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uvobreakmylegs · 4 years ago

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Right Place, Right Time

wanted to write something with a little more humor in it but there’s still dark shit because phantom troupe

Warnings: mentions of death

“There's trouble, boss.”

Phinks' voice cut through the chatter of the busy casino. Chrollo didn't look up at first, relaying a few more instructions to Shalnark via text. 'Trouble' wasn't unexpected; as much as Chrollo could plan ahead, human nature could be unpredictable and would usually cause a few bumps in the road when it came to their heists.

“What sort of trouble?” Chrollo asked as he pocketed the cellphone.

“A Zoldyck.”

Ah.... That was a bit more trouble than usual.

Chrollo's gaze followed that of Phinks and Shizuku. Looking down at them from a second balcony stood Illumi, his face devoid of emotion as the black void within his eyes took in the group.

The second Chrollo made eye contact with him, Illumi gestured to his left with a sharp jerk of his head before walking off in the same direction.

“Does he want to fight away from the guests?” Shizuku asked.

“Maybe,” said Chrollo. He began to walk in the direction Illumi had gone, signaling for Shizuku and Phinks to follow. The three of them walked up one of the staircases located to the side. Phinks pulled on the collar of his suit every so often, while Shizuku walked slightly slower due to the heels that she wasn't used to wearing. But Chrollo could sense that the two were anticipating a fight (Phinks likely ready to use it as an excuse to get out of the fancy suit he hated so much).

“But it may not come to a fight with him,” Chrollo told them.

“Don't the Zoldycks hate us?” Phinks asked.

“Silva hates me specifically,” Chrollo corrected, “but Illumi can be reasoned with.”

Phinks snorted a bit at that, but didn't say anything else. Shizuku then asked what Silva Zoldyck had done to the troupe, to which Phinks gave a brief summary of the incident that had happened years prior. A very brief summary, but he knew there was no point in getting into details since Shizuku would forget almost immediately; this wasn't even the first time she had asked.

Perhaps he should have expected that one of the Zoldycks would be present – it was the opening night for this particular high-end gambling hall. But with how stingy the owner had been rumored to be, he would have thought that the price of a Zoldyck assassin as a security guard would have been more than she was willing to spend.

If it was Zeno or Silva there would be no chance of ending things amicably: Zeno was dedicated to his work and wouldn't be moved by a bribe or any words that Chrollo could offer. And Chrollo and Silva shared a very mutual hatred of one another, so a fight would have been inevitable in that case.

But Illumi, while also just as dedicated to his family as his father and grandfather, could be convinced to stand down if Chrollo could name a good enough price and ensure that the Zoldyck name wouldn't be tarnished in any way. The Zoldycks successfully completed every job they took on, but they couldn't be held accountable if their client terminated the contract before they could complete it. It had happened once before, in an instance where a man had hired Illumi to assassinate Pakunoda. Illumi agreed to hold off on going through with the hit for a short while in exchange for twice the amount the man had paid him for and to allow the troupe the time needed to get to the client and release him from the contract.

Though it would be nicer to just get to Illumi's client and kill her off, there was no chance Illumi would allow them to do that while still under his contract. And Illumi would be happier if he was able to leave with twice the amount of jenny he had been promised.

Illumi was waiting at the end of a hall that had fewer people in it, pointedly looking at him before entering into what looked to be a darkened room. Chrollo pulled out his phone to text an order for the troupe to wait as he spoke to Phinks and Shizuku.

“You two wait out here,” he ordered.

Phinks looked as though he wanted to question him on that, but he held his tongue, crossing his arms as he gave a sharp nod in acknowledgment. If Shizuku felt that his actions were questionable, she didn't betray that fact to him.

Leaving the two of them behind, Chrollo made his way to the door Illumi had entered and pulled it open.

This room was darker than the rest of the casino, and without the electric lights that brightened the building and the bodies of the customers that increased the temperature with their own body heat, it was much cooler in the room as well.

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when they did, he saw that Illumi was leaning against a smaller circular table, toying with one of his needles as he watched Chrollo enter.

“I thought you didn't like the body-guarding jobs,” Chrollo said as the door behind him slowly swung shut.

“I owed my brother for his assistance on my last assignment,” Illumi explained, “so I'm filling in for him.”

Chrollo nodded, though he didn't particularly care all that much. Whatever the reason, the presence of a Zoldyck would hinder things. Best to get straight to the point.

“How much are you being paid for this job?” Chrollo asked.

Illumi's eyebrows raised slightly.

“You think you can pay me off?”

“It worked once before.”

“So it did,” Illumi conceded, “but it would start to look suspicious if I accepted your offer too many times, no? It would be a problem if people thought the Zoldycks could be bought out. Our reputation is everything.”

“Well, you can't help it if your client decides that your services aren't needed and lets you go, now can you?”

“Another inexplicable 'termination' with a job that involved the Phantom Troupe?” Illumi asked, “father was annoyed that I did that last time, though he was more annoyed that I took the job in the first place.”

Illumi sighed.

“But again, doing that too often would look strange, and I will not do anything to harm our business reputation.”

“Very few people knew about the previous hit on Pakunoda,” said Chrollo, “there would be few who would notice a particular pattern, and I think the two of us are both inclined to avoid an unnecessary fight if possible.”

“True. Killing you and the rest of your group would take some time. And it wouldn't be worth the amount that woman is offering. Really, she's low-balling us. I don't know what Milluki was thinking when he took this job. Didn't even make her pay upfront.”

“Then we can come to an agreement?” Chrollo asked.

Illumi closed his eyes in thought, his fingers still twirling around that needle. He was considering it.

Chrollo waited in silence. Trying to push Illumi to do one thing was unproductive and could possibly make him decide to fight after all, though he was certain that Illumi was already willing to take him up on the offer since the assassin hadn't sent his needles flying the second Chrollo walked in. Pulling out his phone, Chrollo checked the time: 8:54 PM. He had planned for this particular operation to begin at 9:15. The owner was part of a group that had begun to throttle the livelihood of Meteor City, and tonight she was the host of a party for that group that was taking place in the upper floors while celebrating the successful opening night of her casino. The main purpose was to send a message: kill the group and anyone else in the building so the rest of the world knew not to interfere with the business of his Meteor City. Whatever valuables they collected would just be bonuses for the troupe to divide amongst themselves.

Though Chrollo rarely went back to the city these days, it was beneficial for him if the city still existed. And though he would never admit it out loud, there was of that sentimental feeling of wanting to protect his old home, as harsh and cruel as it had been for him growing up.

Illumi opened his eyes and looked to Chrollo.

“3 billion and I'll leave.”

“That's quite a lot,” said Chrollo, “much more than I paid last time. Why such a steep increase?”

“So it's worth my while.”

Chrollo mulled it for a bit, checking his phone again: 8:57. He certainly had the funds to pay Illumi's price, but it did feel like he was being somewhat taken advantage of in this case. Still keeping an eye on Illumi, Chrollo couldn't help but notice that the assassin seemed to have something else on his mind that he was considering. Then, like he had come to a decision, he sat up a bit straighter as he addressed Chrollo again.

“There's one more thing,” Illumi said.

“Something more than 3 billion jenny, Illumi?”

“Just some time; give me four minutes before you start.”

Chrollo hummed. Illumi didn't need that much time to vacate a building like this. Was it an attempt to set some kind of trap? No, that was unlikely. It would be far too obvious and Illumi wouldn't go to such lengths unless he was being paid to do so. Still, he couldn't help but be a little curious as to what Illumi would need that time for.

“Why four minutes?”

“Personal reasons.”

Ah. He should have sensed something like that would be the answer.

“A lot can happen in even a single minute, Illumi. And you want four?”

“Four minutes is unreasonable?”

“Not enough to end this deal, but I may want you to lower your price a bit.”

“Are you trying to haggle with me?”

Illumi frowned a little when Chrollo smiled at him.

“Maybe just by 60 million or so,” Chrollo said.

“So you'd rather pay two billion, nine hundred and forty million?” Illumi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It's still more than you'll get if you keep your current contract, correct?”

Chrollo saw the corners of Illumi's mouth turn upwards ever so slightly, a small smirk on his face as he closed his eyes again and considered the offer.

“That's true. Even taking that out I'd still be much better off.”

Chrollo checked the time and found it to be 9:01 PM. If Illumi came to a decision soon the troupe's operation could still go as planned.

“Very well,” Illumi said after a moment of thought, “transfer me the money first.”

With a nod, Chrollo accessed one of his bank accounts through his phone, bringing up the necessary amount and transferring it to the account number Illumi gave him. Within a few minutes, the transaction was completed. Illumi seemed rather pleased with himself, Chrollo noted.

“Perhaps you should stay in here for a moment,” Chrollo said, “Shalnark is upstairs. I can order him to take control of the owner and have her officially fire you. Then there won't be any issues with your family, correct?”

“That won't be necessary,” Illumi answered.

“Oh?”

“I got fired before you got here.”

“..... Excuse me?”

There was a flat tone to Chrollo's voice that made Illumi chuckle as the latter continued “that woman felt like she was wasting her money, but she was pressured to hire one of the Zoldycks at the behest of her guests. Seems to me like she was looking for an excuse to get out of paying the full fee. Apparently I was 'unprofessional'. But I'm glad I caught sight of you, otherwise this evening would have been more of a loss for me.”

Chrollo said nothing at first. Illumi had been careful with his wording, Chrollo realized, and it hadn't occurred to him to ask if Illumi was still under contract.

The funds weren't that important to Chrollo, but he couldn't help but feel rather miffed. Had he known that the assassin was currently out of a job, there wouldn't have been a reason to pay a higher price than normal; Illumi would have been left between going home empty-handed or with whatever Chrollo would have been willing to give him.

But then again, how could he have anticipated that a Zoldyck would have gotten fired?

Realizing that he had been played, Chrollo checked his phone again: 9:07. At least they'd still be able to start on time.

“Your four minutes start now,” he said.

Nodding, Illumi stood from where he'd been leaning against the table. He made his way through the room, past Chrollo and to the door that lead to the hall where Phinks and Shizuku waited.

“Perhaps you could humor me,” Chrollo said as he walked by, “it shouldn't take you four minutes to exit a place like this. What exactly are those personal reasons?”

Illumi chuckled a bit as he placed his hand on the knob.

“I suppose you can see for yourself if you decide to watch me leave.”

With that, Illumi left, the door swinging shut.

Standing alone in the dark room, Chrollo wasn't sure what to make of Illumi's behavior. He was used to the assassin being more straight-forward. He was secretive, yes, but there was something about the way he had acted just now that seemed a bit more.... Playful.

Illumi and Hisoka had known each other before Chrollo had met the long-haired man, and the two had seemed like they were in frequent contact. Perhaps, Chrollo mused, some of Hisoka's less-than-ideal qualities were rubbing off on Illumi.

Phinks and Shizuku approached him immediately after he also exited the room.

“It looked like he was leaving,” Shizuku said, “were you able to talk him down?”

“Yes. It was more expensive than it needed to be, but he'll be leaving shortly,” Chrollo answered as he nodded at her.

“He required four minutes before we began, so we'll be able to stay on schedule,” he continued as he looked at his phone again. 9:08.

The two spiders nodded (though Phinks seemed somewhat disappointed to not have a chance to fight Illumi) and Chrollo updated the rest of the troupe. The three of them slowly began to walk back to the main hall before coming to a stop at one of the balcony's. Below them the crowd had only managed to have grow larger as more people had entered to try their luck in the new gambling hall. For the majority of the crowd it seemed to be more of a pastime as they looked more well-to-do, but there were a few individuals who already appeared to be reaching a point of desperation, sweating nervously while they looked to the indifferent dealers.

A grand clock at the top of the hall showed the time to be nearing 9:10, and they had yet to see Illumi leave the building.

“Why did he want four minutes?” Shizuku asked.

“He wouldn't say,” Chrollo answered her.

“Hm. I wonder what it was,” Shizuku said.

“It seems he wanted to collect some woman before we got started,” Phinks suddenly said.

“Huh?”

Both Chrollo and Shizuku looked to where Phinks was looking. Within the crowd they saw Illumi walking through, accompanied by you. He held your hand as he lead you through the throng of guests, and you were giggling at something he had said while you intertwined your fingers with his. Illumi smiled back at you as he continued to pull you forward.

It was not a sight Chrollo had anticipated, nor was he expecting to see the darkened marks on your neck when he squinted. Marks that could've been made by Illumi's mouth.

Remembering that Illumi had said he'd been terminated for being unprofessional, and suddenly the reason for his firing became clear.

“That's just a civilian, right?” Phinks asked, “what does he want with her?”

“I guess he doesn't want to leave her here to die,” said Shizuku, “that's sweet.”

Chrollo continued to watch as the two of you made it to the other end of the hall. When you were finally out of the crowd, you went to wrap your arm around the one that had been leading you, smiling up at him as you two continued your way to the entrance. There weren't many who could touch one of the Zoldycks like that and live to tell the tale. Phinks was most likely right in his assessment; you weren't anything special. You probably had no idea who the person was that you were so happily walking off with or how dangerous he was.

Illumi said something and smiled at you before the two of you began walking again, but Chrollo didn't miss the little warning glance the assassin had sent in his direction.

As Shizuku and Phinks talked amongst themselves on what all that was about, Chrollo found himself unsure of what to think of this particular turn of events.

Evidently to Illumi, you were worth at least 60 million jenny.

You had come to this event on behalf of your friend Kiki, who had been invited by her cousin who had wanted to spend a milestone birthday at the casino. Places like this had never done much for you; the odds were always stacked in favor of the house and you didn't want to lose your hard-earned cash by gambling it away. You only came to do a favor for your friend, and yet about an hour into the evening, she had left you to chat up someone at the bar, leaving you with a group of people you only vaguely knew in an even bigger sea of strangers. Most ignored you, but there was the occasional middle-aged man who would eye you up and make you feel uncomfortable enough that you felt like you needed to leave the general area.

And then you ran into him.

The handsome man with long black hair and dark eyes who'd been walking about. He caught your attention like he'd caught the attention of most of the people around him, though they had seemed more content to watch him and gossip about him from afar. Maybe it was because no one else was going for it, maybe it was because you were slightly jealous that Kiki had managed to find an actual date for the night, or maybe you were just tired of the gross older men that kept ogling you and you wanted to be able to enjoy yourself with someone that you were actually in to. Regardless of whatever it was that made you do it, you approached the man and asked if he wanted to get a drink with you.

He hadn't wanted any drinks, but your boldness had impressed him enough that he wanted to talk with you. In private. Leading you away from the crowd and noise, he took you to a staff-only hallway where he introduced himself as Illumi. You introduced yourself to him, and the two of you managed to hit it off, having a lengthy conversation that ended when he kissed you suddenly. It seemed like something that had been spur-of-the-moment for him, and he pulled away from you to ask if you had liked it. Your answer was to pull him back onto your lips.

Your make-out session had culminated in him pushing you against the wall while he sucked hickeys into the skin of your neck.

And then you got caught.

You were expecting that you'd both get kicked out, but Illumi had been asked to accompany some of the casino staff while you were taken back to the main hall. Being that they were more concerned about Illumi, they left you there while you tried to hide the marks Illumi had left behind. You hadn't been sure if you would see him again; you didn't realize that he'd been working for the casino, and you were worried that you had cost him his job.

So it was unexpected when he appeared before you and asked you to leave with him.

But you said 'yes' without any hesitation.

You slid into the backseat of the car that had pulled up, Illumi coming in after you.

“The Palazzo,” Illumi instructed the driver.

Wait....

“Isn't that the really expensive hotel on the riverfront?” you asked Illumi.

“Yes. I've been staying there,” he answered.

You were amazed that he had the cash to be able to stay at a place like that. Then worry hit you.

“I got you fired, didn't I? Are you sure that isn't an issue?”

With that same small smile you had seen several times now since he'd opened up to you, Illumi smiled back at you.

“I got a better payout leaving like I did than if I had stayed. So don't worry, there's no issue.”

That eased your worries a bit, and you settled yourself into the seat as the car began to pull forward. You glanced back at the illuminated casino as you drove off, and another pang of guilt hit you.

“What's wrong?” Illumi asked.

“I left my friend without telling her anything,” you said as you pulled out your phone, “I should text her about where I'm going.”

“Mm. Yes, that would be a good idea.”

Illumi's tone was always rather flat, so you didn't notice that he seemed slightly displeased as you messaged Kiki to let her know you had left. It seemed like she'd found her own date, so hopefully she wouldn't be too mad at you. It wasn't like she'd been left alone.

The instant you hit 'send', you turned your attention back to Illumi.

“Think she'll get it in time? The reception was a little spotty in some places,” you said.

“It was fine, but don't worry about that.”

With that, Illumi pulled you into his lap while you yelped. You wanted to protest, seeing as you two were in a moving vehicle and the driver could tell what the two of you were doing. Illumi held you securely, however, and when you looked to the front of the car, you found that a sheet of tinted glass now separated the front from the back. The driver must have been able to read the mood.

“Don't worry about what's going on back there,” Illumi told you, “from this point on, all I want for you to focus on is me.”

His order made you blush, and you shyly answered with an “okay” before his lips were on you.

The casino and the people inside it were the last things on your mind that night.

#yandere x reader #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #yandere #yandere hxh #yandere illumi #chrollo lucilfer #reader insert #yandere hunter x hunter #chrollo gets scammed #hope its not too dumb

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azucanela · 4 years ago

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THIS DIDN’T HAPPEN | TSUKISHIMA KEI

HAIKYUU!! MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: Tsukishima Kei would never admit that he happens to like receiving affection quite a bit, only from Y/N L/N of course, and only if no one ever finds out about it.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

WARNINGS: honestly i think this is cute, but theres some angst oops, pining, unedited, kissing, kinda sad if you can read between the lines, season three spoilers

A/N: tsukki lovers come get your juice. also if you can’t tell im in the mood for haikyuu!! and tsukki so... rip the wips and requests i said i’d get done but it’ll happen eventually

“Can I hug you?”

How did he end up here? A fantastic question that he cannot find the answer for as he looks down at Y/N, who’d insisted he walk her to the girl’s dorm. He probably should’ve predicted that she’d ask about his sudden change of pace, but Tsukishima doubted he ever would’ve predicted she’d ask to hug him. Especially since he definitely hadn’t been the nicest to her.

“This didn’t happen.”

That’s all Tsukishima says as he awkwardly winds his arms arounds Y/N’s form. She hums in response, and Y/N has a feeling if he could see the grin on her face he’d pull away almost immediately. Which is why she’d buried her face in his chest, arms around his body as they stand just outside dorms they’ve been residing in during their stay at the training camp alongside the other teams.

Tsukishima doesn’t know why he agreed to this. He’s not sure he wants to as he feels Y/N’s breath against his chest, causing his cheeks to warm. During the walk she’d confronted him and he’d— for some reason — told her that he didn’t intend to get left behind Hinata and Kageyama; who’d improved quite a bit it appeared. Even if Volleyball meant absolutely nothing to him.

And then she asked to hug him. Y/N just had a feeling he could use one, though, if she was honest, Y/N had expected a hard no. She’d expected him to criticize her for asking such a childish question, she’d expected teasing and cruel remarks about how ridiculous the idea was. Tsukishima had never been affectionate, or at least openly affectionate. He was never involved in team hugs, hugs in general, not even a simple fist bump from Tanaka.

And yet here he was, agreeing to a hug from Y/N L/N, one of the new managers of the Karasuno Volleyball Club.

“This didn’t happen.” Came her response, her words of agreement were muffled against Tsukishima’s chest, but he’d heard her. They had an understanding.

And he’d never admit it, but it was nice. Hugging someone. Holding someone in his arms. Tsukishima hadn’t actually accepted affection in a while, maybe it was because one of the only people he’d been close with in his life— the one person he looked up to — ended up being a liar. Maybe its because a small part of him wanted to maintain his reputation as a coldhearted jerk, or maybe its because he just hadn’t found someone’s affection he enjoyed.

Until now, of course. There was something different about having Y/N in his arms, something comforting about her presence that made him feel compelled to answer the questions she asked as she pried about his sudden change in attitude. It’s not like they were close, though he tolerated her when she’d simply started coming to club meeting; apparently she’d known Tanaka from middle school, and decided to visit him at the club, until one day it became a daily thing. They ended up giving her the title of manager after she to work alongside Kiyoko. Y/N had even helped tutor those idiots, Kageyama and Hinata, something Tsukishima somehow got roped into. After that, he had a newfound respect for the girl.

It wasn’t that he liked her. He would never like Y/N. She just helped manage the club, and Volleyball was just a sport. Besides, they’d never be that close again, never hug again, never exchange any affection at all, ever again.

He broke that promise fairly quickly.

Yamaguchi had insisted that he and Tsukishima start joining the rest of the team on their walk home, mentioning how they could stop by Ukai’s convenience store and pick up some food if they so pleased. And maybe that was what convinced him— though Yamaguchi had a feeling the mention of Y/N’s name had a little bit of influence on the decision as well — maybe not.

It didn’t take long for Tsukishima to realize that as everyone slowly branched off into their respective neighborhoods, Y/N had yet to do the same. Apparently she lived the farthest from Karasuno of the bunch, which is why Tanaka had tried to offer to walk her home.

She’d rejected the idea entirely, seeing as he’d have to walk back home in the dark by the time she’d gotten to her home. The idea didn’t sit right with Y/N, so Tanaka had left Yamaguchi, Tsukishima and Y/N on their own.

Y/N didn’t miss the look Yamaguchi gave Tsukishima as he remained by her side, tilting her head in confusion and the blonde waved his friend off and continued walking alongside Y/N. She decided it was best not to question it, they were already a questionable pair of friends and Y/N wouldn’t be shocked if they had some sort of secret code they communicated through.

When she suggested this of course, Tsukishima called her an idiot.

“That’s not very nice, Tsukki.”

If Tsukishima was honest he should’ve kept walking alongside Yamaguchi a while ago, and yet here he was, alongside Y/N. He was pretty grateful she had yet to mention it, especially since he didn’t really favor lying, and he didn’t really have an explanation as to why he decided to walk her home.

It just felt right.

“Well it’s a stupid idea.” Came his response, nose scrunching up at the nickname. Only Yamaguchi called him that, not that he had a problem with Y/N using the nickname as well.

Y/N raised a brow, “I don’t think so, you’re smart enough to make a secret code or something.” A smile found its way onto her face as she looked over to him, playfully bumping into his side as she continued, “you probably use it to write about conspiracy theories or something.”

“I’m not a conspiracy theorist, Y/N.” He side eyes the girl, scoffing at her words as he pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose in an attempt to distract from the warmth that flooded his chest.

Y/N hummed in reply, looking to him as she asked, “so you don’t believe that lizard people run society?”

Tsukishima’s brows furrowed as he looked to her incredulously, “absolutely not.”

“Sounds like something a lizard person would say.” Came her reply, a grin on her face as she came to a stop, likely in front of her home.

“Did you just suggest that I’m a lizard person?”

“Maybe.”

There was no way he liked Y/N L/N. In that moment, he made another promise to himself, Tsukishima Kei swore he would never like Y/N L/N, someone who was apparently a lizard person fanatic and insisted that he was a conspiracy theorist.

A silence encompasses the two as Y/N looks up at him curiously, eyes falling over his face as a small hum leaves her lips. Tsukishima doesn’t know why exactly he lets it happen, why he lets her gently grab his chin, bringing him close to press a kiss to his cheek, “thanks for walking me home, Tsukki.” When she releases his face, she turns on her heel, heading toward her door, but not before saying, “try not to get home too late, and text Yamaguchi— he’s probably worried about you.”

Okay, so maybe he would break this promise faster than last time.

“This didn’t happen.” He manages to call out to her, watching as she makes her way down the cobblestone path to her front door.

Y/N looks over her shoulder, a smirk on her face as she offers him a wave, “this didn’t happen!” She called back in agreement, stepping inside her home and shutting the door behind him.

A lot faster than last time.

He has no idea why he didn’t stop her the first time, when she asked. And he doesn’t know why he didn’t stop her now, or the next time, or the time after that. Tsukishima probably should’ve known better, he should’ve stopped indulging himself with her presence.

And yet sitting on his bed, lying on his side watching her, he knows there was no stopping this. Y/N is smirking, clearly noticing his gaze on her as she continues to silently read from her textbook, writing things down into her notebook on occasion. He almost gets frustrated at the sight, brows furrowing before he returns his eyes to his own textbook

Tsukishima probably would’ve finished a while ago had it not been for her, it’s not that Y/N had done anything, but her presence only served as a distraction at this point, leaving Tsukishima wondering just why he invited her. He can’t remember the reasoning behind his actions, but he has a feeling it wasn’t worth the lack of productivity that came with her visit.

“Have you done anything?”

As much as Tsukishima admired how observant Y/N was, he currently despised this trait of hers as he slammed the textbook shut, “yes.” It was a lie, Tsukishima had never been so unproductive in his life, and he hated it. He hated everything about this stupid project, especially the fact that she was his partner.

A laugh escaped her, earning a glare from Tsukishima, “you’re so scary.” She says, though its clear she’s teasing him as she comes to pat his cheek condescendingly, accompanied by a mocking tone and an annoying smirk.

“Whatever.” He grumbles, tossing the textbook off the bed before falling back against his bed.

Y/N hums, eyes falling over his figure as she nods to herself. “I see.”

Tsukishima scoffs at her words, lifting his head up to meet her gaze with a glare, “see what?”

Her grin only widens at his words as she shuts her own textbook, placing it on the nightstand beside her alongside her notebook before allowing herself to collapse into Tsukishima’s pillows. “You’re grumpy—” She turns to her side, lifting her arm up, “because you want a hug.”

Tsukishima looks at her incredulously, rolling his eyes as he brings his hands to his face, causing Y/N to lower her arm as she pouts. “You’re stupid.” He mumbles, watching her push up onto her elbows.

“And you’re a touch-starved grump.” Comes her reply, prying his hands form his forehead to gently remove his glasses, reaching over him to place it on the other nightstand before returning to her side of the bed. She lifts her arm once more, looking to Tsukishima expectantly.

He inhales deeply, looking away in an attempt to maintain some of his pride when he feels his cheeks redden. “We have work to do.”

“The project isn’t due for another two weeks, Kei.”

Tsukishima finds himself trying to glare at her, though it fails when he realizes she’s said his first name and he can’t bring himself to be upset anymore, simply saying, “this didn’t happen.” Before his arms come around her waist, Y/N’s arm that was once hovering above her now wrapped around his neck as she pulled him closer. Her other hand coming to tangle her fingers in his hair.

“This didn’t happen.” She repeated.

That day, he promises that the next time they meet, they’re actually going to get work done. He breaks this promise too, quickly realizing that this is a theme whenever the promises are related to Y/N.

Tsukishima doesn’t really realize that he’s in too deep until the day his lips crash against hers and he finds himself whispering those damned words once more, “this didn’t happen.” His hands running down her sides as he tries to pull her closer because whenever he’s around her that cold that plagues him day and night seems to fade, replaced the warmth she seems radiate as though she’s the sun.

He hates that he compares her to the sun, he hates that she’s become something he needs, a presence he craves, because Y/N L/N was meant to be nobody and now she seems to be one of the most important people in his life. He hates that she understands him, that she can read his every move better than he can, that she knows what he needs before he even says it.

He doesn’t realize he’s in too deep until he’s promising himself not to fall in love.

Because for the first time in a while, Tsukishima Kei wants nothing more than to touch, he wants to feel, even though he’s filled with fear of the unknown, fear of the feelings he so desperately wanted to avoid. For once in his life, he wants to let go, because he finally feels comfortable enough to do so.

This time all she says is, “I know.”

Because Y/N knows that falling for Tsukishima was a mistake, a big one. She’s well aware of the fact that the boy is emotionally unavailable and renowned for his rude attitude and crude remarks. She knows that even if they have these silent moments together, even if she’s held him in her arms at night, even if they’ve been closer than she’s even been with anyone else, this basically means nothing. Because its not like either of them would ever do anything about the fact that the few words they did share in moments like these, weren’t ones of denial that the moments didn’t happen, but something else entirely at this point.

Confessions in their own right.

But she knows that all she’ll ever be, is something that didn’t happen. Not a story of his first love, not the girl he talks about with his friends, not the one he thinks about, the one he saw in everyday life. She was nobody, because she didn’t happen.

She doesn’t know that she’s wrong. Very wrong. That Tsukishima spoke fondly of her— honestly, Yamaguchi loves Y/N, he really does, but he’d getting a bit tired of hearing about how the mundane things she does that Tsukishima happens to notice. That he thought of her frequently, that the smell of coffee reminded him of her now, that the sight of the sunset she fawned over every time they walked home together only served as a reminder of her.

It’s not until he’s crying out in victory because they beat Shiratorizawa, Karasuno won, he won. It’s not until he’s so overwhelmed with emotion that he finds his legs moving on their own, towards Y/N; who stands beside Ukai and Takeda, the pair had taken to screaming at each other in the midst of their excitement. It’s not until his hands are on her face, bringing her into a kiss, much to her surprise, that he realizes what exactly the warmth was.

“This didn’t happen?” She asks, trying her hardest to ignore the stares of the team—though many of them are still caught up in their own celebration— as she looks to him.

Tsukishima simply grins, “I didn’t say that.”

A/N: kei is my favorite person to write for and i cannot explain why and this has not been edited so oops

tags: @beifongsss @shawkneecaps @iwaizoom @therainroguefanfiction

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5sosxqueen · 2 years ago

Text

Luke Sick And They Don't Believe Him

< Part 1 , ~Part 2~ , Part 3 >

Fun fact: I hate the members calling each other "babe" or anything of the like now. The thought of it just makes me cringe. The only time I can see it and I don't feel strange about it is if I portray them to be in relationships with the other. Yes, that is in my fics at a later time.

Warnings: depictions of illness, awkward pet names, and some serious secondhand embarrassment

Written in 2018

Word Count: 1785

Updates are every Tuesdays and Thursdays

Also Available on Wattpad and AO3!!!

Part 2:

Michael's p.o.v:

After Matt told us that Luke but still have to do the concert we were all beyond pissed. Management can seriously be utter dicks at times. More often than not, we hate them to be honest. Ashton and I felt so guilty about not believing him and thinking he was faking the entire time. If I could take it all back I would. I was the one that started it so I offered to take care of him since he got so sick.

After a thankfully unproductive car ride, Luke and I filed onto the bus. "Luke, bud do you want to take a quick shower before getting ready for tonight or do you think there would be no point?" I asked him.

"I don't think there would be a point in doing that just yet. I still feel pukey. I want to make sure I pretty much have it all out of my system, or at least attempt to, before getting ready. Well, hopefully I don't end up puking again. I just hope I don't end up getting sick on stage or even during the concert for that matter." He said sitting on the couch with an arm protectively around his stomach.

"Do you want to lay down for a little while? I can get you a bucket. I'm going to get you something to drink whether you say you want it or not. You need to keep up your fluid intake so you don't become dehydrated and that's if you aren't already."

"That would be nice. Thank you Michael. By the way what you said and the way you acted this morning was cruel and hateful, but I completely forgive you. I know how stressful stuff like this can be. Love you." I felt so guilty and upon hearing that my eyes welled up with tears. I quickly covered my mouth in an attempt to muffle a sob. I gently wrapped Luke in a tight hug as I cried.

"I cannot tell you this enough. I am so sorry. I should not have acted like that nor told you that you were faking. You have never once done that I should not- I'm just so sorry Luke. Thank you for being so caring and understanding and willing to put up with my bullshit. I love you so much!" I sobbed out. "Now I'm going to get stuff to take care of you, so lay down get comfy and I will be back." I walked into the kitchen and grabbed the designated sick bucket, wiping the, still dropping, tears from my eyes. I grabbed a water bottle and walked back into the living room. Luke was now laying down in a fetal position with his arms tightly around his middle.

He heard me come in and quickly propped himself up, with one hand covering his mouth, the other reaching for the bucket. I ran over to him and held it under his chin. The poor lad didn't even have to heave for whatever vomit was left in his stomach to pour out his mouth, with a sickening splatter onto the plastic bottom of the bucket. It wasn't a lot considering he had emptied it around an hour prior. After about 10 minutes of him heavily panting over the bucket, I asked if he was done and he shrugged.

"I think so. I'm not 100% sure though." I nodded, considering he said something very similar before getting into the van. We now had less than 4 hours to go until the concert.

"Here buddy rinse your mouth out. Try not to swallow it though it could be nasty. I've unfortunately done that before." He took the water gratefully and busted out laughing at what I said.

He lightly smacked my arm before practically yelling "Damn you Michael! Don't make me laugh. It makes me feel sick again." I chuckled out a sorry.

"Do you think you could handle taking some medicine?" I looked down at him waited a few seconds before he cocked his head slightly held up his finger. He hicurped and leaned over the bucket spitting bile into it.

"I can try, but you know there's no guarantees." I nodded and got up to get the medicine. I brought back the stomach relaxers and open up his water bottle for him and handed them to him. He took them and 15 minutes later he was back wretching over the bucket. This process repeated until Matt walked on the bus and told us we have to get ready. We quickly got ready and left the bus and got to the stadium we were playing at tonight.

It's nearing the time of our concert and all of us are very concerned. We have to do a quick sound check before the concert and we're going to try our best to help Luke feel better before hand. His symptoms are not letting up no matter how medicated he is because he just throws it back up. We have no idea how Luke is going to get through this concert mostly because he can't even stand on his own. Luke has been sick almost non stop all day.

Luke's p.o.v:

"Luke, okay, management made sure that there will be a bin at all times next to the stage. They wanted me to let you know that if at any point you need to get off, just go. They also apologized that they couldn't get you out of this tonight." Matt told me. I furrowed my brow and nodded not currently trusting myself to open my mouth. "You ok?" I shook my head and placed my hand over my mouth. As weird as it seems, I memorized the places of the bins in the room upon entering. I gagged and ran over to the one next to the table in the room only bringing up a little bile. "Shit..." Matt walked over to me and rubbed my back as I dry heaved. "Boys get ready to head out I'll send him out when he's ready." I looked a deep breath and stood up.

"I'm good. I can go out. Sorry about that and thank you for letting me know what management did and said." And with that I walked out with the boys onto the stage.

To my surprise, there was a stool in the middle of the stage, where my spot is, that was also set up by management. I went and sat down on it and so far the audience was completely oblivious to my situation.

"Now before we begin, I would like to bring up that Luke is actually really sick, he's been throwing up nearly all day and we apologize if at any moment he needs to run off stage." Micheal said learning a a ton of awes and feel betters from the audience.

"Thanks guys... It means a lot. Fingers crossed that I don't have to run out tonight. I don't want to abandon y'all." I heard a lot of you won'ts and it's oks. "I'm sorry in advance if I do have to though. Ok let's get this started!"

We started off the night with Jet Black Heart. I managed to get through that song without any problems, but by the time Waste the Night started my stomach was flipping yet again. Started sweating slightly causing myself to shiver and took off my guitar and set it down, quickly running off the stage with my band planted over my mouth. Ashton, having a somewhat similar voice to mine, ended up taking over my parts in my absence.

Just as promised find management from Matt, there was a pre-placed bin. I launched myself forward clutching the large bin. I heaved for about 5 minutes and the rest of the band decided to distract the audience. They did not want to start another song without me there. Once I felt ready to come back, once again the audience awes at me. "Sorry about that guys. I'm still going to try to sing for you tonight." I rasped out to the best if my abilities.

"Jeez, your voice is practically nonexistent buddy." Calum said worridly.

"Mmmm. Ya I'll be back..." I said feeling last nights dinner rushing up my throat yet again. Only this time much quicker... I hadn't put my guitar back on so all I had to do was run off. I got about halfway there, but to my horror I couldn't make it I held my hand over my mouth as I heaved, vomit falling into my hand. I turned from the audience and dropped to my knees. I shot forward with I violent gag bringing up a lot. I was so embarrassed when I heard mixed screams and what sounded like crying. I wanted to both run off and apologize. I have never been so ashamed. All the boys and the stage crew ran up to me. They let me finish before helping me up. Matt went onto the stage as they helped me up.

"We are so sorry. Luke extends his apologies. We do need to end the show early tonight. Everyone that is here tonight you are welcome to come back in a couple days, as we will be holding a concert to make up for this one." He explained.

Once I was backstage I couldn't stop the tears from flowing... "I ruined the concert. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry... They going to hate me... God they probably do..."

Aston pulled me into his embrace. "No honey they don't hate you nor will they ever. You didn't ruin anything. They were informed in the beginning that you were ill. Luke, it's ok babe, calm down." They boys all held me until my tears were dry. They ended up on the ground at some point and I felt my eyes drooping closed. I was in that awkward half asleep state when I felt someone pick me up and lay me on the couch.

Ashton's p.o.v:

Luke was a complete mess once he was off the stage. He was in complete hysterics. The boys and I just held him until he fell asleep.

Why we're in no hurry to leave since we were supposed to be here for a couple hours anyways.

Matt walked into the room an hour layer to check him. "How is he?"

"Asleep for now. This whole thing really took a toll on him. Poor thing." Michael said.

"Let's get him on the bus guys." Calum said gently picking Luke up. I grabbed the while Michael prepped the bus yet again.

Hopefully Luke will feel better when he wakes up...

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin #emeto #calum 5sos #vomit sickfics #ashton 5sos #michael 5sos

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kanmom51 · 4 years ago

Note

Displaced anger is a phenomenon that happens in almost any situation. For example, people whose full-time jobs don’t pay enough getting mad at people who use unemployment benefits, when they should be mad at corporations who refuse to a living wage while exploiting workers for massive profit.

I see the same thing happening here. People see the hate, and it’s upsetting, and they should be angry at the people hating. It should be simple. But instead, the anger gets placed on Jimin, Jungkook, or both. It’s “why won’t they just change their behavior so it stops” or “how dare Jungkook act like this and direct hate Jimin’s way!” These are illogical and don’t actually address the problem. They blame the victim, rather than the root cause. It’s sad and unproductive. And honestly it is very apparent that these people have given NO THOUGHT to what it’s like to be that famous and try to be true to yourself while millions of people read into everything you do and have cruel opinions on it. They don’t owe y’all that, and it’s entitled, myopic, and incredibly juvenile to think they do.

Oh so true!!!

#ask #anon

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nagichi-boop · 3 years ago

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Ways me & Sakurai Haruka are similar

I want to do another one of these because I realised I relate to Haruka a lot. I’ve also tried to make all of the points quotes from Haruka because I thought it would be ✨ sPiCy ✨.

TW // Mental illness, emotional neglect, family issues(?)

1. ‘I wanted to be a pitied and loved weakling’

The biggest issue that Haruka has is the feeling of not being loved. In his interrogation answer to question one about his biggest wish, he says he wishes to be loved by someone. He also later says his ideal type would be someone who cared for him and such. Also, when being interviewed by Es, he smiles when they say they won’t abandon him. Es finds this weird, but given the fact Haruka has been starved of love all his life, his reaction makes sense to me.

I don’t really feel loved or even worthy of love. Do I yearn to be loved? More than anything. But I have a deep rooted belief that such a thing is impossible for me. And if people say nice things than me, I assume they’re being polite or are trying to get something from me because I really can’t understand why someone would love me (platonically or romantically).

2. ‘Please notice me’

While it’s not been confirmed, a widely held belief is that Haruka killed his brother because his brother received love and attention and Haruka did not.

I feel as though no one cares about me or notices my pain. I’ve often felt like doing something extreme just to get people to notice me (though murder isn’t one of them). When I had my surgery a few months ago, people finally paid attention to me and were kind to me and I finally felt like I was cared about. But not long afterwards that wore off and all the pain and neglect I felt before returned.

3. ‘It’s my fault, right?’

Both me and Haruka have this deep rooted belief that everything is our fault. When Haruka was being interrogated, he continually apologised, which is a habit I also have. He even believes that he shouldn’t be allowed to say anything negative about any of the inmates because he feels as though he’s in no position to hate anyone. Even with people who have really hurt me, I find it really difficult to go as far as to say I hate them. I don’t feel like I deserve to. After all, it’s my fault, right?

It feels like every bad thing that’s happened to me was my fault. Being abandoned by all my friends? My fault. My family being cruel to me? My fault. My mental illnesses? My fault.

4. ‘I’m a “disappointment”’

Haruka believes he is a disappointment. He mentions this idea several times in his first trial song and also mentions how his father is probably disappointed in him in his interrogation answers.

I feel like everyone is disappointed in me. Both of my brothers work, one of which is married. Both of them have friends and go out often. On the other hand, I mostly spend my days being unproductive, I am currently signed off of work and don’t really have friends.

5. ‘I’m not good with them. Children at that age.’

Children make me uncomfortable. No, I won’t elaborate. :)

6. ‘Bringing misfortune to people is the only thing I’m naturally good at.’

I don’t have much to say on this point, but I feel like people shouldn’t try and get close to me, so I tend to put an emotional wall up (whether intentional or not). I feel like I’m a flower with thorns - anyone who tries to get close to me will be hurt, even if I don’t mean to hurt them.

6. ‘I’m sorry…for just talking by myself.’

Again, not much to say, but once I get talking, I tend to talk too much. If anyone has ever had the misfortune of being on the receiving end, they’re likely used to me also constantly apologising for talking too much.

Also, not sure if this 100% fits into this point, but both me and Haruka have a lot of difficulty knowing how to do social interactions correctly. We both tend to get very nervous and stutter a lot, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t capable of being talkative. We just sorta feel guilty when we catch ourselves doing it.

7. ‘I’m…gonna be abandoned, that’s bound to happen.’

Ahh, the undiagnosed bpd in me is singing. /j

But in all seriousness, it seems to be a pattern in my life that anyone I get close to leaves me. My childhood friend group kinda abandoned me when I revealed I was struggling with my mental health (though they were already kinda awkward around me cuz my social skills aren’t the best, hello undiagnosed neurodivergency). When that happened, I turned to my crush and he also abandoned me in a manner of speaking. I was alone for years. Another friend that I had also abandoned me a few years ago.

I get that most of these probably didn’t have to do with me specifically. The friend group just didn’t click with me, my crush didn’t like texting (and we lived far apart so that’s the only way we could talk) and my other friend was struggling with her own mental health issues. But it just…sucks. I still blame myself for not being a likeable person. It just seems to be a pattern that no one stays with me. They always leave at some point. I haven’t had a consistent friend…ever.

Haruka doesn’t want to get close to anyone for a similar reason to me. What’s the point of getting close to someone and being abandoned? It just seems better and safer to stay lonely that be constantly hurt.

- x -

Might add some more stuff as more stuff is revealed about him, but my brain is dying. I know this was self indulgent, but sometimes you gotta self indulge, right?

[Sources]

1. Weekness [First Trial MV]

2. Haruka’s First Trial Voice Drama

3. Interrogation answers (please look at the ‘interrogatory answers’ tag to see them all)

#milgram experiment #milgram #sakurai haruka #haruka sakurai #nagichi talks

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lilydalexf · 4 years ago

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Elizabeth Rowandale

Elizabeth Rowandale has 16 stories at Gossamer spanning from 1995 to 2012, plus she has more at AO3 (other fandoms too). She's been giftng the fandom with stories for a long time! I've talked about some of my favorites of her stories before, including Hallways and Water's Edge. Big thanks to Elizabeth for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Yes and no. When I find myself suddenly caught up in a fandom that has already lived its glory days (which happens a lot, I'm habitually late to the party), I am always ravenous for fic written during the original run - it always has a different perspective and voice and it's like a little bit of the experience captured in time -- so I can understand how others would be interested in my past. That said, some of my early stuff is pretty awful. LOL. I have left it online for two reasons: 1. Nostalgia, 2. I know there are some fics I've read in my life that may not have been the best written in a literary sense, but just had something magical about them that fed exactly what I needed. And I would hate it if the author took down that work and I could never find it again (which has happened). So I try to respect that same sentiment should it appear in one of my readers. I'd say by about 6th or 7th season of the original run, my work became presentable. :) My largest X-Files work ("Water's Edge") was begun during the original run and completed about a year after the show ended. That one I definitely still claim as my work, even though there's certainly stuff I would fix if I were writing it now.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

So many things! Let's start with my husband. :D I met the love of my life on the X-Files newsgroup in spring of 1995. We were married a year later, and we are still married 24 years later and have a 20 year old daughter. One of the most important friendships of my life came from being part of this fandom - she began as an "Edgehead" during the original posting of "Water's Edge". The fandom brought me my family, friends, and made me believe in myself as a writer and, in some ways, as a person worth being friends with, for the first time in my life. It's kind of crazy, really, how different my life would be without it. The experience was not without its flaws. There was a lot of judgementalism, a lot of cliquishness, a lot of snobbery. I was condemned almost as much as I was welcomed. But in the end it was all worth the life experience.

As far as the fic itself, X-Files was my first real experience with fanfic, and it thoroughly spoiled me for all other fandoms forever, because the sheer VOLUME of professional quality work being put out there was mind-boggling. I expected all fandoms to be like this, and the fact is this is extremely rare and precious. I think I could read X-Files fic for the rest of my life and never run out of pieces worth reading.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

I started out primarily on a.t.x.c.. Then progressed to mailing lists (especially Scullyfic/E-muse!), and later was very involved on The Haven. The Haven was quite a magical experience.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

I think I answered this by over-babbling on the question above. :D But ultimately, I think I would have to say my belief in literature as a tool to connect people on an intimate level that almost nothing else can. To give people a brief moment of sharing their precious internal worlds and inviting someone else to step into it with them.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

Really, it was inevitable. It has all the classic tropes that have always spoken to me - Supernatural horror, law enforcement partners, partner UST, misfits as heroes, haunting soundtrack. But amusingly enough, my first impression of it was negative. My mother and I had been religiously watching "Sightings", a FOX reality show (before "reality shows" were a thing) on the supernatural. Then that got cancelled and they replaced it with some show that was about fictionalized encounters with and investigations of the paranormal. And we were like WTF we don't want that, we want real investigations and evidence! So I didn't watch it out of protest. :D Then one night I stumbled upon it when I had nothing to do and watched "Lazarus". I thought the show was okay, but that I could never really get invested in it because there was no real chemistry between Mulder and Scully (yes, you can laugh me out of the room now :D). But the thing is, you can't FIND the significant moments in that episode unless you're already embroiled in their world. Like when Mulder calls her "Dana" on the phone and we all know he's panicking big time -- this was my first episode, so I assumed he always called her Dana, no big. Some time passed, then I saw Conduit. And Tooms. And I started to get really sucked in. Then I saw Genderbender. Now, if you know me at all, you know since I was about 6 years old, my life has revolved around my current muse. I get obsessed with a certain actress/performer/character, and that becomes my lens for the whole world (yes, at 6 it was Lynda Carter as Diana Prince). I have always moved from one Muse to the next, and the few times I've been without a focus person I'm very untethered and unproductive. So, I'd been in one of my longest dry spells following my Madonna and Vivien Leigh obsessions, mostly focusing on reading Dean Koontz books, when X-Files came along. And this obsession was unique in that I can actually pinpoint the moment I fell. I was sitting in my bedroom watching Genderbender, and they were outside the general store and Scully had just been touched by Brother Andrew and was a little tripped out and staring after the horse and cart when Mulder stepped up to see if she was okay, and...I actually felt myself falling for Gillian Anderson. And there was this moment of both elation and bittersweetness, because I knew how all-consuming my obsessions could be and the emotional rollercoaster they could entail (especially when I was younger, I'm a little better armored now :)). But I have no control over when and where they hit. But I knew by the end of that episode that I was off on another wild ride of the muse. :)

So, the short answer is -- Gillian Anderson. :D

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

Truthfully, I can't experience anything without writing fanfic in my head. I've been doing it in one form or another my whole life, I just didn't know until the X-Files (and the internet) how many other people were like me!! I started writing X-Files fic before I was even online. In fact, The X-Files was the reason I got my first internet service - because the fandom was moving online and I didn't want to miss out. I read my first fanfic in the Unofficial X-Files Fanclub monthly zine and it fascinated me. I wrote my first X-Files fic, a first season story called "Silent Lines", before I had ever been on the internet, and I had it published in that same fanclub newsletter. (I was already writing original fiction, hoping to make writing my career). Later, after I had joined the internet XF community, I wrote a post-ep to "Irresistible" that I posted online. That was my first online fic. Some time after (and a few more fics down the road) when all the rights to "Silent Lines" had reverted to me, I posted that online as well.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I dabble now and then. :) When the reboot came about, I came back to the old stomping grounds and reconnected with some of the Old Guard. I still have a fair amount of pretty Mulder and Scully on my Twitter feed, and I continue to follow all Gillian Anderson's new projects. But it's not my primary focus at the moment. (My serial monogamist muse has another lover this year. :))

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Several (Stargate, Sanctuary, Xena, Battlestar Galactica, Once Upon a Time, etc.). As I mentioned before, almost none of them had anywhere NEAR the quality and quantity of fanfic The X-Files has to offer. The closest I experienced was the Xena fandom. There are some AMAZING Uber fics and Conqueror fics, many of which went on to be published as original novels. ��Some fandoms were colder and more cruel than The X-Files. Some were warmer and more generous. I was most prolific during my years in the Stargate fandom. I wrote something like 80 fics. It was crazy. I don't think I'll ever be that prolific again.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Just from anything? From television Dana Scully, Stella Gibson, Laura Roslin, Sharon Raydor, Regina Mills. I love powerful women with scars. Kind women at heart who will fight for what they believe in and whom they love. Mothers - whether in actuality or at heart. I love women who prove strength and power can be completely synonymous with femininity.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

A couple of months ago my husband and daughter and I finished a complete X-Files rewatch (original series and movies), taking our daughter through it for the first time. It was awesome to re-experience it all through her eyes. She grew up hearing about it, but had never seen more than a handful of episodes (and, sadly, the reboot LOL).

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

Every now and then I indulge in X-Files fic, yes. Sometimes new stuff, most often revisiting old favorites.

I definitely read in my current fandoms. For a few years I didn't, but lately I've been at it again. Right now my primary muse is Mary McDonnell, so I'm obsessing over her various roles through the years. Been reading fic for "Major Crimes", "Dances with Wolves", "Battlstar Galactica", "Passion Fish", and "ER" (specifically pertaining to Eleanor Carter).

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Of course. :) Mish's "No Quarter Given" will always own my soul. [Lilydale note: It’s a 3-part story: 1, 2, 3.] "Black Hole Season" by Penumbra, "Above Rubies" by Rachel Howard, "Blinded by White Light" by DashaK, "Sounds of Silence" by GirlGone, "Blood Oranges" by Syntax6, "Absolute Zero" and "Never Enough" by August. So many more.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

From X-Files, I can't really choose between "Water's Edge" which took the most out of me) and "Bridges" (which I wrote just a couple of year ago). I wrote them from very different places and I am proud of what I accomplished in each case. YMMV.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

Never say never? :D I still feel badly that I left the sequel to "Water's Edge", "High Tide", hanging after posting just a few chapters. I never should have started it. My muse jumped ship to another fandom, and there was really nothing I could do. And I'm such a different person now, I don't know if what I would write now is what people who loved the first book would actually want to hear. I came back with the reboot and wrote "Bridges" and that largely said everything I needed to say about what happened to Mulder and Scully after "I Want to Believe". So, realistically, that was probably my XF writing swan song. But I would never say I won't ever post another fic. As the saying goes, "It all comes back to the X-Files". (And, yes, there's PLENTY of half-finished fic on my hard drive. LOL)

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I do. Now that my kid is grown, I'm trying to seriously pursue a professional writing career from here forward. And I do still dabble writing fic in my current fandoms. Right now there is a Major Crimes fic sitting on my hard drive waiting for me to work up the nerve to post it.;)

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Once I'm inside my POV character's head, the narrative in my brain won't shut up. I flesh out and what-if everything. I fill in every moment that doesn't appear on screen. I talk to myself a lot and live in my head and sometimes scare family members. I get some sort of orgasmic high from things like seeing Laura Roslin grasp and tuck into her own hair when she's crying while my inner voice screams "OMG IT'S CANON SHE SELF-SOOTHES WITH HER HAIR!!!!!" I maintain a surprisingly sane outer presentation for the crazy obsessed artist I am within.

What's the story behind your pen name?

When I began removing my real name from the internet (for you young folks, we all started out using our Real Names and building our virtual houses on Geocities, then got warned from everywhere of the scary scary place that is cyberspace and started NEVER EVER using our real names, then Facebook came along and now everyone and their dog is out there with their real names, and Gen X is still going WTF ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!??), I simply chose what I found to be a pretty last name (Rowandale). Elizabeth is my real name. Along the way, when I had started to feel confined by expectations for my writing based on my reputation, I challenged myself to be more honest in what I wanted to write by using the mental trick of a pen name no one knew was actually me, and invented "Rowan Darkstar" (the darker "edgier" side of Elizabeth Rowandale). "Rowan" was taken from Rowan Mayfair in Anne Rice's "The Witching Hour", my favorite novel at the time. Later, I went public with the fact I was Rowan Darkstar, and when I moved into my next fandom, I did so with that as my primary name. I have written in most of my fandoms as either Rowan Darkstar or LadyRowan with the exception of anything else Gillian Anderson related wherein I carried over the Elizabeth Rowandale since there were many crossover readers from X-Files.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

Many of them do, yes. For many years my mother was my primary beta reader!! Sadly, she now suffers from dementia and can no longer fill that role. My best friend came into my life through my Stargate and Sanctuary fic, so there's no hiding from her, and she is now my beta.:) My husband met me in the fandom. So...yeah, most of my close friends know.:) In my 'other life' as an Army wife (now retired) and suburban Mom not so much.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

The most reliable place is probably AO3. It doesn't have much of my older stuff, but I generally post anything new there. I'm Rowan_D on Twitter.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files?

No, you can't be red/green colorblind and be a field agent for the FBI. No, soul groups don't work that way, Scully would have been his lover in some lifetimes, too. Yes, someone with Scully's education and deliberate precision of language WOULD say "for whom?" and not "for who?", you are quite right to cringe. No, you can't drive to Quantico and back to downtown DC and have it still be morning. And lastly -- The Kansas town after which they modeled "The Rain King" is NOT brown, it is NOT flat, it HAS a regional airport, and the residents are educated and intelligent. I lived there at the time -- There was a whole layout in the local paper about the crew visiting for "authenticity." I still marvel at how that is even possible.

(Posted by Lilydale on August 25, 2020)

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #elizabeth rowandale #xf fanfic author interviews

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voiceless-terror · 4 years ago

Note

Prompts? This is a happy day! If you wish! I'm writing something similar but I need more cakes in the flavor and you write emotions so well! But early days in the archives and Tim and Sasha are giving Jon the cold shoulder and maybe there's an accident or something Jon really needs help with but he doesn't think he can go to either of them and he doesn't know Martin. And the next day he rolls up sick, or beat to hell, or has a cast, or a black eye, and Tim and Sasha are like WAT? And then feels!

Here you are! How do you know EXACTLY what to prompt me??? This is so my speed. So here you go- I hope you like!

“You’ve survived your first month in the Archives! That’s cause for celebration, Martin. Drinks on me!”

Tim’s cheerful tones weren’t hard to miss. Perhaps he didn’t notice Jon standing in the doorway, small and timid. He realized it was the middle of a rather stressful work week, but he just needed a little bit of help with some boxes. He’d been tired and worn out for the better part of the week, and the small ladder in Document Storage was rickety at best. Martin and Tim were both much taller and stronger than him- hell, even Sasha could’ve probably gotten the job done. Just a few minutes and then they could be on their way, to wherever they planned to go. Without him.

Sasha was the one who noticed him. “Oh- hey, Jon. Did you need something?”

He looked at the other two, twitching with clear impatience. Martin opened his mouth to speak but Tim made some sort of hushing motion with his hand. A sinking feeling made its way through Jon’s chest and to his stomach- the thought of asking for even the smallest of favors filled him with anxiety. He didn’t think he could bear seeing their faces when they said no.

“Er, no, just- have a good night, yeah?” His voice sounded off, even to him, but they didn’t seem to make much of it, nodding awkwardly.

“You too!” Martin called after him as Jon scurried down the hallway, biting down whatever sadness stuck in his throat. He’d be here all night most likely.

It didn’t bother him.

______

Jon stared up at the boxes looming tauntingly on the shelf, filled with statements that were likely just as disorganized as the ones on the shelf below. But these were labeled with the most recent dates in the Archive, and that’s what he planned on going through for the rest of the week.

Back in research, Tim used to prank him by putting things on the highest of shelves- books he needed, tea he wanted. It irked him but Tim would always be right around the corner to lend a helping hand and a teasing word. It got Jon out of his head for a moment, something very few people could accomplish.

Tim still put things on high shelves in their break room but it just felt cruel, now that he wasn’t comfortable enough to ask for help. Now that Tim was never around the corner.

He put a tentative foot on the step ladder, grimacing as it leaned to the side. He’d put in an order for a new one at the beginning of his tenure but Elias never responded. He felt bad bothering the man with such a petty request when he could just ask his assistants for help. What was he supposed to tell him? ‘Hey my assistants seem to hate me and I’m too scared to ask them’ didn’t inspire much confidence.

Jon took another step forward, willing the ladder to stabilize. He needed to get to the fourth step to even have a chance of reaching the box, high up as it was. Just a bit further.

He made it to the fourth when everything went to hell. As soon as he reached his hands toward the box the ladder creaked and listed dangerously to the side, throwing him wildly off balance. He flailed right off the side, landing with a yelp and a crack on the cold concrete floor of Document Storage.

The pain emanating from his left arm was almost paralyzing-it had taken almost all his weight in the fall and was lying awkwardly across the floor. It brought tears to his eyes as he tried to move it so he just laid there for a bit, willing himself not to pass out from the pain. How ridiculous he must have looked, lying prone on the ground, defeated by a fucking stepladder.

When he finally decided to sit up his head spun- he only got as far as scooting back and leaning his head onto a shelf, trying to control his breathing. He had his phone in his pocket. If he needed help, he could just call Sasha or Tim or even Martin. His arm didn’t feel right and he would probably have to go to a clinic or the A & E, something he hated doing. He didn’t think he could brush this one off.

But what if they didn’t answer? He thought about the three of them at the bar, laughing and talking. Tim would be regaling them with some ridiculous story, his phone would ring. He would glance down at it, see Jon’s name and flip it over, ignoring it.

Or worse, they would come, see him huddled on the floor and laugh. They would try to hold it in at first- they weren’t that rude. But as they helped him to his feet they wouldn’t be able to contain it. How embarrassing he was, how ridiculous. Jon couldn’t bear to be laughed at.

Two weeks ago he had walked past the upstairs break room on his way back from a meeting with Elias. It was entirely unproductive; he could sense Elias’s growing frustration with his lack of progress. Jon wondered if he regretted making him his Head Archivist, if he was already thinking of suitable replacements. Jon wouldn’t blame him.

And that’s when he heard it- an odd, mocking voice that he knew belonged to Ryan from research. Ryan and Jon never got on- Ryan was talkative and prone to gossip, and every attempt he had made to talk to Jon had been shut down by his inability to carry a conversation. On the odd times they were paired together to work, Jon took the brunt of it with utter silence, unwilling to complain about the man lest he be deemed more difficult than he already was.

But the voice he put on- stuffy and posh- was a caricature of Jon’s own. And sure enough, when he glanced in the doorway he saw Ryan hunched over a table, someone else’s glasses on his face as he screwed it up in a scowl and carried on as “Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute” to his captive audience.

His captive audience which included Sasha and Tim.

He felt his heart shatter as the group laughed at the impression. It was accurate, why shouldn’t they? God, why hadn’t he realized how much everyone hated him here? Any respect he thought he earned faded quickly with this showing. He found himself sprinting down the hallway and locking himself in his office, ignoring Martin’s concerned inquiries as he desperately tried to blink back tears.

Remembering the incident brought the shame and embarrassment back tenfold. No, he would deal with this himself. That was the best course of action.

He took fifteen minutes to properly wallow but once his heart rate lowered and the pain was at manageable, dull roar he got to his feet and staggered down the aisle, constantly searching for a handhold. He had everything he needed on him- it wasn’t so cold that he couldn’t go without a jacket, and he knew he wouldn’t get any work done this evening.

Making his way down the hallway and up the stairs was almost tortuous; he paused several times and took deep breaths to avoid passing out and making the problem worse. By the time he got to the lobby Rosie was already gone for the day and Ed, the janitor, was idly mopping by the front door.

“‘Ave a good night, sir,” the man said without looking up. “Careful though, s’slippery over-whoa there, Sims!”

He must have looked as awful as he felt because the man dropped his mop and made his way over to his side, his face the picture of concern. Jon was holding his arm at an awkward angle so as not to jostle it. “S’fine,” he wearily started. “Have a good night, Ed.”

“Don’ look fine to me, Jonny.” Jon hated this nickname, but he never let on. He didn’t want to upset the one man who still greeted him day and night, no matter how stressed and irritable Jon looked. It was a nice, comforting routine. “Somethin’ happen?”

“Just took a fall, nothing serious,” he lied, well aware that his palm was scraped and crusted with blood. “I’ll just be going, got a train to catch-”

“Let me get you a cab, son,” he said, a paternal hand on his shoulder. “Shouldn’t be on the tube looking like that, bound to make it worse.” Jon began to voice his protest but the man was already out the door, waving and stamping in the street. He would smile at the scene if he had the energy for it. Instead he just staggered after him, wincing with every step.

“Over here!” the man shouted, standing by a cab a little ways down the road. Ed opened the door and ushered him in, hands helpful and gentle and so kind that Jon has to blink away tears. “There’s a good lad. Take ‘im to the closest A & E, will ya?” Jon watched as he shoved a pocketful of bills in the cabbies hand.

“Ed, you’ve already done enough-”

“Nonsense,” he waved Jon off, still looking at him with that mix of warmth and concern that Jon so desperately needed. “You just get that checked out, y’hear? An’ come back in one piece!” With that, he shut the door and gave him a wave, standing in place until the car was out of sight.

Jon couldn’t hold back his tears after that.

_______

Jon comes in the next day, arm freshly broken and in a sling, medicated to the gills. He paused at first, considering not taking the pain medication but he eventually gave in as the pain progressed throughout the morning. He’s a little late and he’s going to have to march past his assistants’ desks and attempt to avoid questions.

“Whoa there, boss! What happened?” Tim says immediately upon his arrival. Jon avoids his gaze and looks to the ground, walking as quickly as possible to his office and shutting the door. He deserves a bit of peace before the inevitable interrogation.

Of course, he would never be so lucky. All three assistants are soon hovering around the doorway, looking at him with a worry he doesn’t deserve. He sighs as he casts his eyes to the desk and slumps down in his chair.

“Took a spill yesterday, nothing serious,” he mutters in as staid a tone as he could manage. “Now, if you could please get back to work-”

“You’re not getting out of this that easily,” Sasha says, coming over to his desk, Tim not far behind. Martin stays in the doorway, ever polite. “You were fine we left!”

“It happened shortly afterwards. I advise none of you to use the stepladder for the time being.” He manages a weak smile that none of them return.

“Stepladder? Boss, I told you not to use that anymore!” Tim plops down in a chair, legs immediately going over the arm of it. Jon always imagined them talking in the office like this- a stupid fantasy he entertained when he first got the position. No one had ever sat in those chairs, they just stood in his office and counted the seconds until they could leave. ‘Why didn’t you ask us for help?”

“I-I was going to,” he begins, feeling instantly guilty at the thought of making them feel bad. “But- well, you looked like you had plans.”

Tim and Sasha exchanged a look. “You should’ve at least called us when it happened,” Sasha says, a hand on his desk. Jon aches to take it. “We were right around the corner.”

“I know,” he says. He feels out of it, vulnerable and loose and unmoored. Likely from the meds.

“You knew and you still didn’t call?” Martin this time, his voice incredulous.

“I didn’t think you would come,” his voice is no more than a whisper and his chest aches something fierce. His hands tighten into fists at the silence that follows; he nervously starts to fill it.

“I know-look, it’s fine we’re not friends any more,” he starts, trying to keep his voice level. “But it- it just seems like you don’t want me to be your boss either?” His voice goes higher in pitch and he can’t seem to stop babbling. “I just- I need to know where I stand. So I know what’s okay to ask. I know this isn’t ideal but I- I need help sometimes. Not a lot, just...just sometimes.”

“Jon,” Tim has a hand on his arm and an urgency in his voice. “That’s not- of course we would have come. Of course.”

“I didn’t want you to laugh at m-me.” Christ, could he not get a handle on his emotions for five goddamn minutes? Why was he still talking?

“We would never laugh-”

“But you did!” The words burst forward, almost a yell. “I-I saw you the other day. With Ryan- laughing at me. You know I don’t-” The breaths come quick and he can feel the tears coming down his face. God, what a mess he was. “I don’t understand where it all went wrong. If- if you don’t like me, why did you accept this job? Why are you here? What- what do I need to do better? Why were you laughing at me!” Jon dissolves into a mess of sobs as he slams his chair back from his desk, desperate to put as much space as he could between himself and his assistants.

But Jon never gets what he wants. Tim has his arms wound gently around his body, taking care to avoid the sling. And Sasha is there, a hand on his back as well.

“We- we weren’t laughing, Jon,” Tim tries, but Sasha cuts in.

“But we didn’t exactly tell him to knock it off, did we?” Her voice is angry and Jon doesn’t know who it’s aimed towards. He feels so stupid, so childish for breaking down like this but he knows what he saw. What he heard. “Ryan’s a jealous dick, he was just being mean. And...I guess we were being sort of mean, too.”

Tim takes over from there. “Look- things have gotten messy since we came down here, yeah? We’re...adjusting, that’s for sure. And I’m sorry that we made you feel like you did something wrong.”

“I- I did though, I must have-”

“No- Jon, look at me,” He hazards a glance at Sasha’s face, looking anywhere but her eyes. “You know me. Emotions aren’t particularly my forte. It’s- it’s a lot easier not to talk about things, but that doesn’t mean it’s right. It was a lot easier to hold onto my anger at being passed over, y’know?”

“If you told me- I would’ve had Elias switch us, I swear-”

“We don’t have to switch. To be honest, I don’t think I know how the fuck an Archive is supposed to be run either. At least not one like this,” She gestures to the room and Jon manages a weak smile.

“I’m not very good when things get messy, either,” Tim admits, leaning awkwardly on a file cabinet in order to keep an arm around him. Jon hopes the gesture is genuine, and not just an attempt to placate the man having an emotional breakdown in the middle of the office. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’ve been a right ass. So while I’m trying to make it up to you, how about you let me and Martin handle the top shelf from now on, yeah?” The joke feels familiar. This is territory Jon can manage.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jon wipes a hand across his face, finally feeling a bit more stable. “S’fine. I forgive you.” He takes the tissue Sasha offers. “Sorry for being so- er, dramatic. The pain medication is quite something, to be honest.”

“Oh God,” Sasha is suddenly all business. ‘“You shouldn’t be at work right now. Not like this- Tim’ll take you home, right?” Tim nods, tightening his arm around Jon’s shoulder.

“Yeah- you’re not going to get anything done like this, Jon. Have a rest, Sasha’ll tell Elias what’s going on, yeah?”

“Of course.”

There it is again- of course. Maybe if they keep saying that, it’ll make it true.

Jon doesn’t argue as he’s ushered out of the Institute- whatever that was took a lot out of him, and he knows he’s useless to his team like this, dazed and unstable. Martin follows them outside- Jon had almost forgotten he was there. He had slipped out of the office during the worst of it, kindly giving them some space. He wants to thank him but he doesn’t know how. Instead he listens as Martin rattles off all the things Tim should watch out for, like a nervous mother hen.

“I got it, Martin,” Tim says patiently. “But I’ll call you if anything happens.” Martin reluctantly backs off, giving the two of them a wave as they drive out of the parking lot.

“Jon,” Tim begins, putting a special emphasis on his name. He missed being called Jon. “You know I’ll always come when you call. I promise. I’d- I’d never laugh at you, not like that.”

You know. Of course.

“Okay,” Jon responds, staring out the window. He hopes it’s true. If not, well- the words are a start, right?

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27334912

#my writing #prompts #tma #the magnus archives #angst #whump #some hurt/comfort #jonathan sims #tim stoker #sasha james #loved this prompt!#janekfan

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 5 years ago

Text

A Regular Keats and A Regular Mozart

PART TWO OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: plentiful pop culture references, teasing fluff, a slow burn at its core

Word Count: 3K

Summary: Jess and Ella bask in boredom and argue over various authors.

Evening light waned in the Connecticut sky. Ella watched the stars appear slowly, in her usual corner table near the windowed wall at Luke’s. She’d tried to get through her calculus homework three times, but eventually her brain would start frying and she would have to take a break. Lane would have been with her, but she was grounded yet again. So, Ella was flying solo. It didn’t bother her. Most days she wasn’t on shift, she ended up at the small corner table anyway, pouring over her textbooks with occasional interludes for tea and a burger around dinnertime. Luke had long since cleared away her dishes and left her by her lonesome.

After a few unproductive minutes, watching the townspeople walk by, she glanced at her watch and found it was nearly half past eight. The twinkling string lights illuminated the main streets and the town’s gazebo. It was beautiful. No matter how many times she sat and watched the cozy yellowish glow envelope Stars Hollow night, she never got tired of it. She had a decent view of the sky from her bedroom window at home, but Luke’s view of town was far better. It was one of the many reasons she preferred to spend her nights away from the little blue house near the edge of town.

She had just gone back to the nearly illegible problem below her when Jess’s knuckles rapped on her table. A nervous blush crept up on her freckled cheeks though she hadn’t visibly startled. Her heart had still skipped a beat at the noise. He sat down across from her without being invited, a smirk on his face and an apron around his hips.

“What are you doing here? You’re not on shift today,” he asked. The sarcastic twinkle had never left his eyes the entirety of the time they had been working together thus far.

“I like to study here on my days off,” she told him, her pencil still in her head. She debated ignoring him and going back to her notes, but decided to humor him for at least a few minutes. Apparently, it was the first time he hadn’t been out raising hell on an evening shift she wasn’t working. It had been a part of her routine for so long, she found it odd anyone would be surprised to find her there on a free weeknight. “What are you doing sitting down here when you’re supposed to be working?”

Jess chuckled a little. “Thursday nights apparently aren’t too big around here. Luke’s already closing it up. I just clocked out.” He paused to untie his apron and throw it over his shoulder, as if to prove his point. “I knew this town was boring, but damn. Do you really not hang out anywhere else on your days off besides the place you already work?” he asked.

Ella shrugged, looking down at her work again. Just the sight of it made her insides squirm in frustration. “There’s places to go.”

“Well, could you let me in on them?”

Pursing her lips, she narrowed her eyes at him. “Hm?”

“Show me around. Apparently you know of some interesting spots, and I haven’t found any yet.”

She scoffed. “You’ve been here almost a month and no place in Stars Hollow has piqued your interest at all?”

“No,” he told her nonchalantly. Though he didn’t continue, she only stared at him suspiciously. Sighing through his nose, he produced a deck of cards from the pocket of his jeans. He fanned them out in front of her, the deck with wrinkles and scuffed spots on the royal blue designs. “Pick a card.”

Instead of going along with his trick, she rolled her eyes dramatically and shut the textbook in front of her. “Why don’t I just cut this magic show short and give you the world’s fastest tour?”

“Oooo, so impatient.” Jess pretended to be offended. “Homework makes you cruel.”

. . .

Arms crossed over her chest, Ella strolled down the dimly lit Stars Hollow sidewalk with her boots tapping pleasantly on the slightly damp cement, Jess alongside her. A November breeze blew past them, cooling her flushed cheeks. For the life of her, she could not figure out why he had asked her to show him around, she hated to admit to herself how antsy she was feeling. She would have regretted it more than she already did if she didn’t trust Luke so much. There was no fear in her heart, only anxiety and confusion. She could smell the autumn in the air. The wind swirled around them, forming a tiny tornado of dead leaves in the center of the street. A frosty bite, a crispness, had arrived about a week before. The snow would follow soon enough.

“That’s the bookstore,” she said, nodding over to Stars Hollow Books on the left as they neared it. “I’m gonna assume you’ve been there.”

Jess smiled proudly. “She’s a regular Sherlock Holmes.”

A little smirk crossed her face, brightening up her hazel eyes. In the light of the streetlamps, Jess could see the golden specks swirled in the pools of her greenish irises. The red glints in her loose blonde braid shone, too. A faded green messenger bag weighed down her right shoulder and an old peacoat was draped around her small frame. She wasn’t the shortest girl, but she was still nearly a head below him. After a moment, he broke his concentration from her form as she pointed out a large, barn-like building on the right.

“That’s Miss Patty’s. I’m sure you’ve done your best to disorder the peace in there, too. Steal a bunch of tutus of something,” she said, though her tone wasn’t angry, just knowing, verging on a joke.

“I have not,” he assured her dramatically. “I am a stranger to that realm.”

She put her hands up in surrender. “Well, if you decide on the studio as your next target, you leave the piano alone, alright?”

“What’s so special about the piano?” he asked, his hands stuffed deeply into his pockets as the wind whistled once again.

“Nothing in particular. I play it for rehearsals sometimes when Mrs. Rothschild, the regular pianist, is out. The first two weeks you were here, she had a knee replacement and there was a recital, so I had to sub in. I had no time left to work at all. But Miss Patty gave me volunteer hours for school, so it was okay,” she explained. The rogue strands of hair blew away from her face, and Jess could see the frosted roses blooming on her freckled cheeks. Autumn had come with a particularly harsh chill.

“Huh,” he said, looking at her quizzically.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Just spit it out, Mariano,” she pressed, her voice light.

“I just didn’t see you as a piano player,” he told her.

“Well, what’d you see me as? If you say tambourine, we’re never speaking again,” she warned, giggling slightly as she spoke.

Jess chuckled breathily in response. “I don’t know. Guitar, maybe.”

She hummed thoughtfully, nodding as though the assessment meant anything specific. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“You should.”

“Well, I’m glad.”

There was a beat of comfortable silence between them, and she let her eyes longer on his shoes. His jeans were frayed at the ends, just a bit too long for him. It made her feel like smiling, though she didn’t quite know why.

“What’s New York like?” she asked out of the blue, passing by a few strangers as they walked. Soon, they would turn right, away from the edge of town and into the outskirts. Jess didn’t know it yet, but he was walking her home. She had a date with her dishwasher set for half past nine.

He tilted a sideways look at her. “You’ve never been?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never really been anywhere.”

The sentence struck a chord within him, deep in his gut. She didn’t look sad, and she didn’t sound it either, but something about the phrase she had uttered felt so devastated. Maybe even hopeless, but he didn’t let it shake his exterior. “Well, it’s loud. It’s flashy. You can buy sex for five dollars on every single street corner.”

Ella snorted a laugh. “Oh, then I’ll definitely have to make it there sometime.”

He smiled; her joviality was growing since she’d gotten her nose out of the calculus textbook. Clearing his throat, he took another shot, his tone more serious. “No, but, it’s really...it’s very alive. There’s always movement.”

“So, it’s the opposite of here?” she asked.

“Pretty much,” he agreed.

“You like it better there, I take it?”

“The understatement of the century.”

“Sorry to hear that,” she said. In the back of her mind, she remembered she was supposed to be giving him a tour, but he didn’t seem to care that the conversation had veered from its original purpose.

Jess shrugged, cavalier. “It’s what it is.”

“How poetic of you,” she mocked. “You’re a regular Keats.”

He groaned, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me you like Keats.”

“You’re on dangerous ground,” she told him gravely. They had turned down a gravel road, lined with quaint houses, which seemed to decrease in quality the farther down one walked.

“I just wish he would make his points a little faster. Time is money, and poets almost never take that universal law into consideration,” he argued, a crooked smirk ever-present.

Sighing in disappointment, Ella began to speak with her hands. “It’s about taking the moment, taking the artwork, for the simple beauty of it. Just letting it wash over you, letting the words radiate out. Haven’t you ever read Portrait of the Artist?”

“I tried. Modernism is just poetry masquerading as fiction.”

Ella gasped dramatically, bringing her hands to her heart as though she were wounded. He could see her feigned grief in the light of the many street lamps which buzzed beside them. Apparently even far-off residential areas were alight in Stars Hollow. “Blasphemy!”

For perhaps the first time since they’d met, Jess laughed. A true, genuine laugh, free from his usual sardonic layering. It made a grin appear on Ella’s face, and she almost felt sorry when they reached the decrepit mailbox which read Stevens in faded black paint.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to take a raincheck on this tour,” she said, opening the box and checking for mail. There were a couple bills, and advertisements from various colleges she knew she wouldn’t be able to afford.

Jess sighed in defeat. “I have to say, you did a subpar job. You didn’t even point out the sock hop where the young men and women fraternize on Friday nights!”

She nodded, accepting his criticism. “Well, next time I’ll show you where to buy a malt for the girl you’re courting.”

“As you should,” he concluded.

Dropping the act, she furrowed her brows. “Can you make it back? Or have I led you too far down the road less traveled by?”

“I think I can manage,” he said.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“It appears that way.”

“I’ll have a Keats for you. Maybe a Dickinson, too,” she said, visions of her crowded bookshelf filling her head. “Though, you might not be ready for her yet.”

“Alright, but in exchange you’ll be receiving a Hemingway,” he warned, preparing to turn on his heel and begin the walk back to Luke’s.

“Hardly an even trade, but I’ll accept the terms.”

. . .

Jess sat behind the counter with a Kerouac held open in his right hand, the business rushing around him. The clock ticked rhythmically above the door, and when he looked up he saw it was a quarter to five already. He thought it odd Ella hadn’t arrived yet, but he shrugged it off. Why should he care where she was? Coffee steamed from the pot behind him, and the evening chatter was beginning to rise in volume. Over the past few weeks of living in the diner, he had learned not to make eye contact with any customer whatsoever, and he could usually get through a chapter or two in peace. About ten pages later, the door opened and Ella’s footfalls snapped heavily around, as she hung her coat and bag, then grabbed her apron from the back. He smirked as he watched her bustling around. She always seemed to be in a hurry, with her hair falling from whatever updo she pulled it back into before work. There were holes and runs in her stockings, but it matched the vibe of her plaid dress and combat boots well enough.

Clearing her throat, she took a moment to catch her breath when she reemerged and surveyed the busy diner. She grabbed her pad of paper from the pocket of her white apron, but found she could see no one in need of her assistance at the current moment.

“Something wrong, honey?” Jess piped up, teasing, though he didn’t take his eyes from the words before him.

She raised an eyebrow at him and scoffed. “Don’t call me that. And yes, I’m a very busy woman.”

“Well, color me impressed,” he drawled flatly. Then, after a moment, he put down his reading. He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a thin, weathered book and held it out to her wordlessly.

A tired smile crossed her lips, taking her book back and running her thumbs over the familiar cover art. “Ah, my favorite. The formidable Miss Dickinson.”

“That she is,” he agreed, nodding as he cast his Kerouac off to the cabinet beside him. It had only taken him about two days to get through it, though he’d kept forgetting to return it to her. A wide grin blossomed on her face.

“You liked her?” she asked expectantly.

Nodding, Jess began refilling two or three of the customers’ coffee cups on the counter in front of them. “She certainly gets the message across much quicker than some others.”

“Well, at least you have some taste,” she said. “I’ve still got about fifty pages of the Hemingway. Not entirely unreadable, but I can definitely tell he was drunk for eighty percent of his life.”

“But that’s the beauty of it!” Jess urged.

“Man, and you were just starting to acquire an air of refinement. We’ll continue this again when you finish Keats and agree that I’m right,” she quipped, turning her view back to the customers.

“Well, get ready for the disappointment of a lifetime.” Jess could see her getting lost in her own, frazzled head and let his eyes longer on her, biting his lip and hiding a smirk.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Ella found a blue pen. On the other side, she found a pencil. Eventually, she discovered three more in her messy bun and shoved them in the pocket of her apron. She groaned softly at herself, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Jess chuckled. “What could possibly be giving you a headache on this lovely Friday afternoon in the utopia that is Stars Hollow, Connecticut?”

“Nothing,” she told him evasively, hands on her hips. Luke was chatting up the early birds. No one had come through the front door since she’d arrived, but she kept a trained eye in that direction. Either Babette or Miss Patty would show up soon enough. Likely Miss Patty, to grab some food before the seven o’clock meditation class, which mostly involved the students lying on the floor asleep.

“Oh, so nothing’s what made you forget about your five new pencil accessories?” he asked.

Rolling her eyes at his insistence, she finally turned back to him. “I had to go to New Britain to visit my aunt. She’s getting married and she’s making me play piano for it, for some ungodly reason.”

“Are you any good?”

She scoffed. “Oh, yeah, I’m a regular Mozart. No, I’m terrible.”

“Now, I’m sure that’s an exaggeration.”

“Trust me,” she told him. “When my mom taught me, I think she thought with enough time and energy I’d at least get halfway to her level. But, sadly, no dice.”

Jess was about to continue the conversation, the gears turning in his head for the next giggle-worthy quip, when Luke finally returned from arguing (shouting) with Taylor about Christmas decorations. It was still a whole week until December. And no one in the town save for Taylor was holding out any hope Luke would decorate at all the entire holiday season.

“Hey, Ella, how ya doin’?” Luke greeted her offhandedly, tearing a few tickets and giving them to Caesar in the back.

“She has a headache and is single-handedly ruining the piano as an instrument, apparently,” Jess informed his uncle on her behalf.

She nodded, then her eyes brightened when she saw Patty walk in, right on schedule. “Just this once, your nephew is correct. Now, if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.”

With a sardonic tilt of the head, she left the two of them behind. She pulled out one utensil from her wide writing arsenal and went over to greet Miss Patty, who made her lean down for a kiss on the cheek. Ella obliged, though red as a tomato. It shocked Jess how sweet she could be with the customers. Most of the time all he got was a razor-sharp tongue. She had a goodness within her he already knew he could never live up to. It made his heart do a little twist, though he would never in a million years let her know.

“Jess?” Luke asked, breaking his nephew out of his daze.

“Yes, Uncle Luke?” Jess replied, his usual sarcastic mask back on.

Luke sighed, but ignored Jess’s attempts to irritate him with the formal address. “Less staring, more working, alright?”

#jess mariano imagines #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano one shot #jess mariano #gilmore girls #jess #jess mariano x oc #jess mariano x original character #luke danes #original character #original character stories

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saintashes · 5 years ago

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sad hour snuggles ( 0.5/2 )

( i haven’t fully completed this story yet, so i’m just gonna post half of it for now. what i’m planning to do is make two oneshots, this one and the kam pocky oneshot. enjoy half of my unproductive excuses - )

~~~

“ lately i’ve been thinking . . . i want you to be happier . surprising , i know . but i’ll do whatever i can to make sure that i can give you at least five minutes of euphoria . ”

---

Tam Song sat in a small but cozy chair in the corner of his empty room, away from the windows. He let out a terribly long sigh that sounded painful, continuing to stare up at the plain ceiling. He was seriously contemplating on rebelling against his parents and painting his walls.

Besides the flipping of pages, everything was silent. Tam sat alone in his dull room, his slim fingers gently turning the papers of an even duller book he was looking into. He normally wouldn’t read, but he was so very bored. Linh, his sister, was out in the Forbidden Cities, trying to find a new pet called a cat with Sophie and Biana. Tam was positive she was planning to drive him insane with animals.

Hours passed, and Tam was on the last page of his book. It had the title of, “Big Book of Pets”. Sophie had brought it for Linh the last time she’d illegally went to the human cities and it was pretty fitting with the ordeal Tam would have to endure after his sister added a new member to their household. He would study about all the animals so that he could be ready for whatever monstrosity Linh would have him take care of.

Shutting the back flap of the book, Tam flopped onto his soft white pillows, his bed bouncing slightly with him. The teen shivered and pulled his blankets over himself. He lay there, forlorn and apathetic in his bed. Grabbing his Imparter from the bedside table, he flipped it open and scrolled through his device. He almost dozed off from the silence, but it seems like the person on the other end of the call that Tam answered had other plans.

“Hey, Bangs Boy!” exclaimed Keefe with a rather mischievous look in his ice blue hues.

Tam groaned out of annoyance and blinked his eyes open. “What?” he demanded.

“Woah there, I’m just checking in with you. I’m pretty bored. But I swear, I’m not dying your hair pink or anything today. But if I did pull off something, I’d start with cutting those bangs off first.”

“Shut up, my bangs are awesome. You're just jealous of how more ladies swoon for me.”

“I don’t need no one to be head over heels with me.”

“Oh, right, you have your girlfriend, Sophie.”

“I- She’s not my girlfriend, so be quiet.”

“Mhm, sure she isn’t.”

Now, Tam wasn’t very fond of this conversation and where it was going. Yes, he did have a hair rivalry with Keefe, but what he yearned for was a decent, PLEASANT conversation with him. The teen was tired of arguing whenever they met and was especially done with the fact of being the one staring from afar in the hallways of Foxfire. It’s not like it was his choice he was gay for Keefe Sencen, the straightest guy he knew.

To Tam, Keefe was one hot elf. And also a kind and funny one. Everything about Keefe was perfect to Tam - well, except his boasting about his hair and his tendency to get himself into all sorts of trouble. He wasn’t sure what to make of his feelings and words around Keefe, so he just continued to put up a “go away because I don’t like you” facade, but he really didn’t mean that. He just wanted to hold Keefe’s hand and tease him for stupid actions and play with his blonde hair, even though that’s what started their hatred. The hair.

Keefe must’ve noticed the pain that began to form in Tam’s eyes. Or his Empath abilities were getting stronger. Either way, he let his own taunting act drop and put up his caring one. “Hey, you okay?”

Eyes widening, Tam placed his free hand over his silver orbs and began rambling unconvincingly. “W-What? I’m completely fine and I have no idea why you’re asking that.”

“Don’t lie to me, Bangs Boy. Move your hand.”

“Uh, no.”

“C’mon, dude. If nothing’s wrong, then you shouldn’t have a problem with that.”

“The, uh...the light’s in my eyes.”

Keefe shook his head and laughed, the sound giving Tam butterflies in his stomach. “What light?”

“Uhhhhh- The one above me.” Tam clapped his hands twice and turned the Imparter’s camera above. “See? Light?”

Tam’s silver bangs glinted in the warm white light, a reminiscent of his time at Exillium.

“Bro, you just turned it on.”

“N-No I didn’t. It’s been like that.” He clapped again twice, turning off the brightness that emitted from above.

“Okay, sure. You’ve turned off the light. Now turn the camera towards yourself and tell me what’s wrong.”

“NOTHING. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. Nothing’s wrong!” He pulled the camera back to his hand-covered face.

“Then you wouldn’t mind me coming over?”

“I totally would.”

“Aw, c’mon, you can’t resist the Keefester!” The blonde-haired teen wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, adding a little wink to the end. “You know you want a little time with me.”

“Alright, I’ll play your little game. But I can’t promise that I won’t kick you out when you’re annoying.”

Keefe gasped dramatically and fell onto his sea blue sheet covers. “You couldn’t ever do that to poor Keefe!”

Tam snuggled into his bed, getting comfy. “I would.”

“Fine. Let’s make a bet then.”

“...Go on, I’m listening.”

Settling on his stomach, Keefe propped his head upon his elbow as he tried to set his Imparter down on his own bed. He checked to make sure the camera was still on as he spoke. “Since you’re so sure you’ll kick me out…”

Tam sighed quietly, spacing out. I couldn’t let you leave, Keefe. If I got a chance to enjoy your company, I’d treasure it. You’re, like, so great and I don’t know why I even try to keep up my awful personality around you. HOW ARE YOU STILL SO NICE TO ME EVEN THOUGH I’M SO MEAN AND YOU’VE GONE THROUGH SO MUCH?! It’s gonna be so awkward when you come over. Why am I even agreeing? Am I gay panicking-

“TAM!”

The teen flinched, and squeaked out a pitiful, “What?”

Keefe looked tempted to burst out laughing at Tam, but he kept himself under control and placed his signature smirk on his handsome face. “You gotta seem like you paid attention after zoning out, Bangs Boy. Foxfire’s not gonna let you pass by daydreaming about...whatever a salty guy like you dreams about. I’m assuming you didn’t hear my idea?”

“Nope,” replied Tam, popping the ‘p’ sound. “Not a single thing. Guess you’ll have to say it all again. What a shame.” He gave Keefe a half-smile. A genuine half-smile.

“Was that a Tam smile? Look at that, I’m lucky to have seen one, even though it was because I’m having to say everything I said again. Very cruel of you,” said Keefe, wagging a finger at Tam disapprovingly. “Pay attention this time. So, what I’m suggesting is that since you’re so sure of the fact that you’ll send me away...We’ll do a time limit. If I get to stay without pissing you off in that time, You’ll have to allow me to do whatever with you for the rest of the day-”

“You’ll totally mess up my hair.”

“I promise not to lay a finger on those oh, so awesome bangs of yours. Anyways, if I don’t get to stay in the time limit, I’ll let you decide what to do without telling me. Surprise me, Song.”

“Don’t call me by my last name. It’s disgusting. I hate the very sound of it.”

“Okay, okay. Surprise me, Tammy.”

“I honestly prefer that over Song. Also, your idea sounds like the classic bet that happens all the time. Fine, deal.”

“Wow, it was that easy to have you join me? Dang, Tammy. You’re getting soft.”

“Shut up. I’m just bored. What’s the time for the bet?”

“Uhhhhh, two hours?”

“Cool. I guess good luck trying to not screw this up.”

“Same to you, Bangs Boy.”

“Oh, and don’t come through the front door. Just light leap to the back and I’ll find a way to bring you up.”

Silence followed and Tam realized that Keefe must’ve ended the call. He ran a cold hand down his face and let out a frustrated grunt. He was surely to get into trouble when Keefe waltzed into Chloramore like it was nothing. He heard footsteps come from outside of his door so he quickly hid his Imparter and pulled his book out again.

“Tam,” his father, Quan, said, stepping into the slightly messy room. “I heard talking. Was that you?” He kicked a black shirt to the side and scowled at the way Tam left a few clothes out of place.

“I don’t know, was it?” Tam wasn’t going to give Quan a single straight answer. It was good entertainment watching his father become furious. Tapping his finger on his chin in an act, Tam spoke again. “I guess it was. I don’t see anyone else here, now do I?”

“Who were you conversing with?”

“Myself.”

“I find that quite hard to believe.”

“What, I can’t discuss a book with myself since you won’t let me go see anyone?”

“You’re not stable, Tam.”

Shaking his head, he let out a tiny chuckle that didn’t sound very amused. “I’m not stable? Lovely hearing you talk, but go away now.”

“Give me your Imparter.”

“What Imparter?”

“Tam, I may be what you call ‘cruel’, but I can assure you I’m not. I can also assure you that I’m not stupid.”

He rolled his hands and pushed his bangs out of his eyes, groaning out of annoyance. “Whatever.” Tam made sure the device was locked and shut down before tossing it to Quan. He pointed to his door and made a motion for his father to leave. “Get out now.”

Straightening his back, Quan gave Tam a glare. “Don’t speak to me like that, Tam Song.” Tam grimaced at the mention of his last name, clearly not fond of it whatsoever. “Remember your place in this household.” And with that, he walked out of the room.

Boy, was today a bad day for Tam. First, Keefe calls, then they make a bet, and now he had to listen to his father boss him around? Not very fun. As Tam was deciding that nothing else could happen and that Keefe would ditch the bet in an attempt to save himself, he heard shuffling and a lot of whining from outside his window. A rock smacked the tinted window and Tam scowled, making his way towards it. He let in air and realized how long he hadn’t been outside. The thought got cut off by a familiar voice, and Tam began to regret every decision he’d made so far today.

#kam #kotlc #my boissss #keefe be callin out tam from now on #i honestly don't know what to even tag with at this point hhhh -

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missmentelle · 5 years ago

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I keep hearing "if you're worried about being a bad person, you're not a bad person" and just wondering if that's true from a psychology perspective? The line of logic goes, a "real" toxic/abusive/narcissistic person wouldn't care that their actions hurt others, so if you're worrying about it, then you're definitely not one. Is that really the case though?

It’s... complicated. But no, not really.

So, for starters, there’s no such construct as a “bad person” in psychology. Or a “good person”, for that matter. “Bad” and “good” are value judgments, and psychology tries to avoid making value judgments; we simply aim to identify and describe certain patterns of symptoms of behaviour. The fact of the matter is that everyone does things that could be considered “bad” and “good”, and no one is perfect. We have all hurt other people in our lives, both intentionally and unintentionally. It’s also important to remember that morality is not black-and-white - many, many things fall into a moral grey zone, and different people will have wildly different perspectives on what is right and wrong, and who is a “good” person or a “bad” person. A doctor or psychologist cannot tell you if you are a good person or not. That is something that you ultimately have to decide for yourself, after carefully comparing your own actions to the values that you hold.

You are right that there are certain diagnoses that make a person much more likely to harm others in their lives without really examining their own actions too closely. People with narcissistic or anti-social personalities tend to center their own feelings, and disregard any hurt they cause others. Narcissistic people specifically think of themselves as being highly important, special, and deserving of recognition and success. They tend to enjoy being in a position of power over others, and they are comfortable manipulating and harming others for their own gain. People with anti-social tendencies and disorders, on the other hand, are easily bored and enjoy antagonizing others to get a reaction - any reaction. They are chronically irresponsible, deceitful, and uncaring, and they have no empathy for the people they hurt. If you find that you are chronically unable to feel any empathy for the people around you, or to regard their feelings in any way, that’s definitely a huge red flag that you’re probably harmful to the people around you - although of course, you won’t really care.

Unfortunately, though, caring if you hurt people is not a guarantee that you aren’t doing it. Life and mental health are just not that simple. Many people who behave in toxic or manipulative ways toward others are anguished about it, and constantly worry about it - yet they continue to do it anyway. I think most of us have been in the awkward position of having a friend who didn’t treat us very well, possibly due to serious mental health concerns (maybe too clingy, dropping in and out of our lives without warning, flaky, not interested in our problems, overly critical, etc) who also asked for constant reassurance that they weren’t a horrible person and that you didn’t hate them. My boyfriend has an ex with untreated borderline personality disorder; she constantly, constantly agonized over the possibility that she was a “toxic person”, while doing nothing to change the fact that she was actually being extremely toxic to the people in her life. She harassed my boyfriend for more than six months after they broke up, while still continuing to make public social media posts of herself crying and talking about how she never wants to be a bad person. Although it’s fictional, another good example of this phenomenon can be found in Bojack Horseman - the main character spends the entirety of the show grappling with what it means to be a good person, while also consistently hurting the people around him. It would be nice to believe that simply worrying about hurting others is a guarantee that we don’t do it, but it’s just not that easy.

Figuring out if you are being hurtful to the people you care about is a ongoing process that requires constant honesty with yourself, vigilance, and self-reflection. Being worried is not enough - you have to dig a lot deeper than that. For instance, you need to consider:

What does my relationship history look like? Everyone has relationships that end poorly or just don’t work out, for a wide variety of reasons. But it’s important to examine your relationships as a whole, to see if any troubling patterns emerge. When your relationships end, do you tend to just drift apart and lose contact, or do they tend to end with dramatic blow-ups? Do people tend to remain on okay terms with you after losing contact, or have you had a lot of people specifically block you and cut you out of their life? Again, everyone has had relationships go sour, but if there is a consistent pattern of people dramatically severing ties and relationships turning hostile and toxic, it’s typically a sign that there’s a problem in there that’s worth examining.

How do I react when I realize I’ve wronged someone? When you realize you have done someone wrong - either by your own realization, or by them telling you - how do you react? Do you accept responsibility and apologize, even if you think the incident was no big deal? Do you ignore the situation? Do you do something to try to make it up to them? Have you ever gotten angry or upset with someone for telling you that you hurt them? Again, fuck-ups and mistakes happen - we are human. It’s how you deal with those fuck-ups that matters.

How were the last few arguments I’ve been in resolved? Think back to the last few times you had a serious disagreement with someone. What happened? Were you able to resolve the issue in a way that worked for both of you? Did the argument escalate? Did one person steamroller over the other? Disagreements are inevitable, but the way that we handle even the most serious difference of opinion says a lot about who we are.

Am I generally reliable in relationships? Do you show up when you say you’re going to show up? Do you remember the things people tell you, or do you have to constantly be reminded about the basic details of other people’s lives? Do you send birthday greetings, answer texts most of the time, and make a point to be there for important events in others’ lives? Again, no one is perfect at this, but making an effort to be consistent about this stuff - and giving others a heads-up or apology when you are struggling to do it - is important.

Have I been insensitive with others? Are you sensitive to other people’s needs? Do you generally manage to use tact when discussing delicate topics with people? Do you remember to avoid certain topics with certain people, and avoid airing people’s personal information in front of others? Nobody has perfect manners, but it’s important to make an effort to consider the comfort and feelings of others.

How do I treat people that I dislike? How you treat the people you dislike - or don’t know - is almost as important as how you treat the people you do like. Do you ever behave vindictively toward people you don’t like? Do you gossip about them? Have you ever gone out of your way to make someone’s life harder in some way because you didn’t like them? It can seem satisfying or justified to get our revenge on someone who wronged us, but this can quickly reach a point where it’s unproductive and cruel.

Do I take no for an answer? Do friends and loved ones feel comfortable saying no to me? Do I tend to accept it when things don’t go my way, or do I tend to push and try to convince others to change their minds? Have I ever gone behind someone’s back after they’d already said no? It can be difficult to face rejection or an outcome that you don’t want, but being able to take it gracefully is important.

Obviously, this isn’t a comprehensive list of what it takes to be a “good person” to others, and you don’t have to hit every point on it all the time. We all have times where we are stressed and tired, or where we just drop the ball. Shit happens. But it’s important to keep examining ourselves in an honest way, and looking for places we can improve. Best of luck to you!Miss Mentelle

#AnsweredByMM #Anonymous

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honeyctm · 5 years ago

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according to tmz’s latest update , 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨 has just signed with 𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖞 … you know the twenty five year 𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 singer / songwriter ? the one who resembles 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞 ? yeah , her ! they’re known for being +𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 but also -𝐯𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐧𝐠 . rumor has it , 𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 . hopefully , under new management , the 𝐜𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 will avoid being the subject of a new scandal . [ emmy , 21+ , she/her , pst ]

hello everyone ! i am so excited to be here with you all on this brand new journey together ❤️ my name is emmy and i’m one of the admins . please , please seek me out for anything and everything , i’m more than willing to assist ! this is my problematic child honey . she’s a bit of a chaotic mess but i hope you all grow to love her just as much as i have . i can’t wait to plot with you guys !

⤷ ⋄ * introducing honey caprio !

honey was born angela caprio to italian immigrant parents , angela and joseph in maryland . living a rather unproductive childhood , there was not much of her early childhood that is worth noting other than she adopted the name honey relatively young as she loathed sharing a name with a mother and it was an affectionate pet name her father gave her that she really liked . in school , honey was hardly remarkable in any sense . her grades were average , she had a solid friend group and was a member of the choir . her voice is always something that stood out , particularly her talented vocal range which helped cast her in several musical theater productions . so how did someone so genuinely normal sky rocket to stardom ? well , that’s a funny story , actually . ever hear of an industry plant ? you’re looking at one . and what exactly is an industry plant ? an artist that is suddenly skyrocketed to fame seemingly overnight , and that’s exactly what happened with honey . after graduating high school , honey had no intentions of seeking out a higher education . instead , she spent her youth partying with her friends , getting high , and making poor decisions . during one night of drunken karaoke , she was approached by a representative from a record company . a girl with zero ambition to do anything other than live her life to it’s fullest was suddenly being put in booths to sing her little heart out for some of the biggest producers in the game . while this was never a lifestyle that honey had thought plausible before , she quickly fit into the mold of what the record label was after : a sultry vocalist who is inherently messy . and thus , dangerous woman was born . it was a calculated release right down to the title track , the first single , and the overall aesthetic honey would portray . honey had very little input in dangerous woman , which launched her into a mainstream name overnight with her smokey music video and impressive range . suddenly she wasn’t a girl from maryland anymore . she was attending hollywood parties , having sex with big names . no one really knew where this girl came from --- she was suddenly here and in everyone’s faces and making appearances at nearly every award show . sweetener was the first album that honey had some creative control over . she was experienced now , a world tour behind her and a sturdy fan base . while she wasn’t pumping out hits , she was the topic of many headlines . too drunk to walk out of the club , multiple whirlwind romances that ended horrifically , and diva - esque behavior which was amplified by her infamous donut licking incident . shortly after sweetener was released with success , honey’s label gave her the go ahead to drop another album almost six months later , thank u next which earned her several grammy nominations . no one is really sure how a girl so messy became so damn famous , but her agent recommend that she find better management to keep her name in a more . . . ahem , positive light . she signed with vilify and embarked on another world tour which she recently wrapped . it’s rumored honey is currently working on new projects but she’s been keeping it low key . . . for now .

⤷ ⋄ * isms + head canons !

⤷ honey is . . . a leo to a fault . she’s playful , bright , but horribly demanding and stubborn .

⤷ she’s bisexual and she’s honestly quite a shamelessly sexual individual . she isn’t the type to settle down to easily , though , and often juggles a handful of lovers instead of committing to just one person .

⤷ her sense of humor is really unique . she sarcastic and dry , but i would also consider her to be quite childish . she’s immature in what she finds amusing .

⤷ she has all the canon tattoos that ariana grande has .

⤷ becoming a celebrity hasn’t really changed her personality too drastically , rather she’s very set in her ways and doesn’t often behave like a celebrity should . she isn’t very poised . she curses in interviews and on the red carpet .

⤷ while she is so successful musically , it wasn’t her passion until recently . now that she has more creative control of her music and has been taught the art of production , she is genuinely passionate over it .

⤷ she literally won’t respond to angela , just don’t do it . don’t call her that . . . she’ll kick you right in the balls , i promise you .

⤷ if i had to compare her characters , i would say she’s a mixture of buffy summers , jim from the office , summer from rick and morty , & marquise from cruel intentions .

⤷ her tendency to be impulsive gets her in a shit ton of trouble . she has horribly bad luck and is caught by the press doing nearly everything that she should keep hidden .

⤷ loathes being alone , she will have her friends live with her in her home rather than not have someone to go home to .

⤷ she isn’t the best romantic partner . a lot of her music reflects that , especially in thank u next . she doesn’t really seem to care about the way she acts , either . it’s important to note she hasn’t genuinely felt love before . she’s come close , but that exploded in her face .

⤷ in contrast , honey is an excellent friend . she’s loyal . she’s fierce when it comes to her group . she’ll be the first one posting shit on ig , the first subtweeting . she relies on her friends for a great deal of support .

⤷ fame coming so quickly and so out of pocket really fucked with honey emotionally and psychologically . she suffers from anxiety , gets panic attacks , and often turns to drinking and drugs to combat those feelings .

⤷ ⋄ * plot ideas !

⤷ platonic plots : best friend(s) , housemates , music collaborator , inspiration , writing buddies , party buddies , only friends when we’re high / drunk , we met backstage at an award show and have a budding friendship , you used to date my best friend but we got along so well we stayed friends , drug dealer , i got too drunk at a party and you looked after me , confidants , we went on a date but ended up being friends instead , theme park buddies , sibling like bond , we used to hate each other until we actually got to know each other , publicity friends , we used to date but now we’re just friends

⤷ romantic plots : forbidden romance / affair , hateship , exes with benefits , friends with benefits , publicity romance , heartbreak , i could’ve fallen in love with you but we never got the chance to make it real , we only hook up when we’re fucked up , you’re the boy / girl in my songs

#vtm:intro #i could've gone at this harder but i got lazy i haTe myself

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aynare-emanahitu-blog · 5 years ago

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Dialogs for translation

I noticed that I have readers. This is great! My work resonates, and I realize that I'm doing it for a reason. But I didn't think at all about the fact that some Tumblr users don't speak English.

I realized my mistake. Translating the characters ' dialogue into other languages from the pictures is difficult. I will publish a separate post with replicas for translation from English.

Here will be the dialogues of the 1st chapter and the beginning of the 2st. Then I will publish them along with the pages.

“Nothing ever changes”

Three months have passed after defeating the Lord Dominator. Lord Hater’s got back to his daily business – conquering planets. Wander and Sylvia have continued their journey, but they have been faced the treacherous villain again shortly after.

Hater: Come here! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!!!

Peepers: Sir! SIIIR! I’ve told you that flag is just a symbol! You really shouldn’t!

Wander: The more people play the funnier!

Hater: Get the flag back right now, you hairy ginger blinger!

Wander: Catch me first!

Sylvia: Here we go again…

Wander: Sylvia, catch it!

Sylvia: Nope, Wander, cut it out, I don’t play these games. I shall struck your neck in other circumstances! And you, Hater, maybe wanna say something? Well, for example, “Thank you, Sylvia”?

Hater: Get plumb out of my planet! Oh my grop, I’m really tired of you! Peepers, bring me cacao and soft plaid, or I’ll break everything up here!

Peepers: Sure, sir! On my way, sir!

Wander: Sylvia, why did you mess my game? Hater has almost become cheerful.

Sylvia: Oh, Wander, I understand you want to make friends with him, especially after Dominator’s defeating, but he’s not changed since then, still evil and nasty.

Wander: Come on, Syl, he goes on like that just to keep his reputation of the main villain in the universe.

Sylvia: I doubt that. Let’s get something to eat instead, while it’s still quiet here.

An hour later.

Hater: What the grop?

Hater: Well what’s that?! My monument has to stand strait and proudly, but you had warped it leftward! Put it correctly right now, you clumsy idlers!

Hater: What a bunch of idiots you are! Is that really too hard for you to do something properly just one time?

Peepers: Sir, I must mention that relief isn’t quite smooth here. Maybe we should put it in another place?

Hater: Are you kidding me?

Hater: This is a city center! Don’t I deserve to be set in stone right here, I, The Greatest Villain of all times and the ruler of the galaxy?!

Peepers: You do deserve, certainly!

Hater: So clean this or…

Hater: What? What’s there?

Peepers: Impossible!

Peepers: That’s…

Hater: That is… How could it be?!

Wander: Sylvia? Look…

All: DOMINATOR!

Peepers: This sign means trouble. How did she even can do that? Only three months have passed! Three! She's returned, and she has a new ship!

10.

Peepers: Sir, we must leave! I’m not sure that Dominator isn’t going to attack. It’s unknown how powerful she is now! Sir? Why don’t you move?! To accept the battle without information about enemy’s new power is unproductive!

11.

Sylvia: Wander, do you see? That’s Dominator! Oh grop, you'd better not to save her!

Wander: Sylvia, that’s cruel. Maybe she came not to destroy the planet, but to save it from Hater?

Sylvia: No, look by yourself! She’s destroying everything around! We have to get out of here!

Sylvia: We cannot risk now, grop dang this Dominator! By the grop, she’s like a weed!

Hater: So… she’s returned.

Peepers: Yes, and she’ll smash this place up! Have you seen her? She’s infuriated! We must find a safe place to plan our next step!

Hater: I doubt I could do it again…

Peepers: What? Sir, what are you talking about?

12.

Dominator: Aha, running away, I see! This pitiful jerk Hater will pay for my ship and my humiliation! I will enjoy my vengeance really…really long!

To forget

14.

Peepers: This planet is now under the control of the Duke of Dread, the Monarch of Mayhem, the Emperor of Evil, number one super star – Lord Ha…

King: Welcome! Here, take it, please. And that too! And you can take the key of treasury!

15:

King: Anything to save us from Dominator!

Hater: Peepers, command army to retreat.

Peepers: And you, sir?

King: Please, help us!

Dominator: ahahaha!

16:

Hater: I’ll take care of this Dominator. I’ll show her how to mess my invasion!

Peepers: No, sir, it’s too dangerous!

Hater: GRRRAAAAA!

Peepers: Siiir!

Dominator: Ahahaha!

#Wander Over Yonder #woy

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alexsfictionaddiction · 5 years ago

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12 of the best feel-good books

I think we could all do with a pick-me-up right now. We’ve been in some level of isolation for over a month and we’re perhaps being forced to accept a new normal. However, we’re still seeing frightening and tragic headlines all day every day (ration your news time, if you’re not doing so already), so of course, fear and hopelessness is going to set in. If you’re not used to spending time alone, loneliness is also a huge possibility but we know that books are a great source of solace in times like this.

Maybe you want to do your own research and discover how far into the realms of science-fiction we’ve got. For you, I have compiled a list of the best books that pandemic fiction has to offer but if you’re looking for something more light-hearted, I’ve got the perfect tonic. Whether you need a laugh, to be comforted or to simply remember what life used to be like, here are some books that will help you escape the current face of reality. Above all, remember that it’s perfectly natural for your mental health to be suffering at the moment. Do whatever you can to look after yourself and stay safe.

1. The Flatshare by Beth O’Leary

Remember when you could just move in with a stranger without worrying about keeping two metres apart at all times? Tiffy and Leon share a flat and even a bed but due to entirely opposite work schedules, they manage to not even meet for months after Tiffy moves in, only communicating via texts and notes left on the fridge. But Tiffy’s controlling ex-boyfriend and Leon’s innocent prisoner brother ignite a connection that is fuelled by basic human kindness and a touch of romantic attraction, of course! This quirky rom-com has been a bestseller for over a year now and it’s not hard to see why. It’s a celebration of love, friendship and the unexpected happiness that can come from taking calculated risks. Beth O’Leary’s second novel The Switch has also just been released, so there has never been a better time to read her debut!

2. Wonder by R. J. Palacio

A beautiful story of empathy, kindness and acceptance, Wonder has fast become one of the most popular and widely read contemporary middle-grade novels. Auggie Pullman was born with a facial deformity and he’s attending mainstream school for the first time but of course, kids can be staggeringly cruel to those who are different. Wonder kickstarted a global kindness campaign and spawned a film adaptation, which is one of the best and most faithful I’ve ever seen. It has already given so much to the world and I know you’ll get a lot of joy out of it too.

3. The Long Way To A Small Angry Planet by Becky Chambers

Of course, not all sci-fi is doom and gloom. This is the first instalment in Becky Chambers’ Wayfarers series and it’s laugh-out-loud funny. It follows a misfit crew of space travellers and their wonderful smile-inducing relationships. Celebrating the coming together of a variety of races, sexualities and personalities, it features a lot of loveable memorable characters who begin to read like dear loyal friends. If you’re looking for quirky, light-hearted sci-fi in a similar vein to Star Trek and Firefly, you’d be wise to start here.

4. Less by Andrew Sean Greer

Arthur Less is a struggling writer about to turn 50 and the love of his life is engaged to someone else. To say that he’s not feeling too hot right now would be an understatement but he has been invited to a range of literary events around the world, so he does the logical thing and accepts them all. We can’t travel right now but with Arthur, you’ll visit Paris, Berlin, southern India, the Moroccan desert and Japan. You’ll also go on a journey of self-acceptance, learn how to love the life that you have and appreciate the time you have left.

5. Hot Mess by Lucy Vine

It’s rare that a book makes me guffaw out loud in public but Hot Mess did exactly that, when I read it a couple of years ago. Ellie is a single woman who hates her office job and is absolutely nowhere near having her life together. However, she does have some great friends and a lovely relationship with her dad Alan, whose drafts of a romance novel are truly side-splittingly hilarious. We see Ellie through terrible dates, trauma confrontation and a quest for true happiness that is hugely satisfying. It has been described as a modern-day Bridget Jones but I found it much more relatable and actually quite a lot funnier!

6. The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion

It’s the first in a trilogy of novels that explore the trials and tribulations of finding romance when you’re genetics professor Don Tillman. Don likes facts, logic and reason and he applies all of these things to his latest endeavour, The Wife Project. He knows exactly the kind of woman he wants to marry but then he meets Rosie, who ticks none of his boxes and he’s forced to accept that perhaps true love doesn’t always follow the rules. Don and Rosie’s relationship is such a heartwarming, mutually beneficial one that will make you laugh and leave you with a big bag of warm fuzzy feels.

7. The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien

There is a huge chance that you will have read The Hobbit but what better time to revisit a funny, charming favourite? Re-embark on the quest to retrieve Smaug’s treasure, take back the Lonely Mountain and make a plethora of fantastic friends along the way. As well as relating to Bilbo’s personal growth throughout the novel, I think the idea of facing epic threat and mortal peril in unknown environments and yet still returning safely home to a quiet comfortable life is the reassurance we need that this too shall pass. Of course, it will also be an intoxicating nostalgia trip, so there’s really no reason to not pick it up again!

8. The Bromance Book Club by Lyssa Kay Adams

I read this over the Valentine’s Day period and was so enchanted by it. Gavin is a top baseball player for the Nashville Legends and he has recently discovered that he has never given his wife Thea a genuine orgasm and it’s threatening the relationship. So he does the logical thing and turns to his team mates, who actually double as a secret romance book club. They suggest taking a leaf out of a smutty Regency paperback to save his marriage -what could possibly go wrong? Funny, heart-warming and touching, it’s a great choice if you’re looking for a rom-com with a difference.

9. My Pear-Shaped Life by Carmel Harrington

If you’ve spent a lot of self-isolation being wholly unproductive and perhaps not looking after yourself too well, you may be feeling that you’re simply not good enough. Especially if your social media is full of happy healthy people doing just about EVERYTHING. Meet Greta, a struggling actress who is used to playing the role of the funny, overweight girl in all areas of her life. That’s ok as long as she laughs with everyone else, right? But things have been pretty rough lately and it’s only when she hits rock bottom that she begins to realise that maybe things need to go a little bit pear-shaped sometimes. With joy and despair in equal measure, this new novel, populated with an array of wonderful characters, will teach you that true happiness comes from simply being you.

10. A Boy Made Of Blocks by Keith Stuart

Eight-year-old Sam is autistic and struggles to make sense of the world. His dad Alex has also lost himself somewhere along the way and needs to change. Minecraft offers a place where father and son can rediscover their bond and put the family back together, block by block. I reviewed this incredibly moving, uplifting story when it was first released a few years ago. It’s actually inspired by Keith Stuart’s real-life experiences, which I think give it an extra dollop of heart-warmth!

11. The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta

The entire focus of this fantastically written YA novel is on embracing your own personal uniqueness and on not being afraid to let it out. Michael is a mixed-race gay teen who has grappled with his identity for his entire life. On arriving at university, the idea of becoming a drag artist causes everything to begin to slot into place. Told in verse, The Black Flamingo will show you how your boldest brightest colours can shine through the darkest of times. Highlighting the power of words and challenging all forms of homophobia, whether it be external or internal, this is a book that I’m sure will become a staple of LGBT+ literature in years to come. As for now, it will simply inspire you to live your very best life, regardless of who tries to prevent it.

12. Reasons To Be Cheerful by Nina Stibbe

As the title may suggest, there is plenty to smile about in Reasons To Be Cheerful. It’s chiefly a coming-of-age novel about a young woman called Lizzie living in 1970s Leicestershire. She has just got a job as an assistant to a work-shy, racist dentist who is desperate to join the freemasons. Navigating this new position alongside a relationship with her alcoholic writer mother, a boyfriend who doesn’t seem terribly interested in her and a few unlikely friends, Lizzie’s life makes for some pretty amusing anecdotes. Whether it’s the simple retro setting or small cast of eccentric caricatures, there is something quite other-worldly yet familiar about it. There is a lot of detail that is relevant to the period it’s set in, including the blatant social prejudices that were so rife at the time. I am too young to have experienced 1970s Britain but it certainly feels authentic to what I know. I have no doubt that those that were there will get even more enjoyment and nostalgia from Lizzie’s life than I did.

#feel good #books #recommended #recommendations #uplifting

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