#I am actually going to go insane this shit is unreal. How can you say that with a straight face
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
My Ukranian friend told me that she supports israel because she thinks that it's in a similar situation to Ukraine. Like Palestinians are these evil terrorists like russia who attacked first and poor little israel is just defending itself like Ukraine. Am I insane. Am I going insane. Am I actually fucking insane.
#I am Ukranian too if you couldn't tell btw. And I think that. Is a crazy thing to think and to say#All this time I thought that it's irrational for Ukrainians to not support Palestine when we kinda were in similar situations#And like. How can you go through something so terrible and look at people who are going through something like that and think#Yeah they deserve this. (obviously I know it's just racism duh)#But I guess I hadn't considered THAT huh!!!!!!#I'm so mad. And she sent me 100+ fucking messages about this. She's really passionate about defending fucking war criminals I guess#Like. I don't have to tell you all why that's fucked up right.#I am actually going to go insane this shit is unreal. How can you say that with a straight face#I'm not usually that open about personal matters but like#I don't have any friends now lol (better than being friends with racists and genocide supporters btw) so#it's either oversharing on Tumblr.com or just exploding so#also it's almost 5 am I'm going to fucking die but I feel better now so maybe I'll get some sleep I hope#I could go on for hour about every terrible argument she presented that left me absolutely flabbergasted but I'll refrain#for your and mine sanity#Good night and free Palestine. My final message. Goodbye
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
stupid kids in love
part three to “stupid horny fucks”
warnings : angst , SMUT !!!! , kinda fluff . sub chris if u squint . cock warming . m! receiving , f!riding . SMUTTTTTTTT
—————-
“what?” i cut him off , it feels like a punch to the gut . a thousand different things race my mind , the loudest drowning the rest out . what the fuck does that mean .
“look i don’t fucking know what to say . it was a stupid thing to do i know but you don’t understand, i have literally been fucking fighting myself with the knowledge that i am literally obsessed with you . i’m talking like … i can’t actually imagine myself with someone that isn’t you , and i know u shouldn’t have a one time fuck with a friend or someone your in love with but i fucking did , and i’m sorry that i made it awkward and i’m sorry you don’t feel the same and i’m sorry i didn’t tell u before and i’m sorry that i don’t fucking regret it .” chris finishes his incessant ramble and i’m stood frozen . literally everything he has just said was insane . like it feels like a dream . maybe a nightmare.
“chris”
“and i’m sorry that it happened the way it did , i feel like fucking shit knowing that was your first time and it was bad , i wish i could go back and stop myself . i’m so fucking sorry” he cuts me off , basically pleading with me . i wouldn’t be suprised if he got down on his knees and started praying. with all of his apologies ,all i can think about is holding him , he has absolutely nothing to be sorry for , i feel the exact same as he does. so why the fuck am i still frozen. WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL FROZEN .
“chris i love you”
“please just hear me out- wait what” he cuts himself off and meets my eyes . his eyebrows soften before they furrow in confusion. i step forward , taking his face in my hands , searching each of his eyes , watching the tears that were flowing over his cheeks stop . i didn’t notice until now ive been doing the same , they pool on my chin , dripping down my collarbones and soothing the same place he had kissed me a week ago .
“chris i have loved you for years . don’t u dare apologize for anything, i was insecure and overthinking. i don’t regret the sex if you don’t , it was fucking perfect. please don’t run away now .” i say quietly, i silently pray he understands. that he believes me .
“u were the one who ran away” he says , refusing to meet my eyes , it was as if he thought that if he looked up , i would disappear. i grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me , his usual confidence gone in my grip . “and i will spend forever trying to make it up to you chris .” i reply , my lip shaking under my teeth as i try and hold back a sob , he needs me as much as i need him . he’s wanted me as long as i’ve wanted him . i have nothing to worry about .
we stay in silence for a while , before i tug him forward into me . his arms latching around me tighter then ever . i’m not going anywhere, i want to say . but the pressure of his body against mine finally silences the voice in my head , i completely melt in his grip . the scent of his cologne and just him flood my senses as my face rubs against the soft material of his sweatshirt .
he tilts my head to look at him , the blue of his eyes almost gone as the darkness of my hallway makes him seem like a shadow . almost unreal to look at . but he is real . i know this because his lips touch mine in a way they never have before , slowly melting into his touch as his tongue softly caresses mine , his hands move from my back . slowly trailing to my face as he pulls me closer , deepening the kiss impossibly closer . i kiss him back with the same amount of passion. no . love . that’s the only word for how his lips move against mine . how his hand moves to my neck, his thumb brushing against my pulsing veins . he could have his hands wrapped around my neck and i would trust him . i would let him squeeze the last breath of air in my lungs just to have this be my last memory.
i walk him to the wall , my lips never leaving his , his back hits it and as soon as it does he flips us around , pinning my back against the cold object . his body is basically attached to mine as he presses his pelvis to me, slowly rolling his hips against mine as i match the movement. our pace quickens , the soft kiss turns into a hungry one , soft groans as we explore each others body like the first time , his hand reaches towards my thigh and trails towards my knee, lifting my leg as i wrap it around his waist . my hand that was once on his face makes it to his chest as i push him towards my living room , never once breaking contact with his lips .
the moment i feel him hault and hit the edge of the couch , i push him down . immediately straddling his lap and pushing his hair back through my fingers , feeling the soft strands gently slide over my skin . i re-attach our lips , he pulls away but i chase his lips still looking for contact . “y/n this isn’t-“ i kiss him again , cutting him off but he moves back and swerves my attempt to carry on .”y/n listen to me “ i look from his lips up to him, “i need you to know that this isn’t the only think i want . it’s not just for the sex , i want you . i need you. it’s always been you . i should have said that before but i was just-“
“stop apologizing.” i say putting my hands on his chest to i can see him properly, “chris , we were stupid horny fucks , it was both of us , i don’t fucking regret it so just kiss me!” within a second of my words leaving my throat, his lips were on mine again . his hands travel to my ass , lifting me as i grind against him , my hands grab my t-shirt , lifting it over my head . his eyes fly to my chest , before dunking his head into the skin and sucking dark marks into it making my head throw back and my hand to grab his messy hair . after a few seconds i tug on the brunette strands , making his lips detach from my throat and look at me with the most attractive expression i’ve ever seen . his lips were plump and pink, along with his nose and cheeks, his eyes droopy and black as his pupils dilate . his lips were slightly parted so i took the chance to slide my thumb against his bottom lip , pulling it down and watching him squirm underneath my core , feeling his very hard dick against my clothes .
“for someone who doesn’t care about the sex , your little friend sure does …” i whisper while moving my hand to his face , tracing his cheek bone with my thumb gently . moving my hips against the hard object prodding at my pelvis . he whines slightly at the movement, making my lips turn into a smirk , producing a breathy laugh from him . “are you okay with this?” i ask playing with the hem of his shirt , asking to take it off , he nods and starts to help me . i smack his hand , resulting in a very confused look from him , i ignore him and pull it over his head , throwing it to the ground and getting off his lap to kneel in front of the couch. “and …are you okay with this ?” i ask looking up at him through my eyelashes , putting two fingers under the band of his sweatpants , running it across the ragged elastic material . he nods quickly and i take my hand away . “chris , words please baby” i say sitting on my heels and waiting for him to answer me .
“yes, fuck please” he says , letting out the air he was holding in anticipation. i smile at him and place my fingers under the band again , pulling them down . he raises his hips letting the sweatpants free for me too move down his legs , letting them pool around his feet . my hand ghosts over his cock , slowly moving up and down the material of his boxers , feeling him twitch . ”please” he breathes out . “please what?” i reply , loving the power this gave me . i could practically feel the pool between my legs , it should be teasing him but all it’s doing is making me wetter . he doesn’t need to know that though .
“touch . please just touch me y/n” he says , attempting to pull his boxers down. i take the fabric from his hands and pulling it down the rest of the way . his dick springs up and almost hits me in the face , making us both laugh, but he quickly gets serious when i grab his dick with my hand and spit down on the tip . his head throws back , shakey breaths and whines from his throat as i kiss his tip , tongue rolling around the sensitive skin . i take half of him in my mouth, letting my hand work the rest . slowly sliding my head up and down his dick , my lips rolling over his veins as he takes my hair into a makeshift ponytail and pushes he down further . my nails drag into his skin as i try not to gag as his tip hits the back of my throat , leaving red marks down his thigh , lewd sounds coming from both of us as i moan around his cock.
he pulls me up by my hair arruptly , my chest sliding against his dick as i come up , making him shutter and whimper. “what?” i ask , thinking i did something wrong or that he was in pain, “i was literally about to cum down your throat?” he says breathlessly, tilting his head slightly and furrowing his eyebrows .
“and u think i didn’t want that?” i ask as confused as him . he just relaxes and smirks, looking down at my lips and kissing me slowly . i pull away , pushing my sweatpants and my underwear down together , wanting more then anything to feel him inside of me , i straddle him again , letting my folds slide against his dick . he grabs his dick and slides the tip up and down . “jesus y/n” he says , referring to the fact i am basically fucking dripping at this point , i just roll my eyes and change the subject, “you ready?” i say , he smiles . “shouldn’t i be the one saying that?” i just tilt my head at his words , raising my eyebrows. “yes y/n” he continues .
as soon as the words leave his mouth i sink down on him , too fast . i can literally feel myself burn , he notices and kisses my lips again , brushing the hair from my face with one hand , wrapping the other around my waist to lift me up . “you okay” he speaks with concern , i humm in reply and slowly start to lift myself on him . slowly the pain turns to pleasure. feeling him deep inside of me . rolling my hips to get a deeper feeling , i drop my head to the crook of his neck leaving open mouthed kisses on the skin , breathing heavy and letting soft moans fall from my lips as he starts to thrust upwards . his hands are on my waist , before moving to my ass , helping me lift myself on his dick , he grips it hard enough to leave bruises , but the feeling in my stomach overshadows that pain as i feel the knot slowly start to gain more tension.
“chris , mmh, fuck” i breathe out before putting my hands on his chest and pushing myself up to look at him .”chris- FUCK … chris i’m close.” he lets out a strained moan , before nodding frantically and bringing his hand down to my clit , running fast circles on the bundle of nerves . my nails dig into his chest as i half-ball my fists and run them down his chest . he bites his lip harshly , attempting to muffle his own noises, but ultimately the sounds that leave his throat are breathy groans as his dick twitches inside of me .
the room that encapsulates us are filled will loud grunts and high pitched moans as we both completely undone around each other . i clench around him after i feel his warmth shoot inside of me , painting my insides white as i come almost straight after him . a string of curses leave our mouths before i collapse on his chest. listening to his quickened heart beat in my ears , feeling his hands rub up and down my breath as we both come down from our highs .
after a while i go to get up but he stops me . “is anyone home tonight?” he asks me , running his fingers through my sweat drowned hair .
“no why?” i ask , relaxing into his touch . “let’s just sleep like this” he says grabbing a blanket and covering us both on the sofa . i nod and lie back down on his chest , resting my head on his shoulder , breathing in his scent on his neck . he grabs he around my shoulders and wraps his legs around me , swinging us to the side so we can lie down on the sofa properly. his dick slides out slightly so i take the opportunity to wrap my legs around him and push myself closer to him . he lets out a small whimper at the sensitivity and i giggle , apologize and kiss his neck as i get comfortable against his body again .
“hope you know we’re defo not gonna be friends after this” he says , making me look up to him .”ur my girl now , you know that?” he says smiling and placing a small kiss to my forehead .
“yeah i’d fucking think so”
—————
hope i did y’all proud ☝🏻 i feel like im going to hell for writing this .
—
taglist:
@mangosrar @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @kvtie444@kenzieiskoolaid @urmyslxt @chrisenthusiast @mattslolita @iheart2021chris @parkerssecrets @recklesssturniolo @lovingsturniolo @paper-crab @daddyslilchickenfingers @strniohoeee @ermdontmindthisaccount @sturnphilia @bluesturniolo333 @lustfulslxt @lunarsturniolo @chrisolivia4l @freshlovehacker @its-jennarose @kitaysworld @liz-stxrn @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @flowerxbunnie @mattsbratt @slut4chr1s @oversturn @mbbsgf @fredswh0re @nickenthusiast
#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#matt sturniolo#milkietalks#nicolas sturniolo#milkie is down bad#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo imagines#matthew sturniolo#snaps from christopher sturniolo#christopher sturniolo toxic#chris sturniolo oneshot#chris sturniolo x you#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#smut
229 notes
·
View notes
Text
THIS IS EPIC: different beast
live reaction of me watching yet another epic animatic out of order (like the heathen i am) and holy fucking shit.
like i knew from god games that ody kills the sirens but not like this. respec +10
siren design? amazing. ody embracing the monster? phenomenal. the murderyness? hands down best part of the whole song omfg
the shift from we are the man made monsters to he is the man made monster is unreal. so good
sharp and pointy teef >:D
sirens sounding like actual sirens is so funny to me lol
ody looking down at siren while the noose is around her neck as he drags her onboard was WILD and im *so* here for it
the frickin glint in his eyes when he says 'snatched'. w o o f
the callback to suffering was chefs kiss, mwah
guys. guys you can see the exact second the siren regrets her life choices. when he squishes her face (lol) and her eyebrows do the thing. guys
the juxtaposition of the sirens being circled by the crew is brilliant, as well as how the roles seem to reverse in that the men look like shadowy monsters while the sirens look like helpless humans
"spare us" hoooooooooooooo boi
unrelated but ody's unhinged smirk and quick shift to cold and uncaring is the best thing in the whole thing
CUTTING OF THEIR TAILS AND LEAVING THEM TO DROWN OH MY FUCKING GOD ODY U MADMAN ILY BUT WTF
brutal. insane. cruel. you go king. go see ur wife.
fr tho my jaw reached the floor faster than astyanax did. unreal
"let them drown" *muffled screeching*
the screams. the tears. the hand holding at the end. oof
im so normal about this :)
bonus in case u arent crying already.
#epic the musical#different beast#this is epic#emergency episode lol#how do i even tag this#cw sirencide#the odyssey#dont do murder kids#unless ur trying to get home to ur son and wife after 20 years#in which case do what u gotta do#odysseus#sirenelope
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
4 minutes ep 5 thoughts
can't believe we're over halfway through :( but how nice to be able to watch on iqiyi
a warning for flashing lights would've been good
bless. she played that perfectly because that was an expression every woman can recognise instantly but [straight] men have no idea
okay I love title's shirt. confirmation it's tonkla who takes him out then
the grass, the trees, it all has a very dream-like, unreality/hyper-reality in a way kinda feeling. the establishing shot of the grass just feels like a movie in an intentional way
omg they're glamping!! I thought it was a tent at the end of last ep but I didn't think it'd look like that lmao
[we haven't seen tyme wear a necklace yet have we? yet in the first visions of them having sex he definitely has one on. just thinking about it now because his shirt is like making it very obvious.]
they are soooooooo. I gotta go lie down on the floor. tyme straight up serenading great, the man does have moves. (where'd he get a guitar from? it came with the campsite)
the most insane thing is that they're both still wearing shoes and socks around. (<- might be assigning australian values here)
musician AU CONFIRMED.
just taking a moment to appreciate jes' acting. my goodness. my HEART.
NAN BACKSTORY!! bee I love you as well. miscarriage? oh damn. this is depressingly real. I hope Nan gets to burn everything down
the framing of tyme and great in these shots is so interesting. tyme always on the left, often higher. don't even need to mention the black&white.
why is what's on the picnic table so blurry or are my eyes going weird
"what if the next death is you?" "I don't have anything to lose." okay. pain.
I love Korn losing it.
oooohhh sa-marn. this is the one single thing I've liked him doing. (and not just because it means we get to see great's mother again 😍 the one sleeve look is perfect)
"the son of yours" number one thing not to say to your wife unless it's a cute joke
god great's even got a red number plate to match his car lmaoooo. actually surprising to me that his car doesn't have a GPS tracker or something. korn's gonna be waiting for great isn't he.
if it started as ~seducing great to get to his parents it's so far past that now. the look tyme is giving great….. the hand on the back of the neck. leave me here to die actually.
oh god this horror movie shot. oh lmaooo. den my guy. oh I don't recognise that dude hmmm. title?
great just straight up walked in front of that car. dude. if there was ever a time to be aware of your surroundings… oh it was korn so who cares. wait he's got a red number plate too, that does NOT match your car.
can't park there.
the man with his shirt unbuttoned down to his navel is taking about how serious this business is
there's that older brother "I'll do it so you don't have to" idc I live for this kinda stuff
honestly I thought korn was gonna be waiting inside great's apartment so that was way less intense than I was expecting lol
CLOCK'S BACK!!
OH MY GOD. holy shit great's dad is. incredible. awful. lovely little note that he said stay away from great before he said stay away from the company. (the like, heartbeat in the OST? gorgeous) take the money and then do your thing anyway, like what are they gonna do? call the cops?
I wonder if that's his maternal or paternal grandmother. it doesn't matter I just like knowing stuff
dude nan has been through it, let her have her revenge!! it's not like she's getting the 5 million so. I understand her.
aww manee's out of hospital.
korn getting slapped…you love to see it
since she mentioned her dad being powerful I am now assuming she and title are siblings lol. korn doesn't deserve this woman she should marry me instead
I'm way more into the idea of ep 4 being great's first time with a dude because that makes tyme blocking him now all the more delicious 😌
I wanna just. applaud all of this. the sound. the cinematography. the look on her face.
oh shit great's gonna get shot now isn't he
(did his mum kill korn's mum)
first flashback/flashforward in a little while. this guy is bold and dedicated to his job - nobody heard the first gunshot?
half of great's face covered in blood spatter….perfect. the clock has started.
hmmmm. okay. this better not turn out to all just be in great's head because that is the worst of all theories lol.
thank god den can recognise people from split-second glances he's the most powerful character ever
this is what tyme's wearing when he gets shot in ep 1. the BLOOD ON HIS FACE cutting in and out with the light? hellllloooo. next episode is tyme right?
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
"he is partially so appealing simply because he IS an untouchable mini mangod"
it's fascinating to me that so many people have used the exact word "alien" to describe him ever since he was a teenager, how does that affect a person and how we view him
but also, who is Arwen in that scenario, ney or kun?
u are not wrong!
(ETA: sorry this is so long but you came to my house so i am assuming you're fine with the following!!!! SORRY! BUT ALSO NOT!) I have like an entire wine-fueled musing (tm) locked and loaded about messi: the alien phenom, and it meanders over the following discussion topics that always come to mind whenever i see stuff like that: 1. why the fuck did they choose alien?! insane ability surpassing that of a human, but also being terrifying, unreal, exotic, unnatural, off-putting. both building up and explaining and dismissing and celebrating all in one breath: the little alien! I have no idea when it was first used, (I think very shortly after his debut?) but it was likely also reintroduced as fuel to the big CR7 vs Messi debate: cristiano was loud and proud and meanwhile messi was...just some guy who was very good at football. Emotionless, one might say. I think combined with his very well-known soft spokenness and the height thing, it was an option for setting up these opposites as the undesirable freak and the sex god. Whatever, I dropped out of journalsim. anyway. Eventually it becomes more of a positive connotation. As a complement, it sets the bar pretty high, but I think it's also a reputation every single person who watches him play is intent on upholding, even if they're opponents. I think in its most generous interpretation, in alien leo we as a collective sporting community are trying to hold on to something emotionally resonant without calling it that.
Every single thing that makes a match so exciting in the moment also has the power to puncture an idol's career just as easily. So it is frankly insane to have been able to watch his whole career thus far and be cognizant that we are supposed to be watching something incredible and for it to be sustained, by his performance and our baited-breath goodwill. A PR wet dream, if I am being real with you. And the success also increases the aptness of this moniker, so he's not freed from it, it just becomes more and more of who he is. So in a less generous reading: this would have become a curse in other circumstances.
I would love to do some sort of media analysis on how messi was described vs maradona vs pele vs ronaldinho vs every other south american phenom who has made an inedlible mark on football and the world. I think the arc from freak (negative) to freak (affectionate) is helped a lot by the fact that he has no personality* and played for the same team for twenty years. But jesus look at me go! ANHYWAY.
I also think that "alien" implies a kind of longevity that no one should have pinned on him. You can grow out of being a freak or a savant, but you don't grow out of being an alien. You adapt but are eternally strange. So that's weird, right. And it has morphed over time into something more affectionate, but it still has this forever separate suggestion that is a little haunting, if I am being honest!
2. why leo. i think about that a lot, actually, how like neymar did insane shit with his feet as a teen that i cannot believe but he's brazilian and he dances and he kissed the girls and made them cry, that's primo ace footballer narrative right there baybey! no need to call him an alien, we have the narrative set! (and messi already existed, and there could not be another yet.)
3. in its least generous interpretation, and to me the saddest: being some little kid from argentina sent across the world to spain for life-changing injections and being an outsider from that point on is a reality of this guy;s life. "messi's suitcase" did the rounds after the WC, but its useful to remember that he legit was what americans would call a legal alien, esp in the parlance of that time. i have zero idea how he felt about this personally, or how it would feel to see yourself called an alien, professionally, after devoting your young life to another country. but the narrative presented to us, the audience, from his birth as a football savant to present is that he wants to do it for Argentina or bust. So! one must assume that made an impact.
I think also with the arg natl team we are seeing players who already have this media-built image to grasp on to when they're trying to explain their feelings. I think, by the way, these feelings are beautiful and very real, and also objectively hilarious to witness when acted out on a man who is still just some guy. obviously they all, to some degree, are entranced by leo the legend, and whereas previous generations grew up playing with him, these fellas grew up watching him. so he's already at a remove.
Also Neymar would be Arwen, and Kun would be Boromir. Ney has the enchanting elfin personality, Kun would look great dying in Leo's arms.
* no visible personality. obviously he's bewitched every man he's ever been in a 10-foot radius of, snagged a lovely life partner and according to less giddy teammates he has jokes for days. he just has 0 interest in doing any of this publicly and hit the generational sweet spot of being forgiven for having no social media presence.
**Also, this isn't entirely true, it just seems like it is. He's rolled his eyes and been shitty and flopped face-first on the ground and spat and stuff, I am just as collectively bought into the whole deal! ITS ME, HI, IM THE PROBLEM ITS ME
#anon#this is not coherent at all but i don't want to do writing and this is juicy#he is after all just some guy!
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
I SEE YOU, I CHERISH YOU ♡
INSTRUCTIONS: positivity challenge !! list 6 blogs that have interacted with you in some way, shape, and / or form and show your appreciation !! let’s recognize each other’s efforts !! repost, do not reblog !! in no particular order tbh.
@deathleads — let me just preface this by saying by not following Cosmos and any character she chooses to bring to life that you are missing out tremendously. the passions shown for their oc and their easy nature is just so easy to get to know and like. This is without a doubt the truth. They are so down for everything and come ready to gush at all hours about storylines or what have you. Their oc is superb, very thought out, and you can tell they’ve been with this muse for so long just because of how easy they make it look. I recommend this one here. makes me feel like my writing is garbage. HAAAAAA.
@monstriiss — this is another good oc. draith makes sukuna down bad and we really do sometimes be up at all hours talking about acid blood making sukuna go full crackhead at like 2 in the morning. The muse is a big milf, terrifying and likely to treat you like gator food for any reason at all. and we love this. we love this scary mama. i eat this shit up like candy. another person you really, REALLY need to get to know. It’s so worth it. i try so hard to impress this one. don’t at me.
@thevcssel / @frcstie — This person is, actually, so nice. Jamie is the sweetest of people like so adorable and squish the cheeks. Yuuji is Sukuna’s little meow meow and his son, even when he’s a bit of a meanie. and their multi is gonna be just as good ngl. I love them. They write so well and any character that gets picked up is well-written. Good job, I’m so proud of you, my little meow meow. I can’t wait to interact even further in the future.
@destructivour — no matter what Ainz is such a cool person, so down to earth, so positive, and encouraging. We may not speak every day, but I am always following your feed. always. I consume everything you give. The understanding and voice Ainz has for Grimm is unreal. Ainz is a real one tbh, but I absolutely think everyone knows this. He’s a real positive voice in rp and there is a reason people love this person. If you haven’t just glanced at this blog or any of his others, you need to.
@hortussecretum — Apple is insane. I am convinced and I love it. They have such crazy muses, chaos is their brand, and I am never bored. They really do like to spread and give their attention when you need it, i swear. there are days I feel like not enough, stressed, and it’s like staring at a blank reply for thousands of hours before frustration takes over and Apple comments something that makes you caveman scratch your skull and YOU WHOT? I will never in my life forget the mommy kink tag exists on my blog, because they decided pure, unadulterated chaos was the answer. Unapologetically genuine, really nice, and liable to send you crack shit as soon as you awaken. it is worth it to add them.
@civara / @shometsu — can I just say ... you’ll never find a better duo. like I just ... PB&J been real silent since these two dropped, i swear to the gods. these two are the dynamic and writing you want and aspire to, but then, you realize your attention span is on it’s lowest settings. I just really, truly recommend getting into their stuff and getting into them, too. they’re so talented in terms of editing, drawing, and writing. The way they understand their characters is top tier. LIKE I’LL SCREAM IT AND I’LL KICK SHIT OVER, FOLLOW THEM BOTH. witness greatness.
honorable mention: @slayersaided — can I just say this little guy has been with me for so long? anywhere I've gone? I just ? I literally JUST started kny and finished only just this morning. I had no idea who or what character they were, but I really was about their writing and interaction. always with a rather dry sounding quip on dash and I consume their posts en mass. Now, I can actually understand what’s being said and mentioned and I’m about it. I’ve been lurking and I swear it’s time to come at you.
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Kind
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)
Warning: Swearing
Genre: Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Having been chosen by the gang to be a guest streamer on today’s stream of Among Us, it’s safe to say Y/N’s super excited but also a bit nervous. The whole of her anxiety gets lifted off her when she meets someone with the exact same vibe as hers - yeah you guessed it.
Requested by @monizzle96 Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is! I hope you come across it and read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤
This has to be the fiftieth time I’ve checked my setup in the past twenty four hours. But no, I’m definitely not nervous, what are you talking about. Pshhh. Nah, being nervous isn’t in my brand. Plus, what do I have to make me nervous - a group of famous streamers inviting me onto their stream to play Among Us with them because they enjoyed my own streams? Ok yeah, that’s a pretty good reason. Not gonna lie, I almost chucked my phone out of excitement when I received that DM from Toast, telling me they’d picked me to be their guest streamer for today’s date. My stomach was doing somersaults for a good forty-eight hours following that text and then the anxiety slowly started setting in fueled by the expectations they probably have of me.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not inexperienced in the streaming field, I’ve been a streamer longer than some of the members of Toast’s streamer gang actually. But I never managed to garner that big of a following which I’m honestly quite ok with. I have a modest - ok, maybe larger than modest - following consisting of incredibly loyal fans which I will never stop being grateful for. They are all so respectable of me, my privacy and my boundaries. They know the main rules: no shit-talking in the chat or in any of my comment sections, no bashing other YouTubers in my comments/chat, and most definitely not asking for a face reveal. Fun fact: I didn’t even set up that last rule, they all just collectively know not to ask for it.
I’ve been keeping my brand pretty low-key to avoid garnering some unwanted attention - some of which I’ve already experienced on certain social media platforms following the full body pictures I posted on there - face not visible of course. I tend to also have my webcam on, facing towards my hands working away on the keyboard sometimes when I stream. I don’t know why people obsess over faceless content creators’ hands, but I appreciate the enthusiasm - it also drives me to do a manicure every now and then which ain’t so bad, self-care and all that you know.
Now, back to the subject of my ridiculous nervousness.
You see, it has layers.
I’m nervous of ‘preforming’ underwhelmingly and I’m nervous of what my own fans will think of the person I will become during this stream. They know me as a super chill and laid-back person, which I am by the way, but they might think I’m putting on a show if I exhibit any nervous gestures/vocabulary. I highly doubt they would, but the possibility is not letting my mind rest. And now that it’s about ten minutes till the stream starts, I’m getting doing my best to calm my nerves.
They are all just people. You know they are super chill too. Just be yourself, that’s why they invited you, because you are yourself on all your streams. They liked you for your personality, humor, maybe even your gaming skills. So chill the hell out and be yourself, damn it!
Easier thought than put into action that’s for sure.
I start my stream five minutes early just so I can vibe with my viewers for a little while before I have to meet the gang. My fans always have a way of injecting me with confidence, they remind me of where I was when I started and how far I’ve come. How much I achieved when I thought I’d be nothing and no one, someone the algorithm would simply overlook. But then they entered my life and I entered theirs and it all became much better than I ever thought it would get to be. I rarely tell myself ‘good job’ for the milestones I’ve reached or the hard work I’ve put into my content, but that’s probably cause I orient myself based on that quote from the movie Whiplash: ‘There are no two words in the English language more harmful than good job’ - simply put, I’m never satisfied with what I do and I always strive to do better. My fans, however, make sure I don’t go overboard with it - always serving as a reminder that I’ve done plenty for myself and others. And that’s what makes an amazing fandom, one I consider family.
Whoa, when did those five minutes fly by?!
Ah shit, here we go. Deep breaths, Y/N you got this.
“Hello!“ I say as I enter the Discord call, subconsciously biting my lower lip, grateful the camera isn’t capturing it. However, I make a mental note to keep my hands steady cause that’s the one part of me people can actually see and the last thing I want is for them to see how much my fingers are trembling.
“Oh hi, Y/N!“ Toast is the first one to greet me, “Welcome to the stream! Thank you so much for accepting our invitation.“
“Thank you for having me and inviting me, Toast. This is a huge deal for me. You guys are basically YouTube legends, this is unreal to me.“ I reply, cringing immediately afterwards because of my fangirl rambling. Great way to make first impressions, Y/N. Bravo.
To be fair, they already have an impression of you. Quit stressing.
Aright, you’ve got a point, me.
“Oh please, we owe all that to our fans. We’re really nothing special. All streamers are almost completely alike, we all owe where we are to the people who helped us make it there - our fans. We’re no legends.“ Toast says, bringing a small smile to my face as well as a light pink blush to my cheeks, “And from what I’ve seen, you yourself have quite the following. And your fans seem to adore you.“
“And I absolutely adore them.“ I chuckle, “They mean the world to me. They are the reason I’m here today.”
“Then we have to give them a special thank you, don’t you think?“ The teasing, familiar giggle, widens my smile - it’s Rae, “Nice to meet you, Y/N! I’m Rae, and, no cap, I’m quite a fan of your content. No joke, I binged your entire series of Resident Evil 7 as soon as I found your channel when Toast said he’d invite you.“
This rattles me a bit. I can hardly believe it - am I really receiving a compliment from an A-list name in the streaming world? My fans must be hella proud of me right now. A quick glance at my chat confirms that they indeed are. That in and of itself fills me with joy and newfound confidence.
“Oh Gosh, thank you so much Rae! That means the world to me. You’re all so sweet.“ I reply, lifting my ice cold hands to cool down my burning cheeks, my lips spread into a grin, my stomach filled with butterflies.
“Oh please, we have some real savages around here.“ A male voice, seemingly Charlie’s scoffs, “Don’t overlook us please.“
“Wait, we do?“ A deep voice, one I immediately know the owner of speaks up, “Who? How come I don’t know about that?“
I can’t help bust snort, “Nice to meet you, Corpse. Sarcasm central, I see.”
He laughs, “Just returning it to where it’s due. Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Sick Outlast series, by the way.“
Ok, wait, I have two A-list streamers complimenting my content. Ok, I’m bound to crack open a few beers to celebrate later cause OH MY GOD.
“Thanks! I’m a horror junkie so I’d be lying if I said I haven’t binge watched all your story-times. Personal favorites are the deep web ones, they fascinate me.“
“Oh, you’re one of my kind even more than I expected, huh?“ He replies, the tone of his voice changing, raising a bit due to what I can only describe as excitement and enthusiasm. “I’ve had people tell me it’s twisted, but I really like seeing the lengths to which the fucked up human mind can go to. Like, the shit I’ve read is insane! Some stories I didn’t narrate cause I would’ve probably had my video taken down, it was that messed up.“
My eyes widen, sharing the same excitement at the thought of digging deeper into this phenomenon, “Careful, Corpse, you’re walking a dangerous line of tempting me to deep-dive on Reddit in search of those exact stories.”
“No need.“ Corpse says, his tone now taking up a bit of a cocky note, “I still got them all saved, I can send them to you no problem.“
“Please do! I seriously gotta read them now. If I can’t sleep afterwards, I’m blaming you, Corpse. Just FYI.“ I say, giggling slightly, finding myself all but completely comfortable now. I wonder where all that anxiety went?
“Blame fully taken. Given that I’m not much of a sleeper, I’ll keep you company whenever you think there’s a killer hiding in your closet or fear a red room pop-up will appear on your computer screen.“ He replies, chuckling.
“Um, that’s oddly specific.“ Charlie comments, “Been there yourself, buddy?”
“Perhaps.“ Corpse wheezes, getting a laugh out of me too, “I will neither confirm nor deny.“
“You know what, I’ll just private message you my number so if you see it call you at some ungodly hour, you don’t freak the fuck out. Sounds good?“ I ask, already prepping to type it out and send it to him.
“Perfect. Wait...“ he pauses for a second, sounding puzzled for a second, “You don’t have mine.“
“Oh, do I not?“ I reply with a sinister tone - thought to answer the question, I of course don’t have his number.
“Oh, do you?“ He sasses me right back. “If so then you don’t need me to send it to you. Cool.“
Ah, shit
“Wait, no! I-I need to confirm it’s the correct one!“
Damn, never did I think I’d be complimented by some of the most important streamers on this platform, but to get a number of theirs too? That’s a whole another level that will take me time to process. But I’ll do that another time, right now, I have to kick these people’s butts in Among Us and later I have some deep web stories to read.
Turns out, all it takes to get comfortable in a new surrounding is someone of your kind. And Corpse is definitely one of my kind.
@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse
#corpse husband#corpse#corpse fanfic#corpse fanfiction#corpse fluff#corpse fic#corpse fandom#corpse simp#corpse x reader#corpse x you#corpse x y/n#corpse imagines#corpse imagine#corpse husband x y/n#corpse husband fanficiton#corpse husband x reader#corpse husband fanfic#corpse husband fluff#corpse husband fic#corpse husband fanfiction#corpse husband imagine#corpse among us#amigops#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#fandom#fluff#fan#request
251 notes
·
View notes
Text
There are few fictional relationships that make me feel more unhinged than Mickey & Terry. And I’m sure it’s been dissected to death, but I think about their confrontation at the beginning of 10x11 a lot and it makes me feel extremely. So here I am to talk about why. CW: abuse and homophobia below the cut (I mean, it’s Terry).
I don’t think I need to give a history lesson here, but the abuse and violence Mickey endured by Terry’s hand unfortunately shaped a lot of Mickey’s life. Mickey didn’t take forever to be comfortable and open with Ian because he wanted to, he didn’t marry a woman because he wanted to, he didn’t live a lie for so long because he wanted to. This all happened because he actually, literally feared for his life. Additionally, there was the complicated fact of him starving and striving for his abuser’s approval. He wanted more than just bodily safety; he wanted to be in good standing with Terry. This is despite enduring what he described as torture. Terry “tortured [him] every day for years,” and yet he still desired a relationship with him. This happens sometimes in abusive relationships, it’s definitely not unusual that he felt that way. But it’s still hard to watch, knowing about their background and knowing that Mickey was aware of what Terry was capable of.
Mickey knowing what Terry was capable of is precisely why their interaction at the beginning of 10x11 made me go “yooooo” out loud at my TV at the end of the scene. I had to pause it, my eyes were bugging out of my head, I had to let it sink in, etc. etc. It really struck me hard. Mickey heard Terry shouting slurs at him from outside on the damn sidewalk where anyone could hear, and he put on an unamused look and stepped outside and walked right up to him. Terry pulled out a gun, and Mickey did not even flinch and instead pulled out one of his own. He listened to his father berate and then threaten him, and instead of backing down he proceeded to do the opposite of what he had done his whole life and deliberately said shit that would piss Terry off. And on top of it, he then went back into the house and started planning his big gay wedding with specific details designed to make Terry mad. He wanted to rub his happiness, his gay love, in that prick’s face. And he begins this endeavor with that line “I definitely love one.”
There’s an important detail in that exchange (“You must really love cock.” “I definitely love one.”) that is what ultimately elevates this scene from merely insanity-inducing to "Jessie will never be normal about this ever in their entire life," and that’s Mickey’s wording. It’s such a good comeback and it hits so hard, but it’s important that it also hits Terry hard. And it does, because he used language that Terry understood. I think if he had phrased it differently by saying something like “I just love Ian” or “I’m just in love” or something similar, it wouldn’t have landed the same with Terry. Terry had taken Mickey’s gayness and reduced it to something so base and vulgar because he hates gay people and doesn’t care to know shit about the gay experience. And instead of throwing his gay love in Terry’s face by using language that’s less horrendously offensive, Mickey fucking embraces it. Mickey takes Terry’s words and twists them to suit himself and throws them back at him. Mickey’s gay and he loves cock, and he definitely loves his partner’s cock. You know, his partner? Who he’s in love with? And gonna marry? Because the gay experience isn’t just about sex? Mickey’s not getting married because he wants to get fucked, he’s getting married because he’s in love. Terry doesn’t give a shit about all that and Mickey knows this, so his comeback utilizes language that Terry can wrap his head around, but he still manages to convey the fact that he’s in fucking love with one person. It’s affirmation and ownership and it is so badass. Terry was actively trying to be cruel and Mickey threw back at him in one of the most elegant comebacks I have ever seen. And yeah, we know Mickey is capable of being vulgar as hell, so it’s not like saying something like this is particularly out of character for him anyway. It just worked so damn well in accomplishing the goal of getting Terry to shut the fuck up while conveying to Terry and the audience that he’s in love and willing to engage in risky behavior to defend it.
I mean, he was doing all this with a gun in his face. Terry wanted him to feel fear, he wanted him to feel threatened because he genuinely thought that Mickey deserved to experience violence, and he wanted him to feel ashamed. But Mickey decided years ago that he was done feeling fucking ashamed, and he was so accustomed to Terry’s violent behavior. So whether he stood up to him with a gun in his face because he was desensitized to Terry’s violence or because he just decided to be brave and ignore whatever fear he may have been feeling in that moment, either reason speaks volumes. If he did it because he was desensitized to Terry’s violence then that really speaks to the tragedy of his upbringing. If he did it because he just decided to be brave in that moment then that speaks to just how much he was willing to risk for his principles. Either way, he could’ve ended up dead. We know this because Terry does end up trying to shoot him in the end. And yes, Mickey had his gun aimed at Terry, but I don’t know if I think he’d actually shoot him and I think his actions towards Terry in season 11 may speak to that. But Terry would shoot. And he does shoot later on. Again, he knew what Terry is capable of. And he stood up to him anyway and it was amazing to watch. Mickey used to be so afraid of Terry that he feared for his life while vying for approval. He used to live in a way that was the very antithesis of what he actually wanted for himself, just for his piece of shit father. And in this scene he shows us just how far removed he is from that fearful kid now, openly in love with his partner and standing up to his father in a way that will expressly make him angry about his gayness specifically, the thing that he was so tortured over in his youth. Tortured because he was hiding out of fear and the internal conflict that he experienced because of that, and then physically and emotionally tortured by his father once he’s found out. That abuse may have shaped his past, but he was ready to move the fuck on and not let it define his future. So this scene is just unreal. A neat little package of character and relationship/dynamic development in a little 70-second scene that packs an enormous punch.
#just feeling unhinged about mickey milkovich again nothing new here#alright i made the post where's howl and kee#howl this is probably a lot more rambly than you were expecting but i had to get it out there#mickey#mickey & terry#gallavich adjacent#shameless#shameless meta#gallavich
141 notes
·
View notes
Text
A different take on SessKag relationship or why it would be more realistic than InuKag.
Let me begin with
Sesshomaru's and Kagome's past and how they are similar.
Sesshomaru had always been a very sentimental and emotionally receptive being. He had loved and cherished his dad the most. Loving and competing with him, wanting to surpass him, desiring recognition and acceptance so much so that his entire world revolved around his father. He did not want the swords because they were powerful or the bs about supreme conquest. What is that shit? Sesshomaru never needed that. The swords, especially Tessaiga was the most important acceptance to Sess. I will get back to this later.
Now Kagome. This kid was born and then we never saw her dad even when she was a kid. Another classic case of growing without a dad? Perhaps. But I feel her grandpa filled her missing dad's place. That is why the kid grew up in a lovely household, filled with love and peace and made Kagome what she was later on, a selfless girl who wants to love and protect her friends. Because that is what she learnt. Her grandpa, mom, everyone and her own family dynamics taught her how important it was to cherish the ones she loved.
What they initially thought of Inuyasha in their life
Now back to Sess. When his dad died, he dies saving Izayoi. What is the thing he feels at the time I wondered. Surely devastated? Yes, but even worse. His most important person, his goal, the thing his life revolved around was gone. And for what? To protect a weak, useless bitch like Izayoi? Here is a thing, he never knew Izayoi but knew the hut had collapsed on his dad when Izayoi had escaped. What can a teen feel when they hear such a thing? 'That useless bitch, ran away when my dad was in danger and cost him his life. Fuck that bitch and that kid they made. Useless, all humans are useless and weak.' This was really where his hatred came from. Probably.
Kagome on the other hand from the beginning was shown as a selfless kid, who loved both humans and demons alike. Reason? She had never lived in the feudal era. She was a kid grown in a society where everyone is placed on a equal pedestal. How would she, a modern kid understand the bad blood between demons and humans? If she were ever born in Feudal Japan, would things have changed? Maybe. Then she falls into a world where nothing was similar to where she was from. She was frightened, unsure and confused. And then Inuyasha came into her life. Honestly their first meeting was not romantic and pretty terrific in a sense. That was a weird day for Kagome. She fell into an alien world only heard in fairy tales, got involved in a weird prophecy, learnt she was a mythical sort of being herself and then got attacked by a guy who had saved her only seconds before, all ready to rip her heart out. In such a case, the 'osuwari' was probably a safe word for her. Why she uses it later in the series? Probably because she never trusted Inuyasha and felt more comfortable using a word which gave her power over him. Honestly, what would you expect? Kisses and love showers?
Analysis: Kagome was still scared of Inuyasha for a long time and did not trust him completely.
Before Inu no Taisho's tomb battle
Kagome before this went home and then cane back because she felt that fixing the Shikon was her duty. More honestly, she just returned coz Yura attacked and she wanted her family to be safe. Here I want to take some time to gush over how cool Kagome is. Intelligent, smart and extremely powerful. How she understood that Yura's skull was her weakness and breaks the god forsaken thing with just an arrow. That is some level of OPness. Who says Kags is useless?
Anyways, after that when Inuyasha called her 'Kagome', a lot of the viewers thought that Kagome was ecstatic because it was romantic and she was in love. But that is bs. It is not possible to love someone a week later they tried to gut your heart out. It is masochistic and unreal. Kagome over here felt a sense of acceptance from a guy who she felt previously hated her enough to kill her. And that to Kagome was a sign of friendship and more like, 'don't worry, I am not at least gonna attempt to kill you anymore.'
Kagome, inheritently a person who gives a hand when given a finger. She accepts Inu as her friend and they were far from being lovers.
It is exactly this time that Sess attacks them. And quite cruely might I say. Bringing Inu's dead mom like that was not funny and Sess was an outright jerk for doing that no matter how much he hated Inu and Izayoi. He is all weird and sarcatic at high levels. And Kags hated him. She hated how he was attacking this one friend she had made in the era. She hated how cruel this bastard was and how much pain her friend was going through. And her own lovely bond with her brother did not help her to look into their complex brotherly bond which seemed to her more like some battle royale. She probaably hated the bitch for showing up and hurting her friend like that even when he, being the older brother should have loved his younger brother and nurtured him like she would do for Souta.
For Sess, it was really weird and shitty all over. A basic human bitch, standing behind Inu like she was weak fawn. Reminded him so much of Izayoi. Someone who never even tried saving his dad. That was why his sarcastic words were like, "Inuyasha, it suits you so much to have a human behind you". Ya and he was irritated by looking at how helpless af the bitch was. He was narcisstic, filipant of Kags presence and all around indifferent to a 'weak human filthy woman', who he felt was just like the one for whom his dad died.
Surprise is how he did not outright murder her. Perhaps he felt like they were worthless and beneath his boots.
Lol, these two are the best.
Inside Inu No Taisho's tomb
Kags was really angry with this bitch who just chained her up, clawed a pearl out of her friend's eye and then jumped into a black hole. That is why she followed with, "This sort of a person, with no blood or humanity in his veins, I cannot forgive him" and then she chased. Even Inu was like, WTF bro. It was fun. Then she spouted lines like, " Take the sword Inuyasha, it will be like a hit to his pride, what a shame!"
How tf did she know about how much his pride hurt him. Lol felt like Kags knew Sess more than Inu ever would and they only met. That was some soulmate level shit right there. Lol!
Then there was Sess who was outright dismissing Kags and she was not even a spec of dust in his eyes. Then she went and pulled that sword out. Remember the scene where he was so surprised that he stopped the battle with Inu and turned around and LOOKED. Like really LOOKED. It was such a heart stopping moment and for good measures as well. He saw a girl, a woman standing there, holding an inheritance which was supposed to be his and she did something he could not. Did Tessaiga accept her then, did his father accept her more than him? He was baffled, confused and low-key awed. That was why he said, "What are you?" And legit measured her top to bottom. That was some turning point for Sess. Something that proved to him that all humans cannot be dismissed. But he was in rage. How can a mere human be worthy of Tessaiga and melted her along with that sword. I wonder if it was his second test to see whether Tessaiga would protect her or not. And then it did!
Sess went ape-shit crazy after that. A sword he desired for so long (The sword used to protect Izayoi was a thorn in his heart. Made him feel like his father had chosen a human over him. But if the sword had accepted him, it would have proved that his dad had still loved him, thought of him). That was the significance of Tessaiga to him. Power sure, but more of an acceptance. His dad's acceptance. And then what happened? The sword preferred a human who then gave it to his damned hated brother.
Aftermath of tomb battle
Kagome never really liked Sess's guts and probably had no form of sympathy towards someone like him. On the other hand things picked up with her and Inu's relation. She came to know some facts about Kik. And her inferiority complex began with her incarnate. But having a part of Kik's soul in her, began her obsession with Inu. She strived to understand him, make a better person of himself. But their relation was still not there to lovers.
Then Sess came across Naraku. He probably just wanted to dick around more with Inu and accepted the human hand.
2nd battle for Tessaiga
Sess's desire to possess the Tessaiga had increased at this point. His rage of having his arm cut off by that sword felt like the worst rejection from his dad. He was going insane and might have wanted to kill Inu for real in this fight. He was in no mood for theatrics in this one, unlike the tomb where he actually watched some InuKag drama and even applauded (lol). He was absolute business this time. He snached the sword and showed Inu exactly why he should not get that sword, 'You cannot even make the wind rift, why should you be more worthy?'
He meant to kill Inu and then Kags arrow sailed in, charging with enough power to even cancel the demonic energy filled into the sword by Sess himself.
His thoughts were for the same reason, " She canceled Tessaiga's transformation? Who is this girl?"
His respect scale jumped for her here. He truly had never met anyone who could rival his power to such extent. He had never met a girl who stood so powerfully in face of danger to protect this some half-breed scum. She was like the embodiment of everything he had hoped Izayoi to be to his dad. A strong woman who would wager her life to save the one she holds dear. Sess had learnt this fact from his dad's death. To sacrifice in name of love and then in this fight he understood how much that meant both for Inuyasha and Kagome. He probably somewhat understood what this feeling was after seeing these two.
Sess had an idea of love and protection and Kags became its centre. She was this vague expectation Sess had of human love and an absolute loyalty towards whom you love most. He felt complicated towards her. He respected her.
3rd Tessaiga battle
Sess's most sceptical battle yet. Why break the tessaiga? 'I will break it if I can't have it!' Desperate much?. Then the wind drift appears and for the first time Sess acknowledges Inu. For maybe being a somewhat worthy of having Taisho's blood, only if a little bit. He is saved by Tenseiga. Oh, how he hated this worthless sword more. This sword could not cut throught things and saves his life. What a worthless shit.
Kagome's narrative here was important. "How can he weild the Tenseiga? He needs a compassionate heart for that." Always wondered why Kags was the one to say this. But realised the reason later on.
Rin
Obviously the most controversial topic of Inuverse. What Sess felt for Rin, why was she there.
Rin has often been compared to be the Kagome version of Sess. And that is the only truth. She came in like a ray of sunshine when he was in most need. He was in self doubt, hate towards Inu and complex emotions towards Kags. And then Rin was there with the exact same face and the same warm feeling like Kags. Even he knew what InuKag were to each other then and no matter how much he respected Kags, he was not really interested in a further relation with Kags. But his deeply unsated desire to understand his dad's mentality and reason behind saving a human was what made him think of Rin. As she was his chance to understand that. His chance to understand why his dad could do that, why Inu could do that and why humans like Kags and Rin could save and love demons. It was not romantic in any sense. He had a confusion and Rin was his way towards a solution. Though it was a different fact that he loved her later on and cherished and protected her. Enough to feel that there was no meaning to his anything if she was not there.
So yes in a way, she is Kags embodiment in Sess's life, a picture of Kags selfless love. His desire to truly understand such beings called selfless humans and the result of his single minded belief of human women being trash and unable to love shattering.
And for fun just to contradict Kags speculations, for first time ever, Sess uses the sword and we viewers realise how wrong Kags was. Sess had every bit of compassion in his heart.
Later events
The events went on with Kags finally understanding her position in Inu's life and her single-minded chase to be accepted by Inu as just Kagome and not Kikyo's reflection. I do not even know if this could be called love or just a misinterpreted need of attention from someone you hold dear. But whatever, we realise Kags is in love with Inu now and still cannot stop from feeling compassion towards Kikyo. Honestly she and Sess are truly two opposite sides of a spectrum.
Sess on the other hand gets Tokijin and attacks Inuyasha. This time around, I highly doubt he was still chasing Tessaiga. It had more evolved into his need to show he is more powerful than Inu. 'What you do best, I can do better.'
Stopping Inu from transforming
In this the most debatable question was whether he was there to stop Inu or not.
Sess had wanted to see and experiment the limits of Inu's blood beast.
After some fighting, Kags jumped in. Sess stared at her, like forever. That staring tho. Even when she was like, "Stay away, you idiot." Sess stared. For Sess, that was what he admired the most in Kags. Her selfless devotion. He was staring at that fearless figure who once again surprised him by being a sacrifice to save her loved ones. She was to Sess what he had always thought of 'love' to be. She was the embodiment of the term 'love' to Sess. For a guy who knew nothing of how to define emotions, it was Kags who showed him what love was. And thus he jumped over and over again in front of Rin to protect her. She taught him how to cherish even the even the most weak individual in a group, and thus he protected Jaken.
Rin was there to show him the same thing everyday. But no matter how much Rin showed him her own loyality, love and warmth, Kags always remained that shining beam to him. I will say later on how I understood this.
Kag's love was the validity of his dad's sacrifice. A way for him to make sense of his dad's mindless death over protecting some weak human.
And in this scene for the first time ever, Kags saw Sess as more than an insufferable pest to her friends. She saw his noble ideals and realised why he was there and thus she thought, "Was he here to save Inuyasha?"
It is very curious as to why Kags was again given these lines. It was probably because her opinion mattered, to Sess it did. And we will see more why in the future.
Random encounters
There was one time when Kags saw Rin while Jaken was trying to steal Tessaiga and she had asked herself, "Why is a little human girl traveling with Sess?' It was again a small thing which she did not need to feel but was very imp. for her development towards Sess. How she started to understand him more.
Kohaku incident
Here we saw how was the first time Sess listened to Kags.
Kags opinion mattered. Inu's mattered and when he realised that Kohaku was being used he let him go. There was one reason that he did not want to be used, the next I am sure was for Kags and Inu. He knew then that Kohaku was imp. to them and he stopped. Big character jump for him.
Then the most curious fact was how Kags knew what the girl meant to him, "Please let him go Sesshomaru, the girl is fine."
Kagome: Thanks Sesshomaru!
Sesshomaru: I just never wanted to be used by Naraku and fall into his trap.
Lol...
Then after Rin left, Kags thoughts about how she had left with Sess and was awed . An important point for her change in feelings towards Sess. She understood the guy was changing and Rin was changing him.
The fun fact was how she was instantly in love with this little girl and that would become important later on.
More random events..
After that it was shown that many times Kags was the only one who could stop a fight bet. the brothers. Example that time when he fought with Inu to get some direction for Naraku. And then Kags came and told him to go north or something and he was like, "That is all I wanted to know." And left.
What is to be seen in these parts is how RT made only him and her interact like this. He listening to her like they have been friends forever.
The saving of Kanta's father was also an example of how much she affected him.
Her plea to save Kanta's dad even when no one believed and no one bothered to ask him. Tensaiga moved because he felt deeply moved by her plea. He might have never wanted to voice it but since Tensaiga only worked when the weilder felt compassion and a need to save someone. Sess must have felt it subconsciously and Tensaiga had stired. Or it had stired because it is a SessKag shipper as well. Lol!
Mukotsu
I wonder how Sess knew Kags was in trouble. Another fun fact like how he appears at times when Inu is not there to save Kags. Sess is there. Probably he knew her scent too well and hence could even distinguish between that and the poison. After that was the gruesome death of Mukotsu. The thing to notice over her was how large Sess looked in that hut doorway, it was a symbolism to how big and huge his protective self looks when he is protecting Kagome. A very romantic thing indeed. The first time he protects someone who is not under his protection. A complete selfless act if considered from his pov. Sess being a very private person and while saving Kagome showed her place in his heart. Yeah and that was very visible from how he killed Mukotsu.
The takeaway from this episode is not this though. It was the fact that Kags defended Sess. For the first time ever, all the good deeds she had seen him doing had outplayed her hatred for him. She accepeted him as a friend with these words, "No Inuyasha, he was here to protect us, he saved us." It was a completely unnecessary detail in the whole scheme of this episode but very important for Sess. Her acceptance matters, her opinion matters and Sess is a Tsundere.
Sesshomaru: I did not save YOU, I just killed him coz he did not answer me properly.
This proved how much she affects him, rattles him and how much her life means to him. And an unspoken promise to himself to protect her when Inu was not around.
Fight with Shishinki
No one ever mentions this fight. But there is a very important SK interaction in here. Something which was important for Sess. Kagome's understanding.
When Sess was lost in the same darkness of never being accepted by his dad, Shishinki made things worse by saying Tenseiga was a cast out of Tessaiga and it was given as a leftover to Taisho's least fav. son. Sesshomaru was hurt, lost, and his daddy issues, his biggest weakness was sharply opened by a knife, cruely and Kagome's words saved him.
Kagome: But there might have been a reason their dad had done this.
Kags belief that Taisho had infact not rejected Sess was like a balm to his soul, the only thing he had needed to hear throughout his life. The thing which made him accept in the end that Tensaiga was there to protect Inuyasha, the thing that was needed to sort of activate Tessaiga and then he finally formed his biggest and truest meido. It was romantic, touching and outright heavenly. Then it was made cute with Inu's awkward concern. It was the best ep. as of yet.
Kagome's deep concern and her understanding of Sess's pain was brilliant and alien level insane. She should not have, but she did and that's why they felt more like soulmates.
Battle with Magatsuhi
Sess had gone batshit crazy when Magatsuhi had hurt Kagome and that had only been worsened by him questioning Sess's honor and pride. Sess had turned full on doggy mode and lost control in that way for the first time since the tomb. And the strike at Magatsuhi's eyes was another symbolism of his revenge for doing shit to Kags eyes and mindfucking her.
RT has always thrown these small hints in between IK drama. Which are brilliant and lovely. Even that one scene where he stands protectively inbetween Kags prostrate body on Kilala and Magatsuhi. Beautiful symbolism, really.
It was also fun to see how Kags half power was sealed by Magatsuhi and Sess's half power was returned via Bakusaiga. I felt that Sess's true acceptance of his protection to Kagome and his detachment from Tessaiga was what made him the true daiyokai and surpass his father. Since somehow Tessaiga has always been linked to protecting Kagome and somehow protecting her might have also been the thing to finding Bakusaiga. The desire to protect her perhaps.
Soul mate mind link theatrics
This is something only some people realise. Sesshomaru and Kagome have been shown not once, but twice to be doing this. Once while fighting for Kohaku's life and the last shard and the other in Naraku's body. Kagome and Sesshomaru had been shown to think in absolute synchronisation. He thinks half the sentence, she completes the rest. Absolute soul mate shit.
SessKag power combo
Shown a lot of time in Inuverse. Sess attacks and Kags completes. A small thing but their timing is insane. And is defintely the best power combo, far better than an InuKag combo.
Fight in Naraku's body
This was the time when Sess finally shows what Kagome means to him. Where she stands and how much he cares for her. She is his FIRST priority. Proof? When Rin and she are in simultaneous danger, he stands there infront of Kags for God knows how long, removing those snake things like he had all the time in the world and once she is awake he is concerned about her well being.
Sess: Those wounds, are those Inuyasha's doing?
And his disappointment in Inuyasha not being able to protect Kags.
Sess: As expected of a half-demon. He lost himself in the bloodlust.
Kags obviously considered Sess to be a friend at this point. A very close friend at that. Family perhaps? Their familiarity here was not missed by anyone. Her defending Inu and then still prioritising Rin over Inu were only somethings we realised this chapter.
The most important was her belief in him.
Manga exclusive,
Kags: I believe that you would be able to do it. Do not fall into Naraku's trap and play his cards that is what he wants. Only you can do this, I know.
Wow, Kags wow...just wow... It is the best actually. She does not believe Inu in this situation but she does Sess. She believes in his protection and she knows her influence on him. This speaks volumes. This shows her unreal connection to him and how they match each other instinctively.
Sess knows her influence. This is his weakness.
The mokomoko scene was truly Sesshomaru's best confession. For him who cannot say much in words, allowed her to fly on mokomoko. Something which everyone of us know has a heavy weightage for Sesshomaru. It is his weapon, his forever companion and his support when he is injured and tired. Offering such a thing to her for whatever reason was truly his way of showing what he exactly feels for her. He cherishes her the most and I could say even more than Rin. Trusts her the most and would jump in front of danger to protect her.
Which is only seen more when he asks her to stay away from the fight because she would be a 'hinderance'. Which means he could not fight if she is in the middle. He would be vulnerable and weak. Intersting, very interesting. Another time where he stood between her and a dangerous blood beast that Inu had become.
The best part was truly him getting concerned when she fell down from the top while removing Tessaiga and then when Magatsuhi tried to possess her.
His anger was so vibrant. "Get away from her!"
What a brilliant thing to say. The possessiveness. The will to protect her. The absolute anger. Brilliant. So much was spoken in those lines.
The best ending though was the SessKag power combo of Bakusaiga and holy arrow. Best ending. Inu was not even much involved in ending Naraku. It was weird how the titular character failed in finishing the main villain with his meido. Shows a lot what SessKag meant to RT.
Big brother
Yes, the iconic scene where fans of all ships shout out that SK is not a romantic ship.
Well over here I want to say that Kagome truly saw Sess as a big brother figure at this point. Part of it was because she still felt that she was in love with Inu and part because she was not receptive to her reactions to Sess and what he truly meant to her at this point. She feels an intimate connection to him but cannot justify the weirdness because she still feels a closeness to Inu so she thinks of him as big brother. Which was a very intimate thing for Kagome to say. She loves him like family and clearly places him higher than the rest of her friends only second to Inu. That was more of a declaring her closeness to Sess rather than a confirmation of her and Inu's relationship. Kags is not a vain character who does things coz they are convinient. She would not call a friend if they are not a friend. And certainly not a big brother if she does not feel so.
Sess actually was relieved, ecsatatic and happy when Jaken informed hin of Kags arrival as was seen in his expression. Very funny actually. Because next second he was called big brother and he was hilariously ticked off. He could not believe what he was being called. Lol that interaction though. It showed how close they ended up being. Even more close than he was to his own brother.
But he accepted the title even if with much pain in his neck and then was really offended when Jaken badmouthed Kagome.
Conclusion: No one badmouths Kagome.
Haaha....end of this long analysis. I tried to analyse it from the character's pov and found some interesting small tidbits and detail that RT had hidden in this story.
Thus I felt that SK would be a more natural ship maybe not outright. Since Sess loves her truly but does not understand the nature of the relation and Kags is still too much blinded by Inu filter a.t.m. Maybe given years when Kags will realise exactly what sort of love she feels for Inu. Which will happen because such a toxic relation like IK should not exist and then she will probably see Sess's love for her.
My Conclusion: SK is a defintive. It will happen with some time and care. When both would mature. But it will happen for sure. All the ingredients are there, the stage has been set just the players have to realise what they feel for each other.
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Only the Light Ch. 20
20/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: mid-s3 (canon-divergent) | T | 4.7k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic <3
I now present to you a chapter that is filled with more angst than Chris Carter could ever dream of, and for that, I am truly sorry.
Scully and Mulder's foray into domesticity with Emily is interrupted by the past catching up to them. Faced with despair, they cling even tighter to each other.
--------------------------------
Scully is granted maternity leave, though it’s only for two weeks, which Missy let her know is “a piss-poor bargain.” And she knows this is true, but she also has more incentive to stay at her job than ever, so she’d like not to lose it. The fact that advocating for herself and her child would mean risking her job is a mess in itself, but one lone woman can’t be expected to take down the patriarchy, and besides, she’s already tried and failed.
As for she and Mulder, they hide their flirtation in plain sight. Mulder’s perpetually present in body or spirit, but his behavior never reveals anything more than it did before. Every morning he swings by to say hi, brings Scully coffee and a bagel with full-fat cream cheese, and checks if Emily’s picked up any new words. Personally, he’s working on “alien” and if you ask him, she’ll get it soon. She knows that it refers to her UFO stuffie, so sounding out the letters can’t be far behind, much to her mother’s dismay.
On Wednesday of the first week, he shows up at 6pm with takeout carbonara from a local Italian joint. His presence makes every Scully girl happy, but it makes one in particular the happiest, and Melissa realizes that there are definitely things her sister has failed to mention. She doesn’t question it, but watches with glee as the situation unfolds.
After that first night, Mulder keeps coming back with dinner and refuses to let either sister shoulder the cost. On Friday, he stays for a movie too and gets to participate in Emily’s nightly tucking-in ritual (a tickle on the left foot, a tickle on the right foot, and a big smooch on the forehead).
Saturday afternoon, he joins them for a stroller push through the park, earning some serious side-eye from Scully when he suggests that they stop at the playground because, according to the mama bear, “Em can only take six steps at a time, Mulder.” So instead they buy hotdogs from a vendor and eat them on a bench, Emily sandwiched between her mother, her aunt, and her...Mulder. They couldn’t ask for more.
That night, Mulder hangs around after dinner because what else is he gonna do? Go home and watch old baseball games until he falls asleep? A new leaf has been offered to him, and he’s gotta turn it.
He’s baffled when, upon announcing that it’s Emily’s bathtime, Scully goes to the kitchen and switches on the sink.
Scully raises an eyebrow at him. “What, your mother never washed you in the sink when you were a baby?”
“Not that I know of...I have a hard time envisioning myself ever fitting in a sink.”
Scully scoffs. “I forget. You were a Vineyard boy.”
Before he can come up with a smart response to that (as if there actually is one), Missy pipes up. “Oh, I bet you were the kid that took baths with your mother,” she teases. “Care to confirm or deny?”
“If I did I blocked it out of memory, thank god,” he testifies.
Having spread a towel on the counter, Scully strips Emily down and perches the girl on her hip. She sticks her hand under the faucet.
“That’s not too hot, do you think?” she asks Missy, who tests it as well.
“That should be fine.”
Mulder joins in too, and immediately regrets it. He shrinks away from the water, shaking droplets all over the room. “Jesus, Scully! Are you trying to boil her?”
“Babies lose heat quickly because of their body surface to weight ratio,” she says matter-of-factly. “They’re more susceptible to the cold.”
“I think the cold will be the least of her worries,” Mulder quips.
“If you really think it’s too hot, I’ll turn it down…” There’s a concerned crease beneath her eyes, and it makes Mulder feel bad about his joking.
“No, no, you know what you’re doing,” he assures her. “You’re her mother.”
As she lowers Em into the sink, Scully’s heart twinges. Her. A mother. How many times will she have to hear this before it stops feeling like news to her?
One week and bathtime has already become routine. Missy fills a plastic cup and pours it gently over her niece, the water cascading down Em like she is nature’s own. Scully soaps her palms, then glides over her daughter’s skin with such care that its memory may blight any future affection Em is graced with. And then another waterfall, and the gentle brush of a wash cloth against eyes and nose.
Scully squeezes a penny’s worth of baby shampoo into her hand, looks to Mulder. “Come on, get in here. You’re not afraid to get your hands dirty, are you?” she says with a smirk.
He smirks back and shakes his head as she lifts his open palm and shrinks her accumulation to a dime. “Although, technically I am getting my hands cleaner…”
She boops him right on the nose with a shampooed finger. He laughs.
Missy smiles. Oh, to see destiny play out right in front of you. “Someone’s cracking dad jokes,” she points out, unable to resist. This observation is much too on-the-nose for the pair (quite literally for Mulder), who simultaneously blush but say nothing.
Mulder wipes the shampoo from his nose and plants it on Emily’s head, joining his partner in making soapy circles over the girl’s tuft of strawberry hair. Scully’s full attention is directed toward her daughter. As soon as the lather is sufficient, she dons the lifted lilt of motherhood. “Okay, time to rinse! Missy, will you do the honors?”
Missy turns the faucet, fills the cup, and lets it flow over Emily. Mulder and Scully wash their hands off in the stream.
And as Scully leans for the towel, a splash of red dirties its fresh white surface. Mulder notices it first. He points at his partner’s porcelain face. “Scully, you’re bleeding.”
Her hand shoots to her nose. Sure enough, it stains her fingers. “Shit.” She turns away, goes for a tissue. “I haven’t had nosebleeds since I was fourteen,” she tells them, as if that invalidates this one. She wipes away a glob of blood, her stomach turning. “Missy--” her voice shakes involuntarily, “--will you dry Em off?”
“Uh-huh.” She nudges Mulder. “Will you grab a new towel from the linen closet?” she whispers, not wanting to further upset her sister.
Mulder goes off without a word, and Missy squeezes out Em’s hair as best she can. “What a pretty girl!” she gushes. “All clean!”
“Yee!” Emily throws her little fists in the air, injecting joy back into the room.
“Time to put your PJs on, and get a tickle, tickle, smooch.”
Mulder scrambles back in with a new towel, skirting around Scully, who remains occupied with her own situation. He slides the soiled towel away and helps Missy swaddle Em. Mulder ruffles the little girl’s hair, and she laughs like a music box.
“Mol-dy.” She spits it out in halves, as if she’s been rehearsing.
Mulder’s eyes water with recognition. “Mulder? Mul-der? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“Moldy,” the girl declares again, certain of herself.
Missy adjusts Em on her hip, smiles at Mulder. “Looks like you’re Moldy now.”
Mulder bites his lip to hide his overwhelming delight. “Yeah, I...I never thought I'd be so happy to be called moldy.”
Next thing he knows, Scully is at his shoulder with a tissue stuffed up her nostrils. “Wait, what’s going on?”
“Em called me Moldy,” he tells her, full of satisfaction.
“Oh.” It comes out relatively unimpressed, but really, she’s just distracted. “Missy, will you get a diaper on her before there’s an accident? I would but I’m still--” She gestures to her nose.
“Yeah, yeah.” Missy smiles at the baby in her arms. “PJ time, Em!” They go off toward the bedroom, a happy pair.
As soon as Em is out of sight, Mulder spirals toward his partner, panic-stricken. The glee of moments ago has evaporated.
“Are you okay?” He touches her hair, shoulders, and the familiar small of her back, unsure of where he should land.
“I’m fine, it’s fine.” Her grip on his elbows--keeping his hands firmly placed on her waistline--suggests otherwise.
“You’ve got to see a doctor,” he pleads. “This could be...”
“This could be what, Mulder?” The steel in her blue eyes is a death grip. She’s never liked being told the obvious.
“Scully…” He sighs, rubs his neck, wills her to say what they both know. When she doesn’t, he takes his hands off her and wrings them together. “The Mufon women...they said it would happen to all of them eventually.” He’s careful not to lump Scully in with their group.
“And what do they know?” she retorts. “One of them was sick. One.”
“Okay, well, don’t you think it’s better to be safe than sorry?” he reasons. “You have Emily to look out for now.”
Scully rolls her eyes. “Don’t guilt trip me. It’s a nosebleed. Those happen all the time for completely benign reasons.”
“Yeah, but they don’t happen to you. You just said--you haven’t had one since you were fourteen.”
She clenches her jaw. He’s right, and she’s playing the fool. His position is the one she would take if this were anyone other than herself. She’s gonna have to lose this fight with as much grace as possible.
“Fine. I’ll get it checked out, but they’re gonna think I’m insane for coming in because of one nosebleed.”
“That’s a nice change of pace--you being the insane one for once.”
“Well, you’re the one who wants me to go, so you’re not out of the woods.”
“Good, I’ve finally got some company!”
Scully smiles in spite of herself. “Yes, yes you do.”
--------------------------------------
It happens very quickly, as most calamities of life can be said to. This gives it the unreal quality of a nightmare that might soon be woken up from, if there is any justice in the world.
Scully snags a doctor’s appointment for three days after the initial nosebleed. By the time she walks into the waiting room, one nosebleed has quadrupled into four, and her minor concern has snowballed into abject terror.
Margaret Scully drove into the city to watch Emily so Missy could join her sister. Scully insisted that she would go alone, but Missy wouldn’t accept this. She threatened to tell Mulder the details of the appointment if Dana didn’t let her go, and that was enough to earn her a spot in the passenger seat. Scully can’t take the thought of Mulder witnessing the worst--let alone her reaction to the worst.
And so it goes something like this: they are taken to an exam room, at which point Scully explains her situation to a nurse, including that she has recently learned she is at high risk for cancer. The nurse assures her that such a diagnosis is highly unlikely, but makes a note for the doctor. The doctor comes in with knitted eyebrows and listens to Scully describe the aftermath of her abduction experience with a heavy emphasis on the convoluted but substantial claims of the Mufon women. She asks if Scully has had any other symptoms, to which Scully replies that it’s hard to tell because she has an infant in the house and thus, a marked lack of sleep.
The doctor laughs, but it’s not a haha laugh, more of an I feel your pain. She agrees that the women’s claims are concerning, but tells her patient not to fret. They’ll take all the precautions, run any test that might assuage her worries. There’s a quip about how it’ll be on the government’s dime since it covers Scully’s insurance, and then the doctor leaves to order an MRI.
A full body MRI, which Scully has never had, and which she hoped she would never require. There’s no deeper sickness than one that cannot be pinpointed, and no greater fear than of the unknown turning into the worst case scenario.
The MRI is completed that same day. As she slides into the machine, Scully thinks of Betsy Hagopian and wonders how she’s doing. It has been many months since she stood outside an exam room and watched Betsy enter one of these. Has fate been kind to her?
For a few minutes, her world is limited to the mere inches between her face and this life-saving yet life-ruining contraption. It is noisy and sometimes bright and altogether disorientating. She is glad when it’s over.
The images return almost immediately, and maybe it would all have been okay if Scully weren’t trained in radiology herself, if she wasn’t able to recognize the glaring speck of light in her nasal cavity for what it is. But that one glance is all she needs to know that waiting by the phone isn’t an option.
“It’s a tumor, isn’t it?” she blurts as the radiologist tries to escort her and Melissa from the room. “In the nasal cavity. I have a M.D. I saw.”
“Your doctor will call with the results,” the radiologist insists, standing by the open doorway.
“No, no, you can’t do this to me,” Scully sputters. “I know what I saw, and I don’t have any time to waste.” Her eye twitches in a combination of stress and anger. “I have an infant daughter.”
The radiologist sighs, pity on top of pity. “Perhaps your doctor will talk it through with you now.”
“Yes. Please.”
And it is talked through, though there’s no need to make it complicated: nasopharyngeal carcinoma. Inoperable, and just barely in the realm of treatable. That’s the kicker, the coyote in the pasture, the cloud covering the sun. In the words of Scully’s doctor, it is auspiciously rare. And in Scully’s brain, it is the bottom she’s been expecting to drop out from under since she held her daughter in her arms.
Melissa drives home. The sisters cannot fathom how they will tell their mother. Cannot fathom ruining her blissful time with the granddaughter she’s just met. When they turn onto their street, Scully swallows hard and coughs on her own spit. “Will you do something for me?”
Missy looks over, eager to do anything she can, yet terrified by the possibility of the request.
“Will you take me to Mulder’s?” Scully mumbles. “I would just take the car but...I can’t face mom right now. I don’t want to risk it.”
Missy bites her lip. “And what am I supposed to tell mom when she asks where you are?”
“The truth,” Scully says curtly. “She doesn’t need the backstory.”
Missy drives past their building, though she’s not completely sold on her sister’s reasoning. “Don’t you think she might wonder why you aren’t coming home to your daughter?”
“I know she’ll wonder, Melissa, I know all of this,” Scully snaps because she needs to. “I don’t care.”
“Okay.” Missy’s voice is barely perceptible. I don’t care; she knows how low her sister has to be to say those words.
They complete the drive in silence, Scully biting her nails--a habit which she has never possessed, and perhaps just acquired. The car idles as Missy pulls up to the curb of Mulder’s building.
“I can pick you up when you need it,” she tells her sister as she pulls herself out of the car. “I’ll bring Em.”
“I’ll figure it out,” Scully says, closing the passenger door and edging toward the building. Missy hears a thanks float toward the car, then her sister is gone like a teenage girl embarrassed by her mother.
-------------------------------------
They sit on Mulder’s couch, muted. Words cannot fathom the injustice of this situation, nor can they suffice as empathy. Their hands are clasped together, a throughline of strength between them. This is what they need now; the most primitive language of all.
Scully’s watery eyes brush Mulder’s face. His own eyes, more pained than usual, look into hers. Without a word, she drapes an arm around her partner’s shoulders and scoots into his lap. He is surprised but not distressed. What else is left for them, now?
She is tiny, so tiny. And she is his.
Their eyes meet once again, speaking in tongues. Scully nods, and then Mulder does too. This is it. This is it.
Permission granted at last, Scully’s lips travel to her partner’s jawline. The first time her lips have touched his body, and this is where they go. She is a constant box of wonders, a fortune he can never predict. Her lips are much like he has fantasized they would be: wondrously soft and silky, stroking him like they have always meant to be there. Yet he couldn’t have imagined the urgency with which they burrow into his skin. As if she’s making a mental map of his bone structure. He never expected that she would want him this much.
His hands find her hips and grip the cotton of her shirt between his fingers. It is enough to tear her away from his flesh. Mission accomplished. His breath travels past her ear, hitting her neck. It is shallow and warm as he breathes her name. Her real name, the one her family calls her. She breathes his own back to him, like a bird responding to a mating call.
She feels his lips on her neck, wet and aching. It feels like God. This is the most blasphemous thought she has ever had. She throws her head back, exposing the whole of her skin to him. What is holiness, if not this moment?
He showers her in tattoo kisses, and she lets him, she lets him, she lets him. This is not just what she wants, but what she needs. No one will save her now, she knows this. So she has decided not to be saved.
Her shirt ripples as he clutches it. “May I?” He is breathy, awe-struck.
“Only if I can do the same.” Always about equality, his Scully is. He lifts his arms, lets her strip him first. He is fraught with the temptation to feel insecure, inadequate, but this is not about him--this is all for her. There is no time to dwell on this anyway. Scully takes in the sight, then puts her own arms up with a hint of impatience. He pulls her shirt over her head, and goosebumps adorn her as the air hits her bare stomach.
It is unimaginable, the significance of this moment. All Mulder can do is keep going, lest the emotion hit him and he find himself blubbering all over her. His hands travel her body...it is slender and white, but so solid, so strong. Cartilage forming ligaments forming joints connecting bones. And her skin, stretching over her hips and framing it all. The masterpiece that is Dana Katherine Scully.
He fears for the day she will cave in on herself. Already, one of his hands covers her whole rib cage. Right now he can cradle her body comfortably against his own, but the day will come when a single cautious touch will crush her, and his heart along with it. He wants her as she is now forever.
Seeing that he wants to pamper her, Scully lets herself be pampered. He showers the taut length of her collar bone in kisses. The vibration resonates throughout her bone structure, and already she can feel him in places she’s only fantasized about having him. He is going to heal me, she thinks. If anyone could heal her in any way, it would be him doing this.
She shows her gratitude by kneading circles into his soft tissues, so tense from all their days chasing ghosts. The sinew relaxes beneath the pads of her fingers, and she feels like she has solved the most important X-File of all.
Mulder traces his way along her spine. He has never touched her here, nor ever even fantasized about it, and there is an erotic tension--like a needle about to drop on a record--that neither one of them could have seen coming. Inevitably, his hands converge at the hooks of her bra. She arches her back in approval. He slides the hooks away from each other, and both of them feel the release. She shimmies off the garment before he can pull it out of the way. No secrets, not anymore.
Mulder didn’t expect to cry and is aware that most women wouldn’t take that as a positive sign, but seeing her, like this, knowing what they both know, tears feel like the least he could offer up. She is...beautiful is too weak a word to describe it. He needs to invent a new word to capture the essence of his emotions, the reverence with which he views her. He is not a religious man, but he will worship her until the end of time.
He has known this, intuitively, for a while, and now he’s putting it into practice. He wants to do everything he can for her, give her everything she wants. Yet he doesn’t know how to, and this scares him. She has always slipped through his fingers, always turned on a dime just when he thought he figured her out. Tonight is no exception. How was he to know that he’d be on his couch with a half-naked Scully in his lap?
He fears the tears will offend her, so he nuzzles into her heartspace, his nose pressed against the heart that is--by the grace of that God she worships--still beating. His lips meet the plush of her left breast.
Where does he go from here? The dusty routine he’s used with other women--the few who have given themselves to him or let him hand himself over--is not worthy enough for Scully. He could never touch Scully in the ways he’s touched the women before because she is not like the women before. There is no mere giving or taking here, no detached exchange of commodities or pleasure for the sake of pleasure. This is survival. They are symbiotically keeping each other alive.
A drop of water hits Scully’s skin, slides down the curvature of her breast. She shudders. A tear. That’s what it is, she realizes. Mulder is crying. It’s a baptism of unfortunate proportions.
She cups her hand against his chin, tilts it up so his bleary eyes meet hers. She rests her forehead against his. “Shh, shh, it’s okay.” She kisses each eye closed, his lids fluttering beneath her lips. “It’s okay.”
His breathing steadies. He is quite certain that it is not okay, that it never will be, but he listens to her, lets himself pretend.
Hands still on his chin, she careens their lips together. His mouth on hers; a godsend. They caress each other for a moment, then Scully opens wide, and Mulder does too. They are reflecting.
If Scully could compress herself, pushing every particle of air out of her lungs and into his, she would. As a sort of thank you, for everything. For what he has done, what is doing, what he will do...She will never have to live without him. She knows this now, and it makes this easier. But he will have to live without her, and so she must make sure he gets the memories he needs to carry on. This is how grief works, she’s acquainted with it. These moments, these feelings, these bated breaths and tender touches, will be his survival mechanism for awhile. Until the day when he can throw them off and go on without her ghost. It will happen one day, and she will be glad that he made it.
She feels him pressing against her stomach, which is certainly not where she wants him. “Fox…” Her hands hover above his belt. She unzips his fly first, her hand warm against him. He is dizzy with want as her fingers curl against his belt buckle, loosening it with confidence. In a sweeping gesture, she pushes his jeans off his hips, exposing him. The thrill she feels, seeing him big and bare in front of her, is a new kind of livelihood. She’s overcome with the desire to take him in her mouth--and that has never, never been her first instinct. She ducks down, but he stops her.
“Dana, no. You.”
She doesn’t need to hear it twice. She sucks in a breath, arches her back, and slides onto him. Slowly, gasping as they go.
“Am I hurting you?”
Scully shakes her head, lips parted. It has been nothing like this before...nothing so fulfilling. She crosses her ankles, binding them completely together at last.
Unity triumphs against the self, their union abolishing the world’s insistence on the solitude of the individual. This is what it’s about, isn’t it? Being joined, not only in spirit, but in body? Knowing that whatever horrors are to come, he will feel them as she does. Her dwindling will be his too, her losses an equally empty space within him.
She is teetering on the edge of something she can never come back from. She is not afraid.
She careens her fingernails into his back as the pressure builds. If it doesn’t come to a head, she’ll die right here, she thinks.
She barely registers the cathartic noises coming out of her, though they give Mulder great delight. He thought she would be quiet, and the fact that she’s not trying to hold anything in--after holding everything in for so goddamn long--is the most moving part of the experience.
And they want this to go on forever, but they want the release. Mulder swivels his hips into her, bringing them both closer to climax. Scully curls against him.
“I’m sorry,” she cries into his ear.
“What?” He nearly pulls out of her, fearing that she’s hurt.
“No, no--” She scrambles to stay with him. “This--” she pants “--is so good.” She lowers her lips onto his as confirmation, then speaks into his open mouth. “I’m just sorry to be the one to go.”
He frames her ribcage, thumbs arching toward her belly button. “Fuck, honey...don’t say that, don’t even think that…”
They won’t linger on the choice of pet name, the tenderness with which it settles over her, nor the absolute devastation of her words. There is simply no time.
Scully hides her face in his neck as the wave breaks over both of them. There is no world anymore, only the two of them on this couch. They have forsaken the physical realm, ascending to heaven in time with their heartbeats.
Mulder understands then what his reciprocal means when she says she needs proof to believe. Now that he’s been there and felt it, he knows that heaven exists, and holy shit, what does that mean for the life he has lived and the time he has left? What did it mean for Samantha?...What will it mean for Scully?
They collapse into each other, a melted mass of skin and bone. Two becoming one, becoming two again. Mulder strokes the back of his partner’s head, presses his lips to her temple. Her chest rises against him in jagged breaths.
“You are the only proof I’ll ever need that this life is worth it,” he murmurs. “Just you.”
Scully looks up at him, tears running down her cheeks. He kisses them away and wraps his arms around her. “I don’t know if you got the memo, but I love you, Dana Scully.”
She rests her cheek against his. “I love you too, F--Mulder.”
Mulder chuckles, his amusement shaking both of them. Scully closes her eyes and snuggles into him. He puts his hand over her heart, feels it beating steadily into his palm, and longs for it to stay like that forever.
#i have been working on that last scene since uhhh...october#i apologize for any emotional distress this and the following chapters will cause lmao#probably only two or three chapters left!!!#thank you for reading <3#only the light fic#missy and scully fic#txf#txf fic#the x-files#fox mulder#dana scully#melissa scully#mine
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
Owari no Seraph ch.99
alright yeah now that the screaming’s over with some highlights
it was bad in the sense of the entire plot since chapter 60 was bad but not considering kagami's plot choices it was GOOD actually we got some SHIT that ive been waiting for since fucking forever ago like ok i hate what happened but in a GOOD way i just know it won't actually be resolved in the way i want it too but i'm over being picky about the plot it's just about the Moments that I get out of this.
So basically we start off this chapter with some good old fashioned please someone get shinoa out of this fucking c u l t
PLEASE DON’T LISTEN TO MAHIRU OR ANY HIRAGI OR UR MOTHERFUCKING D E M O N shinoa please i love you i want shikama doji and mahiru dead<3333
I LOVE HER PLEASE
So basically what’s going on is just she basically fights shikama doji who’s like “WAIT UR THIS STRONG” and she’s like yeah lol and fucking shanks him, shi then calls out for asuramaru and shinoa hears and wants to tell the squad
SHINOA DEMON??????????
She kinda goes apeshit fighting shikama anyway it’s pretty epic i love shinoa so much
Then we go back to the squad who is with krul and guren and mahiru
Guren and Krul are like “yeah lol work with us” and everyone except Yu (who i have to call out is being really fucking stupid rn wtF this is so fucking weird idk how to feel about it and i really need it to be justified or explained or like??? just let him have thoughts bc hes not having them rn) so everyone kind of starts pointing weapons at guren and then YOICHI MY BOY MY HOME SLICE BRO SLICE DUDE !!!!!!! I see any panels of him and go apeshit but he’s basically like “hey homie you mentioned my sister once i think you should Pass Away Violently” LOOK AT HIS FUCKING DEADASS STARE
Anyone who calls him innocent at this point needs to rethink their life choices
look at the p a in in those e y e s
PLEASE MISTEW KAGAMI LET YOICHI GO APESHIT??????? PLEASE??? *presses fingers together* wamt see him covered in blood,,,
a;osewihf;oiwaehew so krul’s like “idiots wtf let’s negotiate” AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT SHE BABY<333333
and then everyone’s like “fuck you guren this is your fault” but shinoa wakes up having overtaken shi and is like “YO GUYS ACTUALLY WE MIGHT WANNA LISTEN TO GUREN HE’S THE ONLY ONE WITH A PLAN AGAINST SHI”
and he’s like “uh actually no i do suck they’re right”
(ok im still worried why he looks younger than he did in catastrophe i am not enjoying the art style change)
And he has a fucking mental breakdown which i mean we love to see it and HOLY SHIT I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS FOREVER IDK ABOUT YOU BUT CATASTROPHE???????? HE’S HELD THAT SHIT INSIDE FOR Y E A R S HE HAS NEVER ONCE SHOWN A N Y SIGNS OF NEEDING HELP OR BEING IN PAIN AND
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
yuh anyway
but what makes me so FUCKING MAD is that he says this for the first time in ever A:HWIOEHF:OISH:ESHFIOEHW:O:EWHF:OWE “BUT THAT WAS MY CHANCE TO DIE”???????? “SHINYA AND I WERE SUPPOSED TO DIE TOGETHER” ??????? “WE WERE GOING TO WIN” I MEAN WE BEEN OVER THIS IN CATASTROPHE BUT HE FUCKING SAID IT OUT LOUD GUYS
but what makes me INSANE is that MAHIRU SEES THIS AND JUST LIKE PUTS A HAND ON HIS SHOULDER AND MAKES THIS FUCKING EXPRESSION???
like
shawty bae this is u r f a u l t
I hate mahiru so much it’s unreal she’s pretending to be all empathetic and “oh that must suck for you guren” it’s fucking her fault and she doesn’t give a fucking shit i hate her
anyway uh yeah then shinoa is like “yuh uh asuramaru’s working with shi” to which everyone is like “UH” and we skip to this nice baby mika
all in all i’m in PAIN
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Potential ‘Hidden Quirk’ Idea
To begin: I am so sorry. Truly. I swore I’d be a writer of fluff, and yet here we are...again...whoops.
Anyways, let’s get on with it!
So, if there’s one thing we love about our innocent cinnamon roll of a boy, aka Izuku “Deku” Midoriya, it’s that he’s willing to go beyond (plus ultra style) in order to save the day, even going so far as to break his bones to the point of disfiguration. Adrenaline helps him fight through the pain, and even then I’ve heard a lot of people talk about his insanely high pain tolerance.
Like, ridiculously high. I mean, the Overhaul fight??? Where Izuku just destroys himself so that Eri doesn’t Rewind him out of existence? Wild. It’s like, unimaginable. Even with the decade of bullying to get used to pain, it’s almost unreal for the green bean to be able to push through so much naturally.
Which is where I say: what if it wasn’t natural?
Look, some Quirks are probably hidden ones. Ones that you can’t immediately see, ones that aren’t emitter types. Quirks that just affect the wielder, not anyone else. Like Nedzu’s High Spec, for example. But what’s another Quirk that no one would be able to see?
One that negates pain.
Now, I don’t think that Izuku would have always had this Quirk. I think it’s one that needed the right conditions to form. Like, let’s say...a really hard punch, something with an almost explosive force.
Lucky for Izuku, he has a classmate with a very painful Quirk, and a penchant for using it on those he deems weaker or lesser. Thus, when the bullying started, Izuku’s Quirk finally kicked in after one hit went too far.
The Issue: Nobody realizes that Izuku got his Quirk. Not even Izuku realizes it. Why? Well, Izuku thinks it’s just a high pain tolerance. He still feels Bakugou striking him, he just...doesn’t feel much else. He knows that he feels pressure, so he must have just gotten used to Bakugou’s hits. (And with all of the burn scars that Izuku is gaining, he wouldn’t be surprised if he’s lost some nerve endings due to the damage.)
And Izuku would definitely have burn scars in this AU (I’m not really sure if canon gives him said scars, I’ve done more reading for this fandom than watching, oops.) But no matter what happens in canon, this Izuku would have burn scars for one reason: Since Izuku doesn’t feel pain, he doesn’t cry out. Since he doesn’t cry out, Bakugou thinks his explosions aren’t strong enough to hurt...so the boy uses stronger blasts in an attempt to prove his ‘point’. (There is definitely an inferiority complex going on here, where Bakugou subconsciously worries that his Quirk is weak if ‘Quirkless Deku can stand there and take one of my hits without a single flinch’.) He pushes himself harder, lets more force into every controlled blast, etc.
So Izuku has no clue that he has a Quirk, Bakugou uses crazy amounts of explosions on the boy, neither realizing just how much damage is happening because Izuku can’t feel any pain.
Canon continues. The Sludge Villain stuff goes as usual, and All Might chooses Izuku as his successor just like always. The training montage from hell might actually be more self-destructive, not only because Izuku feels the need to catch up but also because he doesn’t feel so exhausted/sore. (Along with pain, the boy also doesn’t really feel when his muscles and body are sore, so he doesn’t realize he needs to take a breather.) But that isn’t the focus, so let’s move on!
The Entrance Exam occurs, and wow that really should have clued someone in. Because Izuku breaks his limbs for Uraraka and when he hits the ground, instead of dragging himself away he tries to stand up. He actually manages to find a 3-pointer, and breaks two more of his fingers by flicking in its direction, destroying it with a gust of air before he collapses to the ground.
But wow, everyone is just like ‘this boy is wild’ before completely forgetting about how they heard his bones crunching with every step.
Continue on.
Quirk Apprehension Test? Izuku doesn’t really get why Aizawa is complaining about how he shatters himself. Like, he doesn’t need to stop just because his arm is apparently broken. It’s fine, he can still use it. Still, he settles on breaking a single finger because he can’t risk expulsion, and he definitely doesn’t have the courage to talk back to a teacher.
Hero v. Villain Fight? Izuku doesn’t even collapse after the final blast, instead walking off without batting an eyelash. Iida ends up corralling him to Recovery Girl’s room, because first Izuku protested having to leave without getting to watch the other teams, then he got distracted by the school and nearly got lost.
USJ? Izuku goes a little more feral, fun times.
Sports Festival? Oh honey you know things are going to get wild here. Broken bones left and right, yeehaw it’s shatter city baby!
Izuku ends up with even less self-preservation with every passing problem, basically. Since the boy can’t feel pain, he assumes that any injury that he does get isn’t that bad. After all, wouldn’t he be crying and, you know, hurting if it was bad? Izuku knows what pain feels like, and this isn’t it!!
It’s only the realization that breaking bones so often could end his career early that causes Izuku to try new approaches to the whole Quirk-using situation. Even then, the boy has no sense of when to stop, and as such pushes himself to the point of passing out from either exhaustion or blood loss multiple times.
-One such time was after getting impaled. The boy didn’t realize he had a broken pole halfway through his back until Kaminari screamed and passed out from seeing Izuku bleeding, a giant rod jabbing out of him. Izuku tried to shrug it off.
Sometime around the impalation incident, people begin to notice that Izuku has a freaky high pain tolerance.
But nobody really connects the dots until Bakugou goes too far in training.
The bad news: his opponent loses a limb.
The good news: It is Shouji, and it’s one of the regrowable ones.
The bad news: the following dialogue occurs after school…
Bakugou: What the fuck? But that’s barely anything!
Aizawa: Bakugou. That explosion had enough force to sever your classmate’s hand off of his limb due to how you directed it. You should know to limit yourself by now.
Bakugou: But I was! That one is so weak that even Deku can walk away without flinching!
Aizawa: There is no way that Midoriya would be able to move on without needing medical attention after a hit that bad.
Bakugou: He has.
Aizawa: ...I beg your pardon?
Bakugou: Deku fucking has! How do you think I learned my limits, huh? Deku has taken a hit like that directly to the chest and didn’t even flinch! I know how weak I am!
Needless to say, Aizawa proceeds to lose his absolute shit. He makes Izuku stay after class the next day, and questions him about whether or not Bakugou has ever used his Quirk on him.
Izuku, a boy who is unafraid of breaking three limbs to save a girl from a giant robot, but who is terrified of teachers most of the time, cracks without too much pressure. He admits that Bakugou has used his Quirk on Izuku for years, but ‘It wasn’t bad, sensei! They were like love taps, I never even felt a thing!’
And Aizawa knows something is wrong with this, something isn’t adding up because if Shouji lost a limb to Bakugou’s hit, Izuku has to be lying...or there’s another factor in this equation.
Aizawa dismisses Izuku, and spends the night trying to figure it out.
And then he does.
The next day, he makes Bakugou and Izuku stay in the classroom during lunch. He questions them on their past. Bakugou complains about how ‘weak’ he’s always been, Izuku brushes past the concern without much thought because it never hurt, and sure there were markings but-
Aizawa: Markings?
The scars are revealed. Well, the ones on his upper body.
This is when Bakugou begins to realize that he’s fucked up.
During training, Aizawa pulls Bakugou and Izuku off to work with him separately. He
brings out machines that test how much force a blow gives off, and has Bakugou throw his ‘weak’ explosions at them.
As it turns out, Izuku should have been in crippling pain from everything Bakugou did. And then Aizawa drops the ‘I think you have a pain-related Quirk’ on Izuku, and yeah.
I didn’t really plan an end, sorry. I just think it’d be interesting, you know?
On the bright side, at least Izuku isn’t constantly in pain!!! He just got his body a whole lot more damaged than he would have, and has maybe half of the self-preservation that his canon counterpart possesses.
Finally, for an extra bit: Izuku only feels pain when Aizawa erases his Quirk. It’s not pleasant. (And, to make him even more oblivious, Izuku believes that the pain is because his Quirk is being ‘severed’ in its connection, not that this is lingering pain that comes from having bones shattered over and over without hesitation.)
#bnha au#izuku has a quirk#izuku can't feel pain#bnhaven#I went feral once more#my apologies#katsuki out here learning that his standards for strength and weakness have been skewed for a decade
256 notes
·
View notes
Text
12. Granny Out of Control a.k.a. headless chickens, Gene Simmons’ girlfriend and Rapunzel
In the previous chapters: Judy and Stone act after their embarrassing encounter in the shower as if it hadn’t even happened; they implicitly agree on not telling Mike that his one-night stand was just the consequence of Judy’s revenge-fueled rumors about Stone’s sexual preferences. Ed loses his voice so the show has to be canceled, Jeff offers to give guitar lessons to Judy instead in his spare time. Granny buys a metal magazine to learn more about Seattle-based rock bands; the picture of Pearl Jam makes her think the perfect match for Judy isn’t Jeff but Stone. Krisha picks Effie up in the city to tell her that Kelly Curtis and Susan Silver have plans with her as a photographer; she also gives her the list of codenames the band and crew members use at hotels. Effie also joins her when she feeds Stone’s unsociable cat, Red who is incompatible with all girls who try to approach him.
„I don’t know, man… Are you sure you saw them?”
“Don’t piss me off, Schmitty, of course I’m sure. I know whom and what I saw.” I mumble as I put the flashlight back between my teeth. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Not only makes he me do this stupid act, he even drives me crazy with this weak-minded questioning in the meantime. The guy obviously watches too much TV. Especially detective shows about drug cartels.
“But let’s go over it again. Maybe you were wrong or misunderstood the situation or…”
I sigh, and take the flashlight out of my mouth only to direct the blinding ray of light in his face.
“Okay, but this is the last time. And I’m only willing to tell it again because I have nothing better to do and because technically, I can’t do anything else until we finish this. Open the bag and hold it.”
“Yes sir... so you went having a shower…”
“Not that it matters if I went showering or shitting but yes, I went to the restroom.”
“And you opened the door…” he goes on with the storytelling like a small child who already knows his favorite bedtime story by heart.
“And there were they, standing at the sinks…”
“Stop. Are you sure it was them?”
“Of course I am, I could recognize Judy and Stone from miles!”
“Are you 100 % sure?”
“No, I’m only 99 % sure because there’s a very small chance that they both have doppelgangers right in this town but let’s say I’m very likely to have seen them.” I confirm while I start portioning the green leaves into the plastic bag Schmitty is holding.
“And they were…”
“…basically naked.”
“Basically?” he asks like he’d never heard the word before.
“Yes, basically.”
“How do you mean “basically”?”
“What? I’m fucking around here with sharing my weed with you and you’re already high? Unbelievable…”
“No-no-no, seriously, man, you didn’t say “naked”, you said “basically naked”. Define the difference. It’s important.” he flails fussily.
“Stop shaking the bag, it’s difficult enough to do this only with one hand. So, uh, they weren’t completely naked, they both were wearing a towel…”
“The same towel or…?”
“Hah, interesting idea, but no, they both had their own towel on. But I assume none of them was wearing any underwear…”
“That’d be normal, I mean, after showering… but that’s the weakest point in your theory, them having a shower at the same time… it sounds so unreal.”
“Yeah, I thought the same until I found the only logical reason.”
“What? That you only dreamed the whole thing? Or that it was just an intense trip due to the shrooms Mike gave you?”
“I know it sounds unbelievable but at this point, I’m pretty much convinced they did it on purpose.” I close the bag and throw it at Schmitty who hides it immediately in the inner pocket of his jacket and pats himself on the chest satisfied.
“Thanks. But I can’t follow your thinking, Scully. Why’d they secretly meet in the shower?”
“I don’t want to shock you but… I think they had sex right before. I almost entered but then I glanced them and they were almost naked, both giggling and Judy was groping Stone and… I backed out, I was so surprised, I didn’t even know what to do…”
“But they hate each other.” Schmitty protests shaking his head.
“And? Since when can’t people who hate each other have sex with each other?”
“Man, this is too much to me, Stone has Amber at home, Judy is like a nun, they can’t stand each other so obviously, they have sex??? Bullshit, that’s all I can say. I don’t know what you saw but it definitely couldn’t be a post-coital scene.”
“Look, I don’t understand the exact reasons either but…”
“I’ve always been told that as soon as we start touring, girls will try to drag me in the tour bus all the time but I imagined it somehow different…”
We both freeze at the hearing of Stone’s smug giggling and our surprise only grows when we recognize the voice that belongs to his companion.
“Sorry for ruining your wet rock star dreams but it’s impossible here to talk to someone face-to-face, even the walls have ears in this crew.”
Schmitty and I exchange a meaningful look and to his nod, I turn the flashlight on the lowest level. Walls might not have ears here but this bunk bed curtain we’re hiding behind definitely does. Even four, to be exact.
“So what’s the purpose of this conspired, hyper-secret meeting, Camden? I’m hungry so let’s get over with this as fast as possible!”
Hungry, yeah, I can imagine. So you prefer quickies, Stoney?
“I just wanted to talk about yesterday.”
Schmitty stares at me with popped eyes, even his jaws drop of shock.
“Ha. So you were thinking about it?”
“Yes but not the way you think. I’m not gonna tell you tirades about how much I regretted it or stuff because I didn’t. I only want to ask if you talked to Scully about it?”
Schmitty grabs my forearm, digging his nails into it, his other hand is shaking uncontrollably.
“No and I don’t know why I should force it, I mean it happened, it’s embarrassing enough for both of us so let’s draw a veil over it.”
“It’s embarrassing for both of us? Do you really think I give a damn about that? I mean, okay, I lost control, which doesn’t happens really often to me but who cares, I can handle the consequences. You feeling embarrassed, now that’s the last thing I care about. But have you already thought about the feelings of your friend at least for one single second?”
We both furrow our eyebrows and her words probably found their marks since Stone doesn’t answer, which makes Judy go on with the pep talk.
“Okay, neither of us is going to say a word since we both have selfish interest in keeping it in secret but if Scully shoots his mouth off and he finds out about what happened… just think into it, it’d ruin his self-esteem. I mean, it’s inevitable that it turns out later but the best strategy is discretion. Now, it’d be too fresh for him, let’s wait until he forgets about this little… intermezzo.”
Schmitty covers his still opened mouth in complete horror and even I start feeling uncomfortable now that my intuition is basically confirmed.
“So, would you finally promise to talk to Scully?”
“Dunno… I’ll consider it.”
“Jesus Christ, Gossard, would it hurt not to piss me off once in a lifetime?”
“To answer your question, yes, it would but this time it’s not about you, Miss Fussy. I was just thinking that we should let it slide since after all, it’s not as a big deal as you think.”
You fuck her and then try to ditch her? Come on Stone, I thought you were better than this.
“I mean, you make such a fuss but I don’t think Scully would let it slip, he’s probably already forgotten about the whole scene. And if I came up with it, he’d just start overthinking it; when he knows he has to shut his mouth, he becomes gossipy all the more.”
Ha, thanks Stoney but just for the record, I don’t gossip, I just process things by discussing them with other people, see also at “coping mechanisms”…
“It’s you who’s overthinking it. Just stop protesting and do what I ask you. I even use the word “please”.”
“Fuck, okay, I’ll see what I can do, just leave me finally alone with this. Can I ask you something too?”
“It depends…”
“Could we stay here for ten… fifteen minutes? You know, it’s about my reputation…”
“Fuck off, Gossard!!!”
We both exhale with a deep sigh when we hear them leaving the bus.
“Holy. Shit.”
“Holy. Fucking. Shit. Dude, you were right!”
“Of course I was right, I always am, you just never believe me.“
“But… damn… I didn’t see that coming… Gahhh.” Schmitty facepalms, rubbing his forehead worried.
“I’m surprised, though, I thought they didn’t notice me.”
“Apparently, they did. Jesus, I doubt there’s something serious between them but now that I heard it with my own ears, it all makes sense! They hook up, they are both embarrassed since they are enemies, plus the Amber-factor… and poor Jeff, he has a massive crush on Judy and she knows it, maybe she tries to have two irons in the fire… So she convinced him to keep the fling in secret not to ruin her chances at Jeff… She looks so innocent and now she turns out to be an actual snake… Do you think Karrie knows about it?” he jabbers staring desperately in front of himself.
“Whoa, stop, dude, are you insane? She’s not a bitch, they just made a mistake and she freaked out. Her worrying about Jeff sounded genuine, after all, Stone is no perspective for her, he’s got that… he’s got Amber, whatever she is for him. And I don’t think Karrie knows anything, even if she does, she’ll pretend she doesn’t.”
“But this changes everything! Jeff is our friend too and I don’t want to lie to him.”
“Trust me, he’ll never ask “And tell me Schmitty, have Judy and Stone had sex?”, so you don’t have to.”
“You’re making fun of me but you know too how dangerous information these are so you’d better have a good idea what are we going to do know.”
“I’ll tell you, Schmitty: we’re gonna act casual. Just watch me.”
***
„There’s no chance I could reach that string. Just… no. I don’t have that muscle, I’m done.” I moan as I desperately try to stretch my pinky finger to play the next chord following Jeff’s instructions.
“Hey, relax, just reach a bit further, you’ve almost got it.” he chuckles and makes an insecure move to help me out but he changes his mind in the last moment and pretends he only wanted to scratch his arm. And I pretend not to have noticed it.
“No, it’s impossible, I can’t twist my wrist that much. I don’t have freakishly long fingers like Stone, it’s enough.” I give up and put the guitar aside. We’ve been practicing for like one hour, I played him my still rudimentary sounding song idea, of course without telling him what exactly it was. He improvised a bass line to it on his acoustic bass guitar, his fingers are still running back and forth over the strings despite the fact I stopped playing. When I was a kid, Grandpa would tell me that if you cut the head of a chicken, it can still run around for a few seconds before collapsing, maybe it’s a similar phenomenon. Or maybe it’s like when a freight train hits a car and it pushes the vehicle in front of itself for miles before stopping. Headless chickens and train wrecks, why am I thinking about stuff like these while hanging out with a nice guy?
“I’m sure you can do it if you practice it. Look, my fingers aren’t long either.” he raises his palm. Is he expecting me to measure mine to his by placing them together? Could we rather just draw them around and compare the drawings like small children? Okay, he’s got strong, manly hands, that’s not bad at all. But how can he stuff those thick fingers between the strings? And those jewelries, God, they are terrible. Would he mind if I asked him to put them off?
“No, I can’t. I’m not good at these moves, I’ve already tried to play the violin, it didn’t go well. It went awful.” I protest, rather to overtalk my racing thoughts than to argue with him. I hope he’s not going to ask me about the details, I don’t feel like telling him that story at all.
“Okay, it was you who asked me for help, so…” he shrugs with a half smile, his fingers are still nerve-wrackingly torturing the instrument.
“Actually it was you who offered to help so…”
“Fair enough. I don’t want to force it so… if you want to finish all your future performances by saying “sorry, now comes the chord which is incompatible with my wrist so go the fuck home” – then okay, I don’t care.” he puts down the guitar. I try to decode the expression on his face, is he disappointed or just casual or…?
“How do you do that?” I ask quickly, I can’t bear that look.
“What?”
“This… everything…” I flail helplessly.
“I don’t know… I think I got bored with doing nothing and wanted to try something new and I realized I could do everything instead of nothing.” he leans back with a challenging smirk.
“Geez, you spend too much time with Stone.” I roll my eyes. “I mean… I played you something and you immediately knew what to do with it. Your head is full of ideas and variations, can you hear the harmonies instinctively or…?”
“I don’t know… when I hear a melody, I start hearing the other parts in my head… but sometimes I just mess around and try different things to check if they can work as a song or as an idea that I can use later. I try to keep my ears fresh, I fight against crafting only bass lines in my head, that’s why I pick up the guitar from time to time. You know, if a bass player never leaves his comfort zone, after a while, he’ll tend to operate only with the same five or five notes, it’s like a tunnel vision… or tunnel hearing…” he ends his explanation with a shrug and a lopsided smile, as far as I’ve observed, he does that pretty often.
“That’s amazing… I envy you so much. I’ve been studying and playing music for as long as I can remember but I’ve never felt that… sense of liberty? I practiced my ass off, I learned everything I could, at Juilliard, we basically dissected classical musical pieces into single notes and… I developed some weird perfectionism in the meantime, I know how good music is supposed to be composed but… I myself just can’t do it. I was so busy with studying other people’s works that I couldn’t develop the ability to create something, it’s like… my knowledge paralyzed my creativity… Or that’s just what I keep telling myself because I1m not willing to accept the fact that writing music is a gift you can’t just earn by practicing and learning…”
“Maybe you’re right.” he shrugs again and his reaction somehow hits me hard; I don’t know why, though. “I think I’ve already mentioned you that I took piano lessons but I hated it. I found literally nothing intriguing in it, it was boring, I’ve never been into Beethoven or some shit like that.”
“What?” I frown. I didn’t expect him to like the same things I do but… could he just show at least a little interest in what I like? I even talked about art and skateboarding with him. Okay, he doesn’t owe me anything, we’re not dating and all but if he ever wants something from me… okay, he probably doesn’t, it was obviously just a stupid gossip.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to trash your music, it’s just not for me, I appreciate it but I don’t like it. I’m just a Montanan jerk, did you forget?”
“You’re not a jerk, don’t say that… I’m just… nothing, forget it.”
“No, if you want to say something, don’t swallow it. Did I hurt you?”
“You didn’t… I’ve just spent my entire life playing classical music so I can’t imagine how someone is able not to like it at all.”
“Same here with sports.”
“God, I hate sports!” I exclaim and I immediately begin to laugh realizing I’m not better than him either.
“You see? But speaking of your music studies, there’s one thing I’ve always wanted to ask.”
“No.”
“No what? Am I not allowed to ask the question?”
“No is the answer to the question.”
“But I haven’t even…”
“Trust me, it’s no.”
“If you say so…”
“I’m just kidding. Most people attack me when they learn I’m a musician asking if I’d sing or play something for them, it’s so annoying, it’s like the “grunge question’ of classical musicians…”
“Okay, I get it.” he smiles. “But that’s not what I was about to ask.”
“Thank God. So, I guess you don’t want me to teach you reading sheet music either, because that’s usually the second question, which is usually asked by people with no musical hearing at all...”
“No, it’s more of a… personal one.” he hesitates squinting at me for the final permission.
“Hit me.”
“Why are you here?”
“Here? Like, here and now, with you or…?”
“No, I mean, why are you here, with the band? You graduated from one of the most prestigious music schools on Earth, you could conduct top choirs or whatever… and you’re here, loading our shitty van every single night, smelling sweat and cigarette smoke, spending days in a tour bus with beer drinking ugly dudes… Why? I guess Juilliard graduates can pick whatever job offer they want so...”
“I’m here for the money.” I answer without thinking and it immediately sounds false. Am I? Really? “I came here for the money, I don’t deny it, I had no job and however terrified I was, something told me I had to take this opportunity.”
“But… as a classical musician trained at Juilliard… why this job? I just can’t get it.”
“Well… I’ve known for a very long time that the music of baroque era is in which I’m the most interested. It’s, you know, a passion to me, it’s like punk was to you. And if you want to be really good at it, you have to go to the place where it comes from. Here in the States, you can basically hear nothing that was written before Mozart.”
“Europe?”
“Exactly. So in my senior year, I applied for a scholarship of the music academy in Leipzig.”
“And…?”
“And I won it.”
“So you studied in Europe too?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because my father died a few months before I graduated and the small firm he ran died with him… it was a very complicated period so I asked the academy if I could postpone it by one year.”
He’s chewing his lower lip and speaks up only after digesting for a few seconds what he’s just heard.
“And they refused your application?”
“No, they sent me a kind acceptation letter in which they cited their scholarship regulation that said postponement is allowed once. So I moved back to Seattle and started teaching.”
“Oh. I guess something came up one year later too.”
“Well yeah, my sister’s almost dying, that came up.”
He exhales with a deep sigh, I have the feeling he already knew all the details, he just couldn’t do the math. Maybe Karrie told him our family saga. I don’t mind, though, I don’t feel like telling him those stories either…
“Well, that’s a lot… but it also sounds like… you gave up your dreams.”
Now it’s me who can’t do anything else but shrug.
“Maybe… or maybe, it was just a warning from the universe. I’m not religious but I do believe that everything happens with a reason, maybe you can’t find it out ever because it’s something bigger than you or your shitty little life. My family needed me and they still do, or at least they need my two hands I can make money with so… plus, I’ve always been terrified of performing. I have worst stage fright, I doubt I would be able to conduct in the spotlight of the world’s biggest concert halls… anyways… have you ever heard about famous, female conductors?”
“Normally, I’d say you’re a coward and you should follow your dreams but I understand the family factor, of course. And I don’t want to act like a hypocrite either, I could have looked for another graphic design program too when mine was canceled in Missula.”
“But changed your dream instead.”
“Exactly. And maybe that’s what you should do too if universe or God or Buddha or the spirit of Johann Sebastian Bach is trying to message you that you picked the wrong dream.”
“Are you trying to say I should switch my brain to believe loading shitty vans and smelling Scully’s and Schmitty’s stinky feet is my real dream?” I giggle.
“If that’s your way, than go for it, girl!” he plays the overly enthusiastic motivational trainer. We crack up but none of us is laughing heartfelt. His face finds finally rest in a genuine, encouraging smile. “Let’s raise our glasses to the new dreams!”
We both reach our hands to clink our imaginary glasses.
“To the new dreams!”
***
I’ve been on the road with them for days and nothing. Not a single move or a sound that’d confirm we’re following the right traces. And I’m thirsty. So thirsty. But they are so envious, I know they are hiding spare water in their stupid spacesuits or what but they claim they have nothing to share. Sure. I would never drink recycled pee, anyway. But those two moons look pretty cool, the night sky compensates me for every inconvenience I’ve experienced since we started chasing that gross sandworm… everything for the melange…
However important my mission is, it gets interrupted by three quick, impatient knocks on the door.
“You’ve been shitting in there for forty-two minutes! I know you’ve finished and you’re just reading! I have to pee! Get the fuck out of there! Why do you have to do this all the time?”
Maybe because this is the only place where I can have some progress with my current reading undisturbed? I reluctantly close the hardcover volume of Frank Herbert’s Dune and glance lazily at my wristwatch.
“First of all, it’s been only forty minutes. Second, it’s shorter than a blink of an eye, if you measure it in cosmic time. Not even applicable.”
“Okay, I can use astronomical metaphors too. My bladder is a red giant that is about to explode so…”
“I’m coming, I’m coming, geez, urinary incontinence? You should see a urologist.” I remark opening the door. He basically tosses me out of is his way and almost slams it on my nose.
“It’s rather you who should see a doctor, fuck, Stone, what did you eat? Uuugh, I’m dying.” I hear his muffled indignation.
I lie down on my bed and stuff the pillow under my nape. I turn the pages back and forth for a few times until find the place where I was before Mike kicked me out. So, back to those goddamn pervert Fremen fuckers…
I barely manage to read a few lines, when Mike comes back and throws himself on his bed, unmuting the TV that is showing underdressed ladies caressing their own body and telling their erotic fantasies in seductive voice. I clear my throat. No reaction. I do it again, this time longer and louder. Nothing.
“Sorry, am I bothering?” I ask sharply but our guitarist seems to be completely immersed in the curves. “Okay, busted. I know you only went to the toilet to jerk off. You only watch Playboy TV and noname porn channels, you really need to get laid.”
“Done, last night. Remember?” he answers slowly and mindlessly, his eyes are still glued to the screen.
“No, because I wasn’t there, thank God.”
“You’re just envious because you have to practice celibacy, otherwise Amber would cut your balls off.”
I squint at the girls over my book.
“Not that I feel tempted. Jesus, I’m sick of these… udders…”
“Hey, watch your mouth! Those ladies deserve more respect! Especially her!” he points at the blonde, blue-eyed, busty woman on the screen who is dropping her lingerie standing at a bath tub.
“Why, who is she?” I look back at the text in front of me, not that I understand a word of it. Since I receive no answer I turn my head towards Mike only to see he sat up in the meantime and stares at me offended. “What? I have no idea.”
“That’s Shannon Tweed!!!” he flails outraged.
“… who is…?”
“Who is a goddess, Playmate of the Year in 1982 and last but not least, the girlfriend of Gene Simmons!”
“Oh. So she’s old as dirt.” I summarize laconically.
“Stone, what’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with her? What’s wrong with big boobs? I thought you liked them… I mean, you are the guy who’s entitled to do anything with Seattle’s most spectacular pair of bosoms so…”
“Hey, you’re talking about my girlfriend!” I grunt.
“I’m talking about your girlfriend’s tits!”
“Exactly, that’s it! Don’t talk about my girlfriend’s tits! Anyway, how do you know what they look like?”
“Hey, first, I’m only talking about them. It’s called freedom of speech, First Amendment…”
“What the fuck, parts of the Constitution are printed now on beer tags or did I miss something?”
“…second, it is very difficult not to know what they look like, they basically poke your eyes out!”
“Only talking, ‘course.”
“Certain female anatomical features attract men’s eyes, it’s in our genetic code. Don’t even try to make me believe those features had nothing to do with you ending up with her. Wait!” he exclaims with a finger snapping. “Oh, I get it already. You miss her! That’s why you can’t stand the playmates on TV! But you could have said, it’s not a shame…”
“Dr. ‘Cready, expert of constitutional law and anatomy, psychotherapist. I’ve just said I don’t feel tempted…”
“Because those boobs” he points at the screen “are forbidden fruit and remind you of those boobs in Seattle.”
“You’re pointing in the wrong direction, Michael. You’re pointing at boobs in Indiana.”
“Whatever. You miss her, admit it. My boobies are over the ocean, my boobies are over the sea…”
“Stop!”
“My boobies are over the ocean so bring back my boobies to me…”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“BRING BAAACK, BRING BAAACK, BRING BACK MY BOOBIES TO ME, TO MEEEE!”
“I’m only saying that even huge breasts can be boring after a while.” I overshout his off-key singing.
Mike suddenly stops singing and just blinks at me completely frozen.
“You mean… you want to leave Amber?”
“Jesus, what did I do to deserve this?” I bury my face in my hands. “I mean… imagine your favorite food!”
“But that’s… risotto…?”
“Perfect!”
“But risotto doesn’t look like boobs!”
“Jesus, of course not, just imagine it!”
“Okay. Mmmh, it looks delicious. I can even feel its smell.” he moans with closed eyes.
“So you want to eat risotto now, right?”
“Oh yeah, I want it more than anything.”
“And if you could… or had to eat risotto every single day, would you feel the same?”
“Uhm, probably… not.” he opens his eyes.
“And here we are. If you’re in the position where you can play with huge breasts every day, it’s not such a big deal anymore.”
“Hm, makes sense…” he lies back. “But wait!” he sits up quickly again.
“What?”
“In that case, risotto wouldn’t be my favorite food anymore.”
“Yeah, probably…”
Congrats Sherlock. I drop my book on the nightstand, by now, I basically gave up all hope for finishing the chapter I was reading.
“But that means that you prefer small boobs now!”
“I didn’t say that but obviously, smaller tits have their appeal too. And there are girls who would look ridiculous with big breasts.”
My mind begins to wander involuntarily… Yeah, Amber is a bombshell and she drives me crazy whenever she’s around but I’ve always had a thing for more fragile looking girls…
“Who are you thinking about?” Mike asks greedily like a curious puppy.
“Jesus, no one.” I scoff frowning. “I mean, very slim girls look better with… proportionate breasts, you know, like small apples…”
I catch myself cupping my hands, what the hell, am I honking imaginable tits in the air? Okay, I have to talk to Eric to fly Amber here, I’m going to put an end to this, I’m pathetic.
“Say an example!”
What? I don’t know whom I was thinking about, I don’t even know if I was thinking about an existing person, maybe I was just fantasizing about freaky phantom breasts, I couldn’t even see them, it was just a desirable cleavage… and round hips… and shapely thighs…
“I can’t!”
“Just say an example, I don’t know, someone famous who looks like that, or someone who we both know…”
“Kylie Minogue?” I groan in agony. Hopefully I satisfied Mike’s need for a new protagonist for his erotic dreams because he only nods with an appreciative pout.
The ringing of the phone on the bedside between us interrupts our intellectual conversation and we both stare at the device surprised and confused for a few seconds, it’s usually us who call family members and friends, not the other way around. Finally, I decide to pick up.
“It’s Stone.”
“…” No one answers but I can hear some indistinct noises coming from the other end of the line.
“Hello… who’s that? Wo am I talking to?” I ask, and Mike pulls closer to the speaker of the receiver too.
“Ah… excuse me… I must have dialed the wrong number… you’re obviously not the Notre Dame Hunchbach…” an old female voice answers.
What the hell? Is this a prank call? Old people make phone pranks too?
“Who?” I mouth to Mike who mouths “Judy” as a response. Ah, yes. She also chose a codename, not that anyone is interested in her. “You’re talking to Dr. Hugh Jeego, but who am I talking to?”
“Ah, you must be Mr. Gossard. I’m Mrs. Albertson, Judy’s grandma.”
I almost drop the receiver.
“Ugh… uhm… hi, Mrs. Albertson, it’s nice to meet you… I mean, even if not in person but… I guess you wanted to call Judy so…” I make an attempt to finish this awkward intermezzo but she cuts me off.
“Actually, I am glad that I can talk with my Judy’s new colleague, this job is so different in comparison to what she worked earlier, you know, she taught in a school…”
“Yeah, I know…”
“…and now she’s with a rock band, and there are so many rumors about musicians, they drink and do drugs and…”
“We… we don’t drink… that much… not before shows…” I answer and Mike nods approvingly opening a beer can with a loud fizz. “… and we prefer herbs…”
“And mushrooms…” Mike adds.
“Shut up, you ruin everything!” I hiss between my teeth while I cover the microphone with my palm.
“Who was that?”
“It was… it was Mike, our lead guitarist.”
“Ah, Mr. McCready!”
Mike pats his chest proudly.
“Exactly, Mr. McCready…” I flip him the bird.
“I hope my Judy takes care of herself, she tends to become obsessed with work, she even forgets to eat… does she eat properly?”
“I’ve… I’ve seen her eating… so I guess she does…” I try to reassure her but I’m afraid I don’t sound very convincing; after all, the eating habits of Miss Smarty Pants don’t belong to my main interests.
“I wish she ate more, she’s so skinny, isn’t she?”
“She is… I mean, she’s slim. But like… not too slim. Her body is proportionate… I mean, physically, anatomically… her shape is feminine… and when I say “feminine” I mean she’s not malnourished…” I babble and the small apple tits appear in front of my eyes again, Jesus, I’ve started losing my sanity… For some reason, Mike feels necessary to grab the receiver and yell a gratuitous, cheesy tirade into it.
“My learned colleague is trying to say that she’s a very pretty young lady, with all the respect, of course. She’s the most virtuous girl I know, she behaves well, you can be proud of her, Mrs. Albertson.”
Yes, Mrs. Albertson, exactly, your grandchild behaves well, she brought condoms only enough for a whole fuckin’ football team, safety first… I snatch the receiver out of Mike’s hand and lift it back to my ear but before I could finally get rid of the old lady, the TV catches my attention. While we were listening to the phone call, the harmless playmate fantasies ended and the channel started airing hardcore porn. And either was the petting part very short or it didn’t even exist since the “characters” are pretty much in the middle of things and before we could react anything to avoid the disaster, the actress starts screaming rhythmically.
“What was that noise? Are women with you too?” the old woman inquires suspiciously.
“Turn down the volume, for fuck’s sake!!!” I scream-whisper to Mike.
“No, we’re alone, Mrs. Albertson… we’re just watching TV… Murder She Wrote, someone is being killed!” Mike improvises aggressively poking the remote. “It’s not working…” he groans with a miserable expression.
“Oh, I like that show… which episode? Maybe I turn on the TV to watch it too...”
If you knew… In the meantime the man starts moaning too so the obvious noises grow even louder.
“Oh, the murderer is being killed too!” I try to win some time for Mike, I admit, it wasn’t the most creative lie I’ve ever said…
“I’m saying it’s not working, it must be contact failure or low battery…” he explains beating the remote against his palm at full strength, creating a counterpart to the sound of the bodies snapping against each other on the screen.
“It’s the episode about the slasher.” I maintain the conversation and then address Mike again. “Then use the power button on the TV device or throw it the fuck out of the window, I don’t care, just do something!!!”
“Ah, great idea!” his face lights up and finally, he walks to the TV and turns it off. I swear, I thought for a second he was going to choose the window version, like Keith Moon. I’m sure he was considering it but found the box too heavy.
“It’s over…“ I transmit to Mrs. Albertson.
“It ended with a cliffhanger, what a shame…” Mike remarks and I can barely suppress my snorts.
“I hope for a happy ending…” I grin, Mike presses his pillow against his face, while the poor lady obviously doesn’t even know what to say. After a few seconds of silent, body-shaking laughter, he rearranges his face muscles and takes the receiver away from me.
“It was a pleasure to meet to you, Mrs. Albertson. Judy is a great girl and as far as we know, Effie too, please, hug her for us. I hope we can meet you in person too, when we get back.”
“I admit, I’m relieved, I want you to know I think you are just darling guys. And now, I call the Notre Dame Hunchbach, as I intended to. Goodnight, Mr. Gossard, Mr. McCready.”
“Goodnight, Mrs. Albertson.” we sing in unison.
After I hang up the phone, we stare at each other silently for long moments, before we burst out laughing hysterically.
***
Great. She’s late. She promised she’d be waiting for me at the bar counter at 9 p.m. I’m doing the third circle in this goddamn place and she’s nowhere to be found. Okay, RCKNDY is actually my favorite place and I was happy when Krisha offered to meet me here to unveil Kelly’s and Susan’s “great idea” about which I only know at this moment that it concerns my photos. The cigarette smoke irritates my throat and some unknown band is in the middle of sound check on the stage, the indistinct guitar noises and the female lead singer’s instructions blast at random moments from the speakers causing me mild heart attack every single time and making the crowd members overyell them. Despite the early hour, the place is packed; I can barely struggle through the mass of flannel-wearing guys and girls. Early hour… what am I talking… now that my lifestyle converges on clinical death, both metaphorically and literally, I usually spend my evenings in front of the TV wearing my pajamas. It’s good Krisha picked this day, Mom is working at that new side job again so I didn’t have to make anything up to prevent her from asking suspicious questions.
I visited the restroom to kill some time but it just made me frustrated all the more since I involuntarily became the audience of a bunch of girls, one of them was gushing about the kissing skills of her current crush… gah, I can’t believe I turned into this sour bitch, just because I’ll end up as a spinster, she’s entitled to have some fun…
Almost fifteen minutes have passed by and she still hasn’t shown up yet. I can’t hang out with Victor either, he’s helping with putting the finishing touches at the sound check. I guess I have to wait then. I pick a bar stool and try to decipher the list of beverages on the wall.
“What can I get for you?” a red-haired bartender girl asks. Her question catches me off-guard, since my good old answer “beer” hasn’t been an option for a while and I didn’t have enough time to consider the alternatives. She’s chewing gum with a bored face, reminding me of a ruminant… a hot ruminant.
“Uhm… I… ugh, I haven’t…” I jabber and she reacts with an impatient eyeroll, the countless bracelets are clinking around her wrist as she runs her fingers through her red mane.
“I’d like to have a virgin mojito.” I utter the first thing that comes to mind. She acknowledges my choice with a scornful scoff… Yeah, in case I haven’t felt embarrassed enough yet, she makes obvious that she’s the sexy and cool femme fatale and I’m a straight-edge cripple in a boring, worn, brown jacket.
“Hey, here you are!” someone grabs my shoulders.
“Me? I’ve been waiting for you for like… hours?” I frown while Krisha settles down on the bar stool next to me and places her beer on the counter.
“Gosh, sorry!” her eyes pop as she checks her wristwatch. “I arrived too early and went to the executive office to meet a few friends.” she points at some people talking in front of a door that probably belongs to the office rooms. “That’s Alex, he runs this place, he’s a good friend of Stone, by the way. And that girl next to him works here too, she’s the girlfriend of Regan.”
I observe the girl she’s talking about, she has a nice, bright smile. Fantastic. Krisha knows everyone here… and I have no idea who these people are, and by the way, I’m nobody.
“Regan?” I furrow my eyebrows. “It’s a unique name, I swear I’ve heard it but I can’t place it…”
“He’s also an old friend of mine. And of Stone of course. You might know his name because he played in Malfunkshun with Andy. I mean Andy Wood.”
“Wood.” we say the name at once. “Of course I know his name, I didn’t grow up in a cave…” I explain, maybe in a sharper tone than intended.
“Oookay… “ she raises both hands defensively. “Actually, Regan almost became the drummer of Mother Love Bone, until they replaced him with Greg Gilmore. They made Stone fire him, I was thinking “okay, that’s it, he’s gonna hate us forever” but somehow, he managed to convince him by using logical reasons. If you ever want to fire a drummer, just call him because he’s your guy.” she nods meaningfully and takes a sip of her beer.
“Based on my sister’s opinion, drummers probably leave the band willingly, after having spent some time with him.” I remark dryly. “Thank you.” I reach for my drink and slide the money towards the phlegmatic redhead. I suppress a smile when I see her realizing with disappointed face that I spared the tip. What was she thinking, seriously?
“Oh yes, I forgot your sister and you sew Stone-shaped voodoo dolls in your spare time. By the way, Regan has played with a guy called Shawn for a few years, he’s a huge talent. The dude is a Prince-freak, which is somehow odd in a city where you can’t make a single step without stomping on a distortion pedal but he’s an awesome singer. AND they are planning to jam with Stone as soon as he gets back. I can give you the address of their rehearsal room in case you want to assassinate him…”
“No, thanks, I already know where he lives so…”
“Right!” she slaps herself in the forehead.
“Anyway, can I finally learn why we’re here?”
“Soon. We’re waiting for someone… I’m going to introduce you to someone… who has a job offer for you!”
“Wow… let me guess… healthcare branch has discovered me and they want me to be the face of some firm’s dialyzer portfolio?” I squint at her as I loudly slurp my cocktail.
“Damn, you nailed it!” she bangs her fist against the counter. “Anyway, I’m not going to tell you anything until she arrives, you need to be punished for the self-deprecating joke.”
“Spank me…” I mumble but my retort stays unnoticed since Krisha stares in an indefinite direction next to me sending an enthusiastic wave towards someone.
“Look, Jer is here too.” she points at the target of her smile and I follow her gaze only to recognize Jerry Cantrell… he’s wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket with a white tee.
“Wait… didn’t… didn’t you mention… I mean, you dated, didn’t you?” I ask confused, trying to form coherent sentences. It’s not going well.
“Yeah, we did.” she wiggles her eyebrows.
“But exes are supposed to hate each other…” I try not to turn around too obviously, so I remove a non-existing hair from the shoulder part of my jacket. While he’s slowly walking through the crowd, I notice he’s holding hands with a long, brown-haired girl. She has a perfect body and she’s probably completely aware of it since the tight leather pants highlight every curves of her. Sure, a 10/10 chick for a 10/10 guy, that’s how world has always worked… His hair is let down… I catch myself smiling, Dad insisted on calling him Rapunzel…
“It was just a summer fling and we realized after a few dates that we weren’t made for each other. So no one got hurt.” she shrugs. “Anyway, we share the building with the management of Alice in Chains so we knew we would run into each other all the time. The music scene of this city it’s like a big, incestuous family so…”
We both crack up.
“Oh no…” she sighs annoyed, staring over me again. I don’t know what’s going on in her head but it must have to do something with another twenty-eight people I’ve never met. “DON’T TURN AROUND!” she yells at me when I try to check the cause of her reaction.
“Why, what’s…?”
“It’s too late, I guess she’s already noticed us… or hasn’t she? Bow your head…” she leans on the counter, letting her hair cover her face.
“What the fuck?”
“I said bow your head… avoid eye contact… shit, I don’t have the nerves for this right now…”
“Krisha? Oh my god, it’s you, I haven’t seen you for ages!” I hear a powerful female voice from behind my back.
“Oh, hi Amber, it’s nice to see you!” Krisha groans with a painful smile, lifting her head and letting herself be pulled in a half-embrace resigned. I have to bite my lips to prevent myself from giggling since she sends a cross-eyed grimace to me over the girl’s shoulder. So she must be Stone’s Amber.
“Hey, are you here with your little friend?”
And that must be me. I involuntarily straighten up as much as I can but despite the high bar stool, I’m still shorter than her in her heels. I wonder if Red peed into these ones too… Now that I’m checking her out properly, I realize somehow she doesn’t belong here. Mini dress, heels, perfect makeup… That’d be Stone’s type?
“Uhm, this is Effie, she’s the sister of the band’s new monitor engineer…”
“Ah, Julie, you see, I know everything…” she knocks on his temple with her index finger a few times. “I’m Stoney’s girlfriend.” she grabs my hand and shakes it aggressively. I don’t correct her, I just exchange a quick look with Krisha, her eyes confirm that it wouldn’t make sense anyway.
“And… are you going to stay for the gig too?” Krisha nods towards the stage after a few moments of awkward silence.
“Oh, no, I’m going partying with my girls, I just checked in, I wanted to say hi to Alex and ask him for a favor. We’re organizing a grunge-themed fashion show and this place would be a perfect place for it.”
“A what?”
Krisha’s face radiates shock and disgust at the same time.
“You know, this grunge thing is blowing up, the firm is about to launch a collection, you know, flannel shirts, jackets, shorts with leggings, so we’re looking for a grungy place to present it…” she explains with huge hand moves. As she begins to explain the details of her brilliant idea, I get immediately distracted. Not only because my mind is desperately trying to ignore this nonsense but because I spot Leather Pants Chick at the same sport were Alex and his colleague were standing a few minutes ago. Only a few seconds pass by until her partner arrives too, he immediately pulls her closer by her hips as he leans against the wall… they engage into a make-out session without hesitation. Jerry digs his fingers into her hair and as things are getting more intense, his hands slowly wander along her back until they reach and firmly grab their destination…
I swear it wasn’t so hot in here when I arrived, I can feel my face is burning, I’m sweating like I was in hell… Yeah, being forced to watch a hot guy smooching with a girl who isn’t you but in exchange, is much prettier than you, that’s how I imagine the first circle of hell. I can barely peel myself out of my jacket, my elbow gets stuck when Amber grabs its sleeve. I’m still a little dazed-off and stare at her expressionlessly while I’m trying to pick up the threads of conversation.
“...exactly like this one, thrift clothes are so trendy now, where did you get this one?”
She shakes the sleeve of my jacket impatiently, making me realize that’s what she’s talking about. Should I tell her the truth? That it’s not from a thrift shop, that it’s original, that Judy and I pooled the money we earned at our summer jobs together and made an agreement about taking turns on wearing it six years ago?
“I can’t… can’t remember…” I manage an effortless answer.
“You have a great taste, we three should do a thrift store tour together.” she rants on.
“Totally.” Krisha tries to seem enthusiastic but she rather reminds me of a snarling serial killer.
“Okay, I have to go, oh my god, I’m late and I haven’t even talked to Alex. We could hang out in the city next week, call me, Krish! And bring your new friend too!” she winks at me. “See you, later girls!” she finally leaves us alone, the quick tapping of heels echoes in my head even after she has disappeared behind the office door. Krisha grabs her glass and drinks its content for one sip.
“Ah, I feel much better now.” she sighs. “I’m afraid my phone is about to die. I may not be able to make phone calls for a while.”
I snort into my drink.
“I must say, she’s not the girl I’d imagine as Stone’s girlfriend.”
“Trust me, she’s not the girl whom anyone would imagine as his girlfriend. But seeing them together is always like a free circus ticket, it’s pretty funny, especially when you have coke and popcorn too.”
“Sooo… where’s the mysterious person who we’re waiting for?” I look around, although I have no clue what physical characteristics I should look for, I don’t even know if we’re talking about a man or a woman. As my gaze slowly wanders around the room, I admit to myself unwillingly, that I exactly know what I’m looking for. Long, blonde hair, black leather jacket and a white shirt. The realization makes me blush, I feel like in those good old high school days, trying to casually encounter my current crush who doesn’t even know I exist. Why am I like this all the time? Why? I’m such an idiot…
“Okay, I check Alex’s office, maybe we misunderstood each other and she went in without me noticing her. And I’m sure Alex needs some spiritual support too, the recovery will be tough for him. Do you wanna come?”
“No, I… I’d rather wait here.” I answer quickly, flushing, I’m stupid, stupid, stupid… “So it’s a she?” I shout after Krisha but she just waves me off laughing.
So… what was I thinking? I could have join her and meet her cool friends but I chose to drink here alone, not that I don’t feel lonely enough. And I ran out of drink in the meantime too… I want to procrastinate the next round until the other, friendlier bartender shows up again but unfortunately, the red-haired demon spots my empty glass and elbows on the counter opposite me with a challenging, patronizing smile.
“May I bring you a next lemonade?”
I’m about to snap back but a pleasant male voice over my head makes me change my mind.
“One more of this, whatever it is. And the lady is my guest.”
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
ok time to break my silence caused by the fact that i spent all day making this lol too many feels
so.. palm springs thoughts !! and there are manyyyy so buckle up and feeel free to hit me up with either matching or contradicting thoughts or whateveer!! i would LOVE to nerd out about this movie with someone:’)
here comes thoughts and pictures!!
we basically start off with a mr. samberg sex-scene okAYYYYY the mood is set. we love the view
nyles aka. mr. samberg is the most gorgeous man alive and it was a true pleasure to admire him for 90 minutes straight
CURLS!!????! THEY ARE UNREAL. i shall dedicate an entire post to them
Cristin Milioti is perfect for her role. her acting? *chef’s kiss* I love that she’s not the stereotypical female rom-com lead.
Her chemistry with Andy? Gosh.. Can’t believe Nyles x Sarah is my new main movie-ship!! They play off of each other SO. WELL. Their characters are equally stone cold and bitter, but then again not really, and they both portray it so well!!
“You don’t ned a leg up.” *moans* “Hold my leg up!” i SCREAMED
“Don’t you kiss me.” “Don’t you tell me what to do.” hoW DARE THEY!
Ok ur basically on love already stop it
The fact that they were just gonna fuck on a blanket on top OF ROCKS?!
but then again in this movie’s already insane universe it’s prob pretty normal:)
The overall dark, existential humor?? This is what I live and breathe for on a daily basis. Basiaclly both main characters are a BIG MOOD
Nyles not giving a shit vs. Sarah severely freaking out in the beginning is an iconic dynamic
“I am the antichrist” and then the rock falling? For a hot sec I literally thought the movie was gonna take a turn with Nyles being some magical/scientific creature that’d created the timeloop or something idkkk ahhha
Nyles in the suit... ridiculous(ly hot)
The torture methods Roy uses on Nyles and the fact that he’s not mentally scarred?? How??
On that note I love that Nyles and Sarah keep their memories even if the day starts over. Would’ve been a completely different concept if they had to “meet each other for the first time” every day and it wouldn’t’ve allowed their relationship arc to evolve as it did
Darla is the fucking shit
Nyles in the baseball cap, amirite?
THE BARTENDER TALKING ABOUT HITTING A GUY WITH THE CAR SHE’S CURRENTLY GIVING NYLES A HANDJOB IN IS COMEDIC GOLD
“You fucked Jerry Schlieffen?” “Well he fucked me.” Yes SIR. Andy Samberg’s characters are all bottoms and we’re here for it
Sarah’s tongue click and “nice try” when Nyles asks her about her sex life??
IDK WHY BUT SO GOD
Randy is hella annoying. That’s it. That’s the tweet.
THIS ENTIRE SCENE:
the fact that they both start waking up smiling because now at least they have each other 🥺😭🤯
uhm i love a good ship that’s like... best friends to lovers and the montage of them basically becoming besties killed me
this outfit Y E S:
sarah falling off the car and nyles laughing it off is relationship goals
the crashing plane I LOL’ED
okay so... big moment... the DANCING AND MATCHING OUTFITS? THEY ARE MY DREAM TEAM. Also how excited they are running away from the bar 🥺
IM POSITIVE THIS IS THE MOMENT NYLES KNOWS! LIKE HE DOESN’T ADMIT IT TO HIMSELF COMPLETELY BUT HE KNOWS
the bomb in the cake and french pirate-skit? so fucking random but i lovee it because it’s so them
*DRUM ROLL* PERHAPS MY FAVORITE MOMENT IN THE ENTIRE MOVIE:
STORYLINE WISE AND VISUALLY A++++
the deep talks by the fire were SO well written. they were actually deep and genuine, allowing the characters to grow and opening up to us as viewers but also remained fun and witty
sarah trying to get nyles to admit he cares for her and him joking it off??? the flirtinggg
really wish we’d gotten to know more about what nyles meant with “it drifts away: just like they all do.” because it really seemed to trigger something within him. Like WHO “They”???
the dinosaurs lmao no comment but at least they got a cute cuddly moment
from the very first millisecond inside the tent you can CLEARLY tell Sarah is just dying to do something about them!!!
the disbelief on nyles’ face when sarah says “lets just get it over with” because she’d clearly stated he didn’t want to and even though he obviously did he’s respected it and not done anything further about it oh babey
we love some good making out:’)))
NYLES HALTING TO TAKE IN THE MOMENT EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO SCREAM INTO THE VOID
i will die for a post-sexy timez cuddle and how sarah is trying to staying awake to be besides him is just *explosion*
this has to be *the moment* she realises
and they’re both sooooo fucking happy when they wake up after damn love me like that pls
THE GROOM BOOO FUCK OFF CAN’T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO REMEMBER HIS NAME CHEATING SCUM
THIS FACE:
Baby is trying so hard and is so cute and nervous about it. SARAH LISTEN TO HIM HE LOVES YOU.
HE FELT GOOD WAKING UP BECAUSE OF YOUUUU, GIRL. DO NOT CALL IT “FUN”, SARAH
“Going to bed maybe just got a little better” 😭😭😭😭
The entire cop scene is just pure insanity, very Lonely Island and I’m here for it even though I just want Sarah to rEALLY LISTEN TO WHAT NYLES IS TRYING TO SAY
“Pain is real” oh babey that means SO MANY THINGS 🥺💔
“I followed you into that cave because I liked you!” like jake would say: don’t love how we got here but we’re going where i want
“pretentious sad boy” me
not shocked that they’ve hooked up before because c h e m i s t r y but don’t like how it got out :)))
why is nyles’ one sleeve shirt rolled up? im triggered
drinking pure vodka? oh babey its gonna be okay
WE LOVE A SMART BOI WHO RECOGNIZES HIS GIRL’S PERFUME
Sarah’s parents singing:)) i would cry too, nyles
"I love her.” “I see... That’s interesting” lmao savage
I actually really love Roy’s character. It turns out to be very humble actually and he has some insightful and lowkey poetic that lines i love. Besides that he’s hilarious.
SO the whole time i was wondering how they’d get out of the whole “same day forever”-thing, if they were to. and I LOVE LOVE LOVE that they had such a logical way out of it: science. Not anything cheesy like “a true love’s kiss” or “you learned your lesson”. Pure logic and Sarah’s hard work to get there. Huge fan of this.
I will never get over how good Nyles looks waking up and Sarah is xtra pretty in that scene:’)
Nyles just wants to stay in a loop forever because it means for sure that he gets to stay with Sarah forever and I’m lowkey into it but also like lowkey LISTEN TO HER AND GO WITH HER PLAN, NYLES
“I wanna stay with you” *sniffles*
“I love you. How about that?” PRETTY FUCKING GOOD
I love Nyles’ character development. He started off so nonchalant and cold, closed off and by this point he’s the softest, smiliest in love fool I’ve ever seen and Andy does it so good. SAMBERG HEART EYES!!
“Nothing is real in here” YES SARAH UR LOVE IS
I’m taking Sarah’s asking Nyles to believe in her and leave with her as her first “I love you” because it’s very clear that she wants to leave with him rather than without.
just- this entire scene i ugh <3 <3 <3 <3
BREAKING. UP. WITH. MISTY ! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
glass of wine filled to the brim? sarah’s my type of gal
the speech was really beautiful and sweet without being too cheesy and kudos to cristin for really delivering it like a pro! especially her “abe, don’t fuck this up” like yes girl kill him, chop him to pieces with your eyes!!! also camila is such really pretty bride
nyles looks like a cockatoo here :
nyles taking the shot and smashing the glass into the ground got me 🤭😵😏🥵
“I’m your son” I SCREAM
GIVE THE MAN A WHITE HORSE DAMNIT
Gotta admit Sarah looks like a bomb (lol nu pun intended) ass super hero in her bridesmaid dress and C4-gettup
The sentence ending up being total grammatical gibberish but Nyles trying so. damn. hard is the sweetest thing ever and should and will go down in rom-com history. It’s super romantic but also well-balanced by humor and I just.. so good. This is the kind of characters and relationships I love and wanna write myself
“you’re my favorite person that i’ve ever met” 🥺🥺🥺
“i’d rather die with you than live in this world without you” WHY AM I SO SINGLE SOMEONE LOVEE ME LIKE THIS
okay so idk but “what if we get sick of each other?” “we’re already sick of each other. it’s the best.” is so so so soft, the way nyles says it like it doesn’t matter and is honestly another key moment for me: they’ve experienced basically everything imaginable during their time in the box/loop. they’ve liked, disliked, loved, hated each other and still: he loves her. the fact that nyles knows no matter what happens it won’t stop that because it’s them?? ouch my heart.
this chaotic mess of a pairing?MESSY BOMB BRIDESMAID AND CURLY-HAIR HAWAII SHIRT-BOI!! MY OTp
Them dissing Nyles’ mom on their way into potential death? that’s love, baby
the fUCKING KISSSSSSS MANNNNNNNNNN!!!! SO ICONIC AND THE EXPLOSION IN THE BACKGROUND AND JUST WE DESERVE THIS THEY DESERVE THIS EVERYONE DESERVES THISSSS!!!
NEVER OVEER THIS EVER FOREVER NEVER
Ok so I was SURE that when it faded to black that it was done and I grew super ficking frustrated because it would leave us with this “the ending is up to whatever you chose”-kinda thing kinda a la Celeste and Jesse where it just feels unresolved and I WASN’T OKAY WITH THAT. So I’m so happy we got to know that it worked and the bebes will live happuilly ever after with Nyles’ shaggy dog:’)
Their hands on each other’s knee >>>>>
all in all 100000/10
#palm springs#palm springs spoilers#andy samberg#cristin milioti#camila mendes#sarah x nyles#emilie says things#sarah#nyles#the lonely island#nyrah
206 notes
·
View notes
Text
abstract: chapter 1
chapter 2!!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader
Summary: Wait- Bucky Barnes attends your art class? And you didn’t even recognize him?
Word count: 7k (i am insane i know this!! you can also find this fic on ao3 !!)
Author’s note: hello! attempting to upload a fic on here for the first time ever! do i understand this website’s format. perhaps not. but am i going to try? perhaps yes! anyways hope you all like it :) likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!!! umm idk how this works if you wanna follow me you can?? do follows exist on tumblr dot com i think they do. hope they do. love you all. this is a long chapter buckle up (BUCKle up lmao i am not funny)!! enjoy ;o
“Hey, can you come look at this?”
You teach three classes a week- Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. The latter two are enjoyable in their own right, but Mondays are definitely your favorite. Instead of teaching kids, who are funny and creative but so messy, and so loud, you get to teach adults. People your own age or usually older, putting you in a position of authority, valuing your opinion, wanting you to come look at things.
It’s a delightful power trip.
You turn away from the window to see who’s speaking.
It’s Steve.
Of course it’s Steve, your star student, staring at you with a worn, weary intensity, wiping a paintbrush on a paper towel. He’s already pushed his sheet of paper across the table, bumpy with water and watercolor paint, cream-colored edges starting to curl. He leans away from it, reclining in a seat that’s adult-sized but dwarfed by his frame, looking so forlorn, like the paper just abandoned him, moved to the opposite side of the table by itself.
You stifle a laugh.
“Sure,” you say, and make your way over to his table.
Steve fidgets in his seat as you look at his painting. You try to keep your jaw in check.
It drops anyway.
As always, it’s beautiful. He’s painted a sky, swirling with purples and pinks, and careful clouds, flickering in and out between layers of paint, elegant and pale yellow-orange. And the sun- it’s off-center, and you’re sure it was unintentional, but that adds to the effect, because it’s hot red, and dazzling, and slowly seeping into the still-wet sky. Tendrils of red like real sunbeams, pushing through the clouds like a real sunset.
You don’t know why Steve even takes this class. Half the time, you feel like he should be the one teaching.
“It’s gorgeous,” you say eventually, once your words come back to you. “I love how you painted the sun- the red, oh my god. You’re seriously a natural.”
“Thank you,” Steve says, and you push the paper back towards him. He looks down at it, still tense, brow furrowed, and you almost laugh again, until he looks back up at you. “I wanted to know what you thought about it.”
Power trip.
“I love it,” you say, giving him a reassuring smile, which he hesitantly returns. You might be laying it on a little thick, but Steve still looks distressed, and you genuinely like the guy enough to try to help him.
When he walked in with his friend for the first class, you were floored. People like Steve don’t attend classes like this- classes like this are attended by regular people. Not people that walk like dancers, all grace and light steps, not people that are extraordinarily jacked, with jutting shoulders and rippling muscles, not people that have a weirdly authoritarian air around them, like a politician, but less shrewd.
Still, you welcomed them and made awkward small-talk and tried not to stare at their arms and hoped you came across as a somewhat decent person. It’s your first time teaching adults, you explained, and Steve gave you a smile so sincere and reassured you that you would do great, boosting your confidence to the point where you actually did.
Steve is lovely. He’s passionate about art and has a good eye, a better eye than you, really, and he always tries so hard with whatever he does, and he’s funny in a dorky way, and completely unaware of it. He always wears a baseball hat and tucks his shirts into his pants and called you ma’am once, and looked so surprised when you burst out laughing and told him to call you by your first name. With him, two classes have flown by, and now, during the third, he’s warmed up to you enough to talk to you like a friend.
The friend he brings with him, though?
A total douchebag.
The night to Steve’s day, the rain to his sunshine. It’s obvious that Steve brings him along as some sort of moral support, to make himself look less out of place, which is fine, except the guy always treats you like you’ve perpetually offended him.
And maybe you have, maybe one time you did something that’s worthy of his eternal dislike, but you wouldn’t know what it is, because he’s never brought it up, because he barely fucking talks.
You don’t think he’s a naturally quiet guy. He definitely looks like he has a lot to say, but no matter what, he only ever talks in single-syllable bursts, quiet enough that half the time you miss what he’s saying.
He doesn’t ignore you, either- he listens to everything you say and lets his judgement flicker over his face- which is way worse. A glare is a slight misstep, a shake of his head means that you’ve just said something that he finds stupid, a scowl is a catastrophe.
You don’t even know his name. He’s never introduced himself, and always writes his name in a shaky, illegible scrawl on the sign-in sheet, and by now you don’t care enough to look it up.
Still, you’re nice to him, polite. It’s okay if he doesn’t like you. You don’t need to be liked- being noticed is enough.
You shift away from Steve to his friend, sitting next to him at the table. He’s staring at you in a way that you can only describe as violent, and you flinch, and then plaster your smile back on.
“How’s it going?” You ask, expecting no response, stealing a glance at his paper. He’s painted the entire sheet a watered-down blue, and you want to congratulate him, for actually participating this time, but you don’t say anything. “The watercolors working out for you?”
Your heart goes out to the poor paintbrush in his hand. It’s barely been used, is steadily dripping water, and is being throttled in his gloved grip. He always wears one glove- it’s weird, but you’re not going to pry.
He catches you looking and a whole myriad of emotion plays over his face; irritation and shame, a creased brow and a scowl. You have the feeling that you’ve taken a massive overstep, even though you haven’t said anything else, even though you’re not looking at his hand anymore, just at him.
His hair hangs over his eyes, glossy and carelessly wavy, which you would find pretty, maybe, if he wasn’t looking at you the way he is. Like you’ve just done something terrible.
“Sure,” he says, and that’s it.
Even when you turn away, he’s glaring.
You hate it, so you pretend it’s not happening.
Steve gives you a sympathetic glance before you head back. You wave it off.
“Shonna,” you call, to the fiftysomething woman hunched over her painting a few tables down, “how’re the flowers looking?”
***
Thirty minutes before your fourth Monday class starts, you arrive at the studio to find Rina washing paintbrushes in the sink.
“Hey,” you call.
She turns to you and gives you a surprised grin. “Oh, hey! You’re here early- come help with these brushes.”
You set your bag on the counter by the wall and join her at the sink. You’ve known Rina for ages- ever since you were roommates in college. The class before yours is taught before, some advanced painting thing that she is extremely overqualified to teach.
She’s kind of famous. And kind of self-absorbed, and a little bit pretentious, but maybe that’s just what happens when you’re as successful in your field as she is. No matter what it is, you can’t complain- she’s the one that helped get you this job in the first place.
“A couple of people in my class like to get here early, so I just try to arrive before them,” you say. She passes you a clean paintbrush. You reach around her and tear off a paper towel from the dispenser. “Did you dye your hair? It looks so pretty.”
“Yes!” She shakes her head, letting her hair sway. Last time you met her, she had dyed it pink. Now it’s mahogany red, straight and sleek and falling just past her shoulders. She looks a little unreal. “How’s your class going? Are the people okay?”
“Yeah, most of them are pretty nice.”
She passes you another paintbrush to dry. You consider bringing up Steve’s friend, but decide against it.
“That’s good- and you’re welcome, by the way. But okay, listen. Do you remember that one guy I told you about a while back, Dustin? So yesterday I was just sitting at home, and then he texted me…”
With the formalities out of the way, she launches into a story about someone you definitely don’t remember. Still, you humor her, listen to what she has to say, chime in at the right parts and say “really?” and “no way!” too many times. The minutes tick by.
When all of the brushes are washed and dried, you take them, since you’re going to be the one using them next, and start setting up for the class. Rina walks away and grabs her stuff from the counter. She lingers by the doorway, door already propped open, aimlessly scrolling through something on her phone, hesitant to leave for a reason you don’t know. Maybe she has more to say- if that’s even, like, possible.
You set the brushes in a container at the center table, and head over to the shelves on the far wall to pull out more supplies. Unfortunately, today’s class is revolving around watercolor again. It’s drudgery, such a boring medium- dull, unsaturated, painstaking when it comes to detail. You bring out a stack of paper, the least-depressing palettes, and then mason jars for holding water.
You’re setting the last jar on the table when Rina shrieks.
It startles you, making your hand slip.
The jar wobbles over the edge of the table and then falls, shattering into cloudy glass pieces at your feet.
“Shit,” you curse, and look over at her. “Rina, what the hell?”
Standing across from her in the doorway, having arrived early for class as usual, are Steve and his friends, two shades more flustered than usual. Rina is gawking at them.
Okay, they’re attractive, but not that attractive.
Not shriek-worthy attractive.
You sigh loudly and carefully step over the glass, making your way over to them. “Hi, Steve,” you say, and he jolts, like a scared cat. He’s blushing, stepping back into the hallway, hands awkwardly dangling at his sides. His friend is staring at Rina like he’s about to murder her, and you’re staring at him like you’re about to ask him to pass you the broom behind the door.
Because you are.
“Sorry about… that. There’s a broom behind the door, could you pass it to me?”
He opens his mouth to say something, and you are desperate to hear him, even if he’s only going to utter a simple yes, but Rina buts in.
“You did not just ask the Winter Soldier to pass you a broom.”
Who?
“Girl, what?”
All three of you turn to her, cornering back into the wall. She looks even more unreal, eyes blown wide, red creeping up her neck, giving her hair a run for its money, still gawking. You resist the urge to reach out and pull her chin back up, to close her mouth.
She alternates between looking at Steve and at…
“That’s the Winter Soldier,” she says slowly, like she’s trying to convince herself, or you, and then steps closer to Steve, who instinctively takes a step back. He’s fully in the hallway, now. “And you’re Captain America.”
Steve’s jaw clenches. He stays silent, and you feel bad for him, that’s all you can feel, really- you are confused beyond reason, halfway convinced that Rina is losing her shit, still awaiting the broom, still awaiting Steve’s friend’s words, racking your brain for any image of Captain America or the Winter Soldier that you might have- and coming up completely empty.
You don’t watch the news, like, ever.
Little details float back to you. Steve’s dressing sense, his manners, his muscles…
The baseball caps that both of them are always wearing...
His friend’s glove…
Oh, fuck.
“Are you?” You ask dumbly. The question is meant for both of them, but you only look at one of them while speaking. A glare meets you back- a slight misstep.
You can’t even see your feet, in this situation. You’re walking blind.
Steve crosses his arms and looks at you sternly. He doesn’t look angry, but as close as he can get. “Yes,” he says, completely guarded and unfriendly and not lovely at all. “I thought you knew that.”
You are so stupid- how did you not know that?
“I didn’t,” you say, and you don’t sound convincing at all. Not much fazes you, but you are absolutely, positively fazed right now, and starting to spiral out. “I had no idea- I thought you guys could have been, like, bodyguards, or something, not actual Avengers, oh my god. I’m so sorry, shit, thank you for your service?”
You’re going to end it all- this is so embarrassing.
Steve’s mouth twitches. Rina is scarlet-faced. The Winter Soldier, god, looks so tense, like he might shatter, too, into silent, grumpy pieces all over the floor.
“You’re welcome,” Steve says, and marginally relaxes. He stays in the hallway, the Winter Soldier by the door- you should have paid more attention in your tenth grade history class, what is the guy’s name?
Rina peels herself off the wall, and you start to get nervous. There’s a painful silence, with lots of staring, where you’re still trying to coax a few rational thoughts out of your brain, and only coming up with one- Rina needs to leave.
You try to tell her that with your eyes, with a pointed look, but you’re not great at this whole communication-through-expressions thing, so she doesn’t get the hint, or does and just ignores it.
“So, let me get this straight,” she says, tearing the silence like a plastic seal, voice starting to rise, from wonder to excitement, from painless curiosity to danger, “there’s two Avengers taking your class? And you didn’t even recognize them?”
“Nope,” you say, looking away, at a stain on the wall, at the distant glass shards still unswept away on the floor.
“That’s…”
She trails off before she has the chance to call you stupid, because the Winter Soldier gives her a pointed look of his own. Low brows and dark eyelashes, blazing blue eyes- she has no choice but to listen. Your staring was irritating, but his is intimidating.
She scampers away, mumbling something you can’t catch and brushing against Steve as she leaves.
This whole thing is so unprofessional, but at least you can breathe again-
“Here,” the Winter Soldier says, and a broom handle comes into your view.
Just one word, but you’ll take it with open arms. You take the broom from him, give an unreturned, unfamiliarly sheepish smile and head back to the broken glass on the floor.
The broken glass is swept up and tossed in the trash. You avoid looking at the doorway, focusing on other useless tasks instead. Rearranging the supplies on the table, fiddling with the window blinds, chatting with the rest of the class attendees as they start to file in.
Then the class starts and you’re swept back into your demonstration, talking and teaching and showing off different techniques that can be done with different types of brushes. You only look in their direction once, right after showing off some technique you barely remember from art school with a fan brush- they sit at their table near the back, Steve paying attention as usual, his friend silently reacting, as usual.
So they decided to stay- that’s good. Great, even.
Until the next part of the class starts, when everyone gets to work on their own paintings, when you have to stop talking.
You mill around the room, searching for a conversation to join in on or a comment to make, but find none. Then you take a sheet of paper and hopelessly try to draw- search for a distraction and a spark up of an idea, something, anything, and come up completely empty. It’s just...
How famous are they? Like, A-list celebrity famous? Are they offended that you didn’t recognize them- should you start treating them differently? You don’t keep up with this stuff. You have an impossibly long list of other things to worry about- you don’t have the time to worry about this stuff. The Avengers aren’t something you think about ever, because why should you?
If you opened any newspaper or magazine you would find something about them- a charity gala they attended, some recent threat they neutralized, the latest gossip surrounding their personal lives. But those lives are so far detached from your own that you’ve never bothered to look.
You simply don’t care. You’re not a native New Yorker- it’s not like these people are your hometown heroes, that you grew up idolizing them. They save the world time and time again and society is forever indebted to them and all of that, but what are you supposed to do about it?
And most importantly, what is the Winter Soldier’s fucking name?
Enough of this chaos goes on in your mind to make your head hurt. Fuck it, you decide- you’ll face it. You straighten your shoulders as you stand, trying your best to look purposeful as you walk to their table, like you have reason to go over there. Yeah, they’re strong. Genetically enhanced and all of that, and they’re important: they’re Avengers.
But they’re taking your class.
You slide into the chair across from the Soldier without taking the time to gauge their reactions.
“Do other people here know?” You ask.
Steve startles, eyes widening, and then considers the question while swirling his brush in green paint. He’s working on a landscape today, you think. “Shonna might,” he says, not rudely. “But nobody else.”
So maybe not that famous. Or maybe the people here are just like you and don’t care.
But it still doesn’t make sense. “Then why did you think that I knew?”
“Because you talk a lot,” Steve says, like it’s the most obvious thing ever.
“Well, yeah, that’s part of the job-”
Steve cuts you off, and fuck, you hate getting interrupted. But he’s smiling, and you can’t bring yourself to get upset over it. “You talk a lot to us.”
Us?
More like to him.
You take it in stride, don’t let your confidence slip. You’ve purposely angled your head away, and you know the Winter Soldier is staring at you- you can feel it on your cheek, on your shoulder, on every nerve in your face. You don’t look back at him. This revelation hasn’t made him any less unpleasant.
“Yeah,” you say, like it’s just as obvious, “because you’re a nice guy, Steve.”
Steve raises his eyebrows so high that they disappear under the brim of his hat. You smile at him as nicely as you can, sugar-sweet, until he can’t take anymore and drops his gaze back to his painting. You turn back to the nameless man across from you.
Winter Soldier.
“Hi,” you say, only to him, and prop your elbows up on the table, resting your face in your hands. “I love the little pattern you have going on with your painting.”
It’s random splotches of black paint- calling it a pattern is an exaggeration. But you carry on.
“This is probably a bad time to ask, and it’s kind of a dumb question, but, like, what’s your name?”
He just barely raises an eyebrow, allowing for a fraction of surprise, before schooling his expression back into his usual mix of anger and boredom, a casual glare and slight frown. For a moment, you wonder what he looks like when he’s happy.
“You don’t know his name?” Steve is in disbelief, and then he winces, and you think he’s been kicked under the table. Abruptly, you laugh.
It rings out. A few people turn and stare, but you brush it all off with another smile.
He’s still staring. You don’t mind it.
The paintbrush in his hand is suddenly unsteady.
“My name is Bucky,” he says, slowly and loudly enough for you to make out the sound of his voice, for the first time ever.
He is definitely bothered by you asking, his mouth drawn tight, and you can’t even take the time to appreciate how cutesy his name is compared to his demeanor, because oh hell. It’s going to be difficult to keep up this whole dislike thing, if his voice sounds like this, low and rough and gritty like sandpaper, pleasantly grating over you and your skin…
You have to consciously remind yourself to keep on smiling.
“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”
Things should feel different, but they don’t. Nobody really reacts- everything resumes as normal. Steve focuses on his panting, adding delicate brushstrokes to the branches of a tree. You linger for a moment, and then get up from the table and flutter off to someone else.
For every class, you wear this kitschy apron, paint-stained, with strings tied in a hasty bow against your back that Bucky always aches to even out. Someone tells you something, and you respond eagerly, fully phased out of the past incident.
He stares until he realizes he’s staring, and then drops his eyes back down to his paper.
Steve wanted to attend this class for a number of reasons- he was bored and wanted something to occupy his time, he wanted to revisit an old hobby, he wanted to learn from you- some hip, emerging artist he’s a fan of, whose work he’s been following for a while now, who is seriously talented, although you have yet to prove it. He wanted to go do something separated from the events of his regular life.
So much wanting. Bucky wants to know why you’re so indifferent.
He doesn’t know if it’s a good thing that you didn’t know his name, or that you didn’t flinch or gasp or accuse him of something, or pointedly look at his left arm. Should he be thankful? Steve is clearly thankful, already loosening up, freed of any lasting tension.
Bucky just feels wary. You’re unsettling.
You come back over to their table one more time. The sleeves of your shirt are pushed up, and there’s a smear of something dark on your forearm, ink or paint. On one wrist you’re wearing a bracelet made of braided leather. On the other you wear a bulky digital watch.
Practical.
“Everything okay?” You ask, as if something not okay could potentially have happened, in your forty-five minute absence.
Steve fixes you with a friendly smile. Bucky can’t ever bring himself to do the same.
“Yep,” Steve says, and you nod your head, clearly relieved.
“Great!” You glance at him for a spare second, and turn away again.
Everyone he knows is so guarded, walls built high and doors barred shut. Except for you, if Bucky can say that he knows you, the perky art instructor, Steve’s favorite artist. You’re confident and flippant, and that should be a bad pairing, but somehow you can carry yourself within it just fine. Always purposeful in the space you occupy, not reacting to the knowledge of his and Steve’s major, momentous identities.
Bucky wonders, idly, as he blots water over what you so generously called a pattern, why you didn’t.
It’s not like he wants you to acknowledge it, wants you to call him a war criminal or a Rusisan spy. He just wants you to-
He doesn’t know.
The class goes on. An older couple sitting a few tables away have caught your attention, chattering on and on about their personal lives.They have a pet cat that their landlord doesn’t know about, and when they retire they want to move to the seaside in Italy, and in May their son is going to graduate high school.
“High school?” You gasp, loud for no reason. “I hated high school.”
Before the class ends, you take your position at the front of the studio, and talk some more. He knows it’s part of your job, but you are excessive.
There’s an art exhibition going on at some museum, and one of the featured artists is an acquaintance of yours, and on Saturday the admission fee is discounted, and if anybody is interested, you have a stack of flyers on the center table. And you hope that everyone has a good week.
You look at Bucky while finishing up your little monologue, giving a half-smile that’s for the whole class, but seemingly only directed at him. He blinks slowly, and when he opens his eyes again, you’re looking somewhere else.
***
“Morning, pal, you ready to go?”
Steve gives him a hopeful smile as he peels an orange.
Bucky’s hair is still wet from his shower, dripping water onto his shirt. It’s early, too early to go anywhere. He doesn’t even know why he’s awake- usually after his wake-of-dawn runs, he falls back asleep, or lies down and just stares at his ceiling, thinking, until he grows restless enough to get up and do something. But today, the restlessness came much sooner, so he got up much sooner, and it might already be a mistake.
He takes a seat at the kitchen island, next to Sam, trying to think of something that Steve might have had planned for today, and coming up completely empty. “Go where?”
Steve looks hurt, for a brief second. “The exhibition at the museum, remember?”
Oh.
That.
“I’m not going to that,” Bucky says, harshly enough for it to be dropped.
Steve does not drop it. “Hey, come on. Just look at it.”
From his back pocket, Steve pulls out a flyer, one of the flyers you had out on Monday, folded up in a neat square- when did Steve pick one of those up? He holds it out, and Bucky, wishing he was asleep again, takes it.
He unfolds it, and the words are written in tiny letters, and the few photos on the paper are in color but too grainy to make out, and it gives him a slight headache, but he pretends to look it over. Sam leans into him to see it, loudly crunching cereal in Bucky’s ear.
“Looks cool, Rogers,” Sam says, and Steve grins, and now Bucky is the bad guy in the situation, for not wanting to go, even though Sam isn’t going either.
Bucky passes the flyer back without reading a single word.
“I’m not going,” he says, again.
But Steve is relentless. He sets the orange peels aside and gives him a look, and Bucky can already feel his resolve starting to crumble, and it’s kind of pathetic, really. Does he not understand that Bucky is already doing as much as he can?
“Why not?”
He picks the easiest answer.
“I don’t want to.”
Steve’s brow furrows as he splits the orange into two, giving half to Bucky. Sam slurps the milk from his cereal bowl.
They’re all blissfully silent.
“Come on, Bucky,” Steve says suddenly, almost begging. “I really want to see it.”
“I don’t-” He falters, he’s losing the battle. “How many people are there gonna be?”
Steve lights up. Bucky tries to stay indignant, tries to keep his face twisted in dislike, but it’s difficult with Steve. He’s always so full of optimism, has so much of it that it spills out through the seams, rubs off onto whoever’s closest.
“Not that many,” Steve says, like a promise, shaking his head. “That’s why we should go now.”
“Will she be there?”
Sam perks up.
Steve frowns. “No? Or wait, maybe. It’s a public place- I don’t know. She could be.”
It’s miles off from the answer he wants, but again, for Steve, he’ll take it. Bucky ignores Sam leaning across the counter like an idiot and asking “who’s she?” and eats his orange slices in silence.
***
Huge, bulbous heads, and beady little eyes. The limbs are long and wavy and contorted in the weirdest positions, seas of arms and legs and joints, women twisted over each other in gnarled embraces, a man with his arms twirling over and over again around his own torso. And the colors- a complete eclectic mess of everything- blue, red, yellow, green, purple. Everything.
You walk through the museum floor one, two, three times. The paintings on display are unsettling and ugly, and you’re on the verge of tears.
They’re gorgeous. Pain thrown on a canvas, told through canvas. It’s overwhelming- you’re overwhelmed, and you can’t do anything else about it. The museum just opened and there’s barely any people around- you can wallow in your sadness as much as you want to, for now.
Or maybe you’ll wallow in your frustration, instead.
This… you want to create like this.
But you don’t have it.
It being an impossible, nearly unattainable type of pain, or misery or anger or any other emotion so strong and visceral that you could translate it into something like this, something that evokes something else from other people. From an audience.
You might have had something like that once, but that’s all too far behind you now. Forgettable. What you need right now is an idea, a spark of inspiration, a single coherent thought. A confirmation that you aren’t completely lost.
You wander back to a painting in a far corner, all alone in a small alcove. A red woman, with her head nestled in green grass and legs wrapping around the sun, quite literally head over heels for it. Her mouth is wide open, gaping, calling, wailing, maybe. She has a hooked nose and a mole on one of her arms, and her white dress has fallen down to pool on the grass, and her legs are lithe and unshaven, prickly like the grass, just like the yellow spikes of the sun, drawn almost comically.
How do you even- how do you even come up with things like this?
By living an interesting life, probably. Through not being boring.
You stay there for a while. Long enough that more people start to file in, pretentious art students wearing all black, eccentric people with awesome haircuts, tourists. They peer over your shoulders, awkwardly, waiting for you to move. When you don’t, they leave you to be, giving you a rude look or two that you pay no mind to. There’s space on either side of you, if they’re so desperate to see. Sidling up right against you is kind of weird, but you’ll excuse it, for this painting.
Eventually, you realize that you should probably get going.
You’ve been standing so long that your legs are starting to ache, and there’s countless other Saturday errands you have to run- doing your laundry, buying groceries, calling up your mom- boring Saturday things to do.
You leave the red woman, regrettably. The fabric of your sleeve comes back dry when you wipe your eyes, even though you feel fully washed away, feel like you’re floating as you drift over to the elevator.
The doors slide open and a few people file out, and then it’s empty, thankfully. You step inside, press the button for the ground floor, wait for the doors to fully close-
“Wait,” a voice calls.
You’re not rude- you press the button to hold open the door.
When it fully opens, Steve steps inside, followed by Bucky.
You’re still out of it. You don’t even realize who they are, not until the doors have slid shut and the floor jolts as the elevator starts its descent and they’ve been staring at you for a solid five seconds.
“Oh, hi,” you say, after too much silence. You need to get yourself together. “You guys came!”
Put a little pep in your step! And more joy in your voice- nobody wants to listen to someone so drained.
Steve shrugs. “I wanted to see it.”
Bucky just smolders, clearly saying with his silence, “I didn’t.”
“Did you like it?”
Steve considers your question. The elevator stops at another floor and the doors slide open, but there’s nobody waiting to step inside. You wait for Steve to gather his words together, sure that he’s trying to come up with a nice way to voice whatever he’s thinking, which is definitely not nice. There’s no way that he liked the art, not one chance.
“It was… intriguing,” he says, at last. Neither of them are wearing hats today, because the museum doesn’t allow it. Even in this artificial light, his hair shines, golden-blond. “Did you like it?”
“Yes,” you say, without wasting a second. “The one of the red woman- it’s probably the best thing I’ve seen all year.”
“It’s only January,” Bucky grumbles.
His voice shocks you, sends an ice-cold jolt up your spine that you definitely dislike.
Steve turns to him, peering over your shoulder, surprised and disappointed. The two of them have a silent conversation with their eyes and you stand in the midst of it, waiting for the goosebumps to settle back down, waiting for the chill to go away.
It’s difficult- he clearly doesn’t like you, either- and even if he has his own troubling little backstory, which you don’t care enough about to google, it’s not justified.
But…
It almost makes his aggression... amusing.
“It is January,” you say politely, dismissing him. “Great observation.”
The elevator reaches the ground floor and the doors side open. You exit in step with Steve, with Bucky right on your heels.
You all stand around in the museum lobby, a wide hallway down from the giftshop and a small cafe.
“Are you headed out?” Steve asks. He puts his hands in his pockets, feet planted wide.
Bucky crosses his arms. He’s wearing all black. If it were anyone else, you would make a joke- he could almost pass off as a pretentious art student, if the outlines of his body weren’t so visible through his clothes, all taut muscle and sharp angles. His hair curls over his shoulders, prettier than anything you’ve seen on any girl.
These guys are Avengers, you think, and proceed to push the thought away.
They look so… un-Avenger-y.
“Um.” You press a hand against your forehead, trying to formulate a response. Chores suddenly seem miles away, the last thing you should be doing. You have all of Sunday to complete them, anyway.
“I was going to get something to eat from the cafe first,” you say, nodding over in its direction. “You guys wanna join me?”
You don't know why you look at Bucky when you say it
“Sure!” Steve says, all cheery, still standing alongside you. He smiles and his teeth are pearly white.
Of course his teeth are pearly white. Dentists everywhere are probably cowering, clutching their little metal instruments for dear life.
Then he hesitates, and turns to Bucky. “If you have nothing else to do, I mean.”
Bucky pauses. You and Steve both stare him down.
“They have these raspberry-almond muffins that are to die for,” you say, like it’ll convince him.
He rolls his eyes. Bored and still gorgeous- if only.
“I’m free,” he says, and you don’t know why he looks at you when he says it.
You pay the bored teenager working the cash register with cash. He gives you your change, and when he turns away to prepare your order, you shove half of the bills and all of your coins into the tip jar.
Bucky sits at the farthest table with Steve. His knees can barely fit underneath it, and the tabletop is sticky, and he’s now willingly spending more time here, and with no disguise there is no way that he isn’t going to be recognized by someone, and he doesn’t know why he hasn’t fully booked it yet.
Because…
He doesn’t know.
Maybe because you’re not asking for anything from him, aren’t minding that he’s sullen or unapproachable or anything else- his presence seems to be enough for you, which is bothersome, and at the same time, mildly exciting.
“Are you having fun?” Steve asks, while you smile at the teenager handing you plates of muffins, little glasses of some milky-espresso-coffee drink.
“What do you think?” Bucky asks, while you start your journey back to the table, and Steve opens his mouth to respond, already bothered, and Bucky’s already guilty, but then Steve hops up to help you carry everything back.
You sit down laughing. Steve is laughing, too. The corners of your eyes crease and he can see all of your teeth, and you look at him for a split second, and then turn away before he can get a read on your expression.
He sits in silence, while you and Steve trade jokes and stories and easy banter, talking about art and local politics and all types of things he can’t bring himself to care about, things that Steve is relishing in. You’re witty, apparently, or at least quick enough to get a few quick laughs out of Steve, and Bucky would never say it, he’s barely thinking it, but he appreciates you for it.
And the muffin isn’t quite to die for, but it’s okay.
During a lull in the conversation, you break your attention away from Steve and turn back to Bucky. You look concerned, almost, still smiling but without showing all of your teeth, leaning towards him like you’re about to tell him a secret.
“I never apologized for before,” you say, and Bucky immediately sits up on edge.
Even Steve goes wary, eyes narrowing.
You suddenly give a long, weary sigh, and press a hand against the back of your neck, like whatever you’re about to say is going to be so tedious. “For my friend flipping out when she saw you guys- she’s literally crazy, she’s always doing too much- but on her behalf, I’m sorry.”
The silence following afterwards is deafening.
“It’s okay,” Steve says, after a long moment, while you’re still looking at Bucky- your eyes make his skin itch, and he doesn’t say anything else. “She’s not the worst that we’ve gotten.”
Bucky doesn’t say anything.
“Okay, great,” you say, and you slump back in your seat, looking away, back to your half-eaten muffin. You pick off an almond from the top and eat it. “Glad we got that out of the way. I just thought it would be weird if I didn’t say anything.”
“Thank you,” Steve says, so polite, even though you’ve done nothing to deserve his thanks. “Have you known her for a long time?”
“Yes, oh my god,” you say, and readjust yourself in your chair again, accidentally bumping your knee against Bucky’s, but not apologizing for it. He glances underneath the table, at your entire bare knee, visible through a rip in your jeans. “Rina- her name is Rina- was my college roommate for a while.”
“You went to college?” Steve asks.
“I have an art degree,” you say dryly, “which was… an okay decision, I guess. Sometimes I think I should have just dropped out and done, like, stand-up or something.”
You clearly don’t want to discuss it, leaving the last part as some sort of rhetorical joke. Steve takes the hint and nods, already closing the chapter, and you take a sip from your little glass, finally silent. The foam on the top of the drink sticks to your mouth until you lick it off. Bucky replies to it anyway.
“Why stand-up?”
You turn to him so fast that he almost misses you faltering, and give him a dazzling smile. He thinks of your bare knee under the table, and tries not to sweat. “Because I’m funny, Bucky.”
He doesn’t like how his name sounds when you say it. “Tell me a joke.”
“Oh, okay,” you say, and clasp your hands together. Steve is watching, rapt at attention. “Let me think real quick- oh, I have one. Which beverage has a black belt in karate?”
Bucky waits.
You wait, expecting something from him.
It’s Steve that has to say, “I don’t know, which beverage?”
“Fruit punch,” you say, exaggerating the last part, and Bucky just keeps on waiting.
Steve cracks a small smile.
“Let me tell you another,” you say. “What type of phone does a piece of fruit carry?”
Steve takes a few wild guesses. He’s enjoying this, and you are too, both of you feeding off of each other. “A phone-fruit. A fruit-phone. A frone?”
You shake your head. “A blackberry.”
Bucky doesn’t tell you that he has no idea what you’re talking about.
“Tough crowd,” you say, when he doesn’t react. “Don’t worry, I have more. Where do you go on red and stop on green?”
“Where?’ Steve asks, waiting, leaning forward in anticipation.
“When you’re eating a watermelon!”
It is not funny, it’s painfully unfunny, and maybe that’s why you and Steve burst out laughing. Bucky steals a glance at your watch, since he doesn’t wear one of his own. It’s nearing noon- how has so much time passed? Why is he still even here when he doesn’t even like you?
“Why are all of them about fruit?”
You look at him like his question is the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard. “What food is the best listener?”
Bucky just sits. All the foam in his little espresso thing has dissolved, having been left untouched. He doesn’t like the taste of coffee- too bitter, and caffeine doesn’t work on him, anyway. Maybe he should drink it, because you paid for it, and because you didn’t make a comment about old-fashioned manners or chivalry when Steve offered to at first, just shrugged and got in line.
He knows that you won’t care.
The drink sits on its own, glass beading with condensation.
“Corn is the best listener,” you say, without waiting for Steve to throw his questions or guesses at you, without waiting for Bucky to spit out another sentence. “Because it’s all ears.”
“That wasn’t funny,” he says, and glares at the spot beside your head.
You nod sympathetically, and he thinks again of the rips in your jeans. “I know. But it was about a vegetable.”
Oh.
You stare at him straight-faced, crossing your arms over your chest. Steve does the same, and then he realizes- the two of you are a bunch of kids, punks, juveniles- mocking his stature, pretending to be serious, somehow not offending him.
“Jesus Christ,” Bucky says. “You’re…”
He can’t even help it. He looks back at you and his face works on its own. He gives a single, dry chuckle, but he’s smiling, and dragging his hand over his face, scrubbing it off just as fast, but you still see it, and smile back and gently nudge his knee again underneath the table, and then turn back away again, and he’s still staring at your hair while you take big bite out of your to-die-for raspberry-almond muffin, already back in conversation with Steve.
#thank you all for reading oh my gosh#i know this thing is long as hell#im kinda crazy asf#but whatever!!#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#marvel#captain america#bucky barnes fic#bucky x you#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader fluff#fluff#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes/reader#captain america and bucky#reader insert#artist!reader#fluff asf#read on ao3#marvel fic#ongoing fic
63 notes
·
View notes
Note
idk anything about the grace period for deltarune u can just keep this ask in the attic until that’s over.. anyway.. i really liked chap 2 i played it in one sitting 😭 the rpg combat is enjoyable enough and just the right amount more complex than the undertale combat is, although not very difficult. very touching power of friendship moments minus that fucking bird man. some of the dialogue felt quite fandom tropey and surface-level, and queen’s lines (love her tho) were hit or miss for me. i think the biggest frustration i have with it is all the useless random encounter characters clogging up your world 😞😞 there’s only so many wacky one-liners toby can give them and i am not invested enough to care! also some of those designs are uglie!! there are better ways to make a world feel real and lived in. same thing happened with undertale.
BUT it was a great time! i liked the juxtaposition between the ultimately harmless antics and charming banter with the gang and queen, and the more sinister plot going on in the background. most obviously in the ending. toriel and susie making a pie while kris RIPS OUT THEIR SOUL….spoiler warning.. did u see the theory that the soul aka red heart is you the player operating kris the vessel? i’m definitely not a theorist but i like seeing all the loose plot ends i’m having a good time. i love noelleeeeee 💞💞💞💞and i liked susie a lot more this chapter. when ralsei taught her a healing spell 😖😖 i still don’t really care about ralsei though 😓
special shoutout to the spinning teacups ☕️☕️☕️ and special NOT-shoutout to the mice games with the rotating blocks i never understood how to do that.
it was a very feel-good game. it made me feel good. standards for video game passed. what did u think tho!! i mean i assume u liked it but for the same reasons? different ones? feel free to respond with an excruciatingly long essay of ur own <3 we are back to the tt anon blocks of text i restrained myself for a bit but we are back -tt
hiii tt anon <3 back at it again with the asks that i am looking forward to answering. if i post this a little before the 48 hours i will be forgiven bc i will use the deltarune spoilers tag and also the long post tag LMAOO anyway anyway oh btw never refrain urself from sending blocks of text if my followers are mad even though i tag them long post that's ON THEM. everything u say is worth listening to & same for everything i say so that's my final stance on this 😌
i also played it in one sitting it was so GOOD. i don't care that it was 2 am here when it was released i wasss ecstatic and the game was so fucking GOOD tonby the fox delivered!! it was so so worth the wait! the music was so much better than in chapter 1 imo, like... my castle town? the cyber fields theme? the queen's fight? spamton g spamton??? rouxls' "fight"?? BANGERS. i only see bangers. the new gameplay mechanics were also very fun!! i for one kinda struggled with the mice puzzles but not nearly as much as that one section with the traffic jams where you have to go down and back up or whatever. what the hell was that? i'm surprised i actually got past it. i loved the parts in cyber field though where you had to move on beat with the music that was sooo fun!! more of that! i prefer the fighting system in undertale ngl but it's mostly bc the undertale bosses are... just so good. the one boss who rivalises for now to me is queen, although rouxls is also very fun.
as for the story itself... i liked it :) susie & noelle are fucking ADORABLE. i think they deserve to be happy forever like not even together just individually as characters they're the fucking best. susie's grown so much that's my girl... wough... ralsei i do like but... i don't trust him :D i don't think he's evil but he knows too much and tells us too little until he can't keep it for himself and i don't like that. like bro you're gonna get us in trouble stop. but ALSO some ppl speculate that himself is being misled and that the fountains wouldn't bring the roaring, which is an interesting theory. (also i miss lancer being more relevant)
uhh kris is... well... kris... :)... yeah i did hear about that theory i'm in a discord server where ppl have been going on and on about theories since the game dropped LMAOO we're all insane. um. my personal theory is that there's another knight, or that kris is at least also influenced by an "evil force" or whatever, and we're the good force influencing them bc otherwise they're just a normal albeit mischievous kid. and the stretch part is that uhhh there's two knight pieces on a chessboard, ik this isn't about chess at all but king of spades does tell you at the end of chapter 2 that you'll meet a more powerful foe = the queen, coincidentally in chess the queen is stronger than the king. hmmmmmmmmmmm. lmao i don't think my parallel here is right but it's fun to think about anyway
did you see the superboss? i didn't fight him myself but he's so fun. also @ everyone who said he's gonna be a tumblr sexyman i hate that you're right shut that shit down HJKSNFKJSDHG. also did you see the secret fucked up pipis route? it's horrible. genuinely... i watched a streamer play it and 😳 uh. well i didn't even hate berdly before anyway yeah he's annoying but like he's a snot-beaked kid i'm not gonna wish him... whatever happens in this route. legit scarring. and poor noelle... pffbbgtbg. hate this so much. but i think it was done so bad and horrible on purpose, with how specific your gameplay has to be for you to be able to complete it tonby really was like "you wanna be an asshole? undertale wasn't enough? fine. work for it. and also suffer" nskjshf. i'm never doing it <3
lastly FUCKING QUEEN!!!!!!! QUEEN MY LOVE!!!!! BEST CHARACTER. i love her sosososo much it's unreal. and i didn't mind any character designs much, i'm not too complicated in that regard shfkjsdfh i love the tasques and tasque manager though :) also the... idk their names... the butler dudes? they're so cute. swatch's design is neat
so those are my thoughts <3 can't wait to hear more from u!!!
2 notes
·
View notes