slips under the covers as you turn over in your sleep, resting against his chest. Nanami kisses your brow. 
He gets his first night of good sleep in a long, long time. 
☆*: .。.
Nanami falls back into the rhythm of sorcery. He trains for a good month until he gets his stamina and strength back, obtaining a new weapon from the school for his missions. Gojo seems oddly delighted to see him return, laughing when Nanami’s out of breath from a workout.
“Ken,” you say, wrinkling your nose when he steps out of your shared bedroom. “You’re going to work in that?” 
Nanami adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves, staring at you. 
“Is this not appropriate?”
You observe him from head to toe. The leopard print tie, blue shirt and tan suit — you resist the urge to tell him he’s so close to looking like a pimp. Out of all the lovely suits that Nanami has, he chooses to wear this one?
“It’s a bit bright, that’s all,” you laugh. 
“I thought I would go with something eccentric. You don’t get to wear this at the office,” he remarks, striding over to the kitchen to grab your packed lunches. 
You remain quiet and fiddle with a loose thread on your own suit jacket. 
“Something the matter?”
“Oh! Nothing at all. Let’s go.”
It’s more convenient now since the both of you work at the same place. Nanami drives to Jujutsu Tech every morning and picks you up in the evenings as well. He detests how Gojo makes fun of him for it, calling him a ‘lovely husband’. It makes your cheeks warm, and you duck your head before Nanami can ask you anything about it.
Peace reigns true for a few months. The morning routine is a nice change of pace compared to Nanami’s previous job. You’re able to spend more time together, even to the point of going grocery shopping or watching a movie with takeout on Friday nights.
Nanami relaxes only a little. Compared to office work, this is probably just as bad. First of all, he has to see Gojo almost every day and have him talk his ear off. Secondly, he returns to being the balance between life and death for civilians once more. It’s not a task he enjoys. However, he harbours that the thanks he receives and the lives he saves are a good enough exchange. 
Years come and go, as do students of Jujutsu Tech. Nanami sees more dead sorcerers and exorcises more curses. You quietly type away at a laptop, filing their deaths and completing any tasks you’re given from the higher-ups. It seems that life has slowed down once more and you return to a monotonous pace. 
You wonder if your relationship with Nanami will progress any further. It’s been close to nine years and yet… nothing has developed beyond living together or the odd weekend date. That’s not to say that you don’t love Nanami. You do, honestly. He treats you well and listens to your occasional nagging to put his stacks of books away, but you want something more. You crave the thought of getting married, to be lawfully his and maybe start a family. But, contrary to belief, Nanami isn’t opposed to it when you bring the topic up over dinner one night.
“Marriage?” 
His chopsticks pick off a portion of grilled salmon and he brings it to his mouth with some rice. He chews, swallowing.
“Yeah. I mean, we’ve been together for so long, you know? So it kind of seems natural for us to do so.”
Your gut twists nervously. The steam from your miso soup rises silently in the air, wisps of white smeared out at the edges. 
“Sure.”
“Huh?”
“Sure, let’s get married.” Nanami says.
You have to physically close your mouth and your eyes are widened in shock. Your heartbeat accelerates that much faster.
“Are you serious?”
“Well, were you serious when you asked me that question?”
Heat rises to your face. 
“As you said, we’ve been together and living under the same roof for quite some time. Marriage seems like a plausible idea.”
“Then let’s-!”
“But I have one condition.”
Momentarily, your heart wavers. Nanami finishes the last drop of miso soup in his bowl and balances his chopsticks on top of the porcelain. As usual, his plate and bowls are scraped clean. 
“I’ll only get married after I stop being a sorcerer.”
Your face twists in confusion as you try to understand where Nanami is coming from. You don’t get it — didn’t being a sorcerer mean that Nanami faced death everyday and that he should be taking advantage of what time he has left? But, of course, you don’t mean to curse him into an early grave like that. Except… Except that your face visibly falls and Nanami takes notice of it.
“I’d rather not have my life entangled with curses more than it should be. Once we both earn enough money and have a nice savings account, we can retire and go do whatever we want. Besides, I’ll invest. It’ll be more than enough.”
You remain silent and stare at your half-finished dinner. Nanami reaches over the table and takes your hand in his. 
“Can you give me some more time, please?”
You don’t reply. 
☆*: .。.
“Did you hear about the new first years?”
“Mm. The one who died, right?”
“Gojo wants me to mentor him for a while.”
Nanami’s hands are positioned on the steering perfectly. His palms guide the car carefully through the steep roads that climb up to Jujutsu Tech. You flip through a checklist of things you need to do for the day.
“Will you be heading out of school?”
“Probably. There’s a scene I need to check out.”
“Stay safe, alright?”
“Of course. You too, don’t forget to have your lunch again.”
Nanami pulls into the parking lot of the school. Leaning over the clutch, he presses a kiss to your hairline. You gently peck his jaw.
“See you tonight. I might not be able to pick you up, so get Nitta to drive you.”
“See you, Ken.”
Nanami watches as you open the car door and step out. You turn back, giving him a wave and smile through the window. He returns the gesture. Once you’re out of sight, Nanami pulls out his phone as he sits in the car. He thumbs through his emails and his Adam’s apple bobs as soon as he sees the confirmation sent to him. A loose sigh worms its way out of his chest. He pushes the door open and steps out. 
The rest of the day is spent teaching Itadori Yuuji about the sanctity of being young and simpleminded. Sorcery isn’t child’s play — especially when there are lives involved. He watches as Itadori’s face crumbles at the mention of the transfigured humans. He wants to comfort him, place a hand on his shoulder and tell him that it isn’t his fault.  
They have a quick debrief of the situation with Ijichi before parting ways. Nanami shoulders his burden once more, watching as the car pulls away in the direction of Yoshino’s home. 
As night falls, Nitta drives you home. She’s chatty, serious about her job and does it well. You smile when she gushes about how lovely Nanami must be at home, and, oh! Do tell him to lighten up at work. 
You thank her when she drops you off. As you walk through the lobby of your apartment complex, you make a routine stop by the mailboxes. Junk, bills and… a box? You flip it over to see who it’s addressed to; perhaps Nanami had ordered something online. However, your name is printed neatly across the label.
The first thing you do when you get home is to open the box. It’s small, probably not more than a hand’s breadth in length. Your pen knife slices through the tape cleanly and when you push aside the flaps, you spot two velvet boxes sitting in a mess of paper filler. Your fingers tremble when you pull one of them out and open it. 
A silver ring sits in the furrow of a cushion with Nanami’s name on the inside. Your heart skips a beat and you reach into the cardboard to pull out the second ring box. This one is a little larger, with your name engraved on the interior side of the band. It must be Nanami’s, then.
It’s already well past 6p.m. as you dial his number with your lower lip between your teeth. You pace around the house, bouncing on the balls of your feet. What were these meant to be? Promise rings? Engagement rings? You hadn’t dared to slip the one with Nanami’s name engraved onto your finger just yet.
“Hello?” 
Nanami’s breathing is laboured. Your heart falls and you stop in the middle of your living room, staring ahead at nothing.
“Ken? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just… just a little hurt. It’s nothing serious.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve called Ijichi to pick me up, don’t-”
“So it is serious, then!” you cry out in horror. 
“No, no. I said I’m fine. Look, did you receive the rings yet?”
“I did, but that’s not the point now. Are you safe?”
“I-”
You hear Nanami’s phone clatter to the ground and the thump of his body on the floor. 
“Kento?” you whisper.
He doesn’t reply. 
☆*: .。.
You’re seated on the floor of your shared home, an oversized pajama shirt stolen from Nanami’s closet swallowing you. Sunlight pours in through an open window at two in the afternoon and the quiet hum of vehicles outside can be vaguely heard.
Clip, clip, clip.
One hand holds a nail clipper, while the other cradles Nanami’s fingers gently. The blond watches you absentmindedly while you trim his nails. He had insisted he was perfectly capable of doing them on his own, but the glare you gave him made Nanami sink back into the sofa. 
He was hurt after a fight with Mahito — the wound on his side made him grimace whenever he stood up, and Nanami found himself relying on you more than he wished to. Thankfully, he had passed out from blood loss and pain but nothing too devastating had happened. That didn’t change how concerned you were about him, though. You try to forget how you had hailed a taxi just to rush back to Jujutsu Tech to see Nanami lying in the sickbay with a blood drenched shirt. 
Nanami thinks it’s childish. When was the last time someone had clipped his nails for him? Was it his mother? A warm breeze wrings itself through the window. You run the pad of your finger over the cut edge, feeling for any sharp portions. 
Nanami stares at the top of your head. Your fingers feel uncharacteristically soft against his own calloused ones — wielding a weapon in battle wore his palms down at the end of the day. He doesn’t particularly want to admit he likes it.
Nanami is a man of truth. He hates lying, and definitely doesn’t tolerate beating around the bush. But if he spoke as he thought, told you everything he felt about you as often as it came like the wind, how would you react? He clutches his heart in the aching hand of a budding teenager, the fears of facing a cruel world fresh in his mind. 
Being a sorcerer means facing death on a daily basis, especially with the increase in curses with modern times. It doesn’t help that with both of you on the field, it means double the chances. Sorcerers never die without regrets.
Nanami wishes he could love you more, let you explore each crevice of his heart without fear of leaving you; being left behind one day. He doesn’t want to curse you if he dies. He doesn’t want to become a burden to you any more than he should be. 
Clip, clip, clip.
“Is it too short?” 
You glance up briefly at Nanami and brush the hair out of your eyes. He stares down at his fingers and feels them over with his thumb. He shakes his head.
“No, it’s fine.”
You nod and move on to his next hand. You’re systematical about it — trimming off most of the grown parts in three portions, then a couple tinier clips to finish the job off. A nail file sits on the ground beside you, the tiles of the floor cool against your bare legs.
“Hey, Ken?”
“Hmm?”
“I heard that there’s a new bakery opposite that popular department store. I was thinking of going to take a look later. Do you want me to get anything for you?”
“Nothing too sweet would be nice.”
“Okay.”
The living room falls back into a comfortable silence.
Clip, clip, clip.
☆*: .。.
It takes a few more weeks before Nanami is cleared by Ieri to return to regular sorcery work. He tries to rest in the downtime he has, he really does — but the itch to get up and finish Mahito off has him restless. 
At this, Gojo sends Nanami and you off to Hamamatsu on another curse investigation for a change of scenery. Gojo doesn’t want to admit it, but he had mumbled to you something about taking care of Nanami’s mental health. Maybe the beach would help? You told him he sounded like a doctor from the 20th century. You’re not one to refuse a free trip outside of Tokyo, though, so you and Nanami pack your luggage and troop off to Hamamatsu on the Shinkansen. 
“Thank you.”
Nanami’s fingers curl around the ice cream cone handed to him, the sun scorching his back. It’s too hot for this; for anything, really. He makes a mental note to give Gojo a good stare of disapproval once he returns to school. 
Why did the mission have to be on the warmest day of the year? With how the heatwave makes perspiration trickle down your back, though, the dangers of facing a possible special grade curse is the least of your worries right now.
“It’s so hot!” 
You eagerly lap at the soft serve, savouring the cold, sweet treat. Nanami wanted to take a photo of the ice cream, but- oh well, you’ve begun eating, and the horrendous heat would have probably melted it before he found a good angle, anyways. 
Protected by the shade of a shopping district, Nanami and you had agreed to find refuge for a few hours — the curse could wait till the sun began to set. Besides, it would be more likely to turn up after dark. 
“How does yours taste, Ken?” you ask and peer over at his cone.
He had gotten a cookies and cream flavoured one, despite how you egged him on to try out the local eel flavour. Nanami was not going to ruin his taste buds just like that, thank you very much.
“It’s alright,” he says, licking traces of ice cream off of his lips. “Could do with a little more cookie.”
“Wanna try mine?” 
You stick your cone into Nanami’s face. He’s greeted with your half-eaten soft serve, where your tongue has made a path of its own against the original swirl. He eyes you carefully and you offer the cone to him once more.
“That’s unhygienic.”
“Oh, come on, Ken! We’ve kissed before, sharing saliva on ice cream is nothing compared to that.”
Heat rushes to his face, though Nanami assumes a composed facade. He blames it on the weather without hesitation. Not wanting you to tease him anymore, he leans forward and nips a tiny portion of your ice cream off of the tip. 
“Yummy, isn’t it?”
“Mmm.”
“Want to try mine too?” 
The words leave his lips on reflex. Nanami wonders when he’s begun letting you try his food — when he used to be so adamant that no one could even touch its container or look in its direction (thanks to Gojo’s greedy fingers). You nod excitedly and lick off of a portion. 
“It’s good!” 
What was the first time he had said it to you? Over oden in the winter; over those disgustingly sweet slurpees you insisted on from 7 11? All those small moments that had built up culminated in Nanami’s affection and understanding towards you. The way in which you offer him a bite of your food without expecting anything in return; is that what love is like? 
“You’ve got some ice cream on your face,” Nanami says.
You instinctively use your tongue and try to clean it off. “Did I get it?”
Nanami shakes his head. “It’s on this side,” he replies, pointing a spot on his own face.
You try again, to no avail. Nanami sighs.
“What would you do without me?” he asks monotonously, using the pad of his thumb to wipe it off.
You stand there, frozen for a second when he leans in. His promise ring is cold against your cheek.
“Kento?” you whisper. 
Under the light of the shining sun, he presses his lips to yours, shielding you from warm rays and the glances of passersby with his back. You let out a muffled sound of surprise as you taste cookies and cream, your eyes fluttering shut instinctively. 
Nanami isn’t a fan of public affection. God forbid Gojo see him kissing you, really. But as he leans back and watches your half-lidded eyes stare up at him, he asks himself if you’ve ever received his own sort of love in return. 
A relationship’s all about give and take; but has he given as much as he should have? Has Nanami loved you in a way that matters? Life is a fleeting concept to all sorcerers. Should he die and leave you behind, Nanami wonders if he would pass without any regrets. Did he do enough when he tugged the covers over your shoulders when you fell asleep on the sofa, was there more he could have done even after buying you that watch you had eyeballed for the past few months?
There’s that sort of incompetence that curls up in his chest on sleepless nights, even with you tucked into his side. It makes his head spin and his heart fall into a bottomless pit. With all the eyes of juniors and students that look up to him, Nanami can’t help but wonder if he’s truly as good as everyone thinks he is. Being a sorcerer holds little problem. But what about a lover, a husband?
He couldn’t save Haibara, so how dare he think about…
“Kento,” you swallow. “Ken?”
Nanami snaps out of his daze. “Huh?”
“I dropped my ice cream,” you whisper. 
He swivels his head and spots your cone face down on the sidewalk. His own cone drips down his hand, the melting liquid staining the sleeve of his suit. For once, Nanami’s mind runs blank. 
“Kento? Are you okay?” you ask gently.
“Hey,” he murmurs. 
“Mm?”
Nanami’s careful to avoid the pool of melting ice cream as he steps closer to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear. Your breath hitches as his cologne invade your senses.
“I love you. Let’s get married.”
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greenteaandtattoos · 3 years
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Sunsets and Stitches: A Forest Fire Siblings One-Shot
“Hey, Oscar!” 
The hazel-eyed boy looked up as his name was called. He had been washing some dishes after the rations for the refugees had gone out. He recognized the voice. He spotted a blonde-bushy-haired girl striding over to where he stood. It was Yang. Even though it had been nearly a week since team RWBY - and Jaune - had returned to Remnant and reunited with everyone in Vacuo, Oscar couldn’t help the stab of relief in his chest at the sight of her. 
Sometimes, he woke up in the morning in a panic, fear that their heart-felt reunion had been only a dream. Especially when it came to a certain red-clad girl… The feeling of Ruby’s arms around him, embracing him tightly, was a feeling so foreign yet so unforgettable at the same time. 
“Oscar.” Oscar let out a small huff as a voice reverberated in his head, pulling him from the memory. Ozpin had been interrupting his thoughts and daydreams about Ruby every chance he got, scolding him about getting distracted in a time of war. 
“Hey, Yang,” Oscar greeted, turning his attention to her as she approached. “What can I do for you?” Yang towered over him by a few feet, her wavy hair pulled up into a ponytail and cascading down her back like a field of wheat in the wind, glowing gold in the setting sun’s light. Her lavender eyes were unusually neutral, a change from the usual fiery determination that blazed in them. Oscar frowned and even Ozpin noticed something was amiss with his former student, concern pulsing from the wizard. 
“It seems like you have a problem,” she informed him knowingly. Oscar felt his face redden and anxiety wormed its way into his stomach. Did she know? Yang was Ruby’s older sister, and was very protective of her. If she found out about his crush on her baby sister… He gulped. 
Oz agreed, it might not turn out well. Especially with Yang’s very… vocal feelings towards him. She had forgiven him for hiding his secrets and then abandoning them, but she was still wary of the ages-old wizard, and she wasn’t the best at keeping her emotions to herself. 
Yang raised a hand, and Oscar automatically tensed. However, her hand came to rest gently atop his head. Mischief glinted in her eyes, and a smile spread across her face. 
“Your hair is a mess!” she exclaimed, ruffling his thick chocolate locks. “Have you ever grown out your hair before?” Oscar blinked, allowing himself to process what was going on, then let out an audible breath of relief. Ozpin hummed in amusement. 
He played off his breath with a laugh. “No, never.” He raised a hand and ran it through his hair. He had decided to try and grow out his hair once they had gotten to Vacuo. Ren and Nora had supported his idea, the former giving tips on how to wash it and brush it to keep it from getting tangled. He hadn’t been doing so well, though. The wind blew sand into it on a daily basis and the sun dried it out, bleaching it to a pale brown. 
Yang pulled her hand away and jabbed a thumb at her hair. “Well, lucky for you, I have. C’mon, let’s do something about this travesty.” She began to lead the way into the cool shade of the dorms, where they had all been staying. Once she had gotten Oscar comfy in a chair, she began to ruffle through some drawers and duffle bags. 
He watched curiously as she pulled out a brush, some hair ties, and some other hair products. “I feel the need to warn you,” Ozpin started, his voice light with amusement, “That Ms. Xiao Long takes hair care very seriously.” Oscar smiled nervously as the said huntress dropped everything onto the desk in front of him and began arranging them. 
“What does that mean?” Oscar inquired. “It means that you should probably do exactly what she tells you to in regards to your hair,” was his reply.
“Alright, kiddo,” Yang said, stretching her arms above her head and cracking her fingers. “Let’s get this mess fixed.” 
Luckily, there was a mirror in front of him, so he watched anxiously as she picked up a hair brush and began to brush it through his locks. To his surprise, she was very gentle, starting at the ends, brushing through them with practiced expertise. He hissed lightly as the bristles came into contact with a particularly stubborn knot. 
“Sorry,” she grunted. “The desert has really done a number to your hair.” Oscar scratched at one hand. “I should probably have asked for some hair tips before now, huh” he joked. Yang snorted. “I think we were all worried about more... pressing issues back then.” 
Oscar instinctively raised his hand to run it through his hair - a habit he did whenever he was nervous or embarrassed - only for Ozpin’s warning to come too late and he felt the sting as Yang slapped his hand down. 
“Ow!” he yelped quietly. “Hands down!” Yang barked. “Do you want this to be as painless as I can make it, or not?” Oscar rubbed his hand. “Sorry, mom,” he apologized dryly. Yang hmphed and continued with her work, her mouth twisting in concentration. 
“It might be best to just rest your hands,” Ozpin suggested. “Easy for you to say,” Oscar grumbled internally. Oscar’s uncomfortableness with physical contact was well-known to the others, and he appreciated Yang’s slow strokes and gentle hold, no doubt to try and put him at ease. However, he often struggled to keep himself still, finding too much energy within himself. Holding Long Memory helped calm him, but he didn’t have it with him now. He was trapped between a desk and a dragon. 
He elected to rest one hand on the desk, listlessly playing with the cracks in the wood, and dropped one hand to his shirt. He rubbed his thumb on the embroidered rose that he had asked Coco to stitch onto the hem. He traced the soft curve of the petals and the long stem as Yang worked. 
Yang’s eyes glanced down to where his hand had fallen, her gaze zeroing in on the rose. Her lips thinned. “I don’t think I’ve gotten to tell you that I like your outfit yet,” she said, uncharacteristically cool and controlled. 
Oh, shit, Oscar thought. Ozpin agreed, though chided him for his language as he did. “It seems Ms. Xiao-Long has exercised her powers of observation,” he commented. “This might not end well.”
“Uh, thanks,” Oscar said nervously. Ozpin’s comments did not help. “Coco made it.”
The upperclassman had offered to make Emerald, Ren, Nora, and him new clothes. He remembered going up to her in private and asking for the rose, his stomach as knotty as his hair. She had agreed, and even with her sunglasses keeping her expression hidden from him, he had heard the pity in her voice and the burn of her stare on his back as he left the room. 
“It suits you.” Yang’s complement dragged his attention back to the present. There was a curtness in her voice that made Oscar want to squirm. He began to trace the cracks in the wooden desk with anxious speed. “Yang, I—”
She paused, lifting the brush ever so slightly from his head. “How far along is the merge?” Yang asked suddenly. Oscar’s head drooped slightly. “Far enough,” he said. Yang was silent for a moment, then, “I see.”
Oscar squirmed in his seat in the awkward silence, and Yang placed a hand on his shoulder to still him. “But I’m still me,” he burst out. “I promised that I would do as much good as I could with the time I had left, and I meant it.” Yang’s grip on his shoulder tightened, but not enough to hurt. “And how much good will you do to my sister when you’re gone and Oz is all that is left?” she asked. “Will it be good when you’ve gone and left her with a broken heart?” Oscar wilted. She knew.
“It is for this reason that I told you to find a way to dispel your crush,” Oz pointed out, backing Yang’s argument. Oscar felt anger bubble up in his chest. “No, you told me to forget it because it made you feel awkward,” Oscar retorted. “Perhaps, but—” 
Yang, who had seemingly been waiting for an answer, realized that he was conversing with Ozpin and resumed brushing, which interrupted the two as Oscar jerked his focus back to her. Right now, it was more important that he make her understand, rather than Ozpin. He had argued with over this topic many times before with him, and it always ended the same.
“Yang, I would never hurt Ruby,” he promised, putting as much sincerity in his voice as he could. “I-I really…” He paused, then took a deep breath, remembering Coco’s and Nora’s advice. “Go slow, but be honest and forthright,” they had said. So, that’s what he would do. 
“I care about her,” he admitted, finally sharing his secret. “I would never do anything to hurt her.” He felt the bristles of the brush prick at his scalp. “I know,” Yang said, the bite in her voice softening. “But you don’t really have a choice. Eventually, you will merge with Oz and—”
“Oz doesn’t have anything to do with this!” Oscar burst out. Yang froze, eyes wide. “I’m the one who cares about Ruby, not Oz,” he continued forcefully. “I’ve cut my life short for him, for the world, but I deserve to be able to do something for myself while I still have the chance… don’t I?” Yang stared at him with narrowed eyes, the brush frozen amidst chocolate tangles. She seemed to contemplate his words.
“But does my sister deserve to be left broken when the inevitable finally occurs?” she finally asked after a moment. Oscar closed his eyes, and ignored Ozpin’s attempts to give his input on the matter. 
“Ruby deserves happiness and peace,” he said. He crossed his hands and rested them against his heart. Even months after the torture, the area where Salem had struck him with her magic was still sensitive to the touch. “I just want to help her achieve that.” 
Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Yang watching him intently through the mirror. “You and me both, kid,” Yang said. “That’s all our mom wanted for us.” Oscar’s eyes shot open at the mention of their mother, Summer Rose. Ozpin went silent at the mention of his former silver-eyed student. Blake had shared the secret of the Hound with the others after they reunited at Schnee Manor back at Atlas, and Ozpin had realized fairly quickly what happened to his former pupil. 
Yang let out a small breath. “Since we seem to be spilling secrets today, I might as well share one.” Oscar turned his head to glance at her curiously, only for her hand to stop it and move it back to where it was. She began brushing his hair again. 
“I can’t tell you for sure why our mother left to face Salem like she did,” she started, her voice twisting with emotion. “But, I can give you my best guess.” Oscar felt Ozpin stiffen. “It was because of Ruby.” Oscar had a feeling that was going to be the answer, but he stayed silent, allowing Yang to continue. This was her secret to share. 
“Back then, Salem was still hunting down and killing silver-eyed warriors, not… what she’s doing with them now. I think… I think mom got scared because Ruby was born with silver eyes, and knew that Salem would eventually come for her.”
Ozpin remained silent, but Oscar could feel him emanating complex emotions, mixing with his own. Oscar couldn’t imagine how he was feeling, knowing that his former student had been subjected to a fate worse than death at the hands of Salem, and he hadn’t been able to do anything.
“And so, she decided to strike first, to try to get rid of the danger to her family. But whatever her plan was, it fell through and she…” she trailed off. 
Sympathy surged through Oscar, and finally got a good understanding as to why Yang was so adamant with her feelings toward Oscar’s crush on Ruby. She doesn’t want Ruby to feel the pain of a loved one disappearing again.
Talking wasn’t his strongest suit, but he would be damned if he didn’t find a way to express himself to Yang. “Oscar, wait,” Ozpin warned. “This isn’t a good idea.” Oscar took a deep breath. “You’re wrong,” he told the wizard firmly. “This may not seem like a good idea to you, but it’s what’s best for me.”
He met her gaze through the mirror. Her eyes glistened, though there were no tears. 
“I understand that you want to protect Ruby from experiencing such pain ever again. But so do I,” he told her, conviction strong in his voice. “I promise you, merge or not, I will help protect her. But, she isn’t some helpless girl, either. She knows that the merge will happen.” He paused, thinking back to her . “But she has never seen me as Ozpin,” he continued. “She chose to be my friend, despite my circumstances, just as I chose to remain by her side.”
Yang quirked a brow at his response, and for a moment, Oscar feared that he angered her. Then, she burst out laughing. “Stay friends with you, eh?” Oscar frowned, confused by her reaction. “What, you don’t think we should even be friends?” Anxiety and anger fluttered in his chest. Wanting to protect Ruby from heartbreak by keeping him from admitting his feelings towards her was one thing, but to disapprove of her friendship with him entirely? 
Yang coughed, her laughter dying down. “No, no. If only you two would remain just friends.” She put the brush down on the desk and picked up a hair tie, bright gold in color. “But, you have a point. Your life is your own, and my sister isn’t a baby anymore, not like she was when mom disappeared. Each of you can make your own choices.”  
Though pleased that Yang’s disapproval had lessened somewhat, her words still confused him. “Why did you laugh at the notion that she wants to stay friends with me?” he inquired. “Oh, Oscar,” Ozpin sighed. “And here I thought Ms. Rose was the clueless one when it came to people.” Oscar’s brow furrowed. “Hey,” he scoffed indignantly. 
Suddenly, Yang took a handful of his hair, gripping it hard enough that he yelped. “Really, Oscar,” she said. “Who knew that the one person you misjudge is the one person you like?” Oscar blinked at the connotations. “I-I misjudged that she wants to be friends with me? Has she said something? Does she not want to be friends with me anymore?” He began to fret. Had he done something? Said something? Was he too similar to Ozpin? 
Yang pulled and bunched up his hair into a loose ponytail. “You said it yourself,” she said. “She can make her own choices. Why don’t you ask her?” As Oscar fretted to himself, she slipped the ponytail around the base of the ponytail, then wrapped it around his hair three times, until it stood up on its own. Yang stepped back. “All done!” 
Momentarily distracted from his worries, Oscar instantly reached back to feel it. It was a small ponytail, but it held firm. He checked it out in the mirror. The golden hair tie stood out stark against his dark hair. It seemed to blaze as rays of sunlight struck it, like a ring of golden fire, from where they filtered through the window to his right as the sun sank further below the dunes. “Not a bad look for you,” Ozpin commented. 
Oscar turned to Yang. “Thanks… for everything.” Yang put a hand on her hips, a grateful smile on her face. “No problem. I think we both needed it.” Oscar nodded. A relief had lifted from his chest, though worry over Ruby’s thoughts on their friendship still bubbled in his stomach. 
Yang seemed to notice and patted his shoulder. “Hey, how I feel about your feelings toward my sister doesn’t mean anything, in the long run. As you said, she can make her own choices. If you want to know how she feels, ask her.” Oscar put his hands to his chest, clutching his vest, feeling the cloth rub against the tender, patched skin underneath, and looked out the window. The sun-baked sand turned tawny under the ember-glow of sunset, the desert sky clear and endless.
He turned back to her. “I think I will.” Yang’s body language still told him that she was worried about the situation and the potential consequences, but the familiar lavender fire had returned in her eyes. “That’s the spirit, pipsqueak. You do what feels right to you.” She patted his head again. 
Ozpin sighed. “I really don’t think this is a good idea, but I have my doubts that you’ll heed my advice on this matter anymore.” Oscar puffed out his chest. “I can’t ignore that you’re a part of me,” he replied. “But for now, my life is what is ahead of me.”
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scarlettconfetti · 3 years
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(AHS: CULT) WINTER ANDERSON X FEMALE!READER & PLATONIC!RUDY/VINCENT ANDERSON X FEMALE!READER
summary: headcanons for dating & being in a relationship with winter anderson whilst being best friends with rudy/vincent anderson.
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this is totally self indulgent i am so sorry.
when you met winter, you were walking home from work alone.
you hadn’t wanted to bother your best friend/roommate as he works long hours.
it was dark & you were kinda wary of waking around on your own.
especially when people started cat calling.
you were feeling really uncomfortable until an incredibly striking woman appeared seemingly out of nowhere, swearing & yelling at the cat callers.
she introduced herself to you as winter anderson & offered to walk you home.
you were still wary of letting a stranger walk you home & knew that your best friend would absolutely freak, so you decide to let her walk with you to your friends office.
you talked to her during the walk & admired her unique beauty.
in fact you were sad when you’d reached your friend’s office as it meant that you would have to say goodbye to her.
however, when you did that, she gave you her number.
“I’m free all day tomorrow. If you want to meet me here, we could go & get a drink together or something?”
you accepted her offer & thanked her for walking with you.
winter only left when she saw you enter the building safely.
you gave her a little awkward wave before setting off to find rudy.
you were excited to see her again.
your best friend is dr. rudy vincent.
wlw & mlm solidarity.
you just randomly met him one day & despite him being a bit older then you, you have been friends ever since.
he is practically family to you.
if you have family, he goes with you to visit them for the various holidays.
if you don’t, you have your own traditions together in the apartment you share with him.
you don’t see each other during the day.
he’s at work before you get up & you’ve both gotten in the habit of communicating via notes left stuck on cupboard doors.
you leave each other packed lunches or the wrapped up leftovers from the previous nights meal.
you spend time together when he gets home.
you’ll both settle on the couch & talk about your respective days before ending up watching either a show or a movie.
he always covers you with a blanket in case you fall asleep.
it’s very rare that you fight with him.
you do get pretty annoyed with him when he’s attempted to ‘shrink’ you over the years though.
however, if there is anything wrong you know that you can tell him anything.
if you’re anxious or feeling like everything’s falling apart, he is there to help.
other than providing you with the most comforting hugs, there is this thing you two do together that he taught you very early on in your friendship.
you would link your pinky finger around his & you could tell him anything & everything that was bothering you.
rudy has always been there for you.
when you met winter the very next day, she had noticed you hugging a (probably) taller man in the distance.
“is that your boyfriend, y/n?”
“god, no!” you had looked horrified at the very thought & she had smirked.
“good to know.”
you spent the day together in a cosy cafe.
it was absolutely your first date with her & it was an enjoyable one.
you sat close together on leather couch drinking various beverages & sharing sweet treats throughout the day.
winter is incredibly fun to talk to, you really like her & she definitely takes a shine to you.
she’d rest her hand on your arm or boldly play with your hair (if long enough)
it was a successful first date of many more to come.
you go on so many dates with winter.
enjoying her company.
she kisses you after the third date, which was when you’d actually let her walk you to your home.
her kisses are passionate.
she’ll stroke your cheek with her fingers & kiss you senseless.
you find yourself falling for her quickly.
“I think i love her.”
“It’s only been a month y/n.” rudy had teased you when you had gushed about winter to him.
something you did a lot.
“irrelevant!”
you enjoy long walks with winter & she’ll hold your hand so tightly.
sometimes lifting it & pressing kisses to it here & there.
you love her nails, the colours & designs she choose for them are so beautiful & she’s more than happy to paint yours for you if you want.
“you make it look so easy.”
“i have mastered nail art, y/n.” she’d chuckle as she probably painted your nails to match hers.
you go various protests with her & share similar political views.
keeping each other safe during protests.
winter would fight anyone that would dare touch you.
she doesn’t talk much about her family.
you know that she lives with her brother & that she hasn’t seen the other in a while.
you’ve never met either of her brothers’.
you’ve never even gone to her house & for good reason.
you trust her when she tells you that her brother is someone you don’t want to get caught up with & how she doesn’t want him to know about you.
honestly you just assume that he has to be incredibly homophobic & leave it at that.
which is why she’ll almost always spend the day at your house if you’re not doing something outside together.
she likes it when you do her hair for her & you enjoy styling her long white waves.
you love her outfits & the two of you compliment each other daily.
“you are so beautiful, y/n.” she will tell you after usually greeting you with a kiss.
if you’re sitting together, you’ll play with her hair or her jewellery.
sometimes she’ll share her jewellery with you.
she loves seeing you in one of her long gothic necklaces.
“now i can keep a part of you close to my heart for the day.”
“my god, y/n you are so cheesy.”
winter can actually be incredibly affectionate & protective.
she wants to keep you safe.
she is almost always initiating physical contact.
if she’s not holding your hand, she’s sitting next to you with her arm around your waist.
you call each other pet names.
she is very passionate in every meaning of the word.
which is exactly how you’d almost ended up having sex with winter on the roof of rudy’s car & actually hid in a bush from your best friend when he came out of his office to check on his car.
she likes it when you curl up in her arms & rest your head on her chest.
it was during one of those times that she told you that she loved you for the first time.
she says it a lot after that.
if she is ever said, you will gather her up into toy arms & just hold her for hours.
never letting her go.
when your sad, she’ll press loving kisses to your forehead & hold you close whilst whispering countless reassurances to you & that she loves you.
she made you laugh when she taught you pinky power.
“come on, baby, this is serious.” she had pressed a kiss to your hand.
“I know, i know. it’s just that me & my best friend do something really similar together.”
when the election happens & incidents start to happen in the town, you’re a little freaked out.
but your worries are eased by the separate, but combined efforts from rudy & winter, who becomes even more protective of you than ever before.
it’s a very loving relationship that you have with winter & she would do absolutely anything for you.
a/n: i am actually sorry that i wrote this garbage. i just really love winter anderson & i hadn’t slept in over twenty four hours.
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springsaladgaming · 2 years
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Progress Update 10/16/21
Hey, everyone! Sorry about the progress update being a day late.
Some asshole changed lanes into my vehicle the other day and it’s been one hell of a week. The damage wasn’t that bad and no one got hurt, but it was a hit and run, so I spent the better part of this week frankly too anxious and pissed off to get any work done.
I’ve gotten a little bit of work done on Ninelives, but nothing on Everlight this time around. Nothing super substantial aside from adding to the wordcount. I think I’ve said this before, but when it comes down to getting this Alex scene into Twine, I have a feeling that I’m going to end up cutting a lot of pieces out, but I guess we’ll see!
A little bit of coding talk... I started out learning in ChoiceScript with very limited coding experience. (I knew some HTML and CSS from my teenage years, but that’s about it and doesn’t really apply to ChoiceScript at all.) Because of my inexperience, my coding in ChoiceScript has been, frankly, sloppy. Even as I continued working in it and learning more, I developed some bad habits that I elected not to change because I knew I would be switching to Twine, and I’m definitely paying for that now. (For example, it never really occurred to me when I started that I could break chapters into smaller files, so it is an absolute nightmare to go about editing or revising code in the longer chapters.)
But because of Twine’s layout, it will be much easier to work on large branching scenes like this one, so I might not have to cut out as much as I’m thinking right now. The ability to visualize the branches and have everything in literal separate boxes means I can get a bit more complex with certain types of branches without getting confused during the writing process.
I also want to talk a little bit about my NaNoWriMo project just because I’m kind of excited to take a break to work on something different for a short while. Of course, I know you all didn’t follow me for that project, so I’m sticking it under the cut at the end of this post so you don’t have to bother with it if you don’t want to!
I hope everyone has a lovely weekend and stays happy and healthy! ✨
I’ve decided to try my hand writing something totally sci-fi, which I don’t do very often. (The last 100% sci-fi thing I wrote was nearly ten years ago.)
The overarching plot of the story is a mercenary starship crew having a sort of furlough on a station colony widely regarded as a neutral zone. The systems rapidly begin to fail and the crew has to escape or die. There are six main characters, all with their own subplots that add extra hurdles to the team’s escape.
Though I’m not big on super detailed outlines, I’ve got the characters and their subplots fleshed out as well as bullet points of the major story beats. There is some Sinking Ship Scenario, Regretful Traitor, Trapped with Monster Plot, and Benevolent A.I. tropes in generous amounts in this story (inspired by a lot of different pieces of media that I love) and it will be fun to mash them all together.
It will be in limited 3rd pov, but I might have each chapter zoom in on different characters or I might stick to the character that I originally designed to be the central protagonist; I haven’t decided yet. But it will be refreshing to work on something without code (which has the tendency to slow down the writing process quite a bit sometimes).
To anyone who actually indulged me in reading this far, thanks! 💕 I haven’t been this excited for NaNoWriMo in a very long time. It’s a good feeling!
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danieyells · 3 years
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Messy mutterings about Chapter 55 spoilers with a small angst warning, copypasted from discord with little cleaning and edits lol
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I'm imagining Raphael sent Luke away so he wouldn't interfere with him killing/fighting Michael and Simeon went along with the idea and is in the human world too so Luke's not, y'know, on his own in a strange new world and to reduce Luke's suspicion and all. But as Michael and Raphael are fighting or whatever Luke somehow learns what's going on/realizes why things are off and rushes home to try and stop it.
He tries to get between Raphael and Michael(perhaps his back, Raph perhaps striking while Michael is lost in thought missing the brothers, spaced out, staring at the wall where their portraits were) and is struck violently by Raphael's spear instead. Simeon, ofc, followed him home to try and protect him but is too late because of Luke's own determination to protect Michael bonus if he grows a little in this scene--just magically, because his current smol form is too weak to help surely but if he were a little bigger, a little stronger, maybe he could make it in time--!! and Luke is impaled.
He doesn't die but none of the three wanted Luke hurt in this confrontation--Michael is angry at Raph for attacking/being violent in the first place, Raph is mad at Simeon for failing to restrain Luke, and Simeon is like is now really the time for this because hello Luke is hurt.
Angels are made of strong stuff, he's not gonna die but he'll be in a bad spot if they don't get him to an angel who specializes in healing. I've elected this to be Uriel for now although I've been told that Raphael is generally percieved as the angel of healing--but with OM canon his reputation sonfar is so hostile I'm gonna say that may not be the case. Michael (or Raph) can stave things off for a bit but he's not healing specialized either--they're all Archangels and Seraphs but their fields are elsewhere, mostly combat.
(Luke tries to assure that he's fine and attempts to remove the spear. They don't allow this because the spear is, of course, keeping most of his blood in at the moment.)
They can't fly him to someone because it'd be bumpier so they have to carry him or call/run/send for help--so other angels do learn what's going on and speculation begins. Luke is hospitalized and Raph and Michael and Simeon stay with him while he sleeps, kinda tensely, not really ready to talk out whatever happened. But before he passed out Luke tried to tell Raphael not to fight/kill Michael, to talk to him instead. He wanted to tell him to talk to the demons/humans too, they're not as bad as they think(he and Raph are very likeminded so he thinks 'maybe Raphael will listen to me since I'm starting to see that I was a little wrong maybe') but he couldn't get it out.
Simeon messages the demons, Solomon, and MC and says he won't be returning to the human world/devildom for a bit because Luke was hurt in the CR. Mammon, having had recently gotten attached to Luke, is stunned and angry and anxious and wants to know what happened. Simeon isn't ready to tell them yet, and Mammon demands Barb make a portal to the CR for him to check on Luke--surely Barb is also worried because he cares for Luke too!
Diavolo says they're not allowed to go and Barb agrees(he felt as much before Diavolo said anything too.) Simeon agrees because there's some unrest now and speculation and with an exchange student angel having had been injured by a notoriously demon-skeptical Archangel some angels are worried the demons may be involved in this somehow and if demons suddenly showed up it'd make things worse. Mammon curses his helplessness because his new little brother minion is hurt and he can't even check on him. Simeon feels helpless too--he's an archangel, a Seraph, but he can't help Luke either.
I imagine MC then offers to visit instead--they may be a powerful sorcerer now but they're still just a sheep human with an inhuman aura right? They wouldn't be as concerning for the general populace. After some consideration the demons and Solomon agree this would be okay, as does Michael and Simeon [and Raph maybe] but they say to wait a few hours/a day or two before doing so, just to allow some cooldown/recovery in the CR.
(In the meantime Mammon reviews one of Luke's recent text chains to him where he's baking something. He tries to copy all the steps and instructions and clumsily makes some cupcakes. They're ugly and Mammon isn't known for his stellar cooking, but they kinda relieve him a bit and Beel says they taste alright, so Mammon asks MC to bring them to the CR for Luke for him--there's enough for Michael too since he's probably going through a hard time. It's not like he cares or anything!! He's just building up credit! They'll owe him with interest when this is all said and done!!!)
Idk what'd happen afterwards--it's probably the first time MC meets Raph so it's not under the best circumstances and he definitely wouldn't trust sweets from a demon. And even if he was gonna fight/kill Michael he doesn't trust that Mammon would give him anything safe and instinctively would tell Michael not to touch them, let alone Luke if he's awake to do so. So it's not like he hates Michael, he just. Things need to change and he tried to incite it the only way he knows how--or, rather, the most effective way, given how quickly things changed after the Rebellion. A spear to the throat makes anyone listen. A rebellion is what made Michael change, so maybe it will help him go back to normal too.
(Maybe Luke is awake enough to hear them talking about these things and weakly asks if Raph is going to be exciled over this--the first thing he says since passing out. They're surprised because. He got injured trying to protect Michael but he's still trying to protect Raphael, Michael's assailant? But Luke understands how Raphael feels because he feels the exact same way--or he used to. He didn't trust demons or humans or sorcerers or the exchange program, he didn't think they should get along at all. And he saw how sad Michael was without the brothers and hated them for that too--and Raph feels the same way, right?
Angels are all family. Raphael, Michael, Luke, Simeon, even when they disagree, when their views don't align due to time and perspectives and experiences and ages and positions, they're all brothers. And Lucifer and them were their family too. Even if they disliked them or how they behaved, even if they resent their rebellion and its effects they were still family and they loved and cared about them.
And Raphael doesn't want to see Michael hurting anymore either--certainly not over people who don't care anymore, certainly not over people who turned on them and Father, who must hate them as well. . .but he's been with the brothers for over a year now. Maybe two or three at this point. And he may have only learned it recently but. . .they haven't forgotten. They probably don't hate them. And the demons, the humans, even those unfaithful and the practitioners of dark magic, the fallen, they're not as bad as they thought. They're not necessarily their enemies. Raphael doesn't know it like Luke does because he's never left the CR aside for war and maybe visiting the human world briefly too, right? But if he'd consider things differently, if he's allowed a chance to learn, Luke himself promises Michael, promises Father who's surely watching as he always is, that he'll understand. Raph made a rash decision albeit after many many years of consideration-- but it was out of ignorance, so please forgive him and give him another chance and don't excile him? On top of that he needs a chance to learn and do better--imagine how he'd feel, being turned into something he hates or fears? It will help him learn, sure, but it also may only make him feel worse or make him do something more rash or result in another Fall if he has supporters.
Raphael doesn't hate Michael--he just wants things to be different. Perhaps to go back to normal. And he doesn't want Michael to mope over the loss of the seven brothers and Lilith anymore either.
And maybe in this time, since they'd have to decide what to do about Raph, Michael requested Diavolo come over too--y'know, in case Raph is exciled, they'd want Diavolo's approval and reassurance to keep an eye on him too. So maybe he or Barb, as they arrive in the room, would approve of Luke's appeal--ask what Michael and Simeon And Raph and MC think. They could always bring him in as an exchange student too! 😘 That worked for Luke!
Ultimately Raph probably wouldn't be exciled/become a Fallen but be given another chance. Maybe he's stripped of his title temporarily, until he's sufficiently deemed to learn about demons, angels, their history together, culture, whether or not they can get along, etc--so he's bitter, but thankful. And Michael understands that perhaps he's been allowing how much he misses the brothers and Lilith to cloud him and maybe it's time to move on and make changes to the Celestial Realm again after all this time. Bonus points if the bros came along and he was too distracted to sense them--someone's like "oh you're moving on? So we came here for no reason after all?" and ofc he's happy to see them again and gets to hang out with them again for a while before getting to say a goodbye with more closure. And he hangs off of Lucifer's neck the whole time they're there lol he and Dia bond over being Lucifer fanboys too.
Luke's okay in the end--a little worse for wear because being stabbed by Raphael is Not A Small Ordeal but he's okay and he shows a little more maturity. But he's also still same old Luke who will happily point out how awful demons are and use it as an excuse for distrust/fear--but he's more mindful of it now because he feels like he needs to set a good example for Raph lmao.)
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gaygryffindorgal · 3 years
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Chapter 1: What Lies Ahead
Summary: A new year is starting at Hogwarts and Verna Malinda is entering her fifth year. She may have a little too much on her plate for the upcoming year though, because she’s been elected prefect...
Pairings: Eventual OC/Merula Snyde
Word Count: 2.5K
Warnings: Mild swearing
A/N: Matthew Luther belongs to @hphmmatthewluther
As this is a rewrite, some of the dialogue is from the game either directly, or modified to fit the new narrative.
If anyone is interested in being tagged to new upates, let me know!
(Verna was born in December 1972, so she was 13 during the autumn term of her 2nd year)
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Chapter 1: What Lies Ahead
Verna Malinda had been anxiously awaiting the beginning of her fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, even with a detention of indeterminate length looming in front of her. She knew in her heart that this year was going to be important, and not just because of the O.W.L. examinations but because of the events of last June, and the chance of finding Jacob in the next vault. For Verna, summers had, for the past four years, felt like an inescapable limbo. Every year she longed to be back at Hogwarts, delving into the mystery of the Cursed Vaults. This year, however, she had been elected as a prefect to her great surprise. She hadn’t really considered prefectdom as something to aspire to, because all her time was spent either breaking the rules or planning to break them. Was it really appropriate for a Hogwarts prefect to be serving detention? Mysterious were the ways of Professor Dumbledore.
~
As the Hogwarts Express whistled as a signal for departure, Verna waved to her father from the train’s window and then turned to her friend, Rowan Khanna, the one out of the two of them who should’ve been the prefect. Rowan pushed their glasses up their nose and smiled.
“What is it?”
“I ought to go find Charlie,” Verna said as the train picked up speed. She’d been feeling all kinds of weird about talking to Rowan ever since she got the letter proclaiming her prefect. It had been Rowan’s ambition to claim that spot ever since year one, and somehow Verna had managed it even though she hadn’t even tried.
“Alright, I’ll find Ben. We’ll hold a spot for you, if you get a moment to come sit with us,” Rowan replied and the two headed their separate ways. So far it didn’t seem like Rowan was holding Verna’s election as a prefect against her. Even in their letters, Rowan had only seemed supportive and proud. They had been friends since first year, and Verna hadn’t exactly stolen Rowan’s spot on purpose. In fact, she was fairly certain she had entirely too much on her plate for this year even without being a prefect.
~
Once Verna located Charlie Weasley, Gryffindor’s resident Dragon-enthusiast and Quidditch hero, and as it happened, her fellow prefect, the two of them headed to the special carriage meant for prefects and the Head Boy and Girl.
“What in Merlin’s name possessed Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall to make you and I prefects?” asked Charlie, sounding genuinely confused, although in his defence, it was truly baffling.
“I have a theory that it’s to make us so busy we won’t have time to do any curse-breaking,” Verna reasoned.
“Bill’s a prefect and he’s had plenty of time,” Charlie argued but then added: “Though maybe that’s why he became the Head Boy… Wow, actually you might be right.”
“Thanks Chaz,” Verna laughed as the two entered the prefect carriage. It was already quite packed with new and old prefects, as well as Bill and the Head Girl, Ella Higgs.
“Are we late because I had to wait for you…?” Charlie whispered and Verna shushed him as Ella and Bill started to congratulate them on their achievement. Verna locked eyes with a certain Slytherin student across the carriage. Apparently Merula Snyde had also become a prefect. Verna should’ve expected as much. Her hair looked tousled as usual, but she had elected to sport a dark eye-makeup, which somehow made the purple of her eyes look even more prominent. Merula gave her a look of loathing and then promptly ignored her. Verna’s mood sunk.
“Hi Verna!” came a greeting from among the other fifth-year prefects. It was Matthew Luther, a Ravenclaw chaser who had given Verna a run for her galleons last quidditch season. Verna was pleased to see not only complete arseholes had become prefects.
“Hey!” Verna replied, taking her place among the others.
“Hi Luther,” Charlie whispered, smiling.
“Nice to see you two made it as prefects.”
Verna was about to answer but was quickly silenced by Bill who very deliberately raised his voice and started his introduction to the wonderful world of prefectdom, looking at the three of them meaningfully.
~
After nearly an hour of instruction, Bill and Ella bade them pleasant journey and reminded them of their job to patrol the corridors in regular intervals. After that, many returned to their friends or settled down in the prefects’ carriage. Bill walked up to Verna and Charlie.
“Congrats on becoming a prefect Verna!” he said and slapped her arm for good measure.
“Thanks, I’ll be sure to be as responsible as you, William.”
Bill laughed and Charlie rolled his eyes.
“Well, I for one think you two will do just fine,” added Bill.
“If you say so…” Charlie mused. “Should we find Rowan and Ben?” he asked Verna.
“Yeah, see you later Bill!”
“Remember to patrol the corridors! And don’t abuse your power!” Bill called after them as Verna and Charlie headed back to find the compartment their friends were sitting in.
“I don’t think he actually has as much faith in us as he lets on…” Charlie said.
“Yeah, probably not. After all he lives with you, and I’m the one who roped him into this curse-breaking stuff in the first place.”
“Yeah, at the ripe old age of 13.” reminded Charlie. Verna was really starting to doubt Professor Dumbledore’s judgement.
~
Rowan and Ben had found a carriage and reserved spots for them. The two seemed in good spirits and Verna felt much more relaxed. If Rowan was on her side, then everything was going to be okay. Even Ben seemed to be okay, even after he was used to attack Verna under the imperius curse last year.
“How was it?” asked Ben as Verna and Charlie took their seats. He glanced quickly at Rowan, who nodded encouragingly. Verna figured Rowan and Ben had been discussing the incident before she and Charlie arrived. The food trolley had passed ages ago, so Verna nicked a treacle tart from Rowan who gave her an exasperated but amused look.
“Pretty standard stuff, honestly. They explained everything we were told in the briefing about prefects at the end of last year,” explained Charlie.
“Who else was elected?” Rowan inquired.
“Oh you’ll never guess Slytherin’s-“
“Merula,” Rowan said before Charlie could finish.
“Yeah, and she seemed right pleased about it too, I bet she’s gonna have a blast abusing her position,” Verna grumbled. She really was not looking forward to yet another thing to compete over with Merula.
“Not if we abuse our position first,” Charlie said, grinning.
“No,” Rowan admonished them when they saw Verna’s matching grin.
“I’ll disown you both if you sink to her level.”
Both Charlie and Verna stopped grinning.
“Sorry Rowan,” Verna said bashfully. “We’ll try our best to make you proud.”
Rowan groaned in mock-annoyance, and all four of them laughed at the absurdity of the notion of Charlie and Verna as prefects. Even Ben. Verna’s hopes for the year were rejuvenated a little.
~
The rest of the journey went by in a relatively normal manner. Verna and Charlie patrolled the corridors every now and then but didn’t face any incidents. Tonks gave them both grief about becoming prefects though, and loudly announced that this is why she had trust issues. Verna couldn’t exactly blame her, they had after, pulled pranks together in the past and prefects had a well-earned reputation of being spoilsports. After sunset, the train arrived at the Hogsmeade Station and Charlie and Verna were again required to perform their new duties. Verna hadn’t really thought about how small the first years looked until they all filed out of the train and followed Hagrid to the boats. It wasn’t that long ago she had been in their shoes, completely terrified and anxious to start looking for her brother. Jacob. The thought stung like a wasp. It had taken four years and she was no closer to finding him as she was to finding the next cursed vault. Jacob had always been there to protect her and help her and what good was she, if she couldn’t do the same for him?
~
The Great Hall was all decked out for the Welcome Feast when they entered. Verna always felt a sense of belonging at the sight of Hogwarts, but it was also always mixed with something like dread. This year instead of Professor Dumbledore, it was Professor McGonagall taking the podium to hold the traditional speech after the Sorting. Apparently, the Headmaster was on an errand outside of Hogwarts. They were also going to have a new teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts, which at this point surprised no one. The new DADA professor did surprise Verna, though. It was Madam Rakepick, the curse breaker Dumbledore had hired to investigate the vaults last year. Rakepick turned her eyes to Verna and something passed across her features, but Verna couldn’t place the expression. Then, just as fast as it had arrived, it passed, and McGonagall bid everyone dig in their food.
~
After the feast, as Verna and Charlie were getting ready to herd all the new Gryffindors (including Bill and Charlie’s little brother Percy) to their common room, Penny walked up to them, looking excited.
“Hey!” she beamed and tailing behind her was a small blonde girl who looked very much like Penny. “How was your summer?”
“Oh, you know, researching advanced curses, eagerly awaiting for my detention this year, the usual” Verna joked.
“I worked on my extra credit stuff for Professor Kettleburn,” Charlie said. “And hung out with my siblings. Fred and George have gotten it into their heads they wanna be the best quidditch players in the world and I have to be their coach.”
“That sounds really nice! We need to catch up more later, I just wanted to introduce you two to my sister, Beatrice,” Penny exclaimed, and the younger girl waved her hand at them.
“Hi,” she said, rather excitably.
“Hi Beatrice, I’m Verna and this is Charlie.”
Next to her Charlie smiled wide and shook Beatrice’s hand. It seemed to Verna that she appreciated being treated like a grown-up.
“Figured you were Penny’s sister when they called Haywood during the Sorting,” Charlie said.
Beatrice nodded. “And now we’re both in Hufflepuff! I was hoping for it, but I would’ve been happy with Gryffindor too.”
“Bea is… sort of a fan of yours,” Penny explained looking at Verna. “She’s always asking me to tell her stories of my adventures with the famous curse-breaker Verna Malinda.”
“Now I can join you!” Beatrice said. “To find your brother and the cursed vaults.”
This, admittedly, took Verna by surprise. She glanced at Penny who, by the look on her face, had not expected this either.
“Bea…” Penny whispered.
“I mean it, I want to help,” Beatrice insisted.
“Well… Maybe you can help with some small things, but I’ll be honest with you, it’s really dangerous stuff,” Verna told the young witch and hoped that was the end of it. No such luck.
“You investigated the cursed ice when you were just first-years,” Beatrice protested.
“That’s… true…” Penny admitted but didn’t look happy about it.
“And Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who when he was just a baby!”
“She has a point, you know,” Charlie cut in.
“Knock it off, Weasley. There’ll be plenty of time for death-defying adventures when you’re older Bea, for now you can just show Verna what you made for her,” Penny said with a glare at Charlie, who seemed vaguely apologetic.
With only a little complaining, Beatrice presented Verna with a yellow, self-made puffskein toy. It was extremely cute, and the gesture made Verna wonder how much Penny had exaggerated her stories.
“Thank you, Beatrice, this is super cool,” she said as she inspected the stuffed animal. After that, she was served to a story about shaving the Haywoods’ pet puffskein every week for the hairs to make the toy, after which Penny had clearly had her fill, because she whisked Beatrice away and Charlie arched an eyebrow. “Wow, they really do just keep getting smaller.”
~
Up in the Gryffindor Tower, the young students were excited but obviously tired, so Verna kept her introduction short and let them explore on their own or just go to bed. After that, the two new prefects made their way to their favourite corner of the common room. The couch there was already occupied by Rowan and Ben.
“Hey guys,” said Ben meekly behind his new Charms textbook.
Charlie squished into the vacant spot between Rowan and the armrest, while Verna sat on the floor, not bothering to drag the nearest chair closer.
“I think I’m going to possibly have a mental breakdown this year,” she mused. “I mean I still have to find my brother, do normal homework, play Quidditch, study for O.W.L.s, and now be a prefect.”
“If you had started studying for the O.W.L.s first year like I told you, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” Rowan simply said. It’s not like they were wrong, but Verna still rolled her eyes.
“Literally no one else but you does that, Rowan” Charlie jumped into her defence, which Verna appreciated. She fist bumped Charlie over Rowan’s lap.
“You two are impossible,” Rowan said warmly and turned to look at Ben. Verna followed their gaze and noticed Ben looked distinctly uncomfortable. Well, more than usual.
“Ben…” she started.
“I just wanna say I’m sorry,” Ben blurted out. “I know you already said it’s fine last year, but I don’t think it’s fine. I’m too easy a target to use against you, and I don’t think you should include me in your plans anymore.”
Verna stared at him for a moment, trying to find words. Any one of her friends could’ve been used as a pawn by a dark wizard. After all, they were only students up against adult wizards.
“Ben, I get it. I’d probably feel the same way if it was me in your shoes right now, because it easily could be. You’re not weak for losing against an adult.”
Ben bit his lip nervously. “But I-“
“We need you. You’re one of my best friends and nobody blames you for what happened,” Verna countered before Ben could form a proper argument.
“In the train you lot acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary when everything is!” he slumped against the couch and let the textbook fall into his lap. “I’m going to bed.”
With that, Ben got up and disappeared into the boys’ dormitory, his friends’ pleas falling on deaf ears. Verna looked at Charlie and Rowan.
“Maybe he just needs some more time…” Charlie mused.
“I think I was too harsh on him last year,” Rowan said. “I apologized though. In the train. We had a whole chat about it.”
“I’m glad,” Verna said with a smile. It hadn’t felt right, when Ben and Rowan weren’t on speaking terms.
“He just hasn’t had the easiest time at Hogwarts,” Rowan continued. “And all this business with the vaults… I think it has us all on edge.”
“Understatement of the year…” muttered Charlie.
“Well… It’s only the first day of it, we’ll have plenty of time to make more understatements,” said Rowan gloomily.
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