#creating happiness by making silly low effort posts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

decamarks · 2 years

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I know people have stated many times before that Tumblr's presence as a social media site is distinct from others due to its sense of community—and this brand identity is definitely being encouraged by the site's staff/marketing team—but it genuinely does make me happy, and it makes the site itself feel worthwhile and worth caring about. I'm always intrigued by the little changes being made, regardless of if they're good or bad; it's not like other sites where every update is nigh incomprehensible to its users, and generally followed with nothing more than a sigh and a "Oh god what is it this time". I'm genuinely interested in the mechanics of all these new updates: what they serve to improve, the purpose behind their implementation, etc. That or I'm saying "Oh god what is it this time" with a bewildered, morbid sort of glee, which is equally good.

This interest is encouraged by staff blogs like changes and wip, and that's just a fun kind of relationship to have to a website. Rather than silently accepting whatever new nonsense a corporation has decided to do to their site (presumably in the interest of exploiting their users in terms of time & money), Tumblr's sense of community tends to encourage exploration of what exactly it is being changed—critically, analytically; it doesn't go unnoticed. And 'critical' and 'analytical' are two adjectives you don't find most other social media platforms encouraging in their user populace, LMAO.

It helps to see the silver linings in these types of things. The frequency at which features are added, removed, altered, broken or bugged, speaks to the humanity of the site's coders and staff—and, more likely, the occasional complete incompetency of their higher-ups, but let's not get into that LOL. Aside from a few particularly awful or unintuitive elements, these uncertainties and imperfections tend to be enjoyable and even valuable, in my eyes. They're quirks, but not in the sense of a 'quirky' fast food brand with a 'silly social media guy'—who is, in reality, the result of highly calculated marketing efforts. What differentiates Tumblr in this case is that these imperfections aren't really artificial. They're simply being embraced. And that's… kinda nice?

In a site that serves to foster expression through the digital medium in so many different ways, there are bound to be certain boundaries broken, for better or worse. Think of all the strange, inexplicable glitches Tumblr has experienced through the years. The relative lack of limitations—on file size, on media type, on character counts—naturally leads to all sorts of strangeness. A few months ago I made a post that displays as an image when viewed on a blog page, thanks to some HTML style elements I was strangely able to include. I don't know why that's possible, but it is! Even excluding silly exploits like that, users are free to play around with comically long, obtrusive posts whenever they please. The fact that "Do you love the color of the sky" is a site-wide staple speaks volumes about the kind of platform Tumblr is.

You're allowed to reblog a post 100 times in a row, and that post can be an obnoxiously long sequence of the sky. Rather than fight against pitifully low character counts, you're free to type up sprawling, rambling blocks of text, and it's up to you whether or not that goes under a read more. Your images aren't cropped or downsized, or crammed into neat, tiny aspect ratios. In terms of a clean, intuitive user experience, this is... objectively awful. And that's what makes it great. You're allowed to be obtrusive. In the near infinite space allowed, you're free to exist in any format you see fit.

It's easy to be cynical about this stuff; trust me, I'm well aware that this sense of 'humanity' is propagated primarily to create a likeable brand identity, also in the interest of generating profit from its users—but come on, that's just kind of a given, and severs aren't free. I don't think it's bad to embrace the community formed as a result of this, and I'd argue that having an interest in the site surrounding the community you enjoy is just genuinely good. I still highly encourage everyone to learn how to make their own websites (due to the plentiful easy to use resources and platforms available), but I recognize that this isn't a one-size-fits-all solution. There are many benefits a large social media platform has over an independent website, and you'd be ignorant to ignore them. And when so many websites are being sanitized, sterilized, and swallowed whole by an all-consuming interest in profit alone, it's nice to see Tumblr try to cultivate chaos instead. Basically, it's a cool social media website with a cool community, relative to the other options out there. And that's pretty cool!

Anyway all of this is to say that I still think the new 30 image limit is awesome. SERIOUSLY WHAT OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA SITE WOULD LET YOU DO THAT

#listen there's a billion bad things i could also say about tumblr and the many questionable decisions of its staff #but being excited over silly things like this is important for me OKAY?#there's certainly a LOT more to be written regarding this. buuuut not today & not by me right now.#also you have no idea how tempted i was to write this entire post using the [tumblr] thing. why is that a feature

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gb-patch · 2 years

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Asks Collection: December 15th, 2021

I’ve got a collection here of asks that aren’t questions, but are just really nice messages that I’ve kept saved in my inbox for the past months. Thank you all so much for sending me your experiences and kind words. I’m sorry I don’t post these kinds of asks quickly up on the blog, it makes me happy to see them when I’m answering the questions and I also get pretty shy when responding to sweet messages, aha. But thank you again for sending them! I appreciate it a lot ^^

I just started playing Our Life after downloading it from steam just yesterday since I was looking for LGBTQ+ content and I can’t tell you how much I adore this game. I originally planned to only play an hour or two but I was sucked right in for almost six hours. I love the freedom that is given to the player in this game and just how much choices affect later steps! I also enjoy the high, medium, and low initiative, it was thoughtful to include that in, especially given the comfort level of players. And the dialogue is beautiful! I’m currently going through a difficult life transition at the moment and some of the dialogue in the game really spoke to me in some way. I didn’t really feel alone while playing it which might sound silly but it provided some brief comfort while playing. There’s just a lot about this game and clearly a lot of effort and passion was put into this. I don’t think I’m able to articulate just how much I adore this game. Thank you so much for creating this!

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I just want it to be known, I have had thassolphobia my entire life. Lake water? Scary as hell. Aqauriams? So terrifying there's nothing but water and *shudder* marine creatures. The ocean? No. Hell no. Once on vacation my family thought it would be funny to take me to the ocean and when we were on the beach I got so scared I /fainted/

But, because this damn green haired boy loves the ocean I have put in so much effort to get over it. I used to cry if I thought too much about jellyfish. I now can watch videos of great whites being pet by people. A phobia I have ALWAYS had, is so much better now because I felt the need to improve myself for a fake ass man. I don't know whether to thank you for making a fictional character who made me want to get over my fears, or curse you for making a fictional character I like so much but will never ever meet.... But I've decided to thank you. This game was a wonderful experience and it brought me a lot of happiness, and self improvement apparently. Please tell every single person who worked on Cove how amazing everyone finds him.

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Hey I just want to say I adore the game a lot, it’s incredibly addictive and I love the passion and love that went into creating this game. I just bought the dlc recently and I just want to thank you for having Cove be Panromantic demisexual. I’m currently questioning my romantic orientation after some reevaluation and I’m demisexual myself, and I cried various times playing the game, seeing various aspects of myself in Cove. I would elaborate more but I feel like this is long enough already. Just thank you, thank you so much for creating this game. ❤️❤️❤️

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I think i’m in love

With a fictional being I—

Wow

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hi!! id just like to say that cove and our life in general helped me realize and accept im demiromantic!! so thank you !!! <3 -tom

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Check him out while Cove checked in. The word play was amazing. I laughed so hard! That's my MC. He's definitely think like that. I am always amazed by subtle change made to fit MC's personality. For example, how Cove describes MC after market incident fits my MC every time. Thanks for the great game! I can't wait for step 4, dlcs, and next game!

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I just finished playing Our Life and I'm pretty sure it's now my favourite game! I can't wait for part four!!!

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I just finished OL a couple days ago and I wanted to say that it was so amazing that it’s become one of my favorite things I’ve ever played. The attention to detail is wonderful, the writing is brilliant and it’s so heartwarming, wholesome and cute that it’s made me tear up many times. I’m sad that I had to eventually finish it, but I’m very glad that I played it in the first place because it’s definitely a one of a kind. I’ve played a lot of dating sims/romantic visual novels and if I’m being honest - a lot of them are mediocre (not all of course). Our Life scratches the itch that I’ve always had - to want a game that lets me be me in it without any consequences and to have a romantic story that continuously makes my heart flutter as I read it. I hate having to pick an option just because the love interest would like it more, but that’s not the case with Our Life! I was so surprised with how well the little customizations were pulled off. I can’t wait for step 4 and the wedding dlc and then again for any future projects that are in the works for other games which is also why I joined the patreon, I just couldn’t help myself. Sorry for dumping so many compliments, but I wanted to show my appreciation. It’s well deserved.

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dwidhwqihswqiqswq your games are so good i can't- I literally just saw the characters and some scenes and I already love this game- good job btw

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ahhh I just wanted to say that I enjoyed ol 1 so much (literally spent hours on it and on making a mc for it lmao) and that I'm super excited for both what is being added to ol 1 and also ol 2. like more exited than I think I've ever been for a game release lmao.

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I love Cove squeaks thank you 😭😭😭

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just read the answers/questions from july10 and first of all, all the love to the person who found out they were ace thanks to this game, as a fellow asexual the options and representations in game really made me happy!! also wanna add that the game helped me get closer to finding a label for my gender as it offered explanations i didnt have words for myself and by that finding my way to an identity, big thank you for that

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Thank you for making Our Life. I have really bad gender dysphoria at times and it made me extremely happy to get to "experience" growing up as my preferred gender. It was like getting to live a life I didn't have, even briefly. I've never had a game give me nostalgia for things I've never personally experienced before and relationships I didn't actually have. I look forward to your future works! Thanks again.❤

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❀ Hello! I'm absolutely smitten with both Our Life games, and I'm really excited for the development of the second version! I'm very happy with how inclusive you all are in regards of different cultures and body types / appearances, as someone who is plus-sized myself it feels really nice seeing Tamarack being the same. I hope you have a nice day! <3 ❀

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Hey! Just found out there’s an official tumblr and just wanted to say, the game is super awesome! The first time I played it it mostly out of boredom (and because it was free) and I was kind of planning to clown on it for being A Dating Sim, but as I played I figured out there’s a was a lot there, and I Quickly figured out that this was one of the first times in anything like this that it let me pick options that were… well, not “normal”, I guess?

When I realized you could chose to be nonverbal, or upset at fire works, or upset about plans changing, or even just choosing not wanting to be touched! everytime it happened I got so genuinely happy, especially with how the others react to you. Even if you can’t put a name to it, I’ve not found a game like this that’s let’s you act this nurodivergent. And It means a whole lot, like a Whole lot. I could probably go on forever, but I just wanted you to know that I absolutely love playing and getting to choose options like that, it’s made OL real important to me, and the few friends I’ve dragged into it too, so, thanks! Keep up the awesome work! I’m really excited to play the new one as soon as I can!

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I don't have a question :) I just want to say that Our Life is one of the best things to ever happen to me and I am so, SO excited for Now and Forever, as it takes place in a much more 'me' setting (beautiful forest, lots of rainy weather). I really hope the series just continues to grow, with Our Life 3, 4 and beyond. There's so much potential for different settings, scenarios, and relationships and I look forward to all you do in the future :) Thank you so much for the best escape from reality

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Bro this game has made me so unexpectedly emotional and question who I choose as my friends. I absolutely love Cove. So thank you for killing my taste in real men and for making such an impactful game. I am definitely buying the DLC. 💜

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So like I had to erase Our Life a while ago since I needed more space for other game and of course I did it after finish it, and when I tell you I did it crying is by no way an exaggeration. I love your game so much and it make me so happy to the point I felt incomplete when I finally reached the end so now seen how you guys are giving us bonus “playrounds” (and one of this is even the long waited wedding!!) I be honest with you.... it sorta makes me wanna cry again because I’ll be able to see not only my boy again but the entire family and- yisus- it just makes me so happy.

I guess I’m resume what i meant to say is, thank you. For creating this game and for still coming back to give us more content 🤲🏼🌹 (and also I beg you don’t make me incredibly nostalgic at the en because I swear I don’t know if I could emotionally and mentally take it, sound like a joke but it’s a cry for mercy)

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Thank you for having positive fat representation ❤️ fat bodies are beautiful and if they were more normalised in media I think there wouldn't be so much fat phobia. You guys always amaze me 🥰

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uhh this may sound weird or something but i just wanna show some appreciation to yall, our life helped me through some really bad times and even helped me find out my identity, so, thanks a lot, i love you all <3

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So I just finished Step 3, I recently discovered this game and binged it for these past 3 days, and I really enjoyed it. Irl I've haven't had a close relationship with anyone romantically. But playing Our Life and sticking by Cove's side has made me feel more loved than I ever had in my life, and I bawled my eyes out while the credits were rolling. I know this is probably a weird ask for you to receive, but I wanted to let you know how much your story that you created has positively impacted my life. Thank you for making me feel loved, and I cannot wait for the next and final chapter to Cove's story!

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hi! i just wanted to thank you so much for creating the world of our life: beginning and always!!! it's brought me so much joy and it's made me so happy, it's officially one of my comfort games and i genuinely cannot thank you enough for making it

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I wanted to tell you for a while, but never thought it was important enough - this game changed my life. It made me realize my sexuality, it helped me see the things I want in life and it - just brought so much comfort for me. To see it end gives me such a bittersweet feeling, but it'll always hold a special place in my heart. Thank you for all your hard work - thank you for giving me something to go back to when life becomes too much! Step 4 was beyond great!

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I really love how Cove’s feelings are portrayed about his parents’ divorce, it hit very close to home for me since I was in a similar position to Cove in Step 1. His feelings evolved and changed over time in a realistic way in each Step, and I really admired how the writing nailed it. Also, I loved how the story and art created the feeling of the perfect childhood summer of a lifetime, one that you hold close to your heart and think of fondly for the rest of your life. Thank you & the Our Life team for the incredible game, I can’t wait for the wedding DLC!

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#our life #Our Life Beginnings & Always #cove holden #ask #gb patch #gb patch games #Our Life: Now & Forever

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bibliocratic · 3 years

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clear the area jonmartin, post-MAG200 content warnings in the tags

They earn their ending. A happy-ever-after beyond the gaze of any eyes.

Jon endures his abdication. This world has no Archivists, has need of none, the thankless crown of Knowing finally unburdened from his shoulders. The blood washes off Martin’s hands with soap and scrubbing and scalding water. They live.

The end. In conclusion. Fin.

Jon’s new scar, the packaging of his skin split ragged from collarbone to sternum, fades like sun-caught paint. A maw of red pursing to a gummy primrose pink, settling into a rough cartography of white.

The first few months are hard. Brimstone flare-up silences and ice-pick shouting, open-handed forgiveness and closed-fist weeping. They drain themselves to husks with anger and worry and grief until there is enough space for better things to grow there in their stead. Jon’s nightmares were a nightly stormfront to bear, sweated sheets and dawn fanfares of panic and dread, but he is learning now, with the space for his ribs to expand, that it is ok for them to breathe here.

Jon digs up the garden with a rusty trowel until it is a bumpy canvas of mulch and soil, dirt tucked under his fingernails and decorated with smudges up to his elbows. He hums while he irons their shirts in front of the television, thoughtless and senseless with tune.

Martin has tried to, but the sound goes down the wrong way.

Martin is happy.

It isn’t the sight as such, that might sit as a film over his vision to tinge his waking sepia. The reddest thing they own is a terracotta plant plot brimming with raggedy thyme that lives a precarious cliff-top existence on the kitchen windowsill. He observes Jon’s face in all its variations, even pained – when he snags splinters in his fingers, when he stubs his toe on the stone front step and swears damnation – and his response is sympathy tempered by admonishment.

It’s not the sensation, not really, that might tremble on his skin. Martin’s palms tend to dryness inside their homely bubble of creaky central heating, hemmed in by boisterous coastal winds. He handles bread knives and butter knives and steak knives and carving knives without the muscle memory of other blades, and he thinks he might be getting pretty handy with his oven experimentation.

It’s the sound. It wakes him, the noise lingering like the echo of a slap.

The slick punch of metal into muscle. A tooth-bared, tense-jawed gasp.

Resurfacing to shocked consciousness, he would be seized by a frenzy, to know, to check. His scattering hand scrabbling for the lamp with such force he hit it off the nightstand to roll in a giddy clatter, throwing off the covers to rapidly pollute both of them with the outside air. Jon would be rocked from sleep, groggy, panicked, and Martin’s words would not come, a train of thought trying to race full steam where no one had laid tracks, so it would be just the two of them, exhausted and upset and amping the other up in misery.

Now, upon his rousing, Martin knows not to turn on the light. He does not check. The aftermath of punch-gasp curls in his ear, and he inhale-exhale-inhales with the ferocity of mantra, and clamps the threatened tears in the clench of his teeth.

He does not wake Jon.

“How did you sleep?”

“Oh, you know me. Like a log.”

He is happy. He is. Why wouldn’t he be?

Jon rumbles like a rusty mechanism with snoring whenever he drops off on his back, and he mumbles accusatory when Martin coaxes him to his side. Martin finds black hairs on his pillowcase, in the shower plug. Jon is a vista of experience since the Eye left him, who gets hungry and tired and grumpy and drunk and silly and fed-up and giggly. Jon searches him out with the surety of magnets, and loves him, loves him, loves him. He seals kisses to Martin’s new landscape of extensive scars. Their disagreements, when they surface, are as meaningful and lasting as stones skipped on water.

Martin wanted this. He wants this. The rhythms of domesticity fading to foam on an untroubled shore.

He is out of practise with happiness, that’s all. It doesn’t come to him like breathing. He needs to till the earth of it, shelter its seeds from a thousand circling crows until it bears harvest.

He just has to try harder.

Night-time.

An episode or two of something simple, Jon nodding off like a capsizing ship before the credits. Encouraging him up in grousing, unwilling increments, rubbing out the nettle sting of pins and needles up his own arm. Check the locks, the light switches. Brush teeth. Pyjamas. Put his phone to charge, read until Jon succumbs to sleep. Click the light off, pushing Jon onto his side so his mouth doesn’t dry. Jon squirming around like a fastidious octopus until he has at least half his limbs hooked over Martin.

The dark creating shadow play. In the absence, Martin colouring in the gaps with lurid shades of disaster.

A creak – the rattle of a door downstairs, an intruder unfastening the back door, transferring their weight upon the staircase. A unfamiliar scent – the recollection of smoke-stench in his nostrils, the acrid promise of gas, the ferrous pungency of blood. The rain will flood their house to drown them. The wind will blow their roof in. Jon hooks his leg around Martin, the skin void of hair where Daisy’s mouth had almost torn it off, and all he can envision is the ways this could be destroyed as he watches.

Bundle Jon close. Ignore the rain, the itch at the bottom of his stomach, the queasy roil of his fear. Drift into unkind sleep populated with its garden of earthly terrors.

Martin is… not happy. Not exactly. And that’s fine. It’s fine.

Jon is happy.

Jon, rubbing at the compression lines around his hips, the accusatory splay of the top button refusing to budge closed:

“I can’t fit into my jeans.”

Martin enfolds him from behind, planting his palms over the slight paunch of Jon’s stomach, filled out through sensible eating and small indulgences and a hunger that will never be ravenous but has restored its human qualities.

“Hmm. It’s a good look on you. Healthier.”

“Or it’s middle age.”

“Or it’s eating things that aren’t tea and meal-deal sandwiches.”

“Or other people’s terror.”

“Oh yes, you’re right, I completely forgot about your subsistence diet of eldritch and unbidden horrors in a luscious wholegrain wrap, forgive me.”

Jon laughs at that. The sound has not yet lost its novelty for either of them.

He shifts, turns, his arms a buoy around Martin’s stomach.

“You’ve lost weight.”

“Must be all the clean air,” Martin quips. “All that healthy living.”

Punch. Gasp. Exhale.

Martin wakes up.

When his heart has wound down from the pace of its gallop, he extricates himself from Jon’s grip. It is a laborious task to find the places where they’ve joined in the night and pull them apart, like separating fabric snagged on rosebushes.

He gets some water from the cold tap in the kitchen. Sits heavily on the sofa, the room cossetted by the gloom.

Punch. Gasp. Exhale.

His hands shake.

He doesn’t go back to bed.

He isn’t happy, but he could grow to be. He could. He could. He just isn’t trying hard enough.

Some days, he feels like he’s waiting for the ice to give under them.

Check the passers-by as they walk. Anyone familiar, any teeth filed too sharp, anything animal or blood-shot, any eyes that glance too deep.

Check the oven. The gas knobs are angled to off but a leak is not impossible in a house this old, their alarm might malfunction, they might fall asleep and some spark from a plug socket could catch and incite a conflagration.

Check the window latches. The opening wide enough for a body to squirm through, the claws of a Hunter marring the sill. Wriggling infestations that invade through the letter box, the keyhole, the gap under the door where the wind can whistle through.

Check. Check. Check.

Jon is happy. Jon has a job, work friends, a hundred small luxuries that he has struggled to earn. Jon is happy, so why can’t he be? He went through so much less, the blood washed off easily with soap, what the fuck does he have to cry over –

Martin has always crafted his masks from scrap, tongue out in concentration, piecing things together in low light, a make-do-and-mend of his own devising. His early efforts, the paper mâché and glue easily cracked before he learned to shore up his constructions. He has a small collection garnered over years.

The quiet-voiced, muffled-stepped, muted-smiled creation of a Good Son.

The zipped-mouth, no-refusals-no-complaints-yes-of-course-how-high earnestness of the Good Employee, the desperation sanded off the edges so no one could see.

The I’ll-get-the-first-round friendliness, the open-handed, open-hearted, too-naïve Good Colleague.

This new mask forms in increments, in the same way a rising mound of dirt marks the extent of a grave being dug.

He doesn’t mean to. It’s just he’s better at not talking about things. He always has been. And it is an ugly, easy comfort, to slip back into bad habits.

And Jon is happy.

All the things Martin does not wish to permit the light to touch he compresses inside like shaken soda. The rot in him deepens structural, the places where he papers over moulds and fungal speckles with the distraction of their new life. His smile parades simple, contented, cheeky, teasing, and there is a meticulous artistry in each. He sketches interest, paints joy, manufactures irritation out of the clay of nothingness that he allows himself to feel instead of the overwhelming rush of everything else.

I love you, his mouth murmurs, laughs, sighs, groans, and that at least is always true.

The mask of a Good Partner slips on tailor-made.

They find their nine-to-fives. Jon’s job is uneventful, boring, and nowhere near an Archive. He works in a registry office for the council, filing and organising and he’s cheerfully lied on his CV in order to get it. He gets the bus and texts Martin grumpy faces and GIFs summarising his mood when he gets suck in the commute or some idiot parks in a bus lane, he has a couple of colleagues he likes and a greater number that he tolerates, he gets a hot chocolate from this universe’s overpriced multinational chain on his lunch hour. When he gets home, he complains with delight at the mundanity of his dissatisfactions, regales Martin with tales of meagre drama.

Martin gets a cleaning job at a school. It is monotonous, dull and safe. Martin loses track of the time easily, quagmired in his musings. The children are wary of him and his visible scarring but it doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. The teachers are friendly enough, as well as the other cleaning staff, but he does not make friends. They’ll have to move anyway, if anything finds them here, if the Fears emerge again.

Martin tries not to feel like he’s waiting.

He wants to have a good night’s sleep.

“I’ll have breakfast at the school, don’t worry.”

“There were some leftovers from the canteen, so I’m kind of full.”

“It was one of the teacher’s birthdays, you know, Denise? Heh, might have had a bit too much cake. I’ll pop this in the fridge for later though, it’ll keep till tomorrow.”

“I’m just not that hungry tonight, Jon.”

He feels sharper when he doesn’t eat. It is uncomfortable, a scratched-out, hollowing sensation, but things focus more. He can control nothing else but this, and it feels good, to have this mastery over himself when so much is beyond him.

He drops down notches on his belt and tells Jon it’s all the walking he’s doing.

The world continues to happen to them. He goes to the cinema with Jon and picks at popcorn and encourages Jon’s outraged opinion. He meets Jon’s mildly interesting work friends and plays nice and excels at small talk, and he drinks half a cider that he nurses over the evening because it’s making his head fuggy. His body communicates its sharpness to him and he gains grim satisfaction from ignoring it. He goes to work and goes home and doesn’t sleep and goes to work and goes home and doesn’t sleep.

Martin does his best at living, and his mask doesn’t slip.

“You seem tired,” Jon pries his words out carefully, picking them out of his teeth as one would scraps. “Is… is everything ok?”

“Yeah, sure it is. Why?”

“… you seem a bit down today. Recently. Is anything… is there anything you want to talk about?”

“I’ve just been working too hard. Been a while since I had to do double-shifts, heh, I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“If you’re sure?”

Jon shifts to a different position where he’s sat on the sofa, his legs tucking up under him. Martin endures his questioning gaze with practise.

“Yeah, I’m all good.”

Martin delivers a hand-crafted smile that’s gilded heavily with guilelessness and reassurance. He watches as Jon believes him and hates himself.

“You know… You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you can – you know you can talk to me, Martin?”

Martin’s eyes focus on Jon’s chest at the point where a knife once sunk in, and doesn’t reply.

Punch. Gasp. Exhale.

Martin wakes up.

Jon has twisted over onto his back again, rattling like a chain-smoker’s cough with his snoring. They were quiet that evening, tangled up in their own thoughts, but there is none of that distance in sleep. During the night, Jon’s wormed himself out of the covers with a single-minded determination, his restless legs squashing the duvet to the bottom of the bed on his side, encouraging Martin’s to follow suit.

He’s shirtless, his top chucked off to pile unceremoniously on the floor. The temperature is ripe with a burgeoning summer heat, and Jon tosses and complains if he’s overwarm, and Martin didn’t think he’d get to feel the drudgery of another lived summer. He’s shirtless, and the room is palled in sweltering dark that softens the vague shapes of the wardrobe, the chest of drawers, the knickknacks of the life they’re building together. He’s shirtless, and Martin cannot see where the scar is, the only scar of Jon’s he has ever thought ugly, but he knows it is there. That he put it there. That he could just as easily be waking up alone.

His body pains him to live in it. His stomach tight and bottomed out empty.

He is so so tired.

Martin’s heartbeat does not slow down. His chest constricting, and he swallows, a sharp sound hiccupping in his throat. He stifles it with a forceful sniff but more come as a painful spasming wave, and he has to sit up if any air is to dribble into his lungs.

He should get up. He has to get up, do this in the bathroom, doubled-over the sink, stifling his weakness where it cannot be witnessed. He cannot do this here.

Punch. Gasp.

His burning face is soaked as he bunches up his sleeves against his reddening eyes. A calming exhale drains out shaky, moulds itself into another loud sob. He plants his hands over his mouth, screwing his eyes closed, and this will pass, he’s fine, this will pass…

“Martin?”

I’m sorry to wake you, he thinks to say. It’s nothing, go back to sleep, stop looking at me Jon, I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s nothing, it’s nothing…

His shoulders start to shake.

“Martin?” Jon repeats slowly. And the ice creaks and cracks and Martin gasps and then it breaks, and the force of his damned-up grief is tidal, catastrophic and he sobs into his hands.

“It’s… it’s alright – it’s… it was a nightmare, that’s all, ‘s alright…”

“It’s not!” Martin bubbles out, the words mashed to a wail in his hands. “It’s not, it’s not, it’ll ruin this…”

“Hey.” Jon brings his arm around Martin and he buries his head in the bony crook of his shoulder because he does not want to meet Jon’s eyes. “What do you mean? Martin?”

Jon rubs at his back. Martin’s body betrays him in a hundred ways as it collapses around him. His weeping wrings him out, dry-mouthed and headachy and trembling when he subsides into shivery breaths.

“Talk to me,” Jon says. “Please.”

“You’re so happy,” Martin sniffs out. “I-I want you to be happy, god, o-of course I do. Things are, they’re good, they’re good and we won, s-s-so why does it feel like I’m still holding my breath? I-I go to bed and I’m frightened of every noise, and I wake up and I’m terrified that someone somehow could take this all away, and I can’t sleep, and I-I’m tired, Jon, I’m tired of holding my breath, and it’s all – it’s all so much a-a-a-and I can’t – ”

“Oh, Martin – ”

His words fail him then. Jon holds him up and his arms do not loosen.

“We-we’re going to fix this,” Jon says after a long while. “I promise you, together, we’ll – we’ll talk to someone. You aren’t alone in this. Together, alright, we’ll do this together. We’ve survived – everything else, we can get through this too.”

“I don’t know if I can believe you,” Martin says, too drained to avoid honesty.

“…Maybe not yet,” Jon says after a pause. “That’s OK. I can wait.”

I’m sorry, Martin attempts to say but Jon presses a kiss to his forehead.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jon says. He strokes Martin’s sweat-soaked hair.

“… Can we talk? Tomorrow? You don’t have to tell me everything, but… I’d like to be there for you, if you want me. If you’ll let me.”

Martin nods because he doesn’t trust his gummed-up throat. Jon takes that as an answer.

Dawn comes in slowly enough but they see it in together.

#tma #the magnus archives #cw racing thoughts #cw anxiety #tw eating disorder #tw ptsd #ask to tag #cw nightmares #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #jonmartin #tma spoilers

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compassionatereminders · 2 years

Note

i hope this doesnt come off as like enabling anything that might be hurting you but lowkey i find it kind of validating that you are open about those bender experiences yet are just you and the you i know is someone who (from a far ofc) is also a kind gentle person who makes a cnsistent effort to make the world a kinder place. And just seeing that is very important to me, some dork still too anxious to not be on anon. I'm a polysubstance user and im pretty sure i will be forever bc i'm not sure i can rawdog the concept of reality daring to continue after some stuff that happened. And until I found your blog that alone jsut made me feel so shitty and dirty. God, I was honestly so ashamed of what I thought i was to such a depth that it should be silly that your blogging uprooted that shame so effortlessly. I really thought there was no possible way for me to not be a daily polysubstance user and not be a stereotypical manipulative, mean, etc etc person. I would legit argue with my friends and spouse who have all shown me nothing but immense nonjudgemental compassion and support that they were wrong - I was a garbage human being because total sobriety is unbearable to me.

But then I saw you existing and creating and maintinging this little corner of the internet to be like a gentle warm safe haven no matter how dark the rest of the world is and I saw you've also had those nights and you have reasons why those nights happen and most importantly i saw that you are also what i consider to be a good person - you seem to live your life consistently with the goal of leaving the world a better place than how you encountered it that day. And the first time I saw you bender posting it literally just shifted my world and self view 15 inches to the left. It's dumb but like, I had never been able to observe someone who was able to hold within themselves such continued compassion and energy to strangers in tandem with the stuff most of the world likes a lot less so it was just something that never occurred to me. And god I'm getting too sappy and being weird over something that's probably silly and small to everyne else but seeing you do it through the highs and lows literally made it possible for me to accept that being a drug user (and by extension a survivor) is something that does not preclude me from being the person the people who love me think i am or make me lesser in any way shape or form. Your drug use does not make you any less valuable as a person or worthy of being loved and cherished (if you aren't or feel like you arent I hope every force in the universe turns to give you that), and thus i can no longer justify believing my drug use makes me less than worthy of all that too.

And I hope this isn't too offputting. I saw some of your posts and am in just squishy enough of a headspace to feel safe letting you know how much you being open about this has made this weirdo stranger's life much more worth living. Like, fuck homie. Ever since you gave me what i needed for that paradigm shift sometimes i just go and hold the love of my life's hand while they sleep because i want to make up for all the time wasted holding their hand and feeling like i was going to ruin them.

nyways, thanks for listening to me and all the other strangers of the internet. I hope your coke crash recedes quickly and smoothly. and may the grocery store never be out of your favrite things.

Addiction doesn't make you a bad person and I'm happy to be a reminder of that. Even while being reliant on drugs, it's entirely possible to be a good and kind person who does their best to treat others right. Obviously addiction isn't a good thing, but it doesn't invalidate your humanity and it doesn't make you a bad person. I'm proud to remind you of that fact!

#chat with kat #drugs tw #addiction tw #cocaine tw

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abtheb · 2 years

Text

BOTW Rito Devblog (Part 1)

After going through my 2021 art files, I thought it could be interesting to do some sort of timelapse/process for how I make models - not that I expect anyone would actually be interested, or to suggest that I, in any way, know what I'm doing. If nothing else, it would be fun to look back next year/later at my silly past practices and enjoy seeing my progress in retrospect.

I'm entirely self-taught thanks to youtube tutorials, a lot of trial and error, and very patient and incredibly wise developer friends who dummy down their answers to my questions about the more tech-side of this hobby. I started around two years ago with the mindset that, much like being a meaty beef man irl, it's all about making the time to put in effort and practice consistently, and enjoying what you do.

Hence, the joy of playing/replaying old games with an artist's eye and making models from them. Dragon Quest 11, World of Warcraft, LoZ Majora's Mask, Banjo Kazooie - it's been a lot of fun to re-experience these games from this new perspective, and a lot of good practice to make models based on the work of vastly superior artists.

So all that to say, that this is a brief, incomplete, amateurishly-considered process for how I made the Rito I posted the other day using Blender 3.0.

References

Play a game, find a neat model, take screenshots of it - from the front, sides, back, close-ups of the face, cutscenes, whatever. I chose Teba because he's neat and because I don't trust my skills enough to do Kass the justice he deserves.

I try to ensure that for the front/side/back references, the scaling of the subject is as close to identical as possible. It's worth taking the time to take good in-game screenshots, as it will really help make things easier throughout the whole process.

2. Shape a torso cube

We start with the torso, and ultimately used one cube for the entire model's mesh - except the clothes, which I would add at the end. We also mirror the cube along the middle, as Teba is photogenically symmetrical.

Using front-orthographic view (shortcut: Numpad 1) to align the cube with the torso, we make a few loop cuts (shortcut: Ctrl+R) and start shaping the silhouette as seen from the front, grabbing the edges (G) and moving them along the X axis (shortcut: X). If viewed from the side, the above/below would still look like a square.

Grab edges and move them along the X axis to create the form

Swap between front and side orthographic view (numpad 3) and repeat the process. However, since we want to keep the front silhouette accurate, we move the vertices rather than the edges. X-Ray mode helps to line up the proportions.

Grab vertices and move them along the Y and Z axes

The mirror will act as an additional edge, so the end result is hexagonal when viewed from above.

Top orthographic view (Numpad 7)

In my unfortunate experience, it can be easy to get carried away and start making tons of loop cuts to try and refine the shape to a high detail early. Since this model will not be very low poly, some extra loop cuts are needed to round out the torso and prepare to extrude arms and legs - but practice and trial and error (mostly error) has shown me that fewer is better, and that each cut should be made thoughtfully.

Thoughtful loop cuts

To that end, we make 1 loop cut across the front, and 2 across the side - then continue to refine the shape. Swap continuously between front and side orthographic views, turning X-Ray mode on and off as needed. Using a combination of Grab (G), Edge Slide (GG), and locking grabs to axes (X, Y, or Z to lock in the respective axis), we can move each vertex in place until we get a shape we are happy with. Keeping the vertex count low by avoiding too many loop cuts makes this process quicker and more manageable - though I ended up adding a few additional loop cuts along the height to get the curvy figure just right.

Our immediate goal is two-fold:

Complete the general profile of the torso

Anticipate the location of, and prepare those areas for, extruding arms, legs, head (I forgot about the tail until the model was basically done, but luckily the topology was clean enough to extrude it painlessly right at the end)

Predicted arm location

Moving these vertices into place and cleaning the topology of the mesh is a bit painstaking, but (imo) it is also meditative and very satisfying when you get the shape right. Take your time, because the cleaner the mesh is, the fewer problems you will have later when extruding limbs, texturing, and rigging the model. Though that being said, don't lose your mind getting the vertices just right - because you will inevitably come back and make topology adjustments throughout the modeling process anyways.

When you've reached a shape you like, shade it smooth, save your progress, take a step back, and enjoy your cube.

Completed torso

I'll post the next parts of this under the "rito art devblog" tag.

#my art #gamedev #rito art devblog

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seraphdarlimg · 3 years

Text

wish I were...

after Harry kisses reader, she watches him mesmerized as his ex walks by

‘heather’ by conan gray WARNINGS - ANGST. WORD COUNT - 2,109

A/N: this is the first imagine I’ve ever posted on here hehe. but this most likely will be a 2-3 part mini series of pure angst...so yay!

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"My goodness, I can't believe it's been a year and this is how we're celebrating it? " I take a sip from my wine glass with a raised brow towards Harry. We were sat on the floor at the recording studio, having a makeshift little picnic to celebrate a year. A whole year of a beautiful friendship. "Well I thought it'd be fitting, ya know this is where we met and stuff. Look, I even got those Korean chips that you snacked on that day!" I laugh as he comically picks up a chip and places it in his mouth, followed by an exaggerated moan. I try to hide the blush rapidly heating up my face at how much effort he put into this silly thing. It started as a little joke I brought up to him one day when we were having a lazy day, and of course Harry would take it seriously. He planned the little picnic basket after a day in the studio when everyone else left and he had asked me to stay a little longer to help him with lyrics and whatnot. It was a complete surprise and I couldn't help but adore how happy and proud he was setting this up.

"Alright I gotta give it to ya H, you are the bestest friend anyone could ever ask for. I'm just happy that you didn't include those disgusting kale chips of yours." The smile that hasn't left his face drops into a shocked and offended look.

"Hey, you said you wouldn't make fun of my addiction anymore." He scoots closer to me, gently poking my rib to which I immediately jump and swat his hand away. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry!" I giggled when he makes himself comfty sat right next to me.

Subconsciously, I move closer till his shoulder touched mine. "I like this sweater, it's fluffy and keeps people warm." I say, huddling into the fabric that Harry gave me to wear when it got colder. "You know what, I like all your sweaters H, they're all impeccable." He chuckles, "really? It looks better on you than me, bubs." I smile, using the over-sized sleeves to cover my face and faking a groan. "Oh you would with that cliché ass line." "It's true! Beautiful in m'clothes." He mumbles and I had to only respond with gratefully lending my shoulder as a resting spot for his head. Considering he literally had to bend his whole body to do so every time he does this, I never understood how he found this comfortable. We shared a comfortable silence for a minute, sipping on our wine, the bottle nearly finished. The courage coming from it is telling me this would be the perfect time. It's the right setting to finally tell him that my feelings go beyond friendship and that it has been since the first month. The thought made me nervous at first, but there had been so many signs from him that had me thinking he's feeling the same way. Maybe those were just my expectations and how loving Harry is, but every time I look at him, I'm mesmerized. "Honestly don't know what I'd do without you bubs." Harry suddenly says and I snap out of my thoughts to glance down at him staring at his empty glass. My heart started beating fast and my breathe hitched when he pulls away only a few inches away to look back at me "This was a tough year and you've been there with me through it all, haven't been this close to someone in that short of time." He says lowly, looking right into my eyes. I take his hand in my small ones and play with his fingers in comfort, as we reflected on how this was both the best and worst year for him. While he became such a successful solo artist after the band and created the best relationships in his life, he reached a mental low dealing with his own insecurities and went through a breakup that took a major toll on him. They ended on good terms, but Harry went through the aftermath of a loss alone. I came in a month after his break up, hired as a lyricist to help him get out of this creative block but also to help him realize how much he was really worth as a person. It was a gradual slow process of friendship at the start, but it quickly blossomed into becoming best friends, growing feelings in between for me. "You're so good to me, I don't deserve it." He was so close and I couldn't tell if I was leaning in or not. My chest feels like it's bursting. "Harry, you've done so much for me, don't put yourself down like that. You deserve my love, mkay?" He looked so vulnerable, staring into my eyes as I couldn't pinpoint what emotion he was feeling right now. I was always able to read Harry easily, but maybe it was the wine that made it harder to understand what was racing through his mind. I couldn't register it. His lips on mine were foreign but felt right, like they fit perfectly. His hands cupping my face gently made me realize this was actually happening. My best friend who I've loved for so long was finally kissing me. "You absolutely deserve mine... " *** My anxiety was getting the best of me. The party wasn't like any other rowdy and crowded New Year's Eve celebration. It was a gathering of close friends and mutual at a penthouse with just enough drinking and fun shenanigans. I knew all these people and they knew me, yet it wasn't easy to breathe regularly for some reason. I smiled and laughed along with the conversation among the circle of friends I situated myself in with Harry standing to my right, two people in-between us. I anxiously played with my fingers wrapped around a bulbous wine glass, zoned out but somewhat participating with the group. I caught his eyes, both of us giving a smile when he shot me a quick goofy face. His eyes trailed down to my hands, an obvious tell. I respond with a reassuring smile, placing my hand on my chest to which he steps outside and moves to stand next to me. I soften as he places a hand casually on my back, rubbing up and down. The nerves die down a bit. Usually, I would of been full comfortable but it was different now. After the kiss Harry and I shared, nothing had changed as much as I wanted it too. There was still the casual flirting and touchy gestures, but other than that, Harry never brought it up. "Soo, what now?" I had asked him when he dropped me off at my apartment. He gives me a tight smile and takes my hand in his, bringing it to his lips. "Still my best girl." I was confused afterwards, not fully understanding how he felt towards me. "Hey, I kind of wanted to talk to you about yesterday... " I approached him in the studio, his sweater keeping me warm that morning. "Oh yeah, you never told me what you wanted for Christmas. And by the way, I'm gonna need that sweater back sooner or later." He chuckles, going back to writing down chord progressions. Him avoiding the subject made me think he didn't want to talk about it, so I stopped trying. It made me insecure a bit to show him any type of affection back, but I didn't have it in me to tell him when I'm engulfed in his huge frame, feeling safe and happy at the moment. What made me snap out of my thoughts was his hand leaving my back and slipping into his jacket pocket. He then started being part of the funny story Mitch was telling, including his own side and little comedic comments that made the group laugh. As much as it brought a smile to my face, there was nothing more I wanted to do than take his arm, wrap it around me and kiss his cheek before laying my head on his chest. He took a second here and there to glance at me, probably aware how tired i was getting even though it was only a few minutes before midnight. The kiss defiantly affected something here, as much as Harry was trying to show that it hasn't, I can at least appreciate the acknowledgment that he shared similar feelings towards me. Maybe this was him thinking about the possibilities afterwards, knowing Harry wasn't very much a confrontational person and has taken time to learn to process things more logically rather than pure emotional instinct. When he catches me staring and throws a knowing smirk followed by a wink, I melt right on the spot but at the same time, holding back from rolling my eyes. I felt his stare kept on me when I looked away, feeling less frustrated and more understanding of his situation. Maybe I do just need to give him time... When I looked back at him, he was now looking away at something else apart from the group. I didn't give it a second glance till I noticed he was fully distracted before Mitch kept calling his name but getting no response back. Harry was in deep trance at something more fascinating than his friend's story, and when I caught sight of what was distracting him, I fully understood why. She stood out, so it wasn't to hard to point her out. But of course she would, she looks stunning in that dress that happens to only be a different shade of color from mine. The natural glam and brightening smile on her face as she talked to mutual friends perfected her look, but it was the sound of her melodic voice that just set the deal. It was her laughter from across the room that caught his attention first, what made him break his gaze on me to her. My first thought was concern for Harry and if he was suddenly feeling overwhelmed or distraught by her presence after a breakup. But then I looked back at him and only saw longing and adoration. It was a look I only was recently familiarized with. I purse my lips to hide the frown set on my face while I felt my heart beat much faster initially, watching him mesmerized as she walks across the floor to greet more party guests. Her blue eyes wide and shining, most likely something Harry was dying to see once again as he hoped she would turn his way. Is this what hopelessness feels like? Mitch gave up on trying to catch his attention as soon as he realized who Harry was looking at, and so did the rest of the group. But here I was, desperately looking up at him in hopes that he would suddenly break away and meet my own eyes that stood right next to him. "Guys! The count downs about to start!" Someone called out, followed by cheers and applause as everyone slowly started gathering towards the balcony to see the firework show and celebration of the city below. She moves away from the crowd though, choosing to be semi alone next to the aquarium with a glass of martini in her hand. More people started crowding around us, the group disintegrated into a whole, but my focus was on Harry. As much as my anxiety and tiredness was getting worse, it couldn't compare to the ache in my chest when he takes a hesitant step towards her direction. In a second, my hand flies towards his and gently tugs to me in a last ditch of desperation while I softly call out his name. Maybe it was the way he stopped and turned his head slightly before completely pulling away and walking towards her, leaving me engulfed with the crowd alone. Or that I could picture the loving look on his face when she finally sees him approaching and gives him a welcoming smile while the sound of people counting down from 20 is muddled into the background. All I could imagine to hear was his small 'hi' and compliment for how beautiful she looks, knowing how nervous he would be. "3, 2, 1! Happy New Years!" The celebration of those around me drowned out my glossy eyes as I see Heather take Harry's hand in hers, sharing that same complete adoration look on her face that I was only just becoming familiar with.

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part 2 A/N: feedback would greatly be appreciated :)

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #heather #i really listened to this song on loop for 2 hours going through it

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victoria-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Of Vices and Virtues

AN: This story is being crossposted from my Fanfiction account. I figured I might as well post it up here, there’s not enough black!oc X-Men fanfictions to be honest. If anyone wants to be added to the taglist for this story let me know.

Summary: Claudia Walker created the perfect facade she had a simple life, a simple job. There was nothing remarkable about her. Until two men offer her the chance to do something with her powers to stop a war looming on the horizon. In a fight between good and evil, loyalties strain and relationships grow. The world's changing for better and worse, and Claudia is right in the middle of it.

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men just the OCs in the story.

Trigger warnings: none I can think of

Word Count: 4.3k

Chapter One: The Queen of Hearts

The music started up, with the sultry tango beats of "Whatever Lola Wants" by Sarah Vaughn. Her colorful voice lit like a spark in the air, and with it, the seductive lyrics of the song. The air seemed to crackle as I spun away from my dance partner, but a strong hand ripped me back into his grasp. With glittering eyes I pressed myself against him, his hand tenderly slipping over my back. We side-stepped as the singer continued to croon the audience with her hypnotic lyrics.

"Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets,"

"And silly man, Lola wants you," I sung to the man, who was completely entranced.

He stopped dancing to trace along my curvy figure slowly, extracting a long breath from my lips. He rejoined my hands smoothing his over my fingers. I crossed my left foot seductively in front of the right, while cocking my head mischievously to side. He smiled and placed his right hand dangerously low on my back. Before he could change direction again, I elevated my right foot, kicking it behind me, and situated behind his right leg, coquettishly hooking around his toned calf. I smirked, savoring the attention I was getting from my dance partner and the men who were watching me dance.

The man copied me by kicking his right leg between the middle of my two. He was daring, and he pressed my chest into his.

"I always get what I aim for. And your heart and soul is what I came for,"

The song finished up and I pulled away from him, creating space between us, "You may go now, I've had my fun," I instructed, trailing my index finger up over the man's tie.

He nodded and shuffled off of the dance floor. I made my way off of the dance floor, to order another drink. It was Saturday night, and the nightlife was at its height. I took my seat on the bar stool, signaling for the bartender to pour me another drink. I grabbed my clutch that was hiding underneath the chair and opened it, pulling out a compact mirror.

I looked at my reflection, my eyes were a brilliant almond shape, with dark brown irises that held knowledge and wisdom beyond my years. My lashes were long, dark, and thick. My lips were red with lipstick, but full and perfect. My wide nose curved in a delicate slope and I could clearly see my defined cheekbones. I combed my fingers through my hair making sure that every hair was in place and checking that my makeup hadn't smudged. I snapped my mirror shut and placed back it back into my purse, a sigh escaping me.

I had always known I was different since I was a child. I always felt out of place. I never blamed my parents for that. They loved me and they always did what they thought was the best for me. Well, at least what was good for them I suppose.

It was at the age of eighteen when I left my home, leaving my past in Pennsylvania far behind me. My memories from there were unpleasant, to say the least, and I needed to leave. To start a new life elsewhere, in central New York. Money was never a problem, I had a decent paying job as a psychologist's assistant at a private practice and a well furnished apartment. But I still found myself drinking away my sorrows. At this point in my life, I had to every reason to be happy, but I knew deep down I wasn't. There was always that loneliness, biting at my insides.

Someone cleared their throat next to my ear, something I wasn't all to fond of.

I glanced at them, raising an eyebrow, "Something I can do for you, stranger?" I asked, barely masking my annoyance.

He smiled, and I made a note to admire it. He was pretty handsome it, but he was overly cocky, I could tell by the way he made himself comfortable next to me, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the bar, and getting way too into my personal space. Not to mention he was easily in his mid-forties. I had just turned twenty-two

“Fucking creep, I thought.

"Michael, my name is Michael, Mike for short. You can help me by maybe letting me buy you a drink,"

I raised an eyebrow at this, he moved pretty fast. He must do this all the time to women he thought were drunk. Too bad for him, it took me more than a couple of drinks to have lost my common sense. Pushing my shoulder length, curled black hair out of my face. I faced him to reply as two other men approached, I didn't want any trouble, but the audacity of the man made my blood boil.

"And what do you expect in return for this drink?"

He smiled and leaned in closer to me, placing a hand on my thigh.

"The bastard thought he was in, didn't he?" I thought.

"Well, maybe just a friend," he smirked.

I rolled my eyes and smiled lightly at him, leaning in until our lips barely touched.

"With you? I'd rather watch the grass grow," I replied dryly, eying him up and down, as if he was something I'd find on the bottom of my shoe. "My mama didn't raise me to accept drinks from men I barely know, and my daddy taught me how to break a hand in seven different places, so remove it or I'll do it for you, Mike," I punctuated my sentence by grasping his middle finger in my fist and slowly bending it back, until I heard the pop that let me knew I dislocated it. "Next time I'll break it," I threatened.

"You bitch-" He began, but was interrupted mid-word by me.

"Run along, before I make you gouge out your eyes with a butter knife," I commanded boredly, putting effort into making my words go through the older man's head. The man walked away dutifully and I smirked. "There's a good boy," I cooed, turning away from him and took a sip of my vodka martini.

I heard a chuckle of laughter behind me, causing me to turn around again and examine the new arrivals behind me. The two men who I saw previously were now directly behind me, they appeared to be in their early thirties or late twenties. Despite being slightly tipsy, I couldn't help but gape a little when I properly looked at the two men.

The taller of the two had his thick and muscled arms crossing themselves in front of his broad chest. Clad in a short navy trench coat over a pair of long, black pants and a black turtleneck, his perfectly slicked back hair was the ultimate factor that completed the dangerous, rugged look he was probably going for. He looked like a mafia member, or something.

His icy blue eyes were fixed onto my wandering brown eyes unflinchingly, as a dark brow rose to mock me, to tell me that he had seen me appraising his impressive form. I raised my eyebrow and smirked saucily before I turned my gaze away from the taller man and shifted it to the other one, now standing in front of me.

Unlike Mr. Mafia Man and his dark attire, this man was significantly more professional looking. With his sharp pressed grey blazer jacket, a white button up shirt worn inside, the matching dark grey pants and his polished shoes, this guy pretty much screamed 'successful businessman'. He, along with the other man had sharp masculine features – sharp nose, strong, angular jaw line, and the clearest blue eyes I have ever seen. His eyes were so blue they resembled crystals, and were framed by his dark brows. His short, dark hair was tousled casually.

"Your quite clever," the shorter man complimented, with a thick British accent.

"So I've been told, but I've done nothing tonight that would warrant such a compliment," I replied, looking at the man as I lifted my glass to my lips, taking another sip of my martini.

"I think you have, actually. The song, 'Whatever Lola Wants', it fits you," the man remarked.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion, although I had an inkling to know where this was going, "How so?" I asked curiously, tilting my head slightly.

"Has anyone told you that you have an excellent mutation?" the shorter man asked abruptly, a small smile on his face.

"Mutation? You call every woman you meet a mutant?" I snorted, widening my eyes and let out a chuckle that matched my expression, disbelief. "Wow! This must be the night, where the worst pick-up lines are thrown at me," I drawled, before taking another sip of my drink. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but I am just me. I am normal," I laughed, and the taller man just huffed annoyed.

The shorter man smiled at me, then I noticed that his fingers were pressed onto his temple and he was still looking at me. I frowned at the slight nudge in my head. It didn't hurt, but it was very irritating. I focused on strengthening my shield against the nudges. I felt the nudge grow stronger, it was attacking my shield before it finally gave up and left.

The man looked mildly surprised and my mouth turned into a small frown. I really didn't know why he was surprised. Unless.

Mutant.

I glared angrily at him, "I don't know who the hell you are, but stay out of my head!" I snarled. "You have no right!"

I always thought I was alone, that quickly changed only a couple years ago, but ever since that encounter...well I'm uneasy around other mutants, my own mutation was something I kept to myself, only select people in my family knew about it even.

He put his hands up in surrender, "You're right, my apologies. But how? No one has ever been able to feel me before. Are you a telepath?" he asked, studying me with curiosity shining through his eyes.

"No, I'm just highly aware of myself and those around me," I answered with a slight growl, slamming my glass down on the counter nearly breaking it. "You have your tricks, I have mine," I added, glaring at him.

"My name is Charles Xavier," the man introduced in an irritatingly friendly tone. "And this," he said, gesturing to the other man, "Is Erik Lehnsherr. We're like you. We're different. And we need your help. We are-"

"Is there a private place where we could talk?" Erik interjected hastily in a strong German accent, looking mad and broody, as he looked from one side to the next.

I didn't particularly want to know what, if anything at all, they were to offer. I sat there in silent for a few seconds, first looking at Charles, then at Erik, then back at Charles. If this was a game, it certainly wasn't funny in the least.

"Why should I even try to talk to you two? The first thing Mr. Xavier says to me is that I have a mutation and then he follows that up by trying to intrude my thoughts," I argued. "It has been a long and trying night gentlemen, and I'm over it. So, I'm going to try and scavenge what little fun I can find," I concluded, flashing them a faux smile just as a saxophone moaned through the opening of "I Put a Spell on You" by Screamin' Jay Hawkins.

"What do you know, my favorite song," I added grinning, and shook my head beginning to walk away from the two men, only to be stopped by Erik gripping my arm tightly. I leveled him with an icy stare, "Let go of me right now, or I will make you feel pain that you thought was unimaginable," my voice low and threatening.

"Erik..." Charles called warningly.

Erik loosened his grip, freeing my arm slightly, but he made it clear I wasn't going anywhere, "We know you know exactly what you are, and we know what you're capable of. Stop playing coy with us," Erik stated coldly.

"Two strange white men walk into a bar, approach a black woman and accuses her of being a mutant. Forgive me, but you expect me not to find that a bit suspicious," I sassed, before yanking my arm completely out of his grip. I spotted a booth occupied by two men and I walked towards the two men, I gently grasped their chins and looked them in the eyes. "Due to your undying love for me, you two are going to give up your seats," I demanded, manipulating their desires so they reflected my own wishes.

"Of course," one man said eagerly, sliding out of his seat.

"Your wish is my command," the other man stated, getting out of his seat as well.

"Hmm, I know," I smiled, lightly laughing. "Now leave me be," I commanded, shooing them away and the two men nodded their heads and kissed the back of my hands before their departure.

I looked over to Erik and Charles, to see Erik roll his eyes in annoyance and huff before he whispered something to Charles, whose expression was unreadable. Charles and Erik sat in the seat across from me, Erik sat a stiff as a board while Charles seemed relaxed.

I interlocked my fingers together, "Ah, now that is how a gentlemen should behave. I think you should learn from them, Mr. Lehnsherr," I suggested my lips curving into a smirk.

Erik scowled at me, "You never told us your name," he remarked irritated.

"You never asked, Mr. Lehnsherr. Maybe if Mr. Xavier, greeted me properly, you would know," I countered, looking between the two men. "Although, something tells me that you two already know," I added, arching my brow and leaning forward.

"Miss...Claudia Walker, am I right?" Charles asked.

I quickly glanced at Erik and it seemed like he had one eye concentrated on me whilst the other was focused at the crowd in the club.

I focused back on Charles, "You would be correct," I replied, lapsing back into an easy lean. "How exactly did you two find me?" I asked curiously.

"Well, I was in Cerebro-" Charles began.

"Cerebro?" I interjected, scrunching my eyebrows together in confusion.

"It's a machine that helps me locate people like us," Charles explained, he was way too excited to answer my question. He was almost bubbling with excitement. "I was surprised to find you. Your signature was so strong, powerful, which intrigued me. I quickly got your coordinates and here we are," Charles finished happily.

"You certainly didn't make it easy," Erik mentioned, in a slight annoyed tone.

"Hardly, you two are here now aren't you?" I questioned, my tone was playful and I could tell that it was grating Erik's nerves.

"Really? So my eyes weren't playing tricks on me yesterday?" he questioned, as he leaned forward slightly.

"Depends on what you saw," I quipped, a small smile beginning to show.

"I saw you start that brawl. The way your hand curled and your eyes narrowed, you made that skinny man kick the fat, bald one in his groin," Erik remarked, his own mouth curving as he smirked. "You nearly got us entangled in that predicament," he added, looking at me with his piercing eyes.

Not looking away I smiled dangerously, "Yeah that was me," I admitted with a shrug. "I had an inkling that was someone was following me yesterday, I just didn't know it was you two. Whoops," I commented, my voice dripping with sarcasm and shrugged my shoulders again.

"Well, speaking of powers, you know my power. And we would very much like to know all about yours, Miss Walker," Charles started.

"Please, call me Claudia," I started. "I'll demonstrate my powers, but Mr. Grumpy over there has to show me his first," I proposed, flicking my chin out, motioning towards Erik.

Erik's eyes met were now fully focused on me again and I returned his stare.

Charles smiled and leaned forward, his elbows on the table, "Erik has the ability to manipulate metal,"

I narrowed my eyes at Erik and he glared at me in return. He would be very powerful, even with the tiniest bit of metal he would be able to kill someone with the flick of his hand.

"What's that old phrase again?" I asked aloud, tilting my head up as if I was pondering the question. "Oh, that's right. Seeing is believing," I finished, looking back at Erik, raising my eyebrow in challenge.

Erik raised his eyebrows as well, before focusing his eyes on the cutlery in front of him. Nothing happened for a while before they started shaking and eventually they lifted off the table. My eyebrows raised as I stared at the floating knives and forks.

"Do you believe now?" Erik asked, and I could see a ghost of a smirk.

"Well, I'll be damned," I gasped smirking, as I watched the utensils gracefully land back on the table.

"There you go," Erik said. "We showed you ours, now show us yours,"

I sat up in my seat and reached a hand across the table and turned it palm up, "Mr. Xavier, would you be so kind to give me your hand?" I asked.

"Call me Charles, please," Charles replied, sliding his own hand into mine without a moment's hesitation, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Erik grimace.

"You’re too trusting by half, Charles," Erik commented, shaking his head.

I closed my fingers gently around Charles', and slowly a broad, blissful smile stretched across his face as I channeled sensations of contentment into him.

"An empath," he breathed. "My, that's...mmm, that's lovely," Charles laughed, I smirked as I slid my hand back across the table, and Charles took a moment to compose himself.

"Want to see something else?" I asked grinning.

"Yes, please!" Charles exclaimed, grinning back excitedly.

I focused my gaze on one of the knives on table, and narrowed my eyes in concentration. A purple aura surrounded the knife as it raised itself off of the table and floated in mid-air and I maneuvered it to have the blade facing Erik as Charles watched, fascinated at the display I was putting on.

"Remarkable," Charles breathed.

"You’re telekinetic," Erik stated boredly, snatching the knife out of the air by the handle.

"I am," I replied, looking at Erik. "Now, you two are going to tell me why I've been performing tricks like I'm in some circus show," I demanded, glancing between the two men in front of me.

Charles laughed, "You have amazing gifts, a mutation, an ability. Erik and I are recruiting people to help us and in the process you get to learn how to control your powers,"

"Recruiting?" I asked confused, looking at them suspiciously. "For what?"

"That is what we're here to talk to you about," Charles said, sensing the sudden guarded tone in my voice. His eyes held mine in an intense stare. "A war is upon us, Claudia,"

"Yes, I know. The one between the Soviets and America, everyone knows that," I stated, now leaning back into my seat. My mind was reeling at where the conversation was going. Charles nodded firmly. "But what has that got to do with mutants? Or me, more specifically?"

"One of the agents at the CIA discovered a plot, the spark that lit the fire for the nuclear war," This time, it was Erik that had spoken. His soft yet gruff voice flooded into my ears with its tough resonance. "She had gone undercover to see one of the American Colonel's getting pressured into installing missiles into Turkey. That was the first step to angering the Soviets, and they are planning to retaliate. From what she had described, it had been a mutant who was threatening the Colonel,"

"A mutant?" I questioned. "But why?"

"We have no idea as of yet," Charles offered, leaning back into his seat as well.

It was obvious to me that Charles was troubled by the fact that a fellow mutant would want to start a war between two powerful nations.

"Well, do you know who the mastermind is behind all of this?" I asked again, raising an eyebrow.

"Sebastian Shaw," Erik spat, the venom clear in his words. A frown was etched deep into his forehead and his eyes were glaring at the coffee table, as though willing it to break under the hatred burning in his cold blue orbs.

By the way I could sense the hatred coming from Erik's emotions, he was an enemy. A big one.

"So that's why you're recruiting people? Like me?" I asked.

"We're planning to stop Shaw before he could escalate this conflict any further. He has got his own army of mutants to help him," Charles replied. "We need ours," Charles finished.

I ran my hand down my face, closing my eyes and breathed out deeply. This was not how I planned my night going, these two men walk up to me, telling me how they are like me and need my help to prevent World War III. This was a lot for me to take in, in such a short period of time. I mentally made two lists, negative and positive. Positive points: Learn to hone my powers, meet other people like me and this was probably the only chance for me to fit in and have something. Negative points: This could be a trap and if it wasn't a trap my powers could probably kill someone else.

"Give this a chance," Charles' voice urged gently, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I opened my eyes and staring at the two men, Charles and Erik staring back at me. Charles looked at me patiently and Erik looked like as though he had just proven something to Charles.

I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear and took a deep breath, "While this sounds very dire and adventurous, I can't," I answered shaking my head. "Why should I come? I have a perfectly good life right now, with a decent paying job. I don't want to be involved in any war,"

"What?" Erik started, raising an eyebrow. "You don't just charm your way out of everything?" Erik asked mockingly.

I looked at Erik pointedly and glared, "No, actually. Having everything handed to you, makes life quite boring," I retorted.

"We've already spoken to your boss about it," Charles chimed in. "He's willing to grant you an indefinite period of leave from work. Or at least until the whole thing is over," he explained.

"He agreed?" I balked, thinking back to the measly, overweight doctor who had many a times refused to grant me my annual break, unless I used my powers on him.

Charles smiled, "The words 'government' and 'CIA' can be very convincing in situations such as these,"

"He must think me to be some criminal or spy now," I muttered more to myself, before scowling up at the two when I realized what they had done. "You guys move fast. What if I didn't want to join your little team?"

"You'll get your job back," Charles shrugged his shoulders. "Your boss wouldn't even remember meeting anyone by the names of Charles Xavier or Erik Lehnsherr," He tapped his fingers against his temple with a proud smile.

"How convenient, but even if I agree to join you, my life will never be the same. I will be ostracized even more than I already am," I reasoned.

"You don't think the public will accept you?" Charles questioned.

"Charles, please tell me that you’re not this naive?" I asked back. "I don't know how you folks do it across the sea. But Charles, look at me, I am a black woman in America, I'm barely accepted now and I live in the northern part of America. Why would they accept me? Black people are being murdered for the color of their skin since this country was founded. People in the past have been killed for being different. Just look what happened with the Jews and Hitler," I pointed out.

I could feel Erik's mind radiating with anger. I frowned and when I looked up and saw Erik's face. He looked like he stuck in between an inner battle with himself.

"I think humans will accept us sooner or later," Charles stated optimistically.

"Perhaps, that remains to be seen. They don't even accept humans with a different skin color," I countered. Momentarily, a silence fell over us before I spoke up and broke it. "Just to be clear, this isn't some sort of a trap? You two aren't trying to experiment on me?" I asked in a serious tone. "And the CIA and African-Americans do not have the best history, so promise me that they won't try to assassinate me and label me as some black radical," I added.

Charles looked slightly amused, but shook his head, "No, we won't hurt you and the CIA won't hurt you, I promise," Charles reassured, and I nodded then stood up.

I was probably going to regret this.

"I'll...help you guys," I began.

"Thank you, Claudia," Charles interjected gently.

"But, let's be clear that doesn't mean I trust you. We've only just met," I explained, glancing at the two of them.

"Completely understandable, Claudia," Charles replied, nodding his head.

"One more condition, if you want my help," I stated, and Erik scoffed and I glared at him.

"This should be interesting," Erik drawled.

I looked back at Charles, "You have to promise me, if I occasionally let my mental shield down, you will not look inside my mind," I demanded.

Charles looked quite stunned, "Of course. But can I ask, how can you block me out? You're not a telepath,"

My gaze hardened again, "I once knew someone who was,"

Chapter Two: Division X

#x-men fanfiction #black fanfiction #x-men fanfic #charles xavier fanfiction #charles xavier x oc #black!oc #magneto x oc #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr fanfiction #erik lehnsherr x oc #erik lehnsherr x reader #charles xavier x reader #black!reader #x men fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

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tiredb0igivemesugars · 3 years

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The Best Christmas

Summary: the reader doesn’t like Christmas but their boyfriend Peter wants them to have the best Christmas ever.

Pairing: gender neutral!reader x Peter Parker

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: some swearing, drunkness and sexual themes mentioned.

Notes: So it has literally been forever since I posted anything but here’s a little something for Christmas. Sorry for any errors!

The last school day before Christmas break starts was officially over. Walking home now in the cold New York weather, you could see how your school got smaller and smaller. You dragged your feet along the pavement. The weather had been unsteady for the week, going as low as 20 on the coldest days, there were a few warmer days after those, causing the snow to melt and create very slippery ice all over the place. It was snowing again, a thin layer of snow already covering the ice. The small rocks that were spread across the streets to make them less slippery were your source of entertainment for the way home. You kicked the small rocks forward with your dragging feet, creating long marks on the snow, you smiled to yourself. It was nice to have a break from school since who the hell likes school, but you weren’t that thrilled about Christmas. You had been called the grinch by your friends as a joke since you pretty much hated Christmas, you just didn’t get it. The whole idea of it. Your boyfriend Peter on the other hand was the most Christmas person you had ever met, he was asking you what you want for Christmas in September for christ’ sake. Peter had been shocked when he found out that you didn’t celebrate Christmas and he made it his life mission to make you have the best Christmas in your life. Speaking of Christmas presents, you had no idea what to get Peter, you tried to ask your friends and even some of the Avengers what you could get him, but all of the ideas seemed rather silly and unnecessary. You would personally love something useful for Christmas and honestly, a useful present seemed the best and safest, which begged the question: ”What does Peter need?”

”Y/n!” You heard the familiar voice of Peter Parker yell. You turned around to see him sprinting across the ice, making no effort in not trying to fall, which he did do. He fell, flew across the air towards you before his stomach hit the ground, right by your feet. ”Hi,” was all Peter said when he saw you, now much closer. ”Don’t run on the ice,” you said as you helped Peter stand up and began walking with him. Your hand found its familiar place within Peter’s. ”Any Christmas plans?” Peter asked. You sighed before answering. ”No. Just a regular day for me,” you said, knowing well that Peter was aware of your plans, he must be working on something. ”It’s not a regular day anymore, you’re spending Christmas with me!” Peter exclaimed as he jumped in front of you, almost falling, again. You reached forward a little to help Peter restore his balance and continued your way forward, ”I guess I’ll come since I have nothing better to do. Do I have to wear something nice?” You finally gave in. ”Nothing too nice, like what you’d wear to a job interview,” Peter explained, more calm this time. You nodded.

Peter’s home smelled nice, it always did. Aunt May burned a lot of Christmas scented candles in the apartment, which kind of ruined the original smell of the place, but you didn’t complain. She greeted the two of you by yelling from the kitchen when you entered Peter’s home. ”Hi Aunt May! Y/n is going to stay over for a couple of hours,” Peter yelled. ”Okay, keep the door cracked!” May yelled back. The idea was to study but knowing Peter, you doubted it. You could maybe be able to do one math equation and read one chapter of some subject before Peter came up with something else. Last week it was you throwing something at him while he had his eyes closed, the idea behind this was to test his spidey-sense. But this week, it was going to be something different, you could see it in him. When he sat a little closer to you than usual on the floor when he loomed over you for a little longer as he reached over you to grab a book. You were sure of it when he placed a hand on your thigh. ”Peter,” you finally said, not really knowing how you were going to continue. You had kissed before, made out, dry humped each other, but you had a feeling Peter was after more today. You weren’t opposed to the idea, but his aunt was home, his door wasn’t even closed. Peter closed the book that was laid out in front of you and threw it somewhere in the room. He sat before you, his hand now on your cheek, caressing it. ”What?” He answered, looking almost smug. ”What are you after?” You asked, staring at him with tired eyes. ”Do I need to be after something if I want to kiss my darling?” Peter asked, trying to act innocent. You smiled a little, finding it heartwarming when he called you darling. ”Okay fine, but just one kiss. Then we’ll continue with our homework,” you gave in. Peter smiled as he placed his lips on yours, now both hands framing your face.

You returned the kiss, letting Peter’s tongue enter your mouth, but not too much. You felt Peter’s other hand leave your face, grabbing your waist. He pulled you towards him, that’s when you broke off. ”No I’m not going to sit in your lap, I’ll crush you,” you whined, already knowing you’d gone too far, now things needed finishing. Peter blew a raspberry with his mouth as he pulled you into his lap ”I’ve been crushed by a building before. You’re a feather,” he said as he sweetly kissed your cheek. You tried to support your weight with your knees, but Peter noticed what you were doing and made you settle down. ”Peter I’m going to get take out, what do you guys want?” May yelled from the front door. Peter looked at you, waiting for you to tell him what you wanted. ”Just something with chicken is fine,” you almost whispered. ”Lot’s of chicken, all they can spare!” Peter yelled, earning a small smack from you. The front door closed, May had left, leaving you two alone.

Peter’s lips returned to yours, now hungrier. His hands roamed you up and down your sides. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Your fingers tugged on his hair. He eventually moved from your mouth to your neck, breathing heavily he nibbled on your neck, you were glad you brought a scarf along. It was like electricity, shooting throughout your body. You didn’t even realise what kind of noises you were letting out until Peter called your name. ”What?” You asked, out of breath. ”The bed,” he said, more of a question even if it wasn’t structured in that way. Before you had the chance to even think about what to answer, the front door opened. You immediately sprinted out of Peter’s lap to sit on the bed, as far away from Peter as possible to catch your breath. ”Peter! Y/n! I’m back. They, unfortunately, said that they can’t give me all their chicken but I got enough for a family of five so come dig in!” Aunt May yelled as she swung through the apartment to place to food on the table. ”Yeah we’ll be out in a minute,” Peter yelled. You both needed a minute, you needed a scarf.

Once your heart rate had gone down enough, you stood up and grabbed the scarf from your bag. ”You ready?” You asked Peter who was still sat on the floor. Peter smiled as he jumped up and grabbed your hand and led you into the kitchen. Peter and May had a full-blown conversation, which might’ve been an argument, it was hard to tell but they laughed at one point so maybe not. May asked you about your Christmas plans, you explained that it was nothing special, not sure if it was okay to tell May that you had been invited to spend Christmas with Peter.

Peter walked you back home around eight. Happy was coming to get you at 5 PM the next day, that’s what Peter told you. You kissed him goodbye outside before going in. It was time to worry about what to get Peter. You stayed up late, thinking. At 2 in the morning, you got the idea, sure it was sappy but it was something. You immediately emailed a shop asking if your order would be ready to be picked up at 4 PM the next day, you knew that there was probably no hope for you to get it but at least you tried. You went to sleep around 5, beyond exhausted. You set an alarm for 3 PM so you had time to shower and get ready. When you woke up that afternoon you were shocked to find that they had answered to your email, you were happy that your boyfriend had a generic name. You agreed to pick up the bracelet with Peter's name carved to it at 4 PM.

To say that you were nervous would be an understatement, your hands were so sweaty and they were shaking. Most of the anxiousness luckily washed away when you saw Peter in the backseat of Happy's car, he came to knock on your door. "May has to work today so it's just the two of us with Mr Stark and the others," Peter smiled when you opened the door. "Oh, okay," was all you said, not sure how you were feeling. The car ride went along smoothly if you didn't count the extra 30 minutes that you were stuck in traffic. Peter had suited himself to black pants and a sleeveless sweater over a white button-up, hair slicked back. You had found a pair of plaid pants in your wardrobe and paired them with a sweatshirt, not forgetting to put a turtle neck under the shirt. "You look adorable," Peter said when he got a better look at your outfit outside the Stark residence. You blushed, also complimenting his outfit.

Thor was by the door waiting for two of you. "Spider and y/n, you're here! Took you long enough!" He said as soon as you two got closer to him. "We got stuck in traffic," Peter said as he led up inside, following Thor. He engaged himself in the conversation with Thor, leaving you to take in the sight of a house fully covered in decorations. Pepper must really love Christmas, you thought to yourself. Every avenger and non-avenger were there, you believe you even saw a glimpse of Nick Fury. Steve was drunk in the living room having a heated conversation with Falcon. Hawkeye, Bucky and Natasha were somewhere else, probably up to no good. Tony and Pepper were in the kitchen trying to get the final details for the dinner. "Y/n! Peter! You arrived!" Steve yelled from the living room. "Wanna go place the presents under the tree?" Peter asked as he turned towards you, you nodded. You had only gotten a present for Peter, and seeing the pile of presents by the tree you began to regret your decision. Maybe you should've gotten everyone a gift.

"Dinner!" Pepper yelled before you could voice your concerns to Peter. You sat next to Peter, opposite of an empty place. The long table was filled except for that one seat. Tony and Pepper on the ends of the long table, Peter on Tony's left side, Nick Fury opposite to him. Pepper had Morgan by her side along with Bruce. You eyed the table, everyone was there, except for... "Where's Loki?" you asked, wanting to see your friend. You liked how cynical he was, he understood your jokes too, even if he didn't really like you, at least that's how you felt. "He'll show, he always does," Tony said.

He wasn't wrong, Loki did show, in the empty seat opposite of you. Everyone indulged themselves with the delicious cooking that was made by Pepper. "Tony hates cooking, loathes the kitchen, but Christmases, you have to drag the man out!" Pepper exclaimed, causing a wave of laughter to go through the table. "I don't understand this," Loki said, mostly to himself. "Neither do I, never did," you said to him. He turned to look at you, surprised you heard him. "I understand this feast but this "holiday" goes beyond me," Loki continued. "Tell me about it!" You said, happy to have found someone who shared your frustration.

Both of you got lost in the conversation, almost losing the track of time. You had moved on from the dinner to dessert, now you were all just sitting and chatting, soon to be retrieved into the living room. "I mean gifts! It's so hard to buy people gifts!" You complained. Loki said something about gifts too, but you didn't hear what since there was suddenly yelling happening. Drunk Steve was picking a fight with Natasha. "Why is he drunk?" You asked Peter. "He doesn't like Christmas," Tony answered before Peter had the chance to. "And from what I gather, you don't either," Tony said. "It's just not my holiday. We've never celebrated it in my family," you explained as plainly as you could. "You never told me that you have never even had a Christmas!" Peter suddenly yelled.

Suddenly everyone was turned to you. "You've never had a Christmas?" Pepper asked, shocked. "What? It's just Christmas," you said, feeling how your face was changing colour from the attention. "But we have to open presents now then," Pepper continued. Everyone rose from the table. Bucky with a little hop in his steps, he liked Christmas, he was even wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. Morgan absolutely demanded to be the one to give out the presents. You wanted to ask if Morgan needed help with reading the names but decided against it. She was Tony Stark's kid, for all you knew she could already be taking college classes. When she first read your name and came to give you the present you just thought it was the one Peter got you, but by the time she was bringing out the fifth present you were already overwhelmed. "Why do I have so many presents?" You asked Peter who sat next to you on the shared armchair. "What do you mean many? You only got five so far," Peter whispered. "So far? How many am I getting?" You asked, panic evident in your voice. "I'm guessing everyone got you a gift so do the math," Peter said, not really understanding why you were freaking out. "I only got you a gift this is so embarrassing!" you mumbled into your hands.

Peter put his arm over your shoulders to offer you some comfort. "It's okay. I didn't give a present to everyone either. We can say that the presents I gave are from both of us," Peter said. Peter was too kind. Way too kind.

You ended up with almost 20 gifts, which was impossible to comprehend for your brain. You had so far gotten two sweaters, a book, chocolate, a pair of new sneakers and Tony had gifted you a phone. Suddenly you felt Peter hugging you. "What is it?" You asked, confused. "Your gift," Peter said, showing the bracelet. "Oh this silly thing, I just didn't know what else to give. Do you like it?" You asked. Peter stared at the bracelet. "I love it, thank you so much," he said and pressed a kiss on your cheek. "Look, if you turn it around it has "I love you" carved in morse code," you pointed out. You helped Peter put it on before you returned to opening your gifts. You could hear Morgan yell as she ran through the living room, happy that she got the gift she had wanted. Peter's gift ended up in your hands, you knew it was Peter's since he couldn't wrap things for shit.

When the wrapping paper revealed a notebook you knew that tears would flow. Your hands shook as you turned each page, examining each page with care. A picture of the two of you, date and a small note. Maybe what you had done together that day, maybe just something sweet. You saw as your tears wet the pages of the notebook. What did you ever do to deserve a boyfriend like Peter? You closed the book, not wanting to bawl your eyes out in front of everyone. Peter's hand wrapped around yours. "Did you like it?" he asked. "You're an asshole. But yes, I liked it," you said and kissed Peter's cheek.

Tony went to put Morgan to sleep later, after that it was just calm "adult talk". Steve was sleeping on the couch, taking the whole space but their friends could care less and sat on top of the sleeping Steve. You and Peter reigned over the armchair, you found a nice place under Peter's shoulder, your arms wrapped around his middle. "Thank you for giving me my best Christmas," you said to Peter, trying to say it without anyone hearing. "Your only Christmas," Peter corrected. You smiled. "But still, it's the only, the best and I love you," you said, trying to keep the moment serious. "I love you too," Peter said and kissed you. It was a sweet, loving kiss, tasted like brandy.

Maybe Christmases weren't so bad after all.

#marvel #oneshot #peter parker #peter parker x reader #x gender neutral reader #christmas #peter parker fluff #imagine #The Avengers #happy

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datheetjoella · 4 years

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Fantober 2020, Day 22: Demon/Angel

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Part: 22/31 (read the full collection here) Word count: 1,612 Tags: Canonverse, Established Relationship, Fluff, Filters, References to Sexual Content Read at: AO3, FFn, or right here!

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Fresh out of the bath, Haruka walked back into the room. Makoto was sitting on the bed with his back against the wall, engrossed in his phone.

"The bath's free," Haruka said, but Makoto didn't respond. Instead, he opened his mouth slowly, not saying a word, then he chuckled under his breath. With a frown, Haruka went over to him and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Oh, Haru!" Makoto said as though he hadn't even noticed he was here. He patted the mattress next to him. "Come sit. I want to show you something."

Haruka plopped down beside him and scooted over until their thighs touched. When he peered onto Makoto's screen, he frowned. The front-facing camera was open and he stared back at his own face. He didn't quite understand what was so remarkable about this. "What?"

"Now open your mouth slowly."

Another incredulous look was sent Makoto's way, but Haruka did as he was told and let his jaw slacken. Instantly, a rainbow waterfall cascaded from his mouth while his eyes grew big and his cheeks were tinged pink. The furrow between Haruka's eyebrows deepened. "What is this?"

Although they'd had their smartphones for almost half a year, Haruka still didn't understand all the functions it had. There were only a handful of things he used and the camera was one of them, but he had never seen this before.

"It's an app that puts filters over your face so you can take pictures or videos with it," Makoto explained, "You know my friend, Hayami-chan, who posts a lot of sparkly selfies on social media? She was taking some earlier when we were studying, so I asked her how she gets those effects on her pictures and she showed me this app. I've been playing with the filters while you were in the bath and some of them are pretty funny. Here, look."

Makoto swiped through the little images at the bottom and selected another filter. Dog ears and a nose adorned his and when he opened his mouth again, a tongue appeared on the screen. Haruka still thought it was a bit silly, but this one was kind of cute. Not that he would ever admit that.

"And look, it stays on your face even as you move around."

"This one suits you," Haruka said, biting his bottom lip to suppress a smile, "Nagisa was right after all."

"About what?"

"That you're like a golden retriever."

"In that case, this one is perfect for you." Makoto tapped on the search bar and typed something. When he pointed the phone back at Haruka, his whole face was replaced by a cat one that was, unlike Makoto's cartoon dog features, incredibly realistic. The stripes of fur moved along with his expression and the eyes blinked when he did.

"Now this is just terrifying," Haruka said with a snort.

"I quite like it," Makoto said with a cheeky grin. "It's cute. My two loves combined into one."

That made Haruka seriously question both Makoto's taste and his sanity. "How is this amalgamation anything but creepy? This is actual nightmare fuel."

"If you hate it that much, I'll pick out another one for you," Makoto said, "How about this one, a flower crown? Oh, or this one, a halo with angel wings. These are nice, right?"

They were better than the cat filter, but that didn't say much. While Haruka didn't see the fun in it, Makoto seemed to be enjoying himself. As long as he was happy, Haruka would gladly play along. "Do they have an Iwatobi-chan filter?"

A cheerful laugh left Makoto's lips. "I don't think so. You'd have to be the one to create it if you want one."

"Too much effort," Haruka said with a shake of his head. "What about a mermaid filter?"

"Hm, I'm not sure," Makoto mumbled as he thumbed through the options. "I would say no because most of these are aimed to use on your face, not your whole body. I'll ask Hayami-chan about it the next time I see her."

Haruka nodded, then he reached onto the screen. "What's this?" he asked; the preview picture was too small for him to make out what kind of filter it was.

"It's the devil filter," Makoto said as he pressed onto the image. As expected, two red horns popped up between his brown locks. "When Hayami-chan was showing me earlier, my friends said this one suits me."

The crease between Haruka's thin eyebrows returned at that. "How so?"

"They said I look and act so sweet that I must be hiding a secret, demonic side and that the filter is a reflection of my true nature," Makoto said in a spooky tone, but he ended it with a giggle that broke the spell.

Haruka had to summon every bit of self-restraint not to scoff at that. If there was any filter that reflected Makoto's true nature - besides the dog face - it was the angel one. "That's ridiculous. Your friends clearly don't know you as well as they think."

"What, you don't think I have a darker side to me?"

"No?" Haruka said, confused as to why Makoto sounded offended when he was defending him. "You couldn't even pretend to be evil when we were making the swim club recruitment film."

"It wasn't that I couldn't pretend to be evil, I was just nervous about acting in general," Makoto said, discarding his phone on the duvet, "Besides, Shizuru-kun thought my evil king was convincing."

"And he was the only person who thought that," Haruka said, "Makoto, you were crying this morning while watching a cat video. Does that sound like something a person with a dark side would do?"

"But it was so sad and cute!" Makoto said, "At first, it seemed like the kitten wasn't going to make it, but everyone took such good care of her that she made a full recovery. Isn't that heartwarming?"

The tears that welled up as Makoto recalled it did not support his case. "I'm pretty sure my point stands."

"I can be devilish," Makoto insisted as he crossed his arms, "Want me to show you?"

"Sure," Haruka said, curious to see what Makoto would come up with to prove himself. "Show me all you've got."

Before Haruka could as much as blink, he found himself pinned to the mattress by his wrists, arms raised over his head. His jaw plunged in surprise as Makoto hovered over him, a sly smirk wickifying his features, but he didn't want to admit defeat just yet. So he shot Makoto a challenging look back.

Makoto's expression didn't shift as he moved one hand from Haruka's wrists to his belly and, without a second of hesitation, started to tickle him. This was a low blow, but Haruka wouldn't give in that easily. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing and stared right back into Makoto's eyes.

Alas, this was a battle Haruka was doomed to lose, for Makoto knew all his most ticklish spots. After a solid minute of tensing his abs, he couldn't hold back any longer. Loud laughter erupted from his stomach and he kicked his legs.

"Stop! Makoto!" he managed to get out between fits of giggles, desperately trying to break free. "Stop!"

As nefarious as he was, Makoto quit the instant Haruka told him to. With a self-satisfied grin, he sat back. "Well, how was that?"

"This does not count," Haruka said when he caught his breath. "This is teasing at best, not devilish. People tickle each other all the time but that doesn't mean they have a dark side."

"Oh, so you want something of a higher caliber?" Makoto said, scratching his chin as if in deep thought. He leaned over Haruka again, reclaimed his hold on his wrists and lowered his face next to Haruka's left ear. In a low, husky voice he murmured, "You want to see my true, sinful nature?"

The words in combination with his hot breath fanning against his ear shell and neck sent goosebumps down Haruka's spine, spreading tingles across his body. Now this was the type of sinful he could get behind. "As sinful as can be."

Makoto didn't need to be told twice. He stroked his fingertips lightly over the inside of Haruka's bare arms, down his torso to his thighs. Then, he spread Haruka's legs and lined up their hips, his face inches removed from Haruka's.

Haruka's heart pounded faster and faster with anticipation as Makoto's hands played with the hem of his pyjama pants. Makoto's nose brushed against his, their lips only a whisper apart. All the while Makoto didn't break their eye-contact and a look that was more than familiar to Haruka shone in his hooded green irises.

Just when their lips were about to connect in a passionate kiss, Makoto was gone.

Confused, Haruka pushed himself up on his elbows and watched as Makoto leisurely strolled to the bathroom. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to shower. I'll be taking a while, so you don't have to wait up for me and can go to sleep first. Good night."

With that, he shut the door behind him.

This had to be a joke. He couldn't leave Haruka here like this. Surely whatever he had in mind before was much more fun than taking a shower.

Haruka waited for Makoto to come back, but when he heard the faint sound of dripping water, he realised what had happened.

With a loud, frustrated groan, Haruka grabbed a pillow and slapped it over his face.

Perhaps Makoto's friends knew him pretty well after all.

#i'm sorry i'm stupid #makoharu #makoharu fic #my fic #fantober2020 #colourful days with you

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k347 · 4 years

Text

A little note for all the wonderful people who are taking a moment out of their precious time to visit this little online space I created...

(I felt the need to write this because of some 'not so great' anon asks I've been getting ever since I started here and also because I've witnessed several of both, the good and bad fandom meltdowns in these couple of years)

From My Heart To Yours-

If it isn't clear to you by the kind of things I post or if you are new to this page, let me clarify it in one single sentence. This Is A Stucky+Evanstan Blog. There will always be mostly (if not all) evanstan and stucky content posted here. If you are uncomfortable with the ship, feel free to filter the 'evanstan' / 'rpf'/ stucky tags. I completely understand why it can be bothersome, icky for people, why some of you might disapprove of it. I acknowledge, respect and understand your views, feelings and opinions, I truly do. All I am asking out of you is to not be disrespectful, dissmissive about those of mine. Please understand that you don't have to see the things/content you don't want to on your dash. The block and unfollow buttons, options for filtering tags are there for a reason. Feel free to use them if you are uncomfortable with a blog or person (including me). It'll be taking the high road and bowing out gracefully if you make a habit of using these available options instead of passing around judgements and unnecessarily cruel critisism about people whom you've never even met/ know nothing about.

Personally I adore both of these Fandom Ships. I have for a long time. But it doesn't mean I don't support you if you love/are a part of some other fandom. I don't mean to disrespect or hinder any of the other ships even if they are regarding these same characters. I try and make sure to not intrude on anyone's creative space and expect that the same attitude & decency will be returned.

This blog is my way of letting out, expressing all that love, adoration I feel. I strive to be more creative with my thoughts, my way of expression as a person with each passing day. And being a part of this fandom helps me immensely with that. I've met some amazing people online because of this. Made good friends. It is a very dear thing to me. I have talked to folks who've experienced online hate from unreasonable, anonymous sources, I've also experienced a fair share of it myself. As someone who is a psychology-enthusiast-&-student-for-life, I can assure you the (good/casual/neutral/bad/hateful) things you say to or about people leave their impacts. Not just on them, but on you too. It might seem insignificant or small, irrelevant even; but it does change the way your thoughts work in daily life. Be careful and stop before you train your mind to naturally focus more on the bad things about other people rather than the good ones. So again, I kindly request you to not be mean or hurtful to anyone you meet online (or even in real life, actually.) Offering disrespect and negativity never made anything better in the history of ever.

Lastly I would like to give my two cents about another issue (that I feel can get really toxic if we are not careful) with the fandom culture. I have made no secret of the fact that I am a fan of Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans. Yes, I have and will always post a lot of appreciation posts about them (solo and together), their works and projects, some old tbt moments. You will even find imagines, headcanons, theories, fanfics about them along with the ones about the fictional characters they have played/continue to play.

But that doesn't mean I am going to act delusionally and ignore/ unacknowledge the fact that both of them are their own person. Two actual, real human beings. I don't mean to project any of this content that I am creating on them and their lives. Making anybody uncomfortable is not my intention behind doing this, not at all. I prefer to look at it this way- "This is a world that I've created in my own mind. For fun and entertainment. Sort of like an AU. Parallel Timeline. But please understand that the stories, theories, things I'll post and write on here are pure conjecture, a lot of speculations. Hypothesis and supposition. I don't want to lose the grasp on reality and be drawned in it too much or completely, up to the point at which violation of real people's boundaries starts to become a usual routine and doesn't feel wrong."

I do not agree with the mentality of blaming, hating on people/past partners in their lives for no other apparent reason than the fact that 'they know my favs'. I completely agree that there are actions and things which people need to be held accountable for at times. Yes, you can talk about it with me but please try and remain respectful (if not that, at least be decent enough) toward all the parties involved.

Even though we as fans have invested a lot of our time, creative efforts and emotions in these two men; It does not mean they owe us, or need to explain every part of their personal/professional lives.

Please remember and don't let it be hard for you to accept the fact that these two people are not the exact fanfic versions of themselves that you read about on tumblr, they are not some experminted and perfected, flawless personalities that you've created in your own minds. It is possible for humans to mess up at times. It is only natural. Don't judge people based only on their worst mistakes, or more precisely the negative stuff you read 'online' (which 9/10 times is pure speculation and made up. fake. not facts.) Chris and Seb do not need to cater to every whim and need of the fans, they do not need to make decisions based on what people feel about them online. They can and should do whatever they want to with their lives without having to experience judgement and public scrutiny about every little step taken. Please stop putting celebrities on a pedestal and measuring them up to some impossible, unrealistic standards. If you feel too much devastation, hurt over some action of your 'fav', my advice would be to take a step back. Relax. Distance yourself from the Fandom for a bit. Do not let the 'stanning' consume you, your behaviour, rational thought process and most importantly don't let it ruin your kindness.

I love the analogy that there lives a good and a bad wolf inside every human being. Your reactions, response to things, all of it depends on which wolf you decide to feed and empower at the given moment. Choose kindness. Choose gentler responses. Choose Love over Hatred. Always.

I think the lovely @musette22 (who btw, is one of the most compassionate, talented and creative people I've met here, because of our shared love for these boys 💙) voiced this thing better than I ever could.

My apologies, if the note got too long and too deep for your liking.

I promise I am not always this boring and 'let-me-lecture-you' kind of a person 😂

On this Blog you'll also find-

A lot of silly Ramblings, Scribbles and Rants

Lot of terrible jokes and puns (you know the kind where they are so bad that they're good😅)

Fluff and smut

Q and A with the anons.

AUs

Speculations, ideas and a lot of gushing

Reblogs from all these great, talented, amazing people in the fandom

A lot of 'Marvel' things

Incorrectly placed correct quotes

Sometimes extreme use of emoticons and gifs

😂♥️😄🔥😜👻💌💦💪😇🤷

Running commentary, discussions about newly released information, keeping tracks, meltdowns, breakdowns, again rambling! , ocassional full doses of sarcasm

Sometimes going 'too much in detail' 😉

My attempts at writing stuff

A lot of content for Evanstan and Stucky

Drawing parallels, a lot of 'connecting the dots' between Chris and Seb content. Weaving the pieces of informations together.

Headcanons and stories inspired from that.

Low key, actually at times very very high key roasting of Endgame.

Lots and lots of love + appreciation showered on the movies in Captain America Triology.

Getting nostalgic and adoring the good old memories, Celebrating the present moments and Wishing for many more happy ones in the future.

All of you are very welcome here!

My ask box is always open for anyone and everyone who is interested. Send asks, questions, prompts, requests, suggetions, your ideas, theories anytime you want.

I am always up for conversations and discussions.

Lots of Love,

@k347

💙

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danddymaro · 4 years

Text

Sunshine |Revolver Ocelot X Reader

-╮( ꒪౪꒪)╭

Ocelot is one fine man.

And of course, I’m not gonna bash sweet, little Quiet here.

BTW It’s still the same concept as the other MGSV things I've posted, simply because it’s just easier for me to start with a clean slate on a character, especially one who is a reader insert.

Sunshine

Cold droplets fell from the grayed sky, raining down on to mother base with great generosity. Large puddles were created as a result of the ongoing downpour, one's the young (h/c) haired woman had stepped over as she ventured out from her small, yet comforting room.

"There's so much rain..." She said with a small smile, not at all troubled.

It had seemed like there was no end to the falling globs of clear moisture, but at the very least they became tame as more time progressed, calming into gentle showers, ones that were more inviting than the previous large bits that fell.

Rolling her sleeve back (f/n) let her hand creep beyond the protection of the roof, letting the wet coolness touch her skin with her smile remaining unmoved.

'I love the rain,' She thought to herself, wiggling her fingers, letting the wetness glide past them.

She loved the rain, and of course, aside from her, there was someone else who adored the same downpour she did...

'Quiet...'

(f/n) thought of her more and more, so much so that whenever the precipitation came, she was the first thing that came to mind.

Because the green-eyed silent beauty also loved the rain, and she always showed appreciation for the showers, accepting the falling moisture which drenched her, enveloping her with life she had come to find oh so precious.

A familiar helicopter then approached the vicinity, hovering high above the LZ to land, and at the sight (f/n) beamed.

'I guess he's back now,' she thought happily, adding more to the joy she had felt a few moments prior.

Curious, she watched as the door opened to reveal the brunette female which had accompanied V staring out onto nature's shower.

There hadn't seemed to be a moment of thought before she stepped out, worry-free of a harsh crash. Quiet then fell from the sky, descending like a weightless feather, gracefully falling onto the wet ground. And of course, she played with the falling rain, her joyous dance having been one the (h/c) woman had witnessed before.

But unlike any other time before, (f/n) watched wide-eyed as Snake joined along.

At first, it didn't seem that it had been his intention, but the silent woman coerced him. With little effort, she convinced him to play in the mindlessness, to forget about everything else on the outside of their bubble of glee.

(e/c) eyes watched, unable to move, unable to gaze away, no matter how much her heart had clenched at the sight. She felt the muscle become well-wrung, like a dampened towel being twisted and turned dry, and she knew she probably should have looked away, pretending as though she hadn't seen a single second of it, but it was near impossible.

Her small smile slowly died, and the world began to grow silent and still for her.

By then, nothing but the two returning people existed.

It was just Snake and Quiet, as well as her still-beating heart, struggling to stay alive through it all.

Immersed, she didn't hear the steps come from behind her, nor the presence of the man that had come to join her, eyes trained on the same sight hers had been.

"Well, would you look at that, " the deep, masculine voice said aloud, the sound coming from behind her, a linger of astoundment and overall amusement present in his tone as he made himself known to the (h/c) young woman.

The platinum blonde male stopped his steps entirely, standing right beside her as he gazed down at the playful act, just as she had been doing so, easily coming to the same conclusion she had.

"They seem to have taken a liking to each other... Getting along better than I expected," Ocelot mused, a hand holding his chin as he seemed to smile coyly.

Moving just her eyes, the woman took notice of his expression, swallowing down her bitter spit.

'It's not just me then,' (f/n) thought dryly, knowing she wasn't just seeing things where they weren't.

Drawing her eyes back to the pair she drew a shallow breath, " Seems like it... doesn't it?" She said with a forced smile being formed, one that came out lopsided and imperfect, a twitching mess that just couldn't pass as a genuine show of happiness.

All the while, she felt a small pin needle repeatedly jabbing at her heart as she forced the perkier tone to be shoved out her mouth. She felt a stinging pain come from within her chest, an annoying ache she couldn't do away with, which only grew more prominent as she stared on at the pair with glowing envy.

'I'm jealous...I'm jealous and I can't even hide it...'

" In fact, I don't think I've ever seen him actually smile," she said breathlessly, watching the brunette male's scarred face as it showed obvious joy, his smile small, yet notably stunning.

Stunning...beautiful...

'His smile is so lovely,' she thought as she stepped out more, robotically stepping into the rain herself, so immersed into the two brunette's show of affection that she didn't even realize the cold wetness had begun to blanket her, melting over her until she was soaked through.

'I had wanted nothing more than to raise one from you Snake...To get you to relax enough to show me just one...' she continued on. 'And I just knew it would be beautiful,' She mused, her hands falling onto the wet railing as she watched the equally joy-filled woman kick the wet ground playfully.

'- And of course you...' she thought. ' I knew you'd be able to do it...That's what had me terrified of you,'

(f/n)'s shoulders sank more, completely falling as she watched V do the same, responding back to the silly little game.

He seemed so different...so lively...

'He's the same man...' she reminded herself. 'He's the same man...but more open... All because of her...' she continued, placing her focus onto the woman instead, a low, drawn-out sigh leaving her.

Ocelot stepped toward the woman, a long stride of his reaching her quickly, putting him right at her side, unbothered by the downfall as well, his focus more on the (h/c) haired woman.

"You alright there Sunshine?" He asked her, his voice bringing her back from her deep thinking.

He tilted his head slightly as he stared on, fixed on her lovely, wet face.

'Sunshine,' She repeated inwardly.

He was the only one around that called her that...

In fact, he was the only one around that had a nickname for her, it being something special no one else had repeated.

Such an endearing name had been given to her, one that made her feel warmth, something she couldn't deny. Even in the present time when she felt her heart begin to be pulled apart, there was enough strength within it to grow warm.

'No one but you calls me that,' She thought with a shake to her head, a very minuscule smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

'And I've always wondered...Why?

Is there a special reason?'

"Sunshine..." he said again, followed by silence.

A small pause was set between them before he caved, asking something he'd been pondering over for while now,

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" he said softly, questioning her.

As he voiced his suspicion, the young woman's eyes grew wide, only for a fraction of a second before she shut them close, her bottom lip sinking in between her two rows of teeth, shaking her head with denial.

"No..." she muttered weakly, taking in a steady breath.

Her (e/c) eyes then peeled open, falling onto the pair once more, before slowly finding their way to the silver-haired man,

"Why?" she started, "Does it seem that way?" She asked, looking back at him with a half-hearted smile being formed.

Through the white blouse, he watched the outline of her undergarments show, her clothes having become sopping wet, clinging to her skin like a second layer.

And her hair was fully soaked as well, sticking to her face, making him press his lips together firmly,

" Can't help but see it that way," he answered her, answering truthfully.

'Otherwise you wouldn't be out here, looking so down... so heartbroken,'He thought to himself.

For him, it was as clear as day.

But he often wondered what part of him she loved, the man himself, or the legend,

What did she really feel?

She swallowed down a thick wad of spit, " No," she said with another shake to her head, " It's just that they understand each other." She said softly, " Even without speaking to one another, they were able to become so close," she added while she continued to observe the pair, her two hands melting together, palms pressed flat against each other.

"In fact, they seem almost inseparable now," she mused. " Kind of like the ocean and the sky," she continued on with a weary chuckle.

'They go together perfectly...' she added silently.

"You'd think they had a lifetime to build that trust... that level of comfort," she said whilst her fingers found their place between open spaces clasping her hands together. "In truth, I would have loved nothing more..." she trailed off, laying her forehead down onto her clasped hands, more specifically the sides of her thumbs.

It was difficult to get it off her chest, because she wasn't even sure what she felt,

Was she actually in love with Snake?

'I couldn't be...not when...well,' she stopped herself, shaking her head at the other thought that invaded her.

It was easy to simply accept that she was in love with Snake with the level of jealousy she felt, as well as with the amount of hurt she experienced when he paid attention to Quiet instead.

It would have been simple to come to the conclusion, but she knew there was so much more to it.

"I can't lie to you Adam..." she told him, "I would have loved nothing more than to be the one there with him," she revealed while she closed her eyes, finding it just a bit too hard to look at the man she was talking to.

"And I wish I could... " she added on, her voice becoming small, " I just wish I could have done the same," she admitted with a deep exhale, dropping her hands to her sides lazily in a show of frustration.

Her shoulders slumped and she hung her head as she let her confessions slip past her lips, falling onto ears she knew would be open to her.

She was relieved that of all people, Ocelot had been the one to come to her, because there was no doubt in her mind he cared.

If not, then why ask?

If not, then why always be there?

'No one else really bothers,' she mused.

"Even now while feeling such hatred for her, I still admire her," she admitted.

"I wish I could be her..." she went on. " So I could be by him, right there at his side," she said with certainty. "I wish I could be her... so then I could be strong," she explained further,

"- Strong enough to be both his weapon and shield.

Whatever he chooses.

Whatever he needs." She said with a grimace," Strong enough to be able to look him in the eye and to overcome...Overcome...This!" she choked over the last bit, hugging herself.

"If I could have been her, I could have given him a smile," she said while forcing one of her own as she glared down at the floor.

"If I wasn't giving anything else in return then I could at the very least given him that one joy,"

He turned her towards him by using his thumb and index, taking a light hold of her chin and lifting it up.

"If I could have been her, I would have found a way to be useful and thank him for taking me in...For saving me when I was sure I would have died in some dark room alone.

Or who knows what else would have happened to me if he hadn't shown up, you know?" she asked, sniffling.

"I'm still struggling to find my place, but she fits perfectly," she added. "And far too many times I ask myself what the hell am I even doing here," she asked with distraught, feeling more than just the cool rain fall down her face.

Salted warmth fell from her (e/c) eyes to mingle with the earth's tears as she continued to open up to him, leaving her heart out on display.

"What am I even doing here besides sucking up space," she asked him, and at that, his hand moved and gently cradled her cheek.

Staring up at him with (e/c) teary eyes, she fell into his hand more.

'At least you always make it better,' She thought to herself, 'Like you have a manual to my heart, knowing just how to tweak it.

And it feels so natural,

Why can't it be this easy with him?'

Her right hand slid up his wrist to hold it, as she shut her eyes crying, comforted by that touch alone.

'Do you think I belong here?' She wondered.

Wordlessly he stepped closer, his other hand falling onto the other side of her face, holding her with a gentleness that portrayed the inner softness he felt for her, the same one he wasn't so keen on speaking of.

Leaning down to her, he let his lips fall over her wet bangs with a slow, yet tender press.

'This is the longest you've held me, as well as the closest.' she realized, feeling a tickle in her stomach.

'It feels right to be here... But at the same time, I can't help but feel wrong enjoying it as much as I am,

Like I'm taking advantage...All for another reason...

For the same reason, I'm certain I can't be in love with Snake...'

And this was yet another thing that troubled her, what stopped her from thinking she was truly in love with the other man,

"Adam..." he heard her say as she peered her eyes up at him, her (e/c) drops twinkling. He watched them glow with interest, seeing the little sparkle up close.

' I think I want another,' She thought to herself as her (dark/light) eyes skimmed over his mouth, her heart racing.

It flashed for a moment, the beautiful gaze set on him before it disappeared, her eyes finding refuge to the grey railing instead. Looking ashamed, she tore her gaze from him,

'What was I just thinking?' She asked herself, finding herself confused, something that seemed to happen a lot more often when she was around him.

' - But I can't keep ignoring this,'

Though the droplets falling onto them were cold, there was warmth glowing over her cheeks, something he had been able to cause.

He could see it there, painted on her lovely face was a touch of red.

And a small smile formed over him as he watched the notable show of bashfulness, a sign he had his own effect on her.

"We should head inside," he suggested, his voice being just a murmur.

Still holding onto her, he had trouble drawing back, not knowing she was going through the same struggle, both people waging wars with their hearts.

Mutely she agreed, hesitantly drawing back from him,

'I don't think I have the guts to look him in the eye ever again,' she thought to herself.

He stepped out of the rain, thinking she was on his trail until he took notice of the lack of steps sounding behind him. He looked back at her, concerned as he noticed her stilled state.

"(f/n)," he said lowly, the way he said her name making her skin riddled with goosebumps as the voice reached her. Silently she watched as he came close to her, once again before her,

'It could be just the rain...'

She could blame the little bumps to the chilly precipitation, but she knew it was just a lie to herself. She was just so used to the sweet nickname, she felt strange when he called her anything else.

Anything but Sunshine ...

'His fingers are warm,' she thought idly as they fell over her (s/c) skin. 'And I love when they touch me, but more so when his entire hand falls on to me .'

His thumb slowly trailed below her eyes, checking for more tears, finding nothing but cool wetness.

She swallowed down harshly, "I..."

'I don't know what to say!' She thought helplessly, having only pushed out a word.

Seeing her flustered state, he then took a step closer, one that made her immediately take one back, escaping the intimate space bubble with a shuttered breath, not knowing what she'd do if they fell back into the same position from before.

It was a natural response she hadn't even thought of...

What else was she to have done?

She felt her heart race when he got too close, almost popping when he took that daring step towards her. She had been anxious when he came close, but as she withdrew something else twinged at her jump-started heart.

- Something that felt as though she were being jabbed with each beat,

'Make up your mind!' she berated the thudding muscle. ' Well? ' She questioned herself. ' Do you want him closer or not?'

Sirens went off in her head, blaring loud and making her quickened heartbeat fasten more as he decided to take a step back, his hand's grasp loosening, fingers lifelessly leaving her.

" Sunshine? " He asked her in a softer tone, the nickname making her breath hitch.

It made her fuzzy...

"Why do you call me that?" she asked him suddenly, sounding breathless, feeling her stomach flop at the bold inquiry. She blurted out the question, desperate for an answer to sedate her.

"Why do you call me that?" she pressed on, this time being the one to get closer.

The corners of his mouth rose slightly, his icy eyes melting slightly as he gazed down at her, his hands reaching for hers, holding them fondly.

'If not now...then when?' He asked himself.

She could feel tingling, a ticklish feeling left afterward that just couldn't be ignored, and it would have been all she could focus on if her heart wasn't drumming loudly within her ribcage.

"Why else?" he questioned her, as though she already knew the answer as if it was something obvious to the world,

'Doesn't she know?' He asked himself.

"Because...You're my sunshine," he explained, "And You always light up my day," he went on, his smile broadening, a visible grin adorned as he watched her eyes sparkle at the confession.

If she could look at him like that every time he said that little endearment, he'd never call her anything else,

Just sunshine.

"- My sunshine," he repeated, with the same grin stretched out.

"You belong here," he told her with certainty, having no doubt in his mind as he pulled her close and embraced her chilled body.

With a low breath, she fell onto his body, melting onto his figure as though it was her own home.

'I need you here, with me... My sunshine.'

I lost track of my direction here... (( ಠωಥ ))

But I mean, it's not so bad. Oh well, moving on.

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thekidultlife · 4 years

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IT'S OUR 2ND ANNIVERSARY! 🎉🥳🥂

@Authors' Note: This is Leanne and Hyeri's story. Please bear with us as we try to reminisce over the past years and celebrate where we are now as writers, as friends, and most especially, as individuals who have grown a lot and changed a lot through the years.

Warnings: Contains a semi-reveal of what we actually look like in real life lol so if you’re interested, keep reading down lol.

We started this blog in 2017. We deactivated in 2018, just weeks before what was supposed to be our first anniversary. We stayed silent throughout the rest of 2018 and 2019, but we picked up where we left off this 2020. Despite the messy history of this blog, though, and the changes in our lives, we are extremely happy that we did come back. And the reason why we came back? Well, it’s pretty simple.

The same love for SEVENTEEN, which made us start this blog, brought us back again.

We’re not lying when we tell you that this blog was what made us closer and what our friendship grow deeper.

Back then, we were just classmates who found common interests in each other (history, writing novels, analyzing politics, and being one of the ‘Big 3′ in our class lol) but didn’t know how to bond over these interests. But when we both started sharing a room in a dormitory close to our university in 2017, things changed. And things changed because we both found SEVENTEEN.

LEANNE: I wasn’t really a K-pop fan during that time. But I remember sitting beside Hyeri at our study area, watching her as she watched DWC and thinking to myself, “Maybe this could be it. Maybe this could be the ‘thing’ that we could bond over and could make our friendship grow. And so I leaned over and asked, “Oooh, which group is that?” What followed then was a night where I became a convert, and SVT became a part of me forever.

After that night, we found ourselves always talking about them because they became the thread that made us close. And while bonding over SVT, we started to become more open about our lives and about ourselves in terms of personalities. We didn’t know why but we just clicked. Before we started becoming really close, we had different sets of friends. But then, we just knew that our friendship was different because we truly understand each other.

HYERI: I wasn't a Kpop stan before either. Like if my high school me knew I'd become like this, she'll cringe in embarrassment. But it happened. A friend recommended me to watch React to the K because I'm a huge classical music nut, and I discovered Seventeen there. I seriously can't remember that exact moment when Leanne asked, but I do remember that one time when I showed her the dance practice for Aju Nice. It was one of the first things I showed to her, and then without knowing, we've already watched a lot of Seventeen videos.

Whenever I look back at that time, I just remember how happy we were even though it wasn't really a good moment in our lives. There were a lot of stress and problems, and everything just seemed to spiral down from there. But I just feel a warm feeling in my chest whenever July and August comes, I smell the rain, and remember how many nights we spent binging on Seventeen, talking inside the nearby 7/11 until 1am, knowing that classes were cancelled the next day because of the weather. It was truly a magical moment for me because I never had a friend like Leanne, like sometimes we just have the same thought patterns, and we bonded over Seventeen so much. We would just talk endlessly about them, brainstorming ideas for fics and so on to the point that we only stopped because the 5AM alarm went off lmao Those times were just absolutely incredible.

LEANNE: We also have kind of the same goal back then: to have a platform where we could practice writing. Hyeri suggested that we try creating a blog for fanfiction. I agreed because I truly wanted to try and I was so obsessed with Choi Seungcheol back then. So we planned our first fics, who posts first, and we created it. Just like that. On August 12, 2017, we made our first post.

Our first name was “diabolically-diamondiferous”. We wanted something different (and we now admit that we did go overboard with the bing different thing lol) and so we agreed that this would be our URL. We chose it because of the concept that there is a duality in this blog that readers should look forward to, a dynamic that they would only see here, I guess? That was the goal. That was how it all started.

HYERI: I was a Wonwoo stan back then. I had already written Love is A Fallacy and a bit of 30 Nights before we even created the blog, and I wanted an avenue where I can post it. I admit I myself can't think of a better url than "diabolically-diamondiferous", so I just went with it.

Honestly, the blog has helped me a lot with writing. I used to write anime fanfictions and original stories, and I've already established my style back then. This blog has really helped me a lot with refining my writing style and experimenting with new ideas and ways to tell a story, as well as being able to write quickly. I do think I've improved with my dialogues and the way I pace my stories, and make them feel organic. And with that, I've never realized I've already written a lot, until I arranged the masterlist recently.

What began with a few stories turned into hundreds as we started pouring our hearts into this blog. And we would be lying if we told you that it was pressure-free.

LEANNE: During this time, my responsibilities at uni, family and other personal matters made me unable to focus on the blog a lot. I really feel sorry for Hyeri during this time because she was the one who was more consistent with posting her stories. I joke every now and then these days whenever she couldn’t write that it’s okay, you once had too much weight and now I’ll carry my share and more, too, if it gets hard for you. Even though I was busy with other things, however, Hyeri really pulled through and made this blog come alive. And as a friend, she really helped me get through my darkest moments. This blog, too, became my crutch. Whenever my heart got broken, I would write here. I would try to find my voice (and at that time, I couldn’t find myself, either. Just ask Hyeri why, lol.) in writing. I was experimenting what voice I had while writing and what genre fits me.

HYERI: Following Leanne's, I guess after our trip to Korea, things became way harder. I had a lot of low points back then as well: losing my scholarship and just so much responsibility in life and at school. I did carry much of the weight of the blog after that semester, and I'm surprised how I managed to do that. I kept on badgering Leanne to finish some requests, but she really had a lot going on as well. Not to mention our plans to join an exchange program to Korea which was another hell we signed up for. It was extra difficult because our department doesn't want us to leave, thinking we're just running away from the strict (and often unfair) professors (ironic when our major is International Relations).Seventeen and this blog was the only way we could bond together and have fun and just forget about everything. I could remember sending each other fake messages from Seventeen just to cheer the other up when things get depressing, or imagining what it would feel like to be an idol and whatnot. It sounds silly now, but that was the only way we could cope with how intense and exhausting our lives were. It was the only thing that kept the constant dread in our nerves from taking over.

What began as an experimental way to boost creativity became something like a career, and steering our motivation, was of course, the boys. Our boys. The amazing people that we write about and that we imagine about. They made us happy during the times when there was nothing to be happy about. They made us take risks that brought out the braveness we didn’t know we had in us, and they made us feel hopeful about the future.

However, we hit a hurdle we couldn’t bring ourselves back from hurdle after hurdle during our second semester as juniors in college.

LEANNE: Second semester of junior year in college was really hard for me. The bottom line of it all was the manipulative relationship that I was in with my s/o back then, but a lot of things piled up as well: school responsibilities (I was handling three classes at one point as a professor’s assistant and then ran for a student government position I didn’t really want but felt obliged to). All the while this was happening, I was really feeling myself slip away. I was suffering from depression but I had a lot of things going on around me that I could not just drop because people were depending on me. The only way I thought I would be able to not give up is by going somewhere else to finish my studies. Yes, the environment got that toxic. I really needed to get away. Around this time, I wasn’t active on the blog anymore. Right after elections, I lost my motivation to do anything. I would sometimes pitch in to help Hyeri with some requests, but it took way more effort than I thought it would.

Hyeri and I decided that we needed to take the risk of applying for the South Korean exchange program, which was one of the best that our uni had to offer. We figured that since our grades were okay, it would be easy. Boy were we wrong.

HYERI: The Coldest Human, The Warmest Robot was the last fic I've posted in the blog before the hiatus. I couldn't do it anymore. There were so many problems and issues with the exchange program that I could no longer handle the blog alone. Leanne had withdrawn too, considering how she has her own things to face as well. It was a really difficult time. After being rejected a visa, I just can't think of writing, or even Seventeen anymore. Just their presence seemed to only remind me that I had been rejected after months and months of preparation. Their songs only reminded me of our disappointments. It was awful and I knew I can't face them at that time. I found myself in Taiwan. Alone. Leanne had stayed and it was depressing. I had to move on despite that, but it felt like an empty success.

We planned to become a part of an exchange program in South Korea, but it didn’t pull through at the last minute. We had staked all our bets, and we lost motivation in a lot of things. One of those things was this blog. We just knew that we had to let it go during 2018, because it was impossible to maintain it when you don’t feel inspired about life anymore.

LEANNE: I was miserable during first semester as a senior because everything did not go as planned. I was really losing the resolve to keep going on because nothing had gone the way I had planned it to be. I think the only silver lining during 2018 was that my parents and friends finally stepped in to protect me from the person who had been harming me emotionally and therefore affecting my self-esteem and resolve. We also went to Macau, where I really healed a lot as well while teaching music with close friends from church. But beyond that, I could see no other way to get through the last semester except to follow Hyeri and go to Taiwan. It wasn’t just her friendship that I was missing; it was also about that goal I had in my mind: to find peace and quiet away from everything that had hurt me and drained me.

We didn’t have any high hopes about what lay ahead, but the biggest plot twist came.

LEANNE: By some miracle, I managed to convince my parents that I was well enough to go to Taiwan and that I would be safer there. It all happened so fast. February I was still crying, standing at the train tracks, telling our other friend that I wanted to just end it. But then March came and my visa got approved on a Friday. Three days later, just packing whatever I had with me in my apartment, I left for Taiwan.

It was a miracle Hyeri and I still talk about a lot. We started to heal from everything that we had gone through. We started to re-explore our friendship and in the end, after so much drama and after so much challenges, we finally concluded that this friendship of ours was really something that we wanted to keep forever. We grew a lot through the years.

HYERI: Who would've thought that with a lot of begging and pleading and praying, Leanne was finally able to go to Taiwan. I was so happy. It was one of the happiest memories of my life so far. Being in Taiwan, away from the world, from the responsibilities back at home, it was such a liberating time.It was also the exact period which we started to heal from past disappointments. Seventeen no longer gave me the pain I used to feel, and to this day, You Made My Day---the album which was released before everything happened, and reminded me a lot of what had transpired---is one of my favourite Seventeen albums.

But here we are now, in 2020. It was really because of Hit the Road that we decided to come back. We agreed to start writing again come June 2020. We started doing what we loved again.

HYERI: We had fully healed from everything and we're fully ready to come back to writing about our precious boys! I am so happy to be able to finally celebrate the actual anniversary for this blog!

LEANNE: And now, here we are, celebrating our anniversary! The first one we really had! This is all impromptu editing but we really wanted to make it special.

Highlights Throughout the Years:

💎 Love is A Fallacy (Lawyer!Wonwoo)

The first ever fic I've written for SVT. I remember I wrote this while I was at the dorm on my bed, it was a miraculously stress-free night. The song I kept on playing was "20" and I could imagine it being the OST if this was a kdrama 😂 This was at a time when Wonwoo was still my bias.

💎Adagio Cantabile (College Student!Jihoon)

A fic I first wrote after Jihoon became my bias. I could still remember, I was so inspired by a fic titled Customer Satisfaction, that I wrote this one. Plus I'm really into Classical Music, that I could just write one whole fic about it. I'm still amazed how we were able to write fanfiction even though we were swamped with school work, and I mean, SWAMPED, like a lot of exams, graded recitation, things to memorize, super long essays, but we still managed to write. 😂

💎Saffron (Victorian AU DK)

This was written shortly after Leanne and I went back from Korea. I was so blissfully happy back then. I think I've spent a night or two writing this. This was heavily inspired by the game "Chocolatier" which I was playing days before I've started writing 😂 I really love writing for DK, he's such a positively innocent character who was so endearing.

💎The Coldest Human; Warmest Robot (Android!Jihoon)

This was probably the last one shot I've posted before the hiatus in 2018. I remember finishing it in my hometown when we went there for summer vacation. It was a really bad time ngl I lost my scholarship and was supposed to go to an exchange program to South Korea with Leanne. Back I didn't know if I could support that dream financially.

💎The Most Convenient Escape (Soulmate!Jihoon)

This was the first fic I've written after the hiatus. Truthfully, over 2018-2019, I lost my love for SVT. It was painful to be reminded of the fact that we weren't able to go to Korea, so I avoided them while I was in Taiwan. But I came back around this year and started to write this one. It's heavily inspired by the book "Voices of the Past" which is a compilation of American newspaper articles over the years, and anime reviews which talked about Deconstructing a genre (i.e., Madoka Magica and Evangelion). Right now I really do want to finish this series.

Highlights Throughout the Years

💎The Return of Superman Series

My first work, TROS Seungcheol, was the first fic in the entire blog that I was truly proud of. All my other works were too rushed, too experimental for my own taste even, and just doesn’t look like what I, Leanne, if you personally know me, would write about. I strongly believe that there is a unique voice in each story, a voice that belongs only to its writer, and back then, I was still trying to find that voice. The Return of Superman was my breakthrough in writing. I suddenly found an AU that I truly loved to write about, and, most importantly, my voice in writing.

💎After-Party, Only Us, and Afterglow | Yoon Jeonghan

This is the spin-off series that came from Yoon Jeonghan’s The Return of Superman. I started to become more comfortable in my style of writing as I wrote these. You will notice a change of style after the first part, “After-Party”. My writing style has matured, and I really congratulate myself a lot for that. It took me years and tons of experiences to get that flavor I had always wanted in my works! Haha.

💎The And Series

This is another one of those imagines that really brought out the hopeless romantic inside me, and for that, I am proud of it. It’s still mostly in the works, but I am really happy about how it’s turning out.

💎Through the Seasons Series

Ah, this is my pet project. All my heart is poured into this one. This is the first series that I truly explored the beauty of love in realistic settings. My writing process here is done by looking at real couples LOL and also tapping into beautiful memories of mine about love and about life and all the drama that comes along. I’m really glad that a lot of our new readers liked the first one that came out!

Our story-time ends here.

All in all, we just want to say thank you. Thank you for everything. For being with us through this crazy ride of a blog, truly, sincerely, thank you. From our followers since the beginning, to the new ones that we are finding joy in communicating with now, thank you. From the bottom of our hearts!

LET’S MAKE MORE MEMORIES TOGETHER!

- Leanne and Hyeri.

#HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO US!#Leanne and Hyeri #thekidultlife

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existential-crisistm · 3 years

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can’t you just be evil

this is just a snippet, unfinished draft of an idea I had ages ago. it’s been sitting around in my pile of drafts for a while, and I probably won't continue it, so I thought I could post it!

also here’s my ao3 account, I've got two complete angst dump one-shots please check it out: ao3 account

full title: can’t you just be evil (it’s easier that way)

Dream was not sure when, where, how, or why he woke up.

He doesn’t remember much. He doesn’t know who he is-- ̵͎͇́̈́ͅy̵̢̳͆͘o̸͓̹͝u̶͇̗͗͘͝ ̵̯̲͎̂̃a̴̡͖͌̔̐͜r̷̨͈̰̉̿è̵̠͗ ̵͎̓n̸̘̗̑͛o̴̝̐͝t̸̬̓̽̿ ̴̝̫̞̃̃D̶̢̜̤̏r̸̯͖̈̃́ȩ̵̹́ȧ̴̩m̶̢̩̑̄,̵̤͗ ̶̻̄y̷̯̽̽ȍ̴̢̭̦͗u̵̞̰̿̈̍ ̶͓̯̎a̸̩̪̳̿r̷̢̎͌́é̸͉ ̶̪͖̋͛̋n̸̜̓̃͑o̶̳̓t̷̛̪̟̓͝h̷̖̖̫́͠ȋ̴͕ṉ̶̨̯́̄g̵̜͑.̴̬͂̅

Leaves crunch underneath his feet, and trees loom above him, and he wonders if the afterlife is meant to be this dull. He’s not quite sure how he knows he’s dead, but he does, just as he knows his favorite color is green and the sky is blue but his blood is was red. He walked through the forest, without a clear destination in mind. All he knows is move, run, leave and don’t look back, but why?

He doesn’t question it further. Something deep inside him tells him not to.

A river cuts through the forest, causing him to pause and peer at the reflection curiously. The reflection stares back at him, eyes wide and hair distinctly ruffled. There. That’s him. He doesn’t know his name, but at least now he knows what he looks like--dirty blonde hair, green eyes, a couple of freckles if he squinted, and a violet sweater.

Flashes of memories, shards of recollection, rush past him leaving him dizzy as he tries to grasp at it, to focus on something that isn’t really there. All is fleeting and nothing is concrete, nothing is real, he isn’t real he’s just dead where is he why is he here he has to stop the hur--

It’s gone in a wash of strange calm. Disregarding the oddity of his mind, the ghost casts his reflection one more glance before walking--floating?--away. The forest is thinning, he thinks, as the trees grow sparse and the floor looks less untouched. Did he die in this forest? Was there anyone with answers? Anyone other than the poison in his brain hissing foul words of contempt? It fills him, bubbling and swirling with something so powerful that he staggers back enough for his fading body, his husk of whatever he used to be, to hit the base of the tree behind him. He wavers, clutching his head, gloved hands pulling and tugging locks of hair as his mind screams red.

It takes nearly an hour (maybe, time is foreign and odd) for him to calm, to stop glitching, his mind fighting over green and red and blood and friends. The moonlight is gone now, replaced with a soft sunrise that helps him stand. The forest is kind, he thinks, as birds sing their morning songs and little creatures of the woods scuttle away. A fox pauses to give him a deep, knowing look, and before he can puzzle out a meaning, it turns tail and bounds away, disappearing into the thicker woods. He could stay here. Where the grass is green and the inhabitants are kind.

But something darker pulls him. And he is far too weak to say no.

Still, he takes a pinecone, and cradles it in his ghostly palms. It is a gift from the forest, and it will tether him before he can lose himself again. At least, he hopes so.

The woods thin and the creatures disperse, leaving him staring wide-eyed in wonder at a world full of people. He can’t really see anyone in particular, but it’s clear people live here. There are buildings and homes, wooden paths and lanterns, and it’s pretty.

But in the epicenter, there is destruction. Craters crashed in the ground, levelling the world and destroying the picture-perfect nation. There’s an attempt at cleanup, new and half-hearted, with fresh dirt filling a couple of holes and obsidian paths in the sky taken down, parts just sitting there, looming ominously.

Part of him wants to cry. Another part wants to laugh.

He does neither.

“Hi there!”

He snaps to attention, flinching at the sudden greeting. A figure floats beside him, a happy smile playing on his face. He’s got a bright yellow sweater with a bloody rip running through the center, with his eyes crinkled in kindness and fluffy brown hair. He looks… Transparent.

“Are you a ghost too?” He chirps, waving. “I’m Ghostbur! Would you like some blue?”

Dream swallows. He tries to open his mouth, to speak, but his throat closes up and he can’t make a sound. Flashes assault him, bright in his mind with-- “I want to be your vassal.”

“̵O̴h̴ ̷D̷r̴e̴a̶m̶,̸ ̵y̴o̴u̴ ̴p̶o̷o̷r̷ ̴b̷a̴s̸t̶a̸r̷d̶.̶ ̴I̵t̴ ̷s̷e̵e̷m̸s̴ ̵w̶e̷ ̶a̴l̷l̴ ̵m̵e̸e̷t̵ ̷o̴u̶r̶ ̵e̵n̴d̴,̵ ̴h̵u̵h̴?̶ ̸H̶o̶w̸’̴d̴ ̶y̷o̵u̶ ̷k̴i̷c̶k̷ ̷t̵h̷e̸ ̵b̵u̶c̷k̶e̷t̷ ̴t̵h̷e̴n̸?̴”̷

He flinches once more, taking an uneasy step back. That voice… It’s poison. It sounds so much like Him, like Ni-

Ghostbur’s brow furrows and he smiles, but it’s a bit more dull. “Oh, you can hear him too? I think it’s a ghost thing. Glatt can hear Alivebur, but he doesn’t like him much.”

“̴H̴e̸’̷s̵ ̸a̵ ̴b̸i̴t̸t̶e̵r̶ ̶d̵r̵u̵n̶k̶,̶ ̸a̷n̶d̶ ̵d̴e̶a̸t̴h̷ ̷h̸a̵s̷n̶'̵t̷ ̵c̸h̶a̵n̷g̷e̸d̵ ̷h̸i̵m̴ ̵o̴n̵e̴ ̷b̸i̷t̸.̴ ̷H̴e̷'̷s̸ ̶f̵a̷r̶ ̸t̶o̵o̶ ̶a̶l̴i̴v̷e̵ ̸t̶o̶ ̷h̷a̶v̴e̷ ̴t̸h̶a̶t̷ ̴v̷o̶i̴c̵e̸ ̶i̶n̷ ̷h̴i̵s̸ ̵h̸e̵a̸d̵.̶”̴

Ghostbur nods. “Yeah! So if ghosts are really different from when they were alive, they hear an echo of their live-self! At least, I think. Do you?” He cocked his head to his side. “I don’t know if I remember anyone like you, but my memory isn’t the best.”

“̷W̸h̷i̶l̷e̸ ̴I̷ ̸f̷o̸r̷g̴o̴t̸ ̴e̶v̸e̷r̷y̶t̶h̸i̵n̵g̶ ̶g̴o̸o̸d̸ ̴i̷n̶ ̸t̷h̵e̸ ̶w̶o̷r̶l̵d̷,̸ ̶d̵e̷a̵r̵ ̶G̴h̵o̸s̴t̶b̴u̷r̵ ̶f̵o̶r̴g̵o̷t̶ ̷e̴v̴e̸r̵y̴t̷h̵i̷n̴g̷ ̸b̷a̷d̶.̶ ̷I̴r̵o̸n̵i̶c̴,̵ ̵i̸s̴n̸'̷t̵ ̶i̴t̸?̷ ̶M̸a̴y̴b̵e̴ ̸e̸v̸e̴n̸ ̸p̸o̷e̸t̷i̷c̷.̷”̷

Ghostbur’s smile doesn’t falter, but he looks a little upset at the comment.

He doesn’t respond. He just stares, wide-eyed, at the cheery ghost who knows too much about being dead. Finally, he manages to shake his head. Technically, He wasn’t an echo of his alive self. He wasn’t even sure what he was like when he was alive, if you removed the parasitic demon, the bloody contracts, rituals, and the cruel puppet strin-

D̵̢̘̭̄̽̕ṟ̴͒̚e̸͖͎̗͊̏͒ä̴̖̩́m̷̨̬̎̚,̷͚͂̿I á̸̛̫͇͌m̶͇̓̈́ ̸̦̃ȳ̷͍̜͔̾͝o̷͉̒̎u̴̢͊��.̶̹̮͇̓̿͑

“Anyways, let me introduce you to everyone!” Ghostbur grabs him by the hand, slipping his palm into his. He tries not to flinch again, or cower, but he can’t help it. Something about this ghost scares him, and so does the prospect of meeting others. He wants his green back. His forest.

But he can’t speak; can’t say no, can’t say yes, and lacks the strength to pry himself away. So he lets himself be tugged towards the buildings. Ghostbur chatted away, happily explaining things as they passed.

“So Doomsday happened a few days ago!”--Obsidian paths and the click of repeaters, vindication and satisfaction because this is all so fun-- “Philza was there! He was here last time it got blown up, to kill me!” His grip tightened a bit. “Friend was here, but he’s gone now.”

O̸l̴d̷ ̴P̴h̵i̸l̶ ̸w̸a̴s̶ ̸a̵l̵w̸a̵y̶s̴ ̴a̷ ̶s̴h̶i̶t̸ ̴f̵a̵t̶h̸e̶r̵.̵ ̴P̶o̴o̵r̵ ̷T̵o̴m̴m̶y̸,̷ ̸n̴o̵ ̵w̸o̵n̷d̸e̵r̸ ̷h̴e̷ ̷h̷a̴s̸ ̵f̸u̸c̷k̸i̵n̵g̷ ̶a̸b̴a̵n̶d̷o̶n̷m̴e̴n̸t̸ ̷i̸s̷s̷u̷e̴s̶.̶

“Here we are!” Ghostbur announces, and he forces himself to look up, timid and shaking. There’s a large group of people, sitting around and speaking in low voices. Some are injured and getting treated by another.

“What the fuck?” Someone piped up. He cringed, drawing inward more in an effort to make himself seem smaller. “Wilbur, who-”

“This is my ghosty friend! He’s a ghost!” Ghostbur said happily, waving his hand, though Dream got the idea that he wasn’t quite pleased to be called Wilbur.

“̷G̷o̶ ̵o̷n̷ ̴t̴h̷e̴n̴.̵ ̶L̴o̷o̸k̶ ̷t̶h̴e̵m̷ ̶i̴n̸ ̷t̶h̵e̶ ̵e̷y̵e̵.̴ ̶I̸ ̶d̸a̵r̸e̷ ̸y̸o̸u̷.̶”̸

He was beginning to really hate Alivebur.

̵“̶D̴i̶t̸t̷o̵,̸ ̶g̵r̸e̸e̷n̸ ̶b̴o̷y̸.̷”̶

“Who--” They are gathering now, perking up and standing. “Who died?”

“Wait what, I- Dream?”

This time, he does not flinch. He cannot, even if it is wrong and why does the man with the goggles look so scared-

Finally, something in his throat returned, his voice, just by staring wide-eyed at the man with silly glasses and brown hair. “Who’s Dream?”

Ghostbur looked a bit surprised, if not a little confused, but the rest gasped and stood, staring at him as if he was an alien from Mars. What is Mars? It doesn’t matter, but he remembers… lying in the grass. The green would tickle his neck and the sky would be so vast above him, two friends at his side, ready to create a world full of family and trust. The stars were pretty. Something to dream about, to reach the unreachable and live among the celestial lights.

“Oh my god.”

The voices surge. They surround him, trapping him, and distantly his wishes for the familiar weight of his mask to hide from the stares and whispers.

"̷I̸f̸ ̴h̵e̴ ̸h̷a̷s̶ ̵a̷ ̴p̴a̴n̸i̵c̸ ̸a̷t̶t̵a̶c̶k̴ ̵I̷'̴m̴ ̸g̸o̵i̵n̵g̸ ̵t̸o̸ ̵d̷i̶e̴ ̶l̴a̵u̵g̵h̵i̵n̷g̵.̷ ̶A̵g̸a̴i̶n̶.̶"̸

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