#u don’t know how many times i was either cancelled or ignored trying to get a script book | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

etherrreal · 3 years

Text

“resentment”

Pairing: oikawa x fem!reader Genre: angst Summary: you used to love oikawa’s determination, his drive, his willingness to give his all and sacrifice everything to get the things he wants. now those are the same things that make you resent him. WC: 6,700 Warnings: lots of angst, explicit language, reader’s kinda petty but so is oikawa, relationship isn’t toxic or anything but it could def be better A/N: shoutout to @shadowkunoichi for this request! your ask gave me enough serotonin to last for the rest of the week <3 it’s also important to note that the moment i saw oikawa’s smug ass face on screen my brain and heart immediately went “this the one” so here’s some pain ft. my favorite setter -Dawn

The first few times Oikawa cancels your dates for extended volleyball practice, you tell yourself it doesn’t bother you. You’re disappointed, of course –you barely see him enough as it is, despite living together for three months, despite dating for a total of eight– but it’s not the end of the world. It’s just another compromise you have to make, and it probably won’t be the last.

That’s what relationships are about, anyway, you remind yourself firmly, whenever the silence of your too-big for one person apartment starts to get to you. Compromise.

You’re no stranger to compromise, either. You can’t be, not when you’re dating a pro-athlete. You know better than anyone how talented Oikawa is, how admired. He’s worked so hard, and you’re so proud of him. You may not know much about sports, but you do know that your boyfriend has an amazing career ahead of him.

And while the selfish part of you would like to keep him all to yourself, you also know it won’t always be possible, and you tell yourself you’re okay with that. You love Oikawa, and you support every single one of his dreams, even if doing so means you have to eat dinner on your own sometimes.

It won’t always be this way, you tell yourself. It’s just for now. And it definitely doesn’t mean he loves you any less.

That’s what you tell yourself.

It helps that he’s always sorry about it. You hear it in his voice whenever he calls you to tell you he won’t be home until late, see it in the guilty way his eyes search for yours through the screen when he FaceTimes you to let you know you shouldn’t wait up for him. He’s even more torn up about it than you are most of the time, blowing your phone up with apologetic voice notes and text messages with too many emojis.

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: babe 😔😔

[you]:: yes baby?

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 😔😔😔😔

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 😩😩😭😭

[you]:: oh boy

[you]:: you’re not gonna be home in time for dinner, are you?

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i don’t think so 😩😔 we have that game coming up so we’ll be practicing all night

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i’m so sorry baby ☹️☹️ but i’ll have to miss dinner again 😭😭

[you]:: it’s fine, i’ll just find someone else to share my chicken with

[you]:: speaking of, u have ushiwaka’s #? i wanna see something

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: STOPPPP 😭😭 i’m sorry!!!

[you]:: allegedly

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: stop 😭😭 i mean it!! i love you pls don’t hate me 😩☹️

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i’m really sorry babe ☹️☹️

[you]:: if ur apology doesn’t include dollar signs then i don’t wanna hear it

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: check ur email

[you]:: ??

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 👀😇

You check your email, and sure enough, there’s a gift card there to your favorite clothing store, along with a note that reads “financial compensation for putting up with me <3 also if u ever share chicken with ushiwaka i’ll cry and then die so pls don’t.” It makes you laugh so hard you forget about being upset with him in the first place.

[you]:: i was joking!! u didn’t actually have to send me anything u weirdo

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i know 😇😏😘

And when he does make it home that night with an apology on his lips, a bouquet of flowers, and a promise that he’ll make it up to you, it’s hard to do anything else besides forgive him. Because you know that no matter how crazy both of your schedules are, no matter how lonely you might feel without him at your side, he loves you more than anything, and you love him as much in return. And for a while, that’s enough.

Until it isn’t.

You’re thankful to have successfully made it through your first year of grad school with just a caffeine addiction and minor bags under your eyes, but not having to attend your classes or meet with your professors over the break means you’re at the apartment a lot more. You still have your job, but it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore Oikawa’s absence.

It’s not just dates he’s missing anymore. It’s family events, outings with your friends, getaway trips the two of you planned weeks in advance.

You know it’s not his fault. He has things he wants to accomplish, goals he set for himself long before he met you. The Olympics are coming up, and he needs to be ready. You can’t blame him for staying late to get in some extra practice, or for having to attend events with his teammates and his fans instead of you.

You can’t blame him for any of it, at least not without feeling selfish and unsupportive, and somehow that just makes it worse.

It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to build up the courage to talk to him about it. You almost don’t want to bring it up at all, but after weeks of missed dates and apology bouquets, of waking up without him and going to sleep before he gets home, you crumble. You don’t think you can keep grinning and bearing it anymore, not without starting to resent him.

You confront him while he’s sitting at the kitchen island in the middle of your shared apartment. It’s rare he doesn’t have a game on the weekend, even rarer he gets to spend the afternoon with you. It almost makes you reconsider –will this ruin your time together?– but you hold fast. You know that if you don’t bring it up now, then you probably never will, and you’re not sure you can take that much more silent heartache.

Oikawa, for his part, does well to listen as you speak. He watches you intently, pretty brown eyes soft and searching, as you tell him about how neglected you’re feeling, how lonely.

You know he’s not doing it on purpose. You know he’s meant every single one of his apologies, and that this is what you signed up for when you agreed to be in a relationship with him. And you love how driven he is, how determined he is to succeed.

You just...you miss him. That’s what it boils down to in the end: how much you miss him. You miss him now more than that time he left to spend a month back home in Japan while you stayed in Argentina, despite the fact that you’re in the same country this time, despite the fact that you share the same apartment. It shouldn’t be possible, but it’s true.

“I know your career is important, and I would never try to get in the way of that,” you tell him, quietly, tiredly. There’s an exhausted air around you he’s never seen before, the kind of whispered sadness that breaks his heart. “But sometimes, Tooru...sometimes it feels like I’m dating a ghost. And I’m not mad at you, or angry, I’m just...lonely.”

You finally look at him, and the emotion in his eyes startles you. He’s actually tearing up –“you’re such a crybaby,” you like to tease him when his eyes water during sad movies, but you always comfort him anyway– and it’s enough to make your eyes fill with tears, too. He looks so sad, so broken, like knowing he’s hurt you –even if it’s been completely unintentional– hurts him too.

He’s quick to stand and walk over to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You return the embrace, resting your head against his chest while one of his hands moves to cradle the back of your head.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers into your hair, and you can tell by the way his voice shakes that he means it. “I know things have been crazy lately, but that’s no excuse for leaving you here alone. I never want you to feel like you’re anything besides the most important person in my life. I love you so much, and I promise I’m going to fix this. Things will get better, I swear.”

And in that moment, you believe him. You trust him, after all, and you know he doesn’t make promises he can’t keep. So you let him mumble reassurances into your hair, let him kiss your breath away and shower you in the affection you’ve been missing for far too long.

It’s so easy to get lost in it, lost in him. Too easy.

He’s always been like that; charismatic and witty, magnetic and charming. It doesn’t help that he’s totally gorgeous, too. You knew, from the moment you met him, that if you ever let yourself fall in love with him, you’d be in trouble. It’s why you never took any of his advances seriously, at least not in the beginning.

But he was able to chip at your resolve with every teasing smile and playful wink, every reverent touch and whispered words meant just for you. He let you get to know him; the real him, not that flippant and perfect pretty boy facade he presents to the rest of the world, and so of course you fell for him, because how could you not?

Oikawa is stubborn and prideful, exhausting and even sometimes petty, but he makes you feel like you’re the strongest person he knows. He looks at you like you’re the only one he’ll ever want to see. He makes you laugh and keeps you on your toes, and you know right away –before you moved in together, before you told him you loved him– that you will never love anyone the way you love him, because no one else will ever be able to compare.

That’s why it’s so easy for you to believe him now. Because you know he loves you and that you love him, and the two of you are determined to make this relationship work. So when he promises that things will change, that he’ll be more present from here on out, you believe him.

It’s the first promise he’s ever made to you that he doesn’t keep.

For every event Oikawa does bother to make it to, he misses two more. Your parents, who adore him, wonder why they never see him anymore. Your friends start to ask if you even still have a boyfriend. You find yourself asking the very same thing.

You stop inviting him to events at your university and lunches with your friends. You don’t want to set yourself up for disappointment anymore, and you figure it’s easier to just save yourself from the inevitable. The apology gifts he gives you start to feel hollow, empty, just like your apartment. You stop opening them, letting them pile up in the corner of your living room. Eventually, he stops giving them to you.

You’re not sure if you’re thankful for that, or if it upsets you even more.

The Olympics get closer each day. Oikawa’s practices become more intense and even longer than they already were. There are so many things he needs to do now: games to play, meet and greets to attend. Sometimes if he’s out too late he just doesn’t come home at all. The team sets him up at a hotel, and he stays there for the night instead.

It gets harder to catch his scent on his pillow where it lays beside you in bed, untouched and forgotten. It should hurt you more, but it doesn’t.

There’s an event being held back in Japan, promising a night of drinking and dancing and schmoozing. All the investors and international players and coaches will be there, and you promised a while back to be Oikawa’s plus one.

The vindictive part of you wants to cancel on him, just so he knows how it feels, but you decide you can put your pettiness aside for a few nights if it means free booze and food and a comfortable stay at some ridiculously fancy hotel. You wonder if that’ll be enough to fill the hole he’s made in your heart.

Besides, you want to remind him that you’re the kind of person who keeps your word, even if he’s not.

The flight is long and exhausting. So is finding your hotel and forcing yourself to get dressed, but you get through it. Oikawa looks unfairly stunning in his suit, but you try not to notice. He arrives at the party with you on his arm, wearing a silky gown that matches his tie and jewelry that glitters whenever it catches the light.

You’ve barely talked to each other the whole way here, but at the party, amongst his teammates, old rivals, and friends, you’re the perfect couple. You smile, laugh, and dance exactly when you’re supposed to. You play your role so well that no one notices how numb you are, not even Oikawa, even though he’s supposed to know you better than anyone else.

Maybe that’s why you find yourself at the open bar. Oikawa’s off mingling with god knows who, swamped by dozens of people who are always seeking his favor, trapped in his orbit. They praise his hard work, his tenacity, his determination. Once upon a time, you would’ve done the same.

But things are different between you now. What used to be Oikawa’s endearing stubbornness is now an outright refusal to meet you halfway. His determination to be the best has become an inability to compromise; his passion has become obsession. It’s strange to think how all the things that used to make you love him now just make you resent him.

But the liquor here is free and flowing so you knock it back like water, and it’s almost enough to make you forget your heartbreak, your anger. Almost.

All the drinking eventually sends you to the bathroom. You touch up your makeup as best as you can and wash your hands with one of the several different soap options, exiting the bathroom noticeably drunker than you were when you went in.

You’re off-balance enough that when you run into what feels like a brick wall but is actually just a tall, broad-shouldered man, you stumble and nearly fall over. He reacts quicker than you do, catching your elbow and steadying you back on your feet.

He asks you if you’re all right and you reassure him that you are. You swear you’ve seen his face before, but you’re too tipsy right now to bother to remember where.

“I appreciate the help,” you say sincerely, patting his shoulder. “But I promise I’m okay. Thank you again, really.”

He gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you, and he’s proven right approximately five seconds later, when you turn on your heel to leave and nearly fall over again. Once more, he’s there to catch you.

You try to convince him that you’re okay; you’re just a little bit tipsy from all the champagne earlier, but he guides you to one of the stupid velvet couches in the hallway and makes you sit down. He tells you to stay there and wait for him, and you want to protest but he’s already gone before you can make any real sort of argument.

When he returns, it’s with a bottle of water, which you sheepishly accept. He stays with you as you drink it, and your vision and stomach start to settle. You thank him again for all his help. He tells you it’s no big deal, and when he introduces himself as Ushijima Wakatoshi, you laugh so hard you almost spit water all over yourself.

Ushijima raises an eyebrow at you. “Is there something about my name that amuses you?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” It takes more effort than it should, but you’re thankfully able to force yourself to stop laughing. Talk about ironic encounters. “It’s just– I’ve heard of you before.”

“Are you a fan of volleyball?”

You resist the urge to snort, sending him an amused smile instead. “Something like that.”

The two of you chat for a little while, and it’s a surprisingly pleasant conversation. You quite like his company, and you appreciate how he’s willing to keep an eye on you solely out of the kindness of his heart, just to make sure you’re really okay. It’s hardly necessary anymore –the water’s doing a great job at sobering you up– but it’s a nice distraction from the reason you started drinking in the first place.

Or it was, until you start to hear that very same reason calling your name from somewhere down the hall. His voice gets closer and closer, and you shut your eyes, bracing yourself.

“What the hell?”

You open your eyes and suddenly Oikawa is in front of you, eyebrows drawn together and lips pulled into a deep frown. You can only imagine what you look like to him right now, low-eyed and tipsy and sitting on a couch next to his oldest rival.

You can already see the anger in his eyes, the suspicion. He’s jealous, and it’s absolutely ridiculous because he has no right to be. Not after ignoring you for so long. Not after reminding you over and over again that when it comes down to it, you’ll always be second place to his career.

You haven’t been flirting with Ushijima, but now you wonder if maybe you should have. There’s a bitter part of you that wants to hurt Oikawa as much as he’s hurt you, even if it’s only for a moment.

Ushijima seems completely oblivious to the situation, which you’re sure just infuriates your boyfriend even more. He’s described to you in great detail how one of the things he finds most frustrating about Ushijima is how completely and utterly unbothered he is by everything.

“Oikawa,” the man closest to you greets, standing up. “It’s good to see you.”

“Ushiwaka.” The smile your boyfriend directs to his old rival is tight-lipped and void of any of its usual warmth. Oikawa’s gaze settles on you next, eyes narrowing even further. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is plain, dull, as you tilt your head at him mockingly. “Do I know you?”

“Stop being cute.” The way he practically snaps it makes it clear he doesn’t think you’re being cute at all. In fact, he actually looks pretty pissed, and you almost smile at the realization. As petty as he can be, it’s clear you’re better at this than he is. “It’s getting late. It’s time for us to leave.”

Ushijima’s gaze slides over to you. “Do you know him?”

But you’re not looking at him. You’re looking straight at Oikawa, at the tenseness of his shoulders, the way he’s on the verge of fuming. Apparently, just the idea of you being alone with his oldest rival is more concerning to him than the fact that you’ve barely spent any time with each other in the past two months. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Of course.” You stand, closing the short distance between yourself and Oikawa. “He’s my boyfriend. My loving, devoted, perfect boyfriend.”

You place the hand that’s not holding your water bottle against his chest, perching on your toes to deliver a sweet kiss to his cheek. When you pull away, the stain of your lipstick remains, and you wonder if he can feel the resentment in it.

“I just forget sometimes, is all. You know, since we never see each other.”

You don’t bother to examine the look on his face. You can’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You turn to Ushijima instead, offering a tired but genuine smile.

“Thank you again for your help, Ushijima. It was a pleasure to officially meet you. Have a good night.”

You turn on your heel and walk away, down the hall and past several magnificent paintings, past any apology you would normally be ready to offer. It’s petty and deliberate, the kind of reaction you didn’t think you were capable of before this, but it’s all you have left. Oikawa doesn’t care, hasn’t cared for a while actually, so neither will you.

You don’t know what he says to Ushijima or if he even says anything at all, but you do hear his footsteps when he runs after you. They slow as he gets closer, but you don’t stop walking, don’t turn back to look.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What– what the fuck was all that back there, huh?”

You stop. Slowly, you turn to look at him, but you don’t say anything. You just stand there, watching, waiting, feeling absolutely nothing as you do.

“‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’” It’s a poor imitation of your voice, but the intention is there. “So what, I don’t spend enough time with you and suddenly it’s okay for you to flirt with someone else?”

You laugh without humor. “That’s what you’re stuck on? The fact that I had a conversation with him and not the part where I said we never see each other? You truly have a gift, Tooru.”

The frown on his face deepens, but the anger in his eyes softens a little, replaced by a hint of guilt. There’s regret there, too, over not keeping the promise he made to you. You would be more moved by it if you weren’t so completely infuriated right now.

He closes his eyes, letting out a sigh. “I’m not going to have this argument with you. Not here.”

“Where should we have it then, hm? In the lobby? At the hotel? We’re damn sure not having it when we get home, because you’re never fucking there!”

You don’t mean to scream at him, but that’s what comes out. You’re not sure which one of you is more surprised by it. Oikawa stares at you, wide-eyed and stunned, as if you’ve just slapped him, and you stare back, breathing hard. You’re so focused on each other you don’t even notice you have an audience until you hear a new, familiar voice speak.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi steps between you, concerned and cautious.

He’s the only one here, thank god, but his appearance reminds you that this is definitely not the time or the place for any of this. You shouldn’t care who overhears you, but as angry as you are, you’re not selfish enough to air out your relationship’s problems in front of all of Oikawa’s friends and colleagues. You still love him, after all, even if it’s hurting you to do so.

Iwaizumi casts a wary glance between you and his best friend, almost like he’s preparing himself to play the unwilling referee in what seems to be an inevitable fight. Any other time, you might’ve laughed at the look on his face, but not now. “Everything okay, you two?”

It’s not. It hasn’t been for a while, and right now Oikawa’s looking at you like he’s finally realizing that too.

The car ride back to the hotel is eerily silent. You and Oikawa share no words, no fleeting glances; you don’t even sit close enough to touch each other, not even accidentally. The ride up to your floor is spent in a similar fashion, a cold distance settling between you that’s never been there before.

Or maybe it’s been there for a while, and it took you screaming at him in the middle of a party for the two of you to notice it.

Miraculously, you make it into your room in one piece. The two of you remove your coats and shoes in that same suffocating silence. You make it to the bedroom without exchanging a single word, and he takes a seat on the bed while you sit in front of the vanity and begin removing your jewelry.

Another long stretch of silence later, and then he’s meeting your eyes in the mirror to ask, “Can we talk?”

You consider telling him to go fuck himself instead, but somehow you bite down the urge.

“About what?” You take off your necklace, a pretty golden chain with your birthstone on it that he got you for your birthday. “About how I wasn’t flirting with Ushijima? Because I wasn’t, if that’s what you’re still so torn up about.”

“I know you weren’t,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. It’s a bit longer than you remember; that’s how long it’s been since you’ve really gotten the chance to look at him. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“I do. You were jealous.” Your earrings are the next to go, another gift from him. He’s scattered himself into so many pieces across your life; you’re not sure how you’ll ever be free of him, or if you’ll ever want to be. “But you had no reason to be. I would never do that to you.”

“I know.” He looks down, fidgets with his fingers, meets your gaze again through the mirror. His tie is loosened around his neck, making him look disheveled in just the way you like. “I’m sorry.”

“Great.” Your tone is short, clipped, as you finally remove the last of your jewelry. “Is that all?”

“Please don’t do that. I’m trying to have a conversation with you here, so that we can fix this. I mean, don’t you want to talk about everything, especially after tonight?”

“I’ve already said everything I needed to say, Tooru.” You break your gaze from the mirror, turning to glance over your shoulder at him instead. “You know exactly what the problem is, just like I know you won’t do a single thing to change it. You can’t, because my feelings –our entire relationship– all of that stuff’s always going to come second to the things you want.”

The frown from earlier is back now, this time paired with a hard look, like he can’t believe you’re questioning his commitment, even though he’s given you dozens of reasons to do so. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” You rise to your feet, a dry, humorless laugh escaping your throat as you do. “Tell that to the countless dates you’ve missed. Tell that to the bed you hardly sleep in anymore, to all the times I’ve fallen asleep without you and then woken up only to realize you still weren’t there.”

The words feel heavy and bitter on your tongue, your anger growing the more you think about everything you’ve endured over the past few months, all the different ways he’s managed to disappoint you.

“There’s nothing untrue about it, Tooru. You just don’t care about me the way I care about you.”

“Are you seriously going to stand there and tell me I don’t care about you?” he demands. “Of course I care. I love you, dammit. How could you ever think I don’t?”

“How couldn’t I? God, have you seriously not heard a single thing I’ve said this entire time? I’m practically in this relationship by myself, and you’re doing absolutely nothing to change that!”

“You think I like having to leave you on your own so much? You think it doesn’t break my heart seeing the look on your face every time I have to tell you I can’t make it to all the things I want to be there for?” He’s on his feet now, hand jabbing at his chest, like if he could rip out his heart and show you the scars there, he would. “Because it does, okay? It makes me fucking miserable, but what else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to be there, Tooru!” You don’t know when you started crying, but you are. You’re yelling too, hands shaking, voice raw. “You’re supposed to be there when I need you, not make stupid promises you can’t keep! And even if you can’t be there all the time, you’re at least supposed to try!”

“I am trying! I’ve been trying this whole time, and you know that!” He sounds as exasperated and raw as you do, waving his arms around, red-faced and distressed. “You knew what my goals were before we started dating. I never hid them from you. You knew exactly what I wanted, you knew how hard I would have to work, how hard it would be for us, and you agreed to be with me anyway! You promised me you wouldn’t let it come between us!”

“Well, that was before I knew how fucking impossible it would be!”

There’s nothing productive being exchanged between the two of you anymore. You’re just screaming at each other. You call him obsessed and self-absorbed; he calls you needy and demanding. He tells you to grow up and stop asking for so much, and you tell him he’s chasing a pointless dream.

You’re not trying to compromise with each other, or trying to make the other see your point of view. You both just want to hurt each other, and you do.

You’re crying by the end of it; so is he, but you both refuse to admit defeat. It’s one of the many things you have in common: your stubbornness. You’re out of breath and hurting and there’s a small part of you that just wants him to hold you, but at the same time, you can’t stand the sight of him anymore.

You storm out of the room before he gets the chance to, looking back to catch him throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. You throw yourself onto the couch and opt to sleep there for the night, because you know that if you don’t, you’ll probably end up strangling each other.

Oikawa, for once, is wise enough not to follow you, but there’s a quiet voice inside your heart that wishes he did.

You wake up the next morning with a stuffy nose and a migraine. The price of crying yourself to sleep, you suppose. Your appetite is gone but you know that if you don’t eat anything soon the pain behind your skull will only get worse, so you force yourself to stand from the couch.

You step on something hard, eyes widening at the indignant noise of protest it lets out in response. You lose your footing almost immediately, toppling over onto the carpet. It’s everything you can do to throw out your hands and avoid smacking your forehead against the coffee table.

“What the fuck, Tooru?” You scowl when you realize it’s not a random object you’ve tripped over, but rather your own boyfriend, who for some inconceivable reason is laying on the floor beside the couch. “It’s bad enough we spent last night fighting– now you’re trying to kill me, too?”

“I could say the same thing to you!” Oikawa exclaims, returning your scowl with equal exasperation. He’s rubbing at his chest, a pout tugging at his lips as he groans. “You just stepped on my chest. I could have died.”

“Oh, bite me, drama queen.” You roll your eyes, preparing to stand up again, but then you notice the dark circles on his usually flawless skin, the messiness of his hair, and the fact that he’s still wearing his suit from last night, though the tie is gone and the first few buttons of his shirt are loosened. “...did you actually sleep out here? On the floor? Why didn’t you just sleep on the bed like a normal person?”

“I couldn’t.” He pouts even more, and when you nudge his leg with your foot, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “It didn’t feel right without you. It never does. But it felt even worse after last night.”

It melts your heart, you admit. Just a little. But it’s not enough to make you forgive him or to forget your argument, and right now he’s looking at you like he knows that too.

Still, you feel the urge to remind him, “I’m still pissed at you.”

“I know. I’m really sorry. Not just for what I said last night, but for everything I’ve done before that. I never should’ve made you feel like you’re asking for too much, because you’re not, it’s just…” He takes a shaky breath, leans his head back against the couch from where he sits beside you on the floor. “...it’s hard.”

He turns his body slightly so he’s facing you fully. He starts to reach out a hand towards you, almost like he wants to cup your cheek, but he seems to think better of it and lets his hand drop down between you. You almost smile.

His eyes are hesitant as they meet yours, apologetic. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you, either.” You fiddle with the straps of your gown where they’ve slid down your arm. You were so exhausted and upset after your fight with him that you didn’t bother to change out of it. “...do you really think I’m needy and demanding?”

“Of course not,” he answers easily. “Do you really think I’m chasing a pointless dream?”

“Definitely not. Your dream isn't pointless, Tooru, it’s amazing, and it’s one I know you can reach.” Your hands brush where they rest between you. He tenses slightly, like he’s not sure you’ll want to touch him after everything, but you slide your fingers through his and watch as he lets out a quiet sigh of relief. “I was just angry.”

“Me too.” He squeezes your hand, and you let him pull you a bit closer to him, let him press a kiss to the back of your palm. “I don’t want to fight with you. And I definitely don’t want to disappoint you anymore.”

“I don’t want to blame you or resent you anymore, either.” You inch closer and he lets you rest your head against his shoulder, resting his own against yours in return. A clock ticks on the wall behind you. For the first time in a while, it feels like the two of you are back in sync. “So what are we gonna do about it?”

It’s the million-dollar question, it seems. And it’s the one that, after weeks of heartache, of missing each other and blaming each other at the same time, he finally has the answer to.

When you return to Argentina together, everything changes. Oikawa’s determination goes back to being something you love, now that he’s putting it towards making sure the two of you get to spend time together. He’s at the apartment more; does his best to get to dinner on time, to attend outings with your family and friends, and to meet you halfway at fancy restaurants and magnificent museums and shower you with his undivided attention.

It’s not perfect. He’s still busy, so he can’t be with you all the time, but the effort is there. You see it now more than ever, and it’s all you’ve wanted.

It doesn’t last.

You spend three blissful months together, both of you putting in an equal amount of effort to make it work, to understand each other and support each other, even when it seems impossible. But Oikawa’s schedule becomes more and more unyielding as time goes on, and it’s not long before the cycle of absence starts all over again.

If you had to really pinpoint the beginning of the end, you’d say it’s the night of your presentation. The research project you’ve spent countless hours working on has finally been completed, and tonight you’re going to share it with the public; this thing you’ve struggled with since you entered grad school, this thing you’ve put your blood, sweat, and tears into, both metaphorically and literally.

It goes incredibly well, as your professors and mentors reassured you it would. Your classmates, friends, and parents are all there, and they get to watch and glow with pride as the room erupts into applause once you finish your presentation, knocking the whole thing out of the park just like they knew you would.

The only one who isn’t there is Oikawa, despite you telling him about this ages ago, despite it being written on the calendar hanging on your fridge. You know he texted you with some excuse, but you don’t bother to check which one it was this time.

It should hurt more. It should make you want to shout and scream, to sob and cry, but it doesn’t. The anger you felt before, the fury and heartbreak; it’s not there anymore. It’s gone. You’re not sad or upset or disappointed. You just don’t feel anything at all.

Your friends offer to take you out for the night to celebrate, but you politely decline. Instead, you make your way to the apartment you share with Oikawa, finding it emptier than it’s ever been before.

Months ago, you might’ve cried. Now you do nothing, say nothing, feel nothing. It’s just numb.

By the time Oikawa does make it home, you’re already packed. You’re sitting at the table, waiting, still as a statue. He greets you in a flurry of brown hair and frantic movement, an apology you don’t care to listen to fast on his lips. He whirls by you so quickly he doesn’t even notice your bags stacked next to you.

“Shit, baby, I’m so sorry! I know I’m late, but I’m here now and I promise I won’t be going anywhere for the next few–…”

It takes him a few moments, a couple of double-takes, but finally, he registers the silence around him, the sight of you at the table, surrounded by your things. For once, he has no idea what to say; you see it in the way he looks at you, the way he freezes, wide-eyed and almost afraid.

“My research presentation was today,” you start. “It went great. They’re going to publish it in a journal.”

You watch his face crumple right before your eyes, watch the way his shoulders slump. He looks more defeated now than during any of his previous losses, and so, so incredibly guilty.

“But I thought it wasn’t until–...but it was, wasn’t it? Oh, god. I– I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know you are.”

You stand up. The smile you send him is tired and a little sad, but it’s not bitter, at least not anymore. You’re past that now. You’d like to think you both are.

“I’m so proud of you, Tooru. You work harder than anybody I’ve ever known. I just know you’re going to reach every single one of your dreams.”

You mean it, too. Oikawa has an incredible future ahead of him. You’ve always known that. Once upon a time, you believed you might be a part of it, but not anymore.

“...but I also know that I can’t be with you when you do. I can’t– I won’t be second place for the rest of my life.”

He’s incredibly stubborn, and this time is no different. He tries to change your mind, tries to convince you to stay, but it’s far too little and far too late. Too much has happened between you two, and you just don’t have it in you to be disappointed anymore.

You love him. You do. You always will, and you tell him so, too. But just because you love someone, you remind him softly, doesn’t mean you’re meant to be with them. You love him enough to let him go, and you’re hoping he loves you the same.

“But you promised you’d stay,” he whispers, more heartbroken than you’ve ever seen him over all of this, over you. “You promised we’d figure it out. And now...now you’re just giving up on us?”

You place your keys on the table. The clock in your– no, his kitchen ticks along. It matches the slow, broken beating of your heart. He’s run out of time, and you’ve run out of chances.

“That’s just it, Tooru. I have nothing left to give you.”

This time when you leave, you don’t look back.

Written by: Dawn

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa imagines #haikyuu imagines #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #our writing #oikawa angst #oikawa tooru angst #dawn writes

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hajimesh · 3 years

Text

i’m alone now but it’s better for me, i don’t need all your negativity.

— losers in love m.list

+ pairing. kuroo t. / fem reader

+ genre. angst

+ word c. 1701

+ warnings. cheating, toxic relationships, kuroo is an asshole

+ author n. a big thank u to @bokuakadaily and @aomineavenue for beta reading it<33

the familiar heaviness presses down onto your chest.

you already lost count of how many times you’ve gone through this ever since you started dating him.

kuroo is talking with a girl —who’s obviously flirting with him since she keeps leaning closer and smiling playfully at him.

“tetsurou-kun, your blocks are amazing!”

his smirk widens, clearly enjoying the ego boost.

it hurts to see him flirt so openly while you stand a few meters away from him, his teammates right next to you watching the scene as well.

you watch as his hand grasps a strand of the girl’s hair, her giggles making your blood boil, but it’s the way he kisses her cheek —slowly and then whispering something in her ear— that finally stabs the knife into your already wounded heart.

are you surprised you haven’t started crying yet? not at all. that’s a ritual reserved exclusively for the comfort of your room.

they finally bid their goodbyes, kuroo jogging the small distance until he joins your small group. he speaks with his friends for a bit until you can no longer take it and pull him aside.

“that girl, she was flirting with you,” you state, observing him closely so you can gauge his reaction, “and you played along with it.”

his face morphs into a scowl, “i was being friendly.”

“well, don’t be friendly with her.”

a mirthless laugh escapes his lips, “kitten, you won’t tell me who i can or can’t talk to.”

your entire body freezes, letting his words sink in and tear at your heart. you reflexively look to the side, only to realize his words were loud enough for his teammates to hear.

their uncomfortable and pitying looks make you want to dig a hole and disappear.

you have to get out of there and that’s what you do, “i-i should get going.”

kuroo doesn’t pay much attention, nodding his head and turning his back to you and facing his friends again.

you start your way home with tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

—

the ice in your coffee has melted, giving it a bad taste.

you had foolishly decided to wait until kuroo arrived to start drinking your beverage. but forty minutes later and he still hasn’t shown up.

you tried calling him after waiting for twenty minutes: the first time it rang for a minute, the second time you were sent straight to voicemail. you have kind of grown used to it, it’s not unusual of him to stand you up, although it doesn’t make it any less painful.

trying to pass the time, you check your unopened texts and find one from kenma asking you about the controller he lent you a few weeks ago. you quickly type an apology and press send.

your phone vibrates on the table two minutes later and, expecting a text or a call from kuroo, you pick it up eagerly.

kenma: it’s fine. kuroo brought it earlier

you: do you know where he is?

kenma: he’s here with me

it doesn’t take long for kenma to realize kuroo was supposed to be with you instead.

he casts a glance at his friend who lies unbothered on his couch, his feet dangling to the side while he plays with his phone.

kenma doesn’t understand him. at the beginning of your relationship he was always clinging onto you, and now it’s as if he doesn’t want to spend time with you anymore.

and don’t get him started with kuroo’s harsh words from the other day.

“get up,” kenma kicks his foot to get his attention, “i forgot i had to buy something for my mom.”

luckily, kenma remembers you mentioning something about wanting to go to the coffee shop and kuroo agreeing to it.

kenma pretends he didn’t hear him say ‘shit’ once he spotted you sitting all by yourself, scrolling on your phone.

kuroo makes his way towards you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders which causes you to jump on your seat.

“hi, kitten,” he purrs in your ear and kisses your cheek.

you become a blushing mess but a relieved smile graces your face once your boyfriend takes the seat next to you.

kenma doesn’t understand your relationship, but he does know that that’s not how it’s supposed to be.

—

can we meet?

you lock your phone after sending the text. you know it’s going to be hours before you get a reply from him.

and you’re right because it’s now two hours later and there’s still no sign of him.

you debate between sending another text or wait until you see him at school. but after murmuring ‘fuck it’, you press send and throw your phone to your bed.

i wanted to do this in person but i think we should break up. you go over your words in your head, regretting them already.

as you reach back for your phone, you see the screen light up with kuroo’s name displayed on it.

after taking a deep breath, you grab it and press the answer button.

“yes?”

“care to explain that text?”

sighing, you allow yourself to flump on your bed, “tetsurou, i can tell your feelings have changed.”

“that’s not true.”

“it is. you’re always flirting with other girls.”

he scoffs, “i can’t just shove them away, they take the time to watch my games.”

“okay,” you let it go and jump to the other topic that bothers you, “what about our dates? you either stand me up or cancel at the last minute.”

“because i’ve got stuff to do!”

the line goes silent.

it seems as if he has an excuse for everything… or is he simply telling the truth?

“i’ll make it up to you, okay?” his tone has softened considerably, “i’ll drop by your house later and we can watch that show you wanted.”

you hesitate, the offer sounds tempting but something is holding you back from accepting it.

“kitten?”

the way he coos the nickname goes straight to your heart, and that’s all it takes for him to win you back.

“mhm, i’ll order a pizza then?”

“you know you’re the best, right?”

you hang up after setting up the details, a stupid smile tugging the corners of your lips upwards.

yes, your plan might have failed, but you’re finally spending time with your boyfriend.

—

another failed date.

kuroo was supposed to pick you up from your home and he either forgot about it or deliberately chose to stand you up.

the disappointed looks from your mother are the last straw. you have made up your mind and —as terrified as you are— your eyes have finally opened to the cruel reality: kuroo tetsurou is not the love of your life.

as much as you want him to be, he wouldn’t be treating you like he does if that were the case. you can’t keep living in a fantasy where he’ll suddenly go back to how he was during your first three months together.

before you confront him at his house, you take a quick detour to your favorite spot. it’s a park you always went to as a kid and now you go whenever you feel suffocated or need to think things through.

the park has a nice pond with a bridge over it, so you take the time to walk on it, your fingers gliding over the worn-out metal railing. you take note of the little ducks swimming in it and how lovely the petals look floating on the water.

you have never been one of those people who easily recognize others from afar —your sight barely allows you to look two meters ahead of you— but your eyes are drawn to a tall figure standing under a tree. it looks familiar, but you have to take a few more steps in their direction so you can put a face on it.

the universe must really want you to open your eyes, giving you a push and showing you your boyfriend making out with another girl.

you almost feel jealous, wondering how would it feel to have him kiss you with such desire. to have his large hands running over your waist and his breath brushing against your lips.

instead, you find yourself disgusted at how easily he can ignore your relationship and do this behind your back, like a coward.

kuroo’s eyes open right as you walk towards them and he curses, shoving the girl away and running his fingers through his hair nonchalantly.

“h-hey, kitten! what are y–”

“we’re done.”

he blinks, not sure if he heard you correctly. though the hostility coming off of you tells him that wasn’t the case.

“c’mon,” he smiles but it falters at the last second, “we’ve gone through this before.”

the way your brows scrunch up and your eyes look fleetingly at the ashamed girl next to him, cause an unsettling feeling to sit on the pit of his stomach.

“i’ll change,” he smiles refreshingly but the way his eyes dart from your face to the space behind you, never making direct contact with your own, betray his tone.

“no, you won’t,” you say curtly and sigh, your posture visibly deflates as if a huge weight has been suddenly placed over you, “tetsu, i’m tired.”

upon hearing the defeat in your tone, his throat knots painfully. he notices how you do look tired, your eyes don’t sparkle as they used to when you saw his face, and your lips are drawn downwards.

kuroo doesn’t remember the last time he saw you smile. he can’t even remember the sound of your laugh but he knows it used to make his heart flutter.

you look drained, and it’s all his fault.

“one more chance,” he pleads, his tone unusually anxious, “kitten, just one. i swear i’ll treat you like you deserve.”

he takes a step forward, trying to get a hold of your hands but you involuntarily move away.

“it’s over.”

your figure backs away until he can no longer see you, never turning to look back at him, not even once.

and that’s how kuroo tetsurou experienced his first heartbreak, caused by no other but himself.

#kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu imagines #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu

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nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

Fallout new vegas companions taking the courier's place in lonesome road (+ cut companions if that's cool with u) (thanks!!)

The problem with trying to adapt Lonesome Road to another character's experience is that so much of its story hinges on the courier's missing past and the former Frumentarius' struggle to make them understand what happened, why it caused a shockwave across multiple lives, locations and generations, and whether to avenge or let go of the harm that was unknowingly done to the Divide. So if you bring the companions into the mix instead of Courier Six, you either have a long-running story of mistaken identity (a hilarious concept, Ulysses being absolutely positive that the companion is the one who wrecked his dream home while they have no idea who this angry, verbose man is), or a drastically different history for the companions themselves. I say let's give that second option a shot, it seems fun and headcanon-y.

Arcade Gannon: While I don't think Arcade would be directly responsible for the destruction of the Divide, I think he would pale at hearing Ulysses' message searching for Enclave agents and would set out to confront the angry courier on behalf of his hidden family. The Enclave remnants are already hunted by the NCR and the Brotherhood of Steel, and the last thing they need is to be chased out of yet another home over something they didn't personally do. He'd accept ED-E's help wholeheartedly and consider turning back every time he ran into marked men or tunnelers, but his own resolve to save his loved ones would urge him to persevere. I think his determination would intrigue Ulysses, enough to engage the young research scientist in conversation if he arrived at the end of the road in one piece, and the courier might even let go of his vendetta if Arcade revealed that he was doing this out of the goodness of his heart rather than a sense of duty. Arcade would cancel the nuke launch, but would seriously consider blowing up the Legion.

Craig Boone: We know the NCR and Legion were fighting over the Divide before the ICBMs leveled the area. But what if that was by design, rather than by accident? Maybe Boone has more skeletons in his closet than just Bitter Springs, and he was part of a strike team that used old Enclave technology to surprise the Legion forces and seal off an access route, a decision based on math and made by men who had never met the people of Hopeville and Ashton that they sentenced to death. It's yet another weight on the sniper's conscience, and yet another debt he feels obligated to pay, so when Ulysses' call goes out, he answers. The usual dangers of the Divide wouldn't slow him down, but the turbulent weather would irritate him to no end. Upon arrival at the temple, Boone wouldn't mince words because he already knows he's guilty of the charge and he knows Ulysses used to walk for the Legion. If he survived the encounter, Boone would take the opportunity to rain the same destruction down on Caesar's troops.

Lily Bowen: There are about 119 years of Lily's life as a super mutant that are unaccounted-for, and we know she suffers from schizophrenia like many other nightkin. Perhaps it was Lily who discovered the Enclave package and unwittingly left it in the home of America's missiles: Perhaps it was Leo. I'm inclined to think it was Leo, who was probably searching for a cache of Stealth Boys in the old military installations across the desert, and who simply didn't care when a new hole in the earth opened up behind him. Lily, on the other hand, cares deeply, and would set out after Ulysses in the interest of making amends where she could. More so than any other companion, I think Lily would be disturbed by the tunnelers and would go out of her way to crush them wherever they popped up. The marked men would earn her sympathy and she would do her best to knock them out without killing them. After doing the same to Ulysses, Lily would cancel the launch and weep over the subsequent loss of ED-E. She would likely bring the little eyebot back to the Mojave and search for a way to fix it.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: We already know that Raul goes to extreme lengths to avenge the people he cares about, so it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to mix his backstory into the story of the Divide. Following the murder of Claudia in Tucson/Two Sun, Raul chased Dirty Dave and his brothers across Arizona and into the town of Ashton before killing them. Unbeknownst to him, Dirty Dave had a package with him that could speak to the nuclear missile silos hidden in the Divide, and the earth crumbled behind the vaquero as he made his way back home. Though he'd heard of the devastation, Raul didn't put two and two together until Ulysses sent out his summons, and because he didn't have anything planned that week, the old mechanic decided to answer the call. He would put up with Ulysses' messages like a good sport until he encountered the man in the temple, where he would refuse to fight until the two talked things out like civil people. I think Ulysses would be surprised at the revelation that the ghoul he had cast as a villain was following his own quest for vengeance and unaware of the package, and would come away somewhat amused by the situation. They would most likely team up to fight off the marked men, and Raul would cancel the launch and take a wrench to the machines to prevent any more "misunderstandings."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Let's say one of Cass' caravans delivered a package back in the day. Let's say that package accidentally buried the caravan crew and an entire community along with it. Let's say Cass knows, and that's one of the reasons she drinks. While Courier Six walks the Divide out of curiosity about their missing past, I think Cass would do it as a form of penance in and of itself, with a little desire for self-destruction thrown into the mix. The journey would start out as a bender fueled by self-loathing and the fanciful notion of giving her missing caravan a proper funeral, and by the time Cass runs out of whiskey she's already halfway through the Cave of the Abaddon and punching holes through the tunnelers with her shotgun. She would largely ignore Ulysses' cryptic messages and holotapes, but she'd grow fond of the little eyebot that took a shine to her and would tear after it once the mysterious courier repossessed it. Following the final battle, Cass would cancel the launch, but only at the very last second, just to revel in the fleeting feeling of control.

Veronica Santangelo: I just can't see Veronica knowingly or unknowingly waking up a nuclear arsenal with a careless application of tech, but I can totally see her stumbling upon the aftermath of something her old mentor is responsible for. Father Elijah already has a tenuous grasp on the consequences of his own actions, and we know that the prototype tech that controls the Divide's weather is a Big MT project. Maybe Elijah paid Hopeville a visit to check it out and took his investigation a little too far when he discovered the nukes. This would explain Ulysses' directions to the old man to find the Sierra Madre, sealing his doom inside the casino. But where does that leave Ulysses? Along comes Veronica, following her mentor's trail of destruction, and the courier can't help but guide her along the path, show her the meaning of the wreckage and the danger of pre-war technology when left to the discretion of those with old-world values, like the Brotherhood. Along that line, I think Ulysses would try to test her like he does Courier Six, and would schedule a launch to see what she does. Veronica would cancel the launch and resolve to never tell her brothers and sisters in Steel about the secrets of the Divide. She might dump some water on the consoles for good measure. More importantly, I think she might finally realize that the unchanging family she clings to can only die out, or go down the same path that Elijah did.

ED-E: Given that ED-E is a robot, I think Ulysses would be hell-bent on finding whoever sent the little guy rather than consider that the eyebot saw a package with Enclave markings on it, picked it up of its own accord, and deposited it wherever it next encountered old American symbols. Through its communication with the other eyebots in the Divide, I think ED-E would get the picture about the courier's quest for the responsible party and play dumb for as long as possible. The other ED-E would help conceal the mistake to save its new friend, but Ulysses isn't stupid and would eventually figure it out. But how do you effectively punish a robot? Maybe he would set the nukes to target the Divide again, to send any remaining eyebots to the scrapyard for good, but it's a long shot. If he did, ED-E would cancel the launch, but would join its override system capabilities to its counterpart's and use the combined decryption power to ensure that both eyebots make it through the ordeal unharmed.

Rex: This good boy would never even consider entering the Divide. Seriously, what dog in their right mind would go in there? What cyberdog? No thank you. Still, the idea of a dog being responsible for the nukes and Ulysses continuing to hold a grudge is beyond funny. Maybe Rex was part of a mission for the Legion when he still belonged to Caesar, part of the group that leveled the Divide on behalf of the Bull. Maybe that's why Antony says he was "lost in battle," and maybe he's the only surviving member of that squad. I don't see why Ulysses would hang around the Divide waiting for the dog to look upon the hell he'd wrought, and he would more than likely seek the canine out himself as soon as he heard about the King's new pet. From there, the story turns into Courier Six investigating an assassination attempt on a goddamned dog, and the events of Lonesome Road play out pretty much the same way they were written - plus plenty of asides about how Ulysses is going to way too much effort over a creature that can't comprehend what nukes are.

Benny Gecko: Few people know that Yes Man was actually one of two securitrons that Benny managed to incapacitate and reprogram, and while the head of the Chairmen hid his favorite in the Tops for safekeeping, he sent the other out into the world for some recon and experimentation. Imagine his surprise when Yes Man was able to remotely hack into a nuclear missile silo and wipe out a budding trade community. And who would've thought that test run was going to come back to bite him in the ass, right after he was sprung from the Legion camp? I think Benny would do everything in his power to avoid entering the Divide, but I also think Ulysses would have little patience for him and would actively force the disgraced city boy into walking the Courier's Mile by blocking any other path out of the Mojave. Benny would form an attachment to ED-E, similar to Yes Man, but would complain the whole way and confront his tormenter with little remorse. He would also nuke both the NCR and the Legion if he came away alive, probably with some snarky one-liner about "letting the chips fall where they may."

Vulpes Inculta: Vulpes already has a few scorched-earth badges on his Pioneer Scouts belt (Nipton, Camp Searchlight, etc.), so eliminating the Divide is just another tactic in the grand strategy playing out between the Bull and the Bear. All he needed to do was leave a certain package in town, and the problem basically solved itself. Unfortunately, that deserter of his wasn't buried under the wreckage, and now Caesar has ordered him to assassinate the renegade. The fool keeps announcing his whereabouts every few hours or so, making tracking an easy task, but by the third time he feels eyes on the back of his neck and turns to find nothing there, Vulpes can't help but wonder whether the student has surpassed the teacher. The final showdown of Frumentarii would be something for the ages, a clash of philosophies and loyalties with plenty of verbal sparring between the bullets. If he survived the encounter with Ulysses, Vulpes would definitely nuke the NCR.

Ulysses: This cut companion can't very well face off against himself, can he? Unless... he was the courier who accidentally brought the Enclave detonator that sealed the Divide's doom. Given the weight of this grief, I think Ulysses would similarly force himself to walk the length of the Divide, take in the utter destruction that his own actions had wrought, and reflect on the meaning of one man changing the course of history. When it came down to the final room, the final decision, our disillusioned courier would activate the launch as a way of testing himself, testing his own resolve. Like Cass, he would stare at the machines shuddering to life around him until the very last moment, before shutting the system down for good, smiling under his breathing mask and walking away forever.

Victor: The robot cowboy doesn't really know what the angry man on the eyebot keeps talking about. He certainly doesn't remember delivering a package to a place called Hopeville or Ashton. Why would he? Mr. House is very good about covering his tracks, particularly when it comes to eliminating business rivals. Really, it could have been any old securitron. Nevertheless, Victor rolls merrily along in search of the courier who summoned his master, letting his own optics passively take in the devastated wasteland left behind by bombs that launched 200 years too late. Because of his robotic nature, I think it'd be a lot easier for Ulysses to get the drop on Victor and disable him at the temple, then wait until House sent another envoy or came himself. House would probably lose interest as soon as he got his data, which I don't think would stall Ulysses much: Once he figured out the Strip's owner isn't coming, he'd find some way to get inside the Lucky 38. If, however, Victor prevailed in the final struggle, he would nuke both the NCR and the Legion on behalf of Mr. House.

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joshslater · 3 years

Text

Quarantine & VR

5500-word story, so I used the Keep Reading feature for once. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

“Are you sure you’re OK with this?”

We were slowly driving through an eerily empty city center from my student flat next to campus on one side of town to Ethan’s flat on the other, with all my belongings stuffed in the back of the U-Haul. Not that I had so much stuff we needed one. I just moved into the state right before the semester started, but it was the cheapest rental we could get. No one is going anywhere with this lockdown in effect. We barely had time to read the syllabus before everything screeched to a halt. You thought we’d know by now how to handle pandemics, but nooo.

“I wouldn’t have helped you clear out your shit if I wasn’t. Bit late to ask now.” “Yeah, but it seemed like the polite thing to do.”

Ethan turned towards me and spoke with a more serious tone. “I’m really happy to have you stay at my place. I think I would go mad staying alone. Go mad or go home, and I don’t think being locked up with the parents would be better.”

He was about as new in the city as I was, but his aunt had moved out of an old apartment last year and his parents had decided to take over the lease. Apparently it was even cheaper than the student apartments and much larger, but further away from campus. Though where it was in the city didn’t really matter as long as this lockdown was going on.

“Someone else is out at least”, I said indicating out the window. Across the street, a police officer with a navy blue face mask followed our truck with his eyes. Or her eyes I guess. Hard to tell in uniform and mask. I don’t know why, but I found it a rather good look. I hate the flimsy paper masks, but these form-fitted ones kind of make you look more badass.

“Do you think he looks sexy like that?” he asked, as if he had the same thought. “It’s a bit dystopian sci-fi, but that’s not to say it doesn’t look good.” “Take next right. The one after is one way.”

The apartment had two bedrooms, a large living room, decent bathroom and kitchen. Ethan’s aunt had left some furniture, but overall there wasn’t that much stuff. Makes sense as he had barely been here a month. That’s how he had a sparsely furnished extra bedroom for me to use. This was only the second time I had been in the apartment. Ethan forced me to have a look in person before he allowed me to agree to stay with him. Now standing there with all my belongings in the truck outside and my student flat lease canceled, I realized we really didn’t know each other. I studied corporate finance and he medical computer science, whatever that meant. When I asked he tried to explain that almost everything in a hospital now has a computer in it, and a ton of work went into things like volumetric renderings of MRI scans and somewhere there I started to tune him out.

There really weren’t any overlapping circles between us, we studied completely different subjects, he was active in computer games and health, I was trying to get into the writing room of the student theatre company and looking to sign up in the cinema club. But both of us had the bright idea to start working in the student pub, and really hit it off during the start of school year party they threw for their workers. We decided to pick the same work schedule and found out we have the same taste in pop culture, music, books, movies.

And now I’m moving in with him.

He had the larger of the bedrooms with a queen-size bed in the middle, a desk with a few computers and screens set up, gaming computer chair, a reading chair. Basically his room was set up so he could live there except for visits to the kitchen and bathroom. My room didn’t have a desk, but a normal bed, an armchair that looked comfortable, and more wardrobe space than I would ever need. He told me that I could basically consider the living room as mine as well. It had two couches in front of a big flat screen. By the balcony door stood a workout bench and weights. Barbell, plates, dumbbells, and that kind of stuff. Apparently it wasn’t Ethan’s but his uncle’s, but that didn’t really make a difference here and now.

Moving my stuff only took a few runs up the stairs, so we were soon back in the truck, returning it to the rental place. Ethan really didn’t have to come with me, but he said that this would probably be the last adventure for a while, and decided to come along.

“You’re supposed to buy pizza and beer for everyone who helps you move, right? What do you fancy?” “I’d like… You know what? We’re not going to get out much, and you don’t look like someone on a strict diet. Oh, no offense!” “None taken.” “How about we both keep healthy macros and workout regimen while locked up. Instead of paying rent you can help me make sure I at least isn’t in worse shape when all this shit ends.” “Macros?” “Diet.” “Sure I can do that, if you show me what to do.” “It’s a deal then. I’d like one with Gorgonzola and ham.” “Come again?” “The pizza topping. I’m allowed one cheat day per pandemic.”

The pizza place was only a block away from the apartment. Just this one time it was great, as we walked back with one quattro formaggi and one bresaola. But it would be so much harder to eat whatever Ethan had in his plans knowing a real wood fire oven pizza was just four minutes walk away.

Unprompted Ethan started to tell his story over pizza. How his father was a successful businessman in Arkansas, but his hometown always felt too small for him. He talked about how he was making synth music in school. How that made him interested in computers. How, since it was such a small town, he had ended up on the football team without any desire or skill to actually play the game. How he had almost by accident found this education program and had looked forward to both leave Arkansas and to study. I too did a year be year recap of my life so far, up to how my girlfriend dumped me just before the summer. In a way that was lucky, because it made me feel free from obligations and actually do what I wanted.

It was 9:21 when I woke up from a knock on the door. I was a bit disoriented for a second until I remembered where I was. I was sleeping in the guest bed left by Ethan’s aunt. After the pizza we did continue to talk over beer all evening, but I didn’t feel any hangover. Just thirsty. It wasn’t that early in the morning anymore on the other hand. “Yep” I called out. “I’m making breakfast,” Ethan called out from the other side of the door. “Coming”.

It literally only took me seconds to get ready. Stand up. Sweatpants. T-shirt. Done. In the kitchen I saw Ethan had a similar fashion sense, but had gone for shorts instead. “Porridge is fine with you? It would be good if it is. Lots of fibers.” I couldn’t really recall if I liked porridge and told him as much. The porridge itself didn’t taste much, but with toppings I could get used to it. “With our schedule in our own hands I think it would be a good idea to start out with breakfast and work out. That way we can get it out of the way.” Sounded sensible enough.

I changed into shorts as well and made myself ready to do my part of becoming Ethan’s gym buddy. At a quick glance we didn’t look that different, Ethan and I. On one hand I never had that big of an appetite, but on the other I had never really done any sports, and had no gym experience, so I let Ethan guide me. He tested different motions and how many times I could do them with weights he selected and noted down the results in a notebook that would log my progress. It wasn’t at all as tiring as I thought it would be. “Oh, you’ll feel it tomorrow for sure.” We each took a shower, and I went back to my room to catch up on my reading.

A few hours later I was starting to think about lunch. More because I was getting tired of reading than actually being hungry, but I thought I should ask Ethan if he had a plan. The door to his room was open, but as I got closer it became apparent it was an oversight on his part. Splayed on the bed was Ethan, naked save for a pair of boxer shorts and a big VR goggles. His right hand was massaging his obviously erect dick through the fabric of his underwear. He must have followed his normal routine and forgotten I had moved in. I’m not a prude and do the occasional tug myself, like any student, so I was more embarrassed than shocked. As on autopilot, my mind decided to ignore Ethan and continue walking to the kitchen to assess the lunch situation, but another part of my brain decided to keep him in sight.

Walking without watching in an apartment I’ve been in for all of 18 hours predictably made me jam my toe into the door frame. In the corner of my eye I could see Ethan’s body spasm and ripping off his VR goggles as I yell out in pain and surprise. He stared right at me, eyes wide open and mouth ajar in an expression that was hard to read. Surprise for sure, but also something else in between horror and delight. Perhaps it was like the smiles and laughter after you have completely made a fool of yourself. My eyes were drawn to his, and I could feel my face twisted in pain. It was like time stood still, waiting for either of us to make the next move. Out of sheer momentum my mind continued ahead as if nothing had changed and blurted out “What’s your plan for lunch?” over whatever Ethan said at the same time.

“What?” and an awkward pause again. “I said would you like to try?” “I… What is it?”

Ethan put down the VR kit on the bed, quickly got up and stepped into his pair of shorts. His erection was still very much apparent. He pressed escape on one of the keyboards and the screen switched from one incomprehensible menu to another.

“It’s a virtual reality system. I’m using an open source environment system to render inputs from an interactive story engine controlled by a GAN AI system. I’ve been experimenting with regenerative NLP feedback loop plugins for it.” “I followed you all the way up to and including virtual reality system.” “It’s like a VR movie that is generated specifically for you. Here.”

He picked up the bulky goggles and held it out to me. It wasn’t just goggles, but a pair of headphones were built in, and there were a few additional sensors glued on. Hesitantly, and with a throbbing toe, I stepped forward and took the headset. It wasn’t as heavy as it looked. I put it on my head and as it settled into place a digital version of Ethan’s room wobbled into place as well. It was remarkably similar. The colors and patterns were all slightly wrong, but the layout of the room and placement of furniture was almost spot on. I assume he had measured everything at one point and put in the data somehow.

“Go lie on the bed.” Ethan told me. I very tentatively stepped towards the bed, and feeling my way there. It was somehow surprised to find a bed where the digital bed was, and although the visuals of the sheets didn’t quite line up with what I felt, if you just moved quick enough the illusion of actually being in the digital room felt very real.

“This is so weird.” “I’ll start a blank session for you.” “A what?”

Almost immediately a guy entered the room through the door frame. This must be some VR video recording or something because he looked completely real. About the same age as Ethan and I but more fit and, I’ll admit, better looking. He looked flush and sweaty, with his french crop unkempt as if he had just ruffled it. He wore a navy blue sweatshirt and sweatpant shorts. I couldn’t see further down from my position. “Fuck, that was so dope! I love getting pump like that, you know what I’m saying” He was stretching his arms in different ways. Then he zoned in on me, like he was actually looking me over. “Fuck, I love how you look, babe. Mind if I join?” I shake my head slowly. He breaks out in a big smile. I notice he has a bit of a sweatpants boner. Carefully he climbs into bed, next to me. There’s no vibrations of course, or heat or smell, but everything I see looks utterly convincing.

“Hey, are you OK?” “What the…”

I’m looking into Ethan’s face as he stands over me. Bewildered I pat my head.

“I removed it once the program stopped. Didn’t shake you from your sleep one bit. I guess it wasn’t that interesting for you.” “It was very convincing. I fell asleep?” “Perhaps moving stressed you more than you knew? Or it could just be, you know, how shit the world is right now.” “Fuck… I only wanted to ask about lunch.” “A bit late for that. It’s like four and something. Let’s wait an hour or two more and have dinner. Ok with you?” “Sounds dope.”

It was like neither of us wanted to talk about what had happened. I certainly had questions. Had I just fallen asleep like that? Perhaps he was right and I had been anxious about the move and how things would work out. And what was up with that program? It wasn’t gay, exactly, and it didn’t mean Ethan was gay, and if he was there wasn’t anything wrong with that. All of it was just so confusing. Perhaps Ethan was right to just pretend it didn’t happen. Poor guy. I walked in on him watching porn, and then I fell asleep when he tried to show his system. Watching the news on how ever more countries were shutting down was probably time better spent.

He had not joked about being sore in the morning. I woke earlier than in weeks feeling stiff as hell. I didn’t want to wake Ethan, but I couldn’t just lie there in agony, so I got up and did some bodyweight repetitions. Squats, push-ups, dips, and stuff like that just to get some blood flowing. It honestly felt great. Me doing morning gymnastics! Who would have guessed that a week ago? When I left my room I found out Ethan was already up, but didn’t want to wake me up.

“Dude, we need to sort that shit out. I’m ok with you making noise when you’re up. You live here.” “You live here too. What if whoever gets up first makes breakfast and wakes the other up.” “Yeah, dope. I’m down with that.”

We quickly worked out the kinks in our schedule. I would typically wake up first, do a quick workout routine in my room. Then set the breakfast and wake up Ethan. Then we would do workout together. We had different weights and number of reps, but we had very quickly settled on the same exercises, though Ethan was still adjusting my form ever so often. Ethan would then shower first while I did stretches. We then kept to ourselves until lunch. Ethan cooked for both of us. Depending on what we felt like and needed we would either go back to study or do something like shopping or that kind of stuff in the afternoon.

It was hard to keep track of time, but I think it was on a Sunday four weeks later when Ethan said during breakfast that he wanted to show me something he had worked on. He moved the workout bench and the barbell stuff to just outside his room and told me to lie down. The bar had no plates on it, and that’s how I’ve used it until two days ago when I started to add extra weight to it. Ethan emerged out of his room with the VR set in hand, and a trail of cables running in into one of his computers. “Here, give this a go.”

I was a bit surprised, given the last time, but I was also curious what he had to show. Once snugly fitted on my head I was transported into a real gym. It wasn’t a very large one, but a few people did their thing around me. He almost scared me, the guy with the french crop, when he called out “Hey, bro!” just to my left. He had the same navy blue sweatpant shorts as the last time, but his upper body was bare, glistening muscles. He took a step back and his eyes were scanning me up and down. “Dude, you look so fucking good! You’ve really been hitting the weights.” I smiled and immediately realized that I was smiling at an avatar that wasn’t actually there and couldn’t see me, but it’s amazing how good some positive reinforcement feels, even if it is from a program. Perhaps that was the surprise from Ethan.

“Here, show me what you got!”

He walked around me, through the couch I knew was there in the real room, and stood behind me. I leaned back fully on the bench and looked up. He stood over me, just behind my head, so all I saw was a navy blue bulge, some abs and pecs, and his face looking down on me. “Go on, I’ve got you.” I could somehow feel him standing over me. Was Ethan spotting me in the real world? Not that it matters with an empty bar. I grabbed it. It felt heavy. “Good. Give me 15.” He started counting as I lifted. “Slower on the way down. Keep control all the way. Ten more” As I was getting to fifteen he upped it a bit. “Come one! Five more!” As I sat the bar back I felt utterly exhausted. “Fucking awesome, dude!”

“You really went all out.” “What?”

I was lying on the workout bench but I wasn’t wearing any VR shit. I sat up and hit my head in the barbell.

“Fuck! Dude, what the hell!” “The idea was for it to be motivational, but you really took it to heart.” “It was fucking dope, bro. I’m so pumped. Guy was kind of cute too.” “You think?” “Fuck, yeah. I wish I had those pecs.” “You better start some supplements then, if you can’t even last a virtual session.” “What you mean, dude?” “It’s already lunch.” “Fuck dammit!”

I rubbed my head where I had hit it and looked around the room. It looked mostly like before, but the sun had clearly moved ahead. Fuck, I really felt pumped to get some reps in hard and really make a difference. Perhaps lunch, and then do my daily sets.

“You ok with shopping without me after lunch?” “Sure. You need anything?” “I… You said supplements.”

Fortunately for me I have a roommate that studies medicine, kind of. Well, he hasn’t actually gone to any of the classes yet, but he has the books, so he picked out some things for me to boost me. Some of it looked like medicine, in small plastic jars with scientific-sounding names that could just as well have been a frat house. Alpha-omega-manganese-BS-whatever. Some of it decidedly did not look like medicine. Enormous containers with lids that looked too fucking small, with names like amazing-gainz-ultra. He set up a regimen for me to follow, basically some stuff with every meal. I started right away that evening with something like a vanilla and chalk milkshake after dinner. I don’t know why, but something made me feel really good drinking it.

I slept fucking fantastic, and despite having done way more lifting the day before than ever I barely felt any soreness or anything. I probably woke up Ethan with my harder than normal pre-breakfast cardio. Lots of burpees and jumping jacks, so I almost felt guilty making breakfast while steaming sweaty, but whatever. Ethan had to remind me what supplements to take. I really should have written that shit down.

I had a strong deja vu while doing weights. It wasn’t until Ethan spotted barbell for me I realized that this was almost exactly what I had seen doing the VR shit. I looked up and saw Ethan standing over me similar to the guy, but Ethan was wearing grey sweatpant shorts and a red tank. I kind of wished he was topless as well, like the other guy.

“You ok down there?” “Fucking dope, bro”

I realized I must have zoned out a bit. What’s worse I could feel I rocked a hard erection out of nowhere. Rather than making a deal out of it, and run to the shower, I decided to pretend like everything is normal. Guys get boners all the times. He’s a guy, so he knows that. I even did a few extra exercises to really drive home that point. While Ethan took his shower I dared to lower my shorts and slowly stroke my dick. I haven’t cummed once since moving in with Ethan, which I realized was longer than I’ve gone in years. The days were blurring together. I hadn’t watched porn either since moving in. I’ve been too preoccupied with the move and everything else going on.

“All yours” Ethan said and closed the door to his room. I just froze. I was sitting on the workout bench, shorts by my ankles and dick in hand. He saw that. There is no way he didn’t see that. I could feel my face getting hot by embarrassment, yet I continued to sit there and stroke my dick. What the fuck is wrong with me. My mind flashed to Ethan, to the guy in the VR, to his bulge just above my eyes, to his abs to the barbell, to the free weights.

No. I got up and took a long shower, trying really hard to not think about anything. Just observing the tiles, the shampoo bottles, the soap. But there were the creeping thoughts that perhaps Ethan will find me a weird creep and kick me out. How would he do it? He’s been far too nice to be direct. Would he bring up this incident or would he just wait a week or something and over one lunch say something vague like we are not as good of a match as he hoped? Fuck. I needed to do something.

I couldn’t concentrate at all on the block on taxation I was supposed to read. Apart from the residual thoughts of unease I was beginning to see what a mistake it was to not cum in the shower. I was very close to surfing porn sites, but decided against it and ended up aimlessly browsing social media. I can’t really explain how, a hundred clicks that trended in that direction perhaps, but I got into the circles of fitness instagram people. Big arms, broad chests, and slinky stringers. Somehow I was hard again. Stealthily I walked back to the bathroom, locked the door, and started to jerk off in the shower. I’d been saving for a week and been hot all day, but somehow it took quite a while to shoot the load. My mind was a soup of barbells, Ethan, sweatpant shorts, vague old porn clips, and more recent instagram models. When I finally came it was like I’ve never orgasmed before in my life. Rope after rope shot out of me, the first few even hit the wall, and my hips involuntary thrust forward for each of them. I felt cleansed in a way, like a weight had been lifted from me. I couldn’t really understand why, though. Nothing had really changed.

I didn’t want to go back to my room and study. I rinsed the shower, got a pad and a pen, and went to the kitchen to get on top of the supplements. I decided to write down all the ingredients from the labels. I had just accepted Ethan’s plan uncritically. It’s probably fine, but I wanted to understand it. That’s where Ethan found me.

“Hey, dude. Already hungry?” “Yeah… No… I don’t know, bro.” “You don’t know?” “It’s like… Fuck. You saw, bro.” “Saw what? You jerking off?” He laughed and sat down. “You saw me doing it first.”

He was right, of course. I didn’t know how that could have slipped my mind.

“Was it porn?” I didn’t know why I asked that. I was curious, but it also felt a bit too personal of a question. “Yeah. Wanna see?”

Before I even had time to respond he continued “Let’s fill up your macros first and then I can show you. If past experiences are any indications you’ll take your time.” “Already jacked off today.” Why did I tell him that? “Even better”

Ethan had this ever changing dish where he would chop and fry vegetables like bell pepper, chili, garlic, ginger, onion, peas, and whatever else was around, pour in coconut milk and whatever spices you craved that day green curry or red curry for Thai, madras curry for Indian, Soy and miso for Japanese, anise and szechuan for Chinese, saffron and parmesan for Italian, and so on. Then serve it with pasta or grains or rice. I helped him prepare it, as I always do unless he started making it without telling me. This time however the air was different, filled with tension and awkward anticipation. He made it with chicken, lemon grass, and brown rice this time. We hardly spoke a word while cooking, and then continued to eat in silence. We both knew what was on my mind, and there wasn’t any question on the subject that wouldn’t be awkward. I was weirdly looking forward to trying out whatever it was he wanted me to try. I couldn’t explain why it felt so compelling to me. Just thinking about it made me hard. “You clean up here and I’ll go and set it up for you,” he said as soon as his plate was empty. “Yeah,” was all I could manage, and he left. I finished my plate as well, put the few things we’ve used in the dishwasher and went to his room.

His bed was made and on it was the VR headset and what I first though was a protein drink shaker. “Dude, is that a… fleshlight?” I asked him both with incredulity and genuine curiosity. Curiosity because a cable ran from it to one of the boxes on the floor that connected to his computers, and incredulity because I couldn’t believe he thought I would use one of his sex toys.

“Yes. No. Not exactly. It’s modified to connect into the haptic subsystem.” “Haptic?” “Force feedback” “It’s a vibrator, bro.” “Eh.. No. Well, not only. You’ll see.” “Why do you think I’d touch that, bro?” Though somewhere inside I knew I would. “It’s a brand new inset. You’ll be fine.”

I walked up to the bed and suddenly wasn’t sure what to do. I would need to at least lower my shorts and boxers to get the until-recently-fleshlight on my dick, but Ethan was still in the room. Not only in the room but almost studying me like a lab project.

“I’ll lie down?” “Got to strip first,” he said motioning towards my tenting shorts. He saw me hesitated and continued “Dude, I just saw you jerk off in the living room this morning”. I blushed and pulled down my shorts and boxers, and stepped out of them. “Shirt too,” he said. I removed that as well and stood naked in front of him. “Wow, you are making progress. Ok, on the bed and hook yourself up. Red dot up.” I climbed into the bed, as he told me, and grabbed the cyber-fleshlight and pushed it down on my hard dick with the red dot up towards my head. There was some sort of lubrication in it and it slid on with very little effort. It must have been heated as well, because the lubrication didn’t make it feel cold. I was given a nod from Ethan and put on the helmet over my eyes and ears.

The alternative version of Ethan’s bedroom was already there, waiting for me. I looked around and as far as I could tell everything looked like in the real world, except no Ethan of course. After half a minute, perhaps more, I was almost about to ask if he had started it when the French crop guy jumped in through the doorway, as if he was in a hurry. He was naked except for a pair of white, tight speedos that both highlighted his big package and created a reference point for his deep tan and made it look even deeper. There was a sheen over all his body, like he had been working out hard or oiled himself up, and he was breathing heavy. “Sorry, I’m late. I didn’t expect you so soon,” he panted. I didn’t know what to say. “You want me to help you with that?” he asked and nodded towards my dick. I looked down and saw a massive erection, easily twice my real size. “As an apology…” he continued.

“Yeah, sure bro.”

He made the cutest little jump of joy in response, and caught my smile. He composed himself and locked eyes with me. Then he started some sort of dance where all the movement was in his hips and abs. Then he added more of the upper body, still keeping eye contact. I thought I would hose him down with cum from my monster penis right there, so sexy was it. He smirked and moved closer. Still swaying he leaned forward and licked the head of my dick, which shot pleasure up my spine. He then started to circle the head with his tongue, before taking it into his mouth. The first few times were shallow, but then he stopped teasing and begun to really do down deep on the dick. In addition I could feel him alternate between stroking my hips, the insides of my thighs, and tugging my balls. Just as I was about to nut he stopped working on my dick and started to slowly run his tongue up my faint abs, circling my nipple. I was squirming in horny delight.

He was straddling me now, face to face. I couldn’t resist it any longer and reached to pull him towards me and kiss him on the mouth. There was a loud crack of plastic against plastic as our VR helmets collided. “Dude?” I was looking at the French crop guy who was moving his hands in front of his eyes. “Ethan?” I asked, suddenly realizing what was going on. The French crop guy looked bashful, did a little wave, and answered in not-Ethan’s voice “Yeah.”

“Did you just blow me?” “I wasn’t… No, it’s still the device.” I hesitated, considering briefly what this would mean. “Would you like to?”

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hurricanery · 3 years

Text

hurricane

A/N: shoutout to everyone that sent me song recs I'm feeling hella inspired and I’m gonna keep them in my inbox to come back to for future one shots! <3 credit to the anon that sent me this song...i wrote this so fast in my head and now it’s here! This is pretty amelia-centric but there’s a hint of amelink in here too, so hope u enjoy!

TW: implied drug use

also this is for @wordsxstars bc chloe ur my angst buddy forever !!

_______

I’m the violence in the pouring rain

I’m a hurricane

Come and fade me

I’m a hurricane

_______

It rained the day she was born. Like really rained. It was the kind of torrential downpour that turned the whole sky a threateningly dark mix of indigo and grey.

Her Mother hadn’t planned for it. Hadn’t considered the impact that the weather would play on her child’s entrance into the world.

And she’d felt a lighthearted resentment towards this child, for deciding to push her way out at such an inconvenient time.

Because they’d sat in traffic.

Full of panic.

In the middle of a city-wide weather emergency.

“Leave it to baby number five,” her Mother had breathed through a contraction, hands gripping tightly to the cushions of the passenger seat. “To be born….during….a hurricane.”

“This hasn’t been classified as a hurricane yet, Carolyn-”

The glare she’d given her husband was enough to shut him up as she exhaled through the pressure of her contractions.

And she’d gripped the edges of the seat even tighter.

The same way Amelia does now, 18 years later.

Her fingers grip the edges of the seat, and her fingernails scratch over the fabric lightly, as she stares out the passenger side window.

It’s raining out. Not a downpour or anything. But steadily enough to trigger that feeling. That feeling that’s uncertain and nostalgic at the same time. Two practically opposite notions that crash together like the thunder that’s threatening the sky.

She hears Derek clear his throat, and her gaze snaps to his just in time.

Just in time for her to witness her brother’s eyes dart from her tightly-wound fingers to the road ahead as he drives.

She quickly moves her hands, on instinct. Burying them in her lap instead. There’s an overly-positive inflection to her brother’s tone as he speaks out into the space between them.

“I was nervous, too,” he laughs a bit under his breath, like he’s recalling a specific memory. “When I went away to school.”

“I’m not nervous.”

Disbelief flashes quickly across his face, but then he replaces it with something more soft. Like he’s deciding to give his younger sister the benefit of the doubt. Like he’s actually letting her have this one.

“Well, then….I’m impressed.”

Amelia rolls her eyes. And then she shivers involuntarily.

There’s something about being in an air-conditioned car, protected from the heat of the storm outside. It causes chills to rise through her body, despite it being the end of August. She turns in her seat, reaching towards the back of the car, to where all of her belongings are packed. Pulling out a crocheted blanket, she twists forward in her seat again and covers her bare legs with it.

She stares at the road ahead, finding patterns in the wet pavement, before she tentatively opens the conversation back up.

“Was Mom with you?” She utters the question, and she doesn’t let herself look in Derek’s direction. “Was Mom there to drop you off at college?”

It’s not until after she voices the question, that she realizes. Realizes that’s the thing that’s potentially been bothering her.

Derek sighs. And his hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter.

“She was.”

Amelia nods.

This answer doesn’t surprise her. And it doesn’t hurt either. It’s mostly just numb acceptance at this point.

She finally turns to him, and she almost doesn’t recognize herself in her next question.

“It’s because I look like him, right?”

It’s the first time she’s comprehended it out loud. The weight of it hits her like a ton of bricks. The fact that it all comes back to that.

“Who?”

Amelia gives him an incredulous stare, her mouth forming in a tight line. It amplifies her refusal to feed into Derek’s decided lack of wit.

Because he knows what she’s asking.

And Derek knows that Amelia knows that.

Amelia refuses to blink. She lets her eyes become unfocused as she stubbornly holds her gaze.

Until Derek eventually nods, giving up.

“Amelia….” He sighs. “You look like me.” He turns briefly in her direction, like he’s hoping her stare will have faltered slightly at his explanation so far. But it hasn’t. She’s relentless sometimes.

He exhales a bit shakily before he continues, eyes shifting back to the road.

“You look like me….and you look like Dad, too.”

Amelia finally lets herself blink at that. Relief floods her dry eyes and her mind, too.

She turns back to the window, focusing instead on the world around them. Her eyes land on two particular raindrops against the window. And she smiles slightly as she watches them drop down towards the ledge. Like it’s a race to see which raindrop finishes first. Which raindrop will dip first into the crack of the window pane, where it’ll disappear forever.

It’s a game she played as a child, too.

She loved to watch the raindrops race against the plastic walls of her playhouse. In the quiet corner of her vast backyard.

It had rained on the day of her 6th birthday party. And Amelia had almost been glad for that.

Her Mother had talked it up the entire week.

“Saturday is Amy’s birthday!”

“Saturday is all about Amy!”

But it felt false to Amelia, even as a 6-year-old.

The forced element of the celebration. And the way her Mother had demanded her siblings participate, too.

But the party was cancelled. And Amelia instead found herself in her favorite place to be during a rainstorm. Surrounded by the yellow walls of her plastic playhouse.

Derek had found her that day. A smile playing at his lips as he ducked his wet head of hair into the window of her little hideaway.

“Whatcha thinkin about, Amy?”

“What are you thinking about?”

Amelia quickly shakes from her daze, abandoning the slight pride she’d just felt at her choice of raindrop winning the race against the car window.

She turns to Derek, and she even smiles a bit in his direction.

“I’m thinking about….starting over.”

“Starting over?!” Derek gives her one of his classic smiles. There’s an element of surprise to it, that lands in his eyes. But ultimately it’s laced with excitement, through and through. “Starting over is good.”

Amelia beams at him. It starts off small but she can feel the way it grows on her face. It’s the kind of grin that makes her cheeks dimple.

Derek shakes his head, laughing under his breath as he faces the road again.

“You know….no one wants you to start completely over, Amy.”

She raises her eyebrows at this, her grin transforming into more of a doubtful smirk at her brother’s words.

“Well I, for one, don’t want you to change.”

Amelia exhales a slight chuckle.

“I’ll try not to get rid of the good parts,” she mutters.

Derek is focused on the road in front of them, so all Amelia can really decipher, is his side profile. But she can see it. The hint of glassiness in his grey-blue orbs.

Silence falls between them, and Amelia feels a tightness form within her own throat. She attempts to clear it, tries to alleviate what the moment is turning out to be. But then Derek starts speaking again in a low tone, and the tightness spreads itself further.

“Dad would be so proud of you, you know.”

Amelia smiles tightly.

She only half believes that statement.

Because truthfully, she has no idea how she got here. How she managed to make it this far anyway. That realization hits her hard and fast and suddenly she doesn’t care that her eyes are stinging the same way Derek’s were a moment ago.

“I wish I remembered him better,” she admits, and her voice is notably thin.

Derek turns to her, his eyes filled with something Amelia can’t quite place.

“I feel like….” She continues, ignoring the way her voice wavers. “My idea of him comes from the pictures I’ve seen? If that makes sense? And I don’t have the actual memories anymore….I don’t….I wish I remembered what he was really like, you know? His voice, his mannerisms, everything-”

“I know what you mean.”

They exit the freeway, the car slowing at a stoplight as they enter the college town.

“You’re so like him in so many ways, Amelia.” Derek says it in a whispered tone, as they turn onto the main road. Like the comprehension is overwhelming to even him. “So….just like you said….don’t get rid of the good parts, okay?”

Amelia lets herself smile as she turns away from him, eyes scanning the surroundings of the town that will be her new home. The rain has died down significantly, and Amelia questions whether that’s an accurate observation, or if it’s just that they’re driving at a slower speed now.

“Okay,” she eventually responds.

“Are you okay?”

The question had come from Derek.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me,” Amelia had practically gasped upon slipping through the front door. She thought she’d been inconspicuous.

Derek stared at her expectantly.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, but she couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering.

“It’s pouring out. Did you walk?” There’d been criticism in his voice.

“You’d be more upset if I said I drove, right?”

“Amy.”

“Derek.”

They’d been at a standoff. In the middle of the entryway. Both of them seemingly unphased by the mix of mud and water that tracked all over their Mother’s favorite area rug.

Derek sighed. And Amelia stared at the floor. Unable to make eye contact, too aware that her eyes were hinted red and full of haze.

“Why didn’t you call me for a ride?”

“I didn’t know you’d still be here.” Her reply sounded bitter. But maybe it had just been the tightness in her jaw, the pressure from fighting off the wet and the cold.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“You missed Dad’s birthday dinner.” Derek’s tone had been accusatory again.

“Dad missed it, too.”

“Amelia-”

She’d cut Derek off with a bizarrely edged laugh.

Their Dad’s birthday dinner. They’d celebrate every year as a family. They’d sit down and have dinner together. And Amelia ultimately despised it. Mostly because they’d started grouping it together with her own birthday celebration. Her birthday followed a week after their Dad’s. And it just served as another reminder. Another reason for displaced resentment.

Amelia bit down on her laugh, stunned. She’d be turning 16 the following week.

“Amelia.” He said it again, this time more cautionary.

She finally looked at him. And she could see genuine concern in his expression.

“Are you okay?” He asked for a second time.

All Amelia could do was nod.

“Are you on your way out?” She whispered the question.

And then it was Derek’s turn to nod.

“I just wanted to say goodbye before I took back off to school,” he explained. “And I wanted to tell you happy birthday.”

Amelia smirked coldly at him, and finally started moving towards the stairs.

“Bye, Derek.”

2 years later and they’ve yet to improve this part.

It’s a rushed goodbye. Like it usually is for them. They don’t do goodbyes very well. Maybe that had something to do with shared past experiences.

Derek helps her set up her dorm room and when there’s nothing left to do, a knowing shift occurs in the atmosphere.

He pulls his hands out of his pockets, and forces a smile on his face. And when he pulls her into a tight hug, it takes Amelia a moment to reciprocate the gesture.

But Derek just squeezes her tighter until she does.

“You’re going to love it here, Amy,” he mumbles, before pulling away.

And Amelia just nods. Not able to find her words.

Because they’re bad at goodbyes. Which Derek knows. So he lets her off the hook, backs out of the small room with one last glance in her direction.

And Amelia watches him go.

Amelia doesn’t love it here, right away.

She tries to. She really does.

She sits in the shared common areas and convinces herself that maybe she’ll step up and talk to someone today.

It’s strange. She’s an outgoing person. She could be the life of the party when she really wanted to. But, she sits now, textbooks open in front of her, glancing around the library at fellow students. And she feels worlds beyond them. She questions to herself how she can even feel years beyond people her own age.

And that’s the self-inquiry that ruins her plan. She gets way too inside her own head and it hinders any chance she has at trying today.

Instead she gets up, shoving her books into her bag and walking purposefully to the exit.

It’s when she reaches her dorm, that the rain starts. She can smell it first. The distinct way the air changes when it’s about to rain. It feels humid and thick and her skin starts to feel sticky before the cold front lightly passes over her, and it provides relief.

The sky gets dark and it starts to sprinkle, just as she climbs the steps of her building.

As she enters her room, a dark cloud of restlessness storms her mind. Because she doesn’t know what her next move is. What her plan is for the rest of the day.

She looks around the small room, eyes catching on a piece of paper that’s been slipped under her door.

She picks it up, and when she reads the words on the flyer, she wants to laugh to herself. Because it simply lists an address for a party later tonight. And she’s laughing because, is this really how college works?

She decides there’s no way she’s going to the party.

After 2 hours of staring at the ugly off-white paneling of her dorm room ceiling, Amelia sits up in bed.

Because there’s a hint of it. A fleeting thought. A question that flashes through her mind almost too quickly to even divulge in.

But it’s there. The question of ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’

It’s enough to make her get out of bed. Which is confusing, to say the least. Because she hadn’t anticipated spending her evening this way. But now she’s pulling open her dresser drawers, trying to find something to wear. And she’s glancing at herself in the mirror, reaching for her makeup bag at the same time.

The last thing she remembers thinking, when she exits her dorm room is, what’s the worst that could happen?

The worst that could happen, happens almost right away.

It takes place in the form of ‘jungle juice.’

“It’s called jungle juice!”

Amelia stares blankly at the frat boy in front of her. She’s standing way too close to the bouncing speakers and the music is way too loud.

“What?!”

“Jungle juice!” He yells again, “Basically everyone brings a fifth of something and it all gets poured in there! It’s disgusting, but it makes for a dangerous concoction! Want me to grab you a cup?”

Amelia shakes her head. She doesn’t know what she was thinking.

Well, that’s not entirely true. She was thinking that she had to at least try. Give a shot at relating to people her age.

She surveys the boy in front of her. He’s attractive. Jet black hair, green eyes and even a slightly alternative vibe to him. It surprises Amelia, considering she’s in a frat house. He seems unexpected. And maybe her type. She’d probably go for him, if she wasn’t currently so inside her own head about it.

She feels her nails dig lightly into the palms of her hands as she drops her arms to the side, and she immediately catches herself. She exhales, trying to relax.

“I’ll grab something else, probably!” she yells back to the boy patiently standing in front of her.

Patiently, she thinks. Because she’s already a step ahead of him, labeling him, and she knows she’s someone that requires patience in events like these.

She shifts her eyes away from him, instead looking to the tiny window in the corner of the crowded room. It’s raining outside. Drops of condensation race against the glass in a familiar motion.

A feeling swells in her chest that’s hard to ignore. There’s a strong desire to escape her current environment and it practically makes her want to crawl out of her skin.

“I’m not supposed to be here!” She shouts over the music, turning back to the conversation.

“Huh?!”

“It’s raining!” She’s an octave louder this time.

“Yeah! It’s good we’re inside, right?!”

Amelia shakes her head, stepping away. Ignoring the confusion on the boy’s face, she turns on her heels, pushing through the crowd until she can find an exit. When she finally makes it out onto the less crowded porch, she lets out a huge exhale.

She keeps waking. The sun is setting, and the impending storm makes the sky a glorious shade of violet.

The rain pelts her skin as she walks hastily through the campus and although it provides relief, there’s also a sense of something else. It’s almost yearning. Or maybe homesickness. But it doesn’t make sense, because she’s never craved home before.

She thinks she’s crying. She can’t really tell. It’s hard to separate the rain from any potential saltiness that threatens her cheeks. The only thing that gives her away is her labored breathing.

She’s overwhelmed. And for once in her life she wishes Derek were here. He’d know the right thing to say.

Her thoughts are interrupted when a figure passes her on her left. It’s sudden. She doesn’t anticipate it and she doesn’t hear anyone approach, mostly because her thoughts are so loud and there’s thunder starting to rumble through the sky.

“Fuck,” she gasps, hand clutching her chest as the stranger passes her.

He’s running, but he slows his jog after she voices her alarm.

He turns around, taking in Amelia’s startled expression.

“Oh, sorry!” His own surprised guise shifts quickly to one of concern, though.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice raised to compensate for the rain as he calls out to her.

Amelia nods.

“You just scared me, is all,” she shrugs.

He looks her up and down, but Amelia doesn’t even feel scrutinized by it.

He steps towards her. And Amelia finds her voice.

“Out for a run?” She’s surprised by her own curiosity.

He shakes his head as he approaches. “I was walking back from the library,” he points to the sky, in an obvious gesture. “And then it started raining….and I started running….”

Amelia feels a smile break across her face, the dimpled kind. Because there’s something about the way he looks up at the sky while he explains himself, that amuses her.

He turns to her, and he has a wide grin on his face as he catches his breath from running. Not wide in the way that he’s smiling hugely, or anything. But Amelia can tell that his typical smile just happens to stretch that far. It makes her own smile further.

“You heading to north hall?”

Amelia nods.

“I live there, too!” He exclaims. “Food sucks but we have the biggest closets out of all the dorms on the entire campus.”

Amelia raises her eyebrows at this.

“Am I….bothering you?” His grin quickly fades. “God, I didn’t mean to just start….walking with you. Sorry, shit. You must think I’m some sort of-”

“You can walk with me,” she bites down on another smile. Because it’s the most she’s smiled in weeks and it feels foreign to her. “It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” she peeks sideways at him. “As long as we don’t have to start running,” she adds with a laugh.

His smile returns. And they keep waking. The rain starts to die down a bit, but Amelia questions whether she’s imagined that. She can see the rain. And maybe she can hear it, too. But she can’t really feel it. Her focus has shifted.

“I’m Amelia, by the way.”

“Amelia?” He repeats her name, and there’s a spark of interest in his inflection, like he’s really doing his best to store that information.

She nods.

They reach north hall. The rain has come to a complete halt, and Amelia thinks it would almost feel sunny, if the sun hadn’t already set.

“It’s nice to meet you, Amelia. I’m Link.”

_______

#amelia shepherd #derek shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelink #i feel like. this might have potential for a pt 2 but WHO KNOWS #amelink fanfic #amelinkfic #amelia x link #amelia x derek #greys anatomy fanfic #greys anatomy fic #grey's anatomy fanfic #grey's anatomy fic #my writing #amelinkfanfiction #grey’s anatomy #grey’s abc

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bnha-butterfly · 3 years

Note

Hi! Aaaaa it says reqs are open so? Dbdbbff could i pls request the twins suna and kita with a trans male autistic s/o? Like headcanons on how they interact with him or whatever u want really tbh jdndfnn just ignore this if i did it wrong and sorry if i was specific enough. Ty in advance!

Kita, Suna, Atsamu, Osamu with an autistic trans male s/o

Hi hi random ask again fnfnf so u said u prob might take a while to get around to my request so i figured if i sent this ask in to give further detail it wouldnt like really screw with anything bc u havent started working on it yet? Presumably? Hdhdhf when i sent my req in i didnt really have anything specific in mind outside of general autism but! I did think of more details that i havent seen really talked about in general (in all kinda autism content and discussions ngl) so uh what do u think about adding to my request "low functioning" s/o like cant go to school or get a job bc its just so stressful and s/o cant cope type stuff (bc whenever theres autism representation its always the more "higher functioning" end of things which is like not everyones autism? Like its like that very one dimensional type of autism rep when theres so many different ways it affects ppl and - i am not going to go on a rant in an ask jesus christ im so sorry djdhfh) and dealing with some rejection sensitivity dysphroia/rsd?? Bc these are topics that dont really get covered and all fnfnfn its ok if u dont want/cant add this to my req tho im sorry for just randomly springing more details on you dhdhfb also sorry this is really long and wordy and if its hard to understand i tried to write it in a way thatd make sense dnfjf i just wanted to send this for your consideration ok ty! Sjdjfh 💚💚 💚

A/n - Just as a heads up I try to keep my blog as functioning label free as possible cus they lowkey make me uncomfy (don’t worry I didn’t have it in my rules so it's okay!) I’ll explain why they make me uncomfy/ why I hate them in a different post if anyone wants to know why.

Kita Shinsuke

This man always has a stim toy. Realistically he probably has a little pouch in his book bag that he carries with him everywhere that is just full of stim items. There’s a stress ball , a fidget cube and a few other things

Whenever you feel dysphoric he will literally remind you about how handsome you are. I mean like stand you in front of the mirror and point out all of his favorite parts of you

Definitely reminds you to be kind to your body and your brain cus they’re doing the best they can

If he has to cancel plans with you he always makes it up to you and tells you that he’d rather spend time with you.

Kita is so understanding and caring. He understands that school and work aren’t really an option for everyone for different reasons and he definitely understands that both are designed for neurotypical people.

Suna Rintaro

Rin keeps an extra pair of headphones on him at all times for if you get overwhelmed

If you ever mention to him that you’re going to sleep or if he sending you a good night text he always reminds you to take off your binder

Sometimes he wants to hangout with the team and has to turn you down. He knows RSD can make turning down spending time together feel like a kick in the face so he always promises to spend time with you later and tell you he loves you

If you ever have a low spoons + dysphoria type of day he’s coming over and spending time with you in bed. He’s bringing some of your favorite snacks/drinks/food and one of his hoodies that still smell like him.

His love language is quality time so he probably takes you on a lot of dates. Especially if they have something to do with your special interest or hyper fixation

Miya Osamu

He learns how to cook all of your safe foods just the way you like it.

Every morning you are greeted with a kiss to your temple and a sleepy Osamu grumbling a soft “good morning handsome” to you.

He understands that work isn’t really for you. But, sometimes he’ll take you with him to the onigiri shop with him to keep him company.

This man would move heaven and earth to see you happy everyday without hesitation.

He’s super responsive to all boundaries you have. Don’t want to be touched or cuddled a certain way? Okay. Need him to give you space after a meltdown/shutdown or on extremely dysphoria days? No problem.

Miya Atsumu

If you are nonverbal/semi verbal he definitely made you communication cards. He gave them to you for either an anniversary or your birthday and they are super well done. They’re laminated their color coated and they’re just lovely

He’s such a good listener. He could listen to you talk all day and never get tired. Whether it’s you just talking about insecurities while in bed together or him listening to you talk about a hyperfixation/ special interest you know he’s always willing to listen.

Insecurities who??? Not with Atsumu around. If he is not kissing away your insecurities he’s making you “laugh away the bad vibes”.

He always reminds you how much he loves you. He literally will not leave for practice until he gets a kiss and tells you he loves you, it’s gotten him in trouble for being late a few times but he always says he’d do it again. (and he always ends up doing it again)

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cuinnamonbun · 3 years

Note

I really love ur headcanon about Hijabi Mc with the brothers! I really love it cuz there is no one writing about us in any fandom =(

I was thinking would u do the (un)datebale characters with Hijabi Mc if u can ? =3

If u don’t want then u can ignore the ask 🖤

Hello there, angel! I assume you meant the chaotic Hijabi MC headcanon that I wrote, so I hope you enjoyed these xx

she/her pronouns!!

The (Un)Dateable Characters' + Luke’s Reactions to a Hijabi MC That Looks Extremely Pious and Quiet but is Actually a Chaotic Mess

Diavolo

As future king of the Devildom that wishes to strengthen the relations between the three realms, prejudice and discrimination against the human exchange students’ choice of religion is a HUGE no-no

Diavolo would not mind the fact that she is wearing a symbol of her devotion to God on her head, but he would be so intrigued by this human at first meeting

Not about her religion, of course, he is well aware of all the religions in the world; Abrahamic religion being the one he is most familiar with (obvi)

What excited him was the fact that this human was so. friggin. hilarious.

He’s not even sure if this human is doing it on purpose because something would happen that would catch her off guard and she would just say?? the most random shit???

Like say, she got jumped by Mammon and her response to that would be a monotone scream and a “sTOP i could’ve dropped my croissant!” but she was actually genuinely startled

He’d be so fascinated like wow! Go girl, give us nothing!!

He would invite her over for tea so many times just so she could explain slang to him

Diavolo: Tell me MC, what is the meaning of DILF?

Due to personal reasons, MC will now be passing away

He would abuse the usage of slang everywhere and he would be so excited to finally understand what Leviathan is talking about

Lucifer: Diavolo, we must talk about the student council budget

Diavolo: That wasn’t very cash money of you

Lucifer: ....excuse me?

Diavolo: Periodt okurrr slay queen

MC has to go hide to avoid being slaughtered like a sacrificial lamb by Lucifer

Diavolo would be also be curious and impressed at the intricate planning of each and every one of her pranks

Like sure, it may be annoying to be the one at the receiving end of it, but understanding the details behind it?? All the logic, physics and patience put into it just to ensure a flawless delivery??? Absolutely stunning

MC has him mesmerised

He would absolutely want to learn the art of pranking from her

Honestly, at this point it’s no longer the human exchange student and the Devil King, it’s now the mentor and the mentee

Lucifer has to demand MC to stop teaching him these things for the sake of his sanity because it’s taking him away from his royal duties that’s keeping the Devildom from falling apart

They still meet up in secret though screw you, Lucifer

Barbatos

This is another demon whom would not mind the fact that their chosen exchange student is a Muslim

Lord Diavolo’s reputation hangs on this exchange program going extremely well, he would not let simple prejudices put a smear on that

He has prepared himself well to receive people from different walks of life just so he can provide all students a comfortable stay during their term in the Devildom

But wait...what is that human doing?

Oh...this poor man

Not only does he have to keep that ginormous labyrinth of a castle spotless and immaculate at all times and ensure that every event being hosted by the castle is going perfectly without a hitch, but he also has to take care of an overgrown man-child that is also known as the future king of the Devildom

Now, he has to make sure this...mess of a human doesn’t go stir up trouble anywhere?

Barbatos is a calm and collected man, but he’s still a demon; virtues aren’t exactly something they practice

He would need to down three cups of melancholy coffee and squeeze a stress ball whenever he catches MC in her antics whether it is alone or with someone in tow

Somehow he’s the only one whom MC would find almost impossible to prank

Like she managed to catch Lucifer off guard once (that was her proudest achievement) but BARBATOS???? yeah, it’s like he has a pair of eyes on the back of his head or something

MC: *tries to sneak up on him*

Barbatos, not even turning back: Enough of that now, MC, come enjoy this tea I’ve made

Pranking Barbatos will become her number one mission during her entire term in the Devildom

Barbatos would be really amused and impressed at the lengths she would go through just to see that shocked look on his face

Why, it might even be—dare he say—endearing

Though MC will cause this man stress and grey hairs, Barbatos couldn’t help but appreciate her company every time she came around

When she’s not up to her daily shenanigans, she would simply opt to help Barbatos out with some of the chores or preparing the treats for a tea party with the student council members and the exchange program, even though he’s mentioned that she should do no such thing

But knowing that this girl is constantly energetic and restless, Barbs agreed to let her help since he would not want to deal with her breaking some priceless antiques or getting herself in trouble with Devildom law again

She helps to remind him that it’s okay to be laidback once in a while and that he doesn’t need to be so uptight all the time

These two have an unusual friendship but it’s only good vibes all around ^^

Before she leaves the Devildom though, he would pretend that she actually managed to startle him with her last grand prank and the look on her face was worth his reputation taking a slight hit

He totally has a soft spot for her

Solomon

OOOOH THESE TWO

THESE TWO ARE THE EMBODIMENT OF CHAOS ITSELF

Solomon and MC would be the best of friends man

The minute this shady sorcerer laid his eyes on her, he KNEW...this would be his new BFF

They would wreak so much havoc together that they give Lucifer a migraine the size of Lord Diavolo’s castle because they’re rUiNiNG tHe iNtEgRiTy oF tHE eXcHanGe pRoGrAm

Psh, as if that’d stop them

Honestly, it was like they each have one braincell that cancels each other out every time they get together

Lucifer: You two better have an explanation for this

MC: We have three actually.

Solomon: Pick your favourite

Lucifer hates it whenever they get together and he would always try to prevent them from meeting up

But his wits are no match for the power of their friendship!!

Solomon would defff try to persuade MC to get more pacts with other demons

Solomon: C’monnnn MC, we could be powerful! :c

MC: Bold of you to assume we’re not powerful now, bestie

So we have established that MC loves to pull pranks right?

She would have so many ideas on the top of her head that she would never use because 1) they either defy the laws of physics or 2) she would need magic to pull it off perfectly

So imagine her excitement when she found out Solomon is the greatest human sorcerer

She would 100% reel him in her plans and schemes and NO ONE (except the angels, they have immunity bc they’re babies :] ) would be safe from them

Despite all the fun they would have though, Solomon definitely treasures her as his greatest friend

I imagine life for Solomon would be quite lonely and he appreciates the constant joy and company that MC would provide him

He would definitely fuck a bitch up if someone dares to mess with his bestie 🙄

These two adore each other so much but they would be caught DEAD before they would admit that to each other 🤭

Simeon

When they first met, Simeon was so happy to find a person so devoted to God such as MC

He takes it upon himself to become MC’s guardian angel around the Devildom

He would helicopter them for a while and would (reluctantly) back off if MC finds it a bit suffocating

(don’t be mean MC, he just cares about u alot that’s all :( )

This man is capital P patient

I mean, that’s a given with him being an angel and all

But seriously,,, one has to be in awe at how calm and collected he is even when MC would pull pranks that would cause a normal person to wanna punch the living daylights out of her

Eventually she would feel bad and stop pulling these pranks on him though, he’s just too sweet and she can’t take advantage of that </3

They would be really close though (along with Luke) because he would frequently invite her to pray the 5 essential prayers together with Luke or read the Qur’an together and it’s just wholesome vibes all around man 🥺

As angels, him and Luke would have such beautiful recitations of the Qur’an and I can picture MC frequently dropping by Purgatory Hall just to listen to him recite the kalimahs with the perfect tajweed (Non-Muslims if you’d like to hear an example, check out Sheikh Mishary reciting Surah al-Kahf, it’s beautiful man 🥺)

He would frequently invite MC and Luke out for walks too and these three would look so domestic together people often mistake them as a little family (much to the brothers’ chagrin and Simeon’s amusement)

Simeon has such a calming presence that he could even tame a chaotic MC down and have her sit still enough, it will be as if she turned into a completely different person

Lucifer, in his demon form: MC STOP RUNNING AROUND YOU’RE GOING TO FALL AND HURT URSELF

MC, violently shaking like a hamster on crack: U CANT STOP ME LUCI, URE NOT THE BOSS OF-

Simeon: Hello, MC! Would you like to come and have a pleasant chat with me? ^^

MC, as if in a trance: ...anything for you, Beyonce

MC is such a simp for Simeon and honestly, who can blame her?

Luke

Luke was extremely happy when the two of them met

This cutie is a proud servant of God and he loves humans who loves Him as much as he does

So it comes as to no one’s surprise when he attaches himself to MC

This would heighten when MC stepped between him, Beel and Lucifer during that,,,,incident

His favourite time of the day is praying in congregation with MC and Simeon and baking with MC

MC would steer clear from involving Luke in her pranks and/or outright pranking him

He’s just a precious little child okay, MC has a soft spot for this angel

She would definitely try to tone down her chaotic energy around him, but she would NOT hesitate to verbal + cyber bully any demons that dare to bully her child

Rando demon: haha shortstack

MC: So you have chosen death

Seriously, Luke would gawk at the obscenities coming from MC’s mouth

He would have to physically drag her away before the demons could devour them both

He would be absolutely SHOOKETH at the language she used because she has been nothing but sweet and polite to him. It was like she switched into a whole different person right in front of his eyes

Luke: MC! I knew living with those horrid demons is a bad idea! They’ve corrupted you now!! *crying Luke noises*

MC: Lil buddy, I was born this way

He would definitely feel really touched that MC is so protective of him though, but he would have to tell her to never say those words again, even if she’s trying to protect him

She would (hesitantly) tell him she would try her best but that would literally only last for half a day because another demon has foolishly decided to mess with him with her present

MC is Luke’s mother point blank period.

#obey me! shall we date?#obey me!#obey me hcs #obey me scenarios #obey me x mc #obey me x muslim!mc #muslim!mc #diavolo obey me #barbatos obey me #solomon obey me #simeon obey me #luke obey me #diavolo x mc obey me #barbatos x mc obey me #solomon x mc obey me #simeon x mc obey me

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rickriordanfandam · 3 years

Text

opinions on riordanverse ; my edition

a lot of people have been doing this so i decided why not right. probably gna lose some followers or smth but anyways. pls respect my opinions! if u disagree, thats fine, but please be polite. unless any of my opinions strikes u as morally wrong then pls point it out to me respectfully. thanks!

- i actually liked drew. im so sorry to everyone who hates her but full offence, why. think about it this way ok, first of all drew became hc because silena died. silena was the traitor, the one who betrayed chb, yet after she died campers celebrated her as a hero? and then drew suddenly has to replace her and live up to idk that legacy she left behind,, when all of a sudden this girl named piper swoops in and takes her place. idk abt u but i wld be salty abt that too. not only that, but as an asian, the chances of drew having faced racism/bullying as a child is pretty high (she studies at brooklyn academy). which means that when she finds out shes a demigod, and arrives at chb where most of the campers are white (this is an assumption btw), she’d obviously be scared of being bullied for her skin color right?? so the first thing she wld do before the campers get to bully her is to bully them before they can do so. (sentence structure here is wack i apologize) ofc this might not even have happened, drew could have had a perfect childhood && was a b1tch for no reason, BUT EVEN THEN HER ROLE AS A BULLY WAS PRETTY VITAL BECAUSE THAT FURTHER SHOWED THE CONTRAST BETWEEN HER AND PIPER,, HIGHLIGHTING PIPER AS A HERO//GOOD CHARACTER,, AND THEREFORE MAKING READERS LIKE PIPER MORE. anyway stop hating on drew please. ALSO WHY IS THIS SO LONGA SDFJHG

- jason isnt bland, the fandom just kinda erased his backstory (thanks to @pjohoo-memes for the phrasing lol)

- reynabeth wouldnt have lasted/would have broken up several times. idk i just see them as two extremely powerful characters who have firm opinions and will definitely clash at some point. in a platonic relationship,, i can see them as really good friends but as lovers? idk i just think theyll break up

- PIPABETH

- i dont really like jercy,, i see them as better friends than lovers. also idt jason and percy were that close..?

- the dam and not my type jokes are srsly cringey and were never funny. ik that seems hypocritical since my username literally makes use of the dam joke but honestly i dont actually like the joke. its not funny to me and has never been funny

- the seven were not best friends. they definitely argued,, and honestly probably werent as close as the fandom makes them seem. like ure dumped with 6 other people, out of which u only know a few. my introverted ass would have jumped off the argo 2 quicker than leo valdez could bomb camp jupiter up. also leo was a dick to frank. so what if frank is bigger sized?? thats not a valid reason to tease him

- the fandom needs to stop hating on octavian while worshipping luke. if u hate luke and u say u hate octavian too, then okay. but if u tell me ure a luke stan but u despise octavian?? imma disagree w u. luke was worse than octavian im sorry. first of all, octavian being a dick was kinda justified. hes been after the praetor position for so long, and everyone keeps saying to “wait for jason” when suddenly this dude, whos a son of NEPTUNE (neptune wasnt liked much by romans), and the camp decides to make him praetor?? dude i would be pissed off big time. and then afterwards, he finds out that greek demigods are real and the dude they made praetor is greek. AND THEN GREEK DEMIGODS COME TO CJ AND ONE OF THEM BOMB IT UP?? octavian has been told all his life that greeks are scum and this dude called leo valdez attacks cj. sure it was an accident, but did octavian know that? no. so it was honestly justified that he was such a salty prick im just saying. also some of yall be hating on octavian for cutting a teddy bear open and thats the funniest shit ive ever heard i swear

- luke didnt go to elysium

- travis and connor stoll r way too underrated. the two have been head counselors of the hermes cabin since luke was revealed as a traitor, can u imagine the stress? luke, the person they probably looked up to as a brother, betrayed them. and they didnt even have time to process this when they were thrown the roles of being hcs. that would have been so stressful and i would probably have broken down if i were them. the stoll brothers taking turns to wake up at ungodly hours because a new camper is crying and homesick and terrified, the stoll brothers having to comfort and take care of new campers, having to deal with the amount of people in that cramped space because not enough campers are being claimed fast enough. having to resolve issues between campers in the hermes cabin all the time. the stolls arent just comedic relief, and we need to stop treating them as such

- tratie shldve been canon idc idc

- demigods of the demeter cabin arent talked about enough and i love the fact that meg was demeters kid. like she isnt the child of one of the big three yet shes so powerful.

- we need to hype clarisse up more her character arc was phucking amazing

- rachel is overhated. sis found out greek gods exist and regularly come down to earth to fuck around and went “ok cool”. queen shit behavior methinks

- the floor 19 crew of mcga is srsly underrated. like do u even remember halfborn gunderson, mallory keen, tj, etc??? bc i feel like we only remember samirah, magnus, alex, and sometimes blitz and hearthstone

- sadie (tkc) was kinda annoying at first. i like her more now tho but i rmb not liking her for a phat while

- tkc and mcga need more love

- carter kane and jason grace arent boring. theyre just really sweet boys who are too good for this world and yes yes yes

- hazel and frank (especially frank) need to be hyped up more. i hardly ever see anything about them. also yall seem to forget that frank was literally made praetor and that even hecate admired hazel and was willing to fight beside her because of how powerful she was

- frazels age gap is kinda sketch but i still think theyre really cute

- nico definitely had trauma from going to tartarus on his own

- GROVER IS PERCYS BEST FRIEND

- annabeth isnt smarter than leo but neither is leo smarter than annabeth. ive seen a lot of discussions about who is smarter and heres my hot take on it: neither. theyre equally smart, just in different ways. leos a genius mathematically speaking. he has no issues solving math problems meant for people much, much older than him. annabeth on the otherhand, is great at strategies etc. she can make an army of 1000 more powerful than the enemy, even if theyre outnumbered. so in my opinion, both are equally as smart//u cant compare their intelligence, because their talents lie in two different areas.

- while i do agree rick riordan isnt a god and that hes bound to make mistakes,, AND that hes given us a lot of representation,, if the representation offends the people its sposed to represent, then theres a problem. im talking about piper as a poc and wearing feathers in her hair. im not a poc, so i cant speak for them on whether or not its wrong, because i dont know either. HOWEVER, i have seen multiple posts BY pocs talking about how they didnt really like rick’s representation of piper, and thats an issue. pocs have been and are still oppressed and discriminated against by many. as a white cis man, we cant really blame him for not knowing (tho he could have done a research,, asked some pocs,, idk), but by representing pocs in that manner, hes influencing impressionable kids/teens into thinking “oh pocs wear feathers in their hair all the time” etc, which isnt true. the pjo/hoo series is extremely successful, and kids who read the books will probably start forming inaccurate opinions on pocs. the amount of fan art that depicts piper with feathers in her hair dont help either. “but rick said so in the books, so its canon” yeah well rick isnt a god and he can get some things wrong at times. im not saying we should cancel him, im saying we should start educating ourselves and not spread false info like pocs wearing feathers in their hair all the time. also that snake song shit where she sang Summertime was just- yeah. bc heres the thing you can be racist, and still include minorities, but portray them in a racist way. And even then, ignorance isn't a thing to admire. Getting those facts wrong still has a major impact. It continues to perpetuate racist stereotypes.

“ With the feather thing, I looked it up myself; it takes less than five minutes to figure out that Cherokees don't braid feathers into their hair. I didn't grow up in the country where my parents are from. I have many other first/second generation American friends who have also been through that, with a bit of a disconnect from their culture. But something that most of us have in common is that when we didn't know something, and when our parents weren't that big of a help, we looked it up. We sought out resources online and through other people from our culture to be able to connect more with where we came from. Some of that took a Google search. So I find it hard to believe that Piper, a girl who Rick's trying to portray as someone who is attempting to connect with her culture and is totally against racist stereotypes, wouldn't know that eagle feathers aren't supposed to be braided into your hair casually. She may be disconnected from her culture, but she's also shown to want to connect back to it. Piper wouldn't be casually braiding feathers into her hair while also telling off people for being racist. It makes no sense.” - reddit thread (down below)

for those of yall who wanna know more please please read this, it has a lot of things i wanna add in here : https://www.reddit.com/r/camphalfblood/comments/gy3gl2/piper_mcleans_portrayal_is_innacurate/

as well as https://finding-my-culture.tumblr.com/post/189422373260/maxie-ratties-and-cattie-finding-my-culture

i will be posting screenshots of these in future posts so if ure viewing this on ig and u dont have tumblr,, dont worry

- the fact that most of the strong female characters in the series refuse to be “girly”, and ngl i dont really like that. just because ure girly doesnt mean u cant be strong.

- piper would have been a great way for him to start making the strong characters act girlier, but instead he went with the “I’m not like other girls” trope which is quite obnoxious to hear constantly, and I don’t think it’s necessarily great for younger girls to read that idea growing up. the closest we've ever had to a strong female character who was also into "girly" things was Silena. when I was younger I admired Piper's "I'm not like other girls" thing, but then I got older and realized that the whole mentality of "not like other girls" is super obnoxious, and a little bit toxic

i have a heck load more that i cant rmb rn but yeah feel free to add more

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back-and-totheleft · 3 years

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‘There’s still a presence out there reminding people not to speak about JFK’s killing’

Oliver Stone is not a fan of “cancel culture”. “Of course I despise it,” the Oscar winning filmmaker says, as if utterly amazed that anyone needs to ask him such a dumb question. “I am sure I’ve been cancelled by some people for all the comments I’ve made…. it’s like a witch hunt. It’s terrible. American censorship in general, because it is a declining, defensive, empire, it (America) has become very sensitive to any criticism. What is going on in the world with YouTube and social media,” he rants. “Twitter is the worst. They’ve banned the ex-President of the United States. It’s shocking!” he says, referring to Donald Trump’s removal from the micro-blogging platform.

It’s a Saturday lunchtime in the restaurant of the Marriott Hotel on the Croisette in Cannes. The American director is in town for the festival premiere this week of his new feature documentary JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass, in which he yet again pores over President John F Kennedy’s assassination in November 1963.

“I am a pin cushion for American-Russian peace relations… I had four f***ing vaccines: two Sputniks and two Pfizers,” Stone gestures at his arm. The rival super-powers may remain deeply suspicious of one another, but Stone is loading himself up with potions from both sides of the old Iron Curtain.

He has recently been travelling in Russia (hence the Sputnik jabs) where he has been making a new documentary about how nuclear power can save humanity. He also recently completed a film about Kazakhstan’s former president Nursultan Nazarbayev which – like his interviews with Vladimir Putin – has been roundly ridiculed for its deferential, softly-softly approach toward a figure widely regarded as a ruthless despot.

Dressed in a blue polo shirt, riffing away about the English football team one moment and his favourite movies the next, laughing constantly, the 74-year-old Oscar-winning director of Platoon, Wall Street, Natural Born Killers et al is a far cheerier presence than his reputation as a purveyor of dark conspiracy thrillers might suggest. He is also very outspoken. For all his belligerence, though, Stone isn’t as thick-skinned as you might imagine. I wonder if he was hurt by the scorn that came his way when his feature film JFK was released in 1991.

“I was more of a younger man. It was painful to me,” the director sighs as he remembers being attacked by such admired figures as newscaster Walter Cronkite and Hollywood power broker Jack Valenti for listening to the “hallucinatory bleatings” of former New Orleans DA Jim Garrison when JFK came out. “It was quite shocking actually because I thought the murder was behind us. I did think there was a feeling that 30 years later, we can look at this thing again without getting excited. But I was way wrong.��

Garrison, of course, was the real-life figure portrayed by Kevin Costner in the film; he was the original proponent of the theory that the CIA were involved in the killing of the US president, after his 1966 investigation. Garrison wrote the book On the Trail of the Assassins, on which the movie was partly based.

Even the director’s fiercest detractors will find it hard to dismiss the evidence he has assembled about the JFK assassination in the new documentary. Once I’d seen it and heard him hold forth, I came away thinking that only flat-earthers can possibly still believe that Lee Harvey Oswald shot President Kennedy all on his own. It’s that convincing.

Stone blitzes you with facts and figures about the Kennedy killing and its aftermath. At times, he himself seems to be suffering from information overload. “I am sorry. There are so many people,” he apologises for not immediately remembering the name of Kennedy’s personal physician, George Burkley, who was present both at Parkland Hospital, where Kennedy was first taken, and then at Bethesda, where the autopsy took place. Burkley was strangely reticent when giving evidence to the Warren Commission.

“I think there’s still a presence out there which reminds people not to speak. I’ve heard that in, of all places, Russia,” Stone says. He was startled to discover that the Russians knew all about his new documentary long before it was discussed in the mainstream press. “They said, ‘We heard about it.’ I said, ‘How?’ They said, ‘We have our contacts in the American intelligence business. They are not very happy about it.’”

Stone believes that no US president since Kennedy died has been “able to go up against this militarised sector of our economy”. Even Trump “backed down at the last second” and declined to release all the relevant documents relating to the assassination. “He announced, ‘I’m going to free it up, blah blah blah, big talk, and then a few hours before, he caved to CIA National Security again.”

The veteran filmmaker expresses his frustrations at historians like Robert Caro, author of a huge (and hugely respected) multi-volume biography of President Lyndon Johnson, for ignoring the evidence that has been turned up about the assassination.

“I can’t say [LBJ] was involved in the assassination,” explains Stone, “but it certainly suited him that Kennedy was not there anymore and he covered up by appointing the Warren Commission and doing all the things he did.”

Stone tried to cast Marlon Brando in JFK in the role as the deep throat source Mr X, eventually played by Donald Sutherland.

“I realise now I am grateful that he turned it down because he knew better than I that he would make 20 minutes out of that 14-minute monologue and it wouldn’t have worked.”

Nevertheless, he filled the film with famous faces. He thought that having familiar actors would make it easier for audiences to engage with what was an immensely complicated story.

Getting Stone to stop talking about JFK is like trying to pull a bone from a mastiff’s jaws. To change the subject slightly, I ask if he is still in touch with WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange. He is and is utterly horrified at how Assange is being treated, especially given that Siggi the Hacker, a key witness in the extradition case against Assange, admitted recently that he lied. Stone praises Assange’s partner Stella Morris as “the best wife you could ever have. She really is smart, she’s a lawyer … he has two children. He can’t even touch them or see them. It’s barbaric. It indicates America is declining faster than we know. It is just cutting off dissent.”

The mood lightens when I invite Stone to discuss some of his favourite films. He recently tweeted a list of these, which included Darling starring Julie Christie, Joseph Losey’s Eva starring Stanley Baker and Jeanne Moreau, and Houseboat, a frothy comedy starring Cary Grant and Sophia Loren. “I love films, always have. People don’t know that side of me. I could go on forever.”

Between his darker and more contentious efforts, Stone has made a few genre films himself, for example the underrated thriller U-Turn starring Sean Penn and Jennifer Lopez. He notes, though, that even when he tried a sports movie, he ended up right back in the firing line. The NFL was furious about his 1999 American Football film, Any Given Sunday. “They (the NFL) are arrogant, very rich people who close down any dissent, so I had to change uniforms and names… but they got the point.”

Last year, Stone published the first volume of his autobiography, Chasing the Light, which took him from childhood up to his Oscar triumph with Platoon. It was well received but it didn’t make nearly a big enough splash for his liking. “There was a curtain of silence about that. Maybe it is Covid… it was not reviewed by many people,” he says. “I wish the timing had been better. The publisher was terrible. They didn’t really promote anything. So now I have to start over again if I am going to do a second book, which I would love to do. But I have to find the right publisher.”

The book contains a barbed account of Stone’s experiences as a young screenwriter working in London for British director Alan Parker and producer David Puttnam on Midnight Express. “I wrote about it in the book, so you got my point of view. They were not very friendly people. I gave my criticism of Parker that he had a chip on his shoulder. He was from a poor side of the English. There is this phenomenon you see in England of hating the upper classes until they approve of you.”

No, they didn’t stay in touch. “And Puttnam is a Lord, right? He reminds me of Tony Blair. He is such a weasel.” For once, Stone feels he has overstepped the mark. He doesn’t want to call Puttnam a weasel after all. “Put it this way, Tony Blair is a weasel. I wouldn’t trust Tony Blair. Puttnam is a supporter of Blair. Let’s leave it at that.”

On matters English, he isn’t that keen on soccer either. He watched the semi-final between England and Denmark but had no intention of tuning into the final.

“Soccer is a different kind of game. It’s a different aesthetic. It is constant movement. The United States game allows you to re-group after every play and go into a huddle and so it becomes about strategy. I still enjoy it although people think I am brutal.”

Ask him why he so relishes American Football and he replies that he “grew up with violence in America … we were banging – cowboys and Indians, a lot of killing and that stuff. How do you get away from that? We weren’t playing with dolls.”

Stone’s feelings about the US are deeply ambivalent. He is old enough to remember a time in the late 1940s and early 1950s when “everything in America was golden” and part of him still seems to love the country but his mother was French and he talks about the US as a nation now in near terminal decline.

Perhaps surprisingly, his real political hero isn’t JFK. It’s the former President of France, Charles de Gaulle. “He said no to NATO and he said no to America. He understood the dangers of being a satellite country to America. You have no power in Europe. Don’t kid yourself. The EU is just an artificial body that was amazingly stupid in cutting off Russia and cutting off China too now.”

He doesn’t much like Boris Johnson either. “Boris, listen. He’d simply throw you in jail in a second.” He rails against the English for holding Assange in Belmarsh prison.

When he is not on a crusade or unravelling a conspiracy, Stone relaxes through Buddhist meditation. “Moderation in all things,” the man who came up with the phrase “greed is right, greed works” says with no evident sense of irony. He enjoys hanging out with his friends. “I have a nice life. I’m lucky,” he says before quickly adding, “I wish I had been more honoured and respected in my lifetime, but it seems that I took a course that is in conflict with the American Empire.”

Stone’s films have had relatively few strong female characters. Ask if he welcomes the #MeToo movement and the challenging of old gender norms and he gives a typically contrary answer. “It cuts both ways, though. There are reasons for patriarchy through the centuries,” he says. “Tribes tend to have a strong leader. You need strong leaders, but I do see the feminine impulse as being important, especially when situations become too militant. The feminine impulse, I’m talking about the maternal impulse not the Hillary Clinton/Margaret Thatcher version of feminism. They’re men. They’re not women,” he says. “I don’t want women in politics who want to be men. If a woman is a woman, she should be a woman and bring her maternalism. It’s a leavening influence.”

The director deplores the rush to judge historical figures about past misdeeds from a contemporary point of view. “I am conservative in that way… don’t expect to rejudge the entire society based on your new values.”

He met with Harvey Weinstein in Cannes a few years ago to discuss a potential Guantanamo Bay TV series. “At that point, maybe he knew he was on the ropes; he was delightfully charming and humble.” The project was scuppered by the scandal that that engulfed the former Miramax boss, who is now behind bars as a convicted sex offender. Stone’s gripes with Weinstein are less to do with his sexual offences than with the way that he attacked films like Born on the Fourth of July and Saving Private Ryan to boost his own movies.

“The press loved him [Weinstein]. Don’t forget, they loved him in the 1990s,” he says, remembering the disingenuous way in which Weinstein portrayed himself as the underdog taking on the big, bad Hollywood system.

“I think he robbed Cruise of the Oscar, frankly,” Stone huffs at the intensive Weinstein lobbying which saw Daniel Day-Lewis win the Academy Award for Best for My Left Foot, denying Tom Cruise for Born on the Fourth of July in the process.

Stone acknowledges his status in Hollywood has diminished. “All that’s gone. The people have changed,” he says of the days when the studios doted on him and his films were regularly awards contenders. Now, he’ll often finance his work out of Europe. He is developing a new feature film (he won’t say what it is). “Never say die, never say it’s over,” he says of his career.

Stone is based in Los Angeles and also has “a place in New York”. During the pandemic, he still managed to travel to Russia to make his nuclear power/clean energy documentary. “I got my shots over there because the EU is so f***ing stupid,” he says of the of the Europeans’ refusal to recognise the Sputnik vaccine. “It’s ridiculous, part of the political madness of this time.”

Now, he is putting all his energy into his new documentary about nuclear power. He waves away the idea that the Chernobyl and Fukushima disasters show what can go wrong – they were accidents.

“Accidents you learn from. If there were not a few crashes, how would you fly?” he says. It’s a line that somehow seems to express his entire philosophy of life.

-Geoffrey Macnab interviews Oliver Stone, The Independent, Jul 15 2021 [x]

#oliver stone #jfk #jfk: through the looking glass #the independent #julian assange #boris johnson #david puttnam #harvey weinstein #born on the fourth of july #covid19 #vaccine #chasing the light #cannes film festival

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benkouji726 · 4 years

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Written for alexweek2020. Sequel to “Settled”, but can also be read as one-off. ...I think.

Anyways, “Settled” is based on meet ugly prompt 2: I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless.

Spoiler alert: they ended up living together! And none of them are aliens! Jesse died in the previous work, so all is well...ish.

Home can be a person

They’d been living together for a month now, and Alex still knew nothing about Michael Guerin.

OK that wasn’t entirely true. He knew plenty. Because one, he was a military man, his livelihood depended on his observation skills. And two, their schedules somehow synced perfectly, and after a week of awkwardly bumping each other in the kitchen and waiting turns to use the bathroom, it was simply easier if they just worked out a systematic plan to build their lives around each other, which led to divided chores, respected bathroom routines and shared meals. And when two men spent that much time together, they had no choice but to have conversations, which were really not that hard, because they clicked like magnets and they actually enjoyed spending time together.

So Alex knew plenty. Both from his observations and their conversations. But it was not like Guerin volunteered personal informations, and even he did, it was always surface stuff, so it didn’t really count. Like he knew Guerin was a mechanic, who was really good at his job. So good that he even opened his own auto shop the second year into the business. And based on what Alex saw, money was not exactly an issue for him. Which frankly didn’t match up with his squatting life style, not to mention he owned a perfectly functional airstream, but that topic was always brushed aside.

Alex also knew Guerin had two siblings, who moved away a year ago. They were both married, and apparently lived nearly enough that they did a weekly get together. Guerin would join them via FaceTime, they would laugh and talk, and Guerin seemed so happy when they did this, which did not explain why he was always a little sad when they were done. But again, not to be talked about.

Sometimes Alex would be impressed by Guerin’s topic changing skills. Granted, his go-to move was more often than not flirtation, but it worked like a charm on Alex, so whatever got the job done, right? And rationally, Alex knew he should be grateful, because Guerin was a surprisingly pleasant roommate. He was good company, he wasn’t nosy, he did VERY good repair work around the house, his cooking skills were better than Alex’s, and he slowly became the reason why Alex was looking forward to going back home after a day’s work. And truth be told, Alex wasn’t exactly an open book himself, so he should just respect Guerin’s boundaries and enjoy their easygoing companionship.

But he just couldn’t.

34 days into their co-living arrangement, Guerin came home, visibly upset. It was Alex’s day to make dinner. So he ignored Guerin at first to finish the lasagna. But when he was putting together a cob salad, he heard Guerin throw his tool box on to the floor, and caused a loud clang.

Guerin NEVER threw his tool box.

“What’s got into you today?” OK that was a little harsh. But in his defense, Alex was kind of tired of asking “are you ok” at that point, because he always got a “just dandy” and a too-big-to-be-genuine smile in reply.

Guerin shut down immediately, threw on a well-practiced smirk, and said: “Nothing. Unless you are up for the job?”

And just like that, Alex snapped.

He got up, got his keys, and left the house.

It was when he sat in his car, had no idea where he’d go, he realized that he didn’t even bring his wallet and phone, which was just stupid.

The whole thing was stupid.

He knew he had no right to feel angry and hurt. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. Guerin didn’t owe him anything.

But he had felt their connection the first time they’d met, and it was there ever since. He thought Guerin felt it too.

Apparently he was wrong.

He came back two hours later, because he needed that time to work out an apology and also to learn not to be this naive again. When he got home, Guerin was sitting at the kitchen table, seemingly lost in his thoughts, lasagna in front of him, cold and forgotten.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier, it was really none of my busi...” He began but was cut by Guerin mid-sentence.

“I didn’t eat”.

“...OK? Were u not hungry or was the lasagna that bad?”

Guerin looked up at him then. His eyes big, voice raw.

“I didn’t eat because it felt wrong.”

He looked back down at the lasagna.

“After you left, I was angry at first. Because fuck you, you know? I don’t owe you anything.”

“Yes, Guerin, I know, I was trying to apologize...”

Guerin continued as if not heard him at all.

“And then I got up to help me some food, man’s gotta eat, and frankly, lasagna is like, the only food you can make right. So I got myself a plate, and I sat down. Normally at that point, you would begin to nag me about eating some salad or drinking some water first, but then I looked up, and you were just, not there.”

He looked up again. All open and bare.

“So yeah, maybe it was not your business, but it was also wrong of me to assume I didn’t want it to be.”

They stared at each other. Both at lost what to say next. Eventually, Alex sat across the table, reached out, and squeezed Guerin’s hand.

“You reheat the lasagna, I’ll finish making the salad. And we’ll eat. OK? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, you didn’t even bring your wallet. I mean, dramatic much?”

“Shut up, Guerin.”

They didn’t talk about why Guerin was upset that night, but it was OK.

—————————

Things got better after that. They talked now, not just making conversation. Alex learned that Guerin had been in the system for a long time. His siblings, Max and Isobel, were actually not related to him. They had been just best friends in group homes, until they were adopted by the Evans, while Guerin went through many terrible foster families. They were united at the age of 15, when Guerin’s new foster home brought him to Roswell, and they had been inseparable ever since.

“That was, until Max decided to marry someone in LA, and moved there. And then Isobel’s husband also got a job in LA, they moved soon after. So it was just the same old me, again.”

They were at the fire pit in front of Guerin’s airstream, which he still wasn’t using, except sometimes he would go in there and do God knows what, they still didn’t reach the subject why he had been squatting yet. Alex suspected it had something to do with his issues with his siblings moving away, like the bitterness in his voice now had.

“Well, you’re literally sitting next to me now, so not exactly the same, you know?”

Guerin startled, and looked over at Alex with something like hope mixed with fear in his eyes. Alex stared right back, because at this point, he really wasn’t interested in pretending that they didn’t mean something to each other. And he hoped Guerin would drop the “I’m a lone wolf and I don’t care” act too, at least when he was with him.

Whatever Guerin saw on his face, seemed to satisfy him. He smiled, the kind of smile that reached his heart and soul, and said,

“You trying to hold my hand now, private?”

And they did.

—————————

Alex woke up in screaming. Next thing he knew, he was in Guerin’s arms.

He didn’t remember the dream. But he could easily guess the content. It was always the same. Bomb, blood, cries, he looked down, his leg was gone. Sometimes his father was there, sometimes he wasn’t. Either way, he felt his presence.

Normally, after he woke up from such a dream, he would do some breath exercise, get up, get some water, and didn’t even try to sleep again. But tonight, Guerin was right there, humming something like a lullaby, and rubbing soothing circles on his back. He didn’t say anything, or ask how he was doing, just held him and gently rocked him.

At some point, maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour later, they lied down, together on Alex’s bed. Guerin’s hand slowly reached down, until he touched his stump. He rubbed it once, twice, and then he just stayed there.

Alex fell sleep.

——————————

Friday movie nights became some sort of tradition between them. They would finish their work, meet at the house, grab something to eat, and then drive to the drive-in theatre. Alex liked those nights, hell, he cherished those nights.

So he was very irritated when some shitty client just didn’t know what it meant to demand something WITHIN REASON, and he had to cancel their movie night via a short text. He was even more irritated when said client walked out in the last minute, so his previous work was totally wasted. Plus his new prosthetic was giving him trouble all day. Safe to say he was not in the greatest mood.

When he got home though, he was met by Guerin’s soft smile and homemade dinner. By the time they finished eating, he felt more or less like human again. Then Guerin gave him a dessert, told him to rest a bit on the sofa, and disappeared in the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, he pulled Alex into the bathroom, where he already drew a bath for Alex.

He even lit some candles.

All of a sudden, Alex wanted to cry, except he hadn’t cried in ten years.

So he let out a shaky breath, buried himself in Guerin’s arms, and asked a stupid question.

“Why did you do all this?”

Guerin held him, shifted somewhat awkwardly, and said in a quiet voice.

“You spelled ‘bail’ wrong.”

Of all the answers, THAT was not what Alex expected.

“What?”

“Your text. I guess you meant to say you had to bail on our movie night. But you spelled it ‘ball’. Auto correct or something. And you never spelled wrong. So I figured, you must be exhausted.”

At that, Alex just HAD to kiss him.

—————————

They visited Greg together on a Saturday morning.

At the drive home, Alex was awfully quiet.

Michael didn’t ask. He made coffee. He fetched a blanket. He sat beside Alex on the sofa, and began to read his monthly mechanic magazine.

Alex talked before he decided he wanted to.

“My father was a piece of shit. And out of my three brothers, Greg is the only decent one. But when we were kids, he didn’t know how to protect me or stand up for me, when my father beat the shit out of me.”

Michael dropped his magazine, and silently held his hand. And Alex decided he wanted to keep talking.

“I wanted to make music. He sent me to war. Frankly, war wasn’t even a worse choice than my so called home. It just wasn’t a better choice either.”

“I never felt I belong anywhere, not at home. Not at war. I bought the house because Greg asked me to, because he was the only one who reminded me a shred of the ‘home’ concept. But today, seeing him with his family, I realized, he is my family, but he is not home.”

“I still don’t belong.”

He hadn’t cried for ten years. He didn’t want to begin now.

Expect the hands wiping his tears were so gentle, he couldn’t seem to stop.

“I was offered a great job opportunity in New York, when I finished my study at UNM. But four years apart from Max and Isobel were tough enough that I decided to ditch that and move back.”

“I never felt I belonged, too, what with the fucked up system and shitty foster homes, except when I was with them. So I clung to them, a little bit desperately. When they moved away, I felt betrayed, left out and abandoned. I didn’t want to live in my airstream anymore because it felt like a fantasy I built, just to fool myself into thinking I could have followed them anywhere in it, because they were my harbor. But then they were gone, so I decided I wasn’t supposed to settle in anywhere, and that’s when I began to squat in people’s not lived in houses. Because they are just like me, you know, abandoned.”

“Until you invited me to live with you.”

They held each other a long time after that.

—————————

The email came on a Wednesday morning, and Michael was on the plane that very night to LA, because Liz was going into labor and Michael would become an uncle.

He asked Alex to come with him, but he was caught up at work so he just couldn’t make it.

They called each other every day though, Michael showed him so many baby pictures he even dreamed about it one night. He was vibrating joyful energy and Alex was happy for him.

Then on the fourth night since he was gone, he called Alex, hesitation evident in his voice.

“Liz pulled some strings at her university. And they offered me a job here.” He said, without so much as a hello.

Alex felt the world shook for a moment. Then he blinked, and the house seemed the same, intact, but somehow much quieter, and larger.

“I’m happy for you.”

An exhale.

“You are happy for me.” Michael repeated, slowly.

Alex shut his eyes. He thought of all the times Michael looked at the photos of the three of them, and all the times he seemed to be lost after he ended their phone calls, and he opened his eyes again.

“They are your family.” He said simply.

Another exhale.

“Yeah, they are.”

Silence.

After three minutes of nothing else, Alex hung up.

——————————

Michael came back on Tuesday afternoon.

Alex had not been sleeping well, or eating properly, so at first he thought he might be dreaming or something.

But there he was, clearly not been sleeping well, or eating properly himself, eyes glaring with fond anger.

“You are a dumbass, you know? You’re just gonna give me up like that?”

Alex refused to back down.

“It’s not giving up. You always wanted a family, a home. I don’t wanna stand between you and your opportunity of that.”

Michael shook his head, sighed, and pulled Alex into his arms.

“You still don’t understand, do you? They are my family, true. But YOU are my home.”

And there, stood in his embrace, Alex finally understood.

#alexweek2020 #day 1: home can be a person #malex #malex fic #my fic #alex manes #michael guerin

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drangues · 3 years

Note

You can’t see it but I’m pointing and saying that you’re the one who gets me because I also love cheesy stuff. Also I’ve been a nerd over Many things in the past- Mythology, geology, psychology, computers, characters in a franchise I don’t like but I love This One Person, etc. Have I stuck with any of these things long enough to be Smart and Cool and Know A Lot? Absolutely not. But my anxiety dictates that I’ll annoy anyways. (Nyanon, 1/6)

Putting my annoyingness aside, the ones that are your favorites aren’t basic!!! They had an impact on you that makes you cherish them, and that’s important! My Neighbor Totoro is probably one of the most well known (and therefore “basic”) films they’ve released, but it’s super important to me anyways. But yes, the two of them would look adorable in the Ghibli style,,, I can even imagine them just. Dressing up as Howl and Sophie for like, a convention or something, it’d be great. (Nyanon, 2/6)

And listen he has to be doing Something with books!!! He loves them, and I feel like he’d love being able to restore or take care of them in someway, even if they are inanimate objects and it makes him feel a bit silly for being so attached. If he isn’t doing restorations or bindings, then he’s definitely a librarian. Also!!! Imagine that Kyouka’s little familiar was a gift from Atsushi,, Maybe it’s Byakko??? Like, tiny striped kitty Byakko. (Nyanon, 3/6)

I think that’d be cute, but it’s been a while since I’ve been able to watch Kiki’s Delivery Service, so I might be a bit off on how that works. And! I like to imagine that, when he’s turned into a wolf, his ability doesn’t work? Because Reasons, so he and an equally fluffy Atsushi often curl around and on top of each other, it’s adorable. Also imagine Dazai’s frustrations with his new instincts. He keeps wanting to immediately run after anything that moves. (Nyanon, 4/6)

He can’t stop chasing his own tail when it pops up, in and out of wolf form? And he doesn’t know HOW Atsushi avoids growling and making noises at Every Little Thing that bothers him. It’s exhausting and Atsushi is just vining with all of it. Anyways, onto another Scenario Concept: Atsushi getting to try out new hobbies! Because at the orphanage, all he could really do was read, but now that he’s out, he can try all sorts of things, even if he doesn’t end up staying with it. (Nyanon, 5/6)

Cooking and baking? I think we’ve already discussed that he’d Love it. Creating artwork? Not really up his alley, but he really admires people who stick with it! Singing and playing music? He’s a bit too shy to do it in front of others, but he likes listening. Just. Atsushi being able to figure what he does and doesn’t like with the help of the people around him. (Nyanon, 6/6)

ill tell you as many times as you want that youre N O T annoying im having Beef with your anxiety m8 pull UP and thank you uwu, ive been told that theyre Basic so oftentimes ill say “i know it’s basic-” to save the person from having to remark something negative about the movies SMH and im glad you find comfort in Totoro uwuwu (godammit now i definitely wanna draw atsushi and dazai cosplayers in a convention dressed as sophie and howl AAAAAAA)

atsushi very much loves books!!! kyouka would probably be chilling on the rooftop of the book store, old radio that atsushi found beside her playing some music (yes atsushi also likes to collect Old stuff and vintage stuff as well) and then she just thinks “HMMM I WANNA GO ON MY WITCH ADVENTURE NEXT FULL MOON” (which is in tWO days) and as she goes to tell atsushi that atsushi almost messes up the book hes trying fix because hes in SHOCK “kyouka? what do you mean? what should i do about the movie tickets then?” “Cancel them! im going!” *cue staring in cluelessness before snapping back into reality and scrambling after an already packing kyouka*

(i imagine that kyouka is an orphan like atsushi but she knows that her family is a lineage of witches cus she became an orphan when she was like. seven or six so she KNOWS and when she started living with atsushi he just supported her and her traditions)

and then atsushi calls the small circle of friends they have and tells them that “hey!! kyouka is going in two days!!” and theyre like oH SHIT NO WAY REALLY (i imagine its koyo, yosano, fukuzawa and lucy are the people that are in their circle of friends that see kyouka off)

while byakko is atsushi and kyoukas Cat he definitely gives byakko to her as hes crying and saying that she needs to have a friend from home before she makes new ones and kyoukas like “ill be Back dont worRY-”

KENJI IS THE BOY SHE MEETS AT THE TOWN SHE SETTLES FOR AND THEY ARE CUTE AND FALL IN LOVE IM SORRY AAAA- i just ship them okay they would be very cute

and then later on that night when kyouka is gone and everyone went home atsushi closes the book shop but then Somebody walks in and its the WITCH and they C U R S E him and he becomes OLD and hes like “i cant let everybody else see me like this” and FLEES to try and find whoever cursed him or however he can Lift this dumb curse cause he does not want kyouka to come home to change, he just wants her to comfortably come back and fall into her usual routines without much of a shock

and so he meets Dazais Moving Castle and i imagine chuuya being the angry calcifer and akutagawa being dazais quiet but Cant Say No underling (which is so CUTEEE) and they. its just. Yes. (chuuya is smitten but doesnt which is why he gives in to atsushi so fast that it surprises dazai) either way all that drama happens and now atsushi is back with a new boyfriend (read: husband), a same aged friend, and an angry former Flame which is Not what atsushi accepted but hey, kyouka is back with a heart filled with romance so she cant be too shocked at atsushi also being in love

sorry i went on a whole tangent there

anyways, werewolf dazai!!

dazai: how do you deal with this?

atsushi, dead serious: i ignore it like i ignore my hunger

dazai:

(wait side note do you think atsushi would unconsciously do stuff he doesnt realise that he just,,,,Doesnt need to do anymore?? like for example he’ll be like “ah i cant i gotta do all of this torturous work before actually letting myself relax” and then he’ll realise wait,,,,i Can relax now,,,why wouldnt i be able to .What Do U Think Nyanon)

PIGGY BACKING OFF OF WHAT I SAID THAT REALISATION WILL PROBABLY MAKE ATSUSHI TRY OUT NEW HOBBIES ! ! ! AND IT’S JUST SO CUTE

#anon #ask #ask anon #anon ask #nyanon #nyatsushi anon #bsd

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disslve · 4 years

Text

𝐲𝐞𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐰 & 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐝𝐲 ! this is nai and my cowboy ass is here to throw roxy @ u and also tell u bad jokes and cry over life is strange 2 because i’m still not over this game and I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT. just a heads up, i came up with roxy on a whim because this rp just looked so good, so if it seems like i don’t know what i’m talking about ... it’s most likely the case whoops . ( this is an excuse for me bringing shitty muses ). anyway, my fake cowboy ass loves to ramble so if you’re interested in plotting feel free to LIKE this post or hmu. i forgot to mention that i’m also a fake grandma so idk anything about discord at all and i still need to set it up which will happen in the next few days dsdnsdsdn.

ps: wanted connections/plots can be find in my wanted tag ( a link is on my blog ) and i’ll also list some below !

EDIT: discord name is nai #7158

* [ kristine froseth + cis-female + she/her ] —— have you met roxanne ‘roxy’ bailey ? they are a twenty-two year old junior currently studying romance languages and literatures. they live on decker house and word around campus is that this scorpio is compassionate + dedicated, as well as impatient + dishonest. i wonder if they’ll make it out alive.

basics.

full name: roxanne elise bailey

nicknames: roxy, rox

sexual orientation: bisexual

birth place: valencia, spain ( but only lived there for five years )

history.

one could say that roxy had lived an easy life, though her parents weren’t distinguished by their social status, it didn’t mean they lacked money which was enough to support their daughter in whatever she wanted to do.

truth to be told, roxy was indeed a little spoiled, the type of kids who would try all kind of things on the expenses of their parents only to quit a new ‘hobby’ again. she could barely stick to anything. she was some twisted kind of golden child, good at many things but never had the patience to continue something for long enough to cultivate it.

skipping over the part where she almost tried everything from arts, music etc. she finally found her passion ( and even roxy herself was surprised ). figure skating. she didn’t know what drew her in, she couldn’t explain it, she tried it and it felt right. roxy always describes the feeling as finding a soulmate if she feels extra dramatic that day.

unsurprisingly, she was good at it. not that kind of good at something she was at all the other things she tried before, but that being good at which stemmed from genuine interest. maybe, that is why she managed to get so far. and it didn’t take too long that people even started to call her a figure skating prodigy.

at this point at her life, she had it all, spinning the stars on her fingertips ( or warning bad pun ahead: spinning on the ice ). until, well, her parents company was in some crisis and they had to cut corners in the meantime. also oh so ‘conveniently’ roxy lived at the arse end of nowhere and getting to her practices was now even more difficult because as mentioned before they had to save their money for more necessary things. of course, there were more things , small and big, which totally threw her off ( which i am too lazy to list rn).

roxy tried to work part time, but a) the money wasn’t enough b) she didn’t want to cut more hours of training she managed to get. AND well, here comes the turning point and roxy thinking she was oh-so-smart without realizing that it would cost her career. oh-so-smart roxy came up with the idea to , well, just steal some stuff. after all, she trained with many other wealthy peers and she could just sell off their stuff or something.

at the beginning she only did it to afford certain things she needed, but soon it somehow became an addiction. she felt in control when everyone else in her life was an utter mess. however, the more she took things away from others the more she felt comfortable, doing it more often and sometimes taking things which weren’t even worth that much. it was only a matter of time until she was caught. and as if she was lucky for too long, the person who caught her pressured her into either giving them a hefty sum of money (which she didn’t have) or to quit figure skating. she decided for the latter.

well, here she was and her sudden departure was quite a shock. but she had no choice and stated it was for personal reasons.

skipping over her being devastated over it, etc. her parents managed to save their company (whatever this company is) but at this point it was already too late and roxy was accepted into holloway.

right now she actually wants to pick up her figure skating career again, however, she’s too afraid that the blackmailer is going to expose her and also she doesn’t really know who they are (lets pretend they wrote her letters, txt messages >??) and also she’s kind of afraid due to the lack of practice she had .

personality.

okay i’ll keep this short bcs i wrote way too much for her background story. but to sum it up, roxy kind of has that perfect girl facade. considering how many friends roxy has and how social she appears to be it is odd that no one seems to be able to describe her. roxy doesn’t want people to know who she truly is, and she keeps her distance as she actively avoids conflicts that might cause her to say something wrong and exposes herself.

she shields her feelings by only presenting polished version of herself, the facade of the perfect girl: kind, hard-working and polite. someone whose life is easy and someone who looks like she doesn’t have any worries. it doesn’t mean she isn’t anything of that, but it’s not as if her kindness has no bounds or that she doesn’t need to put effort into the things she does. nevertheless, she believes that she must be perfect in order to make people like her. and while, she is pretty good at masking her emotions and smile along, as soon as someone threatens to see past the illusion, she will become defensive and won’t hesitate to lie in order to preserve it.

plots.

best friends: although roxy pretty much keeps her distance from everyone else, this person had always stood by her side. maybe they knew about roxy’s sudden wannabe-thief phase ( which she is still in ) and well tried to talk her out of it ( which obviously didn’t work ). also adding some drama here and maybe they had a big argument over it and distanced from each othr because of it. however, my angst ass doesn’t want to ruin it and they’ll rekindle their friendship. they might meet again at holloway and it’s awkward at first, maybe they even have some arguments but they’ll get over it because everyone loves a good rekindled friendship story.

annoyance: someone who gets under roxy’s skin.seeing past the perfect girl face and constantly calling her out on it. maybe they just have fun annoying her and want to see what she really likes or they just don’t like roxy , thinking that beneath all of this act, she is a really unpleasant person. perhaps, they’re even doing it with good intentions and want to show her that she doesn’t need to hide who she is. whatever it is, they’re determined to expose to the world who she really is.

pen pal ??: muse a and roxy had been friends for a very long time, yet the funny thing is that they’ve never met each other nor do they know what the other look like. all they know is their name ( or maybe they only know each other by their usernames ) and their deepest secrets. maybe they already have crossed paths many times and perhaps even know each other but don’t like each other irl. or they never had noticed the other.

blackmailer: BECAUSE WHY NOT??? the person who forced roxy to give up on figure skating. maybe, they were a rival or just didn’t like her, or any other reason. they might as well, have noticed that roxy is secretly training again and might be back at their shit again.

exes: GIVE ME THE ANGST, maybe muse a and roxy used to be in a serious relationship and as naive they were back then both of them thought this love would last forever. however, at some point roxy started to distance herself from muse a, constantly cancelling their dates because of their busy schedule. at first muse a tried to be understanding towards her, but as time passed things only got worse. roxy hating any kind of conflict just decided to ignore the problem instead about talking about it and eventually stopped replying to muse a messages. muse a never really got to know the real reason behind their break up and was left with unanswered questions. but anything works

unrequited love: (this is just me throwing in my favourite way to make myself suffer) It doesn’t matter who is the one with the the one sided love because i just want some good angst.a) muse a has a crush on roxy, yet they never told her about it. yet, muse a can’t hide it and it doesn’t take too long until roxy notices it. but instead of trying to talk to muse a about it, roxy just ignores it acting as she usually does and perhaps even give them false hope that she might like them back. maybe muse a even confessed to her and because roxy didn’t want to hurt them she told muse a she’d think about it.

b) roxy has a crush on muse a but doesn’t admit it. she doesn’t want to show their vunerable side and just plays it down. maybe they’re friends and roxy doesn’t want to lose another friend. but one day she confesses to muse a on accident, making everything awkward between them.

someone she stole from: idk i thought this would be fun ? maybe she confessed to them about it or maybe they caught her but decided to not confront her about it.

fan: someone who used to watch her perfomances on their tv and is still not over the fact that she quit.

i also have a connection page on my blog if these are too specific or none of these work

i’m too tired to come up with more dsdsdnjsd but gimme everything !! THE ANGST, FLUFF, DRAMA PLS!!!

#did i use a special font just to highlight the yeehaw ?? yes #holloway.intro #this got so long djssdsdn

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sionnachoir · 3 years

Note

FT Request: Chapter 516 from the POV of Wendy/Wendy's heartbeat

(i rewrote this like 4 times fhjgfbdj i hope u like it tho! i kinda followed the anime more. also cliffhanger ig? It got p long n i was lime yall r gonna end up catching some z’s if i go on anymore)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood

Words: 1,870

“Give me my life back!” The redhead called out angrily. “I don’t want this wretched body!” Erza used her sword to stop herself from flying back any further, her eyes full of determination as she gazed at her mother.

“Then I’ll free you from your misery!” Her voice was strong and steady, Wendy had always admired how strong she was. “Wendy!” Wendy nodded, already knowing what needed to be done without having to hear it. “Right! All physical abilities up! Deus Eques!” The now pink haired dragon slayer called up, energy forming around her as she cast the enchant.

Erza prepared to attack, Irene grinned smugly. “Clever. Separation enchant. Deus Zero!” Wendy frowned. “I cancel your Deus Zero with my own Deus Zero!” Irenes eyes widened. “She can cast such high-level enchanter spells?” Worry briefly slipping into her before she shook it off, grinning as Erza readied her sword.

“This is the end.” The younger redhead called out, preparing to strike down her mother. She made contact, her sword hitting her in the head. Instead of falling down like she had expected she again spoke in an almost casual tone. “I finally see it, Erza.” She grinned. “I finally understand the truth behind enchanter magic.” Without giving either the time to respond she continued. “Was it because you were a baby?” She questioned to herself.

“Was it because you were family that it failed? Or because enchanting a personality onto a human is impossible to begin with? The answer is no.” Blood dripped from her face slowly, the dark red substance a contrast to her pale skin. “Now i see that compatibility was the key all along.” Ezra felt fear fill her, eyes widening.

“But now, standing before me, is one who is both a dragon slayer and an enchanter, with a young body that’s also safe from the dragon transformation.” A wicked grin took over her features, fists clenching. Wendy’s eye’s widened before she felt pulses run through her body. Fear began to fill her mind, was this woman really going to take her from her body?

Wendy’s mind went blank before another thought could even begin to cross. Erza spun around, looking at her with horror and worry. “You don’t mean-” She cut herself off, noticing a dark energy beginning to cover the young dragon slayers body. “Ahh, how long I’ve waited for this.” Erza’s eyes widened, she still sounded like Wendy. “Her magic will be weaker but that’s fine.” Erza felt sick, she couldn’t hurt her.

“Wendy!” She called out, her voice filled with desperation. “A new body. A new life. Irene is reborn.” She grinned, it looked out of place on Wendy’s sweet features. “With this new body of mine.” Erza shook her head. “No, this can’t be.” Irene began to list off the injury's Wendy’s body had sustained. “Look at this body, how adorable.” Erza looked at her in anger before a choking noise caught her attention, she looked over to Irene’s old body, watching as it collapsed.

Wendy chucked. “That’s nothing but a pile of flesh now.” Erza spun around. “Where is Wendy?” She questioned, wondering what had happened to her. Irene’s reply felt as though someone had poured ice into her veins. “She’s nowhere anymore. Or... You could say she is me.” Erza clenched her teeth. “Enough of this! Get out of Wendy right now!” She demanded, anger fuelling her as she charged towards Irene.

Wendy laughed, the cruel sound sounded foreign coming from the young woman. “You dimwitted child.” Her voice was mocking. “This isn’t a form of possession!” She raised her leg before swinging it around to kick Erza in the stomach once she had gotten close enough.

“I have become this girl, literary! Sorry, but mom made herself young again without you. Her voice was teasing and it angered Erza more, Erza flew back from the impact of the kick. “You’re despicable!” She spat out, eyes widening as Irene aimed another attack.

All Erza could see was blue. “Hmm, my magic power hasn’t decreased as much as i thought. I guess this girl had that much potential to begin with.” Irene spoke to herself before addressing Erza. “Now, then. Playtime’s over.”

“It wouldn’t be right for this cute little girl to be a mother. So, as you can see, my new life cant begin..” She trailed off, preparing another attack to launch on her kin. Unleashing her power. “Until I’ve erased your existence!” Erza flew back with the force, her body hurting. Irene smirked to herself. “Sky dragon slayer magic.. Is this how it works?” She livitated into the air, hitting Erza with another attack.

She let out a pained groan. “Wendy! Push her out!” She shouted, hoping to get through to the young girl. Irene shook her head. “It’s no use. Her “Self” Is dead. As of today, I am Wendy. Wendy Belserion!” Erza wanted to cry, she couldn’t bare the thought of never seeing the little dragon slayer again.

Erza shook her head. “I wont..” She launched herself up, rocketing towards Wendy. “Let you take Wendy!” She was determined to bring her back, she wouldn’t leave her behind. Erza refused to.

She appeared a sword, ready to hit her target before her voice stopped her train of thought. “You really think you can cut this body?” Irene questioned, already knowing she couldn’t. Erza paused, a memory flashing before her eyes.

“Parting with a loved one always brings pain..” Erza’s voice was soothing as she rubbed Wendy’s back. “But your friends will sooth it.” Wendy turned to her, tears filling her eyes. “Come with us. To fairy Tail!” Erza offered, a kind, gentle smile gracing her features.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bring herself to hurt Wendy, so many memories flashed through her head. All the times they had spent together, the battles they had had. They all came rushing through her mind.

“This time, I’ll protect you.” The ghost of the words Wendy had muttered in the bath house flew past her, her hands shook as she held her blade. Irene struck her against the face, Erza let go of her sword. Her voice coming out in a choked, pained gasp.

“Your so soft.” The words sounded bitter. “Armour enchant, explode!” Erza cried out in pain. “Only minor wounds?” Erza’s voice was confused, Wendy was strong and so was Irene, It should’ve done more damage. Irene’s eyes widened in horror as she watched her old body begin to stand. “All attributes and resistances up... Deus Corona.” Wendy stood to her feet, struggling. “Since were both enchanters I thought I could do the same trick too. It took a little while.. but its me! its Wendy Mrs Erza!. Erza and Irene’s eyes were trained on her.

Wendy let out a breath, hand coming up to cup her breast. “This chest... is so hefty...” She trailed off. “This is not possible!” Irene shouted, anger etched onto her face. “This little girl performed a full personality enchantment?” She couldn’t believe what was happening in front of her.

Wendy grinned, the blood caking her forehead cracking. “Your magic power is incredible. Choosing to enter my body was a big mistake.” She began casting a spell, a fiery ball appearing between her hands which she launched at her body, telling Erza to duck. Irene tried to fight back using Wendy’s magic but was failing. “Separation enchant!” Wendy called out, she was getting her body back.

“You intend to drag me out of this body?” Irene called out, fear filling her voice. “Yes, your magic power is stronger, remember.” Wendy felt victorious watching Irene get dragged out of her body. “Just.. Who are you?” Irene called out, terrified at how this young girl could be so powerful.

“I’m taking my body back!” I’d love to have your large chest but I've lived my entire life in that small body!” Wendy spoke, her voice strong. “Curse you!” Irene shrieked, beginning to damage her own body. Erza’s eye’s widened in shock. “Let’s see you take it back now! it took so long to get this body! I wont give it back! I refuse.” Her voice was almost hysterical as she screeched.

Wendy frowned. “The scars on that body are symbols of the life I’ve lived. They're medals of honour i gained while fighting for fairy tail!.” She meant every word, every scar that covered that body was proof of what she had been through. Proof of how far she would go for the people she loved, she wasn't letting that get away. “I don’t care how much more scarred it gets! That body carries all the memories of the people it holds dear!.”

Erza had to shield herself from the force of their magic, she called out Wendy’s name. She felt moved by the young womans words, she could see how much she had grown in such a short time. She held nothing but adoration for her. She was incredible, she was strong.

“Damn you!” Irene called as she and Wendy were returned to the right bodies. Wendy stumbled, calling out Erza’s name before falling to her feet. Erza panicked. “Wendy, are you back?” She was desperate for an answer. “Yes.. Can I.. Leave the rest.. To You?” Erza smiled and nodded, of course she could. “I’ll put an end to this.”

“You wretched little girls.” A dark look filled the woman's face, Erza ignored her. “I’ll finish this quickly, Wendy.” Now she didn’t have to hold back, she would get revenge for her friend. “Quickly you say? Don’t make me laugh.” She sent out a blast, Erza dodging it quickly. “You’re dealing with 400 years of magic power!” Irene called out, sending off some red bubbles as Erza swiftly dodged them. Wendy watched anxiously, all she could do right now was lie there and watch as they fought.

The bubbles seemed to shoot out, trying to hit her yet she expertly dodged each one that chased her. “For 400 long years I’ve protected you. Yet you turned out completely useless when you were born! And now your denying me my happiness?” Rage filled Irene as she continued her attacks.

Erza ignored her words. “I understand the misery you’ve been through. But.. i cannot afford to loose!” She wouldn’t loose, for Wendy. Irene cursed her out. “What could you possibly know of my misery?” She was borderline hysterical. “After you abandoned me in that village a cult kidnapped me. For years they treated me as their proper.” Although Wendy had already know her heart still broke with Erza’s words.

“Sure its not much compared to your 400 years. But.. I became who I am now because of who I was then.” Her voice was steady and strong as she dove into the air, readying her sword. “I even met people I hold dear! And I overcame other painful events because my friends were there for me!” Wendy’s eyes teared up, she was incredible.

She landed the attack on Irene. “I despise your entire existence!” The older woman called out, anger fuelling her. I never should’ve had you! Die! Die! Die! Disappear forever!” Irene began to transform, scales covering her body as she clashed with Erza.

#sorry if this isn't what ya wanted #wendy marvell #fairy tail #one shot #short #imagine #fairy tail imagine #wendy marvell imagine #Anonymous #also srry for any mistakes ya boi aint slept in 3 days lmaoo

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rhinoswriting · 4 years

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A Life On The Road - Part 1 (A Luke Hemmings FanFic)

Overview: Elizabeth and Calum have been best friends since they were 15/14 respectively. Elizabeth is from and lives in the UK, but her family lived in Sydney for a brief 2 year period which is how the two met.

With Calum’s band, 5SOS, embarking on their biggest and most ambitious world tour to date, he has invited Elizabeth along to work as a photographer/content creator for their social media. This is in the hopes that travelling with them and getting to explore so many new cities will help Elizabeth achieve her dream of becoming a full-time travel writer.

Elizabeth is acquainted with the rest of 5SOS but doesn’t know them tremendously well. Obviously that changes as they are all forced to be in one another’s company for the duration of the tour. As the tour progresses and new friendships blossom, Elizabeth feels the connection between her and Luke grow more and more.

A/N: This chapter is a lot of story set-up and introduces you to the protagonist.

****************************************************************************

I lent my upper back against one of the work kitchen walls and peered out of the window beside me. Any other day, the grey curtain of drizzle would have perfectly matched my work mood. But today was not a normal work day for me. Today was my last day in this hell hole. I was finally getting out of here to pursue my dream of becoming a travel writer. I hugged my mug of coffee closer, content in the knowledge that nothing was going to step on my good mood today.

“I cannot believe you are leaving me with these people.” Drew complained as he walked over and lent some of his weight onto my shoulder while cradling his own steaming mug.

“I am sorry that I’ll be leaving you here. I truly am.” I told him, and I meant it, “But you know as well as I do how much this place can drag a person’s mental health down. So when a best friend offers to let you piggyback off their career to help launch you own, you take it and make the sacrifice of abandoning your work husband.”

“I hate that you have a famous best friend.”

“Don’t be a bitter bitch,” I laughed nudging him in the side with my elbow.

Drew and I chatted for a minute or two more before making our way back to our desks at opposite ends of the office. When I got to mine I noticed that someone (probably my manager or Josie, the company busy body) had taken my second coffee break of the morning as an opportunity to place an envelope and small gift bag by my keyboard. As I placed my coffee down I noticed that the people on my bank of desks had swivelled their chairs, and thus their attention, in my direction. I also heard the tell-tale sound of high heels on cheap carpet tiles that indicated Josie was making her way over.

“Elizabeth,” Josie cooed in her usual fake friendliness, “I can’t believe it’s your last day here already! We did a small collection for you in order to say goodbye and give you something to remember us by. It’s been such a great three years and eight months working with you. We’re all sad to see you go.”

“Thanks, Josie. I certainly will miss how precise you are with details.” I said trying not to make my sarcasm too obvious.

I rummaged in the tissue paper hoping to bring this moment in the spotlight to an end as soon as possible. First I pulled out a small, sleek rectangle. Through the plastic window of the box I spied a matte black fountain pen -it was a genuinely lovely pen which surprised me. Next I pulled out a small bottle of Kraken rum -my go to with Coke on work nights out- which was followed by a second, identical bottle. The fourth and final leaving gift was a new 10 shot pack of film for my Instax Mini camera.

“Thanks guys...” I awkwardly addressed the room, “These are all really thoughtful and nice. I love the pen. Uhh, yeah, thanks again. Stay cool and all that cliche stuff.”

I promptly sat down and unlocked my PC to indicate that the show was over and I should now be left the fuck alone.

The company’s internal IM program was flashing at me in orange, indicating I had an unread message.

[Drew Clarke - 10:47 am] I am so sorry they are putting you through this. You look so awkward. I can see you blushing from here. It is hilarious though :’D I made such a big deal about the stupid pen they wanted to get you having to be matte black Also my leaving gift to you is that I have done everything in my power to ensure Josie knows nothing about your leaving drinks tonight

I responded with a simple gif of some character I didn’t know mouthing ‘thank you’ to acknowledge his last message and then went back to work trying to complete as much of my remaining work as possible.

The rest of the day dragged on as it would any other day of the week. The only difference was that I had the occasional desk visit from a colleague to wish me luck or let me know they’d be at the leaving drinks Drew had arranged for me that evening.

And then Drew was at my desk before the clock had even hit 5 pm,

“Start packing your shit up then. We’ve got a bar to get to.”

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

My leaving drinks were actually surprisingly fun. Which was as much of a good thing as it was a bad thing.

It was good because who doesn’t love people buying them either shots or rum and cokes? Plus Drew and I had had a beautiful drunken moment where we gushed over how much we treasured each other’s friendship and would definitely, definitely stay in touch always, and who doesn’t love those moments?

It was bad because I got in at 3:30 am, set an alarm for 6 am and left my house for the train station at 7 am with a hangover headache already brewing.

My morning then got worse when I remembered I had to change trains at Sheffield. Non-direct train journeys are enough of a pain without a hangover, rucksack, camera bag and 2-wheeled large carry-on suitcase to slow you down.

When I finally, and ungracefully, settled myself on the platform at Sheffield I glanced around to locate where I could get myself a coffee and some form of breakfast. I had a 50 minute wait until my next train so there was plenty of time to try and nurse my hangover with coffee and carbs before getting crammed into another train and eventually reuniting with Cal in Edinburgh.

I spotted a place on the next platform over with indoor seating and made my way to it. Once inside the warmth of the glass rectangle I grabbed a twin pack of almond biscuits from the counter display and ordered a large cappuccino as well as a breakfast bagel. I then went and dumped all my luggage (promptly followed by myself) down at the nearest table and waited for my name to be called over the mellow jazz music.

Once I had returned to my table with my breakfast order, I opened my phone to check my messages and view the photographic damage from the night before. As I sipped my coffee I opened my photos app and was pleased when nothing embarrassing immediately jumped out at me from the 50+ square icons of photos and boomerangs that I had very little memory of taking. Most of the photos were blurry and every single boomerang was a fail, so I deleted them to save storage space on my phone. There was a super cute selfie of Drew and I, with his fiance, Adam, photo-bombing us in the background. It made me smile so much that I set it as the lock screen on my phone.

Next I moved on to my messages. There we unread messages awaiting me from Drew, Cal, my mum and weirdly my now ex-manager.

Manager Si: Didd u mange t geet home ok?/?. Gd luk w everythin

Work Hubby: I miss you already. Hope you got home safe! Text me by midday so I know you’re still alive x

Mum: Good luck on this big new adventure of yours! Do not forget to call us when time zones allow. Your Dad and I will always b here to support you and cannot wait to see you succeed. Say hi to Calum for us. Mum & Dad Xx

Cal: Hey, hey! So stoked to see you later and have you come oN FREAKING TOUR WITH ME!!! See ya in Edinburgh! X

I responded first to my mum, because I was raised right. I flat out ignored my old manager’s drunk text. I assured Drew that I was still alive because if I was dead it wouldn’t feel like there was a gremlin hammering away inside my skull. I followed that up with a screenshot of my new lock screen. Finally, I replied to Calum:

Morning :) Feeling rough after my leaving drinks last night. Have I already begun my new rock n’ roll lifestyle?! So fucking excited to see you again!! You are not prepared for the hug you’re gonna get! X

With everyone replied to (or ignored in Si’s case) I put my phone face down on the table and tucked into my breakfast bagel. Then as I still had 20 minutes to kill I thought what better place to slap some make-up on than the middle of a train station coffee shop?

Looking and feeling more human, I made my way from the coffee shop to platform 4 as they announced my train was about to arrive.

I hopped on carriage L, placed my luggage in the overhead rack and settled into my seat for the next 3+ hours. I quickly shot a text to my parents and Cal, letting them know I was on my last train. Then I pulled my noise cancelling headphones on, opened up a relaxing Spotify playlist and promptly fell asleep.

#luke hemmings fanfiction #luke hemmings fanfic #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #luke hemmings

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