#I’ll learn a new piece of information in a discussion with someone

[firebloodbirthdeath]

“That was the trouble with slow people. Give him a fool any day. Slow people took some time to catch up, but when they did they rolled right over you” - Terry Pratchett, small gods

In small gods this quote always stood out to me and I think I just realized this idea is so core to the book and the general arc of the book. Like this is one of Brutha’s core traits and also kind of the primary arc of the book. I think unlike most protagonists with an arc of the sort Brutha has, as well as in comparison to the other people fighting Vorbis, he takes a long time to really seemingly leave the harmful beliefs behind. However when he does he bowls everyone else over.

This quote, as well as Brutha’s characterization in general, also made me think about what exactly slowness is. I think, at least in this case and context, slowness is taking the time in your thought. Brutha really takes the time to come to conclusions he comes to. He thinks about what he is learning, and some of it is probably partially denial, but in comparison to other characters that deal with this kind of situation there is not a lot. Instead it is more like he comes to his conclusions slowly and with consideration.

[tearsoftime0086]

Zero-Sum Escape: A Close Reading of Code Veronica’s Steve Burnside

Introduction + Disclaimers

If you’re a friend/mutual/unfortunate witness to my discovery of Steve Burnside, you might’ve seen this coming. I’ve become an avid enjoyer of the character, which has led to some interesting discussions about him with friends! I’ve decided to write a small (edit: it was supposed to be small) piece on what makes him so interesting, using quotes and cutscenes from the original Code Veronica game. A lot of online discourse around Steve has historically been negative, so I hope this can be a positive primer for folks who want to learn more about him, or even an interesting curio for folks wondering why someone would do such an in-depth read for a one-off character.

This reading will focus strictly on Code Veronica (and not any of the Darkside Chronicles material) – with the full understanding that many aspects of the game are a product of their time, good and bad. I’ll try to cite my evidence as much as possible, but this will obviously be coming from a subjective and modern perspective as a fan of his character! I’m also a fairly new Resident Evil fan, so if anything’s incorrect, please forgive me and let me know! I’d be happy to make edits.

Anyway, this is all in good fun – and to anyone who even reads a single sentence of this, I appreciate your time!

Reference

As a way to “cite” dialogue and cutscenes, I’ll be including rough timestamps to this great video of Code Veronica cutscenes: https://youtu.be/ym46RPHqaSY?si=a6ItTpdOn3rCZq-U. Feel free to follow along, but the text should make sense without the video too.

So, who is this guy, anyway?

Let’s start with the basics. In the game Resident Evil – Code: Veronica (taking place shortly after RE:2), you start as Claire Redfield, recent prisoner of Rockfort Island. Unfortunately, Claire finds herself in the midst of another biohazard outbreak. And what’s worse is that during her escape, a stranger in a watchtower starts shooting at her indiscriminately! (0:05)

When the dust settles, Claire comes face to face with an abrasive teenager named Steve Burnside, a fellow prisoner on the island.

“Uh, sorry about that little misunderstanding…” (0:43)

This, alongside his attempts to be “smooth” – (I mean, who says “Relax beautiful…” unironically?) doesn’t do him any favors for most players. Not to mention his active derision of Claire’s skills – he leaves her with a few choice “tsks” and a “I don’t want you following me, lady. You’ll only slow me down.” (1:30).

This opening scene sets up a few key characteristics for Steve, which I’ll be referencing throughout this piece.

Steve is someone who makes numerous mistakes, ranging from purely accidental to sheer negligence.

Steve puts a heavy emphasis on reliability/dependability. He leaves Claire because he thinks she will “slow [him] down”. We’ll see more examples of his complex with “relying on others” later on.

Where do these traits leave us? A character that ends up being deeply paradoxical, and in my opinion, super fascinating because of it.

“You’ll just end up disappointed if you rely on others”

Claire finds Steve somewhat quickly afterwards, perusing information about her brother, Chris. I think it’s important to recognize Steve’s intent here. If he was purely focused on escaping (and leaving Claire behind), he wouldn’t have bothered looking for any records relating to her. Some folks may argue that he has a crush on Claire already, and is just following teenage impulses. But trust me, there’s more concrete evidence of teenage impulses later. For now, let’s give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he was trying to help her out – it ties well with point 2.

Steve’s snooping reveals that Chris is being monitored by Umbrella. Claire immediately takes action, contacting Leon about it. At this point, Steve sarcastically tells her,

“That file shows latitude and longitude of this place. Tch, why don’t you send your brother the coordinates and ask him to come help?” (2:20)

When Claire takes him completely seriously, he becomes prickly.

S: “Hey? I was just kidding? There’s no way he could get here, even if he is your brother.” C: “Yes he can; I’m sure of it.” S: “No way. He won’t come. You’ll just end up disappointed if you rely on others. Believe me, I know!”

Steve’s sudden anger and exit demonstrate how much this topic of “reliability” affects him. He’s vocal about his need for self-reliance – and yet, if we take his investigation in a positive light, it’s not like he’s completely selfish in his attempt to escape Rockfort.

Steve is someone who desperately wants to believe in human reliability, and yet has been spurned due to the circumstances of his imprisonment. We’ll see that he tries to emulate it himself, but unfortunately (and perhaps realistically) falls short.

Yet, what really nurtures this desire is Claire – someone who he can finally depend on. The pair’s next encounter comes when Steve is in trouble (if you’ve seen the “Steve is suffering” memes, it’s from this scene). The player hears him yell a pitiful “Help me!” as he bangs against a locked door – so much for relying on yourself.

If Claire solves the puzzle fast enough, Steve escapes and tells her, “That was too close. But I found something. Thanks to… you.” (3:44).

Thus begins the two’s shaky partnership – and believe me, it’s shaky. Steve runs off yet again, only agreeing to give Claire the essential golden lugers if she trades him something “fully automatic”. But Steve’s obviously on better terms with her now, as seen when he emphatically tells her, “See? This is why you need me. I got your back,” later (5:10). Quite cooperative for someone who was crowing about not relying on others.

In the midst of these scenes is a growing desire to look good to Claire – to be someone she can count on.

The knight fantasy – and bitter reality

Steve ends up describing his own motivation pretty well. Claire finds herself stuck with a nasty Bandersnatch, before Steve dramatically comes to her rescue (more on this in the next section). Afterwards, he eagerly proclaims the following:

S: “Oh yeah, that felt good! Don’t worry Claire, your knight in shining armor is here!” C: “You wish – but thanks for the help.” S: “See? This is why you need me. I got your back.” (4:54)

Steve wants Claire to see him as someone she can rely on – as a self-proclaimed knight to save her from the influx of zombies. It’s why he tells her to wait as he clears out the following area with his “new toy” (6:35). He wants to be the hero who saves the day – Claire might not be able to count on others, but she can sure count on him. He even states it outright afterwards:

“See? You can depend on me.” (6:58)

But maybe this is too blatant of a turn even for him, because he immediately backs off and instead mentions his guns instead:

“You see? This thing is a lot more reliable than any person.” (6:59)

Claire takes immediate suspicion of this, however, and starts to ask questions.

C: “Than people?” S: “…” C: “Steve, what were you doing here? Who brought you here, and where’s your family?” S: “Shut up – I don’t want to talk about it!” *shoots his gun at the wall* C: “Steve…” S: “Never mind. Let’s get going.” (7:04)

Note that he punctures this conversation with an angsty emptying of his gun magazine at the wall. This is no knight – this is volatile, teenage behavior. Claire can tell there’s something on his mind, but Steve doesn’t seem to be in the condition to explain anything.

Steve does the same thing four times – aka, analyzing entrances

As a brief interruption (but it ties into the rest, I promise), let’s take a chance to look at the different ways Steve barges into a cutscene. Humor aside, Steve’s physical actions vary across the four different times he comes to Claire’s “rescue”.

Bandersnatch (4:30)

The first rescue is all cliches and edge. Claire’s “knight in shining armor” breaks through a window dramatically. He shoots at the Bandersnatch without even directly aiming at him, walking forward as he shoots with his dual wielded lugers. It’s almost comical as he walks straight up to the Bandersnatch, delivering a kick and single killing shot for good measure.

It’s all impractical – Steve’s incessant wish to dual wield would hardly be effective in real life, let alone everything else here.  But this scene, cliche as it may be, reflects what Steve wants to be in front of Claire. He’s the action hero, the knight – the one who can be counted on to swoop in and save the day.

The Infamous Father Scene (8:13)

These heroics fail him once the two encounter his father. No longer is this a fantasy but bitter reality – and Steve can’t find it in him to shoot his infected dad. It’s only when Claire is in peril that he takes action – and this time, it’s impulsive and rough. He unloads all his ammo in a single, shaking shot, continuing to press the trigger even when it’s all gone.

It’s now that Steve tells Claire the full story – his father was caught trying to sell confidential Umbrella information, leaving his mother dead and the two of them locked up here. He morosely tells Claire, “He was a fool to do something so reckless! So stupid…” (10:15). We can see how much his father’s actions have impacted him – his desire for consistency comes from having his familial life ripped apart by the actions of someone he trusted dearly. And now, at the end of it, he is truly alone – the last one left in his family.

Alfred (11:07)

The next time we find Steve, we see a little bit of the Bandersnatch energy back in him – there’s the same aim, the same kick (to open the door) – but it’s less dramatic this time. There’s no slow-motion focus on shattered glass, no cocky final shot. In fact, this encounter leaves Steve visibly hurt – a crack in his armor. Steve’s still trying to be Claire’s dependable rescuer, and yet this encounter shows that he’s not the infallible knight he wishes to be. Far from it, considering the mistakes he'll make later on.

Alfred in Antarctica (21:30)

This cutscene skips forward a little, but it’s a nice final reminder that Steve does genuinely try his best to protect Claire, and succeeds! We see him take two stylish leaps and then shoot a quick few bullets to rescue her from Alfred. He’s still trying to emulate that knight image, but it’s more efficient than his Bandersnatch moment.

The Flight (and THAT SCENE)

After numerous troubles, Claire and Steve are finally able to escape the island. Needless to say, they’re elated and exhausted. Now that the coast is clear, Steve decides to get honest with Claire and apologize:

S: “Claire, I’m sorry. I know I caused a lot of trouble for you.” C: “No; it’s okay. It was hard for both of us.” S: “Well, I really hope you find your brother. I… I know what it’s like to be alone.” C: “Oh Steve…” S: *coughs awkwardly* “So, where should we go now? I can take you anywhere you want to go, Claire.” C: *laughs* “I hear Hawaii’s nice this time of year.” S: “You got it!” (14:20)

(On a personal note, isn’t this scene so cute? If only this was how it all ended…)

It’s here that Steve bares his heart to Claire. It’s clear that his mishaps and snarky remarks have been weighing on him too – he genuinely wants the best for her. When Claire is all too accepting and sympathetic, however, Steve begins to reveal his feelings (in… controversial ways).

After they find out that the plane is out of their control, the two of them take an uneasy rest. In the cutscene at 16:12, we find Claire leaning on Steve – a physical sign of how she relies on him. As if to follow his teenage impulses, Steve leans in for a kiss – only to startle as Claire begins to wake. His notion is thwarted immediately. Steve stands up,leans on the glass, slams the window and sighs.It shows signs of a “what was I thinking?” moment of clarity.

After all, kissing princesses in their sleep is something knights do in fairy tales. And Steve? Well, he’s no knight. He’s someone who’s almost hindered Claire’s escape as much as he’s helped, and he knows that. This thought is only exacerbated with his actions upon their arrival in Antarctica.

Antarctica, where more mistakes ensue

The plane decides to violently crashes into the side of the Umbrella Antarctica base. Steve kicks the door down and jumps first, reaching his arms out to catch Claire. She lands after, only to stumble and leave them both on the ground. Steve pulls her into a hug, which Claire doesn’t quite reciprocate. As she stands up, Steve lays back flat on the floor, sighing. It’s clear he’s jumped the gun, and it leaves him embarrassed. He doesn’t take Claire’s hand back up and tells her that they should split up to try and find a way out (18:55).

Steve’s love causes another mistake shortly after. The two of them try to break through the base wall with a digging vehicle, only for Steve to get distracted by Claire midway through. This causes a toxic gas pipe to burst – interestingly Steve tries to correct it through the controls – perhaps a reflection of his desires and fantasies for an “undo”. But in reality, he can’t undo his mistakes, and Claire is forced to grab him and leave the area.

This last mistake hits Steve particularly hard:

S: “It’s all my fault…” C: “Don’t say that. Listen to me – we’ll escape from here, together.” C: “Come on, we’ve got to shut off the gas. If we split up, we’ll have a better chance of stopping it.” S: *sighs* “…Okay.” C: “Steve. Don’t forget. We’ll get out of here. Together.” (20:45)

It’s not as if Steve is blind to his own faults – he knows that he’s been the one hindering their escape and takes it particularly hard. Claire has to reassure him multiple times that they’re working as a team to get out of here.

As a further blow to his ego, Steve is completely useless when the two exit the base and encounter Nosferatu, previous Alexander Ashford. Claire notices Nosferatu first, but Steve forces himself ahead of her soon after. He’s still clinging to the need to protect her.

However, Nosferatu easily knocks him off the platform, leaving him clinging to the side. Steve’s at his lowest here, and urges Claire to just leave him behind. If he can’t protect her, then what use is he?”

C: “Hold on, I’ll waste that monster and come back.” S: “Claire, forget about me. Run!” (23:50)

Claire’s resourcefulness and skill allow her to defeat Nosferatu and come back to Steve, still weakly hanging on. She pulls him back up, and Steve is left apologizing again for his rash behavior:

S: “I’m sorry. I failed you.” C: “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go.” *she leaves* S: “I swear I’ll protect you next time, Claire.” (25:15)

At this point, Steve’s all too aware of how his mistakes have left both of them in peril. It’s something that he deeply dislikes – as someone who wants to be dependable, he’s being a poor show of it. Claire’s been the one helping him out through most of this, both emotionally and physically. And so he makes himself a promise that next time, he’ll repay the favor.

It’s with this personal promise that the two climb aboard a snowmobile, hoping that they can make it to the Australia base. Unfortunately, this escape is a dead-end for them as well.

Sleep, weary knight

After Alexia awakens and destroys the snowmobile, Claire is rescued by Chris, who managed to find a way to Antarctica. She’s insistent that they must rescue Steve. She finds him cuffed to a chair in a long hallway, with an axe against his throat.

To Claire’s dismay, it seems she’s too late. Alexia has injected Steve with the t-Veronica virus. Steve’s last words before his transformation are a desperate plea for help. At this point, he’s actively asking for help from the one he loves, but fate has it that Claire is powerless. He begs Claire to save him, but she can only watch in despair as he morphs and chases after her.

In what seems to be a miracle of love, Steve manages to snap out of it just before he lands the killing blow. He instead slashes through Alexia’s entrapping vines, sparking her ire and a fatal blow to his chest. He dies in Claire’s arms, once again in human form, lamenting how he couldn’t protect her – how he couldn’t be her knight:

C: “Oh Steve…” S: *brings Claire’s hand to his cheek* “You’re… warm…” C: “Steve, you’ve got to hang in there, okay? My brother’s come to save us. We’re getting out of here!” S: “Your brother kept his promise. I’m sorry I cannot…” C: “What? What are you saying?” S: “I’m glad that I met you… I…. I love you… Claire…” C: “Steve? Steve?! Steve!” (34:15)

To players who dislike Steve, this may be a cheesy ending to a tedious character. And yet – we see Steve’s character arc complete fully in this final scene. No longer is he a volatile teenager, or a “cool” hero, or a self-perceived deadweight. He’s just Steve – utterly human Steve, who couldn’t keep his promise, and yet saved Claire in his own way. And it’s in these final, human, moments that he can confess his true feelings – only for everything – his façades, his love, everything – to all vanish.

The arm theory

As a somewhat lighter ending to this post, I’d like to discuss a little theory of mine.

People who have been following along with all the cutscenes might have noticed Steve’s right arm getting injured during the fight with Alfred. There’s no visual effect on his model, and Steve even claims, “I’m fine; it’s just a scratch” (11:30). And yet I’m convinced that it was quite a serious wound.

Note that he continues clinging to the platform in the Nosferatu battle with his left hand (24:40), not his right. Yet he keeps clutching his right arm in the cutscene after (25:44). And more importantly, Claire is the one driving the snowmobile during their escape attempt, after Steve had taken the wheel so many times prior (25:59). My theory is that the deterioration of his right arm is also why the arm is significantly skinnier upon his final transformation. If you look super closely at the bottom of the screen, you can actually see his right hand convulse as he mutates! Does this imply anything? Not really. But it would be cool to see this brought back somehow in a hypothetical remake, especially as Darkside Chronicles skipped these parts entirely. Kind of reminds me of another Resident Evil character who had arm injuries…

Anyway, if anyone made it this far, thank you! I hope this was a little insight into why I appreciate Steve so much as a character – and maybe in my wildest dreams, made you potentially enjoy him too.

[justkending]

Finding Memories. Chapter 2.

Series Summary: Waking up with little to no memory of her past, and being saved by a group of individuals who call themselves heroes, sends a long time captive for a whirlwind trying to find some form of grounding in this world she quickly learns runs on chaos. But she’s not the only one trying to figure out her forgotten backstory. Bucky Barnes, along with the other Avengers, can’t help but sense that there is a lot more to the whole situation than a diagnosis of amnesia. Her background slowly starts to come forward in pieces of her past and hidden information discovered. Who is she? And why was she in the room they were meant to destroy?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Word Count: 4000+

TW: Torture, cussing, and blood. 

A/N: First off, thank you for the love already given to this series. It’s been a fun one to write and I’m impatiently waiting for you guys to get to the juicer chapters. This one is a great start to understanding the relationships ot come and how our main character is going to behave to her new surroundings. I hope you enjoy and can’t wait to hear what all you think and got from it! xoxoxo

Chapter 2:

The next morning, Bucky was hesitant to knock on her door. He didn't want to overstep the one space that she had to herself.

Though it wasn't like he was barging in, yet again, he knew what it meant to have a place of peace and how easily it can lose its sense of amity the more traffic it received.

So he waited. He waited in the lounge area, then he waited in the kitchen, then he waited in the den/ library. Then he waited back in the kitchen again.

He checked his watch and saw it was 7 in the morning. He had already been up for two hours and had done nothing useful besides reading up on the reports Nat gave him over and over again with no change in information.

They would just have to wait until someone was able to decode more of the encrypted drive they had taken.

"I'll be ok. I've had worse."

Bucky turned at the voice he was becoming more familiar with.

"Are you sure? We can go back to the med bay and have them take a look. It looks like it's bruised up pretty nice," another voice came from the hallway he was eavesdropping on.

"It's fresh," she replied shyly, not caring for the attention. It's a lot different from the attention she was used to and a change of intention can be hard to adjust to. "In a few hours, you won't even be able to see it."

They finally came from around the corner and Bucky stood up from his chair, closing the book he had zoned out of multiple times.

"Hey, Barnes," Nat smiled with Y/N by her side. "How long have you been up?"

"A couple of hours. Was doing some research," he replied absentmindedly. His eyes immediately searched for the bruising he heard them talking about. It was hard to miss even when she was actively trying to keep him from seeing it as she looked anywhere in the room but at him. "What happened?" he asked anyway as he was shocked by the black eye she now had.

She looked at Nat and then at him.

"I had a nightmare. Fell off and hit my head on the nightstand," she replied sheepishly.

In truth, she was used to being tied down to a table when she had nightmares, so silk sheets and a bed with no restraints made it easy for her to find herself on the floor the next morning and a black eye for proof of her night terrors.

He looked at the damage as best he could as she tried to cover it with her hair and not bring attention to it.

Before he could make any other comment on it, she excused herself to the kitchen.

"She doesn't like attention, I can tell you that much," Nat whispered as they watched her carefully move around the modern kitchen. Not sure where to start as she had only been there one other time and Bucky was the chef. "Maybe just don't mention it or try to make her feel better about it. She's pretty adamant on not discussing how she got it."

"She doesn't need to say anything. I can imagine what she saw last night," Bucky replied with a deep sigh. "Now let's see what she thinks of on-the-go food."

"What are you doing with her, Barnes? She's barely accustomed to this palace, you better not be taking her to an overpopulated place. She's already on edge about the fact she knows nothing about herself," Nat gave him a raised eyebrow.

"What kind of person do you take me for?" he rolled his eyes. "Obviously I'm not going to put her in a high-stress situation, one day after waking up from a two-day sleep and everything else she went through before."

"I know," Nat chuckled, patting his back. "I'm just making sure." They paused to watch her as she went about the kitchen inspecting appliances and items. "She seems like she'll make it out the other side of the tunnel though," Nat whispered. "She's got some spunk in her, I can tell. We just got to fish it out."

"That's the goal," Bucky took a deep breath crossing his arms.

She was fidgeting with the coffee machine and trying to decipher if the hot brown liquid inside was something she liked before. She had liked the smell, but there were no memories attached to the sense.

"I'm going to take her on a walk of the compound so she can get familiar with it. The more you know about your environment and escape routes with a backstory like hers, it'll hopefully help her tear back some of those walls she's put up."

"Good plan. You may want to help her find a mug though if you want her awake on that walk. I have a feeling she didn't get much rest last night," Nat sighed before moving on to her mission of the day. "I'm going to help Tony maneuver through some of those files we got."

"How's that going?" he asked before she could walk off.

"About as well as your reading this morning did." Her smirk showed that she caught onto his mindless wandering and tricks to look busy as he waited for the new guest to come out this morning. "However, I think it's best to look up some names as well. We can't keep calling her Jane Doe/ that girl we rescued from a terrorist infiltration. Not very fitting for her either way."

"Yeah, I'll make that a goal for today," he nodded. "Keep me updated?"

She was walking away when he shouted his last comment to her.

"Always do," she waved, never looking back.

Bucky took another breath before moving on to his next riddle of the day.

"Need any help?" he asked as she poured some of the coffee into a mug that she had found.

"I'm not sure if I like this stuff," she said back, very focused on making sure she didn't spill any of the coffee. "But it smells really nice," she tilted her head down as she took another sniff.

"You don't think you've had coffee before?" he questioned, grabbing his own mug and refilling it.

"Not that I can remember. I know it's called coffee and I know it helps you stay awake, but that's all I know about it," she shrugged, about to take a swig of it.

Bucky watched as she hesitantly brought the warm drink to her lips. She took a small sip and her face scrunched up at the potency.

"Yeah, you may be better off with some cream and sugar. I make it a little stronger," he noted, looking at the nearly empty pot. "I can make another batch if you want," he offered.

But she waved him off, placing the mug down and going to the fridge for the creamer he had mentioned. She was at least knowledgeable about where the creamer would be. So perhaps she had done normal things in her past.

A human lab experiment wasn't one to know where household items are generally kept. At least the ones that have never seen a light outside fluorescent bulbs hovering over them. It was a small new detail about her, but a detail either way.

"Do you want sugar?" he asked, grabbing a few packets.

She nodded, taking the packets and thanking him before stirring them all together. With a quick look at him, she silently communicated with him a "here it goes," look before taking a new sip.

Her face didn't scrunch this time and instead, she had a look of realization.

"Do you guys have any..." She was trying to find the word. One she was sure she hadn't used in a long time if it was taking this long to come to her. "It's a spice," she said, hoping he would pick up on it.

"Spice? Sweet or savory?" he asked, going to the cupboard to search for something that would blend well with coffee.

"That one," she pointed out.

He turned and followed her finger seeing she was talking about the cinnamon.

"Oh, cinnamon?" he asked, pulling down the small jar and handing it to her.

She took it and examined the label. She turned it around in her hand a few times and carefully opened the lid.

"Is this sweet?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I guess you can call it that. It does go well with coffee though. The Parker kid has talked about it before," he said more to himself.

"Parker kid?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah. He's a member of the team," he answered. "He's pretty young and has school most of the time, but when he isn't there, he's here annoying us."

It was true. Peter Parker was the second little brother Bucky didn't plan on gaining in his life. Though he made himself useful when Bucky needed a pop culture explanation. Especially when Tony would drop them casually in conversation just to annoy Bucky.

"School? You have a kid on your team that's still in school?" She was slightly concerned.

"Don't worry, he's a smart kid," Bucky leaned against the counter. "He'll be studying for his college classes and hunting down a criminal during his snack time."

"They have snack time in college?" she tilted her head genuinely curious.

"He may be a teenager, but compared to me, he's a toddler. Plus, he gets hangry when he doesn't get his 1:30 snack."

"For someone who seems annoyed by the kid, you're awfully in tune with his schedule," she smiled up at him.

Bucky couldn't help but return it. This was the longest they had talked and he was learning she was quite observant.

"He's the little brother I didn't want, but I can't help but look out for the kid," Bucky shrugged, adding a sugar packet to his black drink before indulging in it.

"Sounds like a recurring action of yours," she said slyly as she took a sip with the cinnamon now in the drink.

Bucky took note of that spark of spunk Nat had mentioned and couldn't help but grin that it was coming out so soon.

He watched her reaction after she took a few more sips and her eyebrows lifted.

"I think I like cinnamon," she realized with a small sense of pride in her comment.

"Add it to the list," he grinned. "How do you feel about walks?" he asked next.

"Walks?" she asked, confused at the action. "Like just walking around?"

"Uh-huh," he answered, taking the last bit of the coffee in the pot and transferring it to a travel mug. "We can take that to go, or we can wait until you're finished."

"I'll take it to go," she nodded, holding it delicately in her hand.

"Ok, let's get you set up and we'll head out."

_________________

They grabbed a jacket from the closet in her room, even though it was bigger on her, she rolled up the sleeves and was comfortable in the brisk fall air.

Bucky started her off in the immediate meeting area. Showing her where the den and library were, where the living room and movie room were, and anywhere else she would have access to in the living space.

She was quiet for most of the tour and was taking in the mass amount of resources and activities they had at their fingertips. All she knew when it came to free time was being put to sleep and thrown into another room before more procedures were done to her... At least that's all she remembered so far.

On their way outside, he motioned to where the training room and gym were. A place she could go to if she needed to find anyone for help. There was a decent chance that there was at least one person who could help her there at any time.

Once outside, they took the scenic route around the compound. Keeping their distance from the hustle and bustle of agents and aircrafts taking off and leaving for missions.

"So there are more people that work here than just your avenging group?" she asked, hands in her jacket pockets as she tugged it closer to her body.

The way she worded the group's name made him laugh.

"We're a whole organization. Tony Stark, who's the one who pays for all this and the one who had your room all set up, is also one of the Avengers," he explained. "Steve, who you know as the man with the shield, is also known as Captain America. Well at least that's his superhero name and rank, but he's just as much of a dork as the Peter kid sometimes."

"And the Peter kid is the spider boy, right?" she asked

"Yes, Spiderboy. Hmm mm," he hummed, not correcting her as he had described him as that, to begin with.

"Nat seems really nice too. She also has superpowers?"

"Nat is enhanced, but she doesn't go as far as to classify herself as a superhero personally. She was a very well-known spy for a long time before joining this life."

"What about you?" she turned to him.

"Me?" he repeated.

"Yeah, do you have any powers?" She looked at the trees around her as she asked. Taking in as much of the greenery as possible.

"Steve and I's enhancements are pretty similar. Why and how we got them couldn't be more opposite, but I guess you could say I have powers..." he shrugged, looking over at her before following her eye line.

A few seconds of silence went on before she turned to him with a look of confusion on her face.

Though she had noticed the metal arm all the way back to when they first met, she had never stared or mentioned it like others were quick to. Never questioned or hinted at wanting to know what the backstory to it was, but something in her gut told her his answer to her last question has some sort of association with the arm.

Again, she didn't push. She just continued to walk as she processed everything in her own time. Bucky was really just there to answer questions and guide her around. He was intrigued by her story just as much as everyone else that was on that mission, but like them, he was waiting for answers to arise.

"Hey," he spoke up after a few minutes of silence passed. "I know I told you I'd let you sleep on it some more, but any chance a name has come to you."

She took his question and processed it for a second.

"Not really," she replied. "I heard some things that-," she paused, not sure what to call her captors. The memory of them was not one she was interested in looking back on, no matter how helpful it would be in the long run. "They called me..." she finished. "But never a real name."

He knew what she meant. Being used as a lab rat meant that a name that holds emotional ties and connections to an individual was not common in this situation. She was likely given a code name, or a number, or called slurs the majority of the time.

"Well, consider it another thing you get to choose," he continued in a way to make the conversation less upsetting. "Is there anything you would want to be called?"

She thought about it as they rounded the nature trail they were on. But eventually, she shook her head.

"I guess that's a pretty big decision." He placed his hands in his front pocket as they made their way slowly back to the living space. "I have an idea," he reached into his back pocket and fished out his phone. "I'll pull up a list of names and you can see if any of them sound fitting for you. And if not today, maybe you can do some research of your own and find something you like."

"Ok," she nodded, taking his phone that he had quickly searched up girl names on. She scrolled for a bit but didn't seem intrigued by any of the names she had found. After a few mumbles, as she read to herself the options, she stopped. "Wait, this one," she pointed, lifting the phone for him to see.

"Y/N?" he asked, testing the name himself. "You like that one?"

"I think so, but..." she paused and closed her eyes. "Something seems familiar about it."

"You have a connection to it?"

She again tried to think back on it. Her nose scrunched up as she closed her eyes trying really hard to remember why it was clicking somewhere. Something he had noticed she did anytime she thought hard about something.

"I'm not sure," she eventually sighed. "But I like it. Do I seem like a Y/N?"

"I don't see why not," he smiled. "I like it."

She smiled back, though he could tell it was slightly forced in an attempt to cover the frustration on why the name sparked something in her mind, yet she couldn't place why.

"Y/N it is," she said.

_________________

"I'm telling you, it's the only answer to what you're asking me," a voice echoed through the hall as Y/N and Bucky made their way back for lunch after a long and eventful walk around the compound.

"I'm not saying it's the wrong answer... I'm just saying it's-"

"It's an answer," a third voice was heard, with a hint of uncertainty.

"Wanda! Don't side with her."

"What's happening in here?" Bucky asked, turning the corner and putting a face to all the voices he had heard.

Sam was on one side of the counter, sitting on a bar stool. Natasha was in the fridge grabbing a cooled bottle of wine, and Wanda was in the middle of cooking what smelled like a nice roast or soup.

"Oh, hey!" Nat smiled, seeing that their new guest was somewhat hiding behind Bucky at the new people. "You guys are just in time for our lunch date," she smiled kindly to the woman before turning her attention to Bucky. "How was your walk?"

Bucky smiled, walking into the room slowly, checking behind him to see how close Y/N was following him. Not to his surprise, she was at least a foot away to give him some form of space, but close enough to feel like she had an anchor around the new crowd.

"It went well. We stayed on the hiking trail most of the time, but she should have an idea of the place a little better now," he answered. "What do you have going, Wanda?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sam stood up from his chair. "You're just going to act like there isn't a guest here? Where are your 1940's era manners?"

No one noticed, but her eyebrows knitted together in curiosity at the specifics of his question.

"Cool your jets," Bucky was quick to block her from him as he knew she was already skittish with everything going on, let alone new people. "She's who I mentioned was going to be staying with us for a little bit until we get some things figured out."

"Right," Sam remembered. "Sorry, I just got back from a long mission. I forgot all that happened while I was gone. And I've only been informed about pieces of what happened." He walked over to where Y/N was next to Bucky, but still behind him in shelter. "Sorry for my manners," he emphasized. "And his too, but I can only take credit for my own actions."

That got a small snicker out of her. Sam was good like that.

"Shut up," Bucky rolled his eyes.

"You first," Sam responded instinctively, before ignoring him and looking at her with a kind smile. "I'm Sam. Sam Wilson. I don't believe I've caught your name yet, sweetheart."

She could feel a sense of trust toward this person. The same she was slowly realizing she could easily give with this group of people she was gradually being introduced to.

"My name's Y/N," she replied softly. "It's nice to meet you, Sam."

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well," he grinned, before turning to the side and motioning to the empty bar stools in front of the chef herself. "Want to watch Wanda work her magic on the stove? She's got a gift for comfort meals on cold and dreary days like today."

She looked to Bucky once again, looking for something to tell her the coast was clear. He nodded his head once showing he'd be right behind her.

After the three sat in front of where the auburn-haired woman was adding the last bits of spices to the pot, Natasha walked up next to Wanda handing her a glass of wine.

"So, Y/N," she stretched out the name, sending a smirk showing she was happy to have a name to connect to her. "Bucky's not giving you any trouble, is he? Cause I can set him straight if need be."

Bucky once again rolled his eyes at the teasing from his teammates.

"Nat, aren't you supposed to be in a meeting with Stark right now?" He attempted to divert the conversation.

"Nothing that can't be sent in an email. He'll be fine," she waved him off. "Find anything interesting out there?" she asked, only looking at Y/N.

"Um," she started but wasn't sure what to follow with it. "It's a nice place."

"We have a billionaire to thank for that," Wanda winked, sipping her wine before introducing herself. "I'm Wanda. It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N."

"Wanda?" she echoed. "Wanda Maximoff, right?"

Eyes widened at her comment in surprise, except for Buckys. It didn't take a lot to realize she was very good at picking up and remembering things given the space and motivation to do so.

"That's me," she smiled. "Bucky's been helpful enough to fill you in on the team's roster I assume?"

"I have a lot of questions that need to be answered, but I'm learning I don't necessarily know the type of questions to ask," she replied, hands in her lap and body language showing she was still shy and reserved. "But Bucky has helped make me feel like I have some kind of grasp on this place and the people in it."

The group looked at him, in what you could say was a surprised way, but as much hell as they gave him for being the quieter one of the group, he always had a heart for those who needed it.

"We're glad you're here with us," Wanda spoke up with a comforting smile. "You're with the right group and person," she looked at Bucky, "to figure out who you are. Now, I'm guessing you're hungry after that walk. How do you feel about a pot roast?"

____________

By the time lunch was over, Bucky noticed that Y/N's black eye had slight discoloration, but for the most part, was healed.

She did well with the small group of friends, though it was likely the most interaction she had had in a while on a friendly basis. With each passing hour, he could see her relax little by little as her new environment was proving itself consistently safe.

Nat laughed at how Sam was quickly already trying to spread his music taste to the new member and took a bite of the scrapes of bread left in the basket in the center of them all.

Her phone vibrated on the table and her smile dissipated just enough for a trained eye to see. Bucky happened to have that trained eye and noticed once she looked at him after receiving the message.

She excused herself and gave him a look that showed where his thoughts had gone were correct.

 They had an update.

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[afrenchaugurey]

So… I’m not even sure I’ll have something to share, worthing to publish the whole NewTina AU story on AO3 one day. But I had a lot of fun to write the mentor/mentee relationship between Albus and Newt.

Modern AU, non magical

Newt is Albus’ employee, both are vets in Scotland. 

As usual, it's a very raw translation from French, and unedited. Sorry

“First stop, Mitchell family ?” asked Albus, breaking the silence that had settled between them, while the inside of the car was soothed by the muffled sound of a radiophonic diffusion of a musical piece played by a symphony orchestra.

“Humhum” approved Newt, before resuming. “One of his horses is limping”.

“So… imagine, you have to deal with the case. What do you think, Doctor ?”

Newt took some time to consider it . If he loved horses, and was experimented in their care, he had never really practiced equine medicine, and it impacted his self-confidence. “Hum… I don’t know ?”

“Try anyway. No judgment here.”

“Hum… it would depend on how he’s limping, I suppose ?”

“Indeed. What would you do ?”

“I would look at him as he walks, and trots. In order to determine what leg it is, and the level on the leg. I would search for some swelling, abnormal heat, some pain at the palpation, maybe a foreign body, or some parasites or others pathogens responsible of things like mud fever, some whole body conditions that can result in lameness like piroplasmosis even if this area and with this cold it’s unlikely…”

“Good. Aren’t you forgetting something ?”

Silence fell inside the vehicle, the music still as a background noise, accompanied by the whirring of the engine and the squeaking of the windscreen wipers that made the young man periodically wince. This bloody creaking cut off the thread of his thoughts, of the movie of all the consultations on the subject he had witnessed before, and that he now tried to play again in his head. He secretly hoped that Albus would finally give him the answer, as his focus was disturbed, which was, of course, worse during the consultations when the animals’ guardians couldn’t help but speak to him non stop. Instead of a relieving answer, Albus stopped the radio and the windscreen wipers, waiting for the fruit of his mentee’s reflection. The film of the passed consultations restarted inside Newt’s mind almost in the instant.

“Take the hoof, check the frog, test for some abscesses with the pliers …?” he finally answered, uncertain.

“You see ! You are completely able to do a horse lameness consult !”

“But if it’s muscular, or tendinous, or …”

“If you don’t know, you can send the case to someone else. This isn’t a shame to refer the cases that are too complicated for you. Especially in equine medicine, that you practice only when you are on call. But you know and master a great deal more than you want to think. Try to remember that young padawan. You’ll always need to learn new things, of course, that’s life and the core of our job. But your value is a lot greater than you believe. You have to acknowledge that, Newt.”

A smile creaked on Newt’s face, against his own will. He enjoyed these one to one discussions and exchanges, when he learnt so much. Albus kept going with the differential diagnoses, making him contribute as much as possible to the reflexion process. From time to time, Newt took some notes on his phone, sure that he wouldn’t be able to memorize so much auditive information, these precious pieces of knowledge that would probably be vital for him in the future. 

[awlfan]

Better Knowing the Valley- Daryl

It had been a little over a week since Melody had visited the eccentric scientist. While he didn’t come off as overly warm or friendly, the farmer still found herself curious about the man. She wanted to visit him again sooner, but she didn’t want to return to him empty handed. She had told him she would bring him something proper to eat once her kitchen was properly stocked. Well, her kitchen was properly stocked now and she’d prepared an actual meal. As she arrived at Daryl’s lab, she recalled how hard it was to get his attention last time and made sure to knock loudly this time around. The scientist started at the sudden sound, displeased to have his sense of flow interrupted. “What is it?!” the scientist sneered as he opened the door, but upon realizing the visitor was the one who’d fed him previously, his expression softened a bit. “Oh. It’s you.” “Melody,” the farmer reminded with a nod. “I told you I would cook you something better once my kitchen was in order.” Melody smiled as she handed him a plastic container. Daryl raised a brow and took the container, noting it was quite warm to the touch. She must have made it fresh for him.

“What is it?” he asked, gripping the lid and preparing to open it. “They’re chicken and vegetable stuffed dumplings,” she chirped. “I hope you’ll like them.” “That sounds… very favorable.” Daryl informed before he opened the lid to look inside. “They look well made. I’ll accept it.” “I’m glad. So, do you have any new experiments you want to talk about?” “…” Daryl was quite surprised she’d asked him this. After her abrupt departure previously, he’d assumed she had lost interest. “I do… Would you like to listen?” “Oo, yes, please!” Melody nodded. “Well… come inside and we shall discuss it.” The scientist opened the door wider and stepped aside to allow the other to enter. “Thank you,” Melody smiled and stepped inside. “Do not touch anything,” Daryl was quick to demand. “I won’t,” Melody assured, holding her hands behind her back. “Good,” Daryl replied, feeling more at ease to see that Melody wouldn’t be touching anything. “So, what have you been working on?” Melody asked. “I’ve been studying lightning. I am hoping to detect and attract lightning strikes whilst storing and utilizing the energy it generates,” he informed as he grabbed a fork and sat down at his little dining table. “This smells quite good.” Melody grinned. “I hope it tastes as good as it smells to you. I liked them, but I don’t know your preferences.” Daryl said nothing, instead cutting off a piece of dumpling with his fork. Placing it in his mouth, he let out a pleased hum. “Tastes as good as it smells, huh?” Melody asked with the slightest of smirks. “It does. It seems you are a competent cook.” “Thanks… If you’d rather eat first, I can come back later?” “No,” the scientist responded as he took another bite. “I can eat and discuss my work at the same time.” “Fair enough,” Melody replied with a shrug. It seemed he did indeed enjoy having someone to listen to him. Daryl was quick to begin his scientific rambling, taking bites of his meal and occasionally speaking with his mouth full. Even with his talking in between, it did not take him long to finish his meal. ‘He must really have liked it,’ Melody thought to herself as Daryl continued to discuss his findings. While Melody usually listened quietly, upon his discussion of storm clouds, she decided to chime in. “Those are… Cumulonimbus clouds, right?” Daryl blinked, a bit surprised, and nodded. “Yes. How did you know?” “Oh,” Melody chuckled weakly. “It’s kind of a dumb story…” “Learning is never dumb,” Daryl assured.

“Well…” Melody paused, wondering if she should really tell this story. “Back when I was a kid, like a little kid, I used to think those big cooling towers were cloud factories. You know, since they billowed those big big puffs of white water vapor into the sky. Anyway, I asked my dad how those cloud factories could fill the entire sky when there weren’t very many of them. It wasn’t long after that Dad took me to the library and checked out a book on clouds for me to read… I loved that book and made Dad check it out again over and over… So I kind of have that information embedded in the back of my head.” Daryl, despite himself, had begun to chuckle. “Cloud factories?” “Hey,” Melody huffed, “I said I was just a little kid at the time!” Unable to help himself. Daryl couldn’t stop chuckling. He hadn’t intended to do so and there was no malice behind it, but he was genuinely amused. Melody had since gone a bit red in the face, feeling both embarrassed and a little frustrated. “And I suppose you’ve always been smart?” she asked as she folded her arms across her chest. “I can’t say I was,” Daryl admitted. “I did learn quickly for my age range from the beginning, but I did hit a plateau of sorts in high school. The… stresses of the environment inhibited my ability to learn as quickly.” “Oog, high school,” Melody rubbed her temple. “You mean hell on earth?” “I take it you weren’t fond of it either.” “Not one bit,” she sighed. “Autism and high school was simply not a good combination.” “What do you mean?” Daryl asked, a bit confused. “I’m autistic, so socialization has never been my strong suit. Students bullied me, teachers didn’t understand me, and so many people in one place was just overwhelming for me.” “Oh… That is not unlike my own experiences.” Daryl frowned. “I know of autism, but I’ve never particularly studied it and I haven’t met another person with the condition before.” “Are you sure?” Melody asked. Daryl looked at her with a raised brow. “I mean… It’s not always obvious when someone has autism. They don’t always announce it and it can go undiagnosed quite often, especially with girls. Also, some people are good at masking their symptoms just to get by in an unaccepting world.” “I see.” “Hey,” Melody began tentatively, “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you show symptoms of autism yourself.” Though he had been told not to, Daryl found himself somewhat offended. He remembered the uproar his mother once had at the notion when an old teacher had suggested it and didn’t want to be part of something so apparently negative.

“What do you mean?” he asked with a slight sneer. While Melody did wilt at his expression, she continued. “Well, for one thing, when you talk about your experiments and theories, you become so excited and chatty. You go into a great deal of detail about every aspect and you just remind me of me when someone asks about one of my special interests. You also seem to speak a little differently than most. You seem quite blunt and straight to the point when you talk. There is no beating around the bush or sugar coating for you.” “Of course I get to the point,” Daryl scoffed. “What is the point of prolonging my statements with unnecessary filler?” “I know!” Melody exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s so dumb that people expect you to draw out what you say all the time! We’re talking, not writing poetry! Get to the point!” Daryl simply stared for a moment, taken aback to see another person relate to him in such a way. “...You said you yourself have autism?” he asked. “Yes,” she nodded. “I was diagnosed pretty early on.” “And I share traits with you?” he continued. “You do,” she smiled softly. Daryl slowly nodded to himself. “I may have to investigate this farther.” “I’d actually encourage that,” Melody chirped. “I have some books about autism if you’d like to borrow them. I’ve already read them multiple times, so you can keep them as long as you need. Even if you don’t have autism yourself, you might be able to relate to our experiences and, if not, it’s just nice to learn new things. I bet someone like you can really appreciate that.” “I do,” the scientist agreed. “Do you recommend I read the books in any particular order?” “I think you can read them in any order, but I think covering the very basics first would be the wisest choice,” she nodded. “Oh,” Melody continued, “Thanks for actually taking this into consideration.. There are people who act like autism is the worst condition someone can be afflicted with and that it is the worst of insults.” Daryl averted his gaze, having felt similarly moments before, but kept this thought to himself. “If you have autism, it surely can not be bad warranted to use as an insult.” “Oh, gosh,” Melody began to lightly blush. “Plenty of people think I’m no good.” “They sound very illogical. You have only proven to be pleasant company for me thus far.”

“Aww, thank you,” she looked away sheepishly, going a deeper red. “I enjoy being around you too.” The scientist seemed to freeze. “...What?” “I-I just meant I enjoy your company. You’re fascinating to listen to and you’ve been nice enough to talk to me.” “Oh,” Daryl pushed his glasses upwards into his face. “That is-” He paused upon realizing he could not think of a thing to say. How strange for him… “Are you alright?” Melody broke the silence. “I’m fine,” Daryl responded swiftly, pushing his glasses up once more. “Just making sure,” the farmer explained. “You seemed a little flustered and I was worried I’d embarrassed you.” The scientist bristled at this comment, going red in the face as he glared daggers at the woman. “I am a logical man. I do not fluster.” He was… clearly flustered… but Melody thought it best not to confront him on it. “Of course not.” Wanting to alleviate the tension in the air, she thought on a subject change. “Do you have a favorite food?” As soon as the words left her mouth, Melody slapped herself on the forehead. ‘What a generic thing to ask,’ she thought to herself. Daryl, meanwhile, thought nothing of her question and answered her simply. “Yes. I have a fondness for fish. I enjoy it in many dishes, but have a particular fondness for sushi and tempura.” “Oh, those sound goooood.” Melody grinned. “Fish is such a good protein to work with! I like it too. I try to eat pretty healthy, but I do have a soft spot for sweets.” “I enjoy dark chocolate on occasion. Sometimes coating fruit.” “I prefer milk and white chocolate myself because they’re so much sweeter. It’s good you like dark chocolate though. It’s better for you. High in antioxidants and all that.”

“Precisely,” Daryl nodded. “Though I do like less healthy sweets as well.” “Like what?” Melody asked. “Baked goods and hard candies. Hard candy is particularly preferable as they last longer and therefor reduce the amount of sugar you ingest and price paid.” “What’s your favorite candy flavor?” “I prefer grape, but cherry is a close second.” “I love blue raspberry, but green apple is good too.” Melody paused. “I like green apples in general… Most apples, really. I actually have a few saplings on the farm.” “They should grow quickly,” Daryl informed. “There is something about Forgotten Valley that allows crops to grow quite rapidly when compared to other areas.” “Takakura told me about that. I wonder why that is.” “It is rumored there are magical creatures in the valley, but I am certain there is a scientific explanation behind it.” “Haaaa… Yeah. It’s definitely scientific,” Melody replied, neglecting to mention she’d actually met the Nature Sprites of Forgotten Valley. “Most things are,” Daryl added. “That’s why science is such an important subject.” Melody simply nodded before a long silence befell them. “...I’m not sure where to go with this conversation,” she remarked, finally breaking the silence. “I don’t either,” Daryl admitted. “Maybe we should call it a day here.” Melody suggested with a nervous chuckle. “See you again another time?” “I would not mind that.” Melody offered one last smile before making her way to the door. “Bye, Daryl! Thanks for spending time with me today!” The scientist simply nodded in goodbye, wondering why he’d found her company so pleasant today. Curious.

[violettelueur]

ITADORI YUJI + FUSHIGURO MEGUMI + KUGISAKI NOBARA || YOUR FRIENDSHIPS WITH THEM

| featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors, but other than that n/a

| form : headcanons

| published : 19 november 

| request : hey hey! i really like your blog's aesthetics and especially your writing! can i order some friendship moments (or an incident, anything!) between first year reader and the main trio?

| barista’s note : hi hi! barista violettelueur is alive and well ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／sorry i haven’t been as active today i was completeing my chemistry mock exam and completing a few study session that i had set up for myself today ʕ – ᴥ – ʔ i’ll try my best to post some pieces today since i can’t leave you guys without your cups of coffee! other than that, i hope the person who requested this enjoys their cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request)

ITADORI YUJI (FEATURING SUKUNA A TINY BIT):

I can’t lie to you, there would probably be a lot of idiotic moments that you have together, that you most likely have to be the sensible one when it is needed.

You know when you hang out with someone, you become dumb like them. Yeah that’s you and Itadori without a single doubt in my mind - but you would still have some common sense lingering in your mind (hopefully)

The both of you will have a lot of movie nights together with the table filled with snacks and fizzy drinks to satisfy your palettes - you both probably plan to have a movie night every Friday.

You would also comment and have full-on discussions on your favourite parts once the movie has ended and probably debate on your favourite characters together.

Manga. You both would always recommend different mangas to each other and that’s the only time you and Itadori have ever allowed someone to borrow a manga book from you.

Yes, both of you would have a lot of trust in each other with your manga books.

And just like with movies, you and Itadori would have deep discussions about your favourite parts, favourite characters and once again have debates here and there.

Sukuna would definitely ask you how and why you are friends with a ‘brat’ like him. Every. Single. Day.

When you and Itadori are training together, expect him to ask a lot of questions during your training session.

Like just random ones on the whim from him wondering what’s he is gonna eat for dinner tonight to seriously asking you how you use your curse energy to do different techniques.

“Y/N what should I eat for tonight? Instant ramen or rice?”

To “How do you use your curse energy to strengthen your legs like that?”

This is also the best time he and you would learn how to fight and cooperate with each other - leading to you and Itadori to drag Gojo-sensei into these sessions from time to time.

There would be times where you and him would fight each other to see what the both of you were lacking - you obviously were lacking in pure strength, like Itadori is just on a different level to that.

There would be times where you have to put him in his place, aka smacking his head or his face to make him wake up or break up his food arguments with Kugisaki.

Overall, expect a lot of chaotic moments with the boy as the mixture with you and him is just pure stupidity and funny moments - he makes you act stupid.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI:

You and Fushiguro are probably the most sensible out of the first years since Itadori and Kugisaki were already on the chaotic side - if you were not hanging out with Itadori alone.

If you arrived at the school at the same time as him, you would probably be the closest to him as there would always be a feeling of serenity around you.

However, if you can later/the same time around as Kugisaki and Itadori, he would still put his faith and trust in you knowing that both you and him would always have each other’s backs

You and Fushiguro can be in the same room together and not say a single word to each other for hours upon hours - that’s how comfortable you are with each other.

On the other hand, there are times when the both of you would have some deep conversations with each other, talking about anything from his family to your issues - wow you two really trust each other with this type of information.

By the way, his shikigami’s love you - well….expect the one if you know what I mean - as in his divine dogs would act like babies when they’re with you - always brushing up against your leg

Sometimes Fushiguro asks himself if they were really his shikigami’s at this point.

“Focus on the mission Y/N”

“Well I can’t if your dog keeps nudging my hand for me to pet it”

This kind of pointless to do training sessions with you since when he does summon his shikigami, they would just take one look at you and just come up to you for pets and cuddles - yes even the frogs.

So hand to hand combat it is then!

If Fushiguro feels like it’s okay to bring his guard down, he would rest his head on your shoulder to relax or calm himself down after a mission when Ijichi is driving you back to the school.

If both of you had an off day, you and him would most likely go to a nearby coffee shop/cafe (my cafe obviously) and just eat and talk about the most aimless things like Itadori’s love life or what you guys would be doing next after this little meal.

“Why don’t you think Itadori can get a girlfriend?”

“There are posters on his wall that no girl would really like their boyfriend having Y/N”

You and Fushiguro are basically the calm presences within the group, keeping the balance within the first years but to have him as a friend is something that shouldn’t be taken for granted.

KUGISAKI NOBARA:

You and Kugisaki are basically the definition of gossip girls.

Yes, you and Fushiguro do gossip here and there but you and Kugisaki do it to another level.

You and Kugisaki will talk about what you think Gojo-sensei’s type of s/o would be to Kugisaki’s dislike of Mai Zenin.

Expect for a shopping trip every week, from getting new clothes that will probably somehow not be worn until you find it 2 years later or just to admire Tokyo since Kugisaki is from the countryside.

Sometimes you drag both Itadori and Fushiguro to carry your bags or better create some outfits for them - just to spice up their wardrobe a bit.

The two of you would definitely go to every bakery you see, admiring the sweets and treats before sharing a slice of cake together - saving money is essential guys.

Bubble tea!

You both would get bubble tea every time you guys go out together - it’s a tradition at this point.

And you and Kugisaki won’t go to the same shop every time, you guys will explore to find new stores and try out their different flavours

If you and Kugisaki are feeling nice that day, you probably buy bubble tea in bulk and share it with the other guys, begging them to try your new favourite flavours.

“Fushiguro, Itadori, I promise this coffee bubble tea is better than the other one”

“Better than the other one you gave me just yesterday?”

“Aye don’t judge Y/N’s taste, I love it as well!”

When it comes to training sessions, girl….it’s a whole competition between the both of you

This sometimes scares the boys because it seems like none of you are giving up until you break the tie.

Spoiler alert: the tie has never been broken as you guys will be dead tired after the last fight leading to no one gaining a single point lead on your tally so far.

You and Kugisaki will have inside jokes with each other causing both of you to laugh out loud sometimes, scaring the boys once again as from their perspective it seems like you and her just randomly started laughing 

“You guys won’t understand” the both of you would say before continuing to laugh.

Overall, you and Kugisaki are two peas in a pod, both funny and competitive with each other as you and her have full respect for each other - yes Maki is both your role model.

[justmidnightthougts]

Unexpected// Kenma x reader

Pairing: Kozume Kenma x reader

Word count: 3014

Warning: fluff and angst

Summary: Kenma knew that life could be unexpected, he only wished that he was prepared for the ending...

a/n: It’s been a while since I wrote something, but this has been in my head for a while so here it is!

masterlist: here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

Unexpected.

That's the explanation Kenma had for everything that happened last year.

It was unexpected that he met you that one day.

**

It was a Monday morning; spring was coming to an end and summer was approaching. The temperatures started getting warmer and the sky clearer. School had started around two months ago, and students were already wishing for the end of the year to approach.

"Good morning class," Kenma's homeschool teacher said as she walked in, everyone went to their seats and settled down. Kenma was already seated, just as usual playing on his game console before the teacher had entered. He was tired since he decided to stay up late, as usual, a choice that he regrets every morning yet can't help making it every time. "Today," his teacher started, "we will have a new student joining us. Please treat them well." As if on cue, the door opened, showing the new student, you.

Kenma looked up and watched as you went to the front, standing in front of the class and bowing your head, speaking: "Hello, my name is Y/N L/N, nice to meet you. Please treat me well," you ended with a smile on your face. The face that Kenma had been observing since the moment you walked in, concluded you weren't nervous, but excited. "Thank you, Y/N, you can sit down next to Kenma. Kenma, please put your hand in the air, so they know who you are," the teacher said with a smile, yet a tone that wouldn't appreciate disapproval.

He sighed, raising his hand slowly in the air while he looked down at his desk. He hated being in the center of attention, so doing this was out of his comfort zone. Furthermore, he kept looking down, hearing those footsteps nearing his desk. Kenma lowered his hands, praying to God that you won't start talking to him. Glancing towards the side, he watched as you pulled your chair back and sat down, placing your bag next to your desk before taking your supplies out, staying silent the whole time. He let out a sigh of relief, realizing that he doesn't have to talk to you, at least not yet.

This will be a promising year...

**

It was unexpected how easily he became intrigued by you.

**

One month has passed since you arrived at Nekoma, and Kenma watched as you slowly made a small group of friends over the month. Not just a normal group of friends, no. Your friends consisted of those who were considered "weird" or "not worth their time" by other students of their year. What they didn't know was that -during lunch- you would fall on your side from laughing as you talked with your friends, discussing everything and anything with great excitement. He couldn't hear what you were talking about from the gym doors every time he took a break from practice, but he loved to hear you laugh.

He also noticed your subtle ways of trying to become friends. By slipping notes towards him during classes. The notes weren't the like the notes someone would usually slip through. Normally, notes like that start with a "hi" on them or some other greeting, but these notes didn't. The first note you slipped through was with the question: "is it okay with you if I write you notes?". Not what you would expect, but he did appreciate it since you gave him the chance to decline if he felt uncomfortable. He answered: "yes" to the note, and from then onwards the two of you have been slipping notes to one another. The majority of the time, your notes were related to the classes that you had together. Whether he understood it or not, or if he knew the answer to a question.

Days passed, and passing notes became a routine in his life. In the morning, he already looked forward to seeing those notes with your identical handwriting. From time to time, he would be the one starting a conversation (not that it happens a lot). Though, he always found it worth doing, since those times are the times that he got that one smile from you. That smile that set off a weird feeling in his stomach. What that feeling was, was still a question to him, but he didn't hate it one bit. On the contrary, he wished to experience more and find out what it exactly was.

Through those notes he got to know you better. He found out that you moved from a little town in Japan to Tokyo because of a private matter. He also found out that you loved watching anime and playing games. That piece of information made him happy, knowing that he could talk with someone about his favorite games and maybe play together.

**

It was unexpected that you came to him for help.

**

"Kenma!" Kuroo yelled as Kenma was hiding once again from the volleyball practice during lunch. He just wanted to play one game, just one. Kenma let out a long sigh as he got up from his hiding spot. "I'm coming," he said, making his way over to the court, sloughing over the gym floor. He really loved his best friend, he really did, but sometimes he wished for him to just disappear, so he can play his games. "You really need to stop hiding, Kenma," Kuroo looked at him, "or at least find better hiding spots." Kenma rolled his eyes and just ignored him, and looked at the other side of the net, wanting this to be over already.

Just like he wished, practice went by smoothly. The team was cleaning the gym when the doors suddenly opened, startling a few of them. Kenma looked up towards the door and was surprised to see you there, panting as if you just ran all the way here. He flinched when your eyes fell on him, and there was that smile again. His stomach did a flip at that, flipping more when you made your way towards him. "Kenma," you started, "sorry for bothering practice, but um I had a question." He nodded, waiting for your question. "Well, I had some difficulties with the subject we learned in class today, and since you seemed to understand it, I hoped that you could explain it to me. If you don't mind, of course," you asked him while gently fidgeting with your fingers.

He just stood there, looking at you. He knew you had difficulties with that subject, but he was surprised that you asked him for help. He soon realized that he had been staring at you and nodded softly. "Yeah, I can help you with that. We can go to my house after school," he said softly with his small smile. Your eyes lit up at that and you smile happily: "Thank you Kenma, you are my savior! I'll come here after your practice then!" You waved at him and then walked away, leaving him to suffer under the stares of his teammates. Cleaning will take a while longer now.

The day passed by slowly, until finally the whistle, signaling the end of practice, was heard. He helped his team with cleaning the gym, excitement running through his body at the thought of spending time with you. Walking to the changing room, he avoided Kuroo's pained gaze. "Why are you letting me walk alone Kenma!" Kuroo whined while changing his clothes. Kenma groaned softly as he changed out of his shirt. "Because I don't want you to annoy Y/N with your chemistry jokes," he said with a glare at Kuroo. Kuroo made a hurt sound at that, huffing and crossing his arm, acting hurt by his comment. The team changed quickly, exhausted from practice, and wishing to go home. They exited the room and Kenma immediately spotted you, as if you were metal and he was the magnet searching for you.

After bidding his team goodbye, he made his way over to you, who had just spotted him. "Hey, Kenma! Are you still up for helping me or not?" You asked, slightly worried that maybe he was too tired from practice and was forcing himself to do this.

He nodded. "Yes of course," he placed his hand on his neck, "You came to me for help, it'd be rude if I back down now." You nodded, a smile grazing your lips as you looked at him. He was silent for a moment, just looking at your smile before realizing that had been staring. He coughed, "let's go now, otherwise it'll be late." He started making his way to his house, you are walking next to him. There was a comfortable silence present in the walk. One that he enjoyed. If being with you also means having comfortable silences, then he wouldn't mind being with you more.

The evening went by quickly. Kenma helped you with your difficulties. You found that he was rather patient, even if you messed up many times. The evening ended with playing games together until you had to leave. He found it to be a succeeded evening.

That was the start of a new routine. Whenever one of you didn't understand a subject, you would ask the other to explain it.

**

It was unexpected how easy he loved you...

**

Months passed, and he found himself falling in love with you, though he didn't notice it immediately. He realized it one day when he was feeling rather down, but as soon as he got a message from you, he felt better. It was then he knew that he liked you. And not a little. He didn't deny it, though he was afraid. Did you feel the same, or was it one-sided interest? He decided not to dwell on it too much, telling himself to keep it a secret from you, for now at least.

It didn't stay a secret for too long. He should've known that you were as observant as him. On a Wednesday after school, when you were together at his house, studying, you decided to break the ice with an unexpected question. "Kenma, do you like me?" you asked with a serious face. He froze in his place, keeping his eyes on his notebook. He sighed and nodded, moving his eyes towards you, "yes, I like you. Love you even." He did it, he said what he felt, and he didn't know how to feel about it. Will you laugh at him, saying that he shouldn't feel that? He waited anxiously. However, it never came. You just smiled at him, beaming even. "I love you too Kenma, I have loved you for a while now. I just was a little scared to say it, I didn't want to mess up our friendship," you rubbed your neck, your smile still on your face.

He couldn't believe what you just said. You loved him too? After all this time he had been stressed, you loved him too. "You really do?" he asked, just to be sure. You nodded, "yes, I really do. So, would you be my boyfriend?" He nodded, the biggest smile he ever had on his face as you shared a hug. Nothing could make him happier.

Nothing much changed after that, except for the loving gazes you both would send each other during class. The fact that you held hands when you walked home together, or the dates you had at an arcade or your favorite café. Though it didn't matter to him what you did on a date, if he could spend his time together with you, he was happy. The silence when you worked or the excitement when you played a game, were moments he held close to his heart.

You also met the volleyball team. You got along with them very well from the start. He also loved that about you. One moment you could be quiet and just do your own thing, but you could also be very extrovert and easily have a conversation with people that you liked. He knew that he would become old with you and marry each other in the future. It may be early to think that, but he is sure that he doesn't want it any other way.

He felt invincible next to you.

**

And how easy he lost you...

**

"What..." Kenma froze in his place. The teacher looked down, "yesterday...," a deep breath," yesterday, Y/N passed away in the hospital. Apparently, she had a life-threatening illness. Her funeral is this Friday." His world stopped. He raised his hand, asking if he could be excused. The teacher nodded. It was no secret how much Kenma loved you, everyone knew that. The way his stoic expression went away when you were near him. Everyone saw that. The moment he got permission, he left the room, running to the bathroom. Locking himself in a stall, he fell on the ground, looking at his hands, tears flowing down his cheeks.

Did you know that you were going to die? If so, why didn't you tell him? You probably didn't know it, right? Yes, that must've been it. He kept repeating those words, trying to believe them. However, it didn't work. Even when he tried so hard, he couldn't believe his own words. He had seen you getting worse with each passing day. The dark circles under your eyes, how thin you were. He thought that it was because of the stress from school...he was wrong. You were slowly dying in front of his eyes, and he hadn't even known.

Still, why didn't you tell him? Then he would've spent more time with you. Maybe you didn't know how to tell him? No, that wasn't true. He knew that you had a reason. You didn't want everyone to look at you with pity in their eyes, you didn't want them to treat you differently from others. You wanted to forget that haunting truth. That thought caused him to cry even more. He hunched over and covered his mouth, sobs escaping his mouth. He stayed like that for who knows how long. There wasn't a single tear left to spill. His voice was hoarse and his eyes red.

Days, which felt like years, passed and it was your funeral. The whole school was present, together with your family members. Some were crying, others' tears had already been spilled earlier. Kenma was one of them. He promised himself not to cry. Not because he didn't want others to see him like that, but because he knew that you wouldn't want to see him crying.

He stood in front of your casket, looking at your smiling picture on top of it. He kissed the top of the casket gently, closing his eyes. How he wished to see you, not dead, but alive and well. Standing in front of him with that gentle smile and those loving eyes. He wondered...did it hurt? Dying? Were you wishing for it to be over quickly because you were in so much pain? Or was it painless? Did you accept death with open arms? Was there a smile on your face when you said your last goodbyes? He will never know, and maybe that is for the better. He knows he wouldn't be able to handle the truth.

When the funeral ended and the casket was under the ground, your parents approached him. He had met them the first time he came to your house to study. They were two kind and gentle people, who loved their child with their whole hearts. "Hello, Kenma," your mother said with a sad smile. He bowed his head as a way of greeting them, afraid that if he were to talk that he would start crying again. "Thank you for coming to their funeral, I'm sure they would've been happy," she said, and your father nodded, looking down. "Before Y/N passed away, they asked us to hand you this," he gave him a note, "we don't know what it says, but it seemed important to her." Kenma looked at the note and then back at him. "We will leave you alone now, please come by again to pay her respects sometimes," the mother smiled, and then they both left, leaving him alone in the graveyard. He opened the note, immediately recognizing your handwriting, and started reading.

"Hey, Kenma! If you are reading this, then that means my funeral has passed. It must've been shocking to receive the news about my passing. I'm sorry that I never told you about my illness. I'm sure you already know why I never told anyone. It's exactly as you think, I wanted to feel normal and healthy. My apologies again. Are you alright? Probably not, that was a stupid question, wasn't it?

"The reason I'd moved schools so late in the year, was because it was one of my last wishes. I've always wanted to attend Nekoma. Do you know what my other wish was? Finding love. And you granted that wish. I've never been happier with you. The moments we spent together have always been secured in my heart. I had high expectations for love, but you surpassed them. It was amazing. Though, I have one more wish, one that only you can grant. Are you willing to do it? I hope so. I want you to live free, don't let me hold you back. Continue living, don't forget me, but also don't stay in the past. Find love again, pass your goals, be happy. That is my very last wish, I hope you can grant it. That was everything I wanted to say. I will watch you from above. I love you so, so much. Sayonara, Kenma."

He fell to the ground, crying once again, holding the notes close to his heart. "I will try..." he cried, "I will try to grant your wish. Please keep watching over me, watch me grow. I love you! I miss you!" he closed his eyes and kept crying.

It'll be hard, but he will try to move on. If that means granting you your last wish, if that means that you can rest in peace, then he will do it.

[rosaliestark01]

Dusk Till Dawn - Part 9

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Tony reveals who Y/N's real dad is and Y/N confronts her family.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, angst, maybe some cringiness???

A/N: Although @annies-marvel-imagines will no longer be posting more parts, she will still receive credit.

"Can someone please explain what just happened?" Clint asks as he sits against the wall of their cell. He flicks a piece of lint from his sleeve before looking at the others for answers.

"I'm sorry. Did you miss the part where Y/N kicked our asses?" Tony backtalks. It's evident he takes your betrayal extremely personally, more so than anyone else.

"No, I think I was taking my afternoon nap," Clint deadpans. "What I don't understand is why."

"This is all my fault," Peter sighs. His shoulders slump and the regret is clear as day. "If I hadn't let my guard down at the dance-"

Everyone in the cell groaned in exasperation. Peter and Tony hadn't stopped blaming themselves the entire time, and it was shattering the morale of everyone there as though their spirits weren't already broken.

"Now's not the time to be playing the blame game," Nat discusses. "We need to figure out a way out of here."

"We wouldn't be in this mess if Y/N hadn't stabbed us all in the back," Bucky mumbles under his breath. He knew that you were a good fighter, considering he and Nat were the ones who trained you. He just never imagined that you'd turn on him and everyone else.

"No," Steve responds. "Y/N wouldn't betray us if she didn't have a good reason. He had to have forced her or something."

"Sorry to break it to you," Ezekiel chuckles as he approaches the cell with you and Eloise by his side, "but I didn't force Y/N to do shit. Isn't that right, sweetheart."

"Yeah, dad," you reply. Peter seems to be the only one to notice how uncomfortable you were to call that man your dad.

"Dad?" Tony quotes. His face turns beet red, and, for a split second, you were afraid that a vein would pop. He stares at Ezekiel angrily before responding, "You-"

Before Tony could finish his sentence, Ezekiel pressed a button, causing a soundproof metal barrier to surround the cell.

"Don't worry about them, Y/N." Ezekiel laughed, beginning to walk away. "They'll get what they deserve soon enough."

"With our sponsor ready to move to phase two, we'll be unstoppable," Eloise added. You refrained from becoming visibly alarmed at the mention of a sponsor. It made sense that that would have explained how they could get a hold of such advanced technology.

"Your sponsor?" You questioned, trying not to seem too interested.

"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with," Ezekiel mutters, ignoring you in favor of questioning Eloise. "Has the shipment arrived?"

"Most of it," She states. They continue walking ahead of you, leaving you to wonder what the heck you've gotten yourself into.

-----------------------------

"Tony, is that true?" Rhodey asks. "Is that asshole Y/N's real dad?"

"You're kidding me, right?" Tony retorts. "Of course, that's not Y/N's real dad."

"Then who is he?" Steve questions, unaware of how Tony has been avoiding making eye contact with him.

"His name is Ezekiel Stane. His dad was my business partner until he betrayed me." Everyone nods their head, beginning to understand what was going on.

"And now he's using Y/n to get revenge," Steve finished. "Who is Y/N's real dad?"

Everyone looks at Tony expectantly. They're both eager to find out who your real dad is and curious as to why it is such a heavily guarded secret. Whoever it is, it can't be worse than the guy who is actively manipulating you as an act of revenge. When Tony fails to answer, Bruce speaks up.

"Dammit, Tony, this is important information," he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

"Banner is right," Steve declares, causing Tony to lose it.

"Fine! You want to know who her real dad is? It's you!"Silence engulfs the cell as everyone is too shocked to quickly process what Tony revealed.

"Is this a joke to you?" Steve's brows knitted in confusion and anger as he stared at Tony. Yet, the fear and bitterness that burned in his eyes told the truth. "I can't be Y/N's dad. It's impossible."

"You want to know how it's possible? Ask Fury," Tony seethed. He couldn't meet anyone's eyes, but he knew what they were all thinking.

"Fury knew?" Nat asks quietly, not ready to believe that Fury would keep something this important, something this profound, about you from her.

"Dammit, Tony. You had no right to keep this a secret," Steve yells as he begins to pace. The more he thinks about it, the more you look like someone from his past, someone he thought would be his future before he went in the ice.

"Didn't I?" Tony challenges. "Y/N is still my daughter."

"Now's not the time to fight about this," Nat mutters, still processing the information. "Y/N still thinks that that guy is her dad, and we need to find a way out of here."

"I don't think that Y/N thinks that guy is her dad," Peter pipes up. "You saw how uncomfortable she got when she called him 'dad', and I have a gut feeling that she's still on our side."

"I don't trust your spider-tingle, or whatever you call it. It's been wrong before," Bucky scowls, remembering one of the few times he remembers Peter's gut feeling had led them all into a few unpleasant situations.

"But I don't think it's wrong this time. I have faith in Y/N," Peter states confidently.

"I hate to say it, but the kid is right. Y/N is our only hope of getting out of here."

------------------------

"Would you fucking quit it? You're giving me a headache," Eloise fusses. At this moment, you'd give anything to shut her up. You came here to think, but all you could think about was how her constant bickering was distracting you. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

The two of you were in what Ezekiel called the "weapon room ." Although there wasn't a weapon in sight, you had a feeling that they were still in the piles of unopened metal crates that were stacked around the room.

"They're the Avengers," You tell her. "Aren't you worried they'd escape?"

In reality, you were more worried about helping them escape. You'd be lying if you said that you thought this out entirely through. You should have realized before you put your friends and family in a cell that you'd need to know how to get them out of it.

"Unlike you, I have faith in the cell Zeke created. There's no way they can escape without the remote," Eloise glares at you from where she sat. The dislike she had for you was more evident than ever, but you didn't have it in you to be sad about it. The sweet girl you became friends with months ago never existed.

"What remote?" You ask. Her eyes narrowed at you as though she were scanning you for any signs of betrayal.

"Like I'd tell you," she huffs angrily as she rises to her feet. Either way, learning about the remote gave you a new plan. "Unlike Zeke, I don't trust you for a second. Not when we've got your slimy boyfriend in a cage."

"He's not my boyfriend." The words, despite their truth, burned your mouth. Peter wasn't your boyfriend, but that didn't mean you didn't want him to be.

"Sure." The second she turns around to leave, you notice something peaking out of her pocket. This could be the remote, you thought. Then again, what if it isn't. Either way, you weren't going to pass up the chance in case it is.

"Eloise." She turns toward you, but before she could react, your fist collides with her jaw, causing her to collapse on one of the crates. You check to make sure that she stayed out cold before grabbing the remote.

You couldn't help the rush of anticipation as you make your way towards the cell. You weren't sure what you were going to say to them or if they were even going to hear you out, but you had to try.

"Okay," you mutter as you stand in front of the cell. You stare at the remote in your hand, and you click on the button that you hope would open it. Abruptly, the cell seems to unlock before a door popped open. Inside stood the shocked faces of your family, who you double-crossed.

"You guys probably hate my guts, but trust me when I say I had a good reason," you stated as you stared at their faces which were a mixture of anger, disappointment, and relief.

"Care to explain?" Nat crosses her arms dauntingly, prompting you to lower your head in guilt.

"Well..." You began, fiddling with your sleeve. "I'll start by saying that I made a mistake by trusting Eloise and Ezekiel."

"You think?" Bucky scoffed. You couldn't help the shame that washed over you at the sight of the disappointed looks etched on the faces of your two mentors. You knew it would take a lot to earn back their trust, but you hoped that this was a start.

"But when I realized that Ezekiel wasn't my real dad, I had to play along," you explain. You look up at everyone and hope that they'd understand. "I think that they're planning something big."

"Answer this. Did you start playing along before or after you kidnapped all of us?" Nat questioned. The look on her face is unreadable, which slightly unsettled you.

"It was the night of the dance," you confirm. You felt bad about ditching Peter that night. It wasn't until afterward that you remembered that Peter didn't like Gwen. Instead, he chose you. You just had to go and mess it up by choosing Eloise. "They started talking nonsense about Tony attacking them and how they needed to destroy the Avengers, so I played along to find out what their endgame was."

You subtly wince at the way Tony's face fell when you used his name, regret washing over you immediately. For all you knew, Tony is your real dad, and the file that Hydra had on you was one big lie.

"What do you think they're planning?" Peter asks. You meet his eyes for the first time and answer honestly.

"I'm not sure, but Eloise said something about their sponsor being ready to move on to the next phase." You let the severity of the situation soak before continuing. "They've already received truckloads of metal crates just like the one we got from that Hydra base weeks ago."

"The one with the red wax stamp?" Nat asks, meaning she remembered.

"Exactly."

"So, do you have a plan?" Sam asks, getting up from the floor.

"Yeah." A small smile made its way to your face as you look at your family. "I have a plan."

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[kyeomunism]

The Phoenix Ymbryne ||  Millard Nullings

Pairing: Millard Nullings x Fem!Reader

Devil’s Acre Era (includes events in TDODA)

Word Count: 2.3k words

Summary: You are a peculiar who can take the form of a Phoenix. Wights were a constant threat until an invisible boy takes you to your new home. Getting to know him made you realize your purpose and the worth of all you’ve been through.

A/n: this fic includes South-East Asian references and i wrote it in a way you’ll learn easily. so whatever your race is, step inside Y/n’s boots and enjoy this adventure fluff. 

︵‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・༺❀༻・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ︵‿︵‿︵

1900, Manila

The gust of wind rustling the forest almost silenced your pounding heart, but not quite. You transformed into a blazing bird and shoot through the bright sky, searching the brown earthen hues below. Your bird form made you an easy target, knowing that the wights after you have hunting guns; but your bird form also allowed you to scan the forest with your peculiar intuition. You could detect souls and sense their objectives. As you fly towards the outskirts of the woods, you located the two wights running away.

Suddenly, you felt another soul wandering through the thickets. A lone, pure heart, a good aura that you wouldn’t expect right after getting chased by blank-eyed monsters. Driven by curiosity, you roamed above the trees where you felt the presence. It was a floating map. You perched on a branch and watched the huge map turn, as if being held by a person. You looked from another angle at it revealed a floating suit and trousers. Carefully eyeing the subject and its pavement shoes leaving a calculated trail, there was only one word you can fathom: peculiar.

It had been over half a century since you’ve seen another peculiar, and it fascinated you how you couldn’t actually see this one. You continued watching the invisible who seem to be looking for something; a landmark? a person? a girl who can turn into a two-feet-tall fiery bird? If it was the latter, you knew you couldn’t easily trust someone, even if your intuition screamed this person’s good intentions.

You flew towards your house by the river, and judging by the angle of the floating clothes below, you knew you’ve been spotted. The moment you reached your home, you transformed back to your sixteen year-old body and slipped in a floor length skirt, a white sleeved shirt made from pineapple fabrics, and a scarf around your neck. You prepared hot chocolate in case that invisible peculiar pays a visit.

It only took a few minutes until you heard a knock on your door. Reluctantly, you opened it to reveal the same floating clothes that seemed to belong to the western world.

"Who are you?"

"Millard Nullings, at your service." A voice of a teenage boy spoke up. You moved aside to allow him enter your home, saying your name as you lead him to the drawing room. At first, you thought it was going to be painfully awkward, but it immediately changed into a pleasant, curious atmosphere when his body headed straight towards the ancient maps on your walls, as if being pulled by a magnet.

"Thank you, this place is incredibly interesting. For the longest time I thought these maps were never to be found again," Millard said as he took the hot chocolate from your hand while staring at the walls.

"These are from my old ymbryne. She was a real treasure," you said, standing beside him. "It shows hundreds of ancient loops across Asia. I wouldn't have found my current home without these maps. Oh, and Millard... may I ask how did you get here?"

"The wights after you were caught a while ago. This loop is marked empty in A Map of Days, so catching two of Caul's followers in here is intriguing. It wasn't long until I found the entrance after leapfrogging through a parallel loop nearby."

Brushing off more questions in your head, you offered him a seat and took sips of hot chocolate.

"Perplexus wasn't wrong when he marked this loop empty," you said. Millard's head most likely whipped up at the mention of the famous cartographer.

You smiled at this and continued. "When my old loop was raided, my ymbryne suggested this small loop. It was an empty peculiar menagerie. I suspect a dozen peculiar animals used to live here with all the traces I've found. But for over fifty years, I haven't seen any peculiarity in this area." You turn your head towards the window. "Past those Cacao trees is the membrane of the loop. A small provincial village with normal people, normal chickens, and a normal carabao. So seeing you here feels more surreal than it sounds," you admitted.

"What about your bird?" he asked, "that tall phoenix flying around the woods?"

A twinge of realization came over you and you sigh, reluctant to admit your peculiarity.

"That was me," you say finally.

"What! You can turn into a phoenix? You're an ymbryne?" Millard's voice was a mix of astonishment and confusion.

"How else did you think I manage to revive this loop?" You smiled.

"I just thought ymbrynes' bird forms are supposed to be inconspicuous. But you were...incredibly remarkable."

Your cheeks heated up at the comment and you divert your gaze with a soft chuckle.

"That baffled me as well, that's why I only transform in important situations. Locals believed me to be a magical bird, thus driving many hunters' attention. My bird form is known as Adarna. Similar to a phoenix, but distinct in certain features."

"Adarna? I've never heard of that kind of bird before."

"It is a famous folklore bird in the Philippines. There are stories about it, even in the Tales of the Peculiar." You stood and picked up an old children's book on the bookshelf across the room. You handed it to Millard, which you assume, made him smile.

"This is an ancient version indeed. I annotate many of the Tales but I've never seen this before. Would you mind letting me borrow this?" You couldn't bring yourself to say no to him, so you insisted he could keep it. Stating that you didn't need a copy, having memorized it for the longest time.

After minutes of discussion, you noticed how he got so excited in the topic of maps, history and his friends. It felt like you were listening to a teacher who loved his work, and you weren't complaining as you found this adorable. You were both having good laughs with Millard's stories, until he finally said, "I trust you expect a reassurance that the wights wouldn't trouble you anymore, but we can't be certain."

Your eyebrows furrowed at this, "what are you planning?"

"To take you to Devil's Acre."

You were surprised and slightly taken aback. He must've seen the faraway look on your face so he continues, "Y/n, you don't have to go now. I can just leave you a detailed map to help you reach the panloopticon anytime."

You paced around the drawing room. "So you're letting me go there alone?"

“If that's what you like, yes. I don't want to rush you into leaving your home, but I’ll feel much better if you let me take you there myself." His British drawl made your throat dry, you could only nod.

"I'll take my time to think about it, but as soon as the wights come near this area, I'll head to your loop for safety." You decided it's only smart to stay home until real danger emerge, despite how much you'd like to go with Millard. "Why don't you stay here for a while?"

"That can be a problem. You see, my ymbryne left me with strict rules..."

"You weren't supposed to be here, aren't you?"

You both just laughed at this.

A while later, a loud commotion started in the other side of the loop membrane. Villagers were screaming and animals were flocking away.

"Was that a regular noise within your loop?"

"For fifty years of living this exact same day over and over again, I can assure you that was most unnatural." You got up and pocketed an old but sharp dagger as Millard packed the maps and the book you gave him.

"Those are certainly Wights looking for their other comrades. We ought to flee this place now," he said.

You both slipped through the backdoor towards the river, careful not to trip into the mud. When you reach the bamboo raft, he held your hand and made sure you wouldn't lose balance. This gesture, however, made you lose your composure instead.

"You seem nervous, is it the raft? Should I let you cross the river first?"

"No, no, it's safe," you said as you both stood on the either side of the raft, trying not to slip as you crossed the river holding tall pieces of bamboo to keep yourselves steady. "I guess I just feel sad that I'm leaving home for good," you say. It was true, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit that he made you flustered.

"I understand that this loop may close permanently as you leave," he said, "but in the Devil's Acre, you may train with other ymbrynes ang get the chance to create new loops, have wards of your own—"

"Train with other ymbrynes?" You exclaimed as the raft reached the other side of the river.

"Yes, they're rather lovely. Miss Avocet and all the other ymbrynes would love to guide you. I also believe my friends will celebrate your company. Horace will cook feast, Olive and Claire will surely entertain you, oh," he said, clearly excited, "the celebration will never be enough!"

"Are you kidding me?" You laughed soundlessly as you headed towards the forest. "Your presence alone is more than enough."

He did not reply anything for a moment and you bit your lip. Millard lead the way to another loop that was connected to the panloopticon. It was a silent but surprisingly comfortable walk. He told you to watch your steps in some parts of the forest and you give every useful information you had about your homeland.

"There it is, come here, y/n." He spotted the portal door propped amongst the old trenches of the place that was once bloodstained by war.

Shivers crawled down your spine as you paced forward. Millard noticed your uneasy expression and ran circles on your knuckles. "You can tell me if you don't want to come," he whispered gently, "we'll figure out another way if you're ever uncomfortable."

"Thank you, but I really want to go with you. I want to meet your family and read your books." A smile painted its way on your face just thinking about it.

Without another question, he lead you through the door while gripping your hand. You held your breath and let him guide your steps. His fingers traced your forehead and you opened your eyes.

═ ∘◦ ❉ ◦∘ ═

1886, London

"Where are we?" You stare at the plain, unfamiliar bedroom infront of you.

"The third floor of panloopticon," Millard said with a relieved sigh. "We just crossed half the world in a matter of seconds, I trust the kitchen will have something to ease our loop-lag."

Without even thinking about it, you pulled him in a hug. He caught his breath and wrapped his arms around you as you feel tears streaming down your face. You missed your country but don't regret being with this boy at all. "Thank you," you managed to whisper.

It had been less than a week since you first arrived. Millard's friends were the kindest people you have ever met. The first time you saw Miss Peregrine, she was furious at Millard for running off without permission, but her mood changed when she met you and realized you were an ymbryne too. You were immediately recruited in Miss Avocet's academy and made friends with many other people in the Acre. You get along very well with Miss Wren who was interested in your peculiarity and the fact that you lived in a menagerie loop in Asia.

Desolations came and you stayed in the Ditch House with Millard reading books for you. While it was raining blood, bones and ashes outside, you were having the time of your life with your new family.

You stayed in the Academy while the rest of Miss Peregrine's wards take on their adventure to France, giving all your best wishes for Millard.

You fought in the battle of the Devil's Acre and tended to the injured with the other ymbrynes-in-training. When you heard the news that Caul was defeated, you were elated and incredibly happy.

You were one of the ninety-five peculiars who broke loop-bound in Jacob's house. You could finally go anywhere you like without the fear of aging forward rapidly, and Millard promised many trips with you, you could only shut him up with a peck on the cheek.

═ ∘◦ ❉ ◦∘ ═

1940, Cairnholm

So many good things happened to you that week, but nothing could beat the joy you felt when you found out that the ymbrynes-in-training are to live with Miss Cuckoo, and Miss Peregrine and her wards in Cairnholm.

You stare at the dog roses in Fiona's garden, you were filled with mixed emotions and wanted a quiet time. All of them are celebrating inside the house; all except Millard, who was wearing a velvet smoking jacket for the occasion.

"It's beautiful here," you said while watching his clothes head your way, "you must be happy that you're home."

"You are my home," he said sincerely, now standing in front of you.

You couldn't grab any witty reply, in fact, you couldn't find any words at all. You knew you were blushing ferociously by now.    

"Mind if I talk to you about something that's been bothering me for a while?" He broke the silence and you nod at him.

"With everything we went through these past weeks, I found myself hoping to stay alive."

You stifled a laugh. "Isn't that a good thing? Wishing you'd survive?"

"That's the point, I wanted to stay alive, not just because we ought to take surviving as a priority, but because I can't get you out of my mind."

Your face went blank. "What do you mean, Millard?"

"I wish it was a choice, but it wasn't. I fell in love with you, Y/n. I'd love you for as long as time."

"And we have time," you reassured him, "I love you too," and with that, he kissed you.

Both smiling into the kiss, you leaned against each other, swaying in the breeze of the garden and basking in each other's presence forevermore.

[passable-talent]

Hello! I am so sorry to request zuko, I know you've had a lot of him but could you do a fic where zuko and the reader meet in the tea shop when they get a job there and they grow really close and start to fall for eachother but the reader ends up joining team avatar just as zuko teams up with azula and the reader is angry and confused with him and doesn't know how to feel when zuko shows up to join the gaang after all they heard about him and Mai and him betraying them and iroh in ba sing se

ADGDVABAG DONT BE SORRY TO REQUEST HIM I LOVE HIM

also I really love the days of Lee just after Zuko’s illness, I wish we could’ve seen more of that side of him. When he was just happy and had so much of his heart to give, before Azula came back and ruined it :/

roe, about five hundred words down and not even halfway through the request: I guess I’m staying up late tonight

After hearing your friends raving of a new tea shop in the upper ring, you agreed to a trip there. You were so damn busy with your schooling, you were training to be in the Dai Li after all, but you could afford to take an afternoon off to sit with some old friends.

You were never much of one to take part in conversation, merely sitting back to listen. You had sat in the chair closest to the wall, leaning back with your feet propped up on someone else’s chair as you sipped tea and listened, eyes drifting all around the shop. The owner and waiter seemed very nice, and the tea was delicious, though the scar of the young waiter interested you. You knew very little about the fire nation, but you did know that an attack by a firebender on an earth kingdom citizen would not be tolerated. Even a fire nation citizen was not above the law of the Earth King!

After that evening, you decided to learn a bit more about the staff of the Jasmine Dragon. You became a regular customer, bringing your texts up to the shop, and sipping tea while you studied. You learned the name of the waiter, Lee, and that the owner was his uncle, called Mushi. They were kind, and soon enough Lee could recite your order before you could even ask it. Your friendship began slowly- from his small smile when you walked in the door, to inviting him to sit with you when he had a moment to rest.

One night, Mushi dropped a tea pot and made a noise of distress when it shattered. You left your textbooks on your table and went to help clean it up, feeling as though it was the right thing to do, especially since the shop was packed and Lee had other things he could be doing.

“I’ll fix it for you, if you like,” you told Mushi, “I’m an earth bender. But it won’t look the same, though.” Mushi gave you a bright smile, insisting that you didn’t need put the effort in, but you gathered your schoolbag and dumped the pieces into it anyway.

That night, you stayed up a bit too late with the candlelight and reassembled the pot. It was a slow process, and just as you expected, the cracks were still visible. The earthbending, you suspected, reshuffled the porcelain back into the clay it was original formed from, and so the pot didn’t look nearly as nice. But it did hold water, and stood up to heat, and Wushi thanked you profusely when you gave it back to him the next day.

A week or so passed, and Mushi invited you to stay past the hours of the shop to have tea with him and his nephew personally. You accepted, eager to talk with them, and learn more about them. Mushi spoke of Lee, and how proud he was of ‘the man Lee was becoming’, and was happy to listen to your discussion of your schoolwork. It seemed, though, that he had an ulterior motive, as before the night was up he offered you a job.

“I’ve got the money to pay you a small salary,” he said, “and Lee could use the help, since we’re getting so popular.” You accepted, gratefully, and started work after your morning lecture, helping with the lunch rush.

It happened so fast, that you could barely process it all.

You friendship with Lee grew until the two of you would flick water at each other while wiping down tables. You would take your breaks together, throw up your feet in a back room, and complain about one unruly customer or another. You’d tell him stories about your training, and he’d tell you stories about his travels with his uncle before coming to Ba Sing Se. Your favorite moments were when Mushi would shove Lee and you out the door, insisting that he could close up shop alone, and that the two of you should get some fresh air.

You shouldn’t say that you fell in love with him, but the spring months of 100 AG were lovely.

Everything changed one afternoon when you came into work and found it empty. You were worried, and dared to wander up and into Mushi’s apartment, finding it empty as well. Just as you were about to leave you ran into Mushi, who asked your help, explaining that he needed to hurry, and he’d give you information along the way. You agreed, and somehow, ended up at the house of the avatar.

The day went so fast, so ridiculously fast, as you bonded with Toph and Sokka, and grew more and more worried for the fate of Lee- or was it Zuko? This whole time, you’d been flicking water at the banished Fire Prince? You’d been taking dating advice from General Iroh, the Dragon of the West?

It was a lot to take in. Even more to take in was the  treachery of the organization you were readying to join, and suddenly you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t stay in Ba Sing Se knowing everything that had been hidden from you. So you vowed, at first, to join Iroh and Zuko on their journies away from Ba Sing Se and the fire nation.

Then Zuko betrayed Iroh.

It was something you never could have predicted. This boy, who gently tended to a wound on your arm when you’d brushed against a scalding teapot, who’d held your hand on walks around the upper ring, who’d laughed with his uncle and smiled and had seemed so undeniably good-

This boy had betrayed Iroh and condemned him to prison.

You were angry and hurt, because not only had be betrayed Iroh, but he’d betrayed you. His masquerade, you could forgive, as he was a banished prince, after all. But he sided with the Dai Li, who’d lied to you, and attacked the avatar who’d come to rescue him, and nearly turned his bending on you upon the instruction of his sister.

You were so angry.

So you left with Katara. You helped her escape and reunite with the others, allowing you and Toph to navigate the five of you to safety.

You assisted them as best you could through the spring and summer. You learned stronger forms of earthbending from Toph alongside Aang, and offered your input on his training as well. You helped fight Combustion Man. You fought beside Hakoda on the Day of Black Sun- even facing down firebenders with heartfelt ferocity, remembering how it had felt the first time firebending was turned to you, back in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se. As months passed, more and more anger settled in the pit of your stomach, even as Aang told you to let it go, but he didn’t much help as he told you all the things that Zuko had done before you met him.

None of it made sense. Not to you. It felt like two different people- the boy who laughed with you, and the boy who turned against you.

It made even less sense when Zuko reappeared.

You’d like to say that when you saw him, all you felt was rage, but that wasn’t true. You were happy to see him again, because the lightness of his tone, forced as it may have been, reminded you of the Lee you’d known. But anger corrupted even those feelings as you stalked forward, interrupting his words, watching his expression as he recognized you.

“Y/N?” He asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” you said, and then you raised your hand. You wanted to smack him, but you realized you’d raised your right hand, and if you dealt the blow, you’d hit his scar.

And that felt cruel.

So you exhaled your anger and turned from him, letting your eyes slide to Katara, and then Aang.

“You guys decide this. I’ll have no part in it.”

And you left his sight.

have this meme because that was a really angsty ending

edit: | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 |

-🦌 Roe

[secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer]

Invisible String (Harry Styles x Reader)

(Soulmate AU)

A/N: Got inspired with this while listening to Taylor Swift’s Invisible string, hence the title. It took me a really long time to write this, hope you like it! 

Warnings: none

Summary: In a world where soulmates are connected by an invisible red thread, how would you find yours?

“Maybe if I yank it hard enough, I’ll pull him to me.”

“Honey, you know that’s not how it works, right?” My Mom leaned forward and placed her hand on my arm, she looked genuinely concerned for me.

“Mom, you got it easy. You were fifteen when you bumped into dad. Literally. And here I am, twenty-six and still don’t know who is my soulmate,” My voice rising slowly as I pushed her hand away from me, I was getting rather frustrated having the same conversations over and over again.

“Oh don't be so dramatic, your Grandma was thirty-five when she met your Grandpa and you know how happy they were. You'll find him," my mom tried to reassure me. Again. “Or her," tilting her head to the side, she added as an afterthought.

I almost wanted to roll my eyes, my Grandma was a very patient lady, unfortunately, she didn't pass down the trait to me.

I had been waiting for my soulmate ever since I turned five and sort of understood the concept. Invisible red strings. Fate. The one.

My parents sat me down one fine day and explained to me how two people that were meant to be together were connected by an invisible red thread tied to their little fingers.

All I asked them at the time was if the thread was invisible, how did people know it was red. They told me I'll find out in due time.

I still didn't know the answer to that.

But after my five-year-old brain had absorbed the newly received information, I got obsessed with finding my soulmate.

There was something incredibly reassuring about having someone only meant for you. But wrapped around it was the uncertainty of how and when and you will find them, or even if you'll find them.

After that day, I would constantly find myself reaching for my pinky finger, a calmness washing over me, a hope to find someone, and call them mine.

My friends and I spent hours discussing our soulmates, what they would look like, how would we meet them, and so on. Our parents would look at us and coo, mostly finding this adorable, reminding them of a time when they were young and probably did the same.

That's how things worked.

I was ten and had left my obsession behind. I still found comfort in my little finger during times of sadness and anger.

One night in the middle of June, after a big fight with my parents, I ran up to my room, plopped myself on the bed, and let loose all the emotions building up in me. 

It was a few hours later when my breathing calmed down and the tears on my cheeks dried when my left hand reached for my pinky, and my fingers felt a soft textured thread reaching out from it.

My eyes widened as I looked down at my hands but found nothing, only my fingers wrapped around what seemed to be air, a few inches in front of my right hand's littlest finger.

I could not comprehend what had happened and chalked it up to delusions due to my tiredness.

The next morning I woke up, groggy, my hands automatically reached for the supposed string that I could feel the previous night and found that I could still touch it. "Maybe I am still tired," I convinced myself before sleeping for another few hours.

It was after spending a few days just feeling out the string that I realised I could touch the red string of fate.

My parents didn't believe so, they thought I was still a delusional kid with my head up in the clouds. They found it cute for a couple of days, happy that I was still interested in finding a soulmate, but then my constant attempts at convincing them that it was true got annoying for them.

No one seemed to believe me, and my friends thought I was lying for attention.

Nothing like this had ever happened. Fate worked mysteriously, fate worked behind the scenes. No one was supposed to know how, it just worked. I must be lying.

Since no one believed me, I found solace in my thread, in my soulmate. I tried pulling the string, hoping the one on the other side would reply, would pull it towards them as well. But nothing.

I guessed maybe they couldn't feel the string as well, just like everybody else. But my soulmate was not like everybody else. If I could touch the thread then they could as well, after all, our souls were connected. Maybe they just didn't want me.

I never stopped though, just like my pinky had become my safety blanket, I found a new comfort in pulling the thread, twisting it between my fingers, still praying that my other half could feel it, even if they didn't respond.

I would spend hours trying to follow the thread, but it seemed endless and at the time, my block was where my world ended. My soulmate was way out of my reach.

Three months later, in the middle of my English class, I felt it. A tug. I looked down, before realising I could not see it. I almost laughed at my stupidity, but it was clear as day, my soulmate had responded. 

My head shook as a slow smile crept up my face and I couldn't stop the sigh leaving my mouth. My classmates probably worried about my sanity, shaking my head and smiling at nothing sitting in the centre of the classroom. But I didn't care.

Knowing that there indeed was someone on the other side was like finding a piece of land after a lifetime at sea. I didn't waste a second to reply and received a tug again. I smiled, he was here and he was here to stay.

It was the start of something new. Every time, one of us felt down or lonely or happy we would pull at our thread, we now had someone to share those moments with.

I didn't know if his family or friends knew about us, but it felt like our secret.

Over the years, we formed this new language between us. Sometimes, we would pull the thread at the same time, or wait for the other to respond but no one would. It was uncoordinated and messy, like two drunk people attempting to dance, but it was ours.

I was eighteen when I figured a way to enhance our communication. Morse code.

It was some random detective show that gave me the idea and it seemed perfect. I just didn't know how to communicate this to him.

It took me less than a month to learn morse code. After I was done learning, I tried pulling at the thread in a specific pattern ‘Hey Soulmate’.

He wouldn't understand the message, but I prayed he would realise what it was.

He did.

Somehow, my soulmate had lost the ability to disappoint me. I smiled at the thought.

It took weeks of incomprehensible back and forth between us for us to finally be able to understand each other. It was hard, but we achieved it.

I realised two things from our exchanges.

One- My soulmate was a dork, his dad jokes were endless and two- I loved every second of it.

He would start pulling at the string in the middle of the night and I had to grab the notepad and pencil from my bedside table and decipher his messages half-asleep. And It would end up being some lame knock-knock joke.

You bet I laughed every time.

 Which always led me to wonder what it would be like to actually be with him. How would he be as a partner? Would he hold my hand walking down the street? Would he kiss me in front of his friends? What nickname would he give me or would he give me any at all?

I spent most of my time talking to Harry, whose name I had learnt in one of our earliest full conversations.

My parents let it slide, believing it to be some teenage issues. My friends were lucky enough to have found their own soulmates at a young enough age and were too busy being in love.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" I asked him one night.

I kept staring at the neon stars on my ceiling. Trying to conjure his face in my mind as I waited for his response, but didn't feel the now familiar tug that carried his replies.

It seemed like hours before my little finger was finally pulled at. With my notepad and pencil at the ready, I was prepared to write. “A musician”.

The corners of my mouth were pulled upwards and I imagined a young faceless man with a guitar in his hand performing in a stadium for thousands of people.

A laugh left me when I pictured him ending his concert with a final joke. People would groan at him but laugh nonetheless. They would love him too.

My mind then wandered to a future where he was performing at the Madison Square Garden, people screaming I love you from the audience. A huge smile gracing his lips. He would then came home late at night after the concert and lay down on the bed next to me. He would wrap his arm around my sleeping form and whisper I love you in my ear and I would respond with a sleepy mmph. He would smile down at me and eventually fall asleep too.

I looked down at the thread which was still pulling but all I could catch was a question mark. I cursed myself for not paying attention and asked him to repeat his question.

“What about you, Lovie?"

I stilled. Lovie? A nickname. So he was a nickname kinda guy.

I almost forgot to reply to him. But then instantly hit him back with a “Journalist”.

My pinky was pulled again, “Maybe that is how we will cross paths”.

I liked the thought.

"Owww," my right hand was pulled harshly when I stood up to submit my English assignment, causing me to fall forward. I was confused for a few seconds, trying to piece what caused it, but found nothing.

I looked around as everyone was laughing at my clumsiness, still dazed, I stood up and placed my essay on my teacher's table who looked at me with her eyebrows furrowed in concern, her lips parted to whisper "Are you okay?"

I nodded my head and returned to my seat, head down and my thoughts racing a thousand miles a minute. Before it clicked, Harry. I couldn't believe he made me fall down on purpose, or maybe it was an accident.

“Sorry”

I shook my head at my clumsy partner and focused on my teacher who had started talking about something else already.

I wasn't going to let the incident go that soon. During our next conversation, instead of sending him a reply, I held onto the soft, invisible thread tightly and yanked it towards me.

Not getting a reply soon after, I started worrying I had actually hurt him. Panic flowed through me, this was an insane idea, why would I do that? What if he was driving? What if he was at a height?

“Owww”

I admit I laughed, the incident wasn't hilarious enough to call for that level of laughter, but I did.

All my panic had immediately flown out of me. I loved it; before he pulled his end of the string again and made me fall down.

Thus, welcomed a new addition to our language.

We would yank our strings during mid-conversations, making the other fall down wherever they were. Did injury turn us on? We never tried to guess.

~

Moving to college was harder than I thought, I didn't know if I was moving closer to Him or farther away.

I considered asking him where he lived, but shook the thought away, we had promised not to reveal to each other any of our identifiable qualities except for our first names. We wanted to leave some things up to the true mastermind, Fate.

Going to New York University was my dream. Receiving my acceptance letter was an emotional moment for me, it took my Mom like an hour to calm me down enough to actually read the letter.

So, physically being here, standing in my dorm room was another level of excitement. I was ready to bedazzle the world with my writing.

"Ouch," someone came rushing into me from the back. I turned around to look at the person who bumped into me, only to find a five-foot-something, brown-haired girl standing in front of me, rubbing her forehead.

"Hi."

"Hello, you must be the roommate. I'm Olivia, what about you?" Her eyes held a curious gaze, as she extended her right hand towards me.

"Y/n," I placed my hand in hers and shook it lightly, having a good feeling about her.

"Y/n, brace yourself, we're gonna be best friends for a really long time."

I knew it.

During my time at NYU, Olivia really did become my best friend, she introduced me to her soulmate, Ashley, who was somehow an even bigger bundle of joy than Liv. I didn't know that was possible.

"Who're those guys?"

"Hmm?"

"In your poster, I have always wanted to ask you that," I pointed at the big poster Liv had stuck on her wall in our first year.

She looked at me, her brows raised up to her forehead and her mouth agape, "You don't know One Direction?"

"I mean, I have heard of them. Are they any good?" I remembered my friends back home making me listen to a song of theirs, "What makes you beautiful', it was catchy but I never dug deeper into them. I didn't even know why.

"Only the best," her mouth was set into a hard line, but her forehead was covered in creases as though she was thinking deeply about something.

"Come on, I'll show you their songs. I don’t why we’ve never done this before.”

This commenced a whole night of one direction albums, music videos, their documentary, and their recent concert film. She even called Ashley to our room, which began an intense lesson on the fandom ships, theories, and dramas. It was a busy night.

By the next day, I was more knowledgable about one direction than I had ever intended to be. I didn't it mind it though, I got to further learn the inner makings of my best friend.

I had to admit, I was a little partial towards Harry Styles, his name had become a personal favourite of mine. Plus, he was cute.

I also noticed how clumsy he was on stage. Constantly falling down, mid-performances. It was hilarious. Olivia told me that's just how he was. Goofy, dorky, always telling lame jokes.

“Do you know one direction?”

I waited for his reply, this one took longer than our previous ongoing conversation. I didn't like it when he replied late.

“Yes.”

“Olivia introduced me to them.”

“Who do you like the best?”

I didn't even have to think about it at all, “Harry styles.”

I hoped he was smiling, where ever he was.

“Really? Not my personal favourite.”

That idiot. My face was hurting from smiling so much. I wondered how I would even be in this guy's presence without physically hurting my cheeks.

But I knew I wouldn't mind it, as long as I could be with him.

“Who do you like then?”

“You.”

~

I had never known how successful my dream of becoming a journalist could be. All I knew of back then was my talent for writing and my passion to make my voice heard. And it was all I had ever needed.

Rolling Stone was a magazine only a few could say they were not familiar with. And even fewer who wrote for it.

I was one lucky girl, who worked through countless unpaid internships before finally landing a job at this prestigious place. I had written quite a few articles under the politics section of the magazine.

I kept up with Harry over the years, at this point I knew basically everything about him, except for what he did for a living, where he lived, and who he was. But I loved him. And I waited for him, even if did get tiring at times.

Everywhere I went, it felt like everyone had found their soulmates except for me. I was the one girl standing alone in the middle of a dance floor during a couple's song.

All these years he still seemed none the closer to me.

We still found joy in tripping each other during random hours of the day though; Falling for him was the highlight of my day.

~

"Maybe if I yank it hard enough, I'll pull him to me."

I had a rocky relationship with my parents, they had never believed in me, too busy in their own love story to pay attention to their only daughter. I couldn't hold it against them though if you had something as beautiful as they did, why would you focus on anything else.

I sigh in bitterness as my Mom rambled on about how she met my Dad. Although I had heard the story a billion times, it still made me smile. Then, reminded me how I didn't have that.

My phone started vibrating next to me, I looked at it to find it was my boss calling me. I tilted my head upwards, trying to recall if I had informed her of my visit to my parents' house. I had.

Confused, I picked up the phone, "Y/N, you need to come to the office now. We need you to take over the article Rob Sheffield was supposed to write," my boss's commanding voice instantly hits my ears, making me flinch backwards.

"Wait, what?"

"Rob had an urgent business to attend to and you are the only replacement available." Her voice carried her usual urgency.

"But Rob is a music journalist, I write politics." Her words were rushing past me and it was getting harder for me to keep up.

"Obviously I know that, but as I said you are the only replacement available, everyone else is already working on their pieces. Come to the office and get your assignment. Now." When I was told my boss did not joke around, they were not kidding.

As soon as she hung up, I started packing up my stuff. I explained to my Mom about the situation, her shoulders slumped, I knew she really wanted to spend more time with me, but she sighed, nodding her head in understanding.

Walking into the Rolling Stone's office every day still brought me back to my first day here. When I was a twenty-three-year-old naive girl, with a heart full of determination and a head full of ideas.

The elevator doors opened and my eyes fell upon the old Rolling Stone covers hung from the wall, they looked like gold records in a music studio. I walked down the lobby to the reception and asked Ally if my boss was available.

I knocked at her door, patiently waiting for her to invite me in. Three years later and I was still deathly afraid of her.

"Y/n, you are going to interview Harry Styles. You'll leave for LA tomorrow morning, and meet him first thing after landing, hang out with him a couple days, get to know him, this is going to be the cover story. I know music is not your department but right now I really don't have any other option. Do your research all day today, we'll publish the article in next month's issue. It better be good." She clicked her fingers, pointing them at me and then shooed me away from the entrance of her cabin.

"Harry Styles huh," I walked towards my desk remembering all the late-night dance parties I had with Liv and Ashley during college, blasting all of One direction's hits, discussing fan theories and whatnot.

The familiar pull nay yank brought me back to the present, on my office floor, with my colleagues watching over the all too familiar scene.

A smile graced my lips, at this point I had lost the ability to feel shame. I sat down on my desk and pulled at my thread.

“You will pay for this.”

“I am ready when you are, Lovie.”

How was our relationship ever going to work if I was ready to melt any time he called me that.

I knew he was waiting for me to trip him, but I didn't. I would get him when he wouldn't expect it. Not today sir, not today.

I went to start researching on Harry Styles and preparing my questions for tomorrow. A groan escaped my lips as I slammed my forehead on the table, this was not enough time.

Harry Styles was a multi-millionaire, platinum record selling artist with millions of fans. He was portrayed to be this womaniser, who played with people's hearts. But, the first thing I learnt about him during my research was of his kind heart.

I surfed through countless videos of his interactions with fans, clips from his concerts, conversations with paparazzi and not once did I find him in a bad mood or as someone less than the absolute model of perfection. Everybody had bad days, well everyone but Mr.Styles apparently.

As someone only writing about the people in power; the politicians, the stark deviance from my usual subjects was a well-welcomed change.

He was a part of various charities, always preaching about love and kindness. Honestly, I was a little jealous of how lucky his soulmate was, to have someone like him.

After reading possibly everything I could about Harry, I started working on the questions I would ask him. I was determined to know how he managed to be the way he was. How he remained calm even after constantly being harassed by fans and paps alike; How after all these years, he still didn't let the fame get to his head.

I woke up the next morning feeling weird tingles in my stomach, I wasn't able to determine if it was good or bad. I went about my usual routine trying to ignore the tingly feeling. I read through my questions again, I had formed a sort of admiration for Harry (the singer) and I wasn't going to embarrass myself when it mattered the most.

I checked myself in the mirror one last time, feeling good with the outfit I went for- a tan, high-waisted lace-up jumpsuit. My confident outfit seemed like compensation for the nerves running through my body.

My mind wandered to my soulmate for a second, wondering what he must be up to right now. I looked up at myself in the mirror again and saw the smile on my face. Only for you, partner. I shook my head, picked up my suitcase and left for the airport.

The last thing I wanted to do after a six-hour flight was to meet an international celebrity, but I shrugged, a job was a job.

The deli we were supposed to meet at was a quaint place, the two ladies working there were incredibly sweet. They greeted me with the widest smiles and escorted me to a semi-secluded corner when I told them about the purpose of my visit. They doted about Harry, who I concluded was a regular here, calling him 'my love'.

Harry hadn't arrived yet and I was starving, the fragrance of different foods in the deli wafted to my nose, serving as a constant reminder of my hunger. The ladies whose names I had learnt to be Gloria and Raisa noticed my condition and offered to bring me a sandwich, but I declined the offer, not wanting to order before Harry's arrival, considering it to be a bit rude.

But, ever the saviour Harry entered the deli soon after, I admit I released a long breath in relief, I would finally get to order.

Harry's presence was like a force of nature, no one could escape it. I stood up from my seat, without thinking twice as if something compelled me to honour it. I couldn't pry my eyes away from him, and I didn't want to. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

Every step of his brought him closer to me, the weird tingles I had been feeling all morning intensified, crawling up to every part of my body. I wanted something, anything to help me ground myself.

My hands frantically searched around for my thread, and as soon as my fingers made contact with the string of fate, the familiar calm washed over me.

Maybe in my frantic state, I pulled the string too hard. I winced, almost closing my eyes as Harry's expression changed into one of panic, his eyes widening as he fell forward. I worried about my Harry as well, realising how hard I must have pulled the thread.

Oh.

OH.

I rushed towards Harry, helping him up. When my hand touched his bicep, a warmth started flooding through my veins, locking eyes with him, I knew he was experiencing the same thing as well.

We both looked down towards our hands and a red string was seen connecting our pinkies. We met each other's eyes again.

"Hi," he gave me a toothy grin. I could die a thousand times for his smile.

"Hello," his eyes, a little sunken, were the most beautiful green I had ever seen, I could spend a lifetime getting lost in them.

"Well since I've already fallen for you, how abou' we go out to eat something. Oh wait, we're already here." His chest was out, and his eyes gleamed at his statement, he was weirdly proud of his jokes.

My entire body shook, I didn't know if I was laughing at his ‘Pick up line' or the situation. I was standing in front of my soulmate, whom I've pined after all my life, only for him to turn out to be Harry fucking Styles.

His brows furrowed in concern as I continued laughing, even he realised his joke was not funny enough to prompt this big of a guffaw.

I took a step back, my hands reaching up to rest on the sides of my face, tears were streaming down my face from laughing too much. Harry's contorted face making me laugh louder. I could not stop.

He reached out his hands and wrapped them around mine. I noted how big his hands were compared to mine, warmer too. "Hey, are you okay?"

 I nodded my head, taking deep breaths to calm myself. When I seemed to have a hold on my laugh, another round burst from me. I started shaking again.

At this point, Harry had given up on me and started laughing as well. We were garnering unneeded attention but we couldn't stop. I noticed from the corner of my eyes, Gloria and Raisa were hovering around us protectively, not letting anyone come near us. Angels.

After several minutes or hours, we stopped for good. And even though my stomach was hurting like a bitch, my smile couldn't have been wider.

"So, it's you huh," I started, bringing Harry to my table, "My soulmate heh." My palms were getting sweaty, I tried to subtly wipe them on my pants.

He sat across me, reaching out and grabbing my hands in his again. I changed our hand positions, interlocking my fingers with his. The red string between us lengthening and shortening constantly, conforming to our movements.

He nodded, a smile ever-present on his face. He released a small breath, his shoulders slumped slightly, "I've dreamed of this moment for years. It's good to finally meet you, Lovie."

A weird gurgle-like sound left my mouth. My eyes widened as I covered my mouth, horrified and embarrassed at the same time.

He just looked amused, raising his eyebrows as if to ask me what the fuck was that.

"It's just, it keeps hitting me that this moment is real. That you are here in front of me and you are the Harry Styles-" my eyes continued to dart down to the striking red colour of the thread I was so accustomed to not seeing "-But like you are also just Harry, who I've known all my life." 

"I get tha', I do," he nodded fervently, "All my life, I pictured a faceless girl when I imagined a life with you. Now everything seems complete, like the final piece of the puzzle has been placed and I can see my life as a whole picture and I see you with me," he then shrugged his shoulders, wanting to be seen nonchalant.

Hearing him reflect on everything that I've been feeling as well, brought tears in my eyes. He noticed my eyes getting glassy,

"Was it too much too soon?" His fingers were slightly tapping on the table, he kept looking down at our joined hands and biting his lips. My eyes fell to his lips, I hadn't noticed how pink they were.

"No, no, not at all," my hold on his hands tightened as I shook my head, trying to ease his nerves as well.

I went silent for a minute, not sure if I should continue before starting to tap a pattern on the table. One I hoped he would get without having to write it down.

“I love you.”

If the smile on his face were to say anything, it was that he got it. Of course, he would.

Our fingers started to tingle, pulling our attention towards them as we watched the red string starting to disappear.

When it seemed to be fully gone, I traced my hand around the table, checking if I could still feel it, I couldn't. It had really gone away.

I knew this would happen, but it didn't make saying goodbye any easier. Harry brought our hands together again, catching my attention again, "I don't need the string any more, I have you in my arms now." He rested his forehead on mine, breathing slowly.

He then brought my hands up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on my knuckles. Causing a soft gasp to leave my lips. I swear he would kill me one day.

"I love you too, Lovie."

[amythedvdhoarder]

Three

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Word count: 4.3K

Warnings: Swearing, little bit of drinking, quite angsty and fluffy

A/N: (gif not mine) So this is my incredibly late entry to celebrate  @finleyjayne reaching 100 followers. Congrats hun you deserve it. So I picked the prompt ‘Feeling blue’ with Stucky. This is not beta read so I apologise now for any mistakes. 

xxx

Bucky let out a heavy sigh as he rolled over to face Steve in bed. Another night filled with restless sleep, the extra body in the bed missing making it impossible to sleep easily.

“What’s up? Steve grumbled still half asleep.

“You know what,” Bucky replied wistfully.

Steve stretches out lazily before turning to face Bucky and smiling sadly. “We had to let her go, give her a chance at a normal life. She couldn’t have that with is Buck.”

“Why can’t she have a normal life with us Steve? Everyone accepts us? We could have settled down, got married, had a few kids. No one would have questioned it.” Bucky knew the tiredness was stopping him from keeping a lid on his emotions.

“You know that’s not true,” Steve reached for Bucky’s hand and pulled it to his lips briefly, “nobody outside of the team knew about the three of us. It wasn’t fair on her, you agreed at the time too. We let her go before it got too far and we couldn’t. We had 6 happy months together, let’s just remember that.” Steve tugged on Bucky’s arm, encouraging him to come closer. Bucky shuffled over and rested his head against Steve’s chest.

“I know, I just miss her. I love her so fucking much it hurts.” Steve closed his eyes as he felt that familiar stab of pain that Bucky was talking about. Bucky was everything to Steve, they had been through so much together. But you. You were like the missing piece of their jigsaw puzzle they hadn’t even realised was incomplete. You fitted them perfectly, after everything they had been through they were happier than they had ever been but they noticed you becoming more distant, spending nights back at your own place, then suddenly it was all over.

xxx

You missed Steve and Bucky like hell. They had woven their way into your life and now that they weren’t in it, you felt lost. The first time you met them they had come into the coffee shop you were working in. Bucky’s fingers had grazed over yours as you handed him his takeout cup and Steve’s eyes met yours making your breath catch. You witnessed the pair of them having a quiet conversation and them both sitting down at a table despite ordering coffee to go. They spent the rest of the afternoon at the coffee shop, chatting away, their eyes searching you out and finding you already smiling at them warmly. When you were finally closing up they asked you to join them for a few minutes.

They explained to you that they were a couple but were interested in spending time with you. Surprisingly you weren’t put off by the idea but in fact excited, so you accepted their dinner invitation. Two weeks later you found yourself in their bed and after that a permanent feature in their lives. You spent most nights with them at the tower. On your days off you would explore New York together, looking like a couple and their friend just having a day out. Not that it bothered you. You understood why Steve was never affectionate with you outside of the tower, he kept his distance. He had only just started to feel comfortable being out with Bucky in public. Bucky was different though, he had spent too much of his life not being himself to hide any longer. He would tease you with small lingering touches, not so innocent looks whilst nobody was watching and whispering naughty thoughts in your ears as you peered into shop windows.

Everything had been going smoothly until Steve had gone on a mission that lasted longer than expected. Before that point you hadn’t slept with either of them without the other being there or joining in. But during this week Bucky felt himself getting more and more stressed and in need of release so he called Steve and asked if it would be ok for you and him to sleep together. Steve agreed at the time but when he got back from his mission to find you and Bucky curled up with each other on the sofa his face told a different story. Of course, you instantly panicked believing you were driving a wedge between them which was the last thing you wanted to do. After you voiced you concerns to Bucky he told you that you were being daft but Steve’s demeanour changed around you.

From that point you began to distance yourself from the both, you made excuses to avoid spending time with even though it made you miserable. In that short 6 months you had fallen insurmountably in love with them but realised it had to end. Bucky and Steve were meant for each other, you cared about them too much to come between them. And after one short, teary discussion between the three of you it was over. You made your excuses about needing the chance to have a normal life where you could be open about your relationships, have some proper stability. It was all lies of course, something to avoid having to tell them the truth and potentially cause them more pain. Neither of them fought or argued with you, they looked a little ashamed but ultimately let you go.

Truth be told you missed all of the people from the avenger’s tower; Sam and Nat had become good friends of yours. They had tried to contact you after you left but you ghosted them, unable to have any sort of connection to anyone linked to Bucky and Steve. Your life seemed quieter, mundane and as you cleaned the coffee machine up for closing time you didn’t even notice when a new customer came in.

“Y/N?” the soft voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” you said moving towards the counter. “You want anything making?”

“Only if you’ll join me,” he smiled.

“I can’t. I need to close up and clean.” You could tell by the way his eyebrows raised that he wasn’t going to fall for your attempt to get rid of him.

“How about this. You lock up and I’ll help you tidy up. It’ll give us a chance to talk, I miss talking to someone who isn’t over 100 or a trained assassin.” Sam knew he had won when you burst out laughing.

“Fine, but only because I don’t want to clean up this place on my own,” you stuck your tongue out at him as you walked over to the door, clicked the lock shut and turned over the sign indicating you were now closed.  

You and Sam chatted away for the next 30 minutes talking about this and that, both delaying the inevitable topic of the two super soldiers. You handed Sam his payment of a cappuccino and you sat down in an armchair opposite him, nursing your cup of tea.

“So, you gonna ask me how they are?” Sam asks an amused tone to his voice.

“Sam, I-“ he shakes his head at you.

“I’m gonna tell you anyway. Y/N they’re not good, they really miss you even if they won’t admit it to us. Bucky is miserable, he barely laughs, makes a joke. Hell, he has even stopped teasing me. For some reason he only wears this one red t-shirt all the time, he is refusing to wash it. Like it actually smells now. And Steve. Steve is worst. His mood swings would put an adolescent teenager to shame. One minute he is snapping at everyone, breaking open punch bags and the next he weirdly calm and this look of despair just washes over him.” Sam’s eyes fixed on your face.

His words had clearly had an impact, making him feel instantly guilty. Your bottom lip wobbling, eyes full of tears threatening to spill over. He jumped up out of his seat and wrapped a comforting arm around you. At this the damn broke and you descended into sobs.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N,” Sam crooned softly, taking the hot tea out of your hand and placing it on the table. “Take a couple of deep breaths for me,” he instructed. Once you had finally had your breathing back under control and wiped away your tears, he finally released you and sat back down opposite you.

“I’m sorry Sam,” your voice croaky and raw from the crying. “I just miss them, I don’t feel like myself anymore. It’s like I’m hollow, does that sound crazy?”

“No, it doesn’t Y/N, I felt the same way when Riley died. The difference is they didn’t die, you could have them back in your life if that’s what you want?” he said solemnly.

“I would go back to them in a heartbeat Sam, but I just don’t think that’s what they both want,” you twisted the ring around your index finger.

“Did you not hear what I told you earlier? They’re lost without you,” Sam was thoroughly confused. His plan had been to try and talk you around to help you realise what a big mistake the three of you had made.  Nat was having a similar conversation with Steve and Bucky right now, informing them what she had found out by following you around for the last week or so since you’d left. But now Sam had a feeling that there was a bigger issue at hand.

“I heard you but they’ll learn to live without me. They love each other completely, I don’t think there is room for me in all of that.” It was the first time you had admitted the truth aloud, it stung but it felt good to have finally got the big weight off your shoulders.

“That’s the biggest pile of bullshit I have ever heard,” Sam scoffed. Your head shot up immediately, your mouth open in shock. “You can’t seriously believe that?”

You were quiet for a minute, not sure how to respond. “You don’t know them like I do,” you replied quietly.

“You’re right, in some ways I know them better. I knew them before you, they were happy but it was nowhere near what they were like when you were with them,” he folded his arms content that he had won.

“See that’s where your wrong Sam. You remember that mission that Steve went on, every little thing that could go wrong did. Well when he got home something was different, he was more guarded around me. I think it was because me and Bucky got closer whilst he was away, he didn’t want me anymore. I was getting in the way,” you reasoned.

“Y/N, I was on that mission with him. We went through absolute hell and back. I was distant from everyone for a while. Did you know he nearly died?” he looked at the way your eyes widened to find the answer to that question. “So, no then. Well he did and do you know what he said to me?” You shook your head. “I’m quoting here. ‘Tell them both I love them. Tell Bucky to look after our girl’. If you were really getting in the way, why would he say that?”

You sighed. “I don’t know. But he didn’t stop me from leaving.”

“Did you tell them the real reason why you were leaving?” Sam asked already knowing the answer.

You shook your head.

“And people call me an idiot?” he scoffed.  “Of course they let you go if that’s what they thought you wanted. You need to talk to them or at least see them and find out the truth.”

You picked up your tea and took a long gulp to avoid responding to Sam’s suggestion.

“Well whatever you decide you’re going to have to see them this weekend anyway?” he said smugly making you choke and cough as the now lukewarm liquid went down the wrong way.

“Sam what the fuck?” you managed to get out in between spluttering coughs.

“It’s my birthday party on Saturday, you promised you’d come ages ago.” He folded his arms at grinned.

“That was before,’ you stammered. “Besides, I’ve already said I’ll work another shift.”

“Liar,” he said getting to his feet. “Nat will come to yours and pick you up around 7. Think about what I’ve said Y/N. They really do miss you.”

You stood up followed him as he walked to the door. “Ok I’ll think about it. Don’t think I have much choice about Saturday, do I?”

Sam wrapped you up in a bear hug. “Nope, absolutely none.”

After you had locked up after Sam you sat back down and tried to process everything. Sam’s words played over in your head. There was no doubt that Bucky was missing you; he was wearing the shirt of his that you had slept in the last night you spent with them. It was Steve you were more sceptical about. If what Sam had really said was true then maybe Steve did care for you more than he let on. Perhaps some part of him doubted your affection and loyalty to them. There was no way to be sure except to see them. You just didn’t know if you were ready for that.

xxx

Nat showed up a whole two hours early with an array of outfits for you to pick from. She wouldn’t let you get something old and familiar out of your closet, she was determined to get you dressed up and into the party spirit. She only succeeded at one of those and by the time you both pulled up to the tower you were a complete bag of nerves.

���Will you quit fidgeting, you’re making me nervous,” Nat scolded you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled before pulling up the front of your dress. “Why a sleeveless dress Nat? They are so impractical.”

“Well -” she paused to twist the thin satin material at your hip, repositioning the perilously high thigh split, “- that may be true but I can guarantee one thing, those boys will certainly realise what they have been missing.”

You frowned at her and gave one final look over your appearance in the elevator mirror before the door pinged open into the loud and bustling party. She took your hand and led you to the bar where you were greeted by Sam who promptly handed you a drink. You knocked back the amber liquid quickly in an attempt to sooth your nerves, before anxiously scanning around the room for any sign of the two men you both longed and dreaded to see.

“Relax Y/N, they’re not here yet,” Sam leaned over and whispered in your ear. He gave you a small reassuring smile which mixed with warmth the alcohol was providing finally made you relax a little. Nat and Sam caught you up on everything that happened and the latest avenger’s gossip.

“Hey kid, we missed you. How’ve you been?” Tony walked up to you, his purple tinted glasses nearly falling of his nose as he threw his arms out to embrace you.

“Ok thanks,” you said quickly. “Great party as always Tones.”

“Well we have Mrs Stark to thank for that.” He turned to face Sam. “They’re gonna short-circuit when they find out she’s here,” Tony uttered, half amused before walking over to greet some other guests.

You rounded on Sam. “You didn’t tell them,” your voice low as you tried to control your emotions.

“Not exactly,” he shrugged. “Well guess we’re going to find out any second now,” he smirked at the entrance over your shoulder.

xxx

Bucky looked around the room, wishing at that moment that he could be anywhere else. He was walking towards the bar when he realised Steve was no longer walking next to him.

“Stevie?” he turned around searching for Steve and spotted him stood stock still, his eyes fixed on something across the room. Bucky walked back towards him and put his hand on his shoulder.

“Steve?” he said starting to get a little worried, he looked like he had seen a ghost. Bucky followed his line of sight and his eyes met yours across the crowded room. His breath caught in his throat and he could feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. He had thought of this moment every day since you had left and now that it was here he couldn’t quite believe it.

“Is she really here Buck,” Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Bucky blinked and turned to Steve. “I think so. Steve, we have to …”

“I know” Steve said as he took Bucky’s hand and squeezed it.

When the men turned back around you had disappeared from sight. You saw them frantically searching for you but you had managed to tuck yourself behind a group of shield agents. At the sight of them part of you wanted to run to them and throw your arms around them and never let them go but there was still doubts niggling away in your mind. One thing was for certain, Sam was right. Bucky did look sad and Steve. Well Steve was the one you hadn’t ever been able to get a read on before and still couldn’t now.  

“Y/N seriously, hiding from them?” Nat shook her head at you.

“Well you found me so I’m clearly not hiding am I,” you sassed.

“You certainly won’t be in a minute” she smiled deviously before standing on her tip toes and waving at the two super soldiers.

“I fucking hate you Nat,” you hissed.

“No you don’t. If you’re still planning on hiding I would move now, they’re on their way.” You stuck your middle finger up at her and then scarpered. Sure, you were going to have to face them at some point tonight but you planned on having at least another couple of drinks before that.

Mid-way through your first vodka and coke a tall red-headed man approached you and Bruce as you were chatting at the bar.

“Hi, I was wondering if you wanted a dance. Seems a shame to be hiding that dress over here at the bar,” Bruce bit back a laugh as did you at the corny line but none the less you agreed.

You let the man who introduced himself as Tom, take your hand and lead you to the dancefloor. Thankfully the song was slow so you didn’t have to worry about your dress slipping down. Tom placed his hands lightly on your waist as you held onto his shoulders, gently swaying to the music.

Midway through the song he leaned over and whispered quietly in your ear. “Do you have any idea why the winter soldier looks like he wants to kill me?”

Your grip on his shoulders tightened. “Bucky,” you corrected. “No, I have no idea,” the tone of your voice sharp. As you spun around your eyes landed on Bucky who was gripping onto the glass tumbler in his hand so tightly you were surprised it hadn’t smashed. It was often that you saw this side of him but it sent a shiver down your spine. Your eyes sought out Steve who you assumed would be with Bucky but you couldn’t find him.

“Mind if I cut in?” a familiar voice spoke softly whilst still managing to carry an air of absolute authority.  

Tom stood still and turned to look up at the blonde man. “Sure thing Sir,” he stuttered, “thanks Y/N,” and with that Tom backed away and nearly ran from the dancefloor.

“That was mean,” your hands fell to your hips as you scowled at Steve. “Plus, do I not get a say in this?” His blue eyes flashed with panic briefly but then that classic Steve Rogers look of determination reappeared.

“So, what do you want Y/N?” you could sense the double meaning behind his question. “Because I know what I want Y/N,” he continued, his blue eyes boring into yours taking a step closer.

“Steve I…” you closed your eyes and bit down on your bottom lip trying to find the words you wanted to say. A calloused hand cupped your jaw and you opened your eyes as Steve traced the tender flesh of your lower lip. The sound of the party disappeared and all that remained in that moment was you and Steve. Instinctively you pressed your hand on top of Steve’s and inched yourself closer to him.

“I wish this were simpler Steve but it’s not,” you hadn’t even realised you were crying until Steve removed his hand and quickly wiped away the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“This was never going to be simple Y/N. But all I know is that I love you. These last few weeks have bit a shit show. I didn’t say it enough before but if you’ll have me then I will spend every day showing you exactly how much.”

“What about Bucky?” you asked quietly.

“What about me doll?” Bucky had walked up to the pair of you, a lop-sided grin on his face.

“You two are meant to be together. I don’t want to get in the way of that,” you looked from Bucky’s face to Steve’s.  

“You can’t seriously think that Y/N,” Steve said moving forward to try and get closer but you took a step back.

“I know that when you came back from that mission everything felt different,” your voice cracked as you tried to make Steve understand.

Steve’s face fell at your words. “I was scared Y/N. I realised on that mission how important you were. How much we needed you. When I saw you when I got back with Buck, I realised that you deserved so much more than someone who might not come home one day. You’re worth more than that. I was scared you were going to figure it out and leave. So, when you started pulling away I let you because I thought that was what you wanted, what would make you happy. Even if it meant we weren’t,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck.

“And you,” you rounded on Bucky, “did you think the same thing?”

“Y/N you didn’t seem happy and I thought we were to blame; doesn’t that sound familiar?” he was right of course. “All I know is it sounds as if you have been as miserable as we have. Doll, we’re not us without you. We’re a team. You, me and Stevie. We’re all yours if you’ll have us?” he shrugged.

“Maybe you need us to convince you?” Steve closed the distance between you and pressed his lips to yours with a softness you hadn’t expected. You felt yourself melt against him as his hands found the nape of your neck and held you to him, your lips moving against his as you became reacquainted.

When he finally managed to tear himself away from the sweet taste of your lips, his cheeks were flushed and his ragged breath matched your own.

“My turn,” Bucky stepped over, his hand moving to the back of your head as he crashed his lips to yours. The intensity of the kiss had both of you moaning against each other’s mouths. You wrapped your arms around him, not wanting to let go but you had to eventually.

You stood breathless looking between the two super soldiers who owned your heart, your mind made up.

“Yes,” you smiled.

Bucky was grinning like a kid of Christmas morning but Steve didn’t allow himself to celebrate to soon. “You sure about this Y/N because we won’t ever let you go again,” he said.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” and you meant it. You couldn’t imagine a version of your life without Bucky and Steve in it. “Now get over here,” you giggled at the look of pure joy on Steve’s face.

Steve was on you in a second, picking you up off your feet and pressing kisses all over your face. Bucky came up to the pair of you and took you out of Steve’s arms to repeat the whole process all over again before leaning over to give Steve a quick kiss.

Bucky finally slid you down his body back onto the floor and Steve cupped your cheek and was about to lean down to kiss you again until Sam interrupted.

“Um guys, as much as I am enjoying the reunion maybe you wanna, you know, take this somewhere a little less...” Sam waved his arm around at the crowd of people around you.

You hid yourself in embarrassment behind Bucky’s shoulder. “Sorry” your voice muffled by Bucky’s suit jacket, but you knew it was loud enough for them to both hear it.

Steve laced his fingers with yours and pulled you to face him. “What are you sorry for doll,” he stroked the side of your cheek with the back of his finger.

“I know you didn’t want people to know about us,” you looked down at the floor.

“I got nothing to hide doll. I love both of you and that’s all that matters,” he squeezed your hand and turned to Bucky. “Let’s get outta here.”

“Been waiting all night for you to say that Punk,” Bucky grinned.

He took your other hand and lead you and Steve out of the party. None of you caring what people may have been saying about the three of you, only caring about the fact that you were all together again, just how it was meant to be.

Taglist is open. Let me know if you want in or out 😊 (it is quite possible I missed someone 😬 just dm me)

@stargazingfangirl18 ,  @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht, @buckys-henley, @lonelyheartsm @alexa-lightwood-blog, @angrythingstarlight, @drabblewithfrannybarnes, @rogueheretic555 @rebekahdawkins @chrissquares @pumpkin-and-pine, @hereforbuckyandsteve, @drakelover78, @baddie-barnes   @its-izzys @thehumanistsdiary​

[aelingalathyniusrailme]

If you find me at the edge, we’ll jump together.

Gwynriel pirate au pt 8- you don’t know who I am. 

this chapters a little bit shorter because the part that’s coming next would have made it way too long. also check out the other parts.  pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed and Azriel swore there was venom in her gaze. If he was being perfectly honest, he was slightly turned on. 

“Alright, I’ll bite. Why do we need you?” She spat out. Her words were icy, not the passionate, flirty pirate he had come to know, but someone different. Someone new. 

Perhaps new was the wrong word, perhaps he had just peeled away another of her many layers. And perhaps, as the days of their time together grew shorter, he had become more and more interested to find who, and what lay beneath. 

His mind was an absolute atrocity. Split between the pirate captain he couldn’t rid himself of, his second with secrets and lies curved around his every word, and the fae female before him, who shared history with each of them. 

Feyre. It appeared Nesta’s sister was just as lethal as she was, but where Nesta was cruel words and brute strength, Feyre was power of a different kind. Fae. 

The first of the archeron’s was ruthless and cold while the third was as immortal as she was dangerous, with a slight superiority complex. Some morbid interest had him curious as to what the second archeron sister would be like. 

At that moment Azriel sneezed, interrupting the stare down going on between Berdara and the assassin. He looked around and found the culprit. In a vase on the a shelf was a bouquet of roses. Damn his fucking allergies. 

Gwyn turned to him and everything about her softened, amused. 

You alright? she snorted a little 

Yes I am perfectly fine thank you for asking. 

Well this is good news, the infamous pirate captain can be brought down with a simple flower. 

A wretched flower. 

“Excuse me.” Feyre seemed very agitated. “I would appreciate it if you two could stop looking at each other for one moment.” 

Azriel swore he could see Gwyn blush slightly. 

“Yes of course, our apologies, please continue.” 

“Please don’t” Gwyn mumbled for only Az to hear. His lips twitched in agreement. 

“Now you two have half of what you need but you certainly cannot acquire the huge hall with a measly half.” 

She paused for a dramatic second. “You have the map and while I’m sure that the phoenix piss worked wonders in uncovering the sigil of The Dragon. But I’m sure you know it does not actually lead you to Amren herself.” 

Gwyn and Azriel shared a look. “Oh,” Feyre frowned. “I guess you didn't know that. But you must have known that her island moves with the storm and is constantly moving and the only way to track it down is to use the compass.” 

“No, you didn’t know that either?” Feyre’s frown turned upwards in a devilish smirk. “One more piece of information I suppose you need to know. Only a pure blooded fae can use the compass.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Like calls to like, power recognizes power.”

“Someone’s quite full of herself.” 

“I simply speak the truth.” 

“Sure you do.”    

Azriel sighed, this back and forth would accomplish nothing and he had treasure to find. “How about Captain Berdara and I discuss your proposition in private?”

“What is there to discuss?” 

Azriel smiled charmingly, “Not that you aren’t delightful company, but plenty.” Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw Gwyn frown. 

Feyre looked him over, and then turned her gaze to Gwyn, curling her lip in disgust as she walked out the door. Her footsteps became faint and Gwyn blurted, “Absolutely fucking not.” 

Gwyn took a breath, trying to regain her composure, “I do not work with people with conflicting interests.” 

“We need her.” He was sure of it, Azriel trusted his gut instincts and his instincts were telling him she was telling the truth, or at least some form of it. Although he far from trusted her. Azriel had learned a long time ago that the only people he could regularly rely on were himself and his crew.

She swallowed, her eyes turning steel, and her gaze becoming daggers, “No.” She turned away, about to walk out the door. Her shoulders back and her chin high. Even in her moments of vulnerability she would not sacrifice her pride.

“Gwyn.” The sound of her name from his lips was enough to stop her. 

Her voice was faint, the words barely there, “What did you just say.” 

His words softened, “Gwyn.” He said again as she breathed in sharply, “I will not pretend as if I understand you even remotely.” She snorted. “But I do not believe you are the kind of person to be swayed from your goals. You go after what you want with a ferocity that could rival any. And I know you want this.” Gwyn shifted on her feet as if preparing for a fight. It was a nervous tic, he realized. “Whoever you were when you knew that woman is not who you are now.”  

“And who am I now?” 

“Infuriating, stubborn, a royal pain in my ass.” She laughed weakly. “You’re a lot of things Berdara, but you are not stupid and you know as well as I that we require her services.” 

“So what is it you said to me? Ah yes suck it up and think of the money.” 

Gwyn flexed her fingers and squared her shoulders, clearly still itching for a fight. But then she did something unexpected, her body relaxed and she exhaled slowly. “You’re right.” 

Azriel was pretty sure he was having a stroke. “I’m sorry, say that again but slower this time.” 

In a flash she had him pinned to the table with her knee pressing on his chest and a dagger to his throat. “I’ve said those words three other times in my life, every one of them ended up with their heads on the ground and their balls in the sea. Don’t make me regret it and don’t expect it again.”

He believed every word and yet the dagger was held with almost no pressure so he smirked in agreement, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

She got off of him and wiped her clothes, “To be clear we are going to screw over feyre archeron right?” 

“You have to ask?” 

Gwyn’s smile was one of pure insanity as she murmured, “Maybe this will be fun after all.”  

He walked to the door and opened it, standing to the side as he held out his hand mockingly, “Your majesty,” She breezed through the door without giving him so much as a glance and when they found Feyre and their combined crew, god Azriel despised this women.

Feyre was holding Cassian, a man who was double her size, by the ankles as others watched with bored expressions on their faces. Cassian was grinning like an idiot, Nesta however, looked like she was 0.2 seconds away from throwing a knife into her sister's chest. Azriel didn’t blame her. 

“Feyre, drop it.” Gwyn scolded. 

“What am I? A dog?” She growled. 

“That’s an insult to dogs.” Nesta muttered. 

Gwyn laughed but instead of continuing this useless back and forth she spoke again, “Feyre if you acquire us this compass and prove that it works as you say it does, then we will agree to your terms.” 

“Thought you might say something like that.” 

“Well?” He asked.

“Well, a certain day court event will be expecting a few more members.”

Rhysand, surprisingly, groaned, “Oh my god no.” 

Emerie questioned, “Wait what?”

“Feyre darling is taking us to the sun ball.”

Tagging: @imsointobooks @meher-sumedha @himadrij @gwynrielsupremacy @ipsa-est-lux-plenae @flora-shadowshine @allthebooksunderthemoon @valkygwyn @bookish-isha @lattristantketchup @generalnesta @brieq @sv0430  @carsonjade12523 @aelinismyreligion @gwynrielisunmatched @shisingh @sarcasticsugarcookie @feyretale (let me know if you want to be added or removed.”

[potteresque-ire]

hello, ily metas! thank you for taking the time for them. i hope you dont mind an ask with two follow up questions to your metas i'm curious about: 1) has mxtx rly been sentenced? i have seen others also share this news but other fans have quickly dismissed and gotten pissed at these reports for being fake news that are bad for mxtx, and as fearmongering. 2) for those who want to support yizhan but not the ccp, do you have advice how to navigate fan support and interaction with their media?

Hello! I apologise for the late reply!  You’ve brought up some interesting points, so please forgive me for responding with an essay.

First, about MXTX — This is a follow-up to this post.

Unfortunately, this is all we got—all everyone has got about MXTX’s current situation: on 2020/11/10, she was sentenced in Hangzhou Shang Cheng District’s People’s Court (杭州市上城區人民法院). No details were given on her verdict, due to “人民法院認為不宜在互聯網公布的其它情形”  (“The People’s Court decided it inappropriate to announce further details on the internet”). Here’s a link with the screenshot that showed all the information released about the case that day.

There are enough copies of similar screenshots to this one online, with the differences dependent on where the publisher pulled the information from the same website: 中國裁判文書網, an online archive of verdicts run by China Supreme People’s Court. There’re few reasons, therefore, to believe the information on the screenshot was fake. The link I used was Sina’s Financial News, which I believe is trustworthy enough for China’s standard.

It is also important to note, of course, that two scenarios may still render this screenshot irrelevant. 1) The verdict, which was not mentioned in the screenshot, was “not guilty” and 2) the name listed in the case, 袁依楣, was not MXTX at all.

Few have seemed to suspect 2) to be a possibility. Her real name might have been prior knowledge among some fans, or the combination of her surname and city of residence. 1) has been the where the concern / debate is.

I included China’s rate of conviction in the original post for this reason: acquittal is exceedingly rare (<0.1%) for the arrested in China. This short article discussed some reasons.

So, is it possible that MXTX is now a free woman? Yes. Is it likely? Not at all.

Still, since the probability that MXTX is imprisoned isn’t 100%, is spreading this news smearing her name? Fear-mongering?

I can only answer for myself, Anon, but my answer is no for both questions, which is why I’ve felt comfortable posting about her case. MXTX’s alleged “crimes” are things we already knew she did, or common practices among Chinese IP writers. We know she penned MDZS and other BL works; we know MDZS, in particular, has an 18+ element. She was said to have sold merch based on her works, but that wasn’t unusual at all for writers in Jinjiang, where she published her writing. Even those who don’t like her have seemed to agree that it was her writing that got her into trouble, not some other crimes she could’ve committed.

IMO, a guilty verdict doesn’t tell us as much about her as it does about the judicial system, the business practices of her country. It’s worth re-mentioning that media giants such as Tencent are closely tied to the government; Tencent’s WeChat, for example, is part of China’s Great Firewall and is used for surveillance, for censorship and removal of political dissidents. What MXTX’s case hints at is this: the government has (very likely) convicted her, while its close allies are continuing to use her works—works that got her into legal trouble in the first place—to make money. Some fans of MXTX have questioned if the courts have censored the details of the case to save the embarrassment of the rich and powerful, calling what has happened to MXTX 人血饅頭 (“human blood steamed buns”), an idiom used to describe the act of profiting out of someone elses’ life.

As for fear-mongering, here are my thoughts ~ it would’ve been fear-mongering if the public has access to the facts, and not years after they happen. Specifically, it would’ve been fear-mongering to leak the rumours of MXTX’s sentencing, when the judicial system is transparent and the case details will soon be published for all to see. Why? Because “fear” comes from the unknown, and “-monger” is the unnecessary promotion, stirring-up of this fear.

To promote, stir up anything, one needs a reference level. The reference level in this scenario is this: what is the level of fear if the facts about MXTX’s (and other BL writers’) situation are known? Of course, this knowledge doesn’t make MXTX’s experience any easier or more just; it doesn’t cause her less fear. However, she isn’t the target audience of this likely-to-be-true rumour. The target audience is the public and in particular, those who consume and/or generate BL material online.

What is the level of fear among this population if the facts about MXTX’s (and other BL writers’) situation are known? It’s the (relative) comfort in knowing the government’s stance on what they do: how the administration feels about BL, 18+ BL, and their distribution methods. The comfort comes from having the right information to decide how to act accordingly. For example, if I’m a BL writer based in China and I know the court has found MXTX guilty of bypassing publishing houses but not of writing M/M romance, then I’ll know to not produce paper versions of my writing, but I can keep writing.

This reference level of fear is unavailable here, however, since the government has decided to withhold all details about the case. Without this reference level, fear-mongering becomes a ... difficult to define concept.

Are these likely-to-be-true rumours agents of fear, or are they hints on how to survive in a country that lacks transparency?

Continuing with the example of I being a Chinese BL writer, since I cannot expect to hear more facts about MXTX, this rumour is all I’ve got in choosing what to do with my hobby, in deciding whether it is safe to continue. As I’m aware that a rumour isn’t a fact, I first research on the rumour’s likelihood of truth (similar to what I’ve done for MXTX’s case), and cross my fingers that I don’t get it wrong.

By doing so, I’m turning these rumours into my survival guide.

Is it risky? Yes. Is it exhausting? Absolutely. But this is the way of life for people who live under secretive, authoritarian governments—the authoritarian element making it impossible to demand more facts. It may take people outside such regimes some time to get used to—to the lifestyle, and to the idea that, in a place where news is often synonymous with propaganda, rumours are breadcrumbs of truth that should be sieved through with equal care as one would sieve through the news. Heeding, considering the probable truth of what the authority has deemed to be fear-mongering rumours can be a matter of literal life and death. 

Take...COVID. (I apologize for bringing up this unpleasant topic!)

I shall link to an article about the early spread of COVID in Wuhan here and ask: were Dr. Li Wenliang and the seven other doctors fear-mongering? Wuhanese chose to believe in the government, but at what cost to them? What would the world be like today if they took the early COVID rumours as true and masked up like Hong Kongers—Hong Kongers who weren’t any smarter or better, but had simply learned their painful lessons from the 2003 SARS epidemic? 

(Why hadn’t the Wuhanese learned? Because the government has long changed the narrative of SARS, taught their people that the illness originated in Hong Kong.) 

(How can one learn from past mistakes if one pretends those mistakes never existed?)

You must be wondering, Anon, why I’m talking about COVID when your next question is about YiZhan. The death of Dr Li Wenliang on February 7th, 2020, sparked a demand for freedom of speech rarely seen in internet-age China. Its fury, its ferocity forced the government to change its stance on Dr Li, again an unusual move. Since January 2020, Weibo had been censoring COVID news and opinion pieces that shedded a negative light to the central government; after the death of Dr Li, the censorship apparatus stepped up, making way for the propaganda machine to kick in later and change the narrative of the pandemic.

Here are some questions without definite answers, but may be food for thought for YiZhan fans:

1) While the Chinese government’s censorship apparatus (including Weibo) might have silenced the voices of dissent, of mourning on the surface, was it more likely to pacify, or fuel the anger of netizens, many of whom had lost loved ones, many of whom were still under quarantine?

2) Less than three weeks after the death of Dr Li, a group of fans demanded even *more* censorship from the government—the closing of an internet website that had been seen as a relatively free space to express oneself. How would these netizens react, even though they knew little about these fans or their idol?  

(It was, in the context of the massive silencing of COVID discussions in China, that I learned about the ban of AO3. There had been rumours that the government would censor more websites on 2020/03/01. When I read about AO3′s ban on 2/27, my thoughts were 1) Hmm. This came two days early. 2) AO3? Really?)

(I wouldn’t watch The Untamed or know who Gg was until several months later.)

Now, Anon, this is a good time to get to your CCP (Chinese Communist Party) question.

The very short answer is no. There’s no way to support YiZhan without, to a certain level, supporting the CCP. As mentioned above, the media companies are all part of China’s surveillance system. Weibo is where freedom of speech is curbed. Our two boys have been part of the propaganda machine; the BBC article linked above had a tiny picture of Gg on it, as he was a performer in the Hero in Harm’s Way (最美逆行者), a “real-life based” drama on COVID. DD just did a show glorying the Chinese police force (and here’s a video of the same force welding doors to lock in COVID-stricken residents).

Nonetheless, here’s my first advice: please do not beat yourself up for supporting YiZhan!

Gg and Dd are people who live within the system, inside the Great Firewall. They understand the world the way their government has taught them to—not only in school, but also in the news and media. Like most youths in every country, they’re patriotic—and to expect them to be otherwise, especially because of information they don’t have, is both unrealistic and unfair. Even if they do know about certain things impermissible within the Firewall, in China (as in many Communists countries), openly expressing / performing one’s proper political leanings (ie. loyalty towards CCP) is among the most important pre-requisites for any job. This has been especially true for c-ent in recent years .

They, like most of their countrymen, are doing what they have to do.

In this case, it comes to us, our decisions on how to interact with their works. How should we deal with them, their propaganda elements?

The answer, of course, varies from person to person. Personally, I’ve chosen the approaches of “immunisation” and “restriction”. By “immunisation”, I mean learning about as much historical and sociopolitical facts from non-CCP sponsored sources; this is understandably difficult for someone who doesn’t already have some familiarity with the culture and politics of the region, and/or cannot read the language. 

Restriction means limiting my consumption of media produced by China. I avoid shows (dramas, documentaries, variety etc) featuring topics that are likely to contain heavy propaganda, such as the military, the police, Hong Kong/Macao/Taiwan, and of course, anything pertaining to the CCP, from its rise to its governance of the country.

In general, I’m wary of all information presented about the post-monarchy years (post 1911), even though CCP wouldn’t begin its reign until after WWII (1949). Why so early? 1) Because CCP was formed in 1921 and so its glorification requires a change of narrative since then; 2) because the Nationalist Party (Kuomintang, KMT), which governed China between 1912 and 1949 (the so-called Republican Era 民國), would end up exiling to and setting up a new government in Taiwan.

How much propaganda should one expect in shows depicting the country post-1911? The current TV and webdrama directives (previously discussed in this post) offer some hints. Here are my translations of the relevant items:

D7) Dramas about the Republican era: Glorification of the Republican Era, the Beiyang Government, and Warlord Era requires strict control.

D10) Crime drama: crime drama is the focus of content auditing. The Ministry of Public Security (Pie note: in charge of law enforcement, ie, police) will be involved in the audit. The process of crime solving cannot be exposed; criminal psychology and motivations can however be depicted in detail. Undercover police cannot use drugs or kill, or damage the image of the police force. Criminals must be punished by law.

D12) Dramas featuring realistic topics: realistic topics must adhere to the correct world view, philosophy of life and moral values. They cannot place too strong an emphasis on social conflicts, must showcase the beautiful lives of the commoners. Regular folks should display larger-than-life sentiments and aspirations; they can pursue wealth, but must use proper means to do so; they cannot damage the public image of specific employment types, groups and social organisations. Do not preach negative or decadent world view, philosophy of life and moral values. Do not exaggerate, amplify social issues; do not over showcase, display the darker sides of society; do not preach affluence, avoid things that have no basis in real life.

D16) Dramas featuring the Revolution (Pie note: CCP’s coming to power): 2019 is the publicity period of the 70th Anniversary of the People’s Republic of China. Although the “Three Importances” (important revolution, important people, important events) are still encouraged, the  National Radio and Television Administration requires all departments, at all levels, to strengthen the control of content and the overall management of the industry, and focus on the auditing of content pertaining to the Sino-Japanese war and espionage dramas.

These directives (as those translated in the other post) are as vague as they are restrictive, and to err on the side of caution, production companies tend to “overachieve” to avoid going against headwinds at the censorship board. This means their products have a tendency to malign the Republican Era (D7). It means they will likely twist history in trying to depict the CCP as faultless heroes (D16). It means they'll probably present a utopian-like society and call it reality-based (D12), a society in which the good guys share the same values as the CCP and always win (D10).

Yes, my “restriction” means I skipped Hero in Harm’s Way. It means I’ve never listened to Gg’s version of 我和我的祖國 despite my absolute adoration of his voice. It means I just missed Dd’s performance in the law enforcement celebration event. It means I don’t plan on watching Being A Hero and Ace Troops.

So here’s where I’ve drawn the line, Anon, but it doesn’t mean that’s what anyone should do. Only you alone can decide where your own comfort zone is. I write these metas in the hopes that it can offer a … gateway for those who’d like to understand, with a more telescopic lens, Gg and Dd’s country—a country that holds a particularly strong hold over its citizens’ fate including, yes, their romantic fate. It’s not my wish to impose my opinions on anyone.

If I have other hopes… It’s this. Please, as long as it’s safe for you to talk, do not self-censor—especially about facts, especially on sites like Tumblr or Twitter that have long been banned by the Chinese government. I don’t mean one should go about and confront those who insist on a different version of reality. To undo opinions rooted in years of education, IMO, the process has to be voluntary, and the information is already at the fingertips of those who’re surfing these sites and wish to learn more. More importantly, open discussions of these topics may be risky for those who still have close ties to China, and keeping them safe should always be the top priority. 

What I mean is simply this ~ please do not feel obliged to agree with every perspective presented in YiZhan’s work just because you support the leads. Please do not feel you must remain silent about the CCP—its good, bad and ugly—just because your favourite stars happen to come from the country it’s ruling. And please remember: “Chinese”, as a term, has always included people who live outside CCP’s control, many of whom still fully embrace the culture, traditions and values of Historical China, a 5000-years long string of dynasties with shifting borders, ethnic makeup and customs. The Untamed is a mainland Chinese production, yes, but its genre, its manner of presenting certain traditions, wouldn’t have been developed, or flourished, without the diaspora. The CCP has only been the ruling party of one country, the People’s Republic of China, for 71 years, and as a party with foreign (soviet) roots and a record of destroying the pillar of the country’s tradition, Confucianism, it doesn’t own a monopolistic say on how every Chinese should think and act—no matter how much it insists it does—or how everyone should think and speak about China and its people.

It isn’t qualified.

[scripturiends]

law school episode 9 musings

warning: very very long post ahead. i have a lot of thoughts.

hey folks — how we feeling about episode 9?

given that there are so many plotlines in the show, i’m afraid i won’t be able to extend my analysis of the episode as far as i would like, but there are three characters who stood out to me the most last night that i’d like to talk about for now:

kang dan

there’s a lot that we got to uncover about her thanks to professor yang’s trial. if i’m piecing it all together right, the basic summary of what led to her disappearance goes like this:

she was a volunteer for assemblyman ko’s campaign, but upon discovering that he was spreading fake news about his opposition, dan reported him to the authorities (i’m guessing not just the police but also the media) and became a whistleblower. assemblyman ko tried to buy her off with money, but she refused, so he attacked her where she’s most vulnerable instead — by using her family.

i’m not completely sure about this (please feel free to correct me!) but it’s either byeol is (1) the twins’ half-sister, or (2) their stepsister? it’s so hard to tell, especially since korean terms can get lost in translation in the process (i watch on netflix, if that helps). but anyway, sol and dan’s mom married someone who was abusing her, and in exchange for dan’s silence (and her fleeing), the husband signs a contract that he would stop hurting his wife.

so that’s the backbone of dan’s story. however, this still doesn’t answer a lot of things, like where seo byungju or lee manho fits into the equation, the whereabouts of their mom’s ex-husband, or why dan was sent into boston in the first place.

i usually don’t like theorizing, but i do have one: there is an ivy league school located just outside of boston — harvard. (it’s technically in cambridge but you know, i’m taking liberties here.) professor yang said in passing one episode that he thought he saw dan when he went to the school for a seminar or a talk or something. could it be that assemblyman ko offered her an education at a top school in exchange for her silence? it could explain why she gave it up all so easily. what if she took that topnotch education as a chance to prepare, so that when she came back, she had much stronger leverage to take assemblyman ko down, given the knowledge and network of connections she’ll have earned in that school?

the theory’s plausible but i might be overestimating assemblyman ko’s kindness — unless he’s insanely desperate, he might not give a damn about dan’s education. it actually benefits him more if she stayed uninformed, but still. let me know what you think about it.

yoo seungjae

in this episode, we learned a little bit more about how yoo seungjae was able to hack into the professors’ laptops, and they also confirmed some of our previous speculations about him: that his wife yujeong was an ob gyn, and so was he, and that they were trying for a baby. unfortunately, i find it all to be a bit lacking in substance. i was hoping we could get down to the nitty-gritty of why he did what he did.

i say this for one important reason: i don’t know about you guys, but i would never make such a stupid mistake in undergrad, let alone in law school. seungjae has gone to med school, so we know that he knows the repercussions of his actions. why would he go to such lengths? sure, he found an opening, he was tempted, and he took it. but he didn’t just do it once, he did it multiple times, and those offenses add up (hacking, stealing exam papers, and cheating). surely he must know that something like this can ruin careers even before they even start, and not only would he get kicked out of the school, he would also get blacklisted from the industry once he implicates himself. so we understand why he’s so hesitant to testify (especially now that his wife is pregnant).

but why did he do that in the first place? we could say he’s insecure about his skills, but he’s survived med school. how much harder could law school be for him? i just don’t think that the payoff is worth the risk. what must be so important for yoo seungjae to do all of this for? what does he get in return if he successfully pulls it off and gets straight As during his entire time in law school? who is he doing for?

i hope it runs deeper than just wanting a ‘good future’ for him and his wife and their baby or something — because he could just as easily do that as a doctor. there must be another reason he went into law.

still, though, and this is just a personal opinion, even if i did find out his entire backstory, there’s no way i could ever defend him. we see in the show how his guilt builds up (from observing how kang sol A studies so well, to his conversation with jeon yeseul in the hospital), but at this point there is no more excusing what he did. not that i ever condoned it in the first place.

we’re still in the dark about a lot of things regarding yoo seungjae. hopefully by the next episode, we get something. but until then, he is still a shady, shady man to me.

kang sol B

her screen time in this episode was short, but i still wanted to highlight her because she is pretty much a ticking time bomb.

she’s in a tight spot right now because even if she testifies about having seen the sugar packet, the prosecutor will just twist the argument by saying she colluded with a murderer just to cover up her plagiarism.

and now, seo jiho needs her help, probably for something related to his case with prosecutor jin. in exchange, she puts pressure on him to ‘confirm’ that she didn’t plagiarize in middle school, since they were schoolmates and rivals.

there may be more to this plagiarism issue than meets the eye. who knows, we might find out later on that she actually didn’t plagiarize? but given what i know now, i have no reason to believe that she didn’t. i don’t blame her specifically for that, seeing as she has to pay for the consequences for something that her awful mom forced her to do. but now that the mess has been made, i want to see how she cleans it up.

kang sol B is a very elusive character to me. the scary thing about her is that she’s on no one’s side but her own. and that’s why i think she’s a ticking time bomb.

~

bonus: han joonhwi

so that’s all i have for the serious stuff. as a bonus, i’d like to talk about han joonhwi and his four (4) children jeon yeseul, seo jiho, kang byeol, and min bokgi.

one of my friends brought up how it’s so funny how he’s somehow just at the right place at the right time all the time. this happened when he ran into kang sol A when she was looking for yeseul (i still think they were on the phone with each other beforehand but this is just my shipper self talking — truthfully, if the focus was shifted towards that phone call without divulging who it was, i have a feeling it might be more important later on), and when seo jiho confronted prosecutor jin. adding his elevator conversation with kang sol B, i think it just solidified what we already know: han joonhwi is a very compassionate person. but he doesn’t sacrifice his own personality just to appease them — he recognizes that these individuals have agency, and he’s just giving them the little push they need to make them realize what they need to do.

i also felt the need to bring up kang byeol. the show does such a good job of ensuring that all the solhwi scenes that we get, no matter how indulgent and “fanservice-y” they might seem, actually have a deeper purpose. again, i could go on and on about what each solhwi scene has actually contributed to the development of the plot, which is exactly why i love them so much! because all of their scenes are so meaningful. but anyway, it’s nice to see han joonhwi care so much for his, ehem, future sister-in-law.

and for min bokgi — this scene was so short, but i absolutely loved it so much (i tend to pay attention to the throwaway scenes): min bokgi is going off about how yoo seungjae is acting weird, and he says to joonhwi, “hyung, you should call him.” and joonhwi responds with, “sure. eat your food.” it’s such a fatherly thing to do and it’s such a great contrast to bokgi’s dynamic with sol A, with whom he’s so loud and vibrant, moods that both match their personalities, but with joonhwi, who is more subdued, he’s like a little kid in need of rescue from an older brother, or even a dad. ah, i love it so much. min bokgi is such an underrated character. i wish he had more screen time. (if he doesn’t get a central ep, well, you guys know where i’m going with this, right? it means i’ll give it to him myself.)

~

so that’s it for now! i’m sorry i went on rambling again, but if there’s anything noteworthy in this post that you think is worth discussing, please do tell! if there’s anything that you found thought-provoking in the episode that i didn’t get to touch up on, let me know as well!

i personally don’t make any theories about the overarching plot myself, seeing as by the time the new episode comes out, we get fed information that renders the theory useless. still, that doesn’t mean we should stop coming up with our own ideas. sometimes, the theories are more interesting than the canon itself.

[jedivszombie]

Okay gang, since there are a bunch of anons going fucking wild across the dash tonight about some joking posts about Mark Webber and Ann Neal - that were someone’s shocked reaction to the age difference between them. I thought it would be interesting to go on a little journey together. 

This little journey is the story of how Ann and Mark met, and will hopefully give you guys some insight as to why the ‘sexism’ and ‘ageism’ arguments you are currently using are bullshit - and why using these words in such a buzzword way actually is not the kind of critical thinking you think it is. And why this situation is more akin to a student and teacher starting a relationship - which I think we can all agree is not advisable, even if you don’t know why.

Below the cut is going to be a little discussion of Mark and Ann the early days; the reason the age difference is iffy at best and fucked up at worst; and, a little discussion about how these situations require nuance and the ways in which f1blr often likes to blow situations out of proportion. 

I have split it into three parts:

Mark and Ann: The Early Days (1994-1997)

Nuance, my old friend. Anon hate, my enemy. (tw: for racism here, be careful)

The pitfalls of discourse and the importance of looking after yourself.

A little disclaimer for you guys: I do not pretend to know anything about this relationship, other than what is readily available to learn about it from what they themselves have put out about it. I am just providing a timeline and some facts. Whatever conclusions you draw from it are your own.

Feel free to come for me if you so desire. 

Mark and Ann: The Early Days (1994-1997)

We start our story in Australia in February, 1994. Mark is competing in Australian Formula Ford Championship and Ann Neal is the new media and PR officer for the category. This is their first meeting. Just so we know what’s up here Mark was 17 at the time, and Ann was absolutely an adult (apparently there is a 13 year age gap, which may not sound like much but we will get onto that later, which makes her roughly 30 when they first met). 

Some key things to be aware of from this first meeting: 

Mark is 17, Ann is about 30. Mark is a young racer, Ann is the media and PR officer for the category he races in. 

In an excerpt from Aussie Grit, p. 57 to be exact, we get to find out what Ann had to say about the first time they met: 

“She thought I was a bit of a smart-arse when we first met. ‘But I liked how bold and cheeky he was,’ she says, ‘and how mature he seemed. When I asked someone how old he was, I was shocked when they said 17 – he was confident beyond his years.’”

In another excerpt from Aussie Grit, p. 61, Mark tells us other things Ann remembers about their first meeting:

“Ann remembers our first meeting and my opening remark about her being so important. She can even remember what I was wearing – a stripey green and red top, one of those United Colors of Benetton things – so that was pretty prophetic, as things turned out!” 

Now this may sound extremely cute to some of you, like they’re just having a normal ‘aww remember how we met’ moment. But let me please re-direct your attention back to the fact that Mark is 17 (and still not an adult yet if this is what you are gonna nitpick about) and Ann is very much an adult, in a position of power. 

So, a teenager makes a quip about how important you are and you commit to memory what he was wearing the day it happened? 

Now let’s bring in the first quote I put up there where Ann herself was recalling the first time they met. I would like to draw your attention to the following sentence: ‘and how mature he seemed. When I asked someone how old he was, I was shocked when they said 17 – he was confident beyond his years.’

Hmmmm, where have we all heard language like this used before? If, like me, you have some experience of adults trying to start inappropriate relationships with you as a teenager then you will be very familiar to this sort of language. The emphasis is on how mature he seemed, is what’s sticking out for me here tbh.

Now, if this had been a fleeting meeting, and they had met again a few years later, I would be more on board for whatever justification some of the anons have been trying to use. However, it wasn’t. 

Again from Aussie Grit, p.61:

“After that first meeting we kept in touch. My family sometimes met up with Ann and Luke for weekend get-togethers, and I ensured she got her motor-sport fixes by dragging all my old F1 tapes out. By way of revenge she would bring down all her British Formula Ford tapes for me.”

Oh cool, so she gained the trust of his family and Mark was hanging out with her son. This is so sweet Alexa, play Chosen Family by Rina Sawayama. Real talk though, again if this is how it had ended - with them just being family friends - then we would not be having this conversation. 

BUT, we all know how this little story ends so onwards we march. We shoot forward to late 1994, Mark has done okay in Formula Ford but his Dad is no longer able to fund him. SO, he turns to their old pal - the ever present and super helpful Ann, bless her heart - to try and drum up some sponsorship for Mark so he can race. 

Little background on why Ann was chosen to try and help with this, I’ll give you 3 guesses and only one of them is correct. Yes, that’s right, it’s her experience - which she has managed to get by being 30 and having a background in motorsports. She started out as a motorsport journo and ended up dealing with press and PR for Paul Warwick (Derek Warwick’s brother). In 1986 she started dealing with Johnny Herbert’s media before working for Formula Ford in Europe in 1991. 

Ann begrudgingly accepts and draws up plans with Mark, which leads him to a Yellow Pages sponsorship for his next season in Formula Ford, and beyond - how sweet, how nice, they are #winning! We stan teamwork besties! And Ann started working with Mark and his family to further his career. 

Ann had a plan for Mark, as outlined in Aussie Grit, p.69-70:

“By the end of 1995 Annie told me, in no uncertain terms, that – and I quote – I had to get my arse out of there. She didn’t just mean Australian Formula Ford, either: she meant Australia. She thought it was time for me to go and have a crack at some of the big guys, and she proposed to help me go about it in a serious, business-like way.

‘How the f#*k are you going to get to Formula 1 coming from Queanbeyan?’ Anyone who wants to trace my journey should start with a piece of paper that Ann drew up on 6 July 1995.”

So, now Ann has outlined her hopes for Mark and a glimmering career in motorsport. I would like us to know that at this point in time Mark was the ripe old age of 18, going on 19. 

In 1996 Ann and Mark moved properly to the UK so Mark could drive in the British Formula Ford Championship - at this point Mark is still 19. At this point he is living in the UK with Ann and her mother, and Ann’s son. 

So this is probably sounding pretty okay so far and sure it’s just a business relationship with a business set up, like no real cause for concern. But then we discover that this business relationship had turned into a relationship-relationship pretty damn fast. 

From the horses mouth himself, Aussie Grit, p.87:

“Back in England, Ann and I moved house to Aylesbury in Buckinghamshire, on the edge of motor sport’s equivalent of Silicon Valley. We had started out as teammates and friends on a mission but over time our friendship had deepened into something else. I enjoyed spending time with her and we felt entirely comfortable in each other’s company. Moving to England was a huge step for me and I think it was a case of us needing one another and that’s how the relationship was formed.”

Okay, okay, okay so I know at this point Mark is 19/20 he’s an adult right? He can make his own choices. But, can we please admit that at best it’s an iffy situation because of the position of power and authority she was in? In his life? For his career? 

There are a few other excerpts I found particularly interesting, about Mark’s family’s reaction (all from Aussie Grit, chapter 3):

“My parents came over to the UK in the English summer of 1997. While they were thrilled about how things were developing for me in racing, they’d been less thrilled by the romantic relationship that was developing between Annie and me....”  “...Annie was bitterly disappointed at my behaviour. Her plan to take me to the highest level of motor sport was starting to go horribly wrong, so she left Australia earlier than planned and headed back to Europe. My family arranged for Alan Docking to collect my belongings from the house we had been sharing and the one and only car Annie and I had at that stage...Campese Management told her that they had been instructed by the Webber family to terminate her role as my manager and that Campese Management would be taking over all aspects of my career, including the negotiation of my driving contracts.“

“While I knew Annie provided the support and guidance I needed in my racing career, I was missing her in so many other ways too. We were such a dynamic force in every sense; we could make things happen when we were together. We were teammates, soul mates, call it what you want.“

“As to Mum’s concern about our age difference, that has never been a factor for us. When we began to be more open about being together, perhaps the top end of the age gap shocked a few people. In those days people were less accepting of a big age difference between partners, especially when it’s our way round. It’s not such a big deal nowadays and it makes us laugh when so-called celebrities reveal they’re dating an older woman or younger man!“

While the Daily Mail is trash, the beginning of this video is very revealing to me - particularly Jackie Stewart’s comments from 00:12.

Obviously you can make up your own conclusions from all of this information, and I would once again like to point out that none of us - not me, not the anons, not you - actually know the nature of their relationship. They have been together for 24 years - good for them! Whatever they have going has obviously worked for them, this is not me trying to shit on that or anything, and I’m gonna be real I’m not the biggest Mark Webber fan. 

Nuance, my old friend. Anon hate, my enemy.

All I want to do is add some nuance to the conversation, an overview of the timeline, an understanding of what the facts are. So that some of those cowardly anons (or anon) can hop off their self-built thrones and get a grip. The sexism and ageism argument literally does not apply here, for all of the evidence and reasons listed above - if the situation was flipped we would still be calling it out. The only difference is you guys would probably be on board with it being called out. 

So Ann is a woman? So, what? Do you think she’s above reproach? You think one person’s 50 note post on this site is gonna rock the foundation of a relationship that has been 26 years in making? If you have answered yes to any of these questions then you are either: a) Mark Webber himself, or b) delusional as hell. You really think that responding by sending anon hate to a teenager, who btw only made a post calling out the age difference because she was shocked and had just discovered it, is the right way to go? 

You really think that sending me this message, attacking other people in such a vile and racist manner is okay?

So you don’t like Nehir and Sera? Good for you, go block them, if you follow them, unfollow them. Those options are free and readily available to you. 

For me, it’s so funny to see you hiding behind that little Anon mask spewing this vile shit. The commitment you have to proving that you are just a cowardly person with nothing better to do than rag on a bunch of different people for reblogging a post, that in the long run is not going to reach the people it’s about, is outstanding. I really hope you pat yourself on the back for this one. 

The pitfalls of discourse and the importance of looking after yourself.

There has definitely been a spate of ‘conversations’ that have been happening recently that have very much been straying into the land of discourse, over very small comments or posts. I think that some people need to remember that we’re all here for our own entertainment and as soon as it stops being fun - you are allowed to log off; you are allowed to block people; you are allowed to unfollow people. 

Sending anon hate is so counterproductive to whatever conversation you think you are starting or having with a person. Also guys, sometimes it’s not that deep - sometimes jokes are just jokes, sometimes someone finds out something they didn’t know about a driver or an ex-driver and they make a joke post about it. That does not give you the right to send them hate, or to make racist comments in other people’s asks. 

Sometimes these discussions require a debate and sometimes discourse can be good - but honestly? I’m worried about some of you guys, it is not healthy to get so angry at other people for the things they post on their blogs that you are not obligated to follow or interact with at all. 

I am also worried about people who turn every little thing into something discoursey. There are causes and issues to care about in this sport and community, for sure. But sometimes you also have to pick your battles - especially when I know a lot people in this community have fragile mental health. I do not say this to patronise any of you but to just provide a reminder that you do not need to engage with everything that makes your blood boil, and furthering some of these conversations sometimes is not doing you guys any good. Burnout is real. 

Please take some time to take care of yourselves, the pandemic is doing a number on all of us and I know being online gives you a gateway to being connected to people, but sometimes you just have to walk away from a discussion. Sometimes you have to just go and reblog something unrelated, or stare at a photo of your favourite driver, or listen to some angry music. Anything else to process your knee jerk reaction, to give yourself time to figure out how you feel about something and whether it’s worth engaging in or not.