#anyway all this to say besties I SEE THE VISION NOW i did before but i am PERCEIVING for realsies this time!!!!!!!
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ok ok FINEE ill make a g*ojo girlie anything for pookie i GUESS!! <3
#leg.txt#*personal#said with pure love of course hehe <3 anyway!! guess who is FINALLY watching j*jk !!!!!!!!#IM SLOW AS SNAILS BUT MY SIB AND I BINGE WATCHED FIVE OR SIX EPS STRAIGHT (when i left off i was on ep2??)#i think it was like 2ish and then i went to my room to sleep and like GOOOJOO i would give my kidney for him im so serious#minako my t*oji girlie your brother is so important to MEE#anyway onto the g*ojo girlie mins future sister in law NDHNKJHDN#trying to think of her thing i mean f*lemeth/m*orrigan d*ragon age's abilities but make it j*jk would be fun?#or biomancy maybe? i was playing r*ogue trader and the p*syker powers would be a neat concept?#that or technomancy?? could be fun??????#if i went the flem/mori route making her mom be sort of like flem where she takes the bodies of her daughters to keep her immortality HMM#anyway all this to say besties I SEE THE VISION NOW i did before but i am PERCEIVING for realsies this time!!!!!!!#i am thinkin that whatever i dont choose i may give to a possible n*anami girlie and minako becomes a full time t*oji girlie <3#t*oji AND ch*oso for minako <3 VERY excited to develop her and her relationships with her men!! peachy keen dream babiee!!!! 🌸💕#sorry besties about all of the asterisks jnsahd i was like YEESH on having this in the tags :') anyway i hope yall are well !!!!!!!!#off to the r*ogue trader brainworms bc HEHHEHE my girlie finally met love of her life h*einrix and HES SO!!!!!!!!#ill do a whole worms for brains yelling sesh about him later bc AHHHHHHH i would also give my kidney for him im so serious *wheeze*#hes known her for five minutes hes giggling twirling hair and giving her gifts yesterday i was SHRIEKING AT FOUR AM!!!!!!!!!#its been fun giving my brain a break from the w*itcher braiworms to prevent my burnout while i brainstorm the ye olde fic <3
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I’m sorry, but you know you can’t upload another piece to Alford Plea and not expect me to barge into your inbox like it’s not already my home and give you a sentence by sentence report. I mean, i am legally married to it and you did officiate the wedding.
Like an actual goddamned vision, he leans against the wall, still in his chef whites (with sleeves sluttily folded up to his forearms now that service is over, like he knows you like) and completely silent.
SLUT!! No but I can just picture this and it’s perfect 🤤🤤🤤
The most aggravating man in the world and you still want to jump his bones when he looks at you like that.
Ugh!! I’ve never heard anything more true
Ah’m gonna head off���oh!” It’s Soap. Of course, it’s Soap. Who else but Johnny would save your life in this godforsaken kitchen that was run by the actual devil.
I literally squealed!! I love Soap in this series ❤️ my little pot wash 😍😍😍 I’m so happy to see him make a return!!
“Erm…I—I don’t know, bonnie. You, uh,” he hesitates and his eyes quickly flick to Simon before they come back to yours. “You’re a good friend and ah’love you. But he pays m’wages. And the two of ye’re screwin’ so—”
I do not blame soap… not in the slightest but damn no help at all? Traitor!
You do as he says, taking off layer by layer of your clothing. When you’re done, he stands in front of you with a small smile. “Beautiful,” he whispers. “Such a gorgeous girl. And all mine, yeah?”
“Mhm,” you agree.
“Say it.”
“I’m all yours, Simon.”
“Good girl,” he praises, and you feel your breath stutter in your chest.
When I tell I just melted 🫠🫠🫠 I love him so much!! I swear!!!! He just knows exactly what to say 💕
Simon Riley’s not a man who smiles a lot. Being with you may have made him soft and a fool in love, but every one of his shy, dimpled grins are so special, so unique, that you feel like you need to earn them.
OMFG!! Dimples!!! I am weeping! I need to see it!!
I loved this piece! I hold it close to my heart with the rest of the story 💕 Every little window into their lives is precious and I savor every one, I think about them often! About going out to their restaurant and seeing what it’s like, what they’d serve. About being a fly on the wall in the kitchen and listening to their heated banter. About what it’s like when the kitchen closes down and it’s just the two of them, packing things up and going home together. When they go home in the evening and decompress from a stressful shift and when they wake up early in the morning just to head back in and start up the prep 💕 chopping endless piles of parsley and tomatoes and onions but they do it together and that makes it all bearable.
I’m sorry, I know I’m rambling, I just absolutely adore these two and their story. Your story.
Anyways… I love you and your writing and I’m grateful for every piece. You’ve got a gift bestie and you’ve gifted us with sharing it. I’m smacking a kiss to your forehead 😘❤️🫶
Babygirl 💕💕💕 ILYSM! And just for you, ONLY FOR YOU, here's a little something. You wanted a sneak peak into what goes on in Simon's kitchen during the mornings when they're together starting prep? You got it!
Takes place during their early early days of dating — not quite in love, but kissing the seams…
***
It's quiet, but you know intimately of this kind of quiet’s transient nature. You focus on the soothing, familiar motion of your knife on the chopping board, while he stands behind your station, methodically sharpening his knife. The only sounds in the kitchen are the low, electric hum of the walk-in, the wet whooshes of his knife moving down the body of the whetstone and your constant chop chop chop of the seemingly endless bunches of parsley in front of you.
It’s a crisp morning, not quite warm in the kitchen yet but…you’re glowing from the inside. It’s him. The cosiest jumper you own and the spiciest hot chocolate you’d ever had doesn’t even start to compare. His presence warms you from the inside out, and it’s strange to dwell on it for too long, making you feel like the ground under your feet’s been swept away and you’re falling, falling, falling.
When he walks past you, his arm brushes yours, and it’s ridiculous, the speed with which your heart takes off in your chest. You stand in front of an open flame for a living and still, your cheeks have never been warmer, all from that one action. He’d loved you for hours the night before—and you him—and still, your heart tries to beat out of its chest at that single touch, maybe the most innocent one you’ve both shared.
But, oh. He freezes for a moment when the back of his hand makes contact with yours too, and you wonder if he feels what you feel. Warmth and electricity and a gentle, insistent voice in the back of his mind whispering yes, this is right, this feels so right, doesn’t this feel so right?
You take a deep, shaky breath and try to bring your attention back to the herb in front of you, vividly green and curly and fragrant and—
“Coffee, love?”
To your utter embarrassment, your breath sounds shaky when you exhale. When you look up at him, he’s too close. Clouding your mind and your judgement and god, you want to kiss him. You want to feel that sharp jaw under your fingertips and his slightly crooked nose against the side of yours, and that shudder in his spine when your tongue touches his—
“...love? Coffee?”
“Yeah. Please.”
You want to chide him for pulling you out of your daydream. If you can’t make it a reality, then he should’ve left you to it. But then he smiles, one of those rare ones, with those dimples on display, and his fingers graze your cheek and then he walks away. You’re not in love, you tell yourself. It’s too soon. But if falling in love with Simon is a peak to conquer, then you’re convinced you’re afflicted with summit fever.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#cod mw2#ghost mw2#ghost fluff#simon riley fanfic#alford plea#lumi writes#ask#xintothewoodswegox
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Hi Katy 🩷 how are you? The brain isn’t braining. I tried writing but I only got about two paragraphs done. I’m feeling the imposter syndrome. Did I ever mention how cutie patotiee I find glasses? So the fact that you wear them gives me joy. I admit to trying to sabotage my vision just to wear glasses.
I did write an ask a few days ago but my phone decided to retire early. All of the content was erased but at least I could refine my idea. Replacement should hopefully come soon.
Anyway! Idea is as follows, I love historical fiction and combining my love for spider punk and spider noir’s friendship in the fanon I’ve created 1940s American pilot spider-woman and here’s why… Noir and p trade war stories while Hobie and p bond over their trauma, yippee! (I never said this would be fluffy) The spider band is lowkey concerned with how casually they do this but to each their own? They’re all very close obviously.
Hobie one day tries to contact p. Doesn’t think much of it considering how many missions they go on along with working for the society. Until someone else brings up, days later, they can’t get in contact either. Noir’s demeanor instantly changes and before anyone can blink he’s gone with Hobie trailing right behind him. Now, they both understand why their spider sense went off suddenly and quite randomly. Feeling sick to their stomachs. Noir more so because he and p are fighting the same war. He knows the stakes.
Once they reach p’s dimension they see confetti and hear cheering. The axis has surrendered and the war is finally over but…where is p? Someone, I’ll let you decide, picks up a discarded newspaper. After flipping through the pages they come across a section titled ‘missing pilot’ written by Mary Jane Watson. Even with their watches they can’t find her location and it slowly tears them apart. Deep down they already know, she’s gone.
Her body is found weeks later. Pictures of the spiders tucked into the breast pocket of her uniform along with her family’s. Bullet holes littered in the plane they used to sit around in under the stars.
A funeral is held. Only family and friends but what’s the difference in a war, right? Her family is awarded her medals along with a flag. The gang watches from the sidelines. Noir and Hobie are the last to leave.
“I know this is coming at a bad time,” Lyla whispers, “but I think you want to hear this.”
P left a recording. Her voice is shaky as explosions and gun fire are heard in the background. She tells them she loves them. All of them. What they mean to her. Hobie chokes back a sob as he hears a loud bang and the engine going out and Noir shakes as her voice cracks. She says goodbye and wishes them well and then, the audio cuts off.
It’s just another canon event.
Hello, my love! I'm good, how are you? 2 paragraphs is better than none! You're doing well trust me. Awwee thank you! I'm blind as a bat without them lol pls don't sabotage your eyes!! Glasses are so expensive and you can't wear sunglasses bc of them :(
Ooohhh how interesting---! OMFG 😭😭😭😭😭😭 THEY'RE BESTIES AND NOW THEY HAVE A MISSING PIECE 😭😭😭😭 I hope this doesn't make Hobie and Noir's relationship fall apart 😟
The recording they left for Hobie and Noir 😭😭 that scene reminds me when steve Rodger's plane was about to go down and he talks with peggy one last time 😔
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july showers + you = <3
no cheating go read the prolong first for more context >:|
bride!lia x bride!reader
warning: literally fluff ppl
“well i do wear the pants in the relationship.” biting her lip lia tries her best not to let out a laugh in the middle of the most important day of her life.
“shut up and pay attention my love.” knowing you wouldn’t hear the end of it late you wink at your bride and turn to face the officiator speaking now to the two of you. after you exchange your personal vows for each other they have you face each other to finish off the ceremony. given the rings lia says her lines and says ‘i do’ while choking up as she slides her ring onto your dinger all eyes fall on you to complete the ceremony.
“-take choi jisu to be your beloved wife?” finding your vision blurry with tears you nod and squeeze her hand.
“i do.” your hands start to shake as you try to place your ring on her but drop it to the ground making lia laugh as you curse trying to wipe your eyes with one hand and feeling the ground for the ring. once you find it you look up and see your expectant bride looking up waiting for you , on your knees once again you slide the ring to her finger. lia drops to the floor with you and pulls you in for a deep kiss as everyone cheers for the happy couple.
eventually due to weak knees and a hungry stomach you both get up and walk down the aisle hand in hand beaming with joy as you make your way outside to the car to head to the reception area. on your way there the back seat is full of giggles and stolen kisses between you and your new wife.
“i can’t believe we did it! mrs.last name lia~now i get to spin my wife down to the dance floor where we’ll-oh no…” one by one little drops of rain hit the car before a full on shower occurs obscuring the view of the driver causing him to go slower. your phone blows up on texts from various party goers already at the venue.
‘hannie: bestie the venue is flooded! everything is ruined even the cake got soaked 😭 what are we going to do???’
lia reading the text takes a slow deep breath before looking at you with a sad smile.
“well…i hated the flavor of that cake anyways, i guess we owe ourselves one reception party for our one year anniversary then?” rubbing your hand all your frustrations and months of planning melt as you eye your wife looking calmer than the storm brewing outside.
“how are you so…ugh hold that thought, driver can you please take us back to the hotel? it’s nearby i believe.” giving you a nod he starts his journey back.
‘hannie: the weather man lied! i’m going to write him a very angry letter when i get back home, what will you do now?’
‘me: start our wedding night earlier than expected…?’
“i guess we’ll be able to get out this clothes sooner then we thought?” nodding lia snuggles close to you closing her eyes as the rain drops echoes fill the silence. at the hotel entrance you’re greeted by staff waiting to escort you to the room when you see familiar faces walking up with a few gift bags in their hands. “ryujin? chae? what are you-“
“we wanted to have a backup plan just in case your outdoor party had some…complication. so enjoy your own private party up in your suite with your gifts and a special cake on the house.”
“aw you guys!!” hugging them tightly lia starts tearing up hugging her friends closely as you take the gifts from them. after wishing them goodbye you both enter the elevator heading up to your room, lia takes the lead guiding you toward the room when she gasps.
placing the things down you follow suit and hold her waist closely. the room has transformed into a mini reception hall decorated in the same fashion with a small cake in the dinning room table. balloons and flowers paint the walls and chairs as music plays through the TV speaker, you turn to face lia and find her doing the same.
“i love you lia, thank you for saying i do.”
“i love you more my love, thanks for asking~” cupping her face you lean closer and kiss your wife full of eagerness to start your new lives together.
go back and change your outfit 💄
#hannie.txt#lia x reader#lia x fem reader#lia x f!reader#lia x yn#lia ff#lia fanfic#lia imagine#lia drabble#lia#itzy lia#itzy lia ff#itzy lia fluff#lia fluff#lia imagines#itzy#i do do you?
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Fuck it Fraturday
Besties, it has been a day. I was tagged by the lovely @alyxmastershipper @spotsandsocks @ajunerose @elvensorceress and @shortsighted-owl 🥰 And, hey, it is still Friday... somewhere. As I went rummaging for this week's post I learned something about myself. Apparently I have a thing for starting mid-season spec fics, not finishing them, and naming them for Taylor Swift lyrics. So there's that useless trivia for you. Anyway, I cleaned up (to the best of my sleepy ability) my S5 offering I'm reaching for you, terrified
bon appetit, my loves 😘
I’m leaving the 118.
Buck has had his oxygen tank run out, he’s been caught in more natural disasters than he’d prefer, and trapped under a ladder truck. Among other things. Those agonizing memories pale in comparison to what he feels now, hearing Eddie’s announcement. He's a mix of breathless and numb and tingling pinpricks dancing over his skin. Of too much and not enough and loss.
Eddie is… casual? Neutral? As if he’s told them he’s only leaving town for a few days, but he’ll be right back. Except – will he? Buck doesn’t know.
For the span of a single heartbeat Buck hates Eddie with everything he can muster. If someone were to ask – in this infinitesimal moment in time – he would swear that he undeniably, viscerally hates him. It would only be true for that moment, of course. But also not true at all. Buck only believes it because he’s feeling trapped. Caught between containing his feelings in a twisted sense of maintaining decorum, and wanting to scream. A buildup of pressure that quickly manifests as shuddering breaths, wide eyes and trembling fists clenched at his side.
Irrational as it may be, this is worse, he decides, than clawing at unforgiving mud. Worse than feeling Eddie’s still warm blood spatter on his skin. Worse than hearing Mitchell Trent’s gun fire without knowing who was on the receiving end. Those were all times Buck thought he could lose his best friend, but they were external forces. The result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time while doing their jobs. This, though… this is coming directly from Eddie. Eddie, who just moments ago, was hugging Bobby by the grill.
A selfish stream of thoughts comes to his mind unbidden. Did Bobby know? Before now? He’s their captain, but why should he be the first to find out? Why does he get the news semi-privately and Buck learns alongside Hen? Maybe because you’ve been too busy playing the loving boyfriend to the first person to say ‘I love you’.
“E-Eddie?” Buck’s voice sounds far away, even to himself. It reminds him of how he would quietly seek out Maddie to patch up his latest injury before their parents could catch on.
“What-” A thousand questions, that he can’t seem to articulate with actual words, catch in his throat. Buck has to force himself to look at Eddie and hope his pleading gaze can ask for him. That’s when he finally sees it. The now obvious pain emanating from behind the mask of feigned indifference.
Then the words ‘for Christopher’ register. And Buck can’t believe he’s been so self-centered by not considering Chris before now. He’s overwhelmed with thoughts of inside jokes, endless optimism, baking experiments, movie nights, trips to the zoo and a smile that radiates pure fucking sunshine.
Does Chris even know yet? Has Eddie considered that their dynamic might change? That schedules won’t align as perfectly, or interactions could become awkward if Eddie shuts himself off.
Bobby and Athena, the enormous Christmas tree, Karen, Denny, Christopher… it all swirls into one blended image that has him swaying. He thinks someone shouts his name, sees Eddie reach out. His field of vision narrows, rapidly fading to black. The cool grass presses against his skin, until he’s not sensing anything at all.
*****
Buck blinks once, twice. He squints at the thin ray of sun that’s made its way through the crowd gathered around him. Hen, Bobby and Eddie hover overhead, poking, prodding, and performing a sternal rub.
“Ow!”
“Oh, good. You’re awake,” Hen says dryly, easing him back down when he tries to sit. “Stay still.”
“‘M fine.” He tries again, but a different hand – with a touch he would know if he were blind – firmly holds him in place.
“Buck?” Christopher sidles up next to Eddie, carefully lowering himself to the ground. “It’ll be okay. I can hold your hand if you want.” The words are so innocent, given so freely, Buck wants to cry. Instead, he sniffs and swallows down the emotions, taking Christopher’s small hand in his own.
“Thanks, buddy. I’d like that.” Buck actively avoids looking at Eddie. It’s too much like staring at the sun on a cloudy day, muted but still overwhelming.
Christopher grasps Buck’s hand while Hen takes his vitals and verifies he’s okay. As okay as he’s going to be, anyway.
“Alright, Buckaroo. Sit here for a few minutes. If you’re feeling stable then we’ll help you stand up.”
“Hen-” he starts to protest.
“I said what I said, Buckley. Don’t push it. I can just as easily turn this into IVs and recommend continuous monitoring.”
“Aye aye, Dr. Wilson.” Buck lets out an exasperated sigh and lets Hen and Bobby help him sit. He’s still avoiding looking at Eddie even though he can feel the gaze boring into him. The crowd starts to dissipate, apparently satisfied that everything is fine. Christopher throws his arms around Buck, burying his face into his neck.
“See, Buck? I told you it would be okay.”
“Never doubted you for a second, buddy.” He rubs his thumb back and forth, lets his fingers thread through Christopher’s curls, breathes in the warm comfort that never fails to slow his pulse and calm his nerves.
“Hey, mijo? Let’s give Buck some air. I think he and I have some things to talk about.”
“Okay, Dad.” Christopher reluctantly loosens his grip, but not before Buck presses a kiss into his hair and squeezes him tight before sending him on his way.
Eddie reaches out, extending a hand for Buck to grab onto, like an anchor. When he stands, Buck simultaneously wants to run away and throw himself into Eddie like Christopher had done to him. He wants to storm off and be held while he falls apart against Eddie’s chest. Instead he wordlessly follows to the relative quiet of the street, sheltered behind Eddie’s truck.
“Buck,” Eddie starts to say. Except Buck interrupts, too impatient and on edge to wait his turn.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Eds?”
Eddie stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks at the ground, scuffing his shoe against the street. He eventually meets Buck’s gaze and there’s no pretense there, no mask. Just Eddie.
“Today was my first chance to talk to Cap about it. And I wanted to tell him first. Because I knew if I went to you first, you would talk me out of it. But,” – Eddie puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder and he’s not sure if it’s more for his own reassurance or Eddie’s – “you have to know this is for Christopher. I need him to know that he doesn’t have to worry about coming home one day to find out I’m not there. So he can stop having nightmares, and worrying that some lunatic is gonna take me out because they can’t handle their own shit.”
Bile creeps up Buck’s throat and Eddie’s hand feels less like a comfort and more like a crushing weight. Because he’s watched Eddie nearly die, wide-eyed and gasping for breath, and it could still happen somewhere else. Somewhere Buck can’t be to keep an eye on him, leap into action, make sure he’s safe. “Does Christopher know?”
“Not yet. I was going to tell him tonight.”
Buck nods slowly, grateful he isn’t the last person to find out. “And what about us?”
“What about-“ Eddie looks at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean,” Buck says, more defensive than he intends, “is you had this whole thing about the family you’re born into, and the family you choose. Made a big deal about promising we wouldn’t drift apart if we didn’t work together anymore. Can you still say that?”
Eddie had friends in the Army, in Texas, that he never talks about. Who’s to say Buck, and the rest of the 118, won’t be replaced by whoever comes next? Eddie and Christopher have become a force in Buck’s life at least as strong as Bobby and Maddie. They’re part of a core group of people who look after him, care how he’s doing, and make sure he doesn’t fuck up too badly. They’re his family. Buck can’t lose them. He can’t.
“I did promise. And I meant it- I mean it. I’ll even—” Eddie pauses, huffing out a humorless laugh. “I’ll even pinkie promise if you want.”
Buck’s eyes widen as he gasps and lifts a hand to his chest like a scandalized maiden. “Pinkie promises are sacred, Eds.”
“I know. And you know I think they’re ridiculous. I am only doing this for you.” Eddie’s hand slides off Buck’s shoulder and he extends his little finger out as an offering.
Buck tentatively holds his own out, intertwining it with Eddie’s. They curl together and Buck can’t stop staring, committing the sight to memory. He wants the image branded into his mind until his heart beats for the last time, until he takes his final breath. Wants to remember this moment when Eddie swore he wouldn’t abandon him.
Eddie pulls him into a hug, wrapping one hand around Buck’s waist, unwilling to let their pinkies separate. The gesture means more than Buck could ever put into words.
“What are we hugging about?!” Christopher barrels towards them as fast as his legs can carry him. Buck isn’t even sorry about the interruption. He welcomes it, knowing that having all three of them together can only make the moment more complete. Buck and Eddie part just enough to wrap him into the fold.
Christopher throws one arm around each of them and Buck doesn’t think he’s ever felt this loved by anyone besides Maddie. His heart feels so full he thinks he might burst. He loves Christopher. He loves Eddie, has loved Eddie. In a way he’s always acknowledged as platonic, familial. He’s never allowed himself to think beyond that. There’s always been a reason to shut it down and not get his hopes up. Ali, Shannon, Ana, Taylor.
Buck can’t even pinpoint when the lines began to blur between friend, family and more. Loving Eddie was a slow, creeping thing that wrapped around him, gradually entwining them together. Buck only realized once he was too attached to even entertain separating himself. Like ivy that climbs up a building, bonding to it so there’s a mark if it’s ever ripped away.
He tells Taylor he loves her, but it’s not the same. Not like this. He remembers freezing the first time she said the words, unsure if it sounded wrong because it was coming from her, or because it was coming from anyone at all. Buck always imagined saying ‘I love you, too’ would be easy when someone finally admitted to loving him. And it is - easy. But at the same time it still feels foreign rolling off his tongue. Too practiced and eager.
“Hey,” Eddie murmurs. “Do you want to be there tonight? When I tell him?”
Tears sting the corners of Buck’s eyes, already threatening to spill over. Of course he wants to be there. He always wants to be a part of anything with Chris and Eddie. His Diaz boys. But, this- this seems like a moment that should be between father and son. Too intimate for Buck to be involved.
“Are you sure? I don’t think-“
“You don’t think what?” Eddie interjects. “That he won’t be texting or calling you the second we’re done talking? That he won’t ask what you think about all this? Don’t think. Just come. Please.”
Eddie wrinkles his nose and furrows his brow – barely visible, like he didn’t want Buck to notice – and bites his bottom lip. “Unless you have�� other plans. I should’ve asked first. Maybe you have something with...” He trails off, waving his hand dismissively.
“No,” Buck shakes his head adamantly, saving Eddie the trouble. “She can wait. I want to be there. For Christopher.”
“For Christopher,” Eddie repeats, nodding thoughtfully.
“What’s for me?” The younger Diaz finally pipes up, eyes shining behind the glare of his glasses.
“Uh, I’m coming over after the party to hang with you,” Buck says. “Obviously.”
Christopher whoops and pumps his fist in the air. “Are you staying to make pancakes in the morning?”
“If it’s okay with your dad.” Buck looks to Eddie, seeking permission he’s already 87% certain he’ll get.
Eddie studies him for a moment, as if he doesn’t understand why it would ever be an issue. Then he smiles, the stupidly fond private one he saves just for Buck and Chris. “Obviously,” he finally answers.
Their embrace becomes more snug as Eddie exhales a content sigh and rests his forehead against Buck’s. It feels like home and safety. Like a place he could stay. Like a thing he could keep.
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Hiiii ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
First of all, I just wanted to thank you for existing and for using your talent to create amazing masterpieces for all of us ♡︎ I love love love every single work by you. I strongly believe your writing belongs in the museum. I hope that one day we will have a physical copy of your work because they are so beautifully written, every single one!!! I love the way you write Rafe so much, he’s different in every story, yet he’s the same. I don’t know how you do it but you slay!!!! If I really have to choose a favorite out of all masterpieces, I already know it’s gonna be home before dark because of the angst and Rafe’s vulnerability ૮ ⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝ ྀིა!!! I keep going back to read cam girl chapter 10-12 just for the angst while waiting for the next chapter of hbd hahah ദ്ദി (ᵒ̴̶̷᷄﹏ᵒ̴̶̷᷅) I feel like I’m being spoiled by you because while reading cam girl (and it’s also my favorite) I was secretly hoping to hear more of Rafe’s struggles and backstories why he is the way he is etc. because I’m his biggest sympathizer and now with the recent story I got all of that from first chapter till now (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)!! The realness, the angst, the vulnerability, the raw emotions, the yearning, the mutual pinning got me crying screaming kicking my feet! THANK YOU TRULY. You ATE every single chapter ︎♡ I feel like I can’t thank you enough for what you do. Grateful and thankful for you, really. Lastly I just wanted to ask that do you write a chapter at a time and see where the story takes you or do you write couple chapters ahead or have you already finished writing the series? Because I don’t know how can it be possible that every chapter is better than the last!!!! Ugh I love the way your mind works. Anyways I can’t wait for more to come, whenever it may be, thank you thank you thank you!!!! You are a gem!!! Have a lovely weekend ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ Muahhhh xx
BESTIE THIS IS SO SWEET OMGGG 😭 i can’t put into words how much i appreciate this??? i can say with full certainty that as thankful as you are for my work, i’m just as if not more thankful for the support 😭 i’m such a broken record but i genuinely would not have the motivation to keep writing if it weren’t for the messages and replies that readers take the time and effort to share with me so THANK YOU 💘
wrt my writing process, i start every series with a very loose plot outline and usually write each chapter as i go. for home before dark though, i had the first three parts done before posting anything because i wanted to get all my ideas out and was v determined to get the backstory out slowly instead of dumping it all in the first part. i usually stick to the biggest plot points i outlined but all my series so far have dramatically deviated from my original outline bc the story/characters ran away from me and did what they wanted to lol 😋 i also get rly inspired by comments and love to add little scenes to incorporate ideas readers share with me if they fit with the vision i have for the story 🥰 my original idea for watch and learn did not have rafe yearning nearly as much as he was but when readers were like “make him suffer” i was like bet 🙂↕️
thank you for your amazing message 😭 i think every writer can agree that the work you put out there feels like a little part of you and it’s kind of a vulnerable act to share your creative writing so it is THE BEST PRESENT EVER to hear such nice feedback 😭 and i know i’m not the only one who gets unsure/insecure about their work every so often so feedback like this makes me feel so good!! i already know i’m gonna keep coming back to read your message!! i love you and i hope you have a wonderful weekend 💘 THANK YOU ANGEL
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𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓯 𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓷𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓪 ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡
hi guys im officially on ao3!!!!!!
thx for all the love n support for my aot fic so far! ive had so much fun writing + creating this story based of my favorite animanga (and big shoutout to my bestie @youngblood-182 for helping me edit ilysm♡)
here’s a lil blurb from one of my fav chapters (feat my angels levi and hange)
ofc if u like it, check out the ongoing story on ao3 or wattpad ♡ ♡ ♡
Octavia Braus never wanted to be a soldier.
But in the year 845, when the Colossal Titan appeared, she had no choice but to fight back. Taking the ODM gear off of a nearby dead soldier, she desperately attempted to protect herself against the titan hordes. When the smoke cleared, standing amongst the carnage, she was immediately arrested by the Military Police for unauthorized use of military gear.
And so, at just 17 years of age, she found herself with two choices: execution for committing a capital offense or enlisting and using her innate talents for the good of humanity.
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐬
“So,” Octavia said, her eyes trained on Pyxis. “I guess this means you’re my commander now.”
He chuckled softly. “It’s funny you should say that. Considering it’s actually become a recent subject of debate.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”
Almost as if on cue, the second knock of the evening resounded against the door.
Pyxis sighed. “Yes, yes. Come in.”
Octavia didn’t dare to turn around. The sound of multiple footsteps entered. One particular pair rapidly approached her on the right. A chaotic blur abruptly caught her peripheral vision. She turned her eyes only to be met with another pair, behind wide rimmed glasses and full of wild enthusiasm. A face suddenly coming into view, one that she didn’t immediately recognize because it was only inches away from her own.
The person dropped to one knee and grabbed Octavia’s hands into their own, cupping them lovingly and enthusiastically. As she locked eyes with the person beneath her, it suddenly registered. It's them. The scout that was intensely watching me at the trial. What the hell?
“Hiya! My name is Zoe Hange. I’m with the Scouts.” Their eyes were glistening, and their mouth grew into a broad smile. “Wow! Aren’t you a beauty? Speaking of beauty, I heard you encountered the Armored Titan. What was he like? I wanna know everything! Please tell me every last little gorgeous detail!”
Octavia was so shocked by this sudden declaration that she didn’t notice the rest of the people that had entered as well.
“Oh, uh. Well-”
A different voice emerged from across the room, slightly in front of Octavia. The two simultaneously looked up to find the source.
“Give it a rest, four eyes. She’s not gonna wanna join the scouts if you act like a crazed lunatic.”
Octavia locked eyes with the one who was addressing them. It was him, the man that had harshly scolded Nile. He was much shorter, standing at eye level, with straight black hair hanging over an undercut and the same dark, condescending glare. He leaned against the wall to the left of Pyxis with his arms crossed and that same unmistakable attitude of irritability. He’s even scarier up close. Damn. Wait...Did he just say I’m possibly joining the Scouts?
Hange turned their head back to Octavia, that same wild look in their eyes. “Nevermind shorty here. He’s just got a severe attitude problem. Anyways, that’s a nasty scar. You said it happened when you fought the Armored, right?” They leaned closer, their nose almost touching Octavia’s. “What was it like?”
She felt another presence approach her from the left. She turned to see another scout from the trial who was bent over and aggressively sniffing her. He stood, giving a satisfied smile and nod, before taking a seat to the right of Pyxis.
“Hange, that’s enough.”
Another familiar voice. Octavia’s eyes met the kind, blue eyes of the Scout Commander as he entered the front of the room. His calm, confident composure was a nice change from the sulking soldier in the opposite corner. The man gently smiled.
“I’m Commander Erwin, leader of the Scout Regiment. I see you’ve already met Hange.” He nodded toward the other blonde man that had just abruptly smelled her. “This is Miche, and this other soldier is Levi. They are all members of the Survey Corps. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Well, up close and personally, at least.”
Octavia blinked, unsure of what to say. Her hands were still firmly clasped in Hange’s. It was almost comforting, in a way. Her eyes trailed back to Pyxis, wearing an expression of annoyance and exhaustion.
Erwin approached Octavia and knelt down to meet her eyes. There was something about him, so calm yet so full of fierce resolve. His presence was mesmerizing.
“Octavia, on behalf of the Survey Corps and humanity itself, I want to thank you for what you did in Shiganshina. Your actions were nothing short of selfless, and your immeasurable courage was truly inspiring. Your death at the hands of the Military Police would have been a grave fault.”
She couldn’t tear away from his cobalt gaze. This man was a Commander, a distinguished military member, yet here he was, showing reverence for an ordinary girl.
“Um, thank you?”
Levi scoffed, Pyxis tried to stifle a chuckle, and Erwin warmly smiled, his eyes never leaving hers. He rose from his position on the floor and returned beside the Garrison Commander.
“But, I have to be honest,” Octavia said. All eyes turned to her. “I’m not a hero. I just did what I had to do and it probably didn’t make that much of a difference. In my defense, I’ve always been the reckless, selfish type but me? A soldier? I don’t know if I’m cut out for that.”
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air before an annoyed voice cut through the tension.
“Tch. Well, isn’t that great? We went through all that trouble to save the brat, and this is how she repays our kindness.”
Octavia turned to see Levi, his cold eyes fixed on her like a predator aiming to strike its prey. A look she was certainly no stranger to.
“Guess that’s it then,” he continued. “Maybe we should just let the MPs kill you after all. I’m sure Nile would have no problem making time in his busy schedule for your execution. What a waste of time this has been.”
What the hell did he just say to me?
In an instant, something in her snapped. She cocked her head slightly to the left, proudly displaying the gash lining her cheek. Her eyes were half-lidded, a deadpan expression on her face. Levi’s eyes widened slightly.
“If this kid’s really from the Underground like you say she is, then she knows how to fight. If you were smart, you wouldn’t push your luck. That’s one fight you’re guaranteed to lose.’ That’s what you said, right?”
She briefly looked him up and down with narrowed eyes before continuing. “You should probably take your own advice.”
The already uncomfortable silence swelled.
A hearty laugh erupted, breaking the discomfort, but Octavia didn’t dare to break eye contact with Levi.
“Ah, what a relief. And here I was worried that your tenacious spirit was just a farce.”
Levi scoffed and turned his attention toward Pyxis, who was still trying to control his laughter. Erwin sighed. Octavia remained locked on Levi, trying to visibly hide the intense satisfaction she was feeling.
The room remained quiet for a few more seconds until an excited voice spoke up.
“So. About that Armored Titan?”
“Hange!” All four voices scolded ceremoniously.
#aot#snk levi#aot hange#aot drabbles#levi x oc#snk fic#attack on titan#levi aot#aot imagines#hange zoë#aot headcanons#erwin x reader#levi x hange#attack on titan x reader#aot final season#shingeki no kyoujin levi#levi ackerman x you#hange x reader#miche aot#aot scenarios
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(Stream is dated 24 September, 2023)
Zee Streams: “Eyeless Besties? Zubetcha!”
[Stream Beginning Soon…]
[When the lobby screen swipes away, Zee is revealed sitting in a dark, rocky place. She’s wearing a red leather jacket with a black fur collar, and she’s slung her signature cape overtop of that. Her arm is still in its pink cast as she’s sitting criss cross on the ground with a small lantern beside her. Her oricorio sitting behind her wearing a tiny maroon jacket. Their breath is visible, and the lighting is quite poor as Zee has the lantern turned down to just barely glowing. She winks, and the stream switches to night vision, casting her and her surroundings clearly and in black and white]
“Hello, my lovely skiddo kiddos! You’re here with me, Lady Zee, and today I’m in the Shoal Cave just north of Mossdeep. I came here to meet a very special friend in its natural habitat. Where’d you go, sweetheart?”
[She pats around on the ground and twists to look around herself without moving too much. Then she collects something in her gloved hands and turns back toward the camera]
“There we are. Say hello, little fella!”
[She slowly opens her cupped hands to reveal a small zubat curled up in her palms. It yawns]
“This is a zubat! We’ve all seen them, right? They live most commonly in caves, but they also dwell in forests and even urban areas. You may have seen them before hanging from the eaves of your house or in your shed or garage. And if you’re night oriented like me, you may have seen them out flying around to hunt!
The sun just set outside, so this little one is just waking up with its friends to get ready for the night. It actually fell in my hair when I came in. I guess I startled it.
You’re probably wondering, “Zee, zubat is so common. What are we here to talk about?” Well, have you noticed zubat doesn’t have eyes? Duh, right? Have you ever thought about how golbat and crobat, its evolutions, DO have eyes?
As of right now, there are no known pokemon that undergo such an extreme transformation as suddenly gaining eyesight. Some get new skills or sensitivities, but we don’t see any without eyes suddenly GETTING eyes like this. Even the ones that grow extra heads with eyes start with eyes!”
[The zubat begins crawling across and almost out of her hands. She moves hand over hand so it can crawl without falling. When it stops, she pats its little head with her forefinger, and it emits a tiny squeak. Another zubat flaps down out of the dark and lands on Zee’s head, also squeaking]
“Aww, hi! Haha, they like me!
Anyway, the oddity of the stream is what does this change feel like to a new golbat? And why does it happen?
Golbat are known to recognize their trainers by face, so it seems likely they’re using their eyes, meaning the eyes are not just vestigial. They can also choose to actively avoid light and pursue darkness, so they’re not relying ONLY on echolocation like they did as zubat by that point. Now, what does this feel like? It must be overwhelming for the poor things, having their entire body change so suddenly AND they can suddenly see? Imagine that. They’ve literally never seen anything, and BAM! They can see everything! And they have to get used to being bigger! And being essentially a mouth with wings and eyes!”
[Another zubat descends and lands on Zee’s shoulder. It squeaks, and she pats its head with her fingertip]
“When zubat evolves into golbat, the ears get smaller which would imply it relies on echolocation less in this middle stage. If you’re a fan of zubat like me, you probably know zubat and golbat only evolve with high friendship. It’s a recent speculation that this occurs BECAUSE of the drastic change the pokemon undergoes. It can SEE now, so it needs a friend to help it through this transition.
You know what I think? I think it evolves to have eyes because it loves its friend so much it wants to see them the same way its friend sees it! Golbat are somewhat rare in the wild, possibly because they find it difficult to develop this type of companionship with other pokemon, or maybe because zubat colonies are so big they rarely make a single best friend, instead having a lot of friendlies.
And supporting my theory, occasionally a golbat will evolve without eyes. Maybe this is because its friend is another zubat, so it doesn’t need eyes? The zubat line is highly social, observed in them living in colonies and traveling in large groups, so it makes sense statistically they would occasionally reach this minimum friendship with other zubat.”
[Two more zubat flap down. One lands on Zee’s other shoulder, the other lands in her hair and scrambles to find a way to climb up. Zee’s oricorio is watching, eyes crinkled with a touch of concern]
“Blind golbat are capable of everything a seeing golbat is, other than seeing of course, so if you’re thinking of raising a golbat and you find the one you caught in that dark cave or forest or backyard is eyeless, don’t be concerned! Your new friend will be just fine! In fact, have a look around for another member of the zubat line fluttering around nearby! Your new friend’s other friend might be there, and it would be awfully mean to separate them.
Do take care if you’re going to look for a golbat. Zubat are almost harmless. They’re very small and not too venomous, so even if you get bitten, with a bandaid and an antidote you’ll be fine. Golbat are much larger, however, very venomous, and they actively drink blood. A lot of blood. You are full of blood. Never forget that.
And a wild golbat does already have a buddy somewhere, so it would be a little mean to take just that one golbat. And it may take longer to evolve into crobat if that’s your goal because it has to start to like you after you rip it away from its friend.
So long story short, unless you want two of them, if you encounter a blind golbat just leave it alone. It’s doing well for itself. Find a zubat instead so you can be its best friend for life!”
[The sound of more rustling wings is heard as two, then three more zubat descend. Two land in Zee’s lap, and the third lands on the ground in front of her]
“Okay, there are a lot of these little guys in here. The sun just went down, so they’re all waking up and getting ready to go for their night time exploration. I did expect them head right out, though, not stop to chat with me.
Maybe we should move.”
[She stands up, scraping her boots against the rocky, salty floor, and the camera rises to follow. The zubat that were sitting on her either find a way to cling, or lose their grip and begin flapping in circles around her. Visible through the night vision adjustment, there are many more wings flapping up behind her. Two more of the small pokemon land on her back, squeaking. The others begin squeaking as well. Zee looks down at the growing noisy horde, baffled]
“I might be in their way.”
[She starts walking with her oricorio leading the way. The zubat keep coming, a new one finding a place to cling to her every dozen steps or so. Then half dozen. Zee quickens her pace. Her oricorio takes flight, and she begins running as the cloud of zubat gives chase. She turns on her lantern, and the camera switches out of night vision mode. Her pink and red outfit is quickly being smothered blue by the little pokemon. They begin shrieking]
“Okay! Yes! It is DEFINITELY time to go!”
[There’s a deep, loud screech, and a significantly larger pokemon flaps in front of the camera, quickly outspeeding the others and making a beeline for the fleeing streamer]
“Okay! OKAY! I’m going! Remember, skiddos! Mommy loves you!”
[Thanks for Watching!]
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LMAOOOO I perfect timing because I finally had the freedom then to go on a tiktok binge but OHHHH but fr looking at all the pics he sends gives me nostalgia and makes me wanna pick up a game again lowk…but Pokémon renaissance so real actually besides like game guide content and like tcg I’ve never seen much of the pokemon fandom?? So it’s nice getting to see it revived a bit if ykwim
YESSS finally off the big grind for now I have a bit of grass touching like you for halloweekend but nothing like, debilitating work LMAO but ENJOY YOUR GRASS also WAIT I forgot to ask about the unnamed app you posted about being free from WAS IT WATTPAD because if so I lowk had a feeling LMAOOO but either way CONGRATS ON GETTING RID OF IT
Omg wait did you start the Yuta revolution too then….I don’t surf the jjk tags as much anymore but I thought I remembered there being a good amount flowing at some point idk 30k sounds pretty insane to me either way LOL your influence on the fandoms >>>
Ok wait listening to it right now and I hear (?) the vision (??) LMAOAO I feel like it’s something about the quality of the vocals?? Love the vibes though
EXACTLYY he’d just be like “your ticket please” and Karasu just screams the way Niko is unintentionally funny within the oaeu makes it ten times better oaeu references are fr like a “iykyk” thing LMAOO secret Easter egg when you see them creeping into the side character roles it’s like a little treat
Oooh very true!! Yeahhh I think a lot of names do end with “i” I think the letter for the sounds “ri” is probably one of the most common letters for naming which factors into that also YEAH I love looking at characters names because I think the naming convention for media characters usually follows like making up names that allude to something about the character rather than typical naming conventions so picking out those little hints is always fun LOL chigiris first name is a combo of the word for panther (umbrella term for large cats that aren’t lions or tigers) and horse as ref to his running! Bachira’s name is a mix of bee and fun which also fits LOL and otoyas first name also has the word shadow! Nobaras last name (jjk) also has the character for nail in it in ref to her ct and nanamis name phonetics also sound like 7 3 which also references his technique LMAO anyways I’ll stop here before I start writing an entire essay on this but yes tldr very common indeed
yayoi Seiko akane besties is actually my fav I’ve definitely seen a bit of fanart floating around about the potential interaction and we fr need a scene of the three meeting! Akaseiyoi?? Idk if im set on how that combo sounds but you get the point LOL
LMAOOO ELDERLY AIKU COMING SOON wait that would be so funny like imagine Aiku as a 65 year old still working to help others rizz girls up (while still doing it himself) and you’re just plotting with this elderly man while feeding pigeons or something
LMAAOAO I lost it when I heard it but yeah!! They’re both from the Kansas region so their overall dialect is the same. There’s some slight differences between the different prefectures within the region on specific words and stuff but generally when you hear them they’d just be categorized as having the same accent! I wanna say the difference is kinda similar to the different types of British accents that exist based off different regions/areas where they all sound British but there’s slight nuances and whatnot so the fact that Karasu barely has an accent compared to hiori makes me laugh so hard
LMAOOO FR I think the va did a great job making it not sound as like…this sounds mean but I just can’t think of a diff word but whiny? In like pitch if ykwim his voice is still rough but it doesn’t have that same awk straining sound from s1 which is nice but AGREE Shidou and Barou definitely fit very well and SHSGSHS ANRI FS actually I also think Nagi’s voice sounds cute in some moments LOL
I KNOWW the way they both stood in the inventory arc geto pose (it was geto right) staring each other down with the hair in the AT was so funny like Karasu was not afraid of getting clocked LFMAODHSKD PLEASE no fr if anyone can rip Karasu’s shirt off in a fight it’s Shidou….shidou channel your inner rseu and read it off please….
OH YEAHHHHH LMAO the fanservice goes crazy they always pop off with the locker room/bath scenes im hoping we get like a fully fleshed out visual of them instead of just the little tiny zoomed out background character panels yk
LFMAPAO THE MEME HAS ME SENDING the way you took the time to make it has me rolling
FR Isagi does NOT need defenders he’s already got infinite plot armor we all know he’s making it so sit down Isagi fans….yeahhh err the nagi struggle rn…..lol……..I swear ever other post I see about him is a downfall analysis post and im like damn ok
The popularity poll switch up is crazy I remember when nagi was dominating and win was just kinda treated like a side character LMAOAOA talk about tbt
LMFOAOA HOWD THIS BECOME A CONVO ON THE BALD LOOK im dying just imagining them bald imagine reo with a bald spot just in the middle of his head but he still has his front bangs
LMAOOO they kinda sound similar too va wise??? Aiku fans truly are the bllk version of toji fans it’s giving old man but I also didn’t realize how short the third selection arc would be I needed more Karasu spotlight moments…..please kaneshiro throw in a Karasu moment in the PxG match im begging
The more you know every convo brings new Mira lore to the table but OOOOOH OK noting these all down to listen to later!!!
The Kaiser edit was too fire they didn’t have to go so hard on that?? PLEASEE WHERE ARE AND KARASU YUKI EDITORS PLEASEEE I SUMMON THEE and YESSS SEND OVER WHATEVER YOU HAVE WHENEVER YOU WANT O7
- Karasu anon
AHAHA okay i’m free from halloweekend festivities so i’m back 🙏🏻 i told my friends i can’t do anything tonight LFJDJDN i’m exhausted so i’m just dressing up in my costume taking photos and then going home to sit in my bed eat takis and write/watch tik toks…omg lowkey i want to play pokémon again too maybe i’ll restart one of old games or smth
YES IT WAS WATTPAD LMAOAOAOA i unpublished all of my stories on there i just couldn’t do it anymore the comments by and large just annoyed me so much and it wasn’t worth it 😭 i feel so free now LDJDJSJ my account is still up but no works or anything and it’s so nice
LMAOOO i did start the yuta revolution fr…i think i posted the first chapter or two of pomegranate ink before the jjk vol0 movie even came out so i was very ahead of the curve 😫 i do that a lot actually like it happened with karasu and otoya as well and probably will happen with kashimo whenever he’s animated HAHAHA i’m very good at predicting which characters will be popular and tossing smth out for them so when they inevitably blow up i already have work waiting for the fans
RIGHTTT i think the vibe of the vocals combined with the lyrics just has a very karasu feel to it somehow i really like that song 🥹
LFJDJSSN SPEAKING OF OAEU CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW OAEU THE ADDITIONAL TIME FOR EPISODE 5 WAS 😭⁉️ like aiku himself was not there but it was so oaeu coded with the niko plotting + aryu shenanigans HAHAHA we didn’t get hair down karasu but we got canon oaeu interactions so i’m taking it as a win
even when i’m picking names for characters i try to take the meanings of their names into as much account as i consider the sounds and vibes…when you’re designing characters everything you do is intentional so it makes sense for that kind of thing to be prevalent DJSJW anyways yeah i def think yayoi and akane would be slay besties…seiko is way younger (since she’s otoya’s younger sister) but the as-of-yet-unnamed older otoya sister would def get along with them too ☝🏻 they def get together and make fun of their younger brothers LMAOAOAOA especially yayoi and otoya’s older sister
HELPPP old age would NOT stop him from spreading aikulations he fr would be that emo old man sitting on a park bench helping “those damn kids” get together with each other omg bonus points if niko is there too and they feed pigeons together or smth 😭😭😭
yeah that’s what i figured!! like city to city there’s always a few differences but generally a broader region will have a pretty similar feel to it…i’m glad they didn’t give that accent to karasu i can’t believe they gave it to hiori though 😭 if anything i would’ve expected nanase to sound like that??? since he’s supposed to be all country and whatnot??? and yeah karasu doesn’t sound as weird and gravely and fried now it’s just deep without being scratchy suchhhhh an improvement i’m excited to rewatch in dub for him barou and yuki!! AGREED i do really like nagi’s dub there’s a few scenes where it doesn’t sound as majestic as the sub (specifically the second selection where he beats barou in the game against barou and naruhaya) but for the most part i think his dub is excellent and also closer to what a guy his age would sound like ☝🏻 i also really like chigiri’s dub and how it’s on the deeper side it really emphasizes his boyishness…i think of the season one character dubs the only one i didn’t really like was bachira’s 😩 ooh wait another dub voice I LOVEEEE is reo’s his is so perfect for him
LMAOAAO INVENTORY ARC GETO POSE PLSSS apparently it’s like a delinquent pose in japan or smth that’s what tik tok said when that ep came out and everyone was making fun of geto’s posture 😭 but lowkey why is it so attractive that karasu can stand up to shidou…i bet he’d be so good in fights given his handwork skills and whatnot he just is too mature to get into them but he could absolutely rock shidou’s shit if needed PFJDJSJSJ no because if pxg loses i want shidou to go apeshit on karasu (for no reason really) and take his shirt off and dump a bucket of water (that he gets out of nowhere) on his head…come on shidou ik you’re for the girlies DO IT FOR US
okay given the DETAIL they’ve been showing karasu’s arms alone in the anime i think it’s safe to say we will get some glorious shots of them which i am very hype for indeed
THE MEME HAD ME CRACKING UPPPP i was like wait i need people to see this it’s so accurate😭 i love making memes like that…in terms of writing i’m serious and emo but in general i am a silly and goofy gal as you know
not isagi getting ANOTHER level up in the last chapter…okay but only two chapters left in the volume dare i say game concluding soon?? and then they can start the next game with the results of barcha vs mc because that’ll be a good transition to the next arc (god bless…hopefully this means more nagi and barou again)
REO WITH A REVERSE RECEDING HAIRLINE IS CRAZY okay imagine nagi with the albert einstein look JDHFJSSN or barou and karasu with combovers i’m crying
I CAN’T BELIEVE NEXT WEEK IS LITERALLY THE START OF THE U20 GAME I’M SO EXCITED SLFJDJSJHSSN aiku literally is bllk toji also i have to say any budding attraction i had for aiku is GONE his actions are hot sure but the facial hair is even WORSE in the anime like that shit is EGREGIOUS it looks so bad 😭😭😭 he needs to shave
HELP the mira lore is a little too crazy at times i fear but yesss if you ever want recommendations lmk!! and tell me what you think of those ones 🤩
kaiser has so many good edits it’s insane considering he hasn’t been animated yet 😭 he’s another toji equivalent i feel but more so in the sense that he’s hugely popular even before being animated 😒 WISHING THAT WAS KARASU.
sadly i haven’t had much chronically online time because of my partying BUT this edit cracks me up every time i watch it so i’m sending it over…this editor is the number one nagi hater but they’re so funny about it i can’t even be mad + this is technically nagireo hate which is lowkey me asf so i can’t help but support
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Promo time!!!
Oop I can already see drama from the hovering over the video for just a second 😭
Okay let's do this xD
AAAAHHAUGH he should've 😭
But also I mean he does have a right to be mad xd
Hmm it's not really BECAUSE of him though
True though not an apology, especially since he probably came to him with it as an apology xd
AAAHHH NEW PEOPLE!!
SLFKGDLSJS "I'm about to pee myself" "Please do not" girl fr xD mood lol. And please don't, but also she seems sweet :D she's so excited to meet him :)
Heard there would be another autistic doctor looking up to Shawn and this is really cool!!
Hope it goes well :D
Writing wise mostly lol
I mean all med students do lol
Is that xD? I figured it's from a different conversation than that topic but eh maybe not! Either way she seems cool :)
Bro looks annoyed before the how we learn bit btw lol xD the bit before the wave
Oope 😳 o.o contaminateddd
Hmm well yeah bestie that is how it works sometimes
Sorry xD I know you're/she's probably just trying to be clear lol not necessarily in shock but honestly that's also valid
Just not time for that in an OR necessarily lol
Oop "Leave. Now" o.o
Gosh I hope this goes well xD
Anyway!! I'm so excited :DD
That's the last of my last thoughts on the promo, so now it's time for the. . .
REVIEW
I loved this episode!! I thought it was a really good premiere and having it be all about babies was fun :D. Obviously with other stuff going on but given that that was one of the big/biggest events from last season (two of the biggest, if we include Eden), specifically the end of last season, so it makes sense to have the episode kind of centered around that :)). But in a thematic way so it's not just one or two babies :), if that makes sense? Yeah, sure, it does :D. Anyway, I really liked it :)). And I'm SO glad they all survived lol xD 😅.
Now! Onto personal bits :))
They'll be short because I actually did decide to do this tonight lol
Missing Danny <33 glad he's doing well though, and that he and Jordan are still in contact and on okay terms :)). I hope he comes back one day but with just one season left, for character arc reasons I hope he doesn't xd. Unless there's a flash forward, which would be rude because I deserve to see him come back lol. Anyway!
Marcus just screwing off is amazing xD. Yk what, after everything he's done (like worked hard I mean and been through some stuff), he deserves it xD. And I'm happy he and Dalisay are happy and good :DD. Good for them :)). Ik the actor quit to focus on his political career but I do hope he comes back for the end :). Just like Antonia and a ghost vision of Melendez lol xDD.
Lim and Glassman fighting over the President position - but in an opposite way xD? - was great lol xD. I love these two idiots. Plus, like I said, the serious mixed with joking tone was fun lol. Anyway, they slayed 😌
The Asher Jordan bestieism :D. But I really hope we actually get more of that in the future :((. I love Asher and Jerome (I would say as much as the next person but I love them way more than that xD, I absolutely adore them lol) but I feel bad for Jordan :(, and I need me that bestieism time <3. Related and separate concerns lol. Anyway, while I hope he spends more time with Jordan in the future I do get it and I don't really blame him much lol. But yeah, he slays, I'm sure Jerome was slaying too, they slayed <3.
I'm glad Jordan has Kalu back now :)). Honestly I was not thinking that would be his avoidance reason but it's interesting! A good reason writing wise but I am glad they made up a bit :D :) also that takeout bit at the end was so cute 🥰 them <3
Y'all I was stressed about Park and Morgan this episode 😭😭 xd. I didn't think that after all this "work" like put into the storyline they would kill Eden but gosh was I scared xd. I'm so happy he and Jack survived though :'D :')). And I loved the bond they formed as parents <33. Also hallelujah that the parent issues didn't last for another episode, I was scared it would but I'm so glad Morgan took at least a step into accepting Park into that more <33. Bc he was so valid for wanting her to acknowledge his love and effort more, and I'm glad she did :'). I love them both so much :D <333 :) 🥰. Anyway, I'm so glad everyone's okay <33
Once again I just really feel for Jordan 😭. It sucks to feel like others are leaving you behind and I just really hope/want the best for her <33. It's such an isolating feeling so I hope it goes away for her soon, at least mostly. I'm glad she has Kalu now too :').
Shaun and Lea once again just out here doing their best :')). Like I said, I like that their small disagreement didn't last too long. Not that the small ones necessarily always do on the show, I'm just saying this one was small. I just like that Shaun noticed it and talked through it without needing any- prompting, I guess :). Like neither of them had to have a big moment where they knew they had to bring into, they just lived, tried, and adjusted :))). I really loved that :D <33. Also, stop, they're just so cute <333. Anyway, Steve is adorable :D, and I love them all so much :) <3. Also the bit with Glassman at the end is just aaOUGH still going so insane over that dynamic and always will (be). It's just so interesting that even when they're not really speaking, Shaun will still confide when he's at a low point, even almost can't help it, and Glassman will still be there for him and take care of the baby <3. Y'all I love them so much 😭😭❤️. Ill over them <33. Also the ending scene was just so real (literally, was so just. . . idk yeah, real xD. I can't personally relate.to that exactly but it was just really tangible, you could really feel that, and I ADORED that about it, just loved it) and good. AUOGHH!! Loved it <33.
Overall, I really enjoyed this episode!! I thought it was super great and I loved the theme, plus there were just so much good scenes that felt so real and raw. Also let us not ignore the amazing emotions and acting from the pair of parents for Jack and Morgan and Park, wow, knocked it out of the part :'o (yes, my brain- zoned out while I was saying that and don't know what I was meaning, but you get the vibe - it was amazing, lol). Everything felt so charged and so great :D. Just loved it!!
Soo, yeah! I really enjoyed this episode, I thought it was great. It was a really good transition from last season and I like that :)). The next episode looks super interesting!
This has been my review of. . .
The Good Doctor, Season 7, Episode 1: Baby, Baby, Baby
I loved it! I'm really excited for the next episode! I think it's going to be an interesting storyline and I hope it goes in a cool direction :D.
I'll be back next week with my review of. . .
The Good Doctor, Season 7, Episode 2: Skin in the Game
See you then!!
#the good doctor#tgd#oasis's tgd chatter#honestly it probably will be next week by the time I get this out ofr the next episode#hopefully I'll watch it though :))#anyway! see you there!!#loved this first episode and I love this show :D#btw sorry if some of this ending stuff doesn't make much sense i started gettimg very tired suddenly in the middle of that lol#anyway :DD#what a great episode and a great start to the season :))#the finale season 😭#I'm not ready y'all xD#and about the title (was gonna include it at the end there but it just didn't really work well): that was how mnay babies there were#(emphasis on was like 'well hey :o!' xD)#just a cool thing I noticed and liked lol#anyway :))!#I love you all :DDD ❤️❤️❤️❤️!!!#byeeee :))) 🥰🥰 <333!!!!
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hey bestie! <3 for the ask game:
8. What project(s) are you currently working on?
14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?
16. At what point in the process do you come up with titles?
22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?
hey a! <3 Okay, so;
8. .... too many. Anything that's not marked as complete on Ao3 (or, er, abandoned. shhh) is a current WIP. I just kind of... wander between them at the leisure of my motivation.
So there's... 40. Of Them. Yeah. Also, not on ao3; your prompts!! which i am definitely writing!!! I promise bestie i really am <3. Just. Slowly. Like a snail. Or a tortoise trying to win a race <3.
14. Oooh hmmmmmmm Ginny Time Travel AU.... ooh! or!!!!! Claysmond anthology!!!!!!!! Yeah. Yeah I'd be happy with either of those. Esp because the GTTAU adaptation could tidy up some of the issues and integrate The Riddle Problem into the main continuity (and... maybe give a better ending than Miles To Go whichhhhh.... sorry about that one). Claysmond anthology is a favourite of mine, though. Would love to see that one, like with my eyeballs, fully visualised. I don't. I don't know why i put it like that. That's how - that's how vision works. You know what? Let's move on.
16. Whenever. Sometimes I have the title first, like with The Things That Bind Us - And The Ties That Blind Us. You know. Because of the saying? The ties that bind us. I was playing on that before I had a single word written down for it. And the same with For What It's Worth, because that's like... the entire thematic underpinning of that story. Heaven Sent. too! I just thought that pun was funny. It didn't have much to do with the actual story other than as a sort of... apt reference to how John even got kids with Mary. Ah, cupid plotline. awful shit. Anyway. But other times it's just kind of like... A good turn of phrase I use, or once I've written something there's a thematic throughline I can apply, like all the poetry references in the GTTAU; Miles To Go is from a robert frost poem. The Want Of Gold To Stay is in reference both to a thing that became kind of a motif of the story which would be sort of a spoiler so I wont say, but also specifically to the poem (also robert frost) Nothing Gold Can Stay. There's - lol there's more than just Mr. Frost's poems in those fics, lol. But yeah. Later was named for what ended up being a motif in the story - that things would all have to be addressed later because the world was ending now so important things were being put off for the sake of survival. So sometimes it's based on something from the story, or I have an idea for a title first. Like, I didn't have a name for Kneel and Disconnect before I posted it, it had a working title for ages, but I ended up using The Incident album lyrics for the chapter titles because Kneel and Disconnect (have a listen, if you like!) happened to start playing when I was working through the metadata portion of posting a fic, so I just used that, you know? It actually kind of fits, which is lucky. (Some, like the Shield Agent!Stiles AU, never lose their working titles. I'm a professional I promise.) Also some of my fics get the Not-Fic: prefix because I like to let people know when it's more an outline than a properly written out fic, like Not-Fic; Inverted Relativity Falls. or my nat time travel fic i... 'wrote' forever ago and never like, extrapolated into. actual fic. oops. I put it into a series and everything! I meant to! I just never did! I'm very reliable. I promise. I swear your marriage prompt is getting written bestie. Promise <3 (genuinely. I'm just... slow.)
Anyway, I think too much about fic titles. And when I can't think any harder about the title or my head will explode, I give up and use latin. Ab Epistulis, In Inceptum Finis Est, Veni, Vidi, Conatus Sum, etc... that's me not knowing what to name something and not actually having had a working title to just leave applied, lol. Sometimes the working title is just 'f'. First key I press on the keyboard as a touchtypist just to fill the required box in the ao3 input screen because, as a perfectly sane and sensible woman, I write all my fic directly into Ao3. :). I don't recommend it. I lose a lot of writing. Often.
22. All improv babeyyyy actually the only one I knew how it would end first was the claysmond anthology (because the 5 + 1 nature of it meant that in the + 1, claysmond needed to end tragically and never happen, so I knew the ending needed to be some kind of sad or bittersweet) and your prompted fics because you wanted fluff... from me, which. I mean. I managed! A bit!! Kind of!!! They ended happy, anyway. Don't - Don't think about the fact itc and it's sequel were set during the camping trip of doom so all the bad that happens after still. happens after. don't think about that. :) All was well :) :).
so anyway! Yeah!!! Thanks bestie <3 <3.
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Stroke of Love
Natasha Romanoff x reader highschool au
(A/N: sup besties I have never posted a fic before so pls give me criticism aight?? Anyway this is based off of this quote and @vancityfire13 gets title credit cos u da best amigo)
Two hours.
Two fucking hours.
Thats how long you had been sitting in the school library while Peter droned on and on about some mundane science expirement he and Tony had conducted.
"Peter." You raised your hand to cover his mouth in a feeble effort at silencing him, "I love you man, but please for the love of God stop talking."
He gave you a look of disdain before peeling your hand away from his face and promptly going back to typing on his computer, grumbling about the "lack of respect for science these days."
Sighing you rested your head in your arms, thankful for the moment of peace and quiet you were given. It wasn't long though, untill you learned that sadly "peace and quiet" just didn't seem to be in your cards today.
Not even a minute after closing your eyes a group of rambunctious seniors walked through the library doors. You didn't even need to lift your head to know who it was; Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson's obnoxious shouting gave it away immediately.
Shaking your head you attempted to ignore the ruckus, but Peter had other plans.
"That's Steve Roger's and his posse right?" He nodded in their direction, "I think Mr. Stark used to be friends with him, I guess they had some sort of fight last year."
Groaning you reluctantly lifted your gaze to Peter, "Dude. Did you honestly just say posse? What is this 1950?" He scoffed at your comment but you continued, "And please stop calling Tony "Mr. Stark", he's only three years older than you and your just helping his ego bro...but yeah I think your right"
In truth everyone knew something happened between Stark and Rogers last year. No one was quite sure what really occurred but the clear rift between the two and the almost cliche splitting in half of their group was easy to see.
Everyone had their own theory of what happened, each more absurd that then next. They ranged from something as simple as a fight over their history report on Sokovia that was blown out of proportion, to Steve and Tony having a messy breakup since they were "obviously" in a secret relationship.
In all honesty you didn't care much for the drama, but your friend Wanda Maximoff had found herself right at the center of it during both of your sophomore year. You had been there for her throughout the gossip and whispers and even again this year when all the drama was brought back to light with her dating Vision; a member of, as the school had come to call it, "Team Stark."
Now she stood before you with the Captain of football team himself; Steve Rogers. She looked over at you and smiled, waving enthusiastically. You grinned back, raising your hand in greeting when you froze. Standing next to Wanda was Natasha Romanoff.
Nat was kind and smart and she didn't take any shit from anyone. People claimed that she had kicked half the guys on the football team's asses for picking on a sophomore and no one argued against it. Though you would never admit it you had had a hideous crush on her since freshman year.
Right now she was smiling softly as Bucky and Sam animatedly told her a story. When she tilted her head back and laughed, you thought you might die then and there.
Your mouth hung open as you gasped out, "oh my god."
Peter's head snapped over towards you alarmed, "What? What is it??" He waved his hand in front of your eyes that were still trained on Natasha. "Y/N are you okay?"
Voice damn near shaking you replied, "I think I might be having a heart attack"
He jumped into action tapping on his keyboard before turning back to you, "What are your symptoms?? Quick!"
Nat continued to chat with her friends while they settled down at a table, and you shook you head as if to clear it, "tight chest, sweaty palms, nausea."
After a moment of typing Peter looked up at you, " do you smell burnt toast?"
You were about to turn towards him ready to fire some sort of snarky response when Nat looked over at you. In the most cliché way possible, it was as if time stood still. Her green eyes met yours and your breath hitched. She smirked at your dumbfounded expression and winked before turning back to her friends.
For a moment you sat their speechless before a string of jargled noise that couldn't even be considered words tumbled out of your mouth.
"Slurred speech too" Peter look alarmed, as he clicked a few more times on his computer before reading from its screen, "alright WebMD says your either having a stroke or-" his voice cut short when he realized you weren't listening. He was about to scold you when he saw where you were staring. His tone turned smug as he stated, "or, your in love."
Tag list: @idkwhygregg you asked to be tagged bro lol
#sorry this might be bad but it was fun to write lol#marvel#avengers#mcu#black widow#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagines#natasha romanoff x reader#peter parker#spiderman imagine#Spiderman#black widow x reader#marvel x reader#mcu x reader#avengers x reader
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23-“Hey, look at me. Focus on me alright?” For jily???
Hope you don't mind I used this prompt to write a second part to this one. There was a concerning amount of distress over it and I am nothing if not a compulsive people pleaser
Happy mf birthday to my bestie, my other brain cell @clare-with-no-i words cannot express how much I adore you. Hope you'll enjoy the custody of our shared brain cell for your birthday as a gift <333
He tried not to feel guilty about the loud noises his feet were making as he ran through empty hallways, an act that went against his every instinct as a Marauder. He just needed to remind himself that he was not hiding from an authority who’s about to catch him this time, rather running towards it actually.
In his haste he forgot to bring his cloak too, though what good it would do to him in this scenario was dubious. Maybe it could’ve helped with a sneak attack, but it wasn’t like they were expecting him now anyway. Occasional ghosts and portraits seeing a pair of feet run around in Hogwarts would be amusing perhaps, if he was in the mood for it.
He clutched the map in his hand tighter. He couldn’t dare to take another look at it in fear of losing time. When he first announced he was up to no good today, it was certainly not because it was a Thursday. Sirius had actually seen to that, making sure that the map was always in the hands of another Marauder every Thursday patrol, without asking for James’ input of course. Today was a fluke, his first one to be exact.
It wasn’t like he had been looking for a little dot named Lily Evans for his own selfish purposes, he was literally supposed to be up to no good before he got severely sidetracked. He winced remembering how he left the dorm quickly without giving an explanation to Peter, trying not to think about the telling off he would receive from Sirius when he got back from his detention.
Well, he could get something for Peter from the kitchens on his way back. As an apology, and a thank you.
Right now wasn’t the time for planning his return though, he first had to hurry up and reach them. When he finally turned the last corner, he had no expectations as to what he would see, only prepared to fire the first spell possible, taking his wand in his right hand.
As he took in the scene in front of him slowly, he realized that was not true, he had been expecting a fight. Certainly not… this.
His eyes passed over Cresswell quickly, cowering in a corner by himself and seemingly not moving a muscle as he stared ahead blankly. Anxiously searching for that flash of red, he finally found it when he turned his head a little to the right. Just not in the way he expected.
With the natural shock of seeing blood, he only lost a second before he ran to its direction. He felt his way around in the dark before remembering he was a wizard, doing a quick lumos to locate where the blood was coming from. The young face in front of him didn’t react to the light at all, laying dead still (not dead, not dead) in front of him. He saw his Hufflepuff tie, yellows darkening with blood, before he saw his wound. All the bleeding seemed to come from his head, his skin paling every second James left to go to waste. But healing spells weren’t his forte, they were Lily’s. He finally let his eyes find her, a coil releasing inside him with the permission.
The first thing he noticed were her hands; one of them fisted, the other one raised, still holding her wand, both shaking. He stood up to go by her side slowly, afraid to spook her out. When he was finally beside her, he saw her empty eyes were fixed on the bleeding boy. No, not empty – terrified, shaken, and devastated but not empty.
He stepped to come between her and the boy, desperate to cut across her line of vision to save her from some of that terror. “Hey, look at me. “He broadened his shoulders to block as much of that scene as possible. “Focus on me alright?”
His words appeared to have no effect on her from the way she was looking. He put his hands on her shoulders but couldn’t decide if shaking her to “snap out of it” would actually be beneficial before he realized where she was focusing on. Green gaze cut a straight line to his heart, he tried to slow it down for her sake.
Her frail hands found their way to his chest unsteadily, clasping firmly right above the beating. He let her clench the shirt between her fists, trying to encourage her to copy his breathing. When her eyes met his at last, it was his turn to lose his breath this time.
“James? What–what are you doing here?”
Her breathing still felt too shaky for him to relax, so he bent his knees to stare her directly in the eye instead. “Lily, I need you to breathe in and out at the same time as I do. You think you can manage that?”
Eyes widened slightly with a manic look, she nodded her head unsurely. Her inhales steadied comparably after a few tries, hands loosening slightly from their tight fists. Scared she would take them away, he put his own on top of hers, allowing her to ground herself as long as she liked.
“They have left.” Her voice trembled slightly. She didn’t continue until James squeezed her fists, once. “Just before you came. I didn’t understand why at the time, but I guess they thought you were a teacher.”
“Who has left?” he asked gently.
“The Slytherins. They were—” She finally seemed to remember what stood behind James. “Is he okay? I couldn’t break his fall in time. There were three of them and—”
“Did you try to take on three Slytherins on your own?” He tried not to grit his teeth, but it was hard, voice coming out clipped anyway.
“It’s not like I had any other choice. Cresswell was…” She trailed off, not sure how to finish her sentence. James knew exactly how he could finish it, but that might be his bitterness talking.
He couldn’t focus on how if he were the one with her tonight, he could’ve helped her. Lily needed his supportiveness now, not his ugly jealousy rearing its head.
“I think he has a severe head wound, but I didn’t know how to stop the bleeding. And he isn’t moving at all.”
Lily dropped her hands in a flash, running around him to go to the Hufflepuff’s side. Before he could mourn the loss of her, she had her hand under the boy’s nose, “Well, he’s still breathing.”
“Can you do anything about his injury?” He was crouching beside her now, watching her do some spells to check over the still body.
She looked pensive for a moment. “I could but if he lost consciousness there is a chance it might be something more serious.” The look she gave to James as she got up was urgent. “We should take him to Madam Pomfrey immediately.”
“I can help you with that.”
They both turned to the voice coming behind them, surprised that Cresswell was up and about. He was looking back at them sheepishly, neck flushing under their gazes.
“I think you’ve done enough help so far,” James sneered. He knew this was not the prefect’s fault per say, but the anger simmering behind his skin had not passed after hearing what Lily had to do alone, prompting one cutting remark from his lips.
He had been good so far, he deserved it.
“Why don’t you go back to your room, Dirk?” She sounded tired, and he immediately regretted his little moment of pettiness. “James and I will handle the rest of it from here.”
She turned her back to him without waiting to hear his retorts, starting to levitate the injured boy carefully. While James cleaned the blood on the floor, she waited. He tried to suppress the giddy feeling rising inside him at the act.
They started walking towards the hospital wing side by side, Lily surprising him by taking his hand. If it weren’t for the occasional blood dripping from the boy in the air, it could be considered romantic, like a midnight stroll in the castle.
They continued without speaking, until Lily finally broke the peaceful silence. “I think it was a bad idea.”
He desperately willed his heart to calm down. “What was, Lily?”
“Us not patrolling together and… other things. I may have made a mistake.”
His grasp on Lily’s hand tightened with the words. “Well, we still have time to fix it, don’t we?”
#jily#jily fic#jily canon#james potter#lily evans#james x lily#jily fanfiction#senem writes#these are steadily getting longer fuck
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If We Had 5 More Minutes
Hey Besties, I just want to say that there will be talk of death, grief and a brief mention of alcohol being used to cope and as always me not proofreading. Anyway, this kind of sucks but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Hold on besties! I’m so proud of all of you
A mission goes wrong and you die. How would they react? Let’s find out
The mission was supposed to be a quick one
Get in, take what you needed and get out
But it wasn’t
Before you even got there the vibe on the jet was weird
Bucky and A few others claiming they had a bad feeling about the mission
“All I’m saying is we should be extra careful, I have been doing this long enough to be able to tell when somethings wrong” Bucky said to Steve obviously frustrated with the way the Captain wasn’t listening. “Buck you just need to take a breath, if you aren’t ready and can’t put your superstitions to one side then I will take you off of this mission and leave you in the jet” the blond replied using his captain voice. You were watching this all from your seat knowing that it was best not to get involved and get so emotional before a mission. You did have to admit that something felt strange but you had put it down to the adrenaline pumping through your veins as it always did before a mission. “I’m sure we’ll be fine, we’re a team remember. We go in together and come out together no matter how we are feeling” you said trying to lighten the mood. Whether it lightened the mood or not the men decided to drop the subject and carry on the prep.
If only
When you all made your way to the designated start point the air was still filled with something you couldn’t decipher, whatever it was you could cut it with a knife it was so prominent
Still you and the rest of the team got ready for Caps orders
“Ready guys?” Steve's’ voice crackled over the comms
“What? Ready to kick some bad guys ass? When are we not” Tony joked. He always had a joke to make or a way to lighten the mood “Hell yeah Stark” you giggled. “Alright, on my count” Steve said, you could tell even just by his voice that he was smiling “1. 2. 3. GO GO GO”
And with that you were off like a flash.
Zooming straight to the North Corner with Sam just like you were told
It all went wrong so quickly that if someone were to ask you what happened you wouldn’t know where to start
There were more guards than you had previously anticipated meaning you all had to work twice as hard to try and find the USB with the information on
“Uhhhh Steve, we might need some help up here” Sam called through the comms as he fought off 2 agents at once. Mean while you were struggling to hold off 3. Left hook. Duck. Kick. Slash. Slash. Right hook. Just as you had been trained to do, whether it was the fact there was 3 of them or the fact that they were practically a wall of muscle, you were finding it hard to dodge their attacks. You already had a black eye, a slash on your arm and at least a fractured or bruised rib. “Steve Hurry up, unlike you I don’t think I can do this all day” you joked trying Tony’s tactic to pretend you didn’t feel like there was an elephant pressing on your chest.
Steve got there shortly after
Having taken down all the agents on his side
However 1 shield and 4 more agents with guns wasn’t exactly the most reassuring situation
Bang. A scream.Falling to the ground, a scream tore from your throat. When had the guy aimed at you? Why did it feel like you were falling in slow motion? Your body hit the floor with a thud “Y/N’S DOWN GET OUT TO THE JET NOW” you could here Caps voice but it sounded like you were underwater. As you drifted in and out of consciousness you could feel your body being lifted up by a pair of arms and carried out of the building. Opening your eyes all you could here was the dull sound of cried from your team mates “it’s going to be okay” you coughed, blood spilling out your mouth. That wasn't a good sign. “We’re a team remember?” you said, smiling as best you could as your black dots started to cloud your vision. “Don’t you dare die on us doll!” Bucky choked from somewhere on the jet, “Bucky's right, we’re a team just like you said” Bruce cried. Where was everyone's voice coming from? “You can’t leave us” Natasha sobbed, you tried your best to open your eyes but they just felt so heavy. “I’m not leaving you” you said breathy “I’m always gonna be here” struggling to speak you said the only thing you had the strength to and the only thing you could think of “I love you all, I’m sorry” tears rolled down your cheek as you looked into Steve’s eyes. “It’s okay princess, you have” his sentence was interrupted by a cry “nothing to be sorry about” and with that you closed your eyes.
Dying. It didn’t feel like how the movies said it would. It wasn’t like being embraced in a blanket, it wasn't soft or calm it was harsh and rushed. You had been ripped from your families world in a flurry of tears and blood and broken promises. That’s the thing about death. The people who describe it as greeting an old friend or surrendering to the unknown in a blissful and unaware state, fail to account for the people we leave behind. The broken, griefing and shattered people. That’s all the Avengers were without you. Broken people. Bruce no longer looked forward to leaving the lab to see you standing there with a coffee in your hand and a knowing smile on your face. Tony no longer joked, opting to wallow in his pain at the bottom of a bottle. Steve no longer found joy in drawing, you were always his inspiration and now you were gone. Bucky no longer talked, what was the point if the people listening weren’t you? Clint was no longer a shoulder to cry on for others, spending more time at home with his own family. Vision no longer used the door to the bedroom you had once occupied, in fact he refused to go in at all. Thor no longer laughed. Loki no longer took pride in his magic, it’s not like it saved you? Wanda no longer baked, you used to do that with her. Pietro no longer raced around, it was normal to see him slowly walking through the corridors remembering how your laugh used to bounce of the walls. Natasha no longer had someone to mother or even talk to. Peter no longer smiled.
That’s the funny thing about losing someone you love. You often find yourself remembering the times you had, asking yourself all the what if’s and the why not me. It leaves a person shattered and more often than not the only person who could mend that was the person that was no longer there. Without you, they were no longer a team. I mean how could they be when you were the glue holding them together?
Yes the world kept turning and the sun still rose.
But without you around to light up their lives like the star you were
The world didn’t seem the same.
So how did they react? How did they cope?
They didn’t.
#the avengers#avengers x platonic reader#avengers x teen!reader#avengers x reader#avengers imagine#nat x teen!reader#tony stark imagine#steve x teen!reader#bucky x teen!reader#loki x teen!reader#bruce banner x teen!reader#thor x teen!reader#wanda x teen!reader#pietro x teen!reader#peter parker x reader
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HELLO BESTIE!! yes I’m on anon but I’m sure you can figure out who this is lol. anyways, for hard hours:
jun + wonwoo + 🤯
~here’s a lil reminder that hard hours are now closed :)~
HEY BESTIE of course I know who this is ;) hopefully i can do your love for these men justice with this hehe~
jun + wonwoo + 🤯 (afab reader, cw: corruption kink)
~ your two seniors were the pride and joy of your major's whole program. they were known for being enigmatic, stoic, never saying much outside of what didn't concern them. they never took interest in anything, until it came to you. you were different: curious, unknown, much too cute for them to pass up. your intrigue with the two men only increased after catching their glances, or the way which they watched you passed them by. what did the two of them have to do with a junior who had nothing to do with them? they were the sharing type when it came to you: the two of them tall and domineering with elegant and muscled arms and broad shoulders. after hours, the student break-room became yours-- the place in which you could bathe in their attention and indulgent exploration of your quaking legs and breasts which they could suck each territorial mark over--only you could see them. the blinds were drawn, permitting only the few slivers of light to outline their forms above you, and each proud grin they could exchange after curling their fingers inside you and rubbing at your clit just to see your reaction. wonwoo favored fucking you to take in the vision from above, grasping so deep into your waist that the sting of his grip started to blend with the pleasure. the small couch was just enough for junhui to take his place at your mouth, tapping at your lips to take him in until the tears would blur your vision. he loved seeing your throat bulge when you took him down, sighing out with a delighted "damn," when you'd gasp for a moment of breath. wonwoo competed with his friend, always making you cum first, multiple times, before either of them would. if you weren't shaking and tight around his dick, it hadn't been long enough. "look at you, taking us both so good." jun grins, jerking his tip to your tongue. his friend agrees, thrusting his length into you and driving you into the couch where you lay. his satisfied grin tells you all you need, and he revels in each and every of your high-pitched moans which he covers with his hand. "don't make a fucking sound." he orders, bringing out yet another orgasm from your core. "such a cute toy," your senior adds while caressing down your cheek.
#binniesthighs 💌#binniesthighs hard hours#svt hard hours#seventeen hard hours#wen junhui smut#jun smut#jeon wonwoo smut#wonwoo smut#cutie anons
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Hello! This is a project for @summer-in-the-archives-event that I worked on with @horizonindigo! We came up with the idea together and based our individual works around the poem I wrote, included in the fic. You can find their absolutely amazing art here!!
I freaking loved working on this one and I got more and more excited as we progressed. I also surprised myself with the poem itself a bit, definitely didn’t expect it to end up quite as cool, if I may say so myself. It was incredibly fun to write.
Big shoutout to @sunflowers-and-frogs for beta reading, I love you bestie <3
I would like to thank all the mods that made this event possible! It’s my first time taking part in anything like this and it was really, really fun, so THANK YOU <3 Love you guys :3 Anyways, enough of my rambling kdfjgkjsdfg
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Relationship: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical The Lonely Content (The Magnus Archives), Kissing, Excessive Tea-Making, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Poetry, Love Confessions Warnings: self-esteem issues, typical Lonely content, discussions of free-will and determinism, graphic kiss
Summary: As Martin fights the remnants of the Lonely's influence on their ride to Daisy's safehouse in Scotland, he focuses on his feelings for Jon to keep him tethered to reality. He watches Jon be himself in the safety of the cottage, share these small intimacies of domesticity and the words come to him as a poem weaves itself into the pages of his notebook...
He feels the taste of salt in his mouth, as he looks out of the car window at the rapidly falling away landscape, covered in the darkness of the night. He feels Jon’s presence next to him, focused on driving but glancing every so often at him with concern. Martin feels like he should say something, somehow fill the silence that has befallen them, but no words ever find their way to his mouth. He stays quiet, watching the trees pass them by, trying to ignore the anxious churning in his stomach. He’s always been pretty good at filling awkward silences with chatter; at least before the Lonely. Now… he can’t help but feel bothered by Jon’s presence, even though he did all of this for him, even though this is what he’s wanted all this time; it’s like a splinter, prickling at his mind, almost causing him physical discomfort. He swallows and feels the salty taste on his tongue; he discards the thoughts and tries his best to breathe through the discomfort, instead focusing on the sensation of Jon’s warm hand on his.
Martin used to be the warm one; he’d always been generating heat and his mind goes back to the early days in the Archives when the basement was cold in the winter and both Tim and Sasha used to gravitate towards him with their respective cups of tea during breaks. Now his whole body is cold, the chill of the ocean breeze and fog having settled in his bones so deep he thinks he’ll never feel warm again. The thought isn’t sparking any emotions in him though. It’s just a thing that he’s learned to accept, just as the fact that he’ll always be alo—
“Do you want me to put on some music?” Jon asks with another one of his glances. Every time, he raises his eyebrows a bit, and tilts his head to the side; Martin expects the concern in his eyes, but he sees something else there as well. He’s been afraid to put a label to the expression for the fear he’s reading him wrong, but the bolder part of his mind tells him it’s fondness.
Jon’s hand is warm, and his thumb grazes the skin of his palm just a little, as if not sure he’s allowed to. Martin looks down at their hands and feels warmth spark in his stomach; he smiles.
“I’m sorry I’m—I’m not really good at the whole, uh… small talk thing,” Jon adds with a flush, turning his head back to the road. “I should probably be talking about something, though, to, uh… to keep you here. I suppose.” He visibly cringes at his words.
“It’s—It’s fine, Jon,” Martin chuckles, and Jon relaxes, fixing him with a quick smile of his own. “I’m just… you know.” He looks down at their hands again and has a brief feeling they belong to someone else. Not him. Never him. “I’m not quite… out of that. Yet.”
Another look of concern. Martin feels heat prickling at his cheeks and he’s a little bit glad, because at least it’s a feeling. He interlaces their fingers and looks out the front window.
They spend the ride in relative silence. Jon tries a couple more times to start small talk and fails; they stop at a gas station at one point and Martin takes out his notebook when Jon disappears inside the station to pay for gas. He flicks through it and his eyes stop at an unfinished draft; he started writing it shortly before Peter took him down to the Panopticon, but he’d only managed to get a few first lines down. Despite still feeling the cold in his bones and his mind being clouded by the remains of the fog, words come to him, and he starts scribbling. He continues to do so even when Jon comes back with tea and an assortment of snacks, blushing just a little bit when Jon shoots a curious look at the notebook. He doesn’t ask and Martin is thankful for it. He’s not the sort to show his drafts to anyone, especially to the subject he’s writing about.
It’s 1am when they arrive at the cottage; they’re both exhausted and they quickly take their bags inside and lock the door. The cottage is small and practical, just Daisy’s style; it’s also quite dusty from months of abandonment. Martin yawns as he opens one of the bags to get the essentials. They should leave unpacking and cleaning for the next day.
He hears Jon’s footsteps on the wooden floor coming back from the initial run of the house and he turns to tell him that, but the somewhat sheepish look on his face stops him in his tracks. Has he ever seen Jon look sheepish before?
“So, uh, obviously this was Daisy’s safehouse when she was, well… Avoiding people,” he says, not meeting Martin’s eyes.
“I hope ‘avoiding people’ doesn’t mean killing them in this context,” Martin snorts, not sure if he’s entirely joking. The humour is lost on Jon, however, as he looks at him confused for a moment before he processes Martin’s words.
“Oh, no, no, I-I don’t believe she, uh… She just slept here.” Jon shifts awkwardly. “And that means there’s uh, there’s only one bed.”
Martin’s eyes widen and his lips form a little “Oh”.
“Of course, if you’re not comfortable with sharing, I can just take the couch, you need some proper rest and I’m used to running on low sleep” —Jon averts his gaze as he speaks. He grabs his bag and walks over to the couch, and Martin wants to stop him talking and just say that they should share the bed, but his voice seems to have left him at this crucial moment. He just stares as Jon places the bag on the couch and looks back at him, aware of the silence. “Martin?”
Martin swallows, a familiar cold freezing his toes. He feels the damp sand underneath his bare feet and a chill runs down his spine. He blinks and tightens his grip on the bag he’s been holding. This is real, he is real, Jon is real.
“You need good rest too,” he finally manages to say, and he’s surprised by how clear and normal his voice sounds; it makes Jon relax a bit. “We should share the bed, if-if you are comfortable with that.”
A small smile appears on Jon’s lips and a warm feeling fills Martin’s stomach again; he knows the smile is for him.
“Okay,” he says softly and picks the bag up.
They manage to keep the awkwardness of it to the minimum; they’re both very tired and at one point it just doesn’t matter anymore. Jon hands Martin a separate blanket and he pushes the disappointment down into a void inside him where he keeps feelings to come back to when he’s alone. It would be foolish of him to hope for cuddling since they haven’t talked about anything yet.
He expects to fall asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow, but he finds himself awake in the darkness after goodnights are said (Jon’s voice sounds so soft and tender Martin has forgotten all about his earlier disappointment). He’s laying on his back, eyes closed, and he feels Jon’s presence on his right. His breathing is steady, not yet slow enough to indicate sleep, but calm and relaxed. Martin peeks out through half-lidded eyes – he hasn’t gotten used to the darkness as much yet, but he can see Jon laying on his side, facing him, his eyes closed and his hair loosely framing his face. One of his hands rests close to his head on the pillow. Martin blinks, fully opening his eyes now and smiling softly. As his vision clears, Martin notices Jon frowning ever so slightly, and he wonders if the faint lines between his eyebrows smoothen when he’s asleep.
“Is watching people sleep a usual activity for you?” Jon whispers with amusement as he opens his eyes and Martin gasps with surprise and looks away, feeling heat prickle at his cheeks.
“Wha—uh, no! No, of course no—Sorry, I—” He rambles, and he thinks he might just die from embarrassment when he hears Jon laugh quietly.
“It’s fine, Martin.” He shakes his head with a sigh. “Really. I-- Sorry, I thought a joke would, um… lighten the mood somewhat.”
Martin risks a look at him and wonders if the red on his cheeks is visible through the darkness. Jon looks at him with that expression again, something Martin would very much want to classify as fondness if it didn’t feel so impossible. But now that he thinks about it… Would it really be thatfar-fetched? Jon had gone into the Lonely just to get him out. Would he have done that for anyone else? Martin rolls his eyes at himself in his mind, of course he would. He did go into the Buried, and it was for Daisy, a person who has threatened him multiple times, kidnapped and almost killed him. If Jon was ready to lay down his life for her, out of all of them, it shouldn’t be surprising he would do the same for his assistant; it says nothing about his feelings on the matter.
Martin’s memories of the Lonely are hazy. He remembers the cold, the dampness, and the loneliness. He remembers his thoughts, the lonely ones, and how they felt both alien and familiar at the same time. He remembers the comfort, the feeling of fitting in, but also the pain and the fear, just before they were numbed by the cold and the fog that made him forget. And then suddenly, Jon was in front of him, looking at him with desperation on his face, tears in his eyes glowing with a green light. Was it Jon calling for him, or just the Beholding?
“What are you thinking about?” comes Jon’s voice and Martin realizes he’s been staring into the air for a while. He blinks and looks back at Jon.
“Uh…” He searches for words before he gives up on trying to come up with an excuse. His voice is quiet when he speaks. “Why did you do it?”
Jon blinks at him a couple times and rises to lean on his elbow, to better look at Martin.
“What do you mean?”
“The Lonely,” Martin says, not meeting his eyes. Jon is wearing a blue t-shirt with a logo of a band Martin doesn’t recognize; the shirt is loose and it uncovers one of Jon's shoulders which would probably be distracting if Martin’s mind wasn't chilled by the remnants of the fog. “Why did you come for me?”
Even without looking at him, Martin sees Jon’s forehead ripple. A while passes as Jon searches his face and the thought that he shouldn’t have asked starts creeping up to Martin’s head. Shouldn’t have brought any attention to the subject, he should just be glad, he should—
“I care about you, Martin,” Jon says in a very gentle and quiet voice, like he’s afraid anything louder would take away the meaning of his words. Martin looks up at Jon and the hint of that intense blush from before makes it back to his face. “You’re… You matter to me. You will always matter to me.”
Martin can’t stop a small smile appearing on his face and Jon mirrors it.
“Thank you,” Martin whispers, feeling a warmth settle in his chest, finally driving the cold away.
“Anytime.” Jon lays his head back down and settles back with the right hand near his face. “Sleep well, Martin.”
Martin closes his eyes contentedly and he curls up on his right side, facing Jon, as if trying to keep this warm feeling from escaping his chest too soon.
“You too, Jon.”
---
Martin wakes up alone in an unfamiliar bed, the smell of foreign covers filling his nostrils and for a second he panics. He opens his eyes and the memories come back to him; their late arrival at the safehouse and laying down to sleep next to Jon.
He sits up, looking at the space Jon had occupied. It’s vacant now, just the curled up covers he left behind, but it manages to bring a blush to Martin’s cheeks, nonetheless. It feels so… intimate to know that they slept next to each other. It makes him feel warm and cosy.
Martin gets up and goes to the bathroom before he finds Jon in the kitchen. He’s humming quietly as he finishes cleaning the table and he looks up when Martin enters.
“Good morning, Martin.” He smiles and Martin’s afraid he’s going to melt. He takes a quick look around and notices that their sparse kitchen supplies are mostly unpacked, and the kettle is already on the stove.
“How long have you been awake?” He asks; some of the shock must have made it to his voice because Jon looks amused.
“Two hours or so. I’ve always been a morning person.” He shrugs and finishes cleaning the table. “Tea?”
A smile lights up Martin’s face and he gets swept up by the familiarity of the activity, while Jon busies himself with fixing up some breakfast. As both of them work in the kitchen, Martin notices the casual brushes of their skin and touches of the shoulders. He doesn’t know if he’s doing it consciously or if it just happens naturally, but he knows that Jon’s open demeanour is drawing him closer than before. He wonders if he’s been like this ever since he woke up from the coma, and there was just no one to appreciate it.
The morning is relaxed, the casual conversation flowing a lot smoother than the day before, and after breakfast they set out to clean the whole cottage and go down to the village to buy some actual supplies. The village is small, but the local shop provides all the essentials they need; for a moment Martin forgets about everything outside of that village and shopping for groceries with Jon, as if this is their life now, in the Scottish Highlands, living together in a cottage. They talk about cooking dinner, and the cows they passed on the way, and Martin thinks he could get used to that.
The bubble bursts when they finish up and Jon decides to call Basira. She picks up after a while and updates them on the absence of both Jonah Magnus and Daisy. Basira says she’ll send some statements up to them when the Institute stops being an active crime scene, and a shadow passes over Jon’s face. Wrapped up in a conversation about their taste in dinner dishes, it was almost too easy for Martin to forget food isn’t the only sustenance Jon needs. He finds it easier to forget things ever since the Lonely. They walk back to their cottage in silence, Martin grabbing Jon’s hand as soon as he lets go of the phone.
When they get back, Jon declares he’s going to take care of unpacking and cooking, and even though Martin knows Jon to be stupidly stubborn, he’s surprised by the strictness with which Jon insists he sit back and relax. Martin doesn’t really complain; he’s spent his entire life caring for others and, to be honest, it does feel rather good to be on the receiving end for once. He watches Jon from the couch for a while, before he takes out his notebook and looks over the poem he wrote in the car.
Wisps of mist conceal my eyes
A lone indulgence to lose one's face
And soothing a part inside that cries
With chilling sadness and numbing grace
The steadfast rhythm of waves ashore
As ocean breeze leaves a taste of salt
The words forgotten, erase what I swore
Until I hear your voice once more
I wondered many times what it might be
That we finally took to calling "us"
What would be left if we broke free
Of dread and horror's eternal grasp
The Eye looms aloft, ever-present dread
Watching all, eternal lids apart
You made your choice unaware you were led
By strings of web, against your heart
Jon starts humming under his nose in the kitchen as he cuts something on the board; the water in the kettle boils slowly and fills the air with a quiet whistle. Martin smiles while shooting a subtle glance at Jon; he seems to notice his gaze and falls quiet, but a smile lights up his face when he sees the fondness on Martin’s face. For all this talk about Jon “losing himself” in the role of the Archivist, this seems as human as you can get. Martin never favoured the approach the other archival staff took to the knowledge of the significance of Jon’s position, and he often wondered how they could look at him and see a monster. Of course he made bad decisions, but so did everyone. They’ve seen or read about so many avatars giving into the powers that fed them and yes, maybe Martin is biased, but Jon was nothing like them. They’ve all been caught in this huge web of statements that turned real; the more they struggled to break free the more tangled up they became, and it wasn’t Jon’s fault that he ended up in the centre of it. He knows Jon tried to make right choices every step of the way. Can you really blame a human being for failing to completely resist something that’s beyond mortality and human reality? One way or another they ended up here, together, and yes, maybe the Eye and the Lonely are still looming as very tangible threats, and Jonah Magnus is nowhere near being stopped, but at least they’re together now. Martin remembers thinking the Unknowing was the endgame, the last chapter of this horror for them, and he remembers the hopelessness of their story getting a bad ending that essentially pushed him into the Lonely; now he feels a different kind of an end approaching – he dares to be hopeful. Maybe everything works out in the end? Maybe, if they were safe and happy, it wouldn’t actually be the end of the world.
Martin looks down at his notebook and starts writing, sticking the tip of his tongue out in concentration.
What is a monster? Where is the line
That would separate us from the world
All I know is our paths align
And we together can battle the cold
You cut through the curtains of mist and See
The green glow fades when our eyes meet
My lips form a soft and quiet plea
To be loved has never felt so sweet
To be loved is a new feeling for me
I only know how to love from one side
But with you I hope we can once be free
Maybe ignore the whims of the tide
Although I know we're not nearly through
I taste and savour your voice, your breath
If only for a moment, we can start anew
And I will follow you even to death
As he stares at the last word of the finished poem, his hand with the pen hovering over it, he registers that his eyes have watered a bit. He blinks the tears away quickly as Jon sits down on the couch next to him, looking at him with a gentle worry. Martin looks up at the two mugs of tea he’d placed on the table.
“Did you make tea?” He asks with mock bewilderment, and Jon scoffs at him.
“I know how to make tea, Martin.” He nudges him with amusement, that gentle worry not quite gone from his eyes. “What are you writing about?”
Martin falls quiet, pressing the notebook to his chest in a knee-jerk reaction.
“Thought you didn’t like poetry,” he huffs out a laugh that’s only a little bit self-conscious. Jon shrugs, reaching out for his mug and taking a sip.
“I don’t understand it. And yes, I have been known to dislike it at times, but… Maybe I could be swayed to give it another shot.” Jon rolls his eyes fondly and looks at Martin out of the corner of his eye, a look that says ‘for you’. Martin grins, heat pricking at his cheeks once again.
“You see, i-it’s all about emotion.” He places the notebook gently on his lap face down and reaches for his own mug. “You w-want to put all of your emotions into words in a-an artistic way, that has a rhythm and, uh, and feels alive. And you want your, uh, your readers to feel that, that emotion through your words.”
Jon listens attentively and his eyes aren’t leaving Martin’s face; at one point Martin gets distracted by it and forgets where his explanation was going. Jon’s gaze has always been intense, in different ways throughout the time they’ve known each other. At first it was judgemental, the gaze of his boss, full of unmet expectations; then it was piercing, watchful and suspicious; as time passed, it seemed to gain more and more weight of the Beholding, something Tim always complained about. After Martin had joined Peter Lukas, the rare glances he got from Jon were full of yearning that Martin didn’t understand at the time; didn’t want to understand. Now, it’s that gentle fondness, interweaved with something intangibly sad and Martin feels an urge to hug him, to bring him close to his chest and never let go; to bury his face in Jon’s hair and protect him.
They move to place their mugs at the table at the same time and snort, amusement quickly turning into a fit of laughter. Jon throws his head back a little with it and Martin wonders if he has ever seen him laugh so openly before. He didn’t think it was possible for him to fall in love with the man even more, but once again, his heart proves him wrong. He stares at him with a lovestruck expression and thinks they should really talk about it. Martin doesn’t know where to start though and Jon seems to be thinking in a similar direction because his expression shifts into gentle seriousness.
“Martin, I…” He starts and bites his lip. “I need to apologize.”
Martin straightens a little; it’s not exactly what he expects.
“I—The way I used to treat you…” Pain and guilt flash through Jon’s face as he looks away for a moment to gather his thoughts. “It was not okay. None of it was okay. And I’m—I’m really sorry for that. It doesn’t—I know it doesn’t change anything that happened, but I” —he sighs. “I really am sorry. I hope I can, somehow, uh… somehow make it up to you.”
Martin reaches for Jon’s hand, and he looks down in surprise; Martin sees his eyes start glistening.
“I’m sorry for everything that happened to you.” He continues in a whisper and his eyes are locked on their touching hands. “I’m so sorry about the Lonely. I’m sorry that you’re trapped in all of this with me, and I would understand if you decided to leave—”
“Jon.” Martin squeezes his hand and Jon’s eyes shoot up to look at him.
“I’m sorry, that’s not an apology,” he sighs again. “I just… I’m sorry, Martin. About everything.” His other hand grips Martin’s. “I’m glad you are still here. I’m—I’m so glad, you d-don’t even know,” he laughs.
“I think I do.” Martin smiles gently. “Thank you for saying that. I’ve—I've forgiven you for a lot of it a long time ago. A-And the rest just isn’t your fault.”
Jon frowns.
“The Lonely was always there,” Martin shrugs. “Peter Lukas was just… a catalyst, I think. But now I have you.” His finger grazes the outside of Jon’s palm and his heart flutters in his chest when he sees that small smile appear on Jon’s face. “And you can’t be blamed for Elia—Jonah’s games. We’re all just… a bunch of people who didn’t know what was going on until it was too late.”
Jon’s eyes fall as he nods slightly.
“He’s still up to something,” he says quietly.
“Figures,” Martin laughs bitterly. “But we’re here now. And frankly, I don’t really want to think about him when we’re finally…” The word ‘together’ gets stuck in his throat, as if it would breach this fine line of ambiguity they’ve drawn between themselves. Jon seems to fill it in and his eyes land back on Martin.
He’s never wanted to kiss him more than he does right now. Jon's eyes are wide and glistening with something that looks suspiciously like hope, and his fingers gently graze the outside of Martin's palm. Warmth spreads in his chest and his eyes flutter a little, not breaking the eye contact. He wants to pull Jon close to his chest, to run his fingers through his hair and feel his breath on his own skin. To really feel like he's there, next to him, with him.
Before he can follow through with any of that, something sizzles in the kitchen, loud in the silence, startling them both.
“Food!” Jon chuckles slightly before he jumps to his feet and rushes to the kitchen, while Martin snorts and follows him. Jon stirs the pan with curry and sighs with relief when he sees it's not burned. He turns down the heat anyway and checks on the rice.
“Jon, this smells amazing,” Martin says, peeking into the pan with cheese and spinach. “I didn't know you could cook.”
“Well, contrary to the popular belief I was a functional human being. For a while,” Jon snorts and leans against the counter to look back at Martin. “It's Palak Paneer, my grandma taught me when I was a child.”
“It looks fantastic,” Martin grins, and Jon rolls his eyes in mock exasperation.
Even though the moment's lost, the remains of the feeling can be felt between them as they prepare the plates and take the food to the table. They easily fall back into usual chatter and, as soon as they’re finished, Martin jumps to wash the dishes. Jon relents after extensive affirmations from Martin that he's alright and he can definitely take care of a couple dishes in the sink, and he drops onto the couch with a content sigh instead.
Martin finishes up with the dishes and dries his hands on a towel.
“Do you want some tea?” He asks and hangs the towel back on the rack. When there's no response, he turns to the couch. “Jon?”
Something sinks in his stomach when he sees that the object that consumes Jon’s attention is the poem he’s finished; he scratches his neck, as his cheeks take on a pink tinge. “Oh…”
He walks up to the couch, unsure, trying to gauge Jon's reaction. His face seems tense, he squeezes the notebook in his hand so hard his knuckles go white, and his eyes are focused at one point on the page.
“Um... Jon?” Martin asks weakly, his heart drumming in his chest so loud he's sure both of them can hear it.
Jon jumps to his feet, startled, and looks up at him with eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights. Martin instinctively raises his hands in a placating gesture, as Jon registers his presence, looks down on the notebook in his hands, and quickly puts it on the table as if it stung him.
“Martin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look, it was just there and—”
“Hey, Jon, it’s alright!” It’s maybe a little not alright, since the poem is nothing short of a love confession and a wish Martin had no right to assume would ever be true, so Jon reading it is less than ideal. Martin rushes to gently place a hand on Jon’s shoulder but when he recoils from the touch, Martin withdraws his hand, cursing everything about himself.
“No, I, uh…” Jon runs his hand through his hair, eyes darting between Martin, his hand, and the notebook frantically. “I shouldn’t have— uh, it’s—it’s your private business, what you write about, so—”
Martin is sure he’s tomato red on the face by this point and hopes against hope that the afternoon light filtering through the curtains obscures it just a little. Jon, on the other hand, doesn’t have the embarrassed blush that usually darkens his cheeks; instead he breathes fast, his hands shaking ever so slightly. Martin sees him hunch just a little, making himself smaller.
“Um, yeah, I, uh—” He starts fidgeting with his fingers. Did the idea of—of love frighten Jon so much? He was stupid to leave it out in the open and now Jon knows, and it’s not how he feels, so he hates him… “I’m sorry.”
Jon’s eyes snap to him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“For what?”
Martin huffs out something like a pained laugh.
“Th-That’s not exactly how- how I wanted to tell you.” He wrings out his hands and shoots Jon a pleading look. What’s done is done and the only thing he can hope for is for Jon to let him down easy and never speak of this again.
“Tell me?” Jon looks down at the notebook again and there’s the worry again, stark on his face. He breathes out, slowly, and looks at the floor. “I don’t—I don’t even want to think this is a possibility…”
Martin doesn’t need to imagine what it would be like to be stabbed, if he wanted to - he’s pretty sure the acute pain of his heart shattering in his chest is close enough. His mind tries to catch up to the emotions, slow them down just a bit, because something seems off, and isn’t this a weird way to reject someone you must have known had a crush on you? But his throat tightens with the swell of pain and shame and Martin blinks away the tears welling up in his eyes.
Jon sighs and plops down on the couch, hiding his face in his hands and pushing his glasses up to his forehead.
“We d-don’t have to talk about it, if—if you don’t want to,” Martin says quietly. He sits down next to Jon, careful not to touch him in any way, and puts his hands between his knees.
Jon lets out a bitter laugh.
“Isn’t that what they—the Web would want? Just… mindlessly follow, go with the flow until something… irreversibly bad happens?”
Martin turns to Jon with a frown.
“Wh—What?”
Jon looks at him with something glistening in his eyes and Martin can see the lines of pain and misery written on his face like they belong there.
“The web,” he says faintly. “Strings of fate. I—” He lets out a breath. “Was I just being manipulated this whole time? Was I ever really—Did I ever have a choice?”
“Jon... what are you talking about?”
“You—You said I was...” He reaches for the notebook and points at a verse with his finger. “’Made your choice unaware you were led by strings of web against your heart.’ How—W-Why did you say this?”
Martin stares into Jon's green eyes with concern, yet parts of his heart start to weave themselves back together. However confused and worried Jon seems to be, none of it is directed at Martin; he looks at him with desperation, almost pleading, and he realizes they’ve been having two different conversations at the same time.
“Oh-Oh, God, Jon, I-I didn't mean—I just, it's a-a metaphor, just that, you know,” he takes a breath. “It does remind me of a web, the-the way we got caught up in Elias' plans.” He looks down, his cheeks burning as he remembers why Jon would get caught at this specific phrase. “I'm sorry for, uh, using that, it was just the first thing that came to my mind and—”
Jon exhales next to him and Martin risks a look up. The uneasiness isn't gone from his face but he relaxes just a little bit, enough to stabilize his breathing.
“I'm sorry for this… this whole thing, Martin.” He gestures at nothing in particular and it's his turn to look at the floor, as if it's all of a sudden the most interesting thing he's ever seen. He starts fidgeting with the notebook. “I'm just—What if it’s true?” His voice goes higher at the question and he closes his eyes. Martin squeezes his arm. “What if I am just... Just a puppet? An inhuman, helpless puppet in the hands of—Of some spider pulling the strings?”
A tear rolls down Jon's cheek and Martin grabs one of his hands. It’s small and still shakes a little; he tries to put all the protectiveness he feels into this small gesture. Jon doesn’t recoil this time, instead taking a moment to watch Martin’s hand clasp around his.
“Jon,” Martin starts softly. “You're still you. You're not some—Some spider puppet that can't make choices.”
“But what if—”
“You've made a choice to go into the Lonely for me.” Martin bumps their knees together lightly and Jon looks up at him. “I don't suspect any webs would need me alive to push you into it. It was You.”
Jon looks him in the eyes and Martin barely stops himself from reaching up to his face to wipe away his tears.
“Or it just makes us think that we have a choice but are ultimately helpless against fate and everything we do is determined by intricately crafted circumstances,” Jon whispers. “Maybe free will is a lie.”
Martin blinks.
“Jon...”
“Maybe I was never able to stop it. Any of it.” Jon’s voice grows more horrified and even though his eyes are directed at Martin's face, he seems to be looking somewhere past him. “Maybe nothing we try to do really matters.”
“Jon.” Martin’s voice gains a bit of force, even though he feels all but sure. “What do you see?”
Jon frowns. “What?”
“Look at me and tell me what you see?” The force is gone; the sentence sounds more like a feeble suggestion than a request, but Jon's eyes refocus on Martin's in a frown of confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“We're here now,” Martin says quietly. “And yeah, maybe our decisions are all predetermined or whatever. I still think it matters that we try. I think our experience matters. And you're not a-a monster without free will, Jon. You care about people, and you’ve sacrificed a lot for other people. You've made your own choices and, no matter if they were good or bad, they were still yours. And I think that matters.”
Jon blinks at him for a moment, then his shoulders slump with a sigh and he interlaces their fingers. Martin doesn’t miss it and he feels warmth in his chest.
“I've always been afraid of—of my will not being my own anymore,” he confesses quietly. “Of, uh... of not knowing the difference.”
“I get it,” Martin nods. “If it’s any consolation, I see a lot of Jon in you still.” Jon looks up at him with surprise and Martin gives him a half smile. “I see a very changed Jon but it's still Jon.” He strokes Jon's palm as his heart picks up the pace. “The same Jon I've first fallen in love with.”
Jon exhales softly, his face caught in a soft surprise, and Martin smiles around the dull ache in his chest.
“You don't have to say anything. I'm sure you've known for a while, but I just... I wanted to say it.”
With every second that passes in silence, however, Martin's cheeks grow hotter, and he concludes that this might have been a mistake.
“I-I'm sorry. M-Maybe I shouldn't have said that, I… I don't want things to get weird or anything, so, uh, we can, we can just forget—”
“Martin.” Jon says his name in a soft and kind of inquisitive way that makes his heart bounce around and transforms the ache in his chest into swirling butterflies again. Martin looks up and Jon’s head is tilted to the side, his face still wet with tears, but he notices something hopeful glitter in his eyes. “I love you too.”
Martin frowns, suddenly wondering if he isn't dreaming. Is Jon really saying what he thinks he is? Did he hear correctly? Maybe he misheard—
“I have for a while,” Jon's voice is still quiet and soft. “I didn't want to say anything because I thought it was too early after the Lonely and you might not feel this way anymore, but...”
Martin swallows, acutely aware of how loud his heartbeat is. He squeezes Jon’s hand and smiles slightly.
“I... I didn't know,” he whispers, not trusting his voice to cooperate.
“As soon as I woke up from the coma, I wanted to tell you,” Jon says. “I thought I was too late; that it took me too long to stop denying the feelings I had because I didn’t know how to deal with them, and I'd missed my chance.” He laughs bitterly.
“So that’s what it was about,” Martin whispers, as Jon's actions towards him throughout his time as Peter Lukas’ assistant start falling into place. Jon looks at him with a frown, so he adds, “The ‘let's gouge out our eyes and escape'.”
Jon scrunches up his nose and clears his throat.
“Yes, well. Yeah.”
Martin chuckles quietly.
“I don't think I would have lasted in the Lonely if I understood then. But then again. It didn't really matter in the end. It didn't help.”
“But it was your choice,” Jon echoes Martin's words from before and their eyes meet again.
“Yeah. It was my choice.”
They stare into each other's eyes for a moment, losing track of time, before Jon smiles slightly and looks back at the notebook.
“I really am sorry for not asking your permission, though,” he says. “I got so caught up in the metaphor I didn’t even finish it.”
Martin blinks, the warmth from his chest spreading to his cheeks again.
“D-Do you want to?”
Jon smiles softly, this new smile that Martin has only seen in the past couple of days, always directed at him.
“If you’d let me.”
Martin needs to look away, unable to handle the affection in Jon’s eyes. He mumbles an ‘okay’ with a smile that’s not entirely under his control and gets up.
“But I am making that tea whether you want it or not, waiting for someone to finish reading something is a torture.”
He hears Jon laugh as he heads back to the kitchen.
When he comes back with two steaming mugs, Jon is waiting for him with a smile and his nervousness dissipates with his next words.
“I like it,” Jon says. “Apart from the, uh, web metaphor, obviously. It's hopeful.”
“Y-You do?”
Martin swallows; the pleasant tingling in his stomach is back. He places their mugs on the table and reaches out to join their hands again. Jon intertwines their fingers immediately and caresses the outside of Martin’s palm with his thumb.
Jon looks down at the verses again and smiles softly, almost sheepishly, a familiar blush darkening his cheeks.
“I—I don't know if there would be anything for us outside of. You know. The fears and all that,” he grimaces. “At least, for me. But, uh…” He looks at Martin again with a hopeful expression that makes Martin melt a little, and he gently caresses Martin's cheek with his free hand. “I really like the thought of it.”
Martin's brain might be short-circuiting at this moment and all of his thoughts take form of fuzzy static.
“Me too,” he says, suddenly breathless. Jon's hand rests cupping his cheek and, are they a bit closer than they were a second ago? Jon's gaze slides down Martin's face to his lips and he feels he might faint right there and then. He doesn't, instead gathering up his courage to take a breath.
“Can I kiss you?” Jon asks first and Martin feels his lips form a grin.
“Please,” he breathes out; the next second their lips meet, soft but urgent, desperate and sick of waiting. Martin's hand dives into Jon's soft hair, fingers scraping the delicate skin of his head and earning him a low sound from Jon's throat. They pull each other closer and find a rhythm to lose themselves in for just a moment; the sensation of Jon's tongue swirling in his mouth, of his slender fingers on his cheek and his neck, the pressure of his body against his chest; all of it making Martin dizzy with happiness.
Martin pulls away when his lungs painfully remind him breathing is still a necessity and he opens his eyes to look at Jon – His soft lips, his nose, his pockmark scars, and his eyes, green yet with no trace of Beholding in them. He takes him in whole, with all of his flaws and all of his virtues, and he feels seen in return, seen by the man he loves and who loves him. The weight of it all hits Martin like a crashing wave and he pulls Jon in for a tight embrace.
“I love you,” he whispers against his shoulder, and he feels Jon's arms tightening around his torso.
“I love you too, Martin.”
#tma#the magnus archives#tma fic#summer in the archives event#niki.writes#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#jonmartin
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