#also I love on how my brain has forgotten every fandom I’m in past and present

[lunalikestowriteanddraw]

So there are apparently also ship bingos, and I just learned that technically these are for an ask game. So, uh, if you care at all about my opinion on certain characters and/or ships from one of the fandoms listed below, then send me a character or ship name and I’ll respond with bingo cards relating to that character/ship.

Fair warning tho, I won’t hold back. So if I dislike a character or ship, I’ll make that known. Just letting yall know. Also the only ship I won’t respond to for any fandom is Character x Self/OC/Reader/etc. it has to be Character x Character to avoid bias (bc at that point, I might as well just do a character bingo)

Fandoms!

—Baldur’s Gate 3 (excluding Character x Tav/Durge)

—Undertale (excluding Deltarune)

—Legends of Avantris (specifically Once Upon a Witchlight and Icebound)

—Critical Role (specifically Campaigns 1 and 2, as well as their respective cartoons)

—Five Nights At Freddy’s (excluding the books)

—Gravity Falls

—Legend of Zelda (excluding books)

—Adventure Time

—Steven Universe

[gohandinhand]

Top 5 fave fanfics you've ever read

"pls nothing that requires research" -> this lmao. could i help myself anyway? no. i went and retrieved my laptop from the dining room and brought it to bed to start digging into this. me at 10:15pm:

but here’s the deal: there’s no way in hell i can give you my fave fics of ALL time. i’ve been reading fic for many years, some of them on sites that no longer exist. there are several “sorry, this fic has been deleted!” entries in my ao3 bookmarks. a lot of those years were also in the hp fandom, which is not a topic i’m willing to revisit given the situation now, despite the fact that i read many incredible hp fics & crossovers. 

also, my memory is swiss cheese! but i can give you 5 fics that come to mind as ones i’ve revisited time and time again over the years. for many of these, i feel an enduring gratitude for it as a work that introduced me to the author(s) as someone whose writing i want to follow. & some of them became buddies which is! cool! for me. it’s an hour past my bedtime now so here’s what springs to mind:

you’re magic & you’re real by @unicyclehippo and @possibilistfanfiction (who also has a bunch of tumblr ficlets for this au under #gaf au) [the 100, clexa] it’s been 7 years and i still reread it at least annually. the universe, this version of these characters - it is precious to me. tender. 

You Still Make Sense to Me (Your Mess is Mine) by @emilyjunk [pitch perfect, bechloe] angie is going to kill me for this in the morning because she wants it to be forgotten she ever wrote bechloe lmao but! despite that! i still reread this regularly. they’re so dumb and i love them so much. i can’t keep saying ‘tender’ yet that’s how i feel about this one too! 

Something Suspiciously Close to Hope by @hedaswolf [the 100/Stranger Things crossover, clexa] ok, i did watch most of the first season of stranger things before it got too scary for me and never picked it up again. however, the wholesome ache this induces is the right palate cleanser for certain kinds of despair. 

The Key to Byzantium by MarcusRowland [buffy/stargate sg1 crossover] wildcard, stargate was my parents’ fandom when i was a kid lmao. a decade and a half and it’s just a casual thing i want to have fun bopping to every so often! 

the wn fandom has so so so many incredible fics & writers, but the fandom is too new to have any idea yet of what fics will endure for me. but so far show me something of a reckoning by @lucytara [warrior nun, avatrice] is something i have already reread… a ridiculous number of times. some phrases in this are so delicious & sticky for my brain that when i was writing pnw au i actually had to go check to make sure i wasn’t accidentally plagiarizing (and caught it a few times, whoops!)... it's absolutely incredible. have a good feeling about the staying power on this one.

[ambroise-framboise]

Hermitcraft deserves more crossovers. So have this post about Hermitcraft and Katekyo Hitman Reborn bc current and past fandoms colliding makes the brain go brrrr.

This will not make a lot of sense if you’re not at least slightly familiar with the KHR world btw.

This is a “Hermits get dropped in a random world, proceed to baffle everyone” kind of crossover. My first reflex was to have a Hermit be Skull. Look, a Hermit can and will qualify for the title of “Strongest Flames”, so the Arcobaleno part works. The question then was ; WHICH ONE would play Skull. The whole “goofy and undying” part of the Skull persona made me think of Scar, bc man is he talented at this kind of stuff. BUT ! I’m sorry but Scar, Concorps Convex Scar is a Mist. So not Scar.

Who then ? I tried to figure out which Hermit had which flame (that’s hard, I don’t watch every single hermit and also the personality has to somewhat fit). Some are easy-ish, like Mumbo being a storm bc red like redstone and destruction (Mumbo Kills a Lot Jumbo my beloved), and Tango too maybe. Bdubs is a Sun, it makes sense in my head. Cub is Mist, bc Convex again. Joe is... Mist and Rain probably ? Doc might be a lighning and a storn, idk. Xisuma is a Sky, of course. Who would be Skull ? In the end, I was like ; okay, mischevious enough to create an annoying persona, love stunts, associated with the color purple... Grian. Is it the best fit ? No. Do I care ? Also no. So what happens ? Hermits get yeeted into a new world, and deal with it like they can, being both very chaotic and efficient. They carve themselves a little place in some almost empty part of the world, far from civilisation. Xisuma, our beloved admin, notices that the world is in Hardcore (aka no respawns) and decides that it won’t do. Hacker man powers, puts everyone back in survival. They are effectively immortal. Nice.

Some travel sometimes, and they still love roleplaying, which is how Grian (under the name Skull) ends up being a stunt artist, and gets contacted by Iron Hat Guy. Said dude has no idea who Skull is btw. He thinks he’s a civilian. Which, technically isn’t wrong. Grian does the Skull act, and the moment he can slips away to tell allll about Flames and Mafia and the Underworld to the rest of the Hermits. They are VERY interested, and a thing leads to another and oop they’re all Flame active and bonded and they made a new mafia family (maybe named the Hermits, maybe not).

It’s important to note that they don’t... really care about the murdery aspects of the mafia world ?? They’re very used to death games, and kinda assume that people just respawn in another world when they die. Many Shenanananangians laters (including Grian getting cursed to be baby, which makes every hermit laugh a lot, and Scar being like, terrifying to most of the mafia world), and we get to the sacrifice/big fight where all the Arcobalenos are supposed to get a team and fight each other. Now, instead of asking the flames of the earth guy (whose name i’ve forgotten rn, oop) Grian of course asks his friends.

The others Arcobaleno have no idea these guys existed (well, they had heard of the Hermits but had NO IDEA they were Skull’s Family) and are thus very surprise. Fighting happen, the hermits are overpowered bc HERMITS, and Kawahira arrives. Tries to punish everyone for rebelling and refusing to be a sacrifice/continue the endless cycle.

It looks bad, until ! TFC, beloved grandpa, man actually older than time (and older than Kawahira) and maybe Herobrine himself but who was retired, intervenes. Kawahira stands no chance and gets bonked into submission by a pickaxe. The problem gets solved, and then it’s a race to stop the resident scientist Hermits and Verde to bond over blowing up entire cities and making inventions of mass destruction.

I’d say THE END but it’s really not.

What do you think ? What Flames would YOU give to the Hermits, what events and interactions would you like to see ?? Send an ask or a comment ! I’ll answer as fast as I can

[stardustedknuckles]

One of the nice things about rewatching c2 (and one of the things I hoped for when I decided to do it) is finding that grasp I had on Beau before she and Yasha got together. Because I have spent so much time reveling in their growth that I have forgotten the qualities that informed all the fics I did before then - and they were and are my favorites. I personally felt on some level like Yasha and Beau would not have settled perfectly into things with their issues fully solved, and while I love to bask in the joy that canon gave us with how they did come together, I don’t feel like there was enough room for a more realistic exploration of what it means to feel safe after years of the opposite. Like, both of them have coping mechanisms that have served them for years and even with conscious effort you don’t just get rid of those once you feel safe. In fact, in my experience, safety itself can often trigger a lot of old behaviors if you literally are unused to it. Like if you aren’t constantly watching out for yourself your brain thinks something is wrong and it needs to be even more defensive and if you aren’t on the lookout for it it’ll mess you up.

Just thinking about how Beau required being beaten to near-unconsciousness to ever acknowledge that she wanted to be touched or to seek it out, how her association with touch as a concept is linked to her feeling of vulnerability and it’s a great thing that she wants to give that vulnerability to Yasha but I personally built my entire engagement with fandom on the push-pull of emotional constipation and being a bit of a fucked-up mess doing her best. It’s just nice, as I go through the rewatch, to be able to pick back up on all of that. Beau’s sense of feeling unsafe never had anything to do with Yasha - it wasn’t personal, it just kept her alive for a long time and there’s more value to me in playing out those insecurities and efforts (she’s bad at it, stumbling, but trying) than staying solely in the place where everything is great.

I do feel like Yasha had a more explicit and natural growth that we were able to see go further than Beau’s. We watched Beau grow enough to want to heal, finally, to set down all of that mistrust and open up, but we actually saw a lot of Yasha’s healing. I don’t think it’s unbalanced for her to be ahead of Beau, I think she knows Beau and what she’s asking for and getting into and that probably terrifies Beau as much as it delights her.

I’m just rambling at this point but I can’t wait to get my hands back inside of fics that lean on the very real issues the both of them face in the wake of the chantry and Kamordah and, eventually, beyond. I miss the bend before the break, the part of the story where we knew their feelings for each other and they knew their own feelings but not the other’s, where every interaction is layered with wanting something neither of them are even sure how to let themselves have or how to ask for it, especially since asking for it necessitates a kind of vulnerability they wouldn’t ask the other to show even if they could get past their own. I like characters with problems. It’s nice to be back in canon where I can see them because fanon has the overwhelming tendency, well-meaning, to scrub them out in favor of domestic bliss. And that bliss is beautiful and hard-fought, but it is also very, very secondary to what drew me to Beau and Yasha in the first place: someone who is unused to the freedom to choose, unsure how to even want, and someone who has only known want and fought tooth and nail for the power to choose what happens to her her entire life. Yasha learns to want and Beau is in many ways her blueprint. Beau gives up the little bit of control necessary to admit to herself that Yasha has gotten to her badly. And then they find a way to meet in the middle speaking the other’s language and ugh - they kill me. I love them so much.

[aethersea]

May I request 41 - First Kiss and 94 - Hair Brushing/Braiding for the Leverage OT3, please? (Also extra bonus points if you give Eliot beads in his hair like in The Ice Man Job, because we didn't get NEARLY enough of that in the show) Thank you!

I cannot believe I wrote this whole thing out and then never published it. I’m so sorry, it’s been at least twenty-four years since you sent in this ask, please accept my humble apologies and also this ficlet.

However, this prompt is just pure fluff, and I hate to tell you this but I am not a fluff writer. I just can’t pull off that unadulterated sweetness. I am in this fandom for the shenanigans, first, last and foremost! So this fic is now a 5+1 of Eliot and Parker trying to seduce Hardison.

1. Parker thinks they need to give him gifts, so she goes through her stash and picks out the largest, fanciest jewel she’s ever stolen. Then she realizes: Hardison likes stories. He spends hours giving their aliases histories and pets and allergies and favorite foods, he can get a whole sordid history of jealousy and betrayal from a single corporate email chain, and Parker knows for a cold fact that he writes little stories with his online friends about being wizards together.

She goes through her stash again and picks out the most cursed thing she’s ever stolen.

It’s a jeweled statuette, almost as tall as her forearm, made of gold and studded with precious and semi-precious stones. Mysterious deaths have befallen five separate owners of this thing. Its base is dented from the time it was used to bludgeon Owner Number Three to death. The tiny rubies it has for eyes follow you across the room.

Parker puts a bow on it and leaves it in Hardison’s room while he’s sleeping. He wakes up to this horrible little statue watching him from his bedside table.

He texts the group chat, Hey did anyone put an evil little gold guy in my bedroom last night? But Parker chickens out and says nothing (drunkenly betting Eliot that she can seduce Hardison is one thing, but admitting that she likes him is something else altogether). Everyone else texts back variations on “nope.” (Except Sophie, who just sends back a string of heart eyes emojis and a wikipedia link. She loves cursed artifacts.) So Hardison puts the statue away in a closet somewhere and figures he’ll deal with it later.

Parker is mildly offended that he put her gift in a closet. She goes into his room the next night and puts it back on the bedside table, where it clearly belongs.

This goes on for a week. Hardison puts the statue in a desk drawer, then in one of the cabinets in the office downstairs, then in the dumpster down the street. Every day he wakes up to those glittering red eyes watching him sleep. He’s asked his internet buddies if anyone knows a good exorcist. Hardison doesn’t really believe in curses, but also? What the fuck. What the fuck.

~

2. Eliot assumes the drunken bet will be forgotten by morning. What kind of world would it be if people always followed through on promises they made while they could barely stay vertical? So he spends the morning nursing his hangover and cleaning his knives. Cleaning guns is no good while hungover—all the snaps and clicks of popping things in and out of place sound like actual gunfire when you’re hungover, it’s a nightmare—but knives are quiet and have no moving parts. Buffing and polishing them is soothingly repetitive work, and every once in a while he can throw one at one of the dartboards on the walls and reassure himself that his reflexes are still sound even after that much tequila.

It’s only when he gets Hardison’s text about the golden statuette that magically appeared in his room overnight that Eliot realizes Parker’s actually going for it. After some internal debate about whether he’s going to stoop to this or not, Eliot decides what the hell and starts making plans.

Eliot agrees that gifts are the way to go, but not stolen gifts. Not things. Anyone can give a thing. Proper wooing is about giving experiences.

Eliot plans for three days. On the fourth day, he and Hardison have their irregularly scheduled monthly coffee date, and Eliot texts him beforehand to say he wants to do it at the brewpub this time. Hardison arrives to find a deceptively simple meal: basic country fare perfected through years of experimentation, made with the best ingredients Eliot can get his hands on. And Eliot, after all, is still a retrieval specialist. There’s very little in the world he can’t get his hands on.

And yet the night ends and somehow he has not gotten his hands on Hardison.

This is just not right. Eliot knows how to deploy a smolder, okay, Tangled reference aside he is damn good at flirting and he knows the looks he’s giving Hardison are clear as day. It’d be one thing if Hardison had turned him down, or if he’d been uneasily unwilling, or even if his eyes had widened slightly in suppressed panic and he’d abruptly found a reason to leave. Eliot can take rejection, bet or no, and he’d have bowed out graciously without a fuss. But this was much, much worse.

Hardison didn’t even notice he was flirting.

He’s going to have to up his game.

~

3. “How do you seduce people?” Parker asks bluntly, turning up at Sophie’s door just past midnight.

Sophie, despite the hour, is utterly delighted by the question.

This goes as well as you would expect.

~

4. Eliot’s taken a lot of dates to sports games. Hardison may prefer sparkly elves with purple lightning magic to a decent MMA fight, but baseball is the American pastime. Eliot gets them perfect seats, hot dogs from the best vendor in the stadium, even chilled beer that he smuggles in without letting it get warm. It’s going to be a perfect game.

And it is. At first. Hardison, it turns out, has a lot of opinions about baseball. What he does not have is an understanding of the rules. They’re not even into the second inning by the time Eliot finally snaps and starts arguing with him about it.

They make it all the way to the fifth inning before Eliot realizes that Hardison’s basing his complaints off the rules of a game from a Star Wars novel.

They’re at the bottom of the eighth before Eliot will speak to him again.

~

5. Eliot and Parker are drunk again. This is not intentional. They didn’t even mean to come to this bar, but the smoothie place with the fried oreos that Eliot had brought Parker here to try was playing such incredibly bad music that they’d ordered the oreos to go and fled. The bar was just the coziest looking place on the block, and of course they’d ordered drinks to avoid being rude––Eliot had entertained himself for a few minutes scouring the menu for something that would pair well with fried oreos and popcorn chicken.

And now they’re drunk. The conversation has, perhaps inevitably, turned to the ongoing bet.

“I tried everything!” Parker wails. “I laughed at every joke, I touched my hair constantly, I got him talking about things he likes.” She thunks her forehead on the bar. “All that happened is now I know the complete history of orcs in western literature.”

“Hardison wouldn’t know flirting if it pinched him on the ass,” Eliot grumbles.

Parker slaps his arm. “No pinching Hardison!”

“I’m not going to—I don’t pinch people!”

Parker’s ignoring him. Eliot pouts and takes another sip of his drink. He’s not entirely sure what this one is––it’s blue and kind of fizzy, that’s all he can say for sure. Parker took over the drinks menu several glasses ago, and she’s been picking them based on what has the most fun name to say. Eliot’s pretty sure the alcohol content’s been doubling with each order.

“Eliot,” Parker slurs, “we need to work together.”

“What?”

Parker lifts her head from the bar and frowns at him, the way she does when she’s figured out the obvious solution and is just waiting for everyone else to get on the same page. It’s adorable. It’s always adorable, but right now her eyes are wide and slightly unfocused from the alcohol and she’s listing sideways a little, almost as if she’s unbalanced, and it is the most adorable thing Eliot has ever seen. Parker’s never unbalanced, but some part of Eliot’s fuzzy brain thinks she’s about to fall on top of him and cannot wait to catch her.

“You can’t seduce Hardison,” Parker points out. Eliot is drunk enough to get offended by this, but too drunk to get out a complaint before she continues, “I can’t seduce Hardison. But if we work together, the two of us can definitely seduce Hardison. Together.”

Eliot stares at her. Then he takes another sip of his fizzy blue drink. Later, when questioned, he will blame his next words on that drink.

“Worth a shot.”

They take Hardison to a movie. They research for three weeks beforehand. They find the best movie theater in town, with the nicest seats, the biggest screens, and concession snacks that Hardison likes, and they buy tickets for the midnight premiere of the superhero movie that Hardison hasn’t shut up about for the past month. Parker even hacks into the theater’s computers in a last-minute fit of nerves and cross-references the credit cards with drivers’ licenses to make sure the people sitting in front of them won’t be too tall.

Parker witnesses a kidnapping in the parking lot while the boys are getting popcorn. They don’t even stay long enough to catch the commercials.

~

+ 1. “Hey Eliot,” Hardison says during movie night, a little over a week later. “Remember the Ice Man Job?”

Eliot groans. “I try not to.”

Hardison throws a piece of popcorn at his face. “Shut up. Remember how you did your hair for that one? With the little—those little beads on, like, a braid?”

Eliot shoots Hardison a suspicious glance. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Teach me how to do that.”

Eliot shoots Hardison another, more deliberate look, this one pointedly directed at Hardison’s complete lack of braidable locks.

Hardison rolls his eyes as if that’s a silly detail to get hung up on and leans forward to dig around in one of the boxes he has under his coffee table. He emerges with a ziplock bag of plastic beads in no time flat and hands it triumphantly to Eliot. Then he yanks a few cushions out from behind Parker, who’s sitting on his other side, and puts them on the floor in front of him. “Sit here?” he asks Parker, patting the cushion pile.

Parker takes a moment to consider being offended at having her cushions stolen, but curiosity gets the better of her and she just plops down between Hardison’s legs, grabbing the bowl of popcorn as she goes, and waits.

Hardison lifts her hair with sudden gentleness, drawing it over her shoulders and letting it fall down her back in a golden wave. His fingers brush against her neck. Parker shivers. Eliot is distantly aware that he’s gone perfectly still, focused with a hunter’s intensity on Hardison’s dark, graceful fingers carding through Parker’s hair.

Hardison leans back, hands on his knees, and Eliot breathes again. “Well?” Hardison looks over at Eliot, a tiny smirk of challenge on his lips. “Show me how it’s done.”

Eliot is suddenly, brutally aware of how close they are. Hardison’s couch is obscenely comfortable, which is half the reason movie nights are at Hardison’s in the first place, but it is not large. Their thighs are touching. Hardison leans away, to give Eliot access to Parker’s hair, and he’s still so close that Eliot would barely have to reach out a hand to—

Eliot ruthlessly shoves that thought down into the dark where it belongs. He dealt with this, he dealt with this years ago, and accepting Parker’s stupid bet doesn’t mean he’s forgotten the way Hardison and Parker look at each other. It just means he doesn’t mind losing for a good cause.

So he keeps his tone steady and his fingers brisk as he shows Hardison how to braid the clunky plastic beads into Parker’s hair, and if he flushes with heat when their hands brush each other, well, nobody has to know. He’s been trained to withstand eight different schools of torture. It won’t show on his face. His voice never once falters.

Parker has had no such training. Her lips have parted, and her breathing is shallow. She’s staring glassy-eyed at the TV. Hardison can’t see her face, sitting behind her, but Eliot watches her carefully, worried that they need to call this off. Parker’s not used to intimacy, to closeness that means something, and for all the three of them have spent half their movie nights literally on top of each other, this is something else. This has weight.

Eliot puts a hand on her shoulder, pressing down just enough that Parker startles and cants a glance over at him. Eliot raises his eyebrows in question, and Parker glares back: don’t you fucking dare. Eliot backs off. Hardison, frowning in concentration as he threads a wisp of Parker’s hair through a green bead, graciously pretends he didn’t see the exchange.

Hardison gets the hang of the beading fairly quickly, and Eliot shows him a few different techniques. He’s almost managed to convince himself that nothing is actually happening when Hardison says, conversationally, “You two are really bad at this.”

Eliot glowers his confusion. “At movie night? You started this, if you wanted to actually watch Alien then you shouldn’t have—”

Hardison’s smile is soft, but Eliot decides for his own safety to focus on the laughter at its edge. “No, at this.” And then he slides his hand onto Parker’s neck, caresses her cheek, and isn’t the slightest bit surprised when she gasps.

Parker whips around, and there’s hurt on her face but it dies in the glow of Hardison’s gentle, unteasing smile. Hardison pulls her up with the lightest of touches, and she goes, eyes fixed on his like salvation.

They kiss sweet and slow, and Eliot’s heart twists in his chest and he can’t breathe. He needs to leave now before he shatters in half, but if he moves then they will look at him, and he would rather never breathe again than meet their eyes right now.

Hardison breaks off the kiss, gazing at Parker with something just this side of wonder, and then he does look at Eliot. Eliot flinches. He opens his mouth to…say something, make some joke or hasty excuse and scramble out the door, but Hardison raises a hand to Eliot’s face, slides his long fingers to cup Eliot’s neck, and pulls him forward, as gently as he did Parker.

It’s a chaste kiss, no more than a soft press of lips, because Eliot is too stunned to respond and Hardison doesn’t push. It lasts a long time. A whole era of change happens in the span of that kiss, as everything Eliot thought he knew tears out of place and then settles, gingerly, into a new understanding.

Hardison pulls away, his hand still warm on the back of Eliot’s neck. His smile is pure sunshine. Eliot finds himself smiling back, helpless.

Hardison’s grin turns smug. “And that,” he says, looking between Eliot and Parker, “is how you do it. Y’all are disasters, honestly, I can’t believe two master criminals working together couldn’t manage a single real date—”

Eliot heaves a deep sigh and drags Hardison into a headlock, pinning his arms when he flails. Parker surges to her knees and starts tickling him mercilessly.

They don’t finish the movie.

[uchihasakurawrites]

Of T-Shirts and Monsoons

Rating: T for language

Summary: In which Sasuke proposes to a fuming Sakura in a cave in the middle of Rain. 

Word Count: 2,243

A/N: Hello everyone! It’s been about seven years since I last wrote for this fandom (or wrote creatively at all, really). This random idea popped into my head while I was watching old SasuSaku AMVs, and I just thought I’d go for it! I have a few ideas for longer SasuSaku fics, so I wanted to test out a few drabbles/oneshots to shake off some of the rust since it’s been a while. Let me know what you think! Also feel free to send prompts my way. This was done in about an hour, but I hope you enjoy~

Cross posted on Ao3 and Fanfiction.net

___________________________________

Sakura was fuming as she stomped into the cave, ignoring Sasuke’s wary gaze as she slung her pack to the ground with enough force to create fine cracks in the stone beneath it. She stripped out of her blood-and-rain soaked jonin vest and tossed it equally as haphazardly to the side, not sparing a glance to where it landed with a decided thwack. Sasuke rubbed the bridge of his nose and made quick work of using a small katon to set a small fire in the back of the cave. Typically, it wouldn’t be worth the risk of attracting unwanted attention, but he figured the benefits of not having to deal with an angry and cold Sakura were decidedly worth dispatching any rogues that were foolish enough to have followed them. Not that he and Sakura had left any of the nin in a state to pursue them, he thought with a smirk.

“Stupid Rain with it’s stupid freak monsoons and stupid rogue nin who ambush anything that fucking moves through their ‘territory.’ Sure, take out the fact that you’re bored in a time of peace out on civilians who can’t fight back.”

The clang of Sakura’s weapons pouch against the cave wall punctuated her impatience with the recent trend of rogue bands staking claim to smaller civilian towns and merchant paths. They’d managed to defend three different merchant caravans and liberated two villages from rogues in the past month and a half alone. She didn’t mind helping the civilians, of course, but why couldn’t these rogues get it through their skulls that this was peace time? She just wanted a little peace, dammit!

Sasuke crouched down next to his own pack to dig out a spare change of clothes. After just over a year and a half of traveling together, he was more than used to Sakura’s flinty temper and knew she would tire herself out soon. Best to keep out of it.

Sakura dropped to the ground to hunt for a clean shirt of her own. She pulled out shirt after shirt, noting with growing frustration that each was either covered in blood, lacerations, or sand. If she ever saw another grain of sand, it would be far too soon. A growl tore from the back of her throat.

“Stupid Suna with it’s stupid sand. Why the hell can’t some other village have poison experts so I don’t have to trudge through the damned desert just to collaborate on our new Inter-Village Poison Center? Who the fuck even came up with that idea?” Sasuke sent her a pointed look, knowing full well that she had fully supported Shizune’s initiative, which Sakura missed. “And why the hell can’t an epidemic break out in, I don’t know, the Land of Tea and not the middle of fucking Rain? At least then-”

Sakura nearly choked when she glanced up  just in time to see Sasuke pull off his rain-soaked shirt and wring it out. No matter how long they spent together or how intimate they became, Sakura’s mind never failed to short-circuit at the sight of Sasuke’s bare skin. It didn’t matter where or how much - one glimpse, and her mind checked out. Although he would never express it outright, Sakura surmised that Sasuke knew exactly what his body did to her and used it to his advantage - say, when he was trying to distract her from a particularly troublesome conversation or train of thought.

It worked more often then she cared to admit.

Her sharp eyes caught the way Sasuke shifted his weight away from his left side as he moved to pull on a fresh shirt - crisp black with the Uchiha fan emblazoned proudly on the back. After a brief moment admiring his figure before it was hidden by the fabric, Sakura frowned at the inflammation beginning to flare up around his ankle. She cleared her throat and motioned for him to come over, tirade momentarily forgotten. Kami knows Sasuke would never admit that he had lost his footing for a moment during their earlier confrontation, unused to fighting on branches that had been rotted through from near-constant rain, and actually ask her to heal him. He’d become much more willing to allow her to heal him after a particularly difficult fight, but it was rare for him to outright ask for her assistance. She usually offered before he needed to.

She met his withering look with a hard gaze of her own.

“You,” she jabbed a finger in his direction, and he raised a brow, “stop being a stubborn ass and sit.” She motioned to the spot next to her with a touch more force than necessary. Sasuke didn’t budge and continued to ruffle through his pack. Sakura’s eyes narrowed.

“Sasuke-kun, --”

With a sigh, Sasuke fixed Sakura with a stern look and tossed her one of his extra shirts before coming to sit next to her. Laying a hand on Sakura’s shoulder, he formed the tiger seal to send a small katon over her skin to dry off the remnants of water that clung to her skin and hair. His jaw tightened at the blue-purple tint her lips had begun to take in the chill. A smile worked its way onto Sakura’s face when she realized the telltale signs of concern in his posture as he hovered near her.

“Change, Sakura. Then heal.”

His gaze dropped pointedly below her chin, and Sakura’s cheeks heated as she followed his eyes and realized her state of undress. Over the course of her rant, she had stripped down to her chest bindings and fitted shorts. Although Sasuke had seen her in far less, embarrassment washed through her as she scrambled to unfold the shirt he had tossed to her.

Her demeanor shifted when she went to slip it on. Sasuke glanced over when he felt Sakura stiffen at his side, brow furrowing when he noted the pensive look on Sakura’s features. Her eyes, previously a battle-worn seafoam green, took on a deeper, more thoughtful jade. She snagged her lip between her teeth, and Sasuke glanced down to see her fingers gently tracing the outline of the Uchiha fan printed on the back of the shirt.

 Spine going rigid, Sasuke wracked his brain for the other instances Sakura had borrowed clothes from his pack - a shirt here, a poncho there. Her hands-on approach to fighting combined with the blood, bile, and poison that came with being a medic meant that her clothes tended to ruin more quickly than his. The sight of her rummaging through his pack for a spare change of clothes was a familiar one. What he hadn’t noticed, however, was that Sakura was always careful to select one of the few articles of clothing he carried that didn’t carry his clan’s symbol. He kept a few basics on hand just in case they needed to be incognito through a town that was still hostile towards the Leaf.

His mind jumped to the easiest explanation he could think of for her hesitation: she was ashamed. Not that he blamed her for wanting to distance herself from his clan’s marred legacy, but the very thought lit a fire in his veins that had him pulling away from her. Anger and bitterness combined with a pang of disappointment that he didn’t particularly want to address.

Sakura started, broken from her thoughts as she took note of Sasuke’s sudden change in demeanor. It was a testament to the time she had spent becoming attuned to the small giveaways of Sasuke’s emotions that she pieced two-and-two together. His flinty eyes shifted between the shirt in her hands and the cave wall as he refused to look at her.

With another quiet smile, Sakura carefully folded the shirt, laid it on top of her pack, and moved to stand next to Sasuke. She could feel some of the tension leave him when her shoulder brushed his, but his eyes remained stony.

“Sasuke-kun.” She waited for a moment before his gaze flickered down to hers, hoping that the softness in her own gaze would convey whatever she wasn’t able to in words. She placed a gentle hand on his bicep, hoping to ground him as she mulled over her words. Talking about the Uchiha Clan with Sasuke took a delicate touch, a touch she had learned after a short but explosive period of trial and error.

“Sasuke-kun, your clan’s history has nothing to do with why I won’t wear the Uchiha fan. Your legacy is a part of you, and I love you. All of you. Even the darkest parts that you don’t think love can reach. You know I’m damn persistent, and if I can wait this long to get you to accept that I love you, then I can wait as long as you need me to before you accept that that includes everything about you.”

She took a deep breath, averting her own eyes now that he had fixed her with an unreadable gaze of his own.

“Even if you won’t outright admit it, I know that your clan is precious to you. I’ve watched you carve the clan’s symbol into your kunai every time you replenish your stock. And I’m not an Uchiha, Sasuke-kun, so wearing the clan’s symbol - even casually like this, just feels like I’m not giving it the honor it deserves.”

Silence. Sakura was used to silence from Sasuke, and had learned how to interpret his different silences. There were the more distraught, brooding ones that required a bright, calming touch and the occasional pouty silence after she had smiled just a touch too openly at a flirty cashier; the explosive silences that she usually drew him into a spar during to release some energy and the frustrated, yet concerned silence when he thought she was too reckless in a battle.

This seemed to be one of his thoughtful silences - one that she didn’t feel she should interrupt. Noting with no small amount of satisfaction that most of the rigidity had melted away from his body, Sakura moved to turn back towards her pack.

“As for clothes, I’m sure I can put together something for tonight, so don’t worry about me. I’m pretty sure there’s a little merchant town not to far from here that we can stop by tomorrow to stock up on some new -”

Sakura swallowed her words as a cool hand enclosed her wrist and tugged her back. Her eyes widened when she found herself pressed to Sasuke’s chest with his arms wrapped tightly around her back. While Sakura was no stranger to small acts of affection from Sasuke - a forehead poke here and a sleepy  arm around her waist there - it was incredibly rare for him to initiate a hug. In fact, she was pretty sure she could count the number of times he had hugged her on one hand.

“Sa-Sasuke-kun?”

He huffed into her hair, something between a laugh or a sigh - she couldn’t quite tell. So she simply decided to remain quiet, tracing her fingertips along his back as she waited for him to voice his thoughts. She swore Sasuke Uchiha was going to be the death of her when he spoke again and she quite literally choked.

“Marry me.”

The words were so quiet that Sakura nearly convinced herself that they were a figment of her imagination. A statement, not a request. She pulled back slightly, wide eyes meeting Sasuke’s steady gaze.

“W-What?”

Sakura winced as soon as she asked the question, knowing Sasuke loathed repeating himself (though it was a well-kept secret that Sasuke didn’t mind repeating himself for her and her alone). But surely he couldn’t hold it against her given the situation. He simply sighed at her request, arching a brow that said he knew that she had clearly heard him yet repeated himself anyways.

“Marry me and wear the damn shirt, Sakura.”

When she continued to stand in front of him with nothing more than a shocked stare, Sasuke huffed again and half-rolled his eyes in a rare display of amusement. Tonight seemed to be a night for rare occasions, it seemed.

Sidestepping Sakura’s frozen form, he retrieved his spare shirt from its place on Sakura’s pack, unfolded it, and gently worked it over her head. A warm glow replaced the earlier fire in his veins as Sakura came to and allowed her arms to be guided into the shirt’s sleeves.

Sasuke spent a minute admiring the fan on her back, pride burning in his chest at the thought of Sakura as the Uchiha matriarch. A small part of him idly wondered if his mother would be pleased to see her position passed on to Sakura. He liked to think she would.

Sakura turned towards him, feeling a tug in her chest at the vulnerability in Sasuke’s expression. She wasn’t sure what kind of proposal she had expected from Sasuke - hell, she hadn’t even been certain she should expect one at all. At least, not for a while. She certainly hadn’t imagined one of the happiest moments of her life to come in the middle of a freezing cave in Rain after treating a minor epidemic, getting ambushed by a plucky squad of overambitious rogue nin, and nearly drowning in a monsoon.

So yes, she hadn’t expected a proposal to come in this type of situation, but she had known her answer to this question for nearly a decade.

“Yes.”

[presumenothing]

the shapings we’ve forgotten

what can i say. i finished @ink-splotch’s interactive fiction game “stay?” and my brain just wouldn’t shut up afterwards because the entire narrative hits so many tropes that i am weak for, so here’s a little piece in thanks for an amazing game!! with extra love for jo and myka, who are designated my platonic-married and bff characters respectively.

(spoilers for the game, obvs, so don’t look if you haven’t finished it)

i.

Work at the magic shop involves less counting than the Archives did, but there are still some figures you know off the top of your head: 

The number of times you woke up before arriving at this point.

The number of empty slots on the relics’ shelves, a mysterious disappearance that still vexes dear old Higgins whenever it’s brought up.

The number of curls fading grey on Jo’s head, of causes Suzette takes up fighting for, of colours flickering reflected in Myka’s eyes, of times you glimpse Esteban ducking into an art supplies store or Gemma’s grin as she flies past on horseback. 

(The first two stay static, but the last ticks ever upward and upward again and you are breathless with the joy of it.)

.

ii.

You chose history, in this life – your final life, technically, but that doesn’t really feel like the right word for it because there is nothing of finality in these days you worked so hard to wake up in.

You’re not sure there is an appropriate word for it in Elaian, actually. Fiore might have had one, but yours is a civilisation steeped in forgetting, even now. Mr. Tate had been right about that. 

Everything feels final when you have no history to look back on.

But you also recall Myka calling Elaia the city of history, of remembering, and perhaps all these things aren’t completely unconnected. It’s one of the things you’ve mused over during afternoon chats with her once, whether the loss of your sister city sent your own teetering loose in some fundamental way, even though her surprise when you quoted those memory-worn words suggests that they aren’t ones she’s said to you in this lifetime.

(Sorting out the threads of your lives is a problem, sometimes. Jo helps where they can, is endlessly patient in helping you unwind people and place, but you still do slip up, especially with these faces you have known in every shade from university to death to a war that never happened.

You’ll tell the others someday, when you’ve figured out how to, but if Jo is your pillar then Myka is your wildcard; you would not put it past her to have figured it out before then.)

.

iii.

“Have you ever regretted it?” Jo asks, with the light frown of concentration they always have when making sure to get the tea just right. “Staying here, in this life.”

The words shake you out of a post-workout stupor; just because you didn’t major in combat this life doesn’t mean you’ll let yourself fully slack off on it. “What? Jo – ”

They wave it off with clear eyes. “I don’t mean it that way. But like you said – you changed something in every life you went through, didn’t you? So what if you hadn’t stayed?”

You bite your lip, curl your hands around the cup of tea Jo hands you, and think. 

Could you ever regret staying in this life? No, and you know it, not with the war averted and the land healed and the warmth of Jo’s hands in yours blossoming with whatever this is between you (another thing Elaian doesn’t have a word for).

But is there anything else you would’ve changed?

Yes, of course: you wish that Fiore had never needed to be sunk, and one day after you tell Myka you will also ask if she can look into what exactly that stone did, because sometimes you still lie awake at night wondering if all those worlds continued existing even after you woke up, if all is right in just this world but none of the others.

But none of that has ever been within your ability to change, and you realise with a laugh that the other thing you do want most isn’t within reach, either – to make it so that this wouldn’t have happened to that Jo, your other Jo from that very first lifetime, fierce and exhausted and so earnest. 

Time for me to stay, they’d said, but it hadn’t been regret in their eyes and it’s not regret in yours now either. 

“I’m done changing things in worlds that won’t last,” you say, and mean ask me, just ask me to stay and I will.

And Jo must read your mind, or maybe just read you, because their smile isn’t wide but it crinkles the corners of their eyes nonetheless. “Well, then. How do you feel about getting a cat?”

.

.

.

now also on ao3 because i made a fandom tag for it

(edit to add: i have also ficced for leagues and legends, for those who’ve read the trilogy!)

[vydante]

Restart | 12

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Avengers x Male! Reader (romantically: multiple)

A/N: Missed y'all. I don't think I'm officially off of my hiatus, but I somehow managed to pull a chapter out of my ass after months of radio silence. I really did back myself into a corner with the last chapter, but hey, this is my story and I get to pace it however I want.

Sorry if things are worded weirdly, I'm writing them but they're going through one ear and out the other when it comes to comprehending what I actually wrote. No one will remember what happened, but that's okay. God, I really need a beta-reader... Anyways. Love y'all. XOXO.

Also, sorry if any of the formattings seems off. HTML doesn't really translate well over certain sites. (Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, and AO3 are now my main places for posting my works. Anywhere else, that's not me nor was it permitted by me.)

If you want a recap: You're in the process of jumpstarting Project Renaissance after realizing that you've just been doing basically nothing ever since you woke up in your old body. You've also taken to making video logs to report down your progress, and in the last chapter (that was in the POV of multiple video logs), it ended on a cliffhanger with Barnes being discovered and moved to a safe house.

This chapter takes place roughly after the last one. 

If you're currently binge reading this story, this recap is only because last chapter was updated... Roughly more than 7 months before this chapter. So. Yeah. :D

Oh, and let's pretend that either A. Barnes doesn't have a tracking chip in his arm OR B. he did, but you got it out during the whole rescue-escapade. That's my bad, I straight up forgot about that possibility until I was like, close to 4000 words deep into this chapter. Now we're at roughly 8k+... Hehe. Whoops.

_______

You're not gonna call Barnes, Bucky.

There's a personal touch to the nickname that bothers you. How awful it sounds in your ears, to call the former husk of a man a name he no longer recognizes. There's history to that name, both on writing and in memory, though only in sparsity. Plus, it'll be difficult for you to associate Bucky to Barnes. A man with an identity to a man without.

So after the whole debacle of getting him out of the mini-Hulk playbox and into decent dry clothing, when he asks what his name is, you quietly debated to yourself what to tell him.

"... Your name is James Buchanan Barnes," you'd eventually reply.

He doesn't comment on the resignation in your tone, but you're confident that he certainly noticed it- surely, the ticks of being the Winter Soldier was still there, no matter how disoriented he must be. But whether courtesy was something that he hadn't forgotten whilst his brain was refried over and over like leftover KFC wings or he was simply too exhausted to ask, you didn't care.

Granted, for a man who should have a lot of questions on his mind, he's definitely proven himself to be a man of very few words.

An hour goes by, and in the midst of you trying your best to build a solid standing between the two of you, he's said so few words that you could probably count all of them on both of your hands.

If it weren't for the nods of affirmation, you'd think that his averted gaze from you would have meant that he wasn't paying attention at all, but honestly, you knew better than to judge him for that if he actually wasn't actually listening in the first place.

Hell, he could tear up the walls to the high heavens and you still wouldn't hold him against it, so you were just thankful that he was so docile, for someone who could snap your neck if he felt so inclined.

Though, as it turns out confusion and disorientation wasn't the actual reason why he was being so docile, you belatedly realize as you're stood in front of a blank-faced Barnes. You're in the middle of trying to give him a basic tour around the house when he quietly interrupted your monologuing.

"Mission parameters," you echoed his words, though mainly to yourself. He nods, and for once meets your eyes. There's neither confidence nor surrender in his eyes, and that makes your stomach churn. Chances are, he probably saw nothing wrong with asking such a thing.

"You want me to give you- mission parameters. Like- like your handlers would?" You laughed incredulously, but the humor was replaced with subdued hysterical horror.

You were aware of what they were. Aware of the types of hunts his Handlers- bastards- would sick him out on. Aware of what he did without a second thought. You saw those files, if only briefly. That was more than enough for you to see the type of expectations that came alongside "mission parameters".

He nods as if you were stating the obvious.

God.

You opened and closed your mouth, and for a split second, once you got past the horror of being asked to tell him what to do, a subtle realization crawled up your spine. In the midst of your impromptu introduction and briefing, you never really made a distinction as to what role you were supposed to play in all of this.

So it shouldn't be a surprise for Barnes to assume that you're his new- what? Handler? Caretaker? After all, as far as you can assume, that's probably all he knows; all he was conditioned to grow accustomed to, to expect his every move to be dictated by some outsider with no care to the wants or needs that Barnes has.

(Hell, if you were to make a reach right now, maybe Barnes thinks he doesn't have wants or needs. That he shouldn't.)

(In the background, a part of you simmer in silence.)

With your jaw clenched, you make an effort to make your voice as even as can be when you ask him, "You don't need mission parameters, Barnes. You're your own free man. You can- can make decisions on your own. You don't need me to tell you what you need to do."

Pray as you might, there's something about realizing that you said the wrong thing right after saying said words that make you wonder what you did to anger the higher powers that be to put yourself in the situation you're in right now.

Barnes doesn't say anything, but his eyes says it all. Confusion. Realization. Grief. Detachment. His metal hand clenches, and you're man enough to admit that it made your heart stutter in fear.

"I...", he mutters, "... don't understand."

You swallowed.

This...

This is gonna be tough.

_______

It's difficult to explain what self-autonomy and freedom meant to a man who is only capable of remembering being chained and held on a leash like a rabid dog.

Thankfully, it was your winter break, so you had a manageable excuse for being away from "home" for a few days, but you only had so long to try and establish to Barnes that you're not going to be able to be there with him as often as you are now (and even then, the time frame was too small to even make any sense of attachment).

You knew for sure you couldn't always be there for Barnes, so one thing was certain: he had to meet DAHLIA. And thankfully, since the whole safe house was yours, not even your father knew that DAHLIA, your own A.I., would be uploaded into the houses' built-in hardware.

(While the hardware was built with the intention of housing J.A.R.V.I.S. there as a standard, he ended up "moving out" the moment that the house became yours. Something about "not intruding on a teenager's privacy", but you're more than thankful for Tony's afterthought, even if you did end up taking slight advantage of his consideration.)

And surprisingly enough, Barnes wasn't really bothered by the concept of DAHLIA as much as you had initially expected. Of course, he didn't really talk to her, but it wasn't like he talked much in the first place.

(On a side note, it looks like DAHLIA seems to like the house, all things considered... So there's that.)

(The original DAHLIA was never installed here, instead she ended up "living" in a retirement house of sorts in a wooded area of New York. She never said anything about the house, so it's... Kind of endearing, to see that she actually might prefer this house instead. And mildly insulting, considering you personally decorated the other house.)

You ended up spending nearly the whole night trying to establish even the most basic of guidelines: use the bathroom whenever he needed to (you initially said phrased it as "wanted", but he promptly cut you off saying "The Asset does not have wants," which, rude, but also sad); whatever is in the kitchen is available for him to eat whenever, where ever; basic hygiene; and the most important one- if he had any questions, his first source would be you. And on the off-chance that you're not available, DAHLIA is always online and ready to help.

He gave a tentative nod, but you're somehow not confident that he might have interpreted it wrong. You're hoping he doesn't do anything to prove you right.

"Alright. So. Any questions?"

He stares at you for a beat too long before shaking his head.

He's still giving non-verbal answers for the most part, but it's better than nothing. You internally sighed and motioned him to follow you deeper into the safe house.

Considering that it was already pretty late by the time you managed to beat those guidelines into his head (maybe that should be worded better, but you never claimed to be a lyricist; it is what it is), he might be just as tired as you are from how long the day has been.

(Granted, this dude has been "asleep" for who knows how long, but it's the thought that counts.)

"You know where I'm taking you to?" you asked, not really expecting an answer from him.

"No," he responds from behind you. Color you surprised.

You turned into the hallway and stepped up to an unassuming door. You opened it to reveal an equally unassuming bedroom. Muted colors, modern design; it reeked Pepper's doing, knowing that Tony isn't as decoratively-inclined as she is.

Hah, bet she didn't expect that instead of housing you or your dad, it'll go to a super-solder that wasn't Steve instead.

(Not that Steve would ever have a reason to step foot in here, but in this line of work, you'd be stupid to be 100% sure about something.)

You motioned him to come into the room and tilted your head to the bed.

"This is your bedroom, pretty much where you'll be sleeping. There's a bathroom right over there," you motioned to the door adjacent to the entrance door, "and I'll be in the room right next to yours."

Barnes takes a second to process it all, and with a quick scan of the room with calculating eyes, he nods. You absentmindedly scratched the back of your neck.

"I mean, there's plenty of rooms here so if you don't like this one, just let me know and we'll probably move you to another room-" you rambled, secretly trying to get a move on so you'd finally get some shut-eye.

(What? You're not perfect, sleep is heavily slept on in this day and age. Hah.)

(God, you're definitely going to hell.)

"-and you know how to use a toilet, right?"

The raised eyebrow pointed at you definitely proves that that was a pretty stupid question, but hey, you can't take any chances. You shrugged, a tired smirk threatening to form on your lips.

"Well then. Can I leave it to you to settle down for the night, or...?" you left it open-ended.

He didn't say anything in response, only stared at the bed in front of him. There was a pregnant pause, but he nodded at you. There was a strange tilt to his eyes, but you didn't bother to think further into it as you were just thankful that you could finally rest.

"Well then, good night Barnes. I'll come by tomorrow morning and we'll continue to, er," you thought about it, "work, on your situation."

You made a swift exit out of his room and immediately into "your" room, which was literally right next to his. You immediately discarded your clothes and with a brisk shower and teeth brushing, you promptly dropped straight onto the bed with an audible grunt, wet hair soaking straight into the pillow.

Pulling the plush duvet to cover your body, you reached for your phone to check for any messages you might have gotten.

(3 from Tony; he asked where you were. You told him that you're staying at a safe house and that you needed a small break. It wasn't wrong, but definitely an omission of truth. A few days would be fine, right?)

(2 from Rhodey; it's a picture of a Goodwill's, and there's a silhouette in a nearby window of some guy. "This you?" he asks. "No ❤️," you sent back.)

(63 is from the group chat that the Avengers are in- ah, make that 64 and counting. It's just a bunch of nonsense from what you can gather, but you briefly scrolled through it anyways.)

Turning your phone off, you smushed your face into the pillow and sighed, a terrible knot forming at the pit of your stomach. With an open ear, you tried to hear any noise that could come from Barnes' room, but considering that the walls were reinforced and he was already quiet as it is, all you could hear was the AC running in the background.

"DAHLIA," you huffed, eyes drooping, "keep an eye on him, wake me up if anything happens."

"Got it," her voice echoes from the ceiling speakers.

You quietly tucked yourself in bed. As the exhaustion finally started settling in your body, the last thought that lingered in your head was "Man, I hope nothing bad happens tomorrow," before you drifted right off to dreamless slumber.

_______

The next day was, to say the least, a little disconcerting, but a bigger improvement to be sure.

Right after waking up, you begrudgingly put on some daytime appropriate clothes and stepped out into the hallway. You knocked on the door that was right next to yours, and gingerly opened it when you didn't hear much of a response.

"Good morning," you tentatively greeted. Barnes was sitting at the foot of the bed when you knocked on his door. He mumbled back a greeting and stands up to your eye level.

His clothes are still the same from last night, and judging by the clean state of his bed, he either woke up earlier than you expected or he was sat like that the whole night.

You're not too keen on finding out which was the case, but you had to.

"Sleep well?"

You stepped out of the doorway and motioned him to follow you. Briefly glancing down at your phone to see just a few messages waiting for you, you opted to ignore them for now.

"I slept."

He quietly stated from behind you. He avoided saying if he slept well or not, but at least the damn Terminator slept. You mentally deflated a little; the bar was set so low for him, you're not too sure who it's more insulting to- you or him.

(Of course, it's to him, that shouldn't be a question. Your feelings don't matter.)

"We're gonna have to wing this a little, but uh, here's the general gist of what's gonna happen."

Stepping into the kitchen, you're taken aback to last night as he tentatively stands across from you from the kitchen island. Really, you'd opt to go to the living room, but you both radiate too much nervous energy to really sit.

You opened the refrigerator and sighed when all that greeted you was water and non-perishables. Right. You just got here, it's not like there's gonna be freshly stocked food in here 24/7.

"DAHLIA, order some fresh food and get it delivered today. Charge it on my debit," you mumbled quietly.

DAHLIA doesn't say anything, but the refrigerator lights flicker a familiar green hue that keys you in that she heard you. You raised an impressed eyebrow; what an unnecessary feature for a refrigerator to have. You closed the door and turned around to face Barnes.

"I'm here to serve as, say, a guide for," you gestured to him, "your... rehabilitation, of sorts."

"For now, I can't really offer any... Professional help, on a technical level. I'm not- that's not my area of expertise. I'm an engineer at heart," actually, you really liked other things more than being an engineer, but your fate of becoming the CEO of SI was sealed the moment you decided to live with your dad, "so we're going to have to make a compromise on that."

You shook your head.

"If you were anyone else, I'd point you to a shrink," Barnes gives you a confused stare.

"Therapist," you clarified. He nods.

"But quite frankly," Zemo's face flashes in your memory, "I don't trust anyone to properly... Well, I don't trust anyone when it comes to the mental health of you, and the Avengers too, of course."

Pausing mid-rant, you raised an eyebrow at him.

"You... do know who the Avengers are, right?"

He nods and begins to rattle off a pre-scripted monologue. His eyes are blank as he started speaking.

"A group of top priority, compromised of highly skilled individuals, enhanced or otherwise specified. Threat priority ranges from 5 to 9. As of now, 6 active-duty members and 1 reserve member. The Asset is to not engage under any circumstance and reveal-"

"Alright alright, I get it- that's," you're a little offended that you're considered a "reserve member", but that's not technically wrong, "That's a lot to unpack there, but yeah. You- whew, you definitely know who the- we are."

(You've gotten into the habit of distancing yourself from the Avengers the moment that you had become CEO. You're still working on that, but the word "we" still feels wrong on your tongue.)

There's a little more life that came back to Barnes' eyes after you had snapped him out of it, and it's a bit surreal knowing that Barnes just kinda... runs on autopilot when prompted. The image of Barnes being strapped down in a chair and forced to learn and recite those kinds of things by heart is both horrifying and a little funny.

(Do you think they had a set curriculum he had to learn by?)

"So yeah. The Avengers gotta be careful when lookin' for shrinks, and so do you. There's just too many factors that go into gettin' a personal therapist. So for now," you shrugged, "you're stuck with me."

"What are they?"

"Hm?"

"The factors."

You shrugged.

"Well, for starters, you're- you were, HYDRA's prisoner," the muscle around his jaw visibly clenches when you mentioned HYDRA, but you powered through, "so they'll definitely be interested in getting their fight dog back. They're good at blending in and good at getting their musty little fingers into every nook and cranny. I wouldn't put it past them to have one of their agents go undercover as a therapist for hire. So that's one factor: trying to discern who is and isn't HYDRA."

You raised a finger.

"Then there's the fact that because you're such a... shall we say, top priority, er, asset," that word runs bitter on your tongue, "even if your shrink isn't HYDRA, they'll definitely be targeted by HYDRA if it ever came to light that they have a direct link to you. So there's reason number two: loose ends, and the risks that come with it."

You raised another finger. By now, Barnes has a hard but contemplative curl to his lips.

"And then not to mention how unique your case it. Barnes, you've been a POW for decades. Your brain- no offense buddy, but from what I can tell, it's been fried to hell and back. I don't even have to do any fancy brain scans to know. And that's not even including all the other stuff they probably did to you, only God knows."

You shook your head.

"There's too much at risk for you to get proper therapy right now. But. It's not impossible."

You think back to Shuri, and how she and the other Wakandan scientists were successful in both removing the trigger words and rehabilitating Barnes.

Well, you're not sure about the last part, since you never interacted with the Barnes of your time, but you'd assume that they did help with his subsequent mental health. You wouldn't really put it past them- T'Challa was a nice guy, from your limited interactions with him way into the future, and Shuri was buzzing with ideas and energy. If T'Challa's sympathy for Barnes wasn't enough, then Shuri's crave to help and experiment would supplement the balance plenty. Vice versa, too.

So yeah, future-Barnes' mental health was most likely addressed during his time in Wakanda. And it was almost guaranteed to have been a success.

So you're still gonna hold a torch for the possibility that Barnes' can come out of this as a relatively well-adjusted guy.

Not to mention B.A.R.F. As far as you know, the R&D team assigned to that was still progressing smoothly, but the only downside to that was that it wasn't going to be until a few more years before it's "perfected".

You were never really involved in any way with B.A.R.F. since you were both prepping for SI and finishing college. Your dad was definitely more involved in it than you were, but it's not like you could ask him to pull a few year's worths of experimentation and knowledge out of his ass and exponentially boost the rate of B.A.R.F.'s progress, so.

Helen Cho suddenly sprang to mind, but you quickly threw away that thought. Your- well, Barnes'- issue was neurological, Cho was all about cell regeneration and is a geneticist. So unless somehow the issue crosses over with Cho's line of work, she wasn't a possibility either. There was also Strange, but as far as you've heard the man was pretty... abrasive, even as a wizard. Hard to get a hold of, and very... Hard-headed.

Well, all of that was second hand since it came from Tony, but still. Maybe you could pull Tony in for some clout, but that'll just make him suspicious. God, maybe you shouldn't have kept the whole "I'm actually from the future" spiel a secret, otherwise you wouldn't have to be doing all this crap alone.

Oh well. In for a penny, out for a pound.

You sighed, already feeling the dull thump against your skull starting to form.

"So what now?" Barnes asks. He's less tentative than he was last night, but still soft-spoken when he talks.

"Well, you're stuck with me, bud. I'll do my best to get you prepped for the actual rehabilitation, but honestly, that might take a little longer than you'd expect. So, we'll just- well."

You eyed the outfit he was donning, which was literally your clothes- so it was a few sizes too small for him. He doesn't really seem bothered by it, and if it weren't for the fact that he's sort of proved himself to be neglectful of voicing his own preferences, you'd be a little more inclined to appreciate the view of one very, very beefy super-soldier.

But alas.

Life never really works in your favor, so.

"We'll need to get a few essential things out of the way. Food is already on its way, I assume you aren't allergic to anything?"

He pauses, and there goes that familiar glaze forming over his eyes. You sigh, knowing that he was probably searching through his mental "data-bases" for any allergies, but thankfully it's not long as he blinks back into attention.

"None."

"Yeah, I could'a figured, what with your super-soldier serum."

(You're pretty sure that also makes him immune to cancer, but maybe that's just you glorifying it.)

"So: the food situation is cleared. Now, we need to get you some new clothes because, uh, those don't look very comfortable."

"Comfort does not matter. I am adequately dressed."

You snorted. Maybe it's better that you don't tell Barnes that he's wearing a Sharknado tee and some sweats that have "Eat this!" printed on his behind.

(And maybe it's better that you didn't remember that yes, these are indeed still your clothes.)

"Comfort does matter, my guy. DAHLIA, take some quick measurements."

The kitchen light dims and brightens, shining lime green into the kitchen. It lingers and turns back into that white-blue that sometimes makes your eyes burn when you've been up for too late into the night.

"Seargent Barnes' measurements are now on file. You two want to see the available catalog?"

Right where the kitchen island was, a panel opens up to reveal a hologram of a bunch of articles of clothing, all of which has been adjusted to Barnes' size- or an approximate at least, since there's some that's labeled X or XL.

"Barnes? You got anything you want to do right now or...?"

You gestured to the hologram in front of you.

His face contorts a little, not too noticeable at a quick glance. He doesn't look uncomfortable per se, but judging by the downwards curl of his lips, he's definitely not excited to see the hologram.

You flicked your wrist and it disappeared just as quick as it appeared. Strangely enough, his expression doesn't loosen up as his eyes flicker upwards to yours.

"Hey, that's okay. If it's the hologram, that's no biggie, we'll just move over to the, uh, TV in the next room over. C'mon."

You jerked your head and motioned him to follow you. His face laxes and he walks behind you without a word.

_______

You two ended up getting a lot done all things considered.

Barnes seemed pretty bothered by how many clothing choices there are, but when you asked if he wanted you to just curate a list for him, he easily relented. He was hovering over you the whole time, but you weren't too bothered by it as you were too busy browsing for him.

You went from site to site searching for clothes that screamed "The Winter Soldier", but all that was coming up was clothes in fifty shades of black and with no pizzaz. You did pass by a few Avengers-related merch (especially yours), but he said nothing when you added two or three into your cart, so he probably doesn't care. You did show him a lot of clothes that you thought would fit him, and he nodded to pretty much all of them.

By the time you were done looking for clothes, the doorbell had rung.

("That was quick," you reminisced. DAHLIA was quick to respond.

"It came from a nearby Walmart."

"Huh.")

Barnes' head jerked as his eyes were trained on the entrance door. You patted his arm, and his eyes glance at you.

"Relax, it's just the food. DAHLIA ordered some groceries earlier."

You stood up to go answer the door, and Barnes followed suit. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he doesn't really seem like he's gonna back down anytime soon.

"You know... You can follow behind, but you're gonna have to be in the shadows or something 'cuz, you know... Just- if someone's still at the door, don't let them see you okay?"

He nods, almost mechanically so, and you turned around and walked to the entrance door.

Opening the door, you were greeted with a few big boxes. You raised an eyebrow and glanced out through the door; there are no cars nearby, and DAHLIA whispers in your ear that the clearing's safe- not a single life signature anywhere.

"Barnes, the coast's clear," you called out, already reaching down to grab one of the boxes. You grunt, adjusting your grip before you lifted and turned around.

Barnes, having already popped out of whatever dark corner he was in, is already a few feet behind you.

"Hey, you don't mind helping me bring in those boxes, will you?"

You were already walking past him, but you barely caught the briefest flash of furrowed eyebrows before you saw him walk over to the door. You mentally shrugged, but placed the box in the kitchen and went back over to the door to get the other one.

By the time you were done setting down the box, Barnes had already closed the door and was standing under the arch connecting the kitchen to the main hallway.

You motioned him over, and he complied.

"What is inside?"

You're almost proud that you didn't jump. He doesn't talk much, but when he does it always startles you.

"Groceries, but I don't know what specifically. DAHLIA chose all of it. And by the looks of it, she chose a lot. So. You're gonna help me unpack and we'll probably- well, I'll probably make some food. You can help if you want."

Your back was turned to him, and you started unloading the boxes and their contents. Barnes doesn't move for a hot moment, but he squats down next to you and starts unwrapping the smaller boxes that were inside it.

"You don't mind if I put on some music, right?"

You glanced at him.

"I... don't. Mind," he mumbles, tentatively glancing back at you. You gave him a brief thumbs up and turned your attention back to

"DAHLIA, play something chill. Low volume."

_______

Pretty much, the whole day consisted of unpacking all of the groceries that had been delivered. You ended up pausing, having gotten tired of being awake without food in your stomach, and made some food for the two of you.

You tried conversing with him, trying to get him to at least feel more comfortable, and it... kinda worked. There are a few touchy subjects that he doesn't really seem to like talking about (he doesn't really vocalize his discomfort, but his flinches, no matter how minute they were, spoke louder than words). HYDRA, obviously. Anything revolving the Avengers put him off as well, among other things.

Really, most of the eating consisted of small talk and eating noises, but at least some of the tension in his shoulders had lessened by the time that you two needed to get back to unpacking. Hell, by the time that was done, Barnes' clothes had arrived.

(Oh, the benefits of being insanely rich. Say it with me kids: Thank you, Tony!)

You're usually a little apprehensive about buying clothes online, but color you surprised when not only did all of them fit; Barnes didn't have a single problem with any of them.

"You like 'em?"

You whistled when Barnes came out of his bathroom, now back in your clothes that you had given him originally. He tried all of them on, and you ended up buying him so many clothes that a lot of time had passed by the time he was done. You just sat on his bed, slowly collecting all of the clothes and ripping off the tags, damned if he didn't like one of them; you'll just take it instead.

"They're adequate," he nodded. In his hand were the folded clothes (A camo tee and dark sweatpants), and he set them onto his bed with the other folded clothes.

"Did any of 'em uncomfortable? Too tight, any of the fabric feels wrong...?"

You left the question open-ended as you helped him dump it into a laundry bin. He doesn't respond right away as if he didn't hear you. His eyes flicker over to yours.

"... No. They- I..." the muscle under his eye spasms, "I liked them..."

You grinned, "Glad to hear that, guess we got lucky that none of these was a dud, huh?"

The ghost of a smile that was on his lips appeared briefly, but it was gone just as fast as it had appeared.

Really, that had basically been the peak of the day before things had started to mellow out a little bit. But that was okay, you took whatever it was that Barnes gave, and if it was just the smallest smile you've ever seen on a man, then so be it.

Afterward, the day somehow managed to blend together and pass along like an exhale. Not much happened, since you couldn't really- well, offer anything that could scientifically and medically help him. So you opted to just- try to get him up to date as much as possible.

Honestly, by the time that you had gotten through the first three decades (starting when he was born), it was already pretty late into the night.

(He had a lot of questions, and you really didn't blame him. Hell, most of the more personal information really came from DAHLIA, because as much as you sympathized with the man, you really didn't care to learn about his whole entire biography.

But, at least you answered most of the history related questions. If you had to go through a few history college classes back when you were in college, then you'll be damned if you didn't at least make an effort to learn and internalize them.)

Barnes didn't really show any signs of exhaustion if the casual leg bouncing wasn't enough, but you sure were pooped.

(What? Unlike your dad (and most of the Avengers) you actually had a normal internal clock. For the most part, anyway.)

"Well, as much as I liked talking about prehistoric times," you sounded sarcastic, but you actually did like it, "I gotta sleep, I don't run on super-soldier energy like you do bub."

You stood up, stretched, and saw that Barnes was now standing up as well.

"Should I...?"

Raising an eyebrow, you huffed in good nature, "Go to sleep? Yeah, probably. We're not done with the History101 crash course, and we'll probably be talking about other things tomorrow as well," especially about the fact that you're not gonna be at the safe house often soon, "so we both need the energy for that. So, go clean up and get some Z's, yeah?"

"Oh."

He looked a little lost but followed you back into your shared hallway. Stopping in your doorway, you turned your head to glance at Barnes.

"Good night, Barnes," you nodded, not waiting for a response as you headed into your room. It was quiet and almost inaudible, but you still heard it with your ears before you had closed the door shut.

"... Good night."

You stood in your room, a sudden wave of both exhaustion and dread flooding your body. You shook it off though; it was just the nervous jitters hitting you at an inopportune time.

But really, you trusted your guts almost as much as you trusted Tony.

So as you brushed your teeth and did your business in the bathroom, you tried to quell the anxiety that was building up in your chest.

"DAHLIA, keep an eye on him."

"Gotcha, doll."

You sighed, dropped onto your bed, and hoped that whatever it was that might happen, you'd be prepared for it.

_______

And lo and behold, it didn't even have to be the next morning before shit all hit the fan when DAHLIA wakes you up in the middle of the night (3 A.M., to be specific).

"-oll, wake up! Barnes is having a panic attack!"

It takes half a second to process the fear in DAHLIA's voice. It takes another to process her words.

Fuck.

Scrambling immediately out the bed, you thanked whatever higher being there is that you were sleeping with at least some sweatpants on as you booked it straight to your door and right through Barnes'.

(Maybe you should have joined the football team, because that would have been one wicked tackle. Ha, yeah right, you know nothing about football.)

The lights were on, most likely DAHLIA's doing, and his bedsheets were clearly mussed up. He's nowhere to be seen, so your eyes jump to the joined bathroom door, and lo and behold, there was light bleeding through the cracks.

You quickly approached the door and opened it, throwing away the worry that he might have been absolutely naked.

The good news was that he wasn't nude.

The bad news was that he was hunched over on the ground, right in front of the bathroom counter, and he's gripping his head so tightly you would have thought his skull would have caved in.

Terror shoots down your spine like a lightning bolt, and you immediately rushed to the curled over Barnes, adrenaline rushing through you as a million thoughts ran through your head.

"Barnes!"

He doesn't appear to hear you, groaning and panting as he further curled in on himself. His muscles spasm, hard, and you're at a loss at what to do. He's sickly pale, and the sheen on his skin makes you want to vomit. His panting is shallow, and if you weren't sure if the glint that shone in your eyes was the reflection off of the marble floors or a puddle of saliva coming from Barnes.

You're not sure if touching him right now is a good thing, but you'll be damned if he wasn't your responsibility now. You reach out to him, wrapping one arm around his hunched back and the other trying to pry at his wrists.

(Would you have touched him, if you didn't have the reassurance that DAHLIA has your back?)

(Shut up.)

Maybe you were tensing up for him to go all "Winter Soldier" mode on you, but he's the one that tenses, even more, when you touched him. Thankfully, he doesn't resist your pull as his arm is limp the moment you tried to pull it back, but it doesn't change the fact that he's shaking, badly, and your mind is frozen in limbo.

"DAHLIA, what-"

You're at a loss for words, but DAHLIA, sweet DAHLIA already knows what you were about to ask.

"Sergeant Barnes was displaying elevated levels of anxiety, however, it did not seem to warrant any mentions. I thought-"

She cuts herself off, almost as if she was worried that she had made a wrong call. You swallowed, knowing that despite being a baby A.I., she's never done wrong by you- both in the future and now.

"You thought what?"

You try to rub Barnes' back as if he was a dog that had needed soothing. He groans, but you're not sure if you should interpret that as a hurt groan or a relieved one. You paused and moved your hand away, hovering it just inches away from his back, and his breath hitches.

Your hand dropped onto his back once again, and you could feel the muscles on his muscles spasm a little; his whimpers aren't as loud and painful (though, they're still more than worrying).

So, on the very small bright side, back rubs don't seem to be hurting him either. It's a small win, but a win for sure.

"You- my visuals were clear in the conclusion that you saw it. His discomfort. Your body language and expression acknowledged it but you refrained from addressing it. I- acted under the assumption that it was all under control..."

Something in your mind pauses for a pregnant second before your eyes widened.

"What?"

DAHLIA doesn't even get the chance to reply as Barnes jerks his hands away from yours and pulls at his scalp again. You lurched forward.

"Hey! No!"

You bit back a growl as you grabbed his wrists once again. You yank them back down to his sides as his body jolts, a sob ripping through him. You placed a hand on his chest and tried to boost him back up so he'll have his back against the bathtub that's behind him.

He offers little to no resistance as his back makes contact with the bathtub, but he's slumped into himself. He pulls his knees forward and curls his head into them. For a super-soldier, it's almost cute how hard he's trying to take up as little space as possible if it weren't for the fact that your heart was absolutely breaking at the sight of him.

"Oh, Barnes..."

In shuddered breaths, he mumbles something incoherent.

"...-an't, I- I- I-.... -can't..."

He shakes his head, jolting as if someone had shocked him. You rubbed his arm, glancing down at what you can now confirm to be a puddle of saliva, and then over to the trash can right next to the toilet. You're not too sure if you should get it just in case he decides to vomit, but you're ready to lunge for it the moment Barnes shows any signs of gagging.

"DAHLIA," you spoke at a lower volume, "what- when was he, um, uncomfortable."

"Two nights ago, roughly 22:00, when you told Sargeant Barnes that he was his own free man. Yesterday morning, 08:00, when you asked if he wanted to do anything prior to browsing the available clothing catalog. Right after, he was also discomforted by the catalog, before you offered to buy clothes for him. At-"

"That's- that's enough," you breathlessly muttered. DAHLIA doesn't say anything else, but the air has suddenly become heavier than you remembered.

Your head was almost dizzy with not only how many instances Barnes had been anxious in such a short time, but also at how you remembered each and every instance with startling clarity.

Barnes was anxious at the idea of freedom, but you put it off and opted to just give him a nickel tour of the house.

Barnes was anxious when you asked if he wanted to do anything before looking at clothes, but looked too relieved when you brushed over it.

Barnes was anxious at the idea of shopping for fucking clothes but was okay after you took over for him.

The taste of stomach acid burned your tongue, as yesterday's dinner threaten to rise at the implication of all of this.

"DAHLIA," you mumbled, "the- the rest of those instances- do they..."

You trained your eyes on Barnes.

"Do they all- follow the same... The same- pattern?"

DAHLIA was always in tune with you, even after the time jump.

"... Yes," she lamented.

"God..."

Now, you're not sure who that trash can would be really for; you or Barnes.

"Barnes..."

You murmured quietly. He flinches, and his shaking hasn't gotten any better.

"What- what was it? Was it- was it all too much? God, I'm so sorry, it probably was, wasn't it? I should have- fuck, I should have taken it more slowly, I-"

Barnes shakes his head, stopping you in your rambling. You blinked rapidly.

"Then- was it..." you paused, "... Was it the choices?"

It's almost expected that he doesn't answer you straight away, but he nodded anyway.

"I... It was- it was too much- I couldn't- I don't know- I-"

His breath shuddered with each word as if it hurt him to just even speak right now. You shushed him, ignoring the intrusive thought that it was akin to shushing an animal.

"Hey, hey, it's- it's okay. You'll be okay."

It's not much, what you're saying to him, and it's no surprise that they didn't do much anyway.

Honestly, you didn't know what to say at this point. There didn't even seem to be any phrasing in the known English language that would be able to comfort a man with as much baggage on his shoulders as Barnes, and briefly, just briefly, you wished that you were literally anywhere in the world, but here.

You tried thinking about anything that came from your (albeit limited) interactions with him between the past days that would help ground him, before something jolts you from deep within.

("What are my mission parameters," Barnes asked from behind you.

You paused.

"Mission parameters?")

You didn't even realize that you had said that out loud, but Barnes had tensed up even more before you could even take it back. He held his breath, audibly swallowing.

("You don't need mission parameters, Barnes. You're your own free man. You can- can make decisions on your own. You don't need me to tell you what you need to do.")

("I... Don't understand...")

You spoke on impulse.

"You... You need them, don't you? Mission parameters."

Immediately, you regretted even speaking up just as those words left your mouth.

While every fiber in your being hoped that it wasn't true, there was a small inkling in your head that already knew the answer to your question. It was the only thing that was barely even logical enough to make sense.

His apprehension of making a choice.

How uncomfortable in his own skin he always appeared, despite it even being just a few days.

How relieved he always looks, when the choice was already made for him.

His body tenses underneath your hand, but it's the slight bob of his head that makes your stomach drop. You thought- what a fool you were- you thought he'd be okay without being ordered around, but that was nothing but wishful thinking.

(What was the saying? It's hard to teach an old dog a new trick, was it?)

(Yeah.)

Looking at how only a few days of what you had originally thought was Barnes' newfound freedom turned out to be much more of a nightmare for Barnes, it might just be better for the both of you to push aside your comfortability and start making an honest-to-God investment into Barnes' recovery, even if that means that you had to take a step backward.

A very, very risky step backward.

It was a shot in the dark, but it was the only thing that you could place your bets on for now.

You just hoped that your aim wouldn't fail you now.

"Okay, well... How about this, Barnes, here's your main- your main mission, okay? Become a free man. Hey, no, look at me," you swiveled his head so he could look at you. His eyes were panicked, crazed, and irredeemably sad, but you had to make sure nothing crossed through your face so he'd know that everything will be okay. Your grip on both sides of his face was firm as you pleaded with him.

"Your only 'mission' right now? Breathe," ironically, his breath hitched, "If not for your own sake, then for mine."

You swallowed, heart stuttering as you looked into his glassy eyes.

"Please," you let your desperate prayer lingered in the air.

Maybe it was being given a task to accomplish after days of trying to figure out what to do with his supposed new "freedom", or it was how non-labor intensive and just... simple, his new mission parameter was, but it was almost instantaneous how all of the tension in his body dissipated into thin air.

Witnessing the moment of mercy upon grief through Barnes, no matter how brief or temporary it may be, was almost cathartic.

Almost.

(Perhaps you shouldn't be looking for absolution vicariously. But you were never really a good person, were you?)

_______

A/N: I've read a lot of WinterIron fics. While I have read a lot of interpretations about how Barnes would have reacted when he was freshly freed from HYDRA, this is how I choose to interpret it- one that would best fit the story for now. Next chapter, since I couldn't fit it in this chapter, is a special, but it is very much important and related to the story, and Barnes as a character. If you're familiar with some WinterIron tropes, this won't be too foreign of an idea. Not too sure about other ships/ stories, but. Ah, I'm rambling. Anyways, see you next year lol.

_______

Masterlist 

_______

Tagged: @unsolvetheheckoutofit @tonystanktheirondad @ludwigvonbaethoven @rspctot7 (if you’re not @/ fabledxmystery, so sorry for the mistag! LMK if it’s not you) @tolkoskott @klanceiscannon14 @deos-life (grr it won’t let me tag you) @kp1183 (kperla1183) @xyuriko-akamine (akabaneyuriko) @kettnerjanea​ @soldier-42 @daybreakmistakes @spnfanboy777 @crash-zite @jm-cy

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 33

Fandom: Marvel 

Summary: Based on “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​

[Somewhere in a universe far, far away…] 

There was a soft brush of fabric on the polished floor that accompanied the approaching steps of leather shoes. Frigga stopped a little to Heimdall's left. 

"What do your golden eyes see, my friend?" 

"They see many things, my queen." 

Bifrost glimmered in the million colors under their feet. Lines and flashes passed faster than the human eye could see. The sword that was the key to every way, waited in Heimdall's hands.

"What do you see of my troubled sons?" 

"They are both learning through new experiences." 

Frigga sighed. "Which usually means they’ve gotten in even more trouble. Tell me, what is it this time?" 

Heimdall stood tall on the dais, the armor forged in ancient times by the hands of legends half forgotten by time still impeccable. The worlds moved before his eyes, with no secrets hidden from the gaze of the All-Watcher. 

"They are faring well, my queen. Even Loki." 

"I had hoped that banishment to Earth would be a better choice than the dungeons." Frigga's hand clutched the gown over her heart. "What did he do this time?" 

A smile ghosted on the lips of the All-Watcher. "It appears that he's made friends. Quite close ones, I dare say." 

"Oh, dear," Freya repeated in a completely different tone. A wicked light played in her eyes. "Do tell, my friend." 

*

[The same universe, a little closer] 

Life in big cities bears a certain strain on everyone's minds. Despite what the newspapers, thirsty for anything and everything worthy and unworthy of filling the pages with, would like you to believe, life had always been difficult. 

Time is always lacking, and money is never enough, and no matter how much you strain your brain, it just sometimes happens that you might not remember about the things stored at the very back of your tiny shop, tucked cozily into the corner of a very calm street. 

"Well," the man said. "I had no idea that I still had those in the freezers. I could've sworn that I have cleaned them before the winter and left nothing except for the packed broccoli. It must be your lucky day, my boy." 

The boy indeed felt very lucky. It was not everyday that one could be sent out to fetch ice cream for a living god in the middle of winter. 

"Have a nice day, sir!" he called on his way out. 

The chilly breeze bit into his cheeks, warmed up in the comforting interior of the grocery. Snow shined on the few surfaces not yet stamped on. The sidewalk Peter chose was a slippery trap that only his spider senses got him through unscathed. 

Loki sensed his coming, and looked over his shoulder at the approaching boy. His other arm was currently wrapped around your shoulders, tucking you closer into him. Peter tried his best not to stare too openly, but couldn't stop the grin from splitting his face. He sat on the other side of the god, the bench icy cold. 

"Thank you, my boy." The god took the ice cream with obvious delight. It had been your idea to spend the few hours before Peter's totally-not-a-date trying out the goods New York had to offer. At first, Loki had snickered at the suggestion of trying out whatever ice cream was available in the middle of winter, but after a few interesting flavors were discovered, Loki apologized. There was an almost disturbing variety of flavors Loki couldn't even imagine existing. 

"You're welcome, Mr. Mischief. I'm sure there would be a bigger choice if it was summer. I always go to that one vendor two streets away from my house, because he has this special recipe that absolutely blows my taste buds away every time." 

"Sounds intriguing." Loki's mind conjured the last time his taste buds had been blown away. If he recalled that unfortunate event correctly, it had something to do with pizza and a bet. "But I think I'll pass for now." 

The look of pure adoration in the boy's eyes hadn’t  perished. 

"I still can't believe you won't get sick after having so many," you said, and watched Loki devour the caramel. 

"It must be nice to be a god," Peter sighed. "You have awesome superpowers, get to do what you want and they even make action figures of you…" 

Loki frowned. "The what?" 

Peter blanched. He started fumbling with his jacket and 'accidentally' looked at his watch. "Oh, I think I’ve gotta go, it's getting so late and I don't want to make MJ wait—" 

Loki reached out and fixed the hair Peter had been nervously fighting with for the past few hours they'd all spent outside. "Don't forget the ring, boy." 

"Thank you!" 

The boy was beaming on his way out of the park. 

"I'm never washing my hair again." 

The totally-not-a-date that was steadily approaching was something Peter wasn't sure he was ready for. So many things could go wrong—and he had already imagined most of them. It wasn't as if he couldn't sleep all night thinking about it, he just… Was busy. Thinking. 

Peter straightened the jacket that was in absolutely no need of straightening. His hand moved to his hair, but he stopped it halfway with a smile. It'd  been touched by the hand of god, so it was as good as it could ever get. 

On his way out of the park the three of you had been resting in for a while, Peter's mind was in a strange disarray of thoughts. However, he was still capable of noticing the interesting new graffiti decorating the Avengers' statues set up in the middle of the park. Whoever decided to redecorate them this time, certainly had a pair of skillful hands. The wild mustache covering half of Iron Man's face looked almost lifelike. 

Loki and you watched the boy leave, nervousness apparent in his every too-stiff step. 

"They grow up so fast," you sighed, leaning further into Loki. 

He nodded. His finger circled lazily around your shoulder, drawing spiralling patterns. Loki turned his head toward the memorial statues raised in the central part of the park. People took pictures in front of them, posing and smiling as they milled around. Those were the heroes, after all. Saviors of the day. 

Loki added a mustache to another statue. 

You noticed and eased a giggle. "They're going to be so pissed." 

"My very soul aches at that thought. What a terrible crime." 

The patterns changed as you shifted slightly. The presence on his shoulder was warm and softened by the fabric of clothes that kept the winter frost from you. 

"I thought using magic in this world was difficult." 

"It is.There's a lot more focus required to make it work than I'm used to. It's nothing dramatic, though. I've heard of worlds where the trickle of magic is even more strained, to the point where it barely exists at all." 

"Do you miss them? The other worlds, I mean. Like Asgard." 

The patterns changed again. They slowed down, became more deliberate. 

"Sometimes," was the honest answer and the one he gave after careful consideration. 

"Will you leave, then?" 

Loki looked down at his wrist, where a thin band of metal used to reside, blocking every and all effort he might take against leaving Earth or using magic in any form. It was no longer there, which meant, although it would be extremely difficult to conduct, Loki could technically leave. 

The only obstacle was that it was no longer his priority. 

"I've never been one to sit aimlessly on my ass for too long, and especially not when and where I had been forced to do so. I think I could name more than a few places I'd like to pay a visit," he admitted, putting his cheek on the top of your head. His throat bobbed slightly. "The only problem is that I just recently found out how terribly boring touring alone might be. It's a real wonder why anyone bothers to do so anymore, and," he swallowed, "I think I could use some company." 

Loki cursed himself for putting his head on top of yours, and blocking the view of your face. Especially as he still didn't get any answer. His heart jumped into his throat, making it difficult to breathe. 

"...I mean, I know it's still so early, and that's okay if you feel overwhelmed or unsure and I won't force you into anything more than you're willing to do—” 

Loki's rumbles were cut short when you finally moved to look up at him. The wild gleam in your eyes and a wicked smile so similar to his struck him dumb. 

"You'd never be able to leave this planet without me." 

A choked breath, so similar to a whispered name ghosted over his lips. "Of course I wouldn't. What would be the fun in that?"

*

[The galaxy, elsewhere] 

"Oh, dear," the queen broke the biscuit in half with perfect manners. Barely any crumbs dared to ruin the fragile dessert. "I guess he really is experiencing something new." 

Heimdall sipped the tea. Servants at the queen's quarters left them with a small table full of goods of the highest sort. The warm breeze played with the curtains with the subtle shimmer of gold. The trees rustled on the wind, losing old leaves to it. 

"He's also plotting an escape," Heimdall added. His helmet laid on his knee. 

Frigga waved the biscuit in a gesture that had very little to do with manners. "That sounds more like him." 

The softest hint of a smile graced her features. 

"I wonder what will become of him. Maybe it's in my nature as a mother, but no matter how much I try, I can't help but continue to worry about him, even after all these years." 

"I swore to keep an eye on him, and I will." Heimdall put a hand to his heart. There was no smile on his face, only seriousness as he recalled an oath he'd never break. 

"Thank you, my friend."

[starship-squidlet]

2020 in review...

This year has just been a time. Not an easy one, for many of us, myself included. But I’ve been fortunate enough to find a truly wonderful group of people here on Tumblr, at a time when I most needed to have people around. Even though I’ve only known y’all for a few months, it feels like I’ve known you for years already—and I hope to actually be able to say I’ve known y’all for years at some point!!! Thank you to everyone here who has become a friend, and to the rest of you, I hope to get to know you better and be able to call you friend someday as well!!! Thank you for helping me grow as a person and as a writer, and for all of the love and support you’ve shown over the past months. You all mean so, so much to me, but there are a few people I want to mention specifically.

@the-cowbi Mouse, you’re one of the bestest, most amazing people I know, and I’m so lucky to have met you!!! You were the first friend I made in the Newsies fandom, and I’m so glad we met because I’m not sure I would have met anyone else in the fandom if you hadn’t sucked me fully into it. It’s been truly wonderful to see everything you create; your writing is and continues to be amazing, and I can’t wait to see what else you come up with in 2021!!! Thank you so, so much for letting me kidnap/adopt Cora, and for letting me ramble about AUs and OCs and everything else to you all the time. Most of all, thank you for helping me to be a better person, and for reminding me that it’s okay to not be okay when I need to hear it.

@sour-picklee M&M, I am officially adopting you as my new little brother/sibling. You’re the best, and I truly love talking to you all the time. Thank you for trusting me and telling me about your OCs. You’re so creative and clever!!! I’ve loved hearing about the things you’ve created and done so far, and look forward to lots more stories! Also, your art is amazing and I love seeing it always aonfaopinfeoiawpfe.

@cutesiewooren I already got sappy in your ask box, so I’ll keep it simple and just say thank you for always being up for weird conversations about Hobbit AUs where Gandalf is two scandanavian gnome-dwarves in a trench coat and Legolas abandoning Bard’s children in Laketown if there was no Tauriel to keep an eye on them and all of the dwarves being otters. But also for always being up for surprisingly deep conversations when they happen, too xD

@wormsiewithablog hi yes I love you; you’re one of the sweetest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Thank you for yelling at me to finish blankets always being such a wonderful force of love and kindness and joy. Your artwork is amazing and I love to see it and everything else you create. Also, your memes??? Impeccable. You’re a beautiful person inside and out and I’ve loved getting to know you!!! (also yes I’m adopting you too, whether it’s as your vodka aunt or whatever else you want)—

@fifty-for-the-racer ANNE!!! You’re wonderful and it’s been such a joy getting to know you the past few months!!! Thank you so, so much for all of your support on New Music—I’m not entirely sure I would have finished it without your tags and comments encouraging me. It’s been awesome seeing how you’ve been honing your art style and improving as an artist—I can’t wait to see what else you create this year, because it’s all been so lovely so far, yet with every new piece of yours I see I’m like ‘oh my gosh, this is even better than the last one’!!! You’re a wonderful person, and you always have a kind and encouraging word to say and that’s so amazing.

I know there are more people, but my brain is dying so I’m just going to say a big general THANK YOU FOR BEING AMAZING and tag a bunch of people and I know I’m going to miss some but this is everyone I can think of right now and I’m sorry if I’ve forgotten you I promise it’s not because I don’t love you its because I’m not good at remembering names and URLs 😅

@clairejaak @logarithmicpanda @santa-fe-bitch @prettyinlimegreenboots @azapofinspiration @newsies-hit-da-streets @surebuyatickettheyletanyonein @h-anon97 @beep-bop-on-a-worm-to-zanta-fe @tea-withnofixinsplease @serena627 @magikarple @katsintriis @petramcbiteybite @that-newsies-obsessed-idiot @nowisthetimetocarrythebanner @birdies-things @your-bread-friend-your-brother (HOW AM I JUST NOTICING NOW THAT YOU CHANGED YOUR URL TO BREAD WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN???) @alice-blue-skies @lemonlimeimprobabilitydrive @papercrocs and anyone else I forgot!!! You’re all amazing people and I’ve been so blessed to get to interact with you, whatever form that interaction has taken. Thank you for being a part of my life!!!

[writeraquamarinara]

as with everything else in life, I’m late to making this post. I tend to make one around Jan 1st every year, but it’s now a few days after that, and all i can say for myself is that time is non-consequential during a pandemic, right? right.

anywho, this is my usual “thank you for keeping me going this year” post, but with even more fervor. 2020 would not have been nearly as tolerable without you all in it. and when i say all i really do mean all. thank you to anyone who follows me here or has read and supported my work on AO3 or has sent me a message or an ask or even just likes my posts. you can never know how many people’s hearts you’ve touched, lives you’ve made better, but i’m telling you now: you made me smile and laugh and feel love in a year that could have easily stolen all that. thank you for sticking around.

a few more specific shoutouts are under the cut to keep from flooding your dashes. i hope you’re all having a wonderful start to the new year.

much love, mari

to @anniemurphys: ria, i cannot thank you enough, for so many things. you played such a vital role in turning this year around for me. your friendship, and the friendships you’ve helped me make through book club, kept me smiling from week to week. i never wanted to leave our meetings, no matter how long they’d already gone. I could listen to your literary analyses and life advice for days on end. you’re such a kind, patient, loving person, and I’m so lucky to have you in my life. here’s to another year of freaking out over taylor swift albums and the power inherent in voluntarily turning oneself into vegetation.

to @bigdsgirl: heidi, you’re one of the sweetest, most hard-working people i know. you amaze me, and you graciously humor my latest hyper fixations—somehow always knowing, always reblogging content related to what i’m obsessing over at the moment. you give such great advice and have such a calming presence that i love being in chats and on calls with you. i cannot wait for more zoom movie nights in 2021.

to @hellodinoflower: raptor, you’ve supported me for so many years now, and whenever i feel down about my writing i’ll go back through the comments on some of my old fics and yours always make me tear up. you’re so thoughtful and kind and excited about my work that i cannot help but be the same. i hope you enjoyed the little dino reference in pride & publishing—i tried my best, i really did—and i hope you’re doing well. sending you so much love.

to @soyforramen: soy, i promise i’ll get to your head canon asks some day. i promise i haven’t forgotten them; i’m just uncreative and uninspired, but what else is new. you, however, are brilliant and kind and thoughtful, and your guidance in making both life and fic-writing decisions has been so important to me this year. wishing you so much luck with school this year, and even more happiness.

to @ithoughtyoulikedmereckless: rach, where to even begin? you’re the person i talk to when i’m feeling happy or sad or annoyed or angry or pretty much anything, really. our FaceTime convos are my favourite, no matter what time of day we have them at (somehow, the ones at 10pm are just as crazy as the ones at 3am, and i don’t really understand how or why, but i love that for us). i’ve learned so much about myself through my conversations with you, and you keep me level headed when i start doubting myself too much. you understand me on such an amazing level and i’m so lucky that you reached out to me so many years ago. i’m so lucky that we just happened to find each other on here and just so happened to move near each other this year. i still cannot believe i get to see you in person and go on walks in the woods with you. you’re such a talented photographer, writer, painter, baker, and all around artist; an incredibly kind and funny person; and i aspire to be you. i’m rambling now, but just know that i love you.

to @catthecoder: lav, my light, my love. seeing your icon and username on my dash makes me smile so hard. you just give off the best vibes and chatting with you always leaves me feeling like i’ve been basking in the sunlight for the past few hours. we need to make a resolution to sprint with each other more often this year, even if 2021 is going to be as hectic as ever, as i find so much joy in reading your snippets as we go along. you’re such a wonderful writer, and i often read your gift to me from years ago for inspiration and comfort. i hope you’re doing well and am sending so much love.

to @stirringsofconsciousness: stirrings!! i know you’ve had a super busy year, but you still made time to chat with me and i’ll be forever grateful. i often think about the advice you’ve left for me and the thoughtful responses you’ve given to my personal posts and find so much inspiration in your own words and actions. i also still cannot get over the time when you sent me a post of artful vases because you thought of me when you saw them. mortifying ordeal of being known who? anyways lol, i just wanted to thank you for being in my life and wish you a happy 2021.

to @heavy-lies-the-crown: alex, i just wanted to thank you for putting your time and energy towards answering my incessant questions this year. you’ve been an inspiration to me as a writer ever since i first found your work, but you’re also an inspiration to me as a person, and i’m always thinking about the advice you’ve given me. i hope you had a wonderful end to 2020, and that 2021 brings you even more joy than seeing your posts on my dash brings me. much love.

to @stonerbughead: maria, you brought so much happiness to my 2020. your support for my work took my breath away every time, and I swear I nearly cried when I saw your latest comments on pride and publishing. you put so much time and energy into this fandom, and into supporting the people in it, and I hope you know that it doesn’t go unnoticed. we all love you, and we’re so lucky to have you; your fics are brilliant, your podcast highlights are a joy to read, and your disdain for ras is hilarious. thank you for being you. sending lots of love.

to @sullypants: sully, it’s been years and i still marvel at how lucky i am to know you. you’ve taught me so much, from how to be more thoughtful to how to navigate therapy and self-love to how to be a kinder person in the world. you introduced me to ask polly and you send me really nice asks and you’re one of like four people who interacts with my posts on a consistent basis, which makes me feel a little less alone in the world, if that makes any sense. i’m going to stop myself from rambling on or else i might cry, but i just wanted to thank you for—here comes the cliche—changing my life (doesn’t everyone we meet change our lives, in some way or another? but you’ve changed mine considerably, and for the better). sending you so much love (in the form of both yellow and blue heart emojis)

to @justcourbeau: mel, our paths cross less frequently now than they used to, but that doesn’t mean i don’t think about you and the conversations we’ve had, or smile when i come across your posts on my dash, or when i happen to open up instagram once in a blue moon and see you’ve posted on your story. please never stop sending me sparknotes memes—especially cask of amontillado ones. your words of advice from the night i called you, distraught, a few years ago live in my brain rent free, and i will continue to carry them into 2021 with me. i hope 2021 treats you well, and that you achieve all you want and more. sending you an immense amount of love.

to @protectorofthesmoll: your string of comments on pride and publishing made me cry multiple times, i swear. i still read them back every so often, when i’m trying to muster the courage to start up on the new chapter. your support means so much to me, and it amazes me how far back it goes: I’m pretty sure I have at least two asks of yours sitting in my inbox, from back in 2018 when I had barely any followers or supporters, both of them writing prompts that I never filled. i promise i’ll get to them one day. anywho, i just wanted to thank you for your support this year, and every year before that. wishing you so much love and happiness in 2021.

to @panalegs27: 2020 was the year of figuring out that we have so much in common: a hatred of dating apps, confusion over tumblr’s obsession with the raven cycle, and an attraction to logan lerman with gray hair. thank you for chatting about all of these things, and more, with me; seeing that you’ve sent me a post always makes me smile, and our conversations make me laugh. wishing you even more love and laughter in 2021.

to @indiebughead: maria, it’s been so lovely getting to know you more over the course of this year. i love listening to your stories and living vicariously through you, lol. (i want updates on new neighbor boy, asap!) thank you for listening to my petty rants and for encouraging me to make bad decisions and be salty on main when i want to be. i couldn’t have asked for a more supportive conspirer ;) sending lots of love.

to @redundantoxymorons: iz, you’re one of the smartest, most eloquent, most supportive people i know. i know 2021 will be both stressful and exciting in many ways, and i wish you all the best. i know you’re going to thrive wherever you end up, and i’ll cheer you on as you navigate this new world, just as you’ve done for me all these years. i’m so lucky to have you as a friend, supporter, and beta, and all of our conversations bring me so much joy. pls continue to gush about taylor swift and rec books and send uquizzes with results that make me feel Known in 2021. i love you very much <3

to @cracklr: leda, i’ve missed your passive aggressive smiley faces, but your gushing insta comment more than made up for that, i promise :) sending you so much love and happiness in this new year <3

to @dottie-wan-kenobi: dottie, the posts we send each other make me so upset, but in a good way—the “if i just had to see this nasty shit then so do you” kind of way—and i love that about our relationship. who else would understand how disgustingly hilarious something is other than my wife? no one, that’s who. i often think about how you were the first friend i made in fandom, and i’ll be forever grateful for that: i couldn’t have found a better person. i love you so much, and am sending you all my love.

this list of shoutouts is really much shorter than it should be, but my brain is currently friend and i cannot seem to think properly anymore. therefore, i’m going to call it a day and reiterate my above statements that I love you all, and I hope you have a fucking amazing 2021.

[saoirse-ronan]

lights will guide you home

title: lights will guide you home fandom: wonder woman, dccu pairing: steve trevor x diana prince  rating: t summary: he falls half in love with her the first time he sees her skate.

(a wondertrev college au: in which steve trevor, a player on his university's club hockey team, helps run the school's ice rink when it's open to the public in december.  he expects it to be another boring year, until he meets a figure skater who just might change his life.)

read on archive of our own

author’s note: hi! this fic was written for @bearholdingashark as part of the wondertrev secret santa gift exchange run by ​@wondertrevnet

ice skating is my favorite holiday activity, but because of covid i haven't been able to go :/  so i decided the best way to make up for it would be to write a fic where out lovelies skate!

this was fun to write! hope you like it, jen!

xoxo, rebekah

lights will guide you home

He’s never excited to work the skate rental booth, even though he’s had to do it for the past three years.  Since he’s on his college’s club hockey team, he’s obligated to help run the school ice rink, along with his teammates, once it opens to the public come December.  He always picks handing out skates.  It’s the most boring, for sure, but it’s also the easiest - that means he can study for finals at the same time.  So while the other guys fight over who gets to drive the zamboni, he quietly and dutifully signs up for the skate rental booth, and leaves.

He also always signs up for early afternoon shifts; hardly anyone is there on the weekdays, which, again, means more time for studying.  He doesn’t expect this fourth year to be any different.

Except when he arrives at noon on December 1st, there are about ten kids already skating around on the ice, their parents sitting in a cluster in the stands, talking and taking pictures on their phones.

“What’s up with all the kids?” he asks Eleanor - one of the rink custodians he’s come to recognize over the years - who’s sweeping around the rental booth.  He throws his backpack on the counter as the older woman pauses her work and leans on her broom.  She smiles gently as she looks out at the ice.

“One of the girls in the figure skating club wanted to give free lessons this year.  So you’ll have some entertainment this year.”

He motions to his backpack.

“Brought my entertainment with me.”

“Well, this entertainment might be more entertaining, and I heard,” she says, moving her hand beside her mouth so she can fake-whisper in his direction, “it might be a little easier on the eyes, too.”

He rolls his eyes, and Eleanor laughs.

“Are you going to try and set me up with someone every year?”

Last year she’d convinced a young woman who brought her niece skating on a regular basis to go over and talk to him.  It had been hmms and yeahs and awkward pauses and forced laughs and had, decidedly, gone nowhere.

“I can only try, Steve.  Don’t study too hard, okay?” she calls over her shoulder as she walks away.

He gives her a thumbs up in confirmation, and then sits down and gets out his books.  He’s just about to put in headphones so he can drown out the Christmas music that plays throughout the arena at this time of year with some music of his own, but hears one of the heavy metal doors to the rink open noisily before he can hit play.  A loud but melodic voice rings out in the almost-empty building.

“I’m here!  Sorry I’m late!”

A young woman rushes in, racing past his table and throwing her bag in the bleachers, moving in such a hurry that he doesn’t get a good look at her until she takes the ice, gliding onto the slippery surface with ease.

Apart from her white skates and a deep purple scarf and matching gloves, she’s dressed in all black, long dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail.  She’s tall - taller than most figure skaters he knows - and lean, but she’s strong.  She must be, given her sport, but he can also tell in the way she’s carrying herself on the ice.  He can’t see her full face - only her side profile - but he can tell she’s beautiful.

The children flock to her easily, a couple tripping in their eagerness to get to her.  She skates over and helps them up.  Then, she tells the children to circle around her - in that same melodic voice - and turns.

When he sees her face, looks into her deep brown eyes, his jaw goes slack.

She’s beautiful, undoubtedly.  More than beautiful, he decides.  Breathtaking.  He literally stops breathing for a moment, and his next inhale is a shaky one as his heartbeat speeds up.

Their gazes are still connected, so he notices when her eyes go from kind to questioning.  He has a strange urge to get up and go to her, to take her hand and ask her gently what was wrong, when her voice sounds again.

“Is everything okay?  Do I need to sign in or something?”

Shit, I’m staring.

He’s staring like an idiot and he pulls his headphones out of his ears and briefly pretends to read the textbook in front of him before answering.

“Oh, uh, no.  No, you’re fine.  I just...I’ve never seen you before...around here.”

“Oh,” she says, still staring at him strangely, but now looking amused rather than confused.  She smiles, and his thumping heart skips a beat.  “I’m giving lessons at noon on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays this December.”

It takes a moment to smile back, but when he does, he sees her relax a bit.

“Yeah, yeah.  I, uh, figured,” he answers, stupidly, still stumbling over his words like an idiot.

She smiles once more, and then turns back to the kids around her.

“Okay guys!  Who’s ready to learn to skate?”

A chorus of tiny voices answer her, and she skates to the middle of the ice surrounded by her small students.  He watches, mesmerized, as she begins to move with all the seamless, effortless grace in the world.  Studying is all but forgotten, and the beginnings of an enchanted smile turn up the corner of his lips.

“I told you it would be easy on the eyes, didn’t I?” a voice says from somewhere behind him.

“Shut up, Eleanor,” he says, still watching her, and the old custodian laughs.

* * *

He spends his weekend trying to muster up the courage to talk to her.  It’s like every cliché movie ever; he stands in his bathroom and talks to himself in the mirror, trying to think of smooth lines and cool looks.  He had looked like an idiot last Monday, and kept his sights on his books and avoided any more eye contact with her on Wednesday and Friday.

But it was a new week, a new day.  And he couldn’t blow it again.  He wouldn’t, he thought confidently as he rushed into the ice rink.  It didn’t even matter that he was ten minutes late.  He had practiced.

Since he’s late, she and the kids are already on the ice.  He sits down at the rental booth and pulls out his books, making a conscious effort to not look at her.  He doesn’t want to seem too eager.  Playing it cool was of paramount importance.  He even puts in his headphones, and presses play on his phone.  The soothing music he uses to study begins to ring in his ears.

He opens one of his textbooks, and begins to read…

...And the next thing he’s aware of is the pound of a firm knock on the table in front of him.  His eyes snap open, and he jumps slightly, disoriented and groggy.

He had fallen asleep.

He stayed up late the night before, completing study guides and endlessly highlighting his notes as he crammed for finals.  He only got about four hours of sleep, but he thought he would be fine.

Apparently, he wasn’t.  And now he had fallen asleep, and missed her, and now Eleanor was waking him up to tell him his shift was over or to tease him about sleeping on the job and - 

“Steve?”

The sound of his name wakes him up even more, and his heart leaps when he realizes that it’s not Eleanor’s voice calling to him.  Instead, it’s the melodic one he’d first heard a week ago.

He looks up, and there she is.  Her beautiful eyes stare down at him, the expression on her face puzzled but slightly amused.

“Steve?” she asks again, when he doesn’t say anything.  “Steve Trevor, right?”

And he almost kicks himself.  He’d been caught staring again, and he can feel his cheeks begin to warm as he blushes in embarrassment.

No, he tells himself.  Not again.  Pull yourself together.  You fucking practiced.

He quickly tries to think of something to say, his brain reminding him to play it cool on loop.

“How...how do you know my name?”

God, he’s so bad at this.

“Oh,” she says, lifting her hand and pointing her thumb over her shoulder.  “That nice custodian woman told it to me.  Eleanor, I think she said her name was?”

He sits up straighter so he can look past her body, and sees Eleanor by the doors to the locker rooms, waving at him cheerfully with a big smile on her face.  He resists the urge to roll his eyes, looking back up at the young woman in front of him and smiling.

“Yeah, I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.  It’s been fun watching you with the kids.”

Better, he thinks.  A little better.

She smiles brightly at the mention of her student.

“Yes, they’re wonderful.  I’m having an amazing time with them.”

“Well, they seem to love you.  You’re a great teacher.”

“Why, thank you, Steve Trevor,” she answers, her smile turning more gentle and kind.  “You’ve only seen me teach for three days, though.”

“Four, now.”

“Ah, but you slept through the fourth day,” she reminds him, and his skin flushes again.

She laughs at his lack of response, and again, his heart skips a beat.  He can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

They fall silent, and he’s briefly reminded of that girl Eleanor tried to set him up with last year, and all the awkward lurches and pauses that made up that conversation.  This silence is different, though.  It doesn’t make him nervous or uncomfortable, and he’s not scrambling for a way out of the interaction.

Instead, it feels warm.  Somehow familiar, even though this is the first time they’ve ever spoken.  And as they stare at each other, her chocolate eyes gazing into his ice blue ones, his smile grows.

“I was wondering if I could skate one of my programs while I was here,” she murmurs.  “I have a test tonight, so I’ll miss my normal practice time.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’ll be disturbing anyone,” he says, motioning with his hand to the empty arena.

She laughs again, and he decides that it’s his new favorite sound.

“Thank you, Steve,” she tells him, and turns toward the ice.

“Wait!” he says, getting up from his booth and catching up with her.  “Do you want me to play your music over the loudspeaker?”

Her eyes brighten.

“Could you?  I was just going to use my phone, but that would be a lot better.”

“Sure.  Just show me which track.”

She hands him her phone, and points it out to him.  He grins.

“Hey, I know that song.”

She hums softly, and begins to walk again.

“Maybe,” she tells him as she steps out onto the ice, turning back to face him.  “But I don’t think you’ve ever heard this version.”

She begins to skate backwards away from him, but his voice rings out again.

“I don’t know your name!”

“Diana,” she calls back to him, without stopping.  “Diana Prince.”

“Diana,” he whispers, as he watches her skate away.

* * *

He falls half in love with her the first time he sees her skate.

The moment she begins to move to the first notes of the piano, she is the embodiment of elegance and grace.  He rushes from the media booth and back down to the ice so he can get a closer look.  Even through the glass, he can see emotion she puts into every moment of her performance, watches as the expression on her face changes as the music speeds up, as the mood shifts.

Then, the music slows, and becomes softer.  She glides as if she’s one with both the ice and the music.  And when the music speeds up again, and becomes more intense, so does she.  Her jumps and twirls seem effortless, as she lands each one with a gentle precision.

He can’t look away.  The entire arena is filled with her performance - with her effort and emotion and heart and skill - and he’s enchanted by her.

When she’s done, and holds her final pose at the center of the ice as the music comes to an end, he realizes he’s been holding his breath.  He exhales slowly, and then takes a deep breath in.

Eleanor starts clapping from somewhere else in the building.  She finally breaks from her pose, and looks over at her, smiling.

But all he can do is stare after her, mouth slightly open.

It’s only when she begins to get off the ice that he gathers himself.  And he makes a decision.

He doesn’t care if he looks like an idiot, or if he’s being too obvious.  He’s done trying to play it cool.

He can’t go another day without knowing her better.

He walks to where she’s standing over her gym bag, looking for her shoes.  He taps her on the shoulder, acutely aware that this is the first time they’ve ever touched.

“Diana?”

She jumps slightly, and turns to look at him.  She doesn’t say anything, though.  It’s as if she knows why he’s here, and what he’s going to ask her.

“Will you get dinner with me Friday?”

She grins, her smile wider and brighter than he’s ever seen it.

“It would be an honor, Steve Trevor.”

She reaches up to where his finger still lingers on her shoulder, and places her hand over his.

* * *

The other half of him falls in love with her the first time they skate together.

After their third date, he asks her to teach him how to skate.

“I thought you played hockey,” she tells him.  “You already know how to skate.”

“Yeah, but I can’t skate like you,” he counters.  “And since we already know you’re such a good teacher…”

She smiles as they walk around campus, looking at all the Christmas lights the school has put up, hand in hand.

“I know I’m not as cute as your other students - “

“I beg to differ,” she interrupts.  “And would argue that sometimes, you’re even cuter.”

He blushes, and she laughs.

So they break into the arena. (Well, not technically.  He does have a key to the rink.)  It’s around midnight when they get there, after everyone has already left for the evening.  He gets them both skates out of the booth, and as they lace them up, she laughs.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to teach you to skate in those things.”

“Hey,” he says, frowning.  “Don’t knock my skates.”

He does have to admit, though, that there’s a marked aesthetic difference between his clunky, black hockey skates and her delicate, white figure skates.

“Come on,” she says, standing up and taking his hand so he came with her.  “I might still be able to work my magic.”

They glide to the center of the ice, and she begins positioning his body, immediately going into teacher-mode.  He thinks it’s absolutely adorable.  She says she’s going to teach him a simple upright spin, but he has to admit that he’s not paying much attention because he can’t focus with her hands all over his body - on his hips, legs, chest, lower back, as she moves him in all sorts of directions.  He can only take it so long before he pulls back from her.

She looks at him questioningly.

“Steve, what are you - “

He skates forward slightly, and kisses her.

He kisses her, and at first he’s worried he’s made a mistake because her lips remain still, but then she moans softly against his mouth, and melts into him.  She throws her arms around her neck, and when his tongue swipes across her bottom lips she parts her mouth readily.

It’s his favorite kiss he’s ever had.  And he doesn’t know how long they stay there like that, kissing and holding each other, but they break apart only when they have to, and breathe against each other heavily.  They’re silent for a moment, but there’s a comfort in it, just like there was that day he first saw her skate.

“I thought you wanted to learn how to skate,” she says finally, jokingly.

“I do,” he ensures her.  “But I think I want to do this a little more right now.”

She giggles, and the sound warms him from head to toe.

“I think we’re in agreement there,” she murmurs.

They smile and stare at each other, him pulling her impossibly closer, and her running her fingers gently down the side of his face.

And in that moment, he knows he loves her.  The feeling consumes him, and he almost blurts it out right there.  But he decides to keep it to himself for now, for it to be a happy secret that lives inside his heart.  And instead, he does the thing he wants to do most in the world.

He leans forward, and kisses her again.

a/n: the song diana is skating to is the mashup of paradise and fix you by coldplay that maia and alex shibutani skated to for their long dance at the pyeongchang olympics.  i strongly suggest you look it up if you've never seen it or heard it!  not only will it give you a more complete idea of the fic, but it's a beautiful song and an extraordinarily beautiful program.

merry christmas to all who celebrate!  i hope all of you have a wonderful holiday season!

[maggiecheungs]

2020 ~everything~ wrap

i finally have time to do all of the tag games that people have tagged me in over the past month or so! i cannot for the life of me remember who tagged me in which one, so i’m just putting ~everything~ in one huge post. if i tag you anywhere then consider it a standing invitation to do whichever of these you haven’t done :) in fact, this is me issuing a standing invite to any of my followers who wants to do it :) also, thank you all!

Creator Wrap: Favourite Works

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

this collection of philosophy quotes paired with thai bl series, (and its sequel) which is possibly my favourite thing i’ve ever made. for, uh, nerd reasons.

these gifted text post memes i made still make me laugh sometimes

this fic about green from 2gether, which i wrote in the notes app on my phone and published the same day. not my absolute best writing but i am very fond of it <3

i have a bunch fof friend zone dangerous area edits/shitposts which i like, but i’m particularly fond of my fzda as satire headlines (which now has a sequel!)

i also love my crisgood-walmart-lesbian post. i might send it in to gmmtv to try and convince them to do a crisgood-bffs spin-off

+ bonus: since i wrote this list i made this gifset (my first ever!) of jennie panhan in the shipper and i love her too much not to include her on here

+ extra nerdy bonus: this niche meme about Chinese philosophy, which still makes me crack up whenever I think about it

Favourite Creators/Follow Forever

i’ve completely lost track of who’s following who from which blog, so this is just going to be a haphazard, non-exhaustive list of people who i adore/admire/am vaguely intimidated by, mutuality be damned. maybe we talk all the time! maybe we’ve never interacted! maybe i am constantly there in ur tags... lurking... 👀... but if you’re on this list you have made me smile at least once this year and i love you for that alone <3

@wjmild kylie!! you make gifs of arm & tay & lee (separately or in various combinations) & the shipper & and kapook & random fluke pusit cameos & school rangers so i don’t have to <3 ilysm

@janeramida vianey, you have such impeccable taste in general, but your sizzy gifset in particular is so gorgeous it lives in my mind rent free

@applelapis bri, this post was a callout and i want you to know that it haunts me at night as i lie awake staring at the ceiling :((((( i hope you are happy

@gigiesarocha cata, i love it when you show up on my dash bc you have!! such taste!! also, every time you gif gigie i gain five years of life <3 pls continue doing the Good Work

@pvrrish​ eleni, i remeber legit thinking that this was an official poster when i first saw it, it’s so beautiful

@ahysopae​ juliette your khaithird fic is so good and it literally changed the way i think about khai (not an easy feat)

@kurosawadachi angel, whenever i think about grace’s speech i remember your gifset and get literal chills

@doctorbahnjit alexa, you have no right to be as funny as you are. your friend zone edits give me life

@khaotungthanawat sam, you’re probably sick of getting tagged in these lists by random strangers, but i just had to bc your gifsets are Pure Art

@tanwirapong roa, all your gifsets are so ✨iconic✨

faiza @asianmelodrama and rahul @petekaos! yours were the first two thai drama blogs i followed and for ages i lowkey thought of you as my fandom parents.

and some more blogs that make me happy: @curlykytta / @lee-thanat  / @fck-inspector-m / @pangwave / @tichawongtipkanon / @tawanv @kimmonv (violet istg i have spent more time this year trying to figure out how many blogs you have than i have spent admiring your gifsets. & i spend a lot of time admiring your gifsets) / @taytawan / @1akorn and @yihwas (and your radiant lovechild @lakornladies ofc) / @teh-ohaew / @vihokratanas (mel your gifsets are just so gorgeous) / @tootiredtoosadtooangry / @headcompletelyempty / @demiromanticmickey​ / and there are definitely more but my brain is a sieve so apologies if i’ve forgotten anyone!! i love you all!! 

2020 HIGHLIGHTS ✨

rules: list your top 10 shows (bl or not) you watched in 2020 (doesn’t necessarily have to be shows that came out in 2020 though!)

1. 2GETHER & STILL2GETHER

my first thai drama, and even after all the amazing shows i’ve watched this year, it still has a special place in my heart. watching 2gether was the first time i’d ever seen a queer romcom that just... was. for me, by the simple fact of its being, 2gether was revolutionary. and then still2gether came along and took all the best things about the first season and gave us something beautiful and quiet and lovely and just proved to me, once and for all, that queer happiness doesn’t need to justify its own existence. there can be gay cuddles on the beach for no other reason than that we want them. 

2. UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

i don’t really have the words for this one but. it makes my heart so very soft.

3. FRIEND ZONE 2: DANGEROUS AREA

season one was mindless fun because everyone was an absolute trashfire and it was hella cathartic to watch, but season 2... wow. i love it for so many reasons: it has messy and authentic queer rep; the characterisation is excellent and i somehow care about all of the characters; amazing women taking centre stage(!); a wlw relationship with lesbian, ace and bipolar rep; multiple interesting plotlines; actual character development; arm weerayut as a chaos gremlin... absolutely one of my favourites of 2020.

4. CHERRY MAGIC

i don’t think i need to explain this one, which is fortunate, because i have no idea how exactly i’d describe the happy-warm-fuzzy-queer-seen-loving-affirmed-profound feeling that rises in my chest whenever i think about it. 

5. THE GIFTED: GRADUATION

confession: i liked season 2 more than season 1 (with the exception of the ending, which we don’t talk about). season 1 was enjoyable and interesting, but for me it was season 2 which made me love this series. it did some incredibly interesting and complicated things (even if it didn’t quite nail the landing): it pushed characters to the breaking point and wove so many layers into the story and questioned its own underlying themes. plus, watching it alongside everyone in the fandom made it 200% better. i love all of you and i love this show. egg girl 5eva.

6. THE SHIPPER

i 100% understand why so many people didn’t like this show, or found it problematic, but through some fluke it absolutely worked for me (even the ending). one day i will write an essay explaining my rationale, but for now i’ll just say that it’s one of my favourite shows about adolescence and queerness and identity and compassion and friendship and love that i’ve ever watched. 

7. YYY

this series is absolutely off its rocker, and it somehow managed to be one of the most affirming shows i’ve watched. it shouldn’t have worked by it did, and i love it so much.

8. 3 WILL BE FREE

absolutely iconic. amazing plot, stunning visuals, great characters, canon polyamory, jennie being incredible... what a series.

9. MANNER OF DEATH

i love the fact that this show exists; i love the mix of crime and romance; i love maxtul’s acting; i love the central relationship; i love bun. i know we’re not even halfway through yet, but this show is doing something special and i’m so grateful that i get to watch it unfold in real time. 

10. CHIHAYAFURU (SEASON 3)

odd one out on my list, but I had to include it. chihayafuru is my all-time favourite anime and it finally got a third season, which is somehow even better than the first two. mashima taichi is one of my favourite characters of all time and his storyline hits me on such a profound level. plus, in the years since i first say this show i’ve fallen in love with classical japanese literature (particularly heian poetry) so i had newfound appreciation for the karuta matches (aka i cried every time someone recited one of my favourite poems)

other favourites: together with me, he’s coming to me, sotus and sotus s, my dear loser: edge of 17, why r u, theory of love, wake up chanee!, gameboys, pearl next door, uta koi (anime), three kingdoms (2010), blood and water (netflix). (itsay would almost certainly be on my list if i’d had time to watch it. same with dark blue kiss, which i had to pause so i could do my assignments)

Final Thoughts

well, it’s been... a year (i don’t think anyone needs a reminder of the details) but writing this post has reminded me of all the amazing shows and people I discovered over the course of it.

thank you to everyone for being so lovely and creative and funny and quirky and kind and passionate. you’re all incredibly awesome people and i wish all of you the very best xx

[peachcitt]

peach's top songs to project adrien agreste onto: waterparks edition

(disclaimer: the title is not to say that there will ever be other editions, but i did want to specify that this list is entirely comprised of songs made by the band waterparks. thank you)

ive been experiencing adrien agreste brain worms in relation specifically to waterparks, which is one of my favorite bands, and since ive been going insane over the adrien-specific feelings these songs have been giving me, i decided to make a master list of exactly how i project adrien onto these songs. this is going to be a long one

structure:

Intro

Airplane Conversations

Black Light

Cluster

Double Dare

Entertainment

Fandom

Greatest Hits

Conclusion

1. intro

it should be mentioned that i originally started hardcore projecting adrien onto waterparks songs after i started making my mlb radio rebel au in which adrien is a pop singer for his dad/in a band for fun with his best friends. i was trying to figure out what adrien's music might sound like, or what vibe his music would give off, and my mind immediately went to waterparks because they're one of my favorite bands and also because im insane.

in my head, for the au specifically, waterparks' earlier garage-band sounds from their EPs (airplane conversations, black light, cluster) would've matched up to adrien's band for fun in the au, and their later more pop-leaning songs from later albums (mostly fandom but also double dare and entertainment) would've matched up to the pop songs he released under his father's label. so that's how it started, which is, like, the most absurd origin story ever, but such is how it goes.

it should also be mentioned that i don't project adrien onto EVERY song, and the songs i do project him on aren't like. the most perfect fit, but there are always certain lines that scream adrien, and if it's like that, then i will include the song on the list.

with that explained, let's actually talk about the songs i project adrien onto and why:

2. airplane conversations

like i mentioned earlier, waterparks has a couple of garage-band sounding EPs, and this is for sure one of them. airplane conversations is the first EP they released, and the main themes are: feeling stuck, recognizing the fact that you are Growing Up, and being in love

5/5 songs on this EP can be considered adrien songs

silver

the song starts with:

"i’ll be the silver lining around your fence used to protect yourself from all the world and its sharp teeth 'cause my open hand and heart think you belong with me"

which is very ladynoir-esque. the beginning line of wanting to be "the silver lining" around the other person's protective fence against the rest of the world reminds me so strongly of chat's place as ladybug's partner; she wanted so badly to guard herself against the rest of the world after she became the guardian, and chat saw that and wanted to be her bright side to all the stress of being the guardian/a superhero. he stayed beside her and joked around because he loved her but also because he recognized that he needed something bright - a silver lining - to balance out all her stress. and "my open hand and heart think you belong with me" is pretty self explanatory, but chat's heart is always open for ladybug - as a partner, as a friend, as a potential lover. he supports her, in any and every way she might need.

in the second verse, we get:

"I was the one who kept myself standing tall You were the light at the end of the hall"

which relates to adrien enduring his dismal home life. his father and the work his father imposes on him isn't easy, but adrien was and still is able to stand tall beneath it all - partly because of what he wants for himself (he ran away to public school entirely on his own, after all), but also because ladybug is there to mark and signify the freedom and love he feels with her as chat noir.

bones of '92

so bones of '92 isn't. like a super adrien song, mostly because it's very much about the struggles waterparks was having as a new band, however the outro is. well. it's:

"i won’t let you down just promise that you won’t forget about me can’t stop the future from settling but i can change the way it feels just promise that you won’t forget about me"

this feels like adrien is speaking to his father in the first couple of lines ("i won't let you down / just promise you won't forget about me") because of how much of a strict and absent father gabriel is. i think adrien, at least in part, believes that the only way he is able to gain affection from his father is by doing exactly as he says and going along with what his father wants.

the next couple of lines ("can't stop the future from settling / but i can change the way it feels") is adrien's hopeful call to the future. he's stuck right now with his father, and he maybe even thinks that he'll always be stuck doing what his father wants, but he can change how he feels by being chat noir. by being chat noir, adrien is taking hold of his own future and his own feelings, shining a positive light on the future that he may not have had before.

the last line, a repetition of "just promise that you won't forget about me" could again be talking to his father, another plea after expressing his own desire, like he thinks that his father won't approve of him wanting his own things. or it could be adrien talking to ladybug or even the city itself; adrien loves being chat noir, but he's not really as popular as ladybug, and he also fears his relationship with ladybug. he needs frequent reminders from her that he's valuable and important to her, and so this fear of being forgotten - by her or Paris - tracks well with his character.

i was hiding under your porch because i love you

also not a huge adrien song BUT the line "it's just you and me / through all these inconsistencies" screams ladynoir

they all float

again, not a huge adrien song but my powers of projecting are unmatched and the line "this time i'll do things the way you wanted / it's not right, but it's just the way you wanted / lay it all on me, 'cause i'm all ears" is another adrien to gabriel line.

fantastic

i did not really consider this an adrien song until i looked up the lyrics and realized it was. im right. we have the chorus:

"i can't imagine fast enough to settle on a dream but i've spent this winter wondering when they're gonna settle on me and there's some things i've just gotta know but one thing's for sure"

which is another inscription of adrien's hopelessness in regards to his position with his father; he's never been given the opportunity to truly figure out what he wants for himself, and so he doesn't even really know where to start. the "one thing" that's for sure can be interpreted as the controlling hand gabriel has on his life, or it can take a more hopeful tone, considering that we have seen adrien take those first steps to move out of gabriel's control - by going to public school and by becoming chat noir. the "one thing" for sure could be gabriel, but it can also be that, for sure, adrien will always find ways to escape gabriel.

in the post chorus, we get:

"and i can't wait to go outside and spend my summers contemplating what I'm gonna do with my life"

which lends hope to adrien's "one thing" being him able to escape because of the excited tone of the lines. he "can't wait to go outside" as chat noir, outside of the mansion, and take time to contemplate what he wants from his own life, for himself.

3. black light

black light is the second EP waterparks released, and it's another garage-band sounding EP. the main themes of this EP are: being frustrated with your situation and the people in it, and wanting to carve out a better future for yourself

4/6 songs on this EP can be considered adrien songs

christmas

this is!!!!such an adrien song!!!!!! this is one of the songs that i picture adrien's band playing in my au i mentioned earlier. we start the song with:

"i fell asleep last winter woke up and it was august not much has changed, yeah, i still feel the same but i’m slowly making progress"

which fits into the themes of adrien's character i talked about during airplane conversations of adrien going through the motions of what his father tells him to, but slowly trying to break out of that control and make progress for his own goals.

in the chorus we get:

"i’m just waiting and i’m just saying maybe the end is near but all that means is a new beginning"

this isn't like. super adrien related but i still think it deserves mentioning because of how it progresses through the song (which i will mention in a second), but i think it relates well to the "growing up/fearing the future" stuff we've talked about.

we get a featured singer sing this part (which in my au nino sings, it doesn't matter):

"i’m just waiting for my chance to put a picture of me, put a picture of me in the dream scenes of dream scenes of dream scenes of dream scenes of my ideal future"

which, again, relates to adrien wanting to be able to call his future his own, outside of his father.

and in the outro, we get the lyrics from the chorus changed up a little, so that we get:

"i was waiting and i was saying the end wasn’t ours to fear and all it meant was a new beginning"

in my head, because of the way the tenses change from present to past, this would be adrien's perspective after the events of his childhood and teenage years. but because his youth is also so tied up with being chat noir and defeating hawkmoth (who is his father) i think this is such. this is such an emotional and hopeful line, looking at this from adrien's point of view. after defeating hawkmoth, despite how truly grueling that might be for him, he becomes free from gabriel's control. growing up, defeating hawkmoth, facing the end of childhood means adrien can have a new beginning. he can have his ideal future.

american history

american history isn't fully adriencore but the line "the action's a fraction of how much this hurts" is very much "we're teenage superheroes fighting supervillains every day and somehow the action of the fights is not the worst thing that's happening in my life"

new wave

i actually named my au after this song because it's such a bright, upbeat song against adults who try to tell you the way the things you do isn't right. it fits right in with the theme of the au, and it can also be applied to ladybug and chat noir's fight against hawkmoth.

in the first verse we get:

"call it new wave say it like you should because a call to arms is a calling card and i’m calling soon hoping i can get through to you"

which is like. hawkmoth is "calling to arms" his akumas, which in turn acts as a calling card for ladybug and chat noir. the "i'm calling soon / hoping i can get through to you" is chat noir specific because of the fact that hawkmoth is his father; instead of just defeating him, adrien will probably feel some empathy towards his father and want to get through to him.

in the pre-chorus, we get:

"every single time you throw your white flag down and surrender like every single second's just another second spent to lose but this is something i can’t lose"

which translates to hawkmoth akumatizing a new person nearly every day but still pulling back and "surrendering" after the akuma is defeated. he's playing the long game; he's confident that, eventually, he'll defeat ladybug and chat, and so he doesn't really care if he loses another day. but for ladybug and chat noir, this is life or death. they can't afford to lose to an akuma even once or else they lose the miraculous, maybe their lives, and definitely paris. they can't lose.

the outro is a variation on the intro and it's:

"call it new wave until it's all washed up because we'll be crashing soon but before we do i hope i get through through to you"

which refers to ladybug, chat noir, and hawkmoth "crashing" together in their final battle, but, before they do, adrien hopes to get through to his father, connect with him. and maybe that might make the "crashing into each other" less severe.

night maps

night maps is another song that fit into my au; it starts with:

"i couldn’t keep up with watering myself down and so all that grew was the high tide until i drowned the oxygen had all run out and now i’m left dried up and standing here"

which translates to adrien being drained and watered down to be the image his father wants him to be. the rest of the song, however, is about finding a place for yourself and beginning the process of being yourself again, which, for adrien means being chat noir.

4. cluster

cluster rounds out the early garage-band EPs as the third and final EP. the main themes of this EP are: being separated from someone you love and feeling frustrated about your situation.

4/5 songs on this EP can be considered adrien songs

crave

this is a very bittersweet song about being in love, which makes it, for my intents and purposes, a very bittersweet song about being in love with ladybug. at the beginning of the song, we get:

"i wish i could forget you but it's out of hand i wish i was aggressive and had a plan"

in canon, adrien dated kagami, but still obviously had feelings for ladybug. he did, however, like kagami a lot, and so he might've wished that he could forget his feelings for ladybug, especially knowing she can't reciprocate and he had an amazing girl right in front of him. he wants a plan to get out of feeling for her and for feeling for kagami.

in the chorus, we get:

"i'm cravin', a getaway from the smooth talk, that's keeping me grounded to the, carpet in my room my quiet blue tomb of you"

as chat, adrien can't resist flirting with ladybug because that's the friendship they've established with themselves, and ladybug is always smoothly replying back to him with jokes of her own. her banter, as much as he loves it and values it, keeps him thinking about her when he's alone in his room instead of thinking about kagami. his love for ladybug shouldn't be - she can't love him back and he is in a relationship with someone else - and so his bedroom where his innermost desires come to light becomes a guilty sort of place.

territory

territory is so ladynoir it hurts. in the intro we get the lines:

"i wear my game face in your headspace where it's storming at least most days we are both like that we are both the same"

which translates to ladybug and chat meeting, at most points in time, in order to fight akumas - hence, they always have to have their "game faces" on. ladybug's headspace is "storming" most days because of her stress with being the guardian and fighting akumas - and they find solace in each other's company because they're both teenagers burdened with way more than they should be.

the bridge gives us:

"i'm gonna hunt you down cause i'm a handful i'm gonna freak you out but it's all substantial so bring me bad news anything you have to just to keep me on my toes"

which is how chat views the way he tells his feelings to ladybug; he knows she'll probably "bring him bad news" by rejecting him, but he wants to continue being around her in her territory - he wants to be her friend, and he also wants to keep loving her.

pink

pink can also be a song about adrien loving ladybug, especially with the chorus lyric of "you're one of my favorite few" which is just. SO sweet and romantic but anyway. in the pre-chorus we get the lines:

"i'll watch you from my telescope; my eyes stuck to my favorite show i barely get more than a glimpse but it's better than nothing, yeah, i know"

which is like. adrien doesn't really get to see ladybug often, at least not in a relaxed setting like he really wants to. he feels far away from her, but when he does get the chance to be near her, he tries to absorb as much from the interaction as he can, throwing out dumb puns, flirting, and generally trying to get to know her in between akuma fights. it's not the ideal way he'd choose to spend time with her, but it's better than nothing.

no capes

no capes is another song about adrien wanting to be different that what he should be (with lines like "the anything slash everything that i should be / but i don't want to be like that") but this one takes a more somber and scared tone, which could relate to the fears he feels as chat noir.

the pre-chorus is literally just the line "no one will ever love us the way that i do." for adrien, being chat noir is so important to him, considering his home life, and he knows ladybug likes him, but she doesn't love him. he loves their partnership, he loves her - he fears he'll be in a position where he's wanting this (being a superhero, being friends) more than she does.

in the bridge, we get the lines:

"i hope you watch me through the letdown 'cause no one will be here, be here forever"

which could translate to any anxieties he feels about what happens after they achieve their goal of defeating hawkmoth. adrien has a lot of issues - issues about adults in his life disappearing/dying or emotionally leaving him behind - and he doesn't want ladybug to be another person to leave him behind after everything is over. he wants to still be able to be friends with her, maybe even learn her true name. but he fears that won't happen.

5. double dare

with double dare, we've breached album territory: double dare was waterparks' first official album, and it started branching into more polished, pop-leaning songs. the main themes of this album are: being tired and frustrated with something that you should like and loving someone who may not love you back

5/13 songs on this album can be considered adrien songs

stupid for you

stupid for you is ladynoir. it's ladynoir so hard. i mean, we have lines like:

"you're yellow, i'm natural blue let's get together and be green like my insides"

which. okay i know adrien is generally seen as the yellow golden boy and he is! but like, looking at him in comparison to marinette/ladybug and actual color theory, he's more of a natural blue. he's more likely to fall victim to negative thoughts than marinette is; she's generally more positive, more 'yellow.' (also, when you consider that their character design colors are each other's colors when inversed, this also makes sense - adrien is 'blue' beneath his appearance and marinette is 'yellow') and the "let's get together and be green like my insides" relates because green is a chat noir color. he wants them, in their 'yellow' and 'blue' contrasting moods to get together and be green, like chat noir, who is generally silly and joking around. he wants them to be able to be silly together.

in the chorus, we get:

"hey, tell me what you want me to say you know i'm stupid for you hey, can you come and come out and play? you know i'm stupid for you"

which is like how he is after he's been rejected; he doesn't know what to say after she tries to get him to stop flirting. he wants her to give him blueprints of how to act so that she'll like him (i.e. what color rose he gives her), but he still wants to be around her and and joke around with her.

in the bridge, we get:

"Just double dare me And I promise now that I'll stay It's not like you're married but I still got carried away"

which further develops his insecurities in regards on how to interact with her - he knows she didn't like when he confessed to her, that it made her feel guilty and a little upset because she couldn't return her feelings, and he got carried away with his over-the-top methods. but if she were to ask him to stay with her, in any sense of the word, he would do it in a heartbeat.

in the second chorus, we get:

"you're playing ring around my head i wear you like a halo you're a symphony, i'm just a sour note i'll take what i can get the best is hard to grip when everybody wants you and everybody wants you"

which conveys how ladybug is always on his mind ("you're playing ring around my head") but he likes this fact - or at the very least he doesn't mind it ("i wear you like a halo"). he sees her as someone who is so good and so out of reach for him ("you're a symphony, i'm just a sour note") but he still wants to be around her as much as he can. he'll take what he can get in terms of her time and attention, because he knows how the entire city is vying for her attention - she's the face of paris and she's the guardian and she has her own life to attend to - he thinks that maybe to her, he's just another person in her life who wants her.

royal

royal is only kind of an adrien song with lines like "i'm two faced from your double exposure" about his conflicting personas between what his father wants from him and what he himself wants to be, and this is especially poignant because of the "double exposure" metaphor, like the cameras adrien is behind for his modelling jobs are what make him "two faced"

royal is also about working so hard but not knowing if the pay off is worth it, which also relates to adrien's job with his father.

take her to the moon

take her to the moon is a "adrien loving ladybug song" with lines such as:

"i wanna make my way into your kiss i wanna live inside your mind next to your favorite songs i won't slow my pace until your walkway i wanna lose my mood inside a late night phone call with you"

which such a sweet lovesick yearning idea that adrien has 100% thought about ladybug before. i rest my case

powerless

powerless is a ladynoir song. in the first verse we get:

"you know i'd make the time i'm just waiting on your green light yeah, i'll be at your porch by this time tomorrow 'cause i'm almost not fine, but i'd never let you know"

which is like. adrien is SO down to be anything ladybug needs - he has almost no time at all what with his father's schedule, but he will always make time for ladybug. he's literally just waiting for her to call, and he'll be there. but in terms of actually letting her know how important she is to him in his life, as both a friend and as someone he loves romantically, he can never tell her because he doesn't really want to worry her.

in the chorus we get:

"you're the only one that makes me powerless tonight all i am is losing track of time tell me why oh, oh you never really missed me back"

which leads us into the bridge:

"i want you to need me like i need you i need you to see me when I'm see-through it's sad but it's true: no one's waiting for you but i was thinking we could get away sometime yeah, let's call it a date and you can devastate my personal space i never liked it anyway"

and that tells us how strong his feelings are for her; they're so powerful that he's effectively powerless against her. but he feels as though he's the only one that feels that way - she never seems to miss him back. but he wants her to want him in the same way he wants her - he wants her to be able to see him, in all his details, and still like him. and he wants her to go on a date with him and actually get close to him - get up his personal space because with her, he doesn't actually want personal space.

i'll always be around

i'll always be around is guess what!!! another ladynoir song!!! the chorus gives us:

"you know i'll always be around i'd never never never leave you hanging out to dry because the world's gonna pass me by but if you wanted, i'd never never never leave your leave your side i'd never never never leave you out to dry i'd never never never get you off my mind"

which is so!!! relates to the previously mentioned ideas of adrien being willing to drop everything to do what ladybug asked. he's devoted and loyal to her - he always wants to be someone that she can rely on as both a friend and a partner, and, potentially, as a lover.

we also get the line:

"you stopped me in my tracks you caught me in a gaze"

which relates to the moment he fell in love with her when she stood up to hawkmoth in front of all of paris: in that single moment she'd caught him up into having feelings for her, even if she didn't know it.

and in the bridge we get:

"if there ever came a dark day (if there ever came a dark day) that crushed us out and took you away i'd chase you to the end i'd chase you to the end of the world"

which is so. so ladynoir. their relationship and friendship is constantly haunted by the threat of hawkmoth, and so this consideration of the terrible "what ifs" and the insistence that no matter what, he'd find a way to get back to her is like. yeah that's ladynoir.

6. entertainment

entertainment is the second album, and it continues leaning into the pop-alternative sound while still somehow sticking to the punk sound. the main themes of this album are: loving someone, loving someone who hurts you and isn't good for you, and feeling trapped in your circumstances

4/10 songs on this album can be considered adrien songs

11:11

this song is so!!!! adrien loving marinette core!!!!!! i actually wrote a fic that had one of the lyrics of this song as a title (my favorite set of stairs is the one up to your room)

the pre-chorus actually gives us this line here:

"my favorite set of stairs is the one up to your room and my heavy set of cares evaporates all around you evil comes in pairs and we like what we do you've got me feeling like a walking love song"

which just makes me think of the way adrien will be after the identity reveal happens. he already wants marinette to be ladybug (based off the sheer amount of times he's referred to her as 'the everyday ladybug' + every time he's gotten so close to discovering ladybug's identity and his brain has always gone, without fail, to marinette), and so when he realizes that she is ladybug, she'll quickly become the person he most wants to be around and the person he feels most comfortable around. because of how dismal his home life is, he'll probably spend a lot of time at her house, and he'll come to associate the stairs of her room with walking into love and comfort. he'll be absolutely smitten with her.

in the chorus, we get:

"i must've caught you from 11:11 the lucky number seven i try to hide with my words but you just find me clever i found a million places you'd be worth the chases to go-oh-oh"

which again just inscribes how strongly he would feel for marinette - and it's also kind of a pun because of how "lucky" he would be to have her. like. get it. lucky charm. anyway, his "hiding with his words" would refer to the way he disguises his feelings with humor, but she would be able to see past that - they would know each other so well. and, just like how i've said adrien is with ladybug, he would totally be willing to go anywhere and everywhere for marinette. this song is post-reveal adrinettecore.

lucky people

guess what fellas we have another song about adrien loving ladybug/marinette. after looking closely, it seems like we might have a post-reveal relationship sort of vibe here, but it doesn't really matter because bare bones? this song is about adrien loving ladybug who is also marinette.

we start with the verse:

"light us up until we pop i wanna burn bright 'til we're not let's keep each other safe from the world i'll be your optimistic black hole full of love i can't control let's keep each other safe from the world from the world"

which falls into the previously-discussed themes of adrien wanting to be around ladybug as much as he possibly can before they defeat hawkmoth and inevitable Something Different happens, and he also wants the both of them to stick together. the "i'll be your optimistic black hole / full of love i can't control" also relates to previously-discussed adrien themes where we know adrien is actually someone who is prone to negative thoughts, but he comes off as someone who is really optimistic, and also that he loves ladybug something fierce - it's a love that he knows has already scared her, but it's also a love that he feel like he can't help but feel.

in the chorus, we get:

"i know you said to mind my business but cupid sent me on a mission that's got me sitting, wishing, waiting for your call"

which plays into adrien's romantic nature conflicting with ladybug wanting to keep their feelings out of superhero work. regardless, because of his romantic nature, he will always be sitting and waiting for her to call him so that they can be together, even if it's just to fight akumas.

we also have the line:

"you've got me more than clumsy but you're my yellow, lovely"

which (SEASON 4 SPOILERS) after mr. pigeon 72 is like. adrien literally was so busy looking at marinette that he bumped his head against a car door. but he won't even mind!! because marinette/ladybug is a spot of brightness in his world that he absolutely adores.

rare

i am once again telling you that this song is about adrien loving ladybug. hear me out. i'm right. in the chorus we get:

"i just hope it's nicer where you are 'cause i only want to lift you up i guess i never really said enough for you to hear me where you are 'cause i only want to lift you up i guess i never really said enough so let me tell you now"

this is adrien hoping that, wherever and whoever ladybug is, she's living happily - at least more happily than him. he only wants to lift her up and support her, not only because he loves her, but also because he values her as a friend. but he feels like she doesn't know how much she truly cares about him - he feels like she brushes off when he tells her he loves her, so he wants to say it loud enough for her to truly understand.

and in the other half of the chorus, we get:

"my tired thoughts don't take vacations, oh no you float up in conversations, oh no you're my final destination, i know you're probably fine there just know i think you're rare"

which is where he tells her how he truly feels; he's always thinking about her, and when she comes up in conversation (which she does, she's ladybug after all), he feels some stress because he has all these feelings for her that his civilian self isn't supposed to have. and yet he feels like she's it for him - he loves her so much and can't imagine loving anyone else. she's his "final destination." and he thinks that she is so good and powerful and beautiful that she's rare in comparison to the rest of the world - which tells her how happy he is to have found her. (and, thinking about this line as if he's speaking to ladybug, it's funny for him to say that he thinks she's rare but refer to marinette as "the everyday ladybug." which really just tells you how highly he thinks of marinette)

sleep alone

we're rounding out this album with, you guessed it, another song about adrien loving ladybug. like. "i feel dead and a half but you're making me laugh" ?? which relates to adrien being overworked by his father but meeting ladybug in his spare time and managing to feel truly light hearted around her??

in the chorus we get:

"my face feels hot and blue my hands still count on you to let me down articulate and lonely enough for the two of us but if you want, if you want, if you want to you can call me on my phone, i'll run to you you won't ever have to sleep alone you can call me on my phone, i'll come to you you won't ever have to sleep, sleep, sleep alone"

which hints at how adrien knows that ladybug will continue to turn him down, but he can't deny his feelings for her ("my hands still count on you to let me down"). and he's lonely - isolated by his father - which he feels like he has enough to loneliness to cover the both of them, which is why he proposes that they stay together; he'll take on her loneliness, too. and, just like in all the adrien-loves-ladybug songs, we see that he is only a single call away from doing anything ladybug asks him too.

we also get the line "but if you want it you can have it, you can have me in full" which tells us that he respects her wishes to keep their identities a secret, and he understands that she doesn't have romantic feelings for him, but if she ever changed her mind - about either thing - all she would have to do is ask, and she would have him, entirely.

7. fandom

fandom is the third album, and it leans into not only pop-alternative sounds, but also rap and almost r&b alternative sounds. the main themes of this album are: wanting to be able to express yourself in the way you want, feeling separated from someone you love, and getting out of a bad relationship

7/15 songs on this album can be considered adrien songs

cherry red

starting off strong with the album's opener (which also starts with the ending music of the last song on the album which is- okay. this album's art. continuing on) which is - i'm thinking you're sensing the pattern - at least partly about adrien loving ladybug. cherry red is super short, and the only line that really applies is:

"cherry red you know i'd die for you"

which. cherry red refers to ladybug because of, you know, cherry red suit, etc. and the "you know i'd die for you" is. well. adrien has made it very clear that he will go out of his way during akuma fights to protect ladybug. it's not exactly dying, but it's close enough.

dream boy

dream boy is!!!!!!!! dream boy is THE adrien song!!!!! dream boy was the song that made me mold au adrien's band after waterparks, dream boy is the song that semi-inspired this post, dream boy is the reason i project adrien onto so much of waterparks' discography.

dream boy sounds a lot like a love song. but dream boy is, at it's core, a commentary on the way that media and fanbases treat conventionally attractive boys in the spotlight, and it's a commentary in the form of a bright, bubbly pop song. it's brilliant. it's adrien

the chorus, which is also the intro gives us:

"am i the boy you dreamed of? oh living in your subconscious, oh do you believe in love? oh and is it because of me?"

which is like. from the very start of this song, we get the idea that adrien (since we're supplementing the speaker as adrien, you get it) exists only as a the dream of a boy his fans have of the perfect boy. they believe in love because they love him, but they don't love the real him, they love the 'adrien' that they've constructed in their minds

in the verse, we get:

"build your expectations saturated and inflated 'cause i was born to be your favorite make me complicated i'm modern and i'm dated because i was born to be your favorite"

which builds on the manufactured feeling of adrien agreste. his public persona as a model was built by gabriel to make money - he was literally constructed as a teenage heartthrob "born to be your favorite" so that his father could profit.

and in the pre-chorus, we get:

"build-a-boy, pick my pieces overjoyed‚ never leave your heart destroyed, i'm your boy custom-made your beloved getaway i'm your favorite holiday you'll never be alone with me"

which is like. adrien is constantly rebuilding himself to fit the ideals other people want from him, and other people are constantly rebuilding him in their minds to fit the ideals they have for him. he isn't his own person - he's always belonged to other people, custom-made, depending on their preferences, to be the most likable he could possibly be.

high definition

high definition falls into the category of "songs about adrien loving ladybug while trying to be in a relationship with kagami." in my mind, i hear adrien in this song talking to two separate 'you's - both kagami and ladybug.

when the song starts, giving us the chorus we get:

"i'd love to be in love with you enough to write a love song, mmh i need to feel needed and i need it more than i let on"

which is adrien speaking to kagami. he wants to love her because he knows she deserves it and she's an amazing girl, but he can't. but he still needs that affection she gives him because he's lacking it in other parts of his life.

in the second half of the chorus, we get:

"i'll be home just thinking about it, maybe call like i used to but i'll just stay alone because alone is safer than with you"

which, in my head, is where he transitions to talking to ladybug. he still thinks about her and he wants to be with her, but he recognizes that those wants aren't responsible while in a relationship with someone else.

in a verse, we get:

"i know i'm not around enough to make me worth the wait it's like who wants to be close with someone who always goes away? and even when they're here it's like where's your fucking head at? why's it take so long to text back? you're so bad at loving people back"

which is where we see his relationship with kagami devolve. (SEASON 4 SPOILERS) i mean, this is almost literally why kagami breaks up with him; he's always running off for seemingly no reason, and even when he was around, he was emotionally distant because of his feelings for ladybug.

telephone

telephone is a HUGE ladynoir song. this is a song about how much chat wants to be able to get to know ladybug, which gives us lines like:

"i'd like to know your middle name let's talk about your parents and your future dreams i'm interested but distant to a fault and i'd never want to complicate your heart"

which is just like!! he wants to know all the little information about her like her middle name and her parents, but he also wants to talk about her and her dreams. he wants to know her, outside of the mask, but he knows that's not something she wants, so he tries to keep these wants tamped down.

the second verse gives us:

"i talk a lot, but we could fill your frames with pictures of our faces 'til we share a name i'm living on a target and you shot it with an arrow now i lost my self-control, i can't stop thinking and i'm thinking that i lost it all these aisles feel like miles where you go, i'll follow"

which, again, expresses his desire to be with her in her civilian life, even fantasies about marrying her. he is so stupidly in love with her - and, as i've talked about before, he is absolutely devoted to her. wherever she goes, he'll follow.

never bloom again

never bloom again is a little too sad for my to comfortably label it a ladynoir song but this line:

"now all the girls in los angeles look like you from a distance i tried to give you space until i stepped away from your brain and now i just miss it"

is very adrien-loving-ladybug-esque. replace 'los angeles' with 'paris' and you get adrien trying to find ladybug's features in every girl he meets while still trying to give ladybug space on their secret identities.

[reboot]

[reboot] isn't a really an adrien song, but it does reference dream boy, which is worth mentioning. in the chorus, we get the line:

"i never promised you your dream boy i'm better as your chew toy"

which could be like adrien's actual thoughts on his placement as paris' and his father's manufactured dream boy persona. he's not actually everyone's dream boy, he's just a toy for them to use a destroy.

zone out

zone out is a huge adrien song because it is literally just dream boy. zone out acts as a break before the last song in the album, and it is the lyrics to dream boy set to a softer, more lullaby-esque tempo and instrumental sound. it's a lot sadder than the normal dream boy, and you can really feel the fact here that dream boy is not a love song.

with zone out, we have adrien's actual quiet, sad feelings about dream boy. he wants to fill the dream boy role for his father, but he can't, really, because he can never live up to that level of perfection. he will always fall short.

8. greatest hits

and with that we have reached the most recent waterparks album. this album plays with experimental genre sounds even more so than the previous two, but is still unmistakably the "waterparks" sound. the themes of this album are: strange dreams and nightmares, struggling with being in the spotlight, and wanting to feel loved

7/17 songs on this album can be considered adrien songs

lowkey as hell

lowkey as hell isn't overtly an adrien song but the chorus plays on the common themes we've seen before:

"if you need me now i'll be there somehow i'll pick you up, we can ride i'll fly away like i bought my own airline i'll take you with me, we can ride"

which is basically that adrien will always be around to do anything ladybug needs - if she ever has the need to call to him, he'll always find a way to be there for her.

violet!

i won't go too in depth about it, but violet! is about a stalker and their victim, who is the speaker, and you cannot tell me adrien does not have any stalkers at all with the way the show portrays his fame. he's probably had to deal with his fair share of crazy fans, so i thought i'd mention violet! here.

snow globe

also not an overtly adrien song, but we get these lines in one of the verses:

"’cause all i hear is 'i love you so much' but it starts to mean nothing when my heart is shut from you my heart is shut from you my little tiny world is in your hands so shake it like a snow globe fuck my plans"

which talks about how the love adrien experiences as a famous model isn't the kind of love he wants - he wants feel loved by his father. but gabriel just uses him for the company - he holds adrien's tiny world in his hands, and uses that grasp to shake up adrien's world and disrupt the relationships adrien has with the outside world.

the secret life of me

this song is about fantasizing about running away to a new life, or to a secret life away from responsibilities, so like. adrien about how he's chat noir.

in the chorus, we get:

"sunbathe looking like a sunday wishing for a someday i could run away like that now i think i need a life or maybe 9 'cause i feel like i’m running out of time, yea

which plays on the ideas of running away. it's really fitting, i think, because of the reference to wanting 9 lives, which is definitely a pun adrien would make as chat noir

american graffiti

this is another song about struggling with being in the spotlight, which relates to adrien. in the chorus, we get:

"yeah, you've been reading all about me and you're loving what you found i'm like american graffiti you want some glitter, drink it down yeah, you've been seeing all about me taking notes, yeah, write it down i'm like american graffiti if you need me, i'm here now if you need me, i'm here now"

which relates to the themes brought up during dream boy: we have this circumstance of people finding adrien, learning all there is to possibly know about him, and deciding that they love this version of him they see in the media. the "if you need me, i'm here now" also refers to the dream boy theme because of how this version of adrien that exists in most people's heads will always be there to comfort them and "love" them in a parasocial relationship.

fruit roll ups

fruit roll ups is yet another adrien-loving-ladybug song in which he talks about wanting to invite her over so they can watch movies together and also how much he feels for her.

in the first verse, we get the lines:

"when you talk it's in cursive to me and it's nicer than anything i'd believe about me it's like that shit was written in gel pen and i love those"

which is not. super important but it's cute! also the line "and it's nicer than anything i'd believe about me" also might refer to the way ladybug reassures him of his placement as a hero and a friend in her life, which are things he continually finds hard to believe. so it's also sad!

crying over it all

speaking of sad this last song is another adrien-loving-ladybug song and it is. sad.

the pre-chorus is:

"so practice your passion on me give me your 100 degrees i'll die off whenever you need an afternoon just to breathe soon everyone will be gone they'll forget my albums, i hope you'll be here when it's done and i'm crying over it all, yeah"

first of all. i go insane every time i hear the line "so practice your passion on me." now that we've gotten that out of the way let's continue on. we have the line "I'll die off whenever you need" which refers to chat's tendency to sacrifice himself for ladybug during akuma fights, and these lines also express that familiar desire he has of wanting ladybug to stay beside him after the events of whatever will happen next actually happen.

and in the chorus, we have:

"and all i think about is where you might be and when i'm swallowed down i'd say it's for you, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh, oh i'd say it's for you, yeah, yeah, yeah"

which refers to how adrien wonders about ladybug when they're apart - he wants to know about her and how she spends her free time, but he can't know these things, not yet. and the line "and when i'm swallowed down / i'd say it's for you" would refer metaphorically (maybe sometimes literally) to the things he does during akuma fights for her to make sure they succeed.

and in another verse, we get:

"cherry red's your touch a touch i'm failing to feel, or feel enough to love you safely “who?”, “what?”, “when?”, and “why?” all drive me crazy please make me sane for you"

again using the phrase "cherry red" to refer to ladybug, her touch something that adrien can't feel enough of because their relationship is strictly platonic, but he wants more. he wants to know the 'who, what, when, where, and why's of her life, but he can't, and it drives him a little crazy. in contrast to being "stupid for her" back in double dare, he wants to be "made sane for her" so that he can have some feeling of peace in their relationship after getting rejected.

9. conclusion

the biggest conclusion we have here is that im insane. the second biggest conclusion we have here is that i have the amazing ability to project adrien onto a very large portion of waterparks' discography, and i'm right in doing so. an equally important takeaway is that adrien needs a hug and also that he loves ladybug. thank you for your time

[thevictorianghost]

A look back at 2020 - and a thank you to the Zutara fandom

Okay.

So.

I’ve never done this before. I know 2020 has been… a year. To say the least. A messy, sad, hell of a year. I’m not saying my 2020 was perfect. There were many events that were supposed to happen but got cancelled because of COVID. But if you could believe it, 2019 was so much worse for me, especially creative-wise. So I decided to make this post about how my 2020 went, because it went a lot better than 2019!

Never again, 2019. Never again.

Also if you feel like you haven’t been creative or haven’t had the energy to do everything you wanted to do, please don’t take this post as a “haha I did so much better than you guys!” Because that is ABSOLUTELY NOT what I want to achieve. I just want to give myself a pat on the back. Honestly, I think what really helped this year was when I got into a slump for one type of creative endeavour, I jumped to the next. I set myself to start something and finished it. Then, if I felt burnt out about that thing? Like writing a fic? I got into cosplay. Or video editing. Or something else. And then I came back to writing. It was really fun to learn new things and to do multiple kinds of projects through the year!

The Zutara fandom thank you letter is at the end, so if you want to skip my ramblings, you can find the title below! 

So anyway. Here goes!

Video editing:

It’s not that well-known on my Tumblr, but I have a Youtube channel! I made myself a video editing challenge back in January - and I crushed it! Back in 2019, I quit video editing for many months because I didn’t have the motivation to continue doing so. But then in December last year, I found a BUNCH of my old (and I mean, VERY old) videos I’d made as a kid. And it re-invigorated my love for video editing because I realized how far I’d come and that I wanted to do it more! So I told myself: one video a month. Twelve in one year. That’s it. Do that. And I ended up making TWENTY videos this year! I’m so proud of myself!

I even made MORE than twenty videos. A few of these just aren’t published. I made a few more “educational” videos because I’m considering making a brand new Youtube channel dedicated to History and pop culture! I don’t know if it’ll end up being… you know… a thing, but hey! Why not?

I also made some unpublished short edits for a possible Instagram account I’d like to create, too! All for Titanic. An example of those short videos can be found here! Again, I don’t know if that Instagram account will end up being… a thing… but I have faith!

Cosplay:

I got back into cosplay this year! And I learned new skills thanks to it! I learned how to work with EVA foam to create my own Blue Spirit mask (using this tutorial!). There’s a few projects currently on the backburner, but I’m sure I’ll come back to them eventually!

I also learned recently how to sew a pair of opera gloves (because haha, fuck you if you want to buy any that aren’t in size small!) for a Rose Dewitt-Bukater cosplay with my sewing machine I bought way back in like… March… but was honestly too afraid to use. But I did it! I pushed through my fear and I did it! I’ve been practicing more and more with my sewing machine as I repurpose old clothes for my cosplay. And it’s going great!

Writing:

I got back into fanfic! I hadn’t written ANYTHING fanfic related in a while, especially not multi-chapter fics. But this year, I finished THREE novel-length fanfictions. My fanfics The Prince’s Bride, my Star Wars/The Princess Bride AU, and Never Let Me Go, my Avatar: The Last Airbender/Titanic AU, are currently all published on AO3! I haven’t been much in the Star Wars fandom since writing The Prince’s Bride, but I did meet @stressedinadress with who I talk about Star Wars and anything in particular! Thank you for being my friend!

My other novel-length fic, All roads lead to Paris, a Miraculous Ladybug/A Monster in Paris/Ratatouille crossover fic is currently being uploaded every Wednesdays! I’ve also written a Titanic/The Great Gatsby crossover one-shot called Make it count; Meet me at the clock that had been living in my brain for years but I’d never had the guts to write it. But then I did!

I’m especially proud of Never Let Me Go. Not that I’m not proud of my other fics, but this one in particular has a very special place in my heart. It’s the longest story I’ve EVER written and made me love Titanic all over again. Zuko and Katara were the perfect characters to be cast as Jack and Rose. I got back into drawing entirely thanks to this fic. I’d been telling myself “I can’t draw to save my life” for YEARS but then I decided to try again and I’m much better than I was back then! I’m so humbled by all the comments, all the bookmarks, the kudos and the love this story has received. We’ve JUST REACHED 5000 HITS!! Before the end of the year!! That’s so AWESOME!!

I’m tentatively coming back to original fiction after writing a lot of fanfic, especially a Greek Mythology retelling (which is, you know, fanfiction but with stories that don’t have copyrights!). I think writing fanfiction really helped me figure out what I love about writing and has helped me tremendously in creating my own style and voice. It’s been an incredible journey and yes, my Greek Mythology retelling was inspired by a Zutara Greek Mythology AU! So you know, I’m staying on-brand! haha

I’m also currently working on another ATLA fic, heavily inspired by my “what I would have wanted for LOK” post you can find here. It’s going to be much, MUCH shorter than Never Let Me Go, but it’s already longer than Not Like Everyone Else, so I’m really happy with this one. A bunch of bite-sized chapters in the POVs of all these lovely characters after the War and my take on where they should have ended up - and the world.

Zutara:

And finally, but certainly not the least, I got back into the Zutara fandom and really contributed! I made metas I’m really proud of (like this one on Katara’s abandonment issues you can find here!). I wrote the aforementioned fanfic Never Let Me Go. I even made a video about Zutara after my latest rewatch of ATLA (you can watch ZUTARA | Zuko x Katara - BATTLESHIPS here!).

I also made friends along the way! @darkcrowprincess​, @harharj​, @angelsabloom​ and, more recently, @heavensweetheart​. I wanted to thank you for putting up with my weird rants and obsessions! :)

We’re all such a lovely bunch and don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere! I want to thank, especially, @firelxdykatara​, @antarcticasx​, @my-bated-breath​, @peartarts​,  @pineapple-frenzy​ and @hayleynfoster​ for your metas, fics, art, etc.!  You’ve been making my 2020 better. This isn’t an exhaustive list, so if I’ve forgotten someone, I’m so sorry! 

Also I hope everyone who have been harassed recently, like @babytreehugger​, knows that we’re all standing behind you and supporting you.

This is a really special fandom indeed. It took me years before I could rewatch ATLA knowing Zutara wasn’t endgame, but even if it hurts that they’re not canon, we have countless fics, art, poems, animatics, even published authors whose books are basically Zutara AUs! As stated by those same authors! Isn’t that amazing?? WE HAVE A STAR!! WE HAVE A FRICKING STAR!!! Has anyone forgotten that??

And look. I’ve been, for the past few years, in the Star Wars fandom. I’ve been in many different fandoms over the years. It’s been… rough. But I’ve never seen such an encouraging, loving, compassionate fandom. I know it can be difficult outside of our fandom, especially with people fighting on Twitter and Instagram and even on Tumblr with people harassing others. But this fandom, fifteen years later, is so smart, so kind, so positive and so inspiring. 

If you’ve been reading up ‘till now, thank you! 

Also: You can do whatever you set your mind to! I believe in you! Go do the thing if you want to! And never forget to be kind to yourself. 

Happy holidays! Let’s hope (fingers crossed!) that 2021 will be a better year. 

thevictorianghost

[antihero-writings]

The Offspring of a Dream

Fandom: Bloodborne

Fic Summary: Why does the Doll call you “good”?

Notes: 

Obviously the lore in this game is very hidden and up for interpretation, so this fic in part has to do with my personal interpretation of things, so please keep that in mind! I know there's a theory about the Doll being a Great One/Avatar out there (haven't read up about it much through), but currently I find there's something rather beautiful about the Doll truly just being a doll, who is genuinely kind, and just trying to help us out, because the game has little to no other characters like that. I also know whether or not we are "good" is definitely up for great debate, but I'm the kind of person who likes to see/read redemption into everything, so this is just my rather optimistic interpretation of events.

Also, I don't necessarily ship the Hunter and the Doll, but I do think it's a cute ship and enjoy content for it...So you're free to interpret the internal monologue as platonic or romantic, whichever you prefer.

This is one of the only times I've used second person, so go easy on me...I chose second person because I didn't find third or first nearly as compelling for it.

I'd really really appreciate it if you could leave a comment!! They seriously do make my week, and give me the motivation to keep writing!!

I also have another Bloodborne fic about Vicar Amelia's transformation, I'd love it if you could check that out too!! Links in a reblog!!

The Offspring of a Dream: 

“New Hunter”

“Mister Hunter”

“Hunter”

“A Hunter!”

“Moon-Scented Hunter”

“Miss Hunter!”

“Good Hunter of the Church,

"have you seen the thread of light?”

“Welcome home,

Good Hunter.

What is it you desire?”—

No name.

Not a greeting, nor title.

No adjectives or addendums like ‘holy’ or ‘accursed,’ ‘beast,’ or ‘man.’ Not a crow, or a wolf, or an avenger, or a knight. Nor a roar of what you hunted.

A lonely hunter without a name, or a word.

Just a hunter, who may or may not be good.

And it was a doll, a doll who had a dreamer, but was equally lonely—

Is this all in my mind? Did I dream her up?

It was this Doll who said you were good, every time you arrived in the dream, always ready to turn your desires, the echoes of a scourge, into strength.

She said it faithfully, and it was not easy to recognize when she said it, it wasn’t a greeting, or a title.

It was a prayer.

Because she had watched a thousand “good hunters” walk through the dream, and a thousand fall. A thousand keep her company, a thousand ask for her to make them stronger with the echoes of their killing. A thousand become drunk with blood, trapped in a very different dream, that some might call nightmare. And a thousand become something other than a hunter…something other than good.

A thousand graves.

Graves for the ones who woke up.

So with a title she prayed to the moon that this one—this one—would be good.

That’s all she needed. That’s all any of them ever needed; one good man.

The title ‘hunter’ was meant to be synonymous with good. A force of holiness to purge the impurity. …But their name became equivalent with evil. Or maybe it was from the very start.

The spreading corruption burned.

Before the blood parched their lips and ravaged their bones. After. At the end of the day, we’re all human. At the end of the day, we’re all beasts.

Born of the blood… undone by the blood…

So she—inhuman, human—she prayed that one day there would be a hunter who could fight the monsters and not become one. That the blood wouldn’t burn and coil and wrap its tendrils around them, twist them inside out, and make them something more than just a “good hunter”…and so much less. She cast goodness over you, as if reminding you not to give in to the beast. Not to give in to your humanity. Reminding you that though you were a hunter, though you were drenched in blood, with heart full of holes, and brain full of eyes, you could still be good.

She put her hands together and she prayed. She prayed, and she helped you on your journey, she channeled death into strength, she whispered, and she tended to frail, living flowers, and feeble, dying, old men, and she cried.

Any god-fearing man, not burdened with an overabundance of naiveté, would know that dolls don’t whisper. They don’t ask if you love them. They don’t move. They can’t help. They don’t pray. And they definitely don’t cry.

Dolls sit lifeless on the floors of children’s nurseries, and the abandoned workshops of bitter, maniacal, old men.

Is this just a dream? Will I know you when I wake?

What’s waking worth without you?

If the gods don’t love me I still promise to love you.

You watched human hands twist into claws, skin into fur, faces into tentacles, tongues into snakes, and eyes into eyes, and wondered if perhaps this doll, with her porcelain skin and hair, with her tears and prayer, if she was more human than the rest. This doll—who asked about gods and love, who cared for you, who hoped even the worst hunters might be worth something in another, better world—was more human than the offspring of an old, forgotten town. More human than we, who are born and die by the blood.

How was she born, and how would she die? What caused her to breathe, to come alive? Was it just our minds, some ill-gotten, internal eyes? Was something so primitive as hope or love? Or was it the twisted will of some faceless moon without a man in it?

Is it just me?

Is it my mind?

Tell me she’s more than children’s toys, and old men’s dreams.

Tell me she’s real.

Could something made of metal and mechanics, and the puppet strings of our own minds die?

Do dreams die when we wake up?

Or, in the end when men are all either monsters or gods, would she stand in the wreckage, the only real, awake thing left…the only thing left that’s still human?

When men become gods, do our creations become human?

She watched them fall. She watched them reach for bare threads of guiding moonlight with human hands, and howl at the same moon with a wolf’s cry, and she still had enough hope left in her to call you “good hunter.” To believe that you would be different.

Did she say this to everyone? Did she hope every time? Or was it just you? And which meant more? If she hoped despite just how many had failed, or if she saw something different within you alone?

Here you stood, steeped in the blood of beasts. Ugly thing. Killer. Cold and merciless.

And she called you good.

Did that mean she saw the blood, and the murder, and thought it was good? Or that she looked past all that and saw the good still?

How could she, a doll, an echo herself, know what it meant to be good?

Perhaps she was made by someone who had seen a world with good left in it. Or a world which was evil, but in which there was someone like her, who encompassed all the good in the world to him.

Perhaps that’s what she was to you too. The good. The human left. Without her you may never keep fighting. You had no one else, after all. Your friends were either mad, or intoxicated, or destined to die, or destined for…worse.

Is she just a trick of the moonlight?

She was the embodiment of hope.

You tried to be good. For her. For the world. They all did. But most became drunk on blood, or knowledge, and lost themselves along the way.

What is it you desire?

It always starts good. Goals, on paper, always seem so noble. In practice, so bloodthirsty.

Laurence made a church. A force of holiness and healing. And he turned the city into a madhouse, a cage for monsters.

Wilhelm made a school. A place of mindfulness and learning. And he dabbled in rituals to hide the moon.

The old hunters thought stealing a child wouldn’t incite the wrath of its mother.

They all thought the world could be saved, that the plague could end through quarantine or amputation.

When they cut off the diseased heads the blood only spread. When they stayed in their houses they went insane instead.

The world needed more than a simple fix to return to being “good.”

The hunters thought they were fighting for a noble cause. They thought they were all good…and they turned into the very beasts they fought, awaiting another hunter to spill their blood, and start the cycle again.

The hunters only did what they could; keep killing. That was all they knew to do to get rid of the the beasts in this brick forest.

They needed a hunter who would break the cycle. Do more than just kill and give in to the call of the blood. Who would seek the paleblood, and end this dreadful night.

Transcend the hunt.

But how to eclipse the chase when evolution without courage is the name of ruin?

A hunter who would look beyond today’s night, today’s hunt, today’s beasts. Beyond the blood. Resist its seduction. A hunter who could learn where all this started, find it. And do what hunters do best:

Kill it.

—(For sometimes death is freedom, at least when it’s a dream)—

Seek the paleblood. Hunt the great ones.

—(And sometimes waking up is far worse.)

The formless blood wanted to have a child. Perhaps he thought he was giving those he chose a gift of a sort. Only horror followed.

Every great one loses its child.

One particular woman, long ago, held the name of this broken town. Perhaps it was only fitting that the child of blood and name was born in voice alone.

This child’s formless cries echoed through more than the nightmare; through the waking world—(if you had enough eyes, at least)—calling you to comfort it, to silence it.

Could everyone in the town hear it? Is that what drove them mad? Listening to a child’s endless cries, with no hope of comforting it?

Many had tried to contact it. Some tried to become gods…and misplaced their minds in the process. But you found it. Knowing it was not to be exalted, but destroyed.

You were a hunter after all.

So you killed the only thing keeping it alive, the thing desperately trying to play a lullaby and sing it to sleep.

You yourself played a tiny music box for it, from the beginning of it all—that belonged to a family ravaged by the blood, the hunt, which held a song about love and loss—just to hear it laugh, before the nightmare let out it last.

Cords of thirds. Cords of three.

One from the child of voice. One from the child of night. One from the child stolen long ago, sitting in an old, abandoned workshop.

A workshop alive now only in hunters’ dreams.

You could have left your own nightmare long ago. You could have woken from this dream and believed the world was not so dark, not so strange, not so fascinating.

But this wasn’t the only nightmare you had to liberate.

There was another, another for which all not-so-good hunters were destined—(and thus you too if the Doll’s prayers were in vain). They sent you there with a piece of a drunken man before you yourself became, inevitably, intoxicated, in this bloody bar, so that you could, perhaps navigate sleeping minds with your sanity in tact.

We, the offspring of an old, forgotten secret. Destined and bound by the chase.

So our forefathers sinned?

Ludwig thought he was holy, fighting for a noble cause, and he stood, accursed, in a bath of the blood he spilled, trampling the ghosts of those he killed.

Is it possible there exist moonlight in even the darkest nights?

When we reach for the thread of light, none of us ever want to know what it truly is. Hope can be so vicious that way.

The church turned their eyes from their hands.

All too often, when men try to become gods—or something akin—they become monsters. There's a reason the moon is out of our reach.

Laurence thought the blood would heal. That the gods wouldn’t mind a little thievery. He thought they could keep their humanity in tact, as long as they prayed hard enough.

And he watched the world burn. Watched his hope turn his universe into a waking, walking nightmare. And he burned in his own broken Neverland, ever searching for his own lost, rotted humanity.

Maria, beloved apprentice Maria—

…Is that you, my dear Doll?

Who was there from the beginning. Who vowed to forsake the blood—including her own. Maria, so sickened by her actions, who threw the hunt down a well. Who vowed to in death to be the hunt’s secret keeper, and sat, alone, a lonely princess at the top of the clock tower, alive by the puppet strings of a nightmare—

She sacrificed herself, her values, to purge you from the plague of wild curiosity.

A corpse should be left well enough alone.

And at last, behind time, was a quaint, sad, little village, that lay dripping with secrets, ransacked for its eyes.

A quaint little village where it all started. Where the sky wept, and sun collapsed in on itself, and the great lake held too soft and depraved a secret.

Every great one loses its child…but this one lost his mother.

A quaint little village where a sympathetic mother fell from the stars. Where her child was ripped from her, dissected for parts, by the very people you once thought were good.

The wrath of an angry god is to be feared. But the wrath of a sympathetic god is far worse.

And the wrath of a mother is a lasting curse.

Death is freedom, at least in a dream. But when waking up is far worse, we rewrite the past within our dreams.

This was an orphans dream, pulling the hunt into a nightmare, as he waited to be freed from reality, as he waited for a hunter to rewrite the sins of their ancestors.

As he waited for a good man.

And the spirit thanked you. And the hunt thanked you.

And the Doll thanked you, for a shackle she never even knew was there had been lifted. She thanked you on behalf of the first hunter, for he slept a little sounder.

But there was one last dream that needed slaying:

Your own.

You could have woken long ago. You could have forsaken it all for the sunrise, and left someone else to find the answers, left someone else to be good.

It would have been nice to believe the world made sense.

It would have been nice to believe the dark side of the moon wasn’t made of blood and bones, haunting a poor, old man.

Few dreams offer you the choice to die before the bad part starts—(or perhaps simply to put an end to all the ‘bad parts’ you’ve gone through, to negate the possibility of more). But you would not bow to a happy, false reality.

Neither would you allow yourself to be taken captive by the nameless presence of the moon, made to perpetuate this hunt endlessly.

You understood the word “hunter” was never synonymous with good. They lost that title before the hunt even started. They lost that title when a little orphan was stolen from his mother.

You understood at last. It was her. Maria. The one who threw her weapon down the well in protest. She—(or at least, a version of her)—stood by your side, trying to guide you back all this time. Trying to guide you back to the beginning, where perhaps her sins could be atoned for. Where perhaps there could be good still.

So in a lonely field full of flowers, it was not you who were released from the dream.

You had enough eyes to see and slay the presence of the moon, who had orchestrated this all.

We’re all just puppets of the moon.

…But a cord of three strands is not so easily broken.

So in the end you neither woke nor dreamed, but saw the world as it was—though through newborn eyes. A child of the hunt. A child of the dream. Not destined to create a nightmare…but perhaps a better reality.

When the Doll picked up your small body, she smiled at last. She knew you’d succeeded, for this was unlike any hunter’s death, or transformation, she knew. She knew you’d atoned for the sins of your predecessors. She knew you’d freed the children, the nightmares, and the men.

And she called you “good hunter” still. For she knew the gods listened to her prayers after all. She knew that though you were a hunter no more—

You were certainly good.