#Like they communicate better and The Curator is pretty calm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fionarara · 1 year ago

Note

HIPSTER KENMA PART 2 WHEN PLEASEEEEE IM OBSESSED

nonni all caps ?? for hipster kenma ?? i thought this idea was an incredibly niche thing in my odd brain which would legit get like zero interaction, i straight up wrote it mostly for myself, so this is a v pleasant surprise (Ｔ▽Ｔ) also, this got longer than expected, but since you requested it with such enthusiasm, i wanted to add in a little extra detail as a treat for you ♡

+ hipster ! kenma . pt. 2 .

(+ part 1 ⇢)

+ hipster ! kenma who feeds his hairless sphynx cat gluten-free food, because he wouldn’t feed his cat a certain diet that he isn’t also on himself

+ hipster ! kenma who thinks much of the fashion industry’s antics are ridiculous for being so overpriced (and that some of their practices can be harmful to the environment), but will drop $375 bucks at a carefully curated, high-end, second-hand designer fashion shop in the arts district on a fresh pair of black jeans, ones that already come pre-ripped and are conveniently labeled as having a 'distressed' look. so edgy. clearly, who needs logical pricing when you can pay a premium to look like you've been through a barbed wire fence? + hipster ! kenma dislikes coffee, because not only is it so acidic on the PH scale, the entire culture surrounding the popular brew (–and yes, he really did call coffee, “the popular brew” when explaining this to you) is so aggressive in prevalent society, as it seemingly promotes an inherent overly capitalist mindset that is so patriarchal. instead, he opts for ~matcha with lion’s mane extract~ for better concentration and whenever he needs a pick-me-up. besides, he prefers things being more chill and calm anyway, and coffee makes him feel too jittery and whacked out + hipster ! kenma doesn’t actually have the best grasp on crypto or stock trading, but from believing and claiming he did, got yaku involved in also investing in that one reddit gamestop stock with him. unfortunately, due to a bad call of not pulling the shares out in time, they lost a considerable amount of money. L. but as short-tempered as yaku used to be, he’s mellowed-out in his older years and only blames himself in the end for even listening to hipster kenma in the first place. anyway it’s cool–when yaku came to visit town from russia, he got taken out by hipster kenma for an evening of partying, all drinks and party drugs on him, as a sort of apology for the risky financial loss—the night ended with the both of them on the floor crying together from reminiscing about past memories and ‘the good ole days’, sheesh + hipster ! kenma who sometimes seems like he hates you, but gets a bit of a kick out of you bringing it up, because whenever you do, he gets to playfully remind you he’s just in resting mode or deep in thought by making the same joke every time, “that’s just my cunty cat face” + hipster ! kenma who is prone to getting some pretty gnarly anxiety at times, so he takes these 15mg edible marijuana gummies to chill himself out. his favorite flavor of THC gummy bear from the packet you gifted him, and which he now regularly takes, is salted caramel and dark chocolate + hipster ! kenma will drag you to see an arthouse docufilm about the music history of video games with modular synthesizers, etc. at this little blackbox theater, complaining that those big blockbuster movie chains are ripping you off by charging way too much for mainstream crap, but then he proceeds to overpay for an overpriced, organic, effervescent, raw kombucha drink once you arrive at the little indie theater (he definitely thinks buying soda at the movie theater is beneath him, “the way i see it, if you want a soda at least make it, like, an actual appropriate setting, go to a carnival and have it with a corn dog.”)

+ hipster ! kenma loves street food. will take you to the local art walk/night market festivals once a month, fascinated by tasting all the different street food vendors and scoping out the community art scene, he’ll even end up treating you with a tasty treat every time from one of the booths. although he doesn’t particularly love overly sweet things, he will especially eat any sweetly-glazed savory snack that comes on a stick. one thing about him that you’ve come to appreciate though is that he doesn’t just gobble down his food, no, hipster kenma actually enjoys taking the time to savor what he consumes while giving insightful commentary on the food’s flavoring, etc. + hipster ! kenma who DIYs…many things, because he figures, let’s be honest, other people can’t be relied upon to make things correctly, not by his standards. especially when it comes to his computer, which of course he built himself: it has a fully transparent case so you can see right through to the whole display of all dazzling gear and deco inside of it, and in his words it had to be, “a state of the art custom loop with full liquid cooling”. you admit the inner flashing lights are pretty and the computer is definitely so decked out, that it's for sure one of the coolest things you’ve ever seen.

+ hipster ! kenma kinda has this weird thing that if he didn’t think of a cool idea for his twitch stream first after seeing it from another popular streamer, then he acts like it’s kinda inherently stupid, mentions how blasé it is to you and his friends, even if deep down he does find the idea interesting or appealing and probably, most definitely, would’ve adopted it himself

+ hipster ! kenma who can oftentimes hold the belief that adopting a cynical and pessimistic outlook on life makes one more intelligent and analytical, even more sophisticated or enhances his overall cleverness of mind, sad + hipster ! kenma is hot. okay. in such an understated way, which all the more makes him hotter, though he’s not fully aware of his own appeal, or perhaps only mildly—actually attracts a fair amount of bitches when he goes out to the dive bars or local music shows, ones who aren’t intimidated by his sort of mysterious appearance or superior demeanor which is bound to come off a little pretentious, but in truth, he’s actually a bit insecure and shy about being approached so often and therefore tends to stay pretty silent when that happens, unsure of how to fully deal/cope with someone who is being so direct about their interest in him. ultimately prefers the slow get-to-know-you burn when it comes to any romance: a friends first, lovers later kind of thing + hipster ! kenma is incredibly observant, especially in social situations and mostly prefers to just take everything in, only speaking when he has something truly poignant to say … or when an opportunity strikes to completely, calmly, eviscerate someone’s inane or ignorant opinion, delivering a point so smooth, he’ll crush their shitty take all in a such a demure, cool, collected and resolute manner to the point where the dumbass person in question doesn’t even know they’ve been schooled and insulted by him until the roar of jeers and laughter from the surrounding crowd are heckling the unbeknownst fool, sick burn hipster kenma + hipster ! kenma only dares to wear brighter colors when at the beach and the item of clothing is a hoodie (proclaims it’s a light and breathable one though sooo he’s not sure what everyone is making such a fuss over when you, hinata, kuroo and the rest of your beach crew kick up some sand towards him while chiming in unison to urge him to, “take it off! we’re by the ocean, bruh!”) – the brightest colors of those hoodies ever worn at the beach are either a pale mustard, burnt amber, or white with possible cool textile designs. not only that, but he’ll stick to the shade beneath the large beach parasol playing on his nintendo switch, because listen, he isn’t about to get skin cancer on account of the toxic chemicals they put in sunscreen these days just so he can catch some rays (which of course, the sun could also give one cancer) + hipster ! kenma has these annoyingly long pretty dark lashes which are framed so nicely by his non-prescription clear frame glasses, and every so often you will playfully grumble to him about how unfair that is, since he’s a boy and doesn’t even care that he’s got them, then proceed to joke by asking him to give you some of those lashes since he doesn’t in fact need all of them for looks. he’ll respond by lightly chuckling and referencing that one Clockwork Orange film scene where the main character’s eyes are forced to remain horrifically clamped open, slyly suggesting, “if you can manage to get me in a position like that, then and only then, can you have them” but don’t bother, he continues, because you’ll never get past him~~ + hipster ! kenma who, no matter what he seems like on the surface, you know in the end that he’s undeniably ride or die for his friends, 10/10 will always always have their back, willingly giving them a hand without making a big deal of it + hipster ! kenma shelled out quite a hefty price on his ‘Beats by Dre’ headphones, even though as a self-proclaimed audiophile he knows they’re nowhere near being the best on the market, only bought them for the clout, and walks around town wearing them or for his twitch streams + hipster ! kenma secretly cries to bon iver, sufjan stevens, james blake, ryuichi sakamoto, erykah badu, nick cave and portishead when he’s alone + hipster ! kenma watches a looot of documentaries

+ hipster ! kenma owns this cat shirt ↴ doesn’t wear it out in public though, only to bed, and has had it so long it’s already starting to fray at the sleeves and shoulder's seams:

+link2masterlist.

38 notes · View notes

kirchefuchs · 2 years ago

Note

so yk how in ur AU, The Narrator is an AI turned human? And Stanley is aware that The Narrator is an AI? And how Jim and TK are/were part of the development team?

Do you also remember the Lovebug Virus?

ehe

Now, I have an idea for a tiny lil oneshot (probably gonna have more than 2k words so yay!! depends on what my writer's block says tho) based off of your AU with the Lovebug Virus added to the mix

SOO IF U DON'T MIND

Could you describe how TK and Jim (and literally everybody in ur AU) are? Personality-wise, I mean. I wanna write them as in-character as I can so ye :D

please and thank youuuu!!

— 🅰️non || 05/17/2023

*cracks knuckles* Okay, here we go!

Narrator (Pollux): For the most part he's the same as how he is in the game, just a little softer. He's definitely grown very attached to Stanley over time and especially after they enter a relationship he practically melts to Stanley's touch. He's still got that iconic snark and sass, he's just softer around the edges now.

Stanley: He's a menace. He's lovely, kind, and loves to shower others with affection, but he's a scheming, mischievous little piece of trash (affectionate). He loves to cause problems. Small problems. Ones that don't really hurt anyone and can be laughed about later. He just loves to smile and have fun. He's selectively mute and primarily communicates with BSL, but when he does speak it's usually in whispers or very quietly spoken.

Timekeeper (TK): Before the Parable? They were pretty laid back but took any challenges that came their way with a fierce determination. They were very good at their job. That being coding. They are a little socially awkward so Jim would do most of the talking for the two of them. They grew to miss talking to people after they got trapped on the coding void of the Parable. After spending what felt like an eternity in near complete isolation they went a wee bit crazy, so some things they say don't make sense or their thoughts get jumbled together. They come off as very cryptic sounding. Poor guy.

Jim: He is very loud. He loves to talk (probably has adhd but has gone undiagnosed) and he adores trying out new things with his projects. He was the head of the development team so he's definitely got some people skills, and he's similar to Stanley where he likes to make harmless jokes. He's a little bit mischievous, a lot a bit funny, and he loves to make people smile. He's got one of those laughs that can very quickly turn into snorting if he's laughing hard enough. (Lowkey sounds like Ernie's laugh on sesame street)

Mariella: Imagine if Stanley were a raging lesbian. That's pretty close to what Mariella is like. Although she's a lot better at putting on a professional persona when she needs to. And she's more the type to tell really bad puns than to purposefully annoy someone like Stanley would. Because of how similar the two are, Stanley and Mariella do get along well and consider each other friends (though she tends to tease him about how long it took for him and Narry to get together).

Curator: Curie is significantly more calm and collected than Narry. She can sometimes come off as a little intimidating or strict, but she just says things as they are. She's very self aware and that helped to her and Mariella figuring out their relationship quite a bit faster than the boys (what can I say? She doesn't see the point in bottling up emotions). She often acts like a wise older sister to Narry, giving him little suggestions and encouragements when he needs them. She cares a lot about those close to her, it's just hard to see sometimes.

27 notes · View notes

vadersaber · 2 years ago

Note

Honestly I was scared to join the Pedro fandom before this year because of how creepy his fans were. The calling him Daddy always seemed weird to me even though at first he had fun with it (in my opinion.) I saw somewhere either in here or tiktok that Pedro fans better be ready after The Last of Us came out because there was gonna be an influx of fans jumping on the bandwagon and calling him Daddy.

Personally his my hero. I’ve had a shitty (pardon my French.) few years since the pandemic. His TV shoes and movies, interviews etc. are what have kept me going. All I want in life is to be “Pedro, thank you for creating amazing work that inspires people etc.” it’s what he deserves to hear. Not that I want him to jump my bones. I love that he is getting more well known for his talent but for his sanity creepy fans need to just calm down. Otherwise we may end up with no Pedro because I could seriously see him quiting because of how some fans act.

i totally understand that. i'm just sorry you felt this way about joining the fandom. unfortunately, even if pedro is finally being acclaimed for his work and rightfully praised, it has brought an influx of creepy and weird fans. they come with pretty much every fandom, to be honest. the key is to curate your experience online and mind your business as much as you can - there are still amazing people in the community!

the d*ddy thing was a joke like, over a year ago, but now it is beyond disturbing. during a panel, one interviewer addressed pedro with the usual "you being the internet's d*ddy" and pedro immediately cut her off. immediately. no hesitation. "this is what we're starting with?" this man is fed up. and latinos have been saying for years that what some white fans are straight up fetishizing him (as well as oscar isaac and diego luna) and they don't give a flying fuck unless it involves them personally. it's sickening and tiresome.

what's more disturbing is knowing that if he were a woman, things wouldn't have gone this far, and if they did, they would've been shut down in an instant. it doesn't make it okay to talk about his genitals or what he'd be like in bed just because he's a man. he's a real person with real feelings, and with digital footprint being very much a thing, he could just see all these comments some folks so carelessly leave. honestly if he were to pull a chris pine and ditch social life altogether and get a flip phone, i'd love that for him.

#answered #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom

12 notes · View notes

defdaily · 4 years ago

Text

THE STAR Magazine April 2021 Issue featuring JAY B

Translated by defdaily.

GOT7’s eternally sincere leader JAY B. A friendly interview where you can feel his warm-heartedness.

*This interview was done in informal language to give off the feeling of two friends chatting*

It has been a while since we last met for GOT7’s feature in 2017.

Right, hi. I’m JAY B. Nice to meet you. Have you eaten?

JAY B has been chosen to be on the cover of THE STAR’s 8th anniversary issue.

Dobby is free now. (Laughs). I’m a freelancer now but I still can’t believe the fact that I was chosen to be on the cover of THE STAR’s anniversary issue. I’m so thankful to THE STAR for choosing me to be on the cover so I worked extra hard during the shoot.

How are you doing these days? We’re curious to know what you have been up to.

A freelancer’s daily life is always similar. I work when there is work and rest when there isn’t. I was busy recently organising this and that to release GOT7’s digital single ENCORE. I took the lead and there were many things I needed to figure out such as paperwork. So I was very proud. The members have all joined agencies but I want to take a little more time and think about it carefully before choosing. I’m still a freelancer.

Does the freelancing life suit you?

I don’t know if it suits me but it’s fun. Now work-related calls come to me directly, so I would be asleep then receive a call. I’d go “Ah I fell asleep for a moment, sorry. What is this about?” (Laughs). Since I do even these kinds of small communications myself, it’s nice and fascinating to realise the value of work and opportunities. If I didn’t have this time and experience, I think I might have not realised the value of work as much. I used to be on edge at times when the managers used to tell me things in the past. But now that I’ve learnt how much processing has been done before the information reached me, I feel sorry. Now I have a heart full of gratitude for opportunities.

I don’t know if it’s because you’re a freelancer now, but you seem much brighter than before.

Dobby is free now. (Laughs) I’m joking. Of course it was very helpful having a company. But now that I do everything myself, I feel more satisfied. I enjoy it.

The GOT7 members have all started solo activities. It must not have been easy for everyone, how did you come to your decision?

Right. It definitely was not easy. The seven of us researched a lot so that we can continue as GOT7 together. But then we thought that we should broaden our view so each of us could end up in a better situation. In the process, what we each wanted changed a little and, there is a future that each person dreams of right? The company said we did everything we could do on our part and that they will cheer us on in the future, that made me feel proud. We are also very thankful to the company. I felt that we received a lot of protection under a large umbrella. After all, the company is like the mother that gave birth to GOT7, so I’m thankful to them and respect them. I also thought a lot and looked into a lot of things about how to continue as GOT7. I also went to the president and asked him for advice, and I greeted and thanked Jinyoungie hyung for everything.

While preparing for new activities, what was the thing most discussed amongst the members?

“So what is it that you want to do?” “So what do you want to do?” We asked that a lot. So everyone said “We have to do it" So I asked again “No, not 'I have to', but do you want to do this? Or do you not want to do this?” If you are going to do something, you should do it properly, right? If you are not going to do something with an active attitude, I think it’s better to not do it. So we all came together and decided to give it a try.

It’s clear that you are GOT7’s leader.

One advice the company president told me was that my talent and effort as a leader starts now. Personally handling matters related to our recent digital single, I felt this “Taking the lead as a leader, I need to really work hard.” There was a lot of pressure, but if I don’t do it, who would. It pushed me to work hard.

You mentioned very clearly in your social media livestream that “GOT7 did not disband.” I felt your affection towards the team, what does GOT7 mean to JAY B?

One extremely important thing in my life. Actually, it’s an indispensable part. I’m thankful for the fact that our team exists. You have to know that because GOT7 existed, we individually exist too. It wouldn't matter if my beginning was as a solo, but my beginning was as GOT7. That's what made me who I am now.

How is Lim Jaebeom different as JAY B within GOT7, JJ Project, Jus2 and ØFFSHORE?

Comprehensively they’re all sides of me but if I have to split them, they would be a novel vibe versus an essay vibe. ØFFSHORE and Def. are all about music I like, regardless of genres, and honest stories I want to tell. As for GOT7, JJ Project and Jus2, we would have a particular concept and make it a bit more fancy.

Most of the songs you have shown on SoundCloud are R&B genres with a groovy feel. Have you ever had a conflict between music you want to do and music you have to do?

I felt that I needed to work harder to prove [myself] to do what I wanted to do. I can’t always be spoon-fed. To prove [myself] I made more GOT7 tracks and sent around 15~20 demos. Later on Jinyoung hyung and the president acknowledged me and said “Jaebeom will take care of the musical aspect. You can trust him with that.” I felt really proud hearing that. I don’t really feel a sense of conflict between the musical differences. From pop and R&B to folk and modern rock, I don't want to draw lines between genres and make music that sounds good.

We are curious about the music JAY B will show alone and what you’ll pursue. What stories do you want to tell?

I want to do a variety of things. Alone, I think I will try mixing genres and do things that are fun and experimental. I can also do R&B pop or Urban genres which I’ve originally liked. But that might change later on.

Is there an artist you’d like to collaborate with in the future?

Someone with a pleasant tone to listen to. Even now, when I listen to music and I like the artist’s tone, I send them a DM asking if they’d like to collaborate. And Korea's top hip hop artist, IU-nim. Do you think it's possible? (Laughs).

Then would you like to send a message to IU?

Suddenly? Um… I will work very hard. If by chance you think my song is alright, I would love for you to add your nice voice to them. (Laughs)

An appearance that may seem cold with a tsundere charm. But what do you think your real personality is like?

I’m the type that is quiet and calm, but people close to me tell me I’m a weird person. When I cry reading a book or watching a movie, or when I get emotional they say “It’s so weird, it doesn’t suit you.”

Are you the tender type?

I think I just often get hit by waves of emotions.

We’re curious about the lifestyle you seek and your values.

To live each day without any regrets.

Is there a place you’d like to visit after COVID-19 ends?

Kyoto, Japan. It’s a place where there is a lot of Japanese heritage and it’s also pretty.

Recently you have combined your two Instagram accounts @jaybnow.hr and @def.cnvs, what was the reason?

I’m the one doing everything after all, it is just the musical name that was different. I can’t split my body into two. I realised I could combine them into one account and just show the difference within it. And as I get older, it’s hard to manage two accounts. (Laughs). Was I too honest? Now I'm confused about what's what.

Was there any other moment that made you feel old?

I don’t do much and my whole body aches. In the past, my body wouldn’t get affected by the weather. Now when the weather is gloomy my back hurts and my knees go numb. (Laughs).

I can see that you’re interested in artistic aspects such as photography, painting and fashion etc. Do these things influence your music?

Of course. They affect the way you live in itself. I’m a person who wants to express and leave behind what I feel. Calling myself an artist feels somehow cocky.

What are you interested in recently?

It’s not art but I’m interested in moving around. Living as a freelancer, I spent more time lying down at home, but now I need a fast-paced daily life. I try to wake up in the morning to eat breakfast and nutritional supplements then go outside to photosynthesize and soak in the world. Everyone has to keep moving. (Laughs).

Are you interested in fashion and lifestyle curation and design etc?

I don’t think I’m a person who dresses up exceptionally well, but if someone asks I’d be willing to help.

What would you introduce as JAY B’s preference?

Freedom. Regarding fashion too, I liked vintage and grunge styles but recently I’m interested in work look and amecage styles. My preference keeps changing. I can't define myself clearly either, but I like the sense of being free.

What inspires you?

Many situations and people, my experiences as well as indirect experiences.

How do you have an indirect experience?

Watching movies and reading books. Nowadays I read song lyrics and unfold the scenes in my head. I try to think of various points of view in these one-act plays.

To JAY B, love is?

Nonexistent. A moment. I don’t know. As you live life, I think falling in love is a momentary emotion. If it lasts long, I think it’s affection not love. I'm a person who has to talk about love, but sometimes I wonder if it’s okay to feel this way. There are also many different forms of love. The love that my parents give me and the love that my fans send me. I’m thankful for everything.

While promoting for 10 years, what was the happiest moment and most lacking point?

I feel like every moment until now has been somehow lacking. Whenever you look back you end up thinking “I should’ve done better back then.” I think everyone feels that way. But I never regret those times I’ve spent. The happiest instance was when I spotted my parents at a fanmeeting and ran to them and held them while singing. It felt like I was boasting to my fans “These people are my father and mother,” and it also felt like I was showing my parents how I was receiving that many fans’ love and support. I'm thankful that the fans looked at my family happily at that moment.

Have you ever had a slump?

I don't think about something if I think I'm going to fall into something serious, but I'm the type who gets stressed out to do something new.

You are loved not only in Korea but also abroad, have you ever thought about why your fans like you so much?

A lot. I just don't understand. I'm not even popular among my friends... Why on earth?

Think of at least one thing.

Maybe it’s because I worked hard steadily? To be honest, during the past 10 years I have never not tried my best on stage. I can say this with confidence. I’m thankful to be able to do what I like as a job. I have told the members about this previously, I’m sorry for not being affectionate to fans onstage. It’s my nature so I can’t help it. But I have never been indifferent as a singer onstage, that is a fact.

Your bucket list that you surely want to achieve this year?

Being healthy mentally and physically. Since the members have started their solo activities this year, I think I should release an album as well.

Any words for the readers?

Everyone, I’m not saying this as a formal greeting but I really want to say thank you. Hmm… How should I put this? Don’t worry since we are not disbanding. That’s why I tried hard to release the digital single. Continuing on I’m going to try my best to do as much as I can. You might feel disappointed at times along the way, and I apologize in advance for that. But what I can promise is that I’m going to do my best. Thank you so much for supporting me for 10 years. You all know this already, but I’m not so good at things like sending hearts and saying thanks affectionately. I just want to speak sincerely. Thank you so much. I hope everyone will be more happy, not just because you like and support us… I could sound arrogant saying it like this but... I hope our fans are sturdy people who will find their own small sources of happiness in their daily lives even if that isn’t us. And I hope everyone is happy. I’m so thankful and I want to ask you to trust me.

Lastly let us know your future plans.

We will try our best to match our times and do GOT7, JJ Project and Jus2 etc. no matter what. Even if our times don’t match somehow, we’ll try our best to gather even 4 or 5 people and return, so don’t worry. And Dobby is free now. (Laughs). I will do my best in everything. I've made a lot of songs and I'm diligently working on songs right now too, so look forward to it. You’ll be able to listen to it soon. Thank you. This has been GOT7 JAY B. Please give lots of love to The Star’s April issue!

Translated by defdaily.

#jay b #jb #jaebeom #def #defsoul #got7 #got7 jb #got7 jaebeom

108 notes · View notes

not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years ago

Text

Silly Little Symphony - Bakugou Katsuki

Track 1: Paralyzer- Finger Eleven

—/—

Bakugou is not a fan of half-assing things.

He hates it, despises it actually. Bakugou feels like anything worth doing deserves 100% effort, and if you give it any less than that you might as well not even attempt it in the first place. That’s his motto and that’s what he sticks with and that’s what he’s doing right now, too. Obviously.

Except- why does it feel like he has to convince himself?

It’s like there’s this lingering feeling in his mind that he’s taking the easy way out. That he’s taking the cheater’s way out, but it’s- there’s just no other choice, alright?

Bakugou knows he’s a brave guy, knows that he could shred anything he set his sights on, but by that very same logic, he’s knows even more that he’s not a very soft guy. His feelings for you are his feelings, and yes he might acknowledge them, but that doesn’t mean he could ever communicate them delicately. Even when he runs fantasy scenarios in his head, the words still come out all wrong. They’re too loud and too brash and too forceful and you always end up offended.

Bakugou doesn’t want you to end up offended- at leasy more than you already have. So, he quickly decided on a different method of communication.

A playlist.

A playlist full of songs that convey what he’s been wanting to, but also sound angry and scary and tough- because he’s a tough guy who listens to nothing but rock and punk and metal, and has definitely has not searched up songs with your name in the title before, and has definitely not then added those songs to his library. Because that’s ridiculous and soft, and like determined before, Bakugou Katsuki is not soft.

What he actually is, is a guy with a playlist full of specially-curated songs. And a guy with absolutely no idea how to give them to you.

The thing is, he’s read manga and watched movies and read all sorts of articles about these types of confessions (not that he’d ever admit that), but none of those felt like him. He was not a smooth talker or a brazen flirt or even just a kind guy- no, Bakugou was mean and loud, and he knew full well that he’d much sooner be cast as the antagonist than the romantic lead.

So all of that was a problem, and then you also currently didn’t even like him. You made it very clear, though every sneer and comment and biting comeback, that only feeling you held for him was begrudging respect- and even that was only on the battlefield. Once he stepped out of the hero uniform than you were back to hating him, and he only made it worse with every childish insult he threw your way. Bakugou knew it was a stupid way to get your attention, but it was also the most efficient one; and he was a man of efficiency.

So that left him here- pining the same way he had been for weeks, staring down into a playlist full of songs he couldn’t figure out how to play for you.

He sneaks a look at you, red eyes just barely skimming over top of the bus seats. You’re sitting a few rows ahead, sharing a snack with Tsuyu.

Bakugou thinks you’re stupid. He thinks you’re stupid for eating junk food right before a day of training, and he thinks you’re stupid for choosing to sit all the way in front like a nerd, and most of all he thinks you’re stupid for sharing your snack with that damn frog face when he’s right there. And obviously much better in every comparable, concievable way. Obviously.

Bakugou presses his headphones more securely into ears, and slouches down deep into his seat. All he can see now is the back of the seat, and he thinks that’s a better alternative. At least it won’t piss him off- not like the sight of you, sitting up front and laughing where he can’t hear, will.

With a grunt, he hits shuffle on his playlist, turning the volume to max. He closes his eyes dropping his head against the window. Drum fills and a guitar riff flood his ears, and he’s relaxing a bit, sinking into the sound, and all is well and good until-

Well just look at that girl with the lights coming up in her eyes. She's got to be somebody's baby.

God dammit.

Fuck Phantom Planet. Bakugou thinks. Fuck them.

Then he’s growling as he hits the skip button, throwing his phone onto the seat next to him.

—/—

As it turns out, all Bakugou needed was to beat the ever-loving shit out of something.

Cracking his palms and shaking his limbs, Bakugou launches at another robot. He thinks the machines feel weak under his explosions, almost offensively feeble in their construction. Like all of U.A’s staff went braindead that morning- like they couldn’t even bother to cook him up a worthy opponent.

When Bakugou looks around, that’s clearly not a shared statement. There’s the usual standouts of course, stupid deku and stupid icyhot and even stupid dunce face is doing well for once, but the rest of them are average. Mediocre. Completely and utterly inferior to him- and then you enter.

Your quirk, blink, is a bit useless in this scenario, but you’re not letting that stop you. There’s purpose in your movements, quick and controlled actions as you strap your home-made bombs around the base of each robot’s leg. Machines don’t blink, so you’re shit out of luck for your main speed ability, but your training makes up the difference. With practiced ease you’ve darted out from beneath the robot’s feet, and then you’re hitting the detonate on your remote.

Bakugou thinks you look unreasonably fucking cool as you sprint away from the blast. So cool in fact, that he might even consider your tech explosions as cool as his quirk ones. Maybe.

Bakugou wipes his palms, muffling a yawn. He’d blown up all his assigned robots ages ago, and now was left kicking rocks and generally doing nothing.

This training was supposed to act as a benchmark test- the idea was to drop a similar opponent into the ring, one that emulated the entrance exam, to test how far everyone had come since the beginning of the semester. It could’ve been good in theory, but Bakugou thought it was just a waste of time. Robot’s were easy for him then and they sure as hell were easy for him now.

Still though, he was the first one to kill all his robots, so not all was lost. Bakugou still walked away a winner and that meant he was feeling much better than earlier.

Smirking with shameless pride, Bakugou saunted to the exit area. More students began to file in after him, and he kept mostly quiet, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut when you walked past him.

“Fuckin’ fifth? With your overpowered-ass quirk?” He sneers, voice loud. “Waste of talent.”

Bakugou watches spin on your heels, watches your face melt into something deadly. You’re storming towards him, and he can’t even think past hoping you’d get a little closer.

“Robot’s don’t fucking blink, you jackass.” You’re red in the face and glaring, hands curling into fists at your sides. “You try getting. anything done without your quirk. Asshole.”

Then you’re stomping away, hardly giving him a second look as you cheer on your friends.

Bakugou can’t even begin to decipher what possessed him, to say those words, but he’s also not surprised. His words always come out wrong and he can’t say anything nice without wanting to scratch away his skin.

What he really wanted to say was that you were impressive even without your quirk. That you were admirably smart and tactical and well-prepared with your own bombs, and he thought that you looked really hot sprinting away from the wreckage- but that’s not what he said. Of course that’s not what he said.

Well, there goes his good mood. No amount of previous wins could ever distract him from how much of a loss that interaction was.

Eventually the rest of the class finishes, and then they’re all gathering breathless and tired back to the bus. Unfortunately, Kaminari fried himself completely and Mineta managed to break an ankle and that meant that they needed their own seats. That also meant that two people who had their own seats on the ride there, would now be sharing on the way back.

As shitty luck would have it, the class chose drawing straws as the deciding factor, and even worse than that, Bakugou got the shortest straw. The day was already shaping up to be pretty frustrating, but when you pulled the second-shortest straw it got even worse.

“We can always share instead, L/n!” Tsuyu’s says, hand on your shoulder and voice mediating. “Really. I don’t mind.”

Bakugou watched you sigh for a moment, and then you’re turning your head towards him. Your eyes meet his and Bakugou can’t help the smirk that rolls across his face- you’re looking at him and paying attention to him and even if it’s just you making a point he still likes that attention. He watches you squint your eyes at him in response, voice hard and steely as you speak to Tsuyu.

“No. It’s alright. We picked staws, and fair is fair.” Your squint morphs into a glare. “And besides, I’m not gonna let that smug bastard throw a fit into getting out of this.”

The statement should piss him off, and if anyone else said it it would’ve, but Bakugou finds it does the opposite. It just reaffirms how brave you are and how you’re not scared of him like everyone else is and how much he likes you for it- not that he’d ever tell you any of those things.

To save face, Bakugou instead pretends to be pissed about your words, his palms popping and crackling as he glares right back. He hopes it looks like a genuine threat and not a panic reaction, because really he just thinks you look so cool talking back to him directly like that and he definitely doesn’t know what to do with that. So instead he does what always works; what always makes him feel better when he gets a feeling too big to handle- he preps to blow shit up.

“Calm down, man. It’s just a seat.” Kirishima comes up behind him, pressing a water bottle into Bakugou’s crackling palms. “Here, take this and please don’t blow up the bus. Or L/n. That’d be so totally not heroic of you.”

“Shut the hell up.”

“No I’m serious, dude. Chill out, okay? L/n’s actually pretty nice once you get to know her.”

“I said, shut the hell up, Shitty Hair!” Bakugou barks, gritting his teeth.

Then he’s shoving his palms into his pockets, leaving Kirishima and the water behind, and stalking towards the bus before anyone else does. Bakugou figures that if he’s got to share a seat, then at least he’s going to be the one sat next to the window. He’ll make sure of it.

Still, there’s something sitting heavy in his stomach though- how does Kirishima know you’re nice?

The comment made his blood boil. Bakugou thinks it’s strange because usually he’s pretty tolerant of his friend, and even finds himself enjoying his company sometimes, but those words pissed Bakugou off. Pissed him off a lot.

”Wow, don’t look so goddamn thrilled.” You say sardonically, and Bakugou watches you drop into the seat next to him. “Might accidentally think you tolerate me, blasty.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that. Useless extra.”

Bakugou wants to smash his head into a wall- because why the fuck did he just say that?

Oh yeah, because apparently his jealousy was plastered all over his face, clear enough for you to comment on it. And even if you didn’t know that’s what the expression was, he’d still rather bite your head clean off than admit it was there in the first place.

“Yeah, whatever. I don’t want to fight.” You say, clenching your jaw as you settle back into the seat. “Look, it’ll be easier for both of us if we don’t talk, so I’ll just sit here and not bother you, alright?”

“Fine. Shut the hell up then.”

Once again, Bakugou wants to obliterate himself.

He doesn’t know why he can’t just tell you- why he can’t just say that he wants you to keep talking to him and that he wants you to keep snarking back at him. Why he can’t just say that he thinks your voice is one of the least grating ones in the whole class.

He thinks all of those things, but says none. Instead he keeps a fist clenched as his sides, scowling as he pulls out his headphones. He makes an intentional effort not to play your playlist and instead hits shuffle on all his music. He’d hoped that the loud drums and guitars would settle his emotions, but they didn’t. Nearly 10 minutes have passed and Bakugou’s as riled up as ever, but he’s also now completely convinced you’re trying to kill him.

You’re shifting in your seat, your arms extending out as you slip on your jacket. There’s little room, and every time you shuffle the sleeves to adjust them, you’re knocking your shoulders into his.

Then you stop.

You just stop and you go still and his skin isn’t tingling anymore and Bakugou is all kinds of pissed all over again. Because of you he’s nervous and flustered and you have the audacity to just sit there, unaffected. He has to snarl just to keep himself from blushing when he speaks.

“Why the fuck were you touching me?”

“It’s a small seat and I was putting on a jacket.” You reply, short and clipped. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

“Tch. Just don’t do it again. And shut up the fuck up already.”

“You- you talked to me first!”

“And? Who the fuck cares?” Bakugou grunts, turning the volume of his music up. “Now shut up.”

Jesus christ. Bakugou thinks to himself. Maybe I should just blow myself up for once.

Another few minutes pass, and Bakugou swears he’s really is dying. You’re still so close to him and he’s feeling very, very flustered, and while he doesn’t love the idea that you’re mad at him, he can’t say he hates the look on your face right now either. You’ve got your jaw clenched and your eyebrows set low and your hands are balled into fists as you steadfastly ignore him. Bakugou thinks you look scary- fucking terrifying.

He likes terrifying.

“Hey.” You suddenly nudge him with your shoulder, pointing to his earbuds. “I can hear it- your music. Turn it down.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because that’s basic courtesy.”

“What the fuck makes you think I have that, hah?”

“Oh my god, you’re fucking impossible.” You rolls your eyes, heaving a frustrated sigh. “Listen, if you’re gonna keep it up that loud then at least skip that song. It’s shit.”

Bakugou glances down at his screen.

Fucking Nickleback.

Jesus, could his day get any worse?

“Shut the hell up.” He snaps, squinting his eyes. “What the fuck do you know about good music? You don’t know shit.”

“I know that song sucks, so skip it. If you’re gonna accost me with loud music at least make it good.” You bite back, and then Bakugou watches as your face melts into an easy smirk. “Unless... all your music is that terrible?”

“Sounds like you’re pickin’ a fuckin’ fight!”

“I am, you asshole!”

Bakugou doesn’t know when the two of you got so close, but now you’re only inches away. He’s got his palms up and you’ve got your lips pulled back into a snarl and suddenly the bus seat seems so much smaller. It’s so much smaller and all Bakugou can think about is the red in your cheeks and the fire in your eyes and how much he likes the sight of both.

“Just skip the song or turn it down.” You finally huff, falling back in your seat, and all Bakugou can think about is how that breathe would’ve been on his cheek if it was two seconds ago.

Bakugou is mad. He’s mad at you and your stupid witch powers that leave the air feeling cold and your stupid breaths that he can’t stop focusing on and your stupid comment. Your stupid comment that had his blood burning in his veins and irritation settling in his temple.

Bakugou listened to cool music, okay? Cool, loud music for cool, loud guys. You just insulted that, insulted him so this wasn’t just a means of confessing feelings anymore, it was a pride thing and that’s why he says what he said next. It’s definitely not because this was the golden chance he’d been waiting for.

“My music is fuckin’ good.” He growls, and then he’s yanking an earbud out and shoving it towards you. “I’ll fucking show you. Now shut up and listen.”

“So goddamn pushy, jesus.”

“You gonna fuckin’ take it or not?”

“Oh my god. Fine.”

Bakugou watches you fit the earbud into your ear, his mouth set into a determined line. He knew he’d fucked up every other part of this conversation, monumentally fucked them up even, but he wouldn’t mess this up. He was prepared and this was the chance he was waiting for. Only an absolute idiot could mess this up and Bakugou Katsuki was not an idiot.

So he plays the first song he’d added to your playlist. Paralyzer.

To his surprise, you start nodding your head almost immeadiately. You know this song. The drum fill starts and then you’re looking over at him, giving him the tiniest little smirk of approval.

“Not bad, blasty.”

“Fucking told ya.” He can’t help the pride that swells in him at your validation. It’s warm and heavy in his chest, nearly drawing a smile out of him- and then he remembers he’s supposed to be mad. “And I told you, don’t fucking call me that.”

“I’ll call you by your name when you call me by mine.”

“Wipe the smirk off your stupid fucking face,” Bakugou growls. “Or I’ll blast it off.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes! Fuckin’ try me, extra!”

“Okay.” You huff a laugh at him. “Don’t blink then. Champ.”

Then you’re raising your hand, shoving it in his face and snapping before he can stop you. Bakugou flinches out of reflex and by the time he’s opened his eyes, you’ve already used your super-speed ability.

You’re sitting back against the seat, calm and collected and smirking, with both of Bakugou’s earbuds in your ears. You’ve got his phone in your hand and he watches you twist the cord around your finger, cross your legs casually and he’s stunned. He’s pissed that you got the better of him, but he also just really thinks you’re hot when you’ve won. He watches in dazed silence as you turn up the volume on his phone to max.

Well I'm not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you. I want to make you move because you're standing still.

Bakugou decides two things in that moment: One, he fucking hates Finger Eleven. And two, he wants to blow the entire fucking bus to smithereens.

—/—

eee i hope u all enjoy, but especially u @bakugouswh0r3 and @definitelynottrin :))

#bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha fic #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #mha fic #bakugou x you #bakugou fic

150 notes · View notes

randomingoftherandomness · 4 years ago

Text

Secrets I Have Held In My Heart

A/N: Modern!AU, Soulmate!AU, Soul Mark!AU, Angst, OT3.

This is quite honestly one of the longest things I’ve ever done in one sitting. I am exhausted. My prose and tenses are probably everywhere and I am so sorry for it. Enjoy x

(Edit 20/1/2021) It has recently come to my attention that lies and slander have been spread about my character amongst persons in this OT3 community. They are malicious lies made with the intent to cast a shadow over my credibility and my good standing in this community. I only ask that you come talk to me first before you believe the horrible things that have been levelled about me.

Please take care of yourselves x

Booker smiles placidly when he catches Joe's eye from across the room and let's the pretenses drop the moment he ducks out into hallway, finding a spot of quiet from all the music and chatter of celebration in the living room. He really should be happy but as it is with heartbreaks, happiness is something you can only fake until it feels real.

He opens the door when the doorbell rings and kisses the cheeks of the latecomers in greeting. They awkwardly avoid his eye with shifty smiles as they shuffle past him. Booker doesn't blame them. It's an awkward fucking situation all around.

Joe's warm and happy laughter carries through the air, and Booker just feels his heart twist in his chest. The sight of his head of curls bobbing along in the joy of whatever joke one of their friends was making while his arm was slung intimately low around Nicky's waist was unbearable. Booker has enough self-respect in him to recognise it as jealousy.

He has been in love with his best friend for almost as long as he has known him. It had been ridiculously easy for them; Joe had no soul marks and neither had Booker, so it was the most natural thing to move in together after they'd both hit 33 and when Booker decided to offer his fine art restorer skills up to go freelance, they make plans to spend the rest of their lives together. It made sense and they were happy. Booker had had no intentions of ever letting Joe know how he had truly felt and that was the mistake.

It isn't that he dislikes Nicky.

The man was beyond perfect and Booker could have never hoped to compare. From the briefest of familiarities, he knows that Nicky was a former theology student who left the seminary and is now deep in his work with a local NGO, well on his way to maybe working for the UN some day. He volunteers at a local shelter, helps at his church's soup kitchen, is handsome and funny, is a fucking Saint personified and looks great next to Joe when Booker looks like a twice drowned rat on his best day. It isn't that he hates the man. It's just that, well, Nicky isn't him.

Booker knew something had changed then. Joe had never looked at him the way he had when his and Nicky's eyes first met. And he knows Joe like he knows his own mind and there won't be any one as trusting or as kind. If he tells him he loves him, Joe would stay and he'd be Booker's, but that's not how love works and so he waits until the day they're both on the sofa watching a game and Joe turns to him to say, "Nicky's my soulmate."

Just like that. And because he could never hurt Joe, he smiles, nodding. "I figured he was. Congratulations man. That's amazing!"

There had been an indescribable look that crossed Joe's face when he said that but he hadn't lingered on it for too long. Joe's soul mark was on his left forearm set in stark, bold lines; a scimitar and a longsword threaded together with roses and thorns. Pretty cool and Booker made sure to tell him so.

That had been three months ago. Three months of waiting for the other shoe to drop, the inevitable moment when Joe says he's gonna move out and into Nicky's unit. For the second it hits his best friend that there really wasn't a place for someone like him in this equation. Two months of sitting around until he wraps up his current contract with the museum in the city and the curator takes him aside to ask him if he would be interested in working for a private collector in Turkey. Two years to work on a team of freelancers. Two years on the other side of the continent. Booker said yes with no hesitation.

"Hey, you good?"

Booker knocks his bottle of beer to Copley's. He is one of the newer persons to join their friend group but it feels like they've know each other for a very long time. His warm smile anchors Booker to the here and now and he is stupidly grateful for his presence. The man was steadfast and calm, and it made sense to Booker that he'd be the only one he told about his leaving. "Yeah. I'm ready to go whenever you are."

He'd snuck a duffle bag of his things out to Copley's house the day before and then two suitcases when Joe was over at Nicky's last night. Right before the party to celebrate Joe's birthday, he had brought his carry on out to Copley's car. His name was still on the lease and he has left instructions to help pay for his part of the rent until the end of the year if Joe would like to continue staying here. Copley will help ship the rest of his things after a month. All that's left to do is leave.

Joe had been looking forward to introducing Nicky to his family and friends, and this party was perfect for it. Booker feels bereft at the thought that this could be the last time he sees him in a long while and he cranes his neck to spy him in the center of the room, accepting a kiss from Nicky as the birthday cake is brought out from the kitchen. He holds that image of Joe, smiling from ear to ear and hopes he won't hate him too much for leaving without saying goodbye.

"Let's go."

His Turkish is passable at best but he gets by well enough. The rest of the restoration team were up and coming names mixed with pioneers in the field and despite the lingering heart ache, Booker finds himself pleasantly settled and happy with the work he gets to do. Everyone seems to be equally as excited as he is to be working on their employer's personal collection of paintings and sculptures, in addition to the rare books that Booker has never seen outside of museums and archives.

It's good work and it keeps him busy. It stops him from thinking about Joe too much.

Booker had found thirteen missed calls and twenty texts and ten voicemails when he lands. He hesitates only for a moment before deleting everything that wasn't from Copley or his work.

As if sensing he was being summoned by thought, his phone rings as he basks in the afternoon sunshine whilst reading a book on his off day, Copley's name flashes on his screen.

"You still alive, then?"

"Alive and kicking," Copley says over the line with a laugh. "I swear, Joe is going to eviscerate me one of these days."

Booker shakes his head, marking his page and setting his book aside. The sunlight feels good on his skin and he takes a deep lungful of air. "He won't. He's way too nice."

"You didn't see him glare when I packed the last of your things into the boxes. They're shipped, by the way. Should reach you in a week tops."

"Thanks. I owe you big time."

"Oh, you owe me more than big time. When I come over to visit, I want you pulling out all the stops for me. I want the five star experience, Mr Booker. No expense spared," Copley chuckles.

"Alright, alright," Booker laughs. "I'm sure I can rustle something up. Just let me know when, alright?"

Copley hums and they fall into a comfortable pause. "How are you? Really. Don't lie."

He tightens his grip on his phone, swallowing tightly. "I miss him every day but that's not new. I think I'll keep missing him for a while yet."

"That's normal. I'm not surprised. I think he misses you too, you know?"

"He has Nicky now. He doesn't need me. I'm... I'm just his best friend with a stupid crush that had made plans to spend the rest of my life with him. I don't fit in it any more and he deserves more than I could ever give him," He swallow tightly, licking his lips. "Copley, he'll be okay."

"But will you?"

Booker doesn't have an answer to that. When his things arrive a week and a half later, he accepts it and begins to unpack his books. He's grateful to have his familiar favourites and is eager to fill his shelves when he spots the edges of an envelope peeking out of a battered copy of Neruda. It was a letter and it was addressed to him, though the handwriting is unfamiliar to him.

Dear Sebastien, it starts and this clues him in that this person isn't someone who knows him well. No one outside of his employers and colleagues call him Sebastien.

I hope you don't mind. I'll be slipping this along with the books. I really do hope it finds you well. I don't have your number and judging by the way Joe seems to not receive a reply from you, you might have changed it. I would ask it from Copley but I do not know him well enough and you deserve someone you can speak to without any awkwardness. I write this letter because I want to know you better. It occurred to me that we have never exchanged more than a handful of words whenever we meet and it was always about Joe. I found myself curious about you even if it feels like I know you from all that Joe talks about you. He still talks about you. Even if it is in confusion as to why you left us. I don't write to judge you. I just want to be your friend. If you are amenable, please send your reply to me care of the address on the back of this paper. I hope that you do. I won't tell Joe if you don't want me to.

Sincerely, Nicky.

Booker flips the paper and sees that it's for the church he'd half-remembered being the one that Joe had mentioned off-handedly once. He rereads the words, thrown by the whole thing. He tucks it into his pocket, pushing it to the back of his mind as he focuses on unpacking his life. But the shape of it digs against his skin and he cannot help unfolding it every few minutes to read it all over again.

Each word was carefully pressed and written with intent. He finds his thumb brushing over the looping Joe, but it is the careful He still talks about you that decides things for him.

Scratching his chest absently, he tears out an empty page from his notebook as writes, If we're going to be friends, you'd better call me Booker.

The seasons change and his correspondence with Nicky grows from a weekly letter to every few days, to Booker posting a letter only to receive a reply for the one he sent two days ago when he arrives back in his flat. Booker takes to sending a box of baklava over an overnight service and Nicky sends him a handwritten recipe for his Nonna's tomato soup when Booker off-handedly mentions a sniffle.

Eventually it gets easier to talk about Joe and Booker tells Nicky on what he likes and what he doesn't, how to best care for him; he's allergic to a certain brand of detergent, he always forgets his scarf in the depths of winter so always stuff one in his coat pocket, he loves it when you caress his hair, he doesn't support any team in football but he loves watching a game and he always chooses the team that starts on the right side of the pitch, ask his mother for her recipe for lamb stew and make that for him when he's having a busy week.

Nicky never seems to be bothered by him telling him all these things and in turn, Booker learns that Nicky cannot function before his first cup of coffee, that he misses the quiet of his life in the seminary but he is glad he can do more as he is, that he has a few kids that he works with that he is hoping will get into gifted programmes that can help them excel in academia, that if he hadn't done the almost priest route, he would have been a doctor or a medic.

It was ridiculously effortless to be friends with Nicky and he finds himself actually looking forward to his letters and random bits and bobs in the mail. Sometimes Nicky sends Booker Joe’s sketches and he keeps them up on his bedside, keeping them in sight as he falls asleep at night. Other times there’s a picture or two, taken by Nicky, of Joe. Joe on the corner of the sofa, curled up and dozing, Joe eyes crinkling as he laughs at something. Joe with those ridiculous sunglasses they bought on a whim over a very wet Welsh afternoon.

As the first chill of the season sets in, Booker asks about Joe.

He's fine. Missing you. We're heading to his family's beach house. He said you both used to go together?

Booker finds that he can smile a little easier when the memories come or when it is brought up that Joe misses him. It still tastes a little bittersweet but he can be happy about how he had the chance to experience these things with Joe. Even if he hadn't been the one to keep having them.

Yes. He writes, But you both can do this together now. Make sure you pack extra blankets for yourself. I'm sure you know that he hogs them.

Nicky replies with a box of Marks and Spencer Welsh Cakes which Booker thanks with an assortment of Turkish Delights.

Their correspondence slows as the weather cools further. Copley, when he tells him about what’s happening over Skype, merely asks him if it i a good idea to be even putting himself in the same sphere as Joe and Nicky when he had moved across the continent just to get away from the heartbreak.

“I don’t see how it couldn’t be,” Booker says over the sizzling of the butter as he makes the cheese toasties that Joe used to love for breakfasts. He scratches at his chest, eyes watching the way the cheese oozes off its side.

“Mate, I don’t think you’re far removed enough to actually know how catastrophic this could be.”

“O ye, of little faith,” Booker huffs, flipping the toastie. “At some point I would like to be able to exist in the same city as him without melting into a puddle of heartbreak. If being friends with his soulmate helps get me there, I’m all for it.”

“You are a masochist, Mr Booker.”

Booker laughs even as he burns his finger on the pan.

He works harder than ever, learning and improving his own techniques under the tutelage of his colleagues and can appreciate the opportunity. There's already talks of him going to New York after the New Year's to accompany some of the artifacts that are being lent out for display. Booker is climbing the stairs up to his building, head down, free hand rubbing at his chest and reading through the latest methods of restoration on his phone when he bumps into a person rushing down.

“Oh, sorry--”

“Booker.”

Joe’s eyes are big and wide when their gazes meet. Booker blinks, breathes in deep before looking behind him to see Nicky watching them from his landing, exhaling shakily as he whispers, deep and with feeling, “What the fuck are you guys doing here?”

Nicky nurses his cup of tea from his lean against the window and deftly avoids the inquiring glare Booker keeps sending his way from the safety of the kitchen. Joe, on the other hand, is carefully prowling the space of his studio flat he has made home, obviously cataloguing the way his books sit on the shelf and the way he has kept the space marginally clean-ish, how there are pictures and sketches tacked to the wall behind the dining table, the clear signs of a life he has built here.

“Let me get this straight, you picked up Nicky’s mail from the church, saw my handwriting, and decided to come all the way to Turkey. Just to see me,” Booker says, gesturing at their backpacks leaning against his door. “Again, let me ask, why?”

“Why?” Joe laughs, throat clicking when the sound comes out rough and raw. “You ask me why I would fly out to Turkey in the middle of the holiday season just to see my best friend who left me without telling me he got a job in Turkey and was going to leave without even so much as a goodbye, and you are asking me why I would come all the way out here just to chase you down? Are you perhaps short of a marble!”

“And what was I supposed to do! Linger around you when I was dying every single time I looked at you and knew I wasn’t your soulmate? We were going to spend our lives together, Joe! I loved you!”

Booker slaps his hand over his mouth and turns away, focusing on his breathing. “You love me?” Joe says softly in the stillness of the flat.

“I did. I do and I’m sorry,” He sighs, feeling his chest shake with his trembling breath. He presses the heel of his hand to his sternum. “I do. And it’s okay, Joe. I know you don’t love me in that way. It’s okay. I just need some time away to figure out how to love you like you need me to.”

“And what do you know about what I need from you?”

Booker feels Joe come close and allows himself to be turned around to be face to face with him. “Do you know I love you too?”

“Yeah,” He chuckles wetly, rubbing his nose with the back a hand. “I’m your best friend.”

Nicky choose this moment to speak. “Booker, look at him and listen. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you in our letters. “

There’s an insistence in Nicky’s gaze that galvanises Booker to turn to Joe and meet his eyes head on. “I love you, Book. I always did. I still do. Even after the bullshit you’ve put me through.”

“But Nicky--” “Nicky’s my soulmate and I love him too.” Joe smiles, eyes gone liquor soft when Nicky returns his fond look. “But I’ve loved you for the longest time, Book. I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The itch on his chest starts to burn.

“And you’re alright with this?” Booker breathlessly asks Nicky, taking a step back. “This- This whole Love, Actually thing is a situation you’re okay with?”

“Yes,” Nicky says, standing to cross the distance between them. Joe reaches for him then, tenderly touching him by the elbow while Nicky slides a hand to his cheeks and Booker feels immediately overwhelmed. He parts his mouth to speak when he doubles over dropping to his knees when the fire spreading over the skin on his chest sends him to his knees gasping for air.

Joe keeps a hold on him while Nicky looks him over with clear worry. “Fuck!” Booker groans, trying to arch away. Clawing at his shirt, he tears at it until the buttons plink on the floor as they fall. For a moment, he does not register the dark lines that spread over his sternum. Running shaking fingers over his raw skin, Booker barely holds back the awed gasp at the scimitar and longsword twined together with thorns and roses.

“Well,” Nicky laughs softly, cupping him by the side of the head, sweeping him into a gentle kiss. In that second that their lips touch, Booker feels his heartbeat skip a notch. “I guess this answers things, doesn’t it?”

-- Epilogue --

“That’s the last of the boxes.”

Joe kicks the door shut behind him, dropping the bags in his hands to the floor, ignoring the evil eye sent his way by Nicky who had warned them against scuffing up the hardwood floors. Booker throws himself onto the sofa with a sigh and Joe, grinning like a maniac, does a running start before launching himself onto Booker.

“Oof!” And then after a beat and a wiggle. “Joe, you’re suffocating me and I can feel your dick against my ass.”

They’ve finally moved into their first home together. It had taken a bit more effort after Turkey to keep their fledgling relationship going but all’s well, ends well and Booker is back with them after finishing up his contract with glowing recommendations and growing his contact list. Joe was ridiculously proud and he knows Nicky feels the same too.

They’ll need to work hard over the next two days to spruce the place up in time for their housewarming. Their friends and families will be here and Joe cannot wait to show off his loves. Wrapping his arms around Nicky and pulling him along back to the sofa where Booker is, he basks in the happy warmth of feeling whole with his heart in one piece.

#joe x booker x nicky #booker x joe x nicky #joe x nicky x booker #the old guard fic #gab writes stuff #please dear god give me wisdom to never do this again #this was too long and i am FUCKING EXHAUSTED #I am going to bed

121 notes · View notes

script-nef · 4 years ago

Text

Fluff alphabets | Tsukishima Kei

Others: Hinata, Kageyama, Oikawa

Category: fluff

Affection: How affectionate is he? How does he show affection?

Tsukishima isn’t all that affectionate, but tries to make sure you know he loves you.

Like helping you with studies or buying you books which you commented on before. It shows he pays attention to everything you’ve said, even in passing.

From a salty and seemingly uncaring boy, that’s one of the best things you can ask for.

Baby: Does he want to start a family?

Have you seen this guy? He’s the type to despise babies and claim they’re nothing but crying and whining migraine producers.

If you absolutely want to have them, then he’s going to have a long talk with you. He doesn’t think he’ll be the best dad due to his personality but is willing to try if you’re absolutely adamant on the idea of kids.

Only one though. He really doesn’t think he can take more than that.

Cuddles: Does he like cuddling? How often does he like hugging?

If you ask for one, he’ll definitely hug you but not without blushing. He’s not very used to physical contact with others but slowly learns them with you.

Most of his hugs are him just towering over you and pulling you into his embrace. He’ll hug you whenever you’re feeling down or lonely, as if to say “I’m here for you.” Tsukishima may not seem like it, but he’s pretty attentive of your moods and conditions.

Date: What is a typical date?

You both love learning things, so dates are usually to informative places like museums, aquariums and art galleries. You would sometimes act as a curator and explain things in your specialty to him while he does the same.

You also go around quizzing each other on random exhibits like “what era do you think that was made?” and the person with the lower score after hours of walking around has to pay for lunch.

Experience: How much has he dated before? How does that reflect in this one?

He’s had plenty of confessions before but you’re the first one he accepted. It was a drunken confession after being friends for a year but his brain was clear enough to accept.

He’s not experienced and that added to his default personality, he had a lot to learn. Communication is key in a relationship and he also searches up what kinds of things a boyfriend should do.

You laughed when you found out he does that but it’s honestly very cute and adorable.

Fight: Do you fight often with him? How does it usually end?

Fights are common and incredibly messy. Lots of shouting and structured arguments from both sides because you’re both smart as hell and you gotta put those debate skills somewhere.

It ends once you both calm down and have a clear head.

Once you got heated up and yelled so much that your vocal cords got damaged and spat out a tiny bit of blood. Which made him stop immediately and run to the kitchen to get you some warm tea and then apologised.

Gentle: How does he treat you?

Verbally? Tsukishima is scathing. No sugarcoats, this boy is salt incarnate with a tongue sharp enough to cut through Wall Maria. You, of course, are the same. In university, everyone called you two “that fighting couple” because you guys were constantly bantering.

Of course, he treats you well because he drinks his ‘respect you lover’ juice. It’s hidden under a couple of mountains of salt, but this boy cares about you the most and constantly worries about you.

Hand: Does he like holding your hand? How often?

He often holds your hand outside so that he knows you’re not wandering off. He also likes comparing his hand size to yours and teases you saying “you’re so tiny” as if he wasn’t a 190cm titan.

He also holds your hand during movies, especially scary ones, to help you calm down and not be frightened so much. It sometimes turns into a competition to see who has a stronger grip which alleviates some of the tension.

Impression: What was your first impression of him?

Absolutely terrible. This was expected with his aloof personality and sharp remarks. You took a history class together in university.

You had to work together for a project and wow, things got off to a rough start. He was having a bad day and accidentally took it out on you. Of course, you didn’t back down and spat back insults as well. So shit went sideways real quick.

Your initial impression got better as you worked together but you still bring it up to this day. It makes him feel guilty but you laugh it off and say “who would have guessed we would go out?”

Jealousy: Does he get jealous easily? What sets him off?

A lot of other people ask you out because they either don’t know you’re dating him or doesn’t believe it. He had a reputation during university for being incredibly smart but also rude. They just can’t believe you’d go out with him.

But he doesn’t get jealous because:

1. You’re not his possession and can hang out with anyone you want

2. You’re dating and love him. Other people can love you but he’s the one with you at the end of the day, so who cares.

Kiss: Is he good at kissing? When does he kiss you?

Tsukishima is not fond of deep kisses because he doesn’t find the idea of exchanging saliva that attractive. However, he’s fine with any other ones.

He especially likes forehead and top-of-the-head kisses. It’s the easiest physically and comforts him as well.

Love: Who said “I love you” first? And when does he say it?

He said it first, half-awake. It was your weekly movie night and he was so tired from all the assignments and projects that he drifted off to sleep during the movie. It was near the end so you waited until the ending credits rolled.

Thankfully you were watching it in bed, otherwise you’d have to wake him up because you can’t carry him to bed. So you shifted him a bit to lay him down but he woke up from your movements.

He was super disorientated but the second he saw your face, he mumbled “love you…” then went straight back to sleep. He doesn’t remember it though.

When you told him about it, he refused to acknowledge it happened.

Memory: What’s his favourite memory with you?

When he came back home to see you sing his favourite song in the living room. It was his favourite song since childhood and brings up a lot of memories.

He put it on a lot and you like it too. He knows you don’t like singing in front of other people, but the fact that you’re singing it with ease and hitting every note perfectly reminds him how much time you spent together.

You blushed when you realised he came in but he just sat down next to you and said “keep singing, it’s good.” He smiles every time he hears it now because it reminds him of that time.

Nickname: Does he give you a nickname? Do you have one for him?

If you don’t reach his height, he calls you a midget. You could literally be 0.5, no wait, 0.1 cm shorter than him and he’d still taunt you with it while laughing. (You, shaking your fist: “This bitch…”)

In retaliation, call him beanpole or sequoia with a scowl. It doesn’t really affect him and he’ll be like “Oh, so you do know how tall I am compared to you.” But he loves it if you’re smaller than him because you fit into his embrace easily, and it feels like he’s protecting you.

(I also have this dream of calling my s/o “Tsuki” as in the moon which means “I love you”, from Natsume Souseki’s translation.)

Open: How open is he about his feelings?

Not really. He wouldn’t profess his love for you like Hinata (“Do I look like that single brain-celled volleyball maniac?”) but neither would he be completely silent on it.

He won’t say it out of the blue, totally unprompted, but once he’s comfortable and relaxed with you, it would slip out. Mostly in the form of a whisper, just so only you can hear his words.

PDA: Is he fine with PDA? How far can he go?

He doesn’t really like it but will, reluctantly, participate if you want to. His limit is just hand-holding, though. Hugs are once-in-a-blue-moon surprises in public.

He once had to live through the embarrassment of Hinata shrieking and gaining attention when you kissed him which ruined the entire PDA thing. His glare to the orange boy would have flayed him alive if you didn’t step in.

Quirk: Habits or something he does which is unexpected?

Is a history buff, but not one of those war ones. More like the ‘Age of the Dinosaurs’ ones. It’s obvious that he likes them but it’s to the point where he can literally recite facts about any of them. It gets more and more intense since he works at a museum now.

Whenever he finds a new fact or anecdote, he sends them to you so you can “become educated”. If you find some, text it over to him and he’ll say “thanks”.

Relax: What activities do you do with him to relax?

Baking. Strawberry shortcake, to be exact.

You made one for him when he told you that it was his favourite but it ended horribly because he said it tasted terrible. Even though others said it was fine.

So after that, he always insists on baking with you to “keep an eye on you” and gives you constant feedback (read: instructions and naggings). But it’s worth it in the end because the product is his happy smile.

(You later find out he only said it was terrible to make an excuse to spend more time with you, but in his Tsukishima version.)

Support: How supportive is he of your dreams? What do you do for him?

He would, of course, be 100% supportive of anything you’re thriving for. But he’s different to others in the sense that he’s more grounded and realistic, so that’s the type of advice he’ll give you.

If he sees you’re getting stressed or strained over a project or anything like that, he’ll ask you if it’s really worth it and propose the idea of just leaving it. He doesn’t like seeing you push yourself so far.

You come a lot to the museum because it has a café with an amazing hot chocolate. He comes in between his breaks and has a snack while you talk to him about the displays. He helps to set up a lot of it so you always say “It looked amazing!” and it cheers him up every time.

Talk: What does he like talking about?

Tsukishima is a man of few words, but he loves talking to you. He says it’s because you’re not annoyingly ignorant (*cough* Kagehina *cough*) and he can hold an intelligent conversation.

Talks range from what you did today to societal concerns to what you learnt today. He likes seeing you become passionate about the problems you have or calmly recount all the mishaps you went through that day. You always seem to have an action-packed life.

Umbrella: What’s his favourite weather/season?

Ones of those incredibly cloudy and grey days, possibly raining slightly. He likes studying to the pitter-patter of rain on the roof of the house.

He also likes it because it means he can share an umbrella with you on the way home. He purposely bought one with a large span so you can walk home together with no shoulders getting soaked.

Vaunt: Does he like showing you off?

Nope. He never feels the need to flaunt you off to others because he doesn't see the need for it. It’s not like showing you off to others means he cares more about you or anything like that.

He feels more comfortable knowing your little habits and lifestyle to himself, because it reminds him that he knows you more than anyone else.

World: Where does he take you for vacation?

Somewhere close by, a place where he knows the geography well and also knows you’re going to like. Tsukishima doesn’t like going to foriegn places because of language barriers and mishaps which might not end well.

In the first place, he doesn’t like moving all that much so his ideal vacation will be something like a rented cabin and not backpacking around. If you want to do something physical, he would research all about it and think of every possibility which might happen.

X-ray: What happens when you’re injured or sick?

Immediate response is a snarky remark on how you should have taken care of your body. The entire time he’s nursing you, it never stops. Sometimes you snap and tell him to get out, but he never does.

When he gets hurt, he won’t call for you, claiming that he’s fine and that it’s not life-threatening. Yamaguchi will probably text you about it along with “I didn’t say this to you! Keep it a secret!”

So you sneak into his house and make some warm porridge or chicken soup. He says he hates being coddled but in reality, he loves it.

Yearn: How much does he miss/pine for you when apart?

He does miss you, but not all that much. And won’t admit it either, he’s too much of a tsundere for that.

Tsukishima doesn’t understand why couples cry as they have to leave to another city or country when it’s only for a short amount of time. He’s going to come back soon and he knows that your love for him and his love for you won’t disappear in that short span of time.

ZZZ: Does he have sleeping habits?

Always has to put on some type of music when falling asleep. Of course, it’s usually quiet classical or lo-fi songs and even then, the volume is turned way down.

It basically serves as BGM while he mumbles to you about his teammates and museum works. And you reply with bits of your day as well.

For some reason, your voice works better as a lullaby than any music.

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima kei imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#tsukishima #tsukishima kei #fluff #alphabets #request #gender neutral reader

109 notes · View notes

lunariumarcs · 4 years ago

Text

The Shadow Prime thing.

[after his failure to keep Catra and Glimmer contained, Horde Prime captures another prisoner in the hopes that she might have some value to him]

Shadow Weaver tested the bounds of her magic as she waited to be retrieved from her cell. The shadows responded to her call, as they always had, but they did so without motivation. They would not be effective in a fight. She tried to search for any hint of darkness on the ship and found that she could sense a large mass of it at the center of the space craft. It pulsed with irrational need and the sins of a prideful man. Her cell was three levels up from the source but she could not recall following any stairs to get there. Perhaps the floor was uneven and progressed at a slight angle, like a giant, spiraling ramp. Or perhaps there were teleportation pads between floors and she just hadn’t seen one yet.

She inspected the room silently. The bed was docked on either side by two side tables. The one on the right held nothing. The one on the left contained a book. Horde Prime’s insignia had been pressed into the cover. Inside were writings of cultist rhetoric. After thumbing through the pages, she put it back. She never cared for anyone’s rules and she was not about to start.

She lay on the bed and did not move for hours. If there were cameras in her cell, the only thing Prime would observe of his prisoner would be her infinite reservoir of self control.

After several hours, the cell door slipped open and two clones stepped up to collect her. She did not move, even as they spoke.

“The Lord requests your presence, madam Weaver.” One said politely.

“If he wishes to see me, he can come up here and ask me himself.” Shadow Weaver answered to the ceiling.

“Is something troubling you, my lady of darkness?“ The clone asked after a moment of silence. His intonation had changed. He sounded authoritative and entitled. He held the voice of a king who had seldom lost to anyone. That power she felt from the center of the ship, pulsed now at the foot of her door. The magic of Obtainment swirled within her and she smiled.

“Lovely to see you, Horde Prime. I keep hearing about you.”

“Naturally. Why don’t you allow my clones to escort you and we can introduce ourselves properly?”

Shadow Weaver finally sat up to look at him, “I don’t make for very pleasant company.”

“I would not be asking if I didn’t wish it. You will come to see me if you value your freedom.”

The clone blinked and he returned back to himself - a lost man on the path to purity. Horde Prime’s signature had left and returned to where it came from. She slid off the bed and allowed the clones to lead her to their master.

She frowned when she realized they had moved a floor down. Prime’s signature indicated as much. But the floor didn’t descend at a gradient and she had no memory of a teleportation pad. She kept her mind sharp and leaned more focus into her environment and her actions. They kept walking. The corridors wound around each other like tree branches. Everything looked exactly the same. She wondered how the clones were able to transverse such confusing architecture.

It was too late when she noticed that they had dropped down another floor. She decided to puzzle over it later and calmed herself so she could properly greet and assess Etheria’s new overlord.

They came into a grand room, guarded by more clones. Prime lounged in his throne and managed to look both pleased and menacing. He sat taller than most of the objects in the room. His aura filled the grand room, from the floor to the top of the twenty foot ceiling. Shadow Weaver quelled the Obtainment magic. They would have to feed later. He stood to greet her, arms open wide.

“Welcome, my lady of darkness. It is so lovely to have you here.”

“Nobody has ever said that to my face without later redacting their sentiments.” Shadow Weaver commented offhandedly, “Please spare me the theatrics. I’m only here because you seem have business with me. What do you want?”

Prime scowled, “I can see how, as one of the most powerful magical entities on Etheria, you might feel entitled to direct the conversation. But you are standing in the hall of my light. There are no shadows here, no darkness that will bend to your magic. I will negotiate my terms with you when I feel it is necessary.”

“You sound just like Hordak.”

“Well, of course. I made him in my image. I might have to do the same to you, if you keep with your current attitude.”

“You can hardly blame me. I’m imprisoned here, on this ship, away from my home.”

“Home?” He laughed as he circled her, “You have no home. I know all about your history - your lovely Hordak showed me everything. You’ve been a traitor your whole life. What’s one more defection before everything Etheria once was is lost?” His large frame towered over hers in an effort to intimidate her. She kept her posture relaxed and met his gaze with indifference.

“You wish for me to join you?” She asked skeptically.

“There will be terms, of course, but in a simple word, yes.”

“And will we discuss these terms? Or do I have to endure another round of your plastic pleasantries?”

“We’ll save that conversation for dinner. For now, I want to give us a chance to get to know each other. Come, I wish to show you something.”

She had no choice but to follow him from the throne room, down the twisting halls and into another set of chambers. Otherworldly artifacts decorated the room. Paintings and weapons of distant civilizations mounted the walls, books and odd trinkets sat on shelves and several rugs covered the floor.

“This is my trove of rare and valuable artifacts. It’s a collection curated from all over the galaxy.” He said proudly.

Shadow Weaver couldn’t help but wonder at it all. Other creatures had created, sold, bought, possessed and held these items in their hands. So much history was stored in this room. She noticed an empty pedestal by the large window.

“It’s... impressive.” She noted without colour in her voice, “Why feel the need to show me? Are you not worried that I may break something?”

“A little.” His fourth eye shifted to the pedestal at the window, “But I feel it is my responsibility to show you the rich history of the worlds I’ve seen”

“And yet you eradicated each and every one of them.”

“Because their people refused to see that they had deteriorated from greatness. They denied my light and without much else to do to persuade them, they had to be purged. It was for the sake of their own good.” His teeth clenched to hold back a wave of anger and disappointment. He saw himself as a protector of the universe. The worlds he destroyed was out of his sense of responsibility to the galaxies - a responsibility to chase away the darkness. Perhaps that was his mission at one point. There were ulterior motives to his mission - motives to rule the galaxy and control everything, from the atomic cycles to the construction of civilizations.

“I kept their possessions to preserve their history, to keep their memories alive.”

“What do you wish to collect from Etheria - so you can commemorate its people... my people?” She asked.

“Originally, I wanted Queen Angella’s wings. She was such a beacon in the fight against my little brother. He had nightmares about her for several months following a bad encounter with her. And she was immortal - that is most definitely a rarity in this universe. You can imagine my disappointment when I found out that she was no longer part of this world.”

Shadow Weaver imagined Prime taking a large scalpel to the angel’s wings, pushing the blade through feathers, flesh and bone. Quickly, she pushed the thought from her mind. “She’s only stuck between worlds, why not build another portal and retrieve her?”

“My lady, do you know how resource intensive portal building is? Besides, I found something better.”

Shadow Weaver waited wordlessly for him to tell her, head tilted to the side and hands clasped in front of her. She had a feeling she knew what he might say.

“The Heart of Etheria. A weapon of magic, preserved inside your planet. I’ll condense it down to the size of a watermelon and put it right at the helm of my collection.” He indicated the pedestal, “I used to have something else to occupy that space. However, it has most unfortunately been disposed of.”

“What do you mean?” Why would Prime do away with one of his precious trophies?

“You ask so many questions, my lady.” he chuckled, “Let me have a turn.” He tapped his chin in mock thought, “Why do you insist on hiding your pretty face from me?”

She scoffed, “Pretty.”

“Horde Prime knows all.” He walked into her personal space and drew a curious finger along the cheek of her mask. “It’s quite hard to speak to you when this thing is in the way.

Shadow Weaver looked up into his face and made no move to stop him.

“You’re so still. Does it not bother you that I might rip your protection away?”

“There are worse things, Horde Prime.”

“Fascinating.” he whispered, “stronger hearts have quivered at the very mention of my name yet yours...” he slipped his fingers under the neck of her gown and shoved them against her jugular, “doesn’t so much as even move!”

“My heart has not moved for over thirty years. I doubt it will start now.”

He kept his hand resting against her neck and removed her mask with his other. She enjoyed the stunned look on his face as he looked into hers. His features remained smooth but she saw the way his extra eyes widened for a fraction of a second.

Prime hardly had his pupils attended to the one single thing, she’d found. Now, she watched them move in unison, across the valleys of scars the burrowed into her aged skin.

She took the mask from him and with her free hand, guided his to the side of her face.

“You are a man of exploration and observation, it seems. It is how you communicate” she said, “You see what is broken and your reflexes tell you to fix it.”

“Are you asking me to heal your scars?”

“Hardly. But healing is your first language. Your tongue speaks through carpentry just as your hands work to build. Observe me, Horde Prime. Communicate with me and perhaps you might land yourself a very good deal.”

He chuckled low in his chest and grinned wide, “How fortunate am I that you can translate so thoroughly.” He traced ever scar on her face until his fingers wove themselves into her thick hair.

“You’re so cold.” He murmured.

“Does it bother you?” She challenged.

“Not at all. It serves to make you more noteworthy.”

He moved his other hand up her neck and followed a trail of gnarled tissue to press the pad of his thumb to her lips. She stowed the mask in her pocket so she could hold his hips properly. Soothingly, she ran one hand up to the center of his back.

“You are sorely mistaken if you think I’m going to put your finger, unwashed and without my knowing where it’s been, in my mouth.” She glared lightly.

He laughed from the deepest bowels of his core. A very good deal, indeed.

#I kinda want to write more of this #like at first i just sort of wrote it bc its a neat crack ship #but now i kind of actually ship it #shadow weaver #horde prime #shadow prime #spop

83 notes · View notes

border-spam · 5 years ago

Text

Wolf in wolf’s clothing

Gift fic for the lovely @artisthicc-nikyri of her oc’s Ari and Jameson, and her Troy!

Make sure to check out her art blog for more of her amazing shit

Jameson had been right.

This was so much easier than working in the kitchens...

Ari snorted to herself smugly as she popped another piece of hard candy into her mouth, lazily eying the slow crawl of the progress bar on her monitor as the file continued to render.

This was a piece of cake, this was so chilled out in comparison.

She’d thought at first it would have been terrifying, that working in such close proximity with the God King would have been even worse than dealing with the head cooks, but man, she’d had nothing to worry about in retrospect. A whole month now since she’d joined the editing team, and she’d not seen Troy once.

The other editors in his media team had filled her in, and it seemed for all J insisted God King Calypso was a “Pretty normal person under all the bullshit”, he was an enigma to work for. Fair, but weird. Quiet, but frightening. If you handed in your projects on time and didn’t get in his way? The job was piss as long as you had the skills he wanted. Safe lodgings within the main COV compound, food and medical care, and a position in the God King’s own media team was something followers would tear each other’s faces off for, and did according to the footage she was currently working on.

If you didn’t pull your weight though?

Well.

They’d not gone into details, but made clear through hushed warnings that she really should make sure she didn’t fuck this up.

Bobbing her head in time to the music thrumming through her earphones, she slid further into the huge custom chair, pulling her knees up to her chest with a shiver in the cool dark of the editing room. It was always cold in here she’d found, aircon set to suck the heat out of the machines and consoles that lined the rows of editing desks in the dim glow of the sleep mode displays, while Calypso’s throne-like personal station flickered data across the wall of monitors it faced that she’d yet to actually see him use. Helios had been so pompous and insufferably showy when it came to displays of wealth, but even living on the station for years with J before they ended up on Pandora, she’d never had access to tech or setups like this before. “The God Twins provide” really did have credence when you worked directly under them. Everything from the top end rigs to the leather high-backed editing chairs stamped with Troy’s emblem felt like it cost more than she’d ever earn, a sad reality she considered while running her thumb along the bottom row of keys on her backlit keyboard.

Ariana Serino shone at her from the custom board’s base, pulsing red light against matte black just like everything else in the room. For someone who was literally never here, Troy clearly had a tight grip on the department’s aesthetic.

She had hated the kitchens, she really had.

The head cooks were egotistical shitheads with superiority complexes who like so many of the Twins’s followers, saw any step up in authority as somehow being closer to their Gods. They knew she was like a sister to Jameson, and they knew how close Jameson was to Father Troy. It had painted a target on her she’d rather have avoided, and they had never, once, gotten off her damn back.

ANYTHING they could berate her over had been used against her, anything to make them feel like they were better than her. Better than someone so close to the King’s Pastor.

J knew, he’d seen how tired she had been, how stressed. It had been him that had gotten her this sweet gig, and she’d made sure to work her ass off for the last month straight. No one seemed to have actually noticed, but then again, no one was screaming abuse at her either, so she must be doing a good enough job. Troy didn’t come across as the sort of boss to hold back in letting her know if she wasn’t.

Checking in on her next task with a quick click on the flashing mail icon on her screen, she sighed and rolled her stiff shoulders with a stretch, tapping the keybinds to begin the asset download as she scanned the mail contents. _ _

“Let’s Flay 22.12.NL, due scheduling & upload 48 hours fn.

Focus on clip 4, 7, & 11, Ty closeups, keyframes 4-gore use @ clip 1-2. Get that shit visceral.

GKT” _ _

She’d certainly not had any negative feedback from the God King at least, then again, she’d not had any words from him bar these shorthand communications, and they seemed identical to the ones he sent to the full editing group. She’d wondered more than once how much he actually knew about her based on what Jameson had told him in order to get her this position, or, if he actually even knew about her at all.

J loved to gloat to her about all the effort he’d had to labor over to get her in, all the late night convincing and grandiose bullshitting he’d done in her favor to the God King’s ear, wheedling her into the editing team like his own personal project, but honestly? She was pretty sure Troy didn’t even know her name, let alone much else. She was a symbol on his mailing list, a faceless employee to pump out fuel for the COV media machine at his behest, and being so unimportant had some sweet benefits.

Ones like the 3am flashing on the wall clock facing her across the room, neon numbers burning red through the inky darkness.

Mannn, she thought with a smirk as she checked the open messenger app on screen. She’d had such a good lay in today…

Not being important meant no one actually cared when she showed up for her shift. She’d realised last week after oversleeping and arriving hours late in a panic, then not having anyone so much as bat an eye. Shifts here didn’t seem to actually matter. They had assigned ones, but people just seemed to really come and go as they pleased. Long as they clocked in the required amount of hours and sent on their completed tasks, there apparently wasn’t any consequences, and that suited her perfectly.

She could sleep as late in the day as she wanted, drag her ass out of bed and to her desk, and work away till the early AM hours. A nice empty editing studio with no distractions, no colleagues to deal with, and no J pinging her 40 times an hour with silly chatter, she confirmed as she checked the empty notifications in the chat app. He must be asleep, it was literally the only time the guy shut up, not that she’d change that for the world. Jameson filled the sad silences of Ari’s life with infectious positivity. She owed him so much…

The sudden flash of fluorescent light as the room’s door swung open startled her out of her thoughts, and immediately into habits formed a decade ago on Eden-6. She froze, silent, heart slowing as her eyes narrowed and then shifted smoothly towards the danger on the other side of the room as she heard the door slam shut.

Padded, heavy footsteps marked someone’s approach along the side of the low walled editing desk rows, and she sunk lower into the darkness of her cubicle, flattening her silhouette like dad had taught her years ago as she slid the headphones down around her neck. Stay low. Stay quiet. Listen closely. Don’t move. It won’t see you. You won’t be eaten.

She felt her heart skip a beat as the shadow appeared before the predator, the dim lights of the editing room just enough to cast it on the floor as they approached, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she for a moment recognised the narrow height of the shape prowling towards her row. Jameson. Thank God, for a second she’d thought…

No, not Jameson. It was still coming, and the silhouette was only getting larger. Jameson wasn’t this tall. Jameson wasn’t this graceful. She’d convinced herself for a moment that she was safe, but she wasn’t.

Ariana felt her bones turn to ice as the harsh light of the data flickering across the throne’s monitors revealed the towering outline of God King Troy.

He shifted slowly, back turning towards her as he faced his desk, unaware of the woman watching him from under the gaps of her monitors.

He looked.. tired? Smaller, softer. Not exactly as terrifying as she had prepared herself for, not as imposing in a loose sweater and low set glasses as he was in raised collars and draped fur. He was still very clearly Father Troy, but like he’d shucked off a heavy costume after a long day. Neater, less makeup, hair looser and not as spiked. No chains or accessories hanging from his belt, just his slacks and a rolled up sweater sleeve his massive prosthetic was connecting to its socket through.

She trembled nervously as he stiffly lowered his weight into the hulking chair in front of her, settling the cup of coffee he’d been carrying down next to his flesh arm as he deftly hit keys with the cybernetic fingers of his right and began to pull up files across the monitors flashing to life in front of him.

He had no idea she was here Ari realised, beginning to calm as the scent of his coffee filed the room alongside the quick tapping of his mismatched fingers across keys. What was she meant to do…?

He clearly thought he was alone here. She’d never heard of the God King looking like this, the twins were always pristine in their curated appearances when around others. Grunge psycho-chic or draped in gold and jewels, but never average. The idea of Troy looking relatively normal like this? It felt like she shouldn’t be seeing it at all. It felt private. She pressed her palms harder against the flat of her desk and eyed the distance between the curve of his shoulders and the entry doorway she was considering bolting through.

“Shit” she hissed through gritted teeth. He’d catch her, he’d either see her from the corner of his eye or hear the automated door as it opened for her, she was running out of options. If he caught her trying to sneak out, he’d probably be even angrier, right? He’d prefer if she just broke the silence and apologised for interrupting him, she decided as she swallowed the nervous lump insisting on tightening her throat. J said he liked it when people were honest. He liked it when people didn’t bullshit him, and J knew Troy. She should just.. greet him. Dad used to say it was better to face a Tyrant head first than die with its teeth in your back when you tried to run, right?

She slowly straightened, lifting her chest off the desk and leaning silently back into her seat as she carefully tucked her hair behind her ears and flattened out her tank. Wide eyes not leaving the back of his head as he hunched over his station while she began to pump herself up.

You got this Ariana. You’ve faced bigger fangs than this asshole has, he’s just a man. He can be reasonable, just say something.

She breathed out slowly, steadying her lungs before breaking the silence.

“Forgive me your majesty, I didn’t know y-”

She startled out of her sentence as he whipped round to face her, unprepared for the violent speed of his reaction as he rose out his seat.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE??” Troy bellowed over her quiet greeting, and her brain stalled in trying to respond as he stormed towards her desk.

“I.. I.. I’m just.. working some overtime, Father Troy, catching up on som - Ah!”

She flinched as he yanked the mouse out of her hand, ice cold metal digits tearing it out of her fingers and onto the desk in front of him, expertly pulling up her activity monitor script over the chat window where Jameson’s afk profile pic still flashed.

“Overtime? Fucking bullshit.” he growled, flashing gold capped teeth as he sneered inches from her face. “LOOK.”

She cleared her throat quietly, cowering under his looming torso as she snapped her eyes to the onscreen log he was referring to.

“You clocked in 3 hours ago.. Bunny..” -Her chat nick? He’d seen oh god this was so embarrassing oh g- “Overtime means working after your shift, not starting it in the middle of the fucking night. Did you just lie to me?!”

Wow. She was dead. This was it. It was the end. Why’d she ever listened to J, he was an idiot. She should have just run. She was going to be ripped apart by this lanky asshole and it was all J’s fault for insisting he was nice underneath. She was going to haunt that green bitch for the rest of his life. Nothing left to lose now, she accepted with finality. Just be honest. He was either going to break her neck or not.

“I’m.. sorry.” She whispered, then continued as she realised with rising surprise that he was waiting to hear the rest.

“I was very late today and I just wanted.. to make sure I finished these edits for you for tomorrow. I don’t have the right tech in my quarters, it felt like the right thing to do was just stay here and get it done..”

Ari waited as the silence continued, swallowing tightly as she raised her eyes slowly, hoping for a positive reaction. He was quiet, still hovering above her and leaning heavy on the massive prosthetic still resting on her desk as he massaged the bridge of his nose with his human fingers, but his face had relaxed, his mouth no longer a tight grimace. He just looked.. sad, and tired, and like he was done with this.

“You’re Ariana, right?” he muttered through an exhale as he pressed his fingers tighter into the corners of his closed eyes under the glasses.

“Yes Tr-SIR! Sir. Ariana Ser-”

“I don’t care.”

She jumped slightly as the metal limb to her right lifted off the desk as he stood.

“I don’t care when you get the work done. It’s fine.” he sighed, voice rough and quiet.

“I don’t shift people late because I don’t want people here late, but you can stay till you get your shit done.”

His hand dropped to his side as he looked down at her, meeting her worried gaze over the frames of his glasses.

“..but don’t ever lie to me again. You’re here because Jameson recommended you, and as much as a pain in the ass as he can be, I trust Jameson. This is your one strike.”

She slowly felt the tension relax out of her joints as he turned and began to walk back towards his station, flopping down into the massive chair with a sigh as he raised his eyes to hers again.

“If he hadn’t, and you were anyone else and lied to me like that? …You’d be dead where you sat.”

Ari twisted her fingers between her hands nervously as he swiveled towards his monitors and began to type once more. How the hell had she survived that. How had that worked out when she’d been so close to getting the axe, figuratively and literally. She checked the chat app once more while beginning to settle back into a more comfortable position. Jameson was still offline, he was probably sleeping soundly through the most stress she’d had in years, typical.

Opening the editing software again, she began to work on the next clip in her log, painfully aware of typing as quietly as possible so as not to interrupt her new colleague.

As the minutes ticked by, she found herself relaxing slowly. The atmosphere stayed desperately tense, and the God King’s heavy silence punctuated each harsh snap of a key or frustrated sigh he made all the more as they continued to work together. Troy was noticeably on edge, fidgeting in the corner of her vision every now and then, tugging at the rolled shoulder of his sweater or trying to sweep his hair forward as if his appearance was upsetting him, making him feel awkward in some way.

He was angry with himself, more than anything. This was Jameson’s friend. This was his only friend’s closest companion, the person he described as a sister, and this was going to be her first experience of him?

He hadn’t meant to snap earlier. She’d just caught him so unprepared. No one was meant to be here tonight, he should have been able to get these final shots compiled and queued for upload in peace. Instead, he was sitting in the same room as someone he’d probably just terrified, trying to work while hyper aware he was out of character, and he hated being out of character around others. He didn’t even have his fucking hair done, he looked like a tool. This was not the kind of cringe he enjoyed, and he had no experience in how to deal with this situation.

Should he say something? He wasn’t sure, she probably didn’t want to talk to him anyway he worried, glancing over his shoulder at the back of her monitors, just able to make out her hands working away under them. Jameson would tell him to say something, but he didn’t know what that something should even be. What if he just made this worse. This wheedling grip of anxiety in his gut was one of Troy’s least favorite feelings. It was the kind of stupid, unmanageable worry that left your heart beating just a little too fast, your palm sweaty, it was horrible. He liked to be in control, always. Of everything, but especially himself. Feeling like a nervous child in his own damn editing office, where he had come to clear his mind tonight so he could possibly get some sleep later? It was bullshit, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and tapped his fingers against the empty coffee cup to his left, trying to focus on what he should say rather than how awkward the atmosphere was. “You.. uh..”

He winced to himself at how his voice caught in his throat. Great start, God King. Fuck. Get your act on!

“-Ahem- You know Jameson a long time, right?” He prompted, noting the sounds of her typing had stopped in response, and the slight squeak of leather behind him meant she had shifted in her seat.

“Yes sir...” Ari responded meekly, barely audible over the wall of monitors between them.

“Troy. Troy is ok right now. It’s not like there’s anyone else around, huh?” He called back, feeling his confident act begin to fall back into place as his practiced nonchalant speaking tone shifted over the tightness in his voice from a moment ago.

He felt the pull of a smirk at the corners of his mouth as he heard a soft breath of a laugh from Ariana, and the tension beginning to disperse from the room.

“Yes, si-Troy! Sorry. Troy.” She called back, louder this time, and he leaned back a little more comfortably into his seat. “Yeah we’ve known each other a long time!” She continued, voice tilting upwards in obvious excitement.

“We met on Helios, when we were kids.” Ari offered, noting the slight turn of the Holy Twin’s head towards her as he listened.

“Well I was a kid, he was a bit older, but we were in the same class in what passed for a school on that place. He didn’t have many friends his age I guess, and I had no friends at all, so he kind of just attached to me! You know how some people are just like that?” A quiet snort of agreement from the desk in front of her making clear that yes, Troy knew exactly what ‘kind of people’ Jameson was exactly like.

“We just adopted each other then.” She followed. “We’ve kind of always been together since. He talked too much, he said, and that I talked too little! He’s been trying to make me get better at that.. actually.. uhh..” she trailed off, feeling a rush of returned awkwardness in the fact she was currently monologuing at a deity who could rip in her two if she irritated him.

He shifted further in his seat, turning far enough for her to catch the reflection of his monitors in his eye as he glanced back at her. “No, go on.” he encouraged reassuringly. “Kind of interesting to hear someone else’s opinion of the caustic tool for once.”

She caught the wolfish smirk before he turned back towards his screens, and felt a genuine smile of her own blossom in the relief that she wasn’t talking too much, he actually seemed to be enjoying this in some way. “Sure. Umm... Oh! We left Helios before everything went crazy up there, not long after all that shit happened with Jack. I think the COV was just starting up around then..” she mused for a moment, then let out a short laugh. “He’s my brother now I guess, and like you said before, he’s a pain in the ass, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything!” Ari chuckled, before excitedly continuing. “Oh man! Sorry, I-I mean, I don’t need to explain that, do I! I guess you of all people know all about that kind of feeling for someone like a sibling, right?”

Her smile faded as the seconds ticked by to no response, just the quick tapping of his fingers across the keys as he continued to work. That cold tension began to creep back into the air, and for a moment, she wondered if she really should have shut up earlier. “Where were you before Helios?” he prompted, voice controlled and tone unsettlingly blasé as he deftly opened up 3 more windows and dragged clips into them, his head subtly moving with his eyes as they shifted from file to file. “You clearly weren’t born there.”

The misdirection didn’t escape her, but she knew he was purposefully attempting to put her at ease by continuing the conversation, and it wasn’t a gesture she’d reject. “No, no I was born on Eden-6. I was there my whole childhood with my family before we all moved to-”

His raucous barking laugh interrupted her mid sentence, and she blanched, unsure of what she had said that was funny.

“Eden-6! Mannnnn!” he balked, hiccuping laughter rolling into a growling chuckle. “Dude, sucks for you, that place is a fuckin’ swampass shithole.”

He broke into laughter again, tilting his head back and running his hand back through the thick hair that she realised had been falling in front of his face this whole time, and Ariana saw red.

What the hell was funny about Eden-6? They were living on fucking Pandora by choice, and he calls Eden-6 a shithole? Seriously? She squeezed her fists shut and barely registered the bite of her long nails as they dug into her palms, completely aware she was losing the battle to keep quiet and not say something she’d regret.

“Wow. Funny. So what kind of up-its-own-ass wealthy bullshit homeworld did you come from?” Ari snapped back, before almost instantly reeling from how stupid an idea that outburst was.

She recoiled back into her chair as fear crept up her spine again, and felt her stomach drop even further as he slowly stood out of his seat, turning towards her.

His icy eyes met hers as he crossed the distance between their desks, half hooded and lazy above the rims of his glasses, maintaining their contact as he stopped in front of her monitors and calmly reached his prosthetic over before gently plucking the empty soda can off the desk beside her. She felt a wave of confusion as he turned with one last glare in her direction, before he began to walk towards the wall near the entrance door. She finally noticed he was carrying his coffee cup in the other hand.

Oh.

He wasn’t going to kill her. He was just.. getting more drinks. For both of them it seemed, considering she could hear the hiss of the team’s coffee machine in the dark, and the quiet open and close of their small stocked fridge. Ari stared down at her hands in her lap, cringing with each step as she heard him approach, desperately embarrassed by her overreaction.

She winced as she heard the clunk of the soft drink can he’d placed on the desk inches in front of her, and muttered a breathy “Sorry.”, still avoiding looking at him directly. The tap of his prosthetic’s finger on the rim of the can was a clear signal he wanted her to however, and she reluctantly raised her eyes to meet his, painfully aware of her flushed cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it.” he chuckled, still looming over the rise of her monitors like a lanky predator eying up its next meal. “J said you were good at speaking your mind. I kinda appreciate that with the people I have here. Means the feedback I get is uhh” he raised his eyebrows as he thoughtfully looked to the side “.. actually useful at times.”

“Besides, you’re wrong anyway, little miss thinks-she-knows-shit.” he scoffed, smiling into his coffee as he sipped from the refilled cup, then letting his gaze shift afterwards from the hot drink back to the extremely confused Ariana. “I’m from a shithole too.”

It took her a second for what he’d said to really register, and then Ari laughed. Really laughed, deep from her guts in snorting, gasping bursts. A moment later, he joined her, and for the first time that night it was truly genuine from him, even if it was quiet and tired, and still a little awkward.

The pause after was comfortable, and he stalked back to his chair, slumping into it as he nursed his drink. She eyed the can he’d brought her, the exact same energy drink as what had been empty on her desk, and the realisation he had been paying such attention felt oddly flattering to Ariana, like warmth deep in her belly. She reached out and touched the can, only the sounds of Troy sipping his drink and the fans and quiet clicks of the machine components around them breaking the silence. It wasn’t something she was used to. She was used to not mattering enough to notice things about, and wasn’t sure how to really handle this feeling. It felt welcoming, but frightening. Like being on the precipice of something. Like change.

“By the way” he smoothly interrupted her thoughts as he called over to her “I’m here most nights, around this time. If, you know, you do prefer working late, just keep in mind I’ll be around too. Long as it doesn’t affect your work, I’m ok to share the editing room with you like this.”

Ari was unsure why exactly, but that did something to her. It was innocent, it was an olive branch of friendship, she knew, but the reaction was visceral. Her instincts kicked in once more and a thrill of cold ran up her spine, prompting her to stand quickly and finally attempt to take her leave, approaching his desk nervously to bid her farewell.

“Troy, um, God King, thank you! For.. the chat, it was .. fun?” she stammered while eying the exit door as he lazily watched from over his raised cup.

“I’ve finished the tasks you queued for me so I’m going to, um, go to sleep hahhh.” she laughed unconvincingly, wringing her hands together as she awkwardly sidestepped towards the door, slowly turning away from him as she edged closer to her escape.

“Mmhm.. sure. Night.” he mused, cocking an eyebrow as he considered her with deep set interest, before continuing just as she reached towards the door controls.

"Oh, and Bunny?“ Troy drawled, watching as she stopped in her tracks and slowly turned to face the editing chair he was draped over.

"Keep all of this - " He gestured lazily between them, and raised a finger to tap the frame of his glasses as he locked eyes with her over the lenses. "- to yourself."

"Being cute doesn't stop wolves from eating little rabbits alive... Understand?“

There was a pregnant silence as Ari parsed the threat, the roaring of her own pulse overpowering the background hum of the cooling fans thrumming in the darkness of the almost entirely empty editing room she was so close to escaping from.

"Yes... sir” she swallowed shakily “ I understand."

She winced at the streak of blue light that pierced the darkness when Troy's metallic canines caught the monitor's glow as his mouth split into a vicious grin.

"Good girl. Sleep tight then. Night night." the God King sneered through those sharp, sharp teeth...

---

But Ariana didn’t sleep tight, and she spent all night trying to work out exactly why.

************

If you enjoyed this I’d love to hear comments or feedback, and you can check the rest of my twins writing:

Here

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #bl3 #troy calypso #calypso twins #ariana-serino #jameson-black #my hcs #my writing

56 notes · View notes

sonofsallyjackson · 4 years ago

Text

A World Not Quite Her Own (pt 1/3) - The Estelle Fic

So here it is, my first foray into the Percy Jackson fandom despite being obsessed with the books when I was in elementary/middle school. This started as my take on Estelle’s childhood, but morphed into something more with a Percabeth wedding scene in chapter 2. AO3 Link Here.

Estelle Blofis had never lived in a world without monsters. Many people in this world would have been driven mad by this knowledge. But for Estelle, it was a simple fact of the universe like humans need air to survive, or blue chocolate chip cookies are the best dessert. Maybe knowing about monsters should have made her scared, but all it did was show her the heroes who would always come in and save the day.

Many of those heroes made the best babysitters.

Sally always let out a sigh of relief when Grover was in town. The Lord of the Wild didn’t even grumble good-naturedly as he took on his excitable charge for the day. Grover didn’t need the promise of Sally’s seven-layer bean dip or the collection of recycling curated for maximum crunch to make it through their outings. He had always wanted to teach humans to appreciate the wild, treasure it, and protect it. Grover might not be able to teach all humans, but he certainly could teach Estelle. They sat in an isolated corner of Central Park together, occasionally bothered by druids, but mostly it was just the two of them. They would sit directly in the grass, Estelle’s orange tutu and rainboots regardless of the weather stretched out next to hairy legs that Grover mostly didn’t bother to cover anymore. While Estelle likely fidgeted just as much as she listened (spinning breaks were deemed a necessity after a single outing), she did listen to him. Grover was the best at answering questions and like any small child, Estelle had a lot of questions. So as she grew, Estelle sang hi to the individual trees on walks with her parents and proclaimed solemnly in pre-school that “Pan was dead” (a reference that thankfully her teacher didn’t understand but had resulted in a headache-inducing conversation for Paul).

In comparison, babysitting with Rachel was essentially one long arts and crafts session. Finger paintings completely covered the fridge by the time Estelle was three. They’d repainted the mural on Estelle’s bedroom wall about four times by the time she was ten, with each rendition more fantastical than the last. Occasionally Sally regretted the afternoons spent writing with Rachel over once she discovered the paint covered mess that once had been her daughter, but overall with the sound of laughter echoing through the house (and only one minor prophecy), she supposed things could be a lot worse.

On days where snow piled up outside their window, but Estelle adamantly refused to wear anything but a swimsuit and a feather boa, Paul frantically phoned Piper. She was at the top of a very short list of people who could make Estelle dress appropriately for the weather. No one was sure if it was a form of diluted charmspeak or just Piper’s knack for finding outfits that technically could be worn in public but still fit the (unfashionable) vibe Estelle was going for.

Tyson was never allowed to babysit Estelle by himself, but he made up for his clumsiness and general lack of knowledge of human safety measures with an excess of enthusiasm. He took to having a baby sister so well that no one really bothered to explain that technically the two of them weren’t related. Still Tyson’s one eye seemed just as normal to Estelle as his hugs or extremely calloused hands.

Nico really wasn’t her babysitter. He would stop by the apartment looking for Percy or Sally, but would end up staying because Estelle had him wrapped around her finger. The first time they’d met Nico had come over with bad news regarding Apollo’s quest. Estelle couldn’t actually remember what had happened since she was so young, but Sally liked telling the story, complete with pictures, so Estelle knew it by heart anyway. Percy hadn’t been home yet and since he was with mortals working on a group project, Iris messages would have been a no-go even if the cosmos weren’t trying to prevent demi-god communication. So Nico had sat on the couch in the living room occasionally pestered by Sally’s “Are you sure I can’t get you anything to eat?” and “You look tired, sweetheart. You have time for a nap if you want one.”

In the end, Nico hadn’t gotten that nap because he’d been greeted by tiny hands pulling themselves upright on the couch cushion next to him. Estelle’s face had been alight with mischief that Nico would have previously sworn was only possible from a child of Hermes. Her black curls swung wildly around her as she wiggled her way onto the couch and into Nico’s lap. Estelle made herself comfortable while Nico looked ready to throw up. At fourteen, he’d fought in two different wars, but one crawling 10-month-old seemed to be enough to break him. As Estelle grew older, her little chants of “Nico! Nico! Nico!” had so much power over the boy who wanted a family more than anything else in the world.

Annabeth was one of her most frequent babysitters. She practically lived at their apartment when she wasn’t at school, or helping her cousins or the camp. She did keep Percy from giving into Estelle’s every whim which wasn’t ideal, but Estelle could deal with eating a full plate of vegetables if it meant hanging out with Annabeth. Unfortunately, Annabeth did not share Estelle’s undying love for all things Little Mermaid and often muttered “Seaweed Brain, I don’t know how but this is your fault. If I have to hear Under the Sea one more time, I’ll-“ under her breath whenever just watching Disney movies was suggested. So spending time with Annabeth often meant playing with Legos, creating a disjointed collection of buildings. Mini replicas of New York landmarks would be dwarfed by uneven towers because Estelle cared more about height than stability, aesthetics or really any other architectural principle. When Annabeth entered school, she was less inclined to spend any bit of free time still thinking about architecture. So she gave Estelle a little potholder loom and taught her the basics of weaving. Sally had ended up with more neon-colored monstrosities than she knew what to do with, but the girls could spend hours in relative quiet, so it seemed a small price to pay.

And then there was Percy, the biggest hero in Estelle’s eyes. Her love wasn’t like the hero-worship of new demigods, who idolized him for defeating the Titans, surviving Tartarus, or going on countless quests. Estelle believed more than anything else in the world that her brother would be there to catch her whenever she fell and there was no monster he couldn’t beat.

Even before she could walk, Estelle had seen her brother’s powers. Some things were easy to miss, like the way Percy could wash the dishes without getting wet at all, but others stood out to her. The waves at Montauk had calmed so he could teach her how to swim but were quick to come back to life if anyone stared too openly at Annabeth or his mom. While Annabeth built elaborate sandcastles, Percy added fantastical moats and laughed as Estelle roared like a minotaur to tear it down. He could hold his breath forever, which seemed awfully unfair the first time Estelle had tried to swim underwater and ended up with a mouthful of saltwater. Percy was always willing to translate for the fish at the aquarium, although Estelle was pretty sure he did the funny voices for her benefit. When Percy had landed Blackjack on their apartment’s roof after being called back to camp for an emergency, he had translated for his old friend too. Estelle loved those translations the most, even if they weren’t entirely accurate.

“Seriously, Blackjack, can you cool the language around my little sister?”

By age five, her older brother had bought wooden swords for the two of them to practice in the living room. Percy kept the moves simple, demonstrating before lightly wrapping his fingers around her tiny wrists and guiding her through the movements. Estelle would copy them intently with her nose scrunched up and her tongue stuck slightly to the side in concentration. They focused primarily on defensive strategies, but still had practice fights where Percy pretended to die dramatically.

“I don’t think this is a good idea Percy,” Sally had said after they broke their second lamp.

“Mom she can see them. And as long as I’m around Stella will always be a target.”

There was an unspoken promise in his words. I’m always going to be here Mom. I’m still alive, but I can’t lose anyone else, especially not my baby sister.

Estelle hugged her mother’s leg tightly, looking up with pleading eyes. “Please Mom I’ll be careful.”

Eventually, Paul signed Estelle up for fencing lessons because there had to be a better way to teach her to fight that didn’t involve the two of them wrecking the living room every time Percy visited. And if the way, allowed Paul to share his old fencing passion with his daughter, all the better. The living room still ended up with the furniture pushed to the side on a regular basis though because Estelle needed to demonstrate everything she’d learned for her big brother.

When Tyson had come to her sixth birthday party, his present had been a small bronze sword that transformed into a charm bracelet so Estelle could always be prepared. He’d look so proud and Estelle kept touching it reverently, but Sally had not been amused. She had wanted her daughter to grow up safe from this madness, even if she knew that wasn’t entirely a possibility. It was bad enough to have one child constantly in mortal peril and disappearing on dangerous quests.

“It can’t even hurt her; it’s celestial bronze. The first time I met Rachel I ran her through with Riptide and she’s still fine.”

Rachel flicked her red curls over her shoulder. “Worried for your sanity, but physically fine.”

Neither of them was as reassuring as they thought, but Estelle did get to keep the sword for emergency use only. This was after all a world full of monsters as well as heroes.

#estelle blofis #percy jackson #PJO #pjo/hoo #hoo #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo fandom #riordenverse #pjo fic #my fic

27 notes · View notes

curetapwater · 4 years ago

Text

Man, the pony toy collector fandom is pretty chill compared to the brony fandom, as someone who's now dabbled in both. No hate to bronies of course, I experienced that shit in my tween years and I genuinely believe it fundamentally affected my formation into my current form so I still hold an appreciation for them in that regard. But idk there's something really calming about just talking about and sharing pics of toys instead of all the discourse that bronies got up to back in the day. But the brony fandom did produce some badass music and art. Rainbow Factory and Discord still get me TURNT, especially the Living Tombstone remixes of both. If you like The Living Tombstone's fnaf songs or his Spooky Scary Skeletons remix then I hope you respect his iconic brony roots. But I think most of the assholes have funneled out of the brony community at this point, all I currently see are chill people enjoying the pony cartoon. Although that may also be me better learning how to curate my online experience.

1 note · View note

dailyaudiobible · 4 years ago

Text

01/20/2021 DAB Transcript

Genesis 41:17-42:17, Matthew 13:24-46, Psalms 18:1-15, Proverbs 4:1-6

Today is the 20th day of January. Wow, it's the 20th day of January already? Wow! So, we are two thirds of the way through the first month of the year. It shouldn't be a surprise. We've done it day by day step-by-step, but sometimes you’re just like wow! It was like Christmas 10 minutes ago but here we are it’s the 20th of January and we are well on our way in establishing this rhythm of the year on this journey through the Scriptures. So, let's dive into the book of Genesis, which is where we are in the Old Testament. We are with Joseph. And we have seen Joseph, a young, good-looking, well-built man trafficked into slavery by his own family, accused of inappropriate activity toward his master's wife, thrown into a dungeon and forgotten. And now he's been summoned before Pharaoh because Pharaoh has had a dream. So, Joseph finally gets a bath and finally gets to shave and he's before Pharaoh. Pharaoh's telling him, “I hear…I hear you can interpret dreams.” And Joseph's like, “I can't really do anything, but God can give you what you want.” And that is where we find ourselves. We’re reading from the New International Version this week. Today Genesis chapter 41 verse 17 through 42 verse 17.

Commentary:

Okay. So, on any given day there’s any number of things that we could be talking about, but let's just try to recount what we read today, beginning with Proverbs and the understanding that the Proverbs are continuing to call out of the pages of the Bible that wisdom is the thing to go for. Like wisdom is the one thing to gain or achieve. Get it above all other things. And if you have wisdom and are wise any of the other things that you're after can be achieved and can be attained through wisdom or the wisdom will show us that that thing isn't even worth spending our energy in trying to attain. We will know. But if all we do is live reactionary lives from thing to thing to thing just trying to achieve the next commercial thing that's being sold to us and we ignore wisdom in our lives then…well…then it leads to destruction of our lives, the dismantling systematically piece by piece of…of our existence until we are shaking our heads going, “what’s happened? What's going on here?” And we realize then if we’re honest and looking for the truth that we have followed the path of foolishness and it has led right where the path of foolishness goes. Even if that's who we are, like even if that's where you are right now, at the bottom, just one rung above the bottom because you started to try to dig out January 1st and you’re one wrung up the ladder now, this is still true. We can start to seek wisdom at any point no matter what is going on. And if we will follow the path of wisdom and continue to live in wisdom day after day step-by-step, we will…we will navigate out of this. It is possible. We have to do what we know is right, slow down enough to look for the story behind the story, right? The true story, the one Jesus is talking about. And that's as good as a…well…let’s just work backwards.

Let’s go to Matthew where Jesus tells a number of parables, a number of wisdom teaching parables. Because Jesus was often known as a wisdom teacher, right? The same wisdom we’re talking about in Proverbs. Jesus is teaching wisdom. And what He's doing in particular today is giving us a way to understand how the kingdom of heaven that we have always thought was something that was yet to come, how that we realize that it is already here and that is already happening, and it is preserving everything and we can participate in it, but we need eyes to see and ears to hear. We need to be able to see what is true instead of what is curated. We need to live what is true instead of falsely curating and presenting who we are. And then we begin to see. And, so, Jesus gives one particular parable. A man sowed good seed in his field, right? So, this is a plowed field ready for planting and then it's planted ready to go. An enemy comes in and sows weeds. Can't figure this out until everything starts to sprout and then it's seen that there's weeds everywhere among the wheat. This is a wisdom parable from Jesus to show us the state of things as they are. This is the world we live in. The weeds and the wheat are being allowed to grow together. This is God's mercy, but in the end, the weeds will be pulled up at harvest. And, so, the obvious question coming from this parable is, “are you wheat or are you weeds?” Some important things for us to consider today.

And then we move back to Genesis we continue the story of Joseph and there’s not…I mean…we just read the story. Joseph's brothers have come, and they have bowed down to him fulfilling this dream that he had when he was 17. Let's remember that Joseph wasn't in Pharaoh's service according to the Bible until he was 30, 13 years after he had been trafficked into slavery by his brothers. It took 13 years before he came into Pharaoh's service. Another seven years went by in prosperity, and now we are in the season of famine, probably a couple years into famine. Joseph lost his childhood and spent his young adulthood in a dungeon. Like we said yesterday, he had every right to his bitterness and his depression and all of the things that would bring him down as if he had been cursed personally by God. It's just that, that's not in this story. And that's the point. That's not in this story. Joseph…Joseph knew what had happened to him was unjust. He didn't blame God for it though. He held onto God as the only hope of ever getting anywhere else. That is a sharp contrast to the way that we normally behave because the second we face something that we have to endure is usually the time that we just throw up our hands and go, “God's not there for me.” And all of the things that we say, maybe we could take a cue from Joseph or maybe we could take a cue from wisdom or maybe we could take a cue from Jesus teaching wisdom. God loves us. That's not what's going on here. And somehow Joseph was able to hold on, hold on and believe that God was his hope and that one day…one day this story would right itself. Now Joseph's brothers are before him and he's making accusations that they’re spies, and they are incarcerated. So, what's gonna happen here? Is Joseph gonna get his revenge? Because he's got them in his power now and they don't know who he is. What’s gonna happen? That is a story to continue tomorrow.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for the opportunity to come into Your presence and to come into each other's presence and to just come around what we call the Global Campfire, this oasis, this calm serene place where we can focus our attention on what is really going to matter, that those things can get within us and change our perspective about all the things that we have to do. And, so, we thank You for encouraging us. Again, wisdom above all else, wisdom. Because wisdom will give us eyes to see and ears to hear. Come Holy Spirit we pray. Lead us into all truth as You promised. We ask this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com, that’s home base, that's the website, it is definitely where you dive in, definitely where you find out what’s going on around here. So, be familiar and stay tuned and stay connected.

Everything that you find at dailyaudiobible.com you can also access pretty much from within the Daily Audio Bible app. There is a Drawer icon in the upper left-hand corner that gives you a bunch of these choices. So, check that out. Be familiar with the Community section. This is where the Prayer Wall lives. And the Prayer Wall is…is just a very important component. It's…it's been with us 24 hours a day seven days a week for almost as long as the Daily Audio Bible. It's always been this place to go. And, so, it's not just you got a prayer and so you want to post it, or you just want to pray for people. There is a history here. Tens and tens of thousands of our brothers and sisters over the years, have come to this virtual prayer wall to offer up prayer, to hear what needs to be prayed for in people's lives, to offer our own prayer requests because of what's going on in our lives. It's something that's been going on for a very very long time. And, so, it's a sacred place around here, that Prayer Wall. So, be familiar with it. I can't even count really the…the things that God has done through that Prayer Wall. The things that I've heard over the years, spectacular things. And it's…it's even deeper than that, because sometimes you know, we want to offer a prayer and we want God to answer it the next morning and it's all better but sometimes it doesn't work that way. And sometimes we find that we’re…we’re kinda working through some difficulties, some…a difficult patch, And that's hard, it's painful. And, so, it kind of begins to isolate us. When we’re facing something difficult, whether it's physical or whether it’s emotional, whatever. When we begin to focus on the pain then we begin to take steps toward isolation and then we get isolated and then it’s just even that much worse because it's like not only am I going through this, nobody cares even though we've withdrawn because of pain. But praying for people through it all, despite it all while we’re going through things. It's…it's remarkable what that does. Because it…it turns our focus off of our pain and off of our suffering and how nobody cares and it focuses our attention on other people who are going through similar things and it focuses our affections on God who is the only hope. So, if you haven’t been to the Prayer Wall, be familiar, be a regular. It's…it's surprising how profound it is to pray for one another. So, check that out. It’s in the Community section.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There’s a link on the homepage and I thank you. We wouldn't be here if we weren’t in this together. And that's pretty much across the board. That's how it's spelt built. We’re in community and we do this together. And it doesn't work if we don't show up. If we’re for not here it doesn't work. But it works when we do. So, if you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible there's a link on the homepage. If you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner, or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement you can press the Hotline button that's in the app, little red button at the top that looks like a red hotline button, press that no matter where you are in the world and you can share or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello Daily Audio Bible family my name is Sarah, and I am from London England. I've been listening to Daily Audio Bible since 2017 and it has been a blessing, but I haven't always followed it through. It's been on and off. And this year I have decided that I will definitely want to seek God more and just to be consistent and, you know, follow the Bible through and really getting to know God on a deeper level. I was raised in a Christian household and I…my relationship with God hasn't always been strong. It's always been quite lukewarm. And back in 2009 I…I heard from God during my quiet time and the word that He revealed to me was consecrate. And back then I had never heard of the word and I even had to go into a dictionary to find out what the word was. So, after I found out what the word was consecration, you know, I really wanted to get close to God but there's load…loads and loads of distractions in my life and I haven't really had the opportunity to really seek God wholeheartedly. And since then, I have been through a lot of challenges that I look back and think that maybe I should have, you know, consecrated then I would have never…I would have never have gone through what I've gone through. So, I want to just ask for prayer. I want to just ask for prayer for God, you know, for God to…to draw closer to God. And also to…just to…you know…for all the distractions to be taken away because every time that I want to draw close to God distractions always come in and I never seem to fulfill that. So, I just wanted to ask for prayer for that. God bless you all thank you. Bye now.

Good morning DABbers this is Shaw from Oaktown Orlando FL. I usually don't call in, but I was inspired by Tonja with a J from South Florida that you finished the Bible last year. You know, I've been listening to DAB for a few years now and I haven't gotten through a whole year. You know, I got through most of it and missed some days, but you've really inspired me to focus and…and make it through. You know, there's other areas of life that I've really focused in and I've been successful. And I’m like, “why not this one?” So, I appreciate your excitement, I appreciate the energy, and I'm going to finish the Bible this year. I'm making that, you know, my…my goal. So, right now I'm on day 10 but I'm catching up. This morning I'm taking some time to catch up and I just really appreciate your inspiration. Brian, Jill, you guys are amazing. Appreciate everything that you do. You know, it’s so good to be able to…I do this in the morning…to just listen and get the goodness of the Spirit and just connect with the Lord in the morning just to get your day started off right. So, again I appreciate everything that each and every one of you do. You know, I listen to all these recordings and I'm just so inspired by, you know, the movement that everybody has, the changes in the life and everybody just praying for each other. So, I'm praying for each and every one of you. Know that. I love you. God bless. And we’ll talk to you soon. Signing out. Shaw from Oaktown Orlando Florida.

We are all reflections no matter what you say or do and most of the times we tend to reflect those things in our hearts that we believe to be true even though the scriptures warn us that the heart is deceitfully wicked and very easily misled the scriptures also advise us to pay very close attention to those things upon which our heart is being fed because out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks and our words become the reflections of those things our heart seeks how much influence does social media exert on the things that you do and say how much time do you spend on the Internet in the course of a normal day how much time do you spend reading God's word how much time do you actually spend each day in prayer our actions are the outer manifestations of whatever is internally there are you reflecting God when you open your mouth to speak or are your actions more self-serving reflecting passions and desires that run deep because it's nice to receive love and praise from the world and our peers but that's too fades just like the passing of years and only that that you do for Christ has the power to last social morays and fads all eventually pass proverbs says that gossip tastes sweet when you first take it in but it turns into a poison once it gets deep down within that's why it's so important to feed daily on God's word and prayer and not be so quick to ingest and repeat those things from the Internet that people are so eager to share pray for God's Holy Spirit to lead you to all that's true and try to be an accurate reflection of Christ and all that you say and do

BlindTony …

Hi this is Tara in Los Angeles and I'm calling to pray for Jeremy in South Oregon. Lord Jesus I just lift my brother up to You. He has cancer and he is looking at going to Hospice soon. And I just pray Your peace and Your love over him. And I know that the nights can be scary and feel lonely and sadness can be overwhelming sometimes. And Lord Jesus I just to ask that he would feel Your peace and Your love just wash over him in just a physical way and that he will just know deep in his heart in his soul that everything is going to be OK. And I lift up his family to You and I just thank You for them just loving him and walking with him through this difficult time that he's been going through. And I pray that they will be blessed for having had this walk with him. And I pray Lord that You would…they would have a strengthened relationship with You through all of this, that they would turn to You in their grief in their loneliness and their fear and that they too would know ultimately that everything is going to be OK. And I just thank You for that Lord. I thank You for Jeremy's time here and I thank You for where he is headed when he goes home. And Jeremy, I just give You a hug brother. It's a soul hug. And I was there in 2019 and came through it but I know the fear of leaving Your family. And just love You very…

Lord God we lift up the country of Mexico to You. Thank You, Lord for this land and for its people and we thank You Lord for our brothers and sisters who live there and our brothers and sisters who are working there serving You. Praying especially for Maria and others like her serving the people of Mexico on Your bath. We pray Lord that You would be blessing their work greatly, that You would be guiding their hands and inspiring them and providing their needs as they seek to serve You in Mexico. We pray Lord that the love and forgiveness of Jesus would overpower any strongholds of crime, violence, and corruption. We pray Lord for the government of the leaders and pray that You would be giving them wisdom on how best to serve Mexico, that You would help them to be honest and upright and good examples to people. We pray Lord that the people would find You, they would seek You and that they would find You and they might find their identity and purpose in the love of Christ and in the purposes of God and we pray Lord for Your Spirit to fall on Mexico, that You would break any chains of darkness and…and remove any influences that…that aren't helpful. We pray Lord for renewal. We pray that Your name will be glorified in Mexico in Jesus’ holy and precious name.

Hello dear friends my husband of 46 years recently left me, and I've recently just gotten out of the hospital with Covid and I really don't have anyone to help me here at home. And the home health services haven't kicked in yet and I'm just asking for your prayers. I appreciate you and I love you community…I love you. Thank you.

2 notes · View notes

liveandloveandlearn · 4 years ago

Text

The case against Self Help books at 5:30 AM

I didn’t intend to write this cuz the case is very clear to me. But I woke up at 5:30 AM and couldn’t go back to sleep. Then i run into a post from an old...acquaintance (friend is a strong word) on facebook, sparking some pretty personalized thoughts on this case. Here’s what he wrote:

“Stay Calm. Speak Clearly. Don’t be nervous - Advice that will get you out of a sticky situation 99/100 of the time. Agree/Disagree?”

Before I shred this “advice” into pieces, I would say that if this “advice” had been worded slightly differently and reflects its essence a bit more accurately, I would be totally on board. As someone who not too long ago learnt that she’s been carrying around about 3000 tons of social anxiety her whole life, I cannot down play the importance of“staying calm”, “speaking clearly” and “don’t be nervous”. That’s essentially a part of the foundation for building a strong presence and communication, for accessing your knowledge and critical thinking on the spot, and for good decision making. I’m still in my strive to practice that. Totally on board. These are very worthy GOALS for someone who wants to improve themselves or keep something in mind to remind themselves how to act.

Now to the shredder.

HOW are we supposed to stay calm, speak clearly and not be nervous when we’re human and part of our brain is prone to freak out and be nervous?

WHAT if we have social anxiety?

WHAT if no one really taught us how to speak (which is not a what if btw)?

WHO has this advice helped getting out of sticky situations? WHAT KINDS of situation?

HOW did you land at the 99/100 statistic?

HOW can we so sure this would work? Would it still work if you do this but also don’t have a shred of self-awareness, or had done something really bad to get yourself into this “sticky situation”?

Oh potato tomato. “You’re just a downer, a nitpicker, a hater”, I can hear the originator of this “advice” says. I would be tempted to say “Well you’re a generalizer who doesn’t think the details through, and your advice is only good for charming people into agreeing with you, but won’t actually help anyone who needs help”

But I’m not gonna say that in this imaginary exchange. “You’re X” is not a great argument. How about I say: “If you really wanna help people, you might wanna get down to their level and the specific"

...

My acquaintance has a blog of hundreds of posts on self help topics. He has been writing often and consistently on this blog for years - which is very respectable. His blog is full of titles such as:

“You only have 2 choices at any given moment”

“The talent you lack is focus”

“You’ve been thinking about happiness all wrong”

Let’s be perfectly clear, I’m not gonna ridicule or make fun of him. The strive to be better, know better, do better is an absolutely admirable strive, not just in the “oh hey im a good person because I try” sense, but more so in the “I have so many reasons to succumb to nihilism but I’m still trying instead” kind of sense. But here’s the thing. He writes so much about what other people think/say/popularize/market that I can barely see him or hear him. It’s just pretty much a series of “ways to think about things” type of deal. I follow his logic and reasons, and then I feel absolutely nothing.

I get a feeling he struggles to engage an audience that he does want to engage, but he’s still pushing through and continue on. I considered dropping him a note as a reader telling him how much i admire his grit, but he might wanna personalize his lessons a little bit if he wants people to relate to it. Not just write about himself, although that does help, but could also be abused. But write about real stuff that happens, not just idealized, polished, curated logic and reasons. But I’m sure he thinks friend would be a strong words for me too:)). I don’t think i’ve earned the right to be super honest with him.

Maybe I would still say something, I don’t know. Why the hell do I care:))

I guess maybe i feel like such a committed writer should get to speak his own voice, not recited self help bs.

...

Lol i just realized I meant to make a real case agaisnt self help books and then i totally rant about something else. Ok how about this. Self help books might convince you not to think. They might tell you hey you’ve been dumb, blind, feral this whole time. Let us show you the way to absolute fulfillment, because you’re wonderful and you totally deserve it. Who wouldn’t want to believe thats true? Who wouldn’t want to believe that they are capable and totally deserve it? So they put their own voices and thoughts aside, deeming them unhelpful. They give up their unique vulnerabilities and strengths for a couple tips and tricks. That’s my case agaisnt self help books.

3 notes · View notes

fairycosmos · 5 years ago

Note

hey i’m super sry 2 bother ive just been struggling and i know u understand how i feel..i’ve never been this bad in my life. i feel so stupid agonizing over smth like my physical appearance but my reflection genuinely makes me nauseous and throws me into a breakdown each time i see it. i cant help but feel like id much rather kill myself than spend the rest of my miserable existence being so revolting and grotesque. i hate being conventionally unattrctive- going out in public is just the worst:(

hey angellll i'm sorry 2 hear you're dealing w this rn. you're not bothering me either, it's cool. :(( also i got your other anon and don't worry, i didn't think you were calling me ugly djekdkekk,, but i mean i AM lol. and i can definitely relate to feeling viscerally disgusting in your own skin......you're not over exaggerating, i promise. you are always going to have the right to feel a certain way about something that seems to dictate so much of your life. countless women are going through it. i struggle with this every single day myself and i honestly don't have all of the answers of even half of them, unfortunately. and sometimes nothing can calm me down from the shame i feel about being who i am, but here are a few thoughts/ideas that soothe me and may soothe you if you allow them to:

1. our perception of beauty is always being manipulated. they keep moving the goal posts and narrowing the standards to get us to chase these totally false ideals, purely because it makes money. that's it. they plant the insecurity, market a fake 'solution', and profit. when we look in the mirror a life time of conditioning looks back at us and the only way to get around it is to be consistently aware of that fact. once you begin examining and questioning why certain features are seen as attractive and others aren't, you realize that none of it really holds any ground. it has very little to do with our bodies, and everything to do with controlling them. it's all the result of a never ending advertisment, and engaging with it for too long is certainly going to exhaust you and fuck up your self perception. the way you see yourself is not as accurate as you think.

2. we are all going to be old and therefore conventionally unattractive someday any way. a defining factor of this game they force us to play is that we will never win. due to circumstance, or time, or just cause we're human. seems like for women we're not allowed to reach a day over 40 without being ridiculed for it. but i really do believe that getting older affords a certain amount of freedom. when you get to that point in your life, you're going to know yourself so much more than you do at the moment. your perspective WILL be different. you're not going to be basing your worth off of how you look because you'll have lived what you're capable of, and it's so much more than.......appearing a certain way for a moment in time. curating a life worth living pales in comparison to looking flawless. and i know it seems like you can't do that because you feel so gross, but you can - insecurity doesn't have to stop you from putting your best foot forward. you are worthy because you're here. you deserve to live because you are alive. at the end of the day, you don't have to like yourself, but you have to like BEING yourself. you have to learn how to enjoy your hobbies and opportunities more than you hate your skin or your face or whatever.

3. your body is here to experience and relate with the tangible world. it is the vessel with which you are able to walk, talk, love, eat, play, and enjoy. it is very very unconcerned with being palatable to the masses. ultimately, that is not what you exist for. it always comes back to that, no matter how much the world demands a performance of you - you don't have to give one. even if the so called audience doesn't like it. it takes time to truly accept that, i still can't. but working on neutralising the self is key. if you can't love yourself, just acknowledge yourself. these are my hands that allow me to create. these are my eyes that allow me to see. they are doing their job. they are okay. they can't be right or wrong. they just are.

4. self destructive thoughts are always over dramatic, always temporary, and often entirely untrue. it's ok to experience those urges, but do your best to find the line between having them and acting on them. it's alright if it takes a while to learn how. as long as you're attempting. that's all that matters.

5. try to consciously practice healthier thinking patterns on a daily basis. realistically consider how you judge others and why you're being so harsh on yourself when you would never act like that towards anyone else. understand that your energy, your presence, the way you smile and comfort and work, what you can give and receive - all of that is more important to pretty much everyone, than how you look. after a while, especially when you love or care for someone, their appearance becomes a total secondary characteristic. nobody is worrying that much over these self perceived flaws you're so stuck on, as much as you are. if they do take the time to mull on you, it's more likely they think something simplistic such as: oh there's that girl who lent me her homework or who always wears cool shirts, or whatever. they're too busy stressing about themselves.

6. attempt to build your own confidence. this is another thing i can't grasp either but. basically. you are going to be you for the rest of your life and that is a fact. the only realize you think it's a bad thing at the moment is because that's how you've been taught to feel. but you can unlearn, you can let go of what hurts. and that starts with accepting what you can't change and controlling what you can - your self esteem, your internal narrative, how you take care of your body and mind. even engaging in small, seemingly dumb exercises like pointing out three things you like about yourself in the mirror, can make a difference. you have all of the time in the world to learn how to be friends with yourself. but you might as well start now. baby steps are good. if you hide, spend half an hour outside, even once a week. get used to the discomfort. treat yourself. let it all contradict. growth is totally inevitable.

unfortunately, there's no all encompassing answer. you can know all of this logically and still feel Bad. and you're obviously allowed to be frustrated, to cry and break down, to have moments where you just feel entirely overwhelmed with self hatred - i can't figure out how to stop them, and i think they will remain with us for a while. maybe the goal is to just to cope with them in a decent way and not to prevent them all together. but those episodes are not an excuse to take your own life, ever. i can't think of a bigger fucking tragedy than the world losing you before you even had the chance to attempt living by an alternative narrative. you deserve so much better. i can't stress it enough. you have a whole open future just waiting for you, a healthy body to see it all with - it's going to be beautiful, it's going to surprise you even when you think you're a totally hopeless case. you're not. that's just another lie. your humanity is never going to depend on your physicality and anyone who can't accept that can fuck off!!! anyway i hope you know that there are genuinely so many resources available if you feel like this is getting Too much to handle by yourself. you're honestly not alone and if this is having a big impact on your overall stability then you're totally entitled to professional or medical support. it doesn't have to be a big deal. suicidal thoughts are not normal and there are people who will enable you to dissect and overcome them, you just have to make the initial choice to reach out. even if your brain is screaming otherwise. whether it's through school or a hotline or your doctor - communication WILL put your pain in perspective eventually, in turn lessening it. please consider it. even if takes you your whole lifetime to appreciate yourself, the fact that you're here and trying and navigating this shitty world is more than good enough. i'll be rooting for you from a place of total understanding until the end of time. please take and let me know if you need a friend. i'll be here.

*sorry if this didn't help. the other day i was having an Episode and nothing anyone said could've changed how absolutely disgusting i felt. sometimes it's like that. but this will always be here for you to look back on when you're in a more fair and objective state of mind.

#long post #tw suicide #im sorryyyyy this is so long and messy but u get my gist. ladies we r consumed by the world regardless might as well let them choke #anon

13 notes · View notes