#attempting to build a community there at least a lil bit

[reaja]

ftr im actually not planning on leaving tumblr, they will indeed need to scrape me off their dead servers with a bbq brush when the time comes, but I will no longer be financially supporting them and I will be continuing to contribute to the stress on their servers and the unprofitability of the site until it crumbles under their terrible choices.

[lenasai]

a lil confession from a guy who used to like blaseball. going to preface with i absolutely loved it, the culture, the community, the characters and setting and all. i made art, wrote fics, bought the albums. but as someone who wasnt usamerican, who lived on the opposite side of the world in fact, i always felt a little left behind. joining late contributed to the feeling of lockout, timezone mismatch meant that i slept through events like voting, and the finale.

and… the communal character building. sometimes i felt like i had to force myself to use a usa-centric lens to see what everyone else saw. the deicide jokes were funny, but not when my actual rl faith started being teased and challenged as well.

i think i'll still always keep a shard of blaseball near and dear to my heart. the good parts of it really were amazing. but sometimes when i see people say they miss it, i think, i wish i could miss it as fiercely as you guys do too.

hey, i wanna say thank you for sharing this with me. i think it's an important perspective to put out there. i debated on whether i wanted to maintag it since i don't have a way to reach out and ask if it's okay to do so, but i really think other people should see it. (you can always send me another message if you want me to delete it and i will do so asap)

blaseball, as a game and as a community, was wonderful and overall a net positive, but it was by no means perfect. it had its flaws like any other community, in this case driven by the fact that its active fanbase was largely white and centered in the united states. there were a lot of people who felt ostracized by a community that was supposed to be welcoming to everyone - and whether it was people not knowing how to keep a bit contained to the circumstances of its universe or shutting down discussions about problems in character writing, there were people who got hurt. we cannot and should not pretend that never happened.

and of course, as you mentioned, the game was designed in a way that mostly centered the united states. i think there were attempts to fix this during coronation with planned events at different times, but we never got to see that play out. hell, you could even see it in which locations got to be represented by teams. i'm not personally sure how i feel about the fact that a lot of the teams that were represented outside of the us were prehistory teams. it feels like they took a step in trying, but those are all teams that wouldn't ever see active play, so it rang a little hollow to me.

at least from my perspective, it seemed like there were dialogues happening about this and that there was progress being made to fix those issues, but then the game ended and we didn't get to see anything come out of it. i really don't want to see that all be for nothing. i hope that everyone who learned something from this community will take those lessons and apply them to how they interact with other communities.

thank you again. i am truly sorry we didn't get to have the same experience.

[firespirited]

thought I might add a little to a question unanswered by the video essay: the why?

not as an excuse, not a full explanation either because there's still the matter of the Telos money.

but why does a man live, breath and eat for his channel/career without the passion for researching and learning?

I can tell you that he truly *did* devote his entire time and energy to producing videos and engaging with the commentariat as a full time job, though if the video scripts were copy paste. He probably feels like he's devoted his entire soul for years into this project and the copy paste was "just" to keep up with the youtube once a week upload demands.

IMHO, what we have is a bloke with crippling anxiety, loneliness and body dysmorphia with a pathological fear of rejection who attempted to build an online queer community that wouldn't ever let him down. As far i can can tell he barely left the house, didn't date and i started to wonder if he really had moved when he wasn't visiting any of Toronto's very gay friendly places or even some of the museums and libraries, wasn't making any local connexions even when people reached out. Instead, he spent his weekends chatting online (often on livestream) about gay media, business, youtube and film making.

I think he could have built that safe haven if he'd kept the day job, produced a fully credited video once a month which was in the format of let's watch this documentary, let's read this book, let's dive into a topic and read the various articles followed by his livestream chats. There is clearly an audience eager for it.

and that's where it gets uncomfortable, right? the lines blur between shyness + not wanting to be hurt vs not collaborating and not being part of other established groups. Canada not only has multiple gay filmmaking scenes, advocacy groups and even a whole bunch of Canadian queer youtubers. They don't have to all get along, because there's more than just the Canada based breadtube, there are a lot of smaller channels that'd love the opportunity to network.

Anyway, it was during a live that i bought up some local Canadian networking opportunity, he backed off quite hard in a way that felt like a little bit more than anxiety about the fierce competition that goes on for such stuff. It felt vaguely like Little Britain's "The Only Gay in the Village" but mostly I was reminded of folks in my life who decided to forge their own paths in charity work and activism, specifically the very dodgy intersection between missionary work and charity and charities that are about the joy of bringing fish to the hungry instead of helping the locals who know how to fish get the new motor for their boat. It's actually a really complex and nuanced conversation where sometimes the least colonialist choice is to hold your nose and work with the local catholic church - yeah I know, that level of complicated, here's some reading before I start on the importance of translating books to creoles being a better investment than teaching english to match an english curriculum and how relief work is often predatory business opportunities and how secularism is a tightrope balancing act and don't get me started.

It is possible to walk and chew gum and listen to music at the same time. We can talk about how plagiarism is bad, how the algorithm rewards it, how this guy is probably getting more ire than the right wing grifters also brought up, why left tube maybe feels a lil intimidating, why people build their own little digital or offline communes, how being an educator and being a thought leader get smooshed together in an attention economy that wants to create influencers with a parasocial engagement with folks that want personal guidance, sometimes stolen valour/plagiarism/fake cancer is for power and clout and sometimes it's a maladaptive response to a desperate loneliness I hope I never fully comprehend.

[chrisadew]

chrisadew’s astrology thoughts & observations pt. 1

🖤 Virgo is the sign of critique and skill, so naturally whatever house in your chart has Virgo on it is gonna be the area of life where you use those ever evolving skills to help others, but also where you can nitpick at things, at yourself (stop that pls 👀) and rearrange or attempt to perfect your process. It’s also the area of life that can draw criticism from others.

🖤 When you’re looking at transiting planets, don’t think that because it’s not in the sign your natal planet is in it doesn’t matter! I am a Scorpio rising, so Mars is my natal chart ruler. Every time Mars transits a new sign, it’s gonna be especially significant to me as well as Aries risings. Same goes for Cancer risings with the Moon (changes sign every 2.5 days) etc etc.

🖤 The house with Pluto in it tends to amplify the themes of that house and consistently destroys/renews them. An example of this is people with Pluto in the 11H - your friend groups/communities/associations can drastically evolve over time.

🖤 To give someone credit is a 10H matter, but to leave someone a review is a 9H matter. Business thrives on reviews that build on your reputation - the reviews of the people reflect the business ideals and customer expectations, Jupiter type tings.

🖤 Tbh, you really can see sex in every single house in your chart - not just the 5H and 8H. Same goes for any other signification ever.

🖤 12H Mars people absolutely need an incidental/unstructured physical outlet for pent up energy, aggression and anger. In the 12H, Mars can feel a little bit confused and misdirected sometimes. An outlet can help to ground it and teach you to cut through the fog of Neptune’s domain; it can make your actions more intentional and less erratic.

🖤 The 6H and it’s ruler in your chart speaks to how you deal with and solve problems that arise. Example = if you have the 6H ruler in the 12H and there’s those little itty bitty issues you never seem to notice everyday or just brush off to “do later”? They could for sure bite you in the ass when you least expect it 🫣 the flip side is = you do those things as and when they pop up, and there’s an unexpected payoff down the line.

🖤 Leo risings could potentially do veryyyy well living abroad or away from their birthplace/hometown (their whole sign 12H ruled by the Moon, 5H + 8H ruled by Jupiter, 4H + 9H ruled by Mars, 2H + 11H ruled by Mercury).

🖤 When you satisfy Venus, all the Venusian related things in your life have the potential to change; for example: that's why I see some 8H Venusians come up when they're in genuine, reciprocal relationships (with people that mean something to them, not necessarily romantic) 🥺, the minute that healthy balanced exchange appears, here comes the sense of power, the ability to embrace change and deal with upheaval much better, monies, all the thingsssss 🤩 Same goes for 9H Venusians when they’re on an adventure or studying a subject they really love, or 6H Venusians when they truly enjoy their routine and/or job, they thrive.

🖤 Wherever Neptune is in your chart requires a lil bit of conscious imagination and glamour to charm the themes of that house. Someone with Neptune in the 6H for example could do with a dose of fantasy, magic or spirituality (whatever that looks like for them) in their everyday/work life to make whatever they do feel a bit more worthwhile to them.

🖤 The sign on your 2H (and it’s ruler) can also be representative of how you measure your own self worth and values; it’s your currency and eventually what you will use in trade at the meeting of the 8H (shared resources).

🖤 One thing an Aries 6H is gonna do is figure out a way to cut time on a task. 6H Aries is productivity, but make it ⚡quick ⚡💎

© 2022 chrisadew. All rights reserved

[wildcatofgreen]

The ride over to her lil sib's temp home was... uneventful, to be sure. She rode on the back of Carol's bike, the two wildcats being back to back. Carol gave her a good warning--

"If you fall, it ain't my fault."

She ain't expect anything less from her junior.

She wasn't used to the ground, to say the least. Her expression was kept firmly neutral during the ride--she wasn't an easy read like her sister. But stones if the ride wasn't a sight to see.

So many buildings, so many people, everything blurring by Corazon faster than she could even realize. The wind blowing her fur around, the cool air wisping all around her, and even the danger of falling at almost any moment. It was a serene kind of thrill. The kind reserved for a rollercoaster you've rode one too many times. The one you ride for nostalgic reasons, more than anything.

Corazon understood why her sister liked her bike so much.

Yet, even with all of this--

"So, how long until we get there?"

"Soon. Just a couple more minutes."

Carol was being uncharacteristically quiet. She was such shit at hiding her emotions.

The mercenary expected for her to get distracted a billion times, show her this, show her that, show her all the things she's done and all the people she's met and everything she possibly could, since she's actually outside of that damn museum for once.

It was all Corazon had done for the last couple months--Museuem, Home, Museum, Home, Museum, Home. She was extremely thankful any time Carol came along to help, even if she was spamming puns while she did it.

Carol never stopped talking. It was refreshing, hearing her sister go on about so much after so long. Nice to hear her instead of Aaa or any of the museum's stingy guards.

So, when she didn't show her around, didn't say a damn word unless spoken to...

This is worse than she thought.

---

"Alright, put your hood on, sis. I ain't taking the fall if you get caught by Scary Lady."

"Taking me straight into the maw of a dragon. Honestly, sis, ya gotta take me on better trips." She gave a toothy smirk as she pulled up her hood, tightening the strings so that it covered most of her face. She attempted to flatten her ears so that they wouldn't poke the fabric. Uncomfortable. But hey, anything for her sister.

She took another glance at her junior, continuing to note her silence. A sigh escaped the older's lips.

Carol looked back at the hooded Corazon, "You good?"

" 'Course. Lets get this hole fixed."

The palace was... a lot more blue, than she expected. Didn't realize Earth Dragons had such an affinity for blue, but thinking back on it, the Magister does wear a royal blue as his main outfit. So did Princess Cordelia, from the pictures she's seen and those infamous logs she's been shown.

Feels like there's some sort of cruel irony here she just can't put her finger on. It's really on the tip of her tongue.

A cascade of confusing corridors and hallways later, they finally got to her roo--

"Carol Tea. Thought I would find you here."

Shit. The Regent.

Carol's ear twitched hard when she saw Neera. Felt like it was gonna fall off if it went long enough.

"Ooooh, heeeeeeey Neera! How's it goin'? You goooood?" The fear in her voice was palpable. Damn it, Carol.

The Regent squinted at the wlldcat, "Yes, I am very much fine. I wanted to ask if you knew the whereabouts of your sister."

Carol jumped slightly, stepping a little bit back from the panda. The mercenary in "disguise" had to do the same, as to not get bumped into like before. Unpurposeful bumping would be their end here.

"My siiiiiiis? Pffft," nervous laughter, "Naaaaaah. I gots nooooo idea, heheh. Why? She sleep in like me? You know we Teas are famous for--"

"She has been reported missing for her community service duties."

"Shit, you get reports of that?"

"What was that?" As quick as the Regent spoke, Corazon covered her mouth, realizing her mistake almost immediately.

"Oh, thaaaaaaaaat?" The younger wildcat immediately dashed over to her sister, putting an arm around her and smiling as wide as she can. "That's my good friend! Co... rum... dy. Corumdy!"

Really, sis? That's the best she's got? The elder rolls her eyes.

"Corumdy." The Regent restates, monotone. She totally believes her story. Yup, that deadpan expression just screams 'i believe you, carol!!! youre so cool and awesome!!!'

If Corazon could roll her eyes any further they would roll straight out of her head.

"Yyyyyyyup yup yup yup yup!!!! My new best friend, Corumdy! Ain't that right, Corumdy!" She stares at her elder, daggers in her eyes, pulling her in closer with her arm. She squeezed her sister's shoulder, hard, while forcing out of her mouth, "Best buds!!!!!!!!"

Staring back into her eyes, the older wildcat blinked, before nervously spitting out in the deepest voice she could, "Best budsssss, ha ha."

Carol can be really fuckin' intimidating, when she wanted to be. Maybe she should've been more weary of her than the Regent. Stones know she doesn't wanna fuck with her when she's mad, and vice versa.

"Hmph." The Regent stares at the "loving" display being forced out by the two cat siblings. It was an awkward moment more, before she spoke again, "As I was saying, your sister has been reported missing for her duties concerning community service. It would be much appreciated if you found her and got her back to the musuem before nightfall."

She stares at the older wildcat with a glare that could freeze her heart in place, if she wanted it to, "Let her know she will be working until daybreak, and again when the clock strikes twelve. Clear?"

"Crystal, Scary La--" Carol gets her own glare from the ice queen, sending shivers down her spine, "Lady Regent Neera Scary Neera Regent Ma'am."

"Good. Thank you for your help, Ms. Tea." She begins to walk off, her footsteps echoing as she does, "I do hope you and your ''best friend'' have a swell time together."

. . .

Carol breathes a sigh of relief, and Corazon can't help but follow suit.

"That could have went way worse."

"Graveyard shift ain't so bad. I can deal with that... I think." She feels more anxious about her sleep schedule than the work load. Sigh.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (March 27/2021) - Eret and the Blood Vines

Ranboo and Foolish get into an argument about the mansion, Technoblade grinds for riches, Puffy works on fixing the Community House, Tommy builds a tower, Sam does a subathon, Karl tours Lil Nas X around the SMP...

Eret and Foolish begin to clear out some of the Blood Vines and in the process come to some interesting revelations.

---

VOD LINKS:

Foolish

Technoblade

Awesamdude

Ranboo

Captain Puffy

Karl

Tommy

Eret

---

- A creeper explodes in Michael’s room. Ranboo is upset and confronts Foolish.

- Foolish starts destroying Michael’s room

- Ranboo gives him some gold blocks and he stops. Ranboo leaves.

- Foolish quits and puts the house up for sale

- Ranboo goes over to Foolish’s summer home to speak with him. Foolish tells Ranboo he’s quit. He’s not getting paid enough.

- Ranboo suggests Foolish take some time to recharge at his temple, and that he’ll pay him more.

- They talk a bit about the Egg. It hasn’t done much in a while.

- Foolish tells Ranbo about his plans to create a new statue.

- They reflect on how things have been pretty quiet lately. There hasn’t been much conflict.

- Ranboo leaves and they both continue on their work.

- Tommy sees that all his chests in his house are gone. He’s not sure when it happened, but he decides that he has to appear richer now.

- He wants to hide all his things in a secret chest

- He goes over to Fundy’s old underground base to hide it there

- He returns to his base and starts mining down the statue above his house and Puffy’s Prank Wars stand.

- Tommy works on building the tower near the prison and chats with Tubbo, Jack, Quackity and Wilbur throughout

- Karl shows Lil Nas X around the server with Corpse and several other SMP members

- Eret wants to overthrow the Egg. The Blood Vines are everywhere, people are under its influence, it’s not good for the greater good of the server.

- He thinks the Pro-Omelette people haven’t been doing enough recently, though he’s in support of them.

- He sees that Foolish is on and asks if he’d like to help destroy the red.

- Eret knows that blue soul fire is the best way to neutralize the Blood Vines.

- She’s hesitant to attack the Egg, because she doesn’t know what would happen. If he breaks the Egg, there’s a possibility that it would unleash whatever is inside it and she doesn’t want to risk that.

- Foolish joins the call and they chat. Foolish arrives at Eret’s museum.

- Foolish tells Eret that his statue was warding off the Egg for a while, but it got blown up. Eret asks if they should make an operations base to make plans at.

- They look for a fitting place and decide to use Fundy’s underground base.

- They create a room in an offshoot of the underground base together and create a board on a wall:

“Known Eggheads”

Leader: BadBoyHalo 2nd In Command: Antfrost

Punz

Ponk

“Potential Eggheads”

Hannah

Skeppy

Purpled

- They leave and go over to Foolish’s Temple of Undying. Foolish tells Eret about the Eggpire’s attack. They wonder if they could get Techno on their side.

- Foolish also fills Eret in on Fundy’s social experiment and Puffy pressing the button to explode the Community House.

- Eret shows Foolish the Nether Hub’s staircase

- First business to clear off is Eret’s fortress.

- Eret’s theory is that the Vines may be related to the mortal plane somehow, perhaps to their attempt at resurrecting Wilbur. After the attempt, the Blood Vines started spreading like crazy.

Perhaps they messed with the natural order of things and this is what may have riled up the Egg.

- Foolish says that this is possible if they opened up the plane to the other world, but Wilbur didn’t come back -- maybe something else did. Eret tells Foolish about Ghostbur saying he saw two figures there, then one the second time.

- Eret’s surprised that more hasn’t been done to stop the vines. Foolish tells them that he was a bit naive. 

- They start hoeing down the vines at the fortress.

- Foolish tells Eret that he, Ponk and HBomb went down to the Egg Room and that attempting to break the Egg hurt them back.

- Eret says she doesn’t want to hurt those under the influence. Foolish says he doesn’t want to as well. He doesn’t hurt people anymore.

- Eret asks Foolish about that — “anymore.” Foolish doesn’t want to talk about it, but says that since he arrived in this land, he’s killed nobody. (Eret’s killed 83)

“Some I’m not proud about…a lot I’m not proud about.”

- They talk about the Eggheads again.

“We’re not killing people, we’re doing it…for their own good! For their own good. At least that’s how we see it from our perspective.”

- They use the blue soul fire to destroy the remnants.

- Foolish reflects on how — though it was before his time — after L’manburg went down, it seems like everyone has split off.

- Eret replies that before his betrayal, he thought by bringing L’manburg down, everyone would go back to being together, chilling out without division. He tried to get things to go back to normal, but in doing so, he separated people infinitely more…

And now he’s holding on to what’s left.

- Though she’s been gone for a while, it’s surprising how little has changed. No one is really fighting the Egg.

- Eret also brings up the Red Banquet posters. That could be a turning point in the Egg’s influence.

- Foolish wants to attend it, but he’s not sure. There’s a lot they don’t know, and what they need is more knowledge. Eret says they might attend it together.

- Foolish mentions that there seems to be more people against the Egg than for it.

- They clear the Blood Vines off the Hamilton stage.

- Eret is concerned that the Eggpire might retaliate. Next, they clear off Punz’s territory and the area leading to the spider spawner.

- They rescue a dog from the rain in a boat

- Foolish tells Eret that clearing up all this mess reminds him of that time they cleaned up the mess from the Wither Cult a while ago.

- Eret is taken aback. When was this?

- Foolish insists that it was definitely Eret. Does he really not remember?

- There was also that time that they went on an adventure in the mountain to fight off those trolls.

- Eret insists Foolish must be talking about someone else. He’s been the king here for months.

- Foolish tells him he’s been elsewhere, though.

- Eret asks if Foolish has seen his eyes before. Foolish says he knows what Eret’s eyes look like.

- Eret wants to double-check that he’s talking about the right person and takes off his sunglasses. Foolish says the sunglasses are a new look for him, but they’re definitely the person he’s thinking of.

- Eret says there must be something Foolish knows that he doesn’t. Foolish says the Egg must be messing with Eret’s head, and she should get some sleep.

- Foolish says there are other matters he has to attend to, but he’ll see them around. Foolish leaves.

- The rain starts falling and there is a copious amount of thunder.

- Eret has a lot of thinking to do…we’ll see what happens.

---

Upcoming Events:

- The Red Banquet

- Quackity’s business opening

- Quackity’s next lore stream

- Dream’s lore video

[wizkiddx]

too early

this is a lil fluffy blurb after the state of his ig stories the other mornings I also realise I am VERY late on this but hey ho

tomhollandxreader

fluff + implied smut

It was simply too early to function. Too early to think. Definitely too early to have any logical thought or attempt any form of comprehensible communication. That’s why when the frankly obnoxious chimes of the default iPhone ringtone reverberated through the previously peaceful room, the reaction of the two inhabitants was delayed to say the least. 

It took at least 2 cycles of the noise for you to be pulled from your deep sleep into a semi-conscious state, at which point as a reflex you just rolled over hoping to muffle out the noise with your head pressed downwards. Yet, the pitch of the ringer was just at that ‘sweet spot’ where it was impossible to even try to drown out - one that physically reverberated through your skull. It made you groan whilst growing a lot more consciously aware of your surroundings - particularly to the deadweight of a boyfriend you were currently trying to hide your face into - his strong chest still proving no match for the incessant alarm noise. Fed up and angry for being disturbed, you unpicked your arm from the weird sleeping position it had somehow ended up in , curled weirdly under your right boob, and then shoved at Tom’s side multiple times - rocking him back and fourth. 

With a sleepy and incomprehensible word falling off his lips, he then jerkily and suddenly craned his neck up - you felt the movement against the top of your head.

“Turn your fucking phone off” Grumbling into his side, you reworked your legs to try and get comfy again - more than ready for him to decline the call and the two of you to go back to bed. Tom was still incredibly confused and disorientated from the haze of sleep, taking him moments for the cogs to start turning as he stretched over to his bedside table and grabbed the vibrating device from hell…. maybe a bit dramatic but you loved your sleep. 

With a mutter ‘shit’ as he winced at the phones brightness, Tom pressed his eyes closed, building up the bravery to face the offensive blue light again. It took a couple of blinks for him to be able to focus on the screen, but when he did his eyebrows furrowed even more at the name and he swiped to unlock the phone - which due to the lack of speed surely was about to ring out. 

“-ello?” The hoarse and croaky sound of his voice reverberating round in his chest had you instantly arching up, looking at him with a puzzled and puffy eyes. You couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, but tried to get the drift of the situation purely from reading Tom’s facial expressions in the low light of the bedroom.

“You’re late Holland”

“I’m-I’m late? It’s like-“ Tom cut himself off with a cough to try to clear the morning voice, whilst simultaneously looking over at the bedside to read the clock that said 5:37 am. “It’s 5”

“No it’s 5:40 and we agreed to be at the gym at half past”

Ah. Tom realised. He might’ve forgotten about the fact he agreed to an early morning training session before the morning shoot for Spiderman. 

“Oh shit um I-“

“Overslept? Yeh could tell mate. Just get your ass down here I’m waiting on your fucking door step and it’s fucking freezing”

“Sorry I’ll be right down.”

With that Duffy instantly hung up, the automated tone allowing Tom to throw his head back in sheer desperation. Because he knew he had your pouty eyes to face.

“What the fuck did you do?” Of course, your sleepy eyes were still managing to pierce Tom’s soul as he sighed, feeling your chin lying on his sternum, knowing the disapproving way you were looking at him. 

“I-“ Opening his eyes and trying to soften you up by cupping one of your cheeks with his hand, thumb gently stroking up and down your cheek. “I might’ve forgot I’ve got a PT session.”

“In the middle of the night?” The look in your big y/e/c eyes was so close to making Tom leaving Duffy on the doorstep all morning- instead opt for a blissful start to the day with you cradled in his arms. 

“Before the morning shoot… you go back to sleep love, you won’t even realise I’m gone.” Sighing, Tom lugged himself into a sitting position, forcing you to slide off his body and curl up in the now emptiness of the bed. Honestly, there was nothing Tom would rather do than crawl back up to you and fall asleep in your arms, yet he knew that realistically tomorrow was his day off so that was very soon on the itinerary. Also he just would feel exceptionally crappy if he didn’t get a work out in today, because even if it didn’t feel like it at this very minute, exercise was one of his happy places. You were probably the happiest but the gym made a close second or third place.  But finally and most importantly, he was not getting out of this because his shrt tempered and incredibly bulky PT was waiting impatiently at the doorstep. 

The issue Tom had though was perhaps just how quickly you agreed,  he felt like no sooner had he told you to lie back had you already started to collapse into the pillows. So, after throwing a heather grey top and his simple nike hoodie on he couldn’t help but lean back over the bed to dust your cheek and nose with light kisses. 

“You’re not missing me?” He spoke with a pout, while you groaned slightly, eyes fluttering open. 

“I love you, but …. I love my bed more” Your sleepy grin completely had Tom enchanted, even in the dim light of dawn, he wanted to memorise every little detail of your face. 

“Could the bed have made you cry out its name like I did last night?” The glint of mischief was infuriating, a dirty smirk on his face.  

“Maybe you do have you some uses” Sniggering, you pulled at the tufts of his brown curls at the base of his neck, enjoying the way he leaned further into you at the action. “Anyway you absolutely cannot leave like that.”

“Am I just too sexy in my joggers?” Feeling incredibly self fulfilled, at what he thought was a compliment Tom smiled, leaning back up and starting to edge toward the bedroom door. The small beam of light from the hallway that reached through the door even more illuminating the state of him, as if backlight just to exaggerate his stupid look even further. It had you giggling incessantly, even though you were currently being deprived of sleep, it was all worth it to see the absolute birds nest on top of his scalp - the way his brown curls extended and stretched out in every direction, similar to if he had been fried with electricity. The only possible cause for anyone to have the audacity of their hair doing that, only had a single explanation - and the truth of it had you biting your lips slightly, the memory of last night washing gloriously over you. 

“Nope… you still have sex hair you idiot and I’d prefer for Duffy not to know the intimate details of our Friday nights.”

[luckyspacerabbit]

would you ever share the background you created for kai leng? i'd be so interested in hearing it!

Hehe, yes! Thank you for waiting anon. I wanted to really think this through and make sure I was working with all the possible details of his character.

Okay, so my goal with fleshing out Kai was not to excuse him as a villain or to necessarily redeem him, but to humanize him and hopefully incur sympathy because I find his depiction as a mysterious lackey boogeyman to be 🙄 one dimensional and playing on racist tropes like the yellow peril ✨ (also bioware making him predominantly chinese + a lil russian. extrapolate what u will lol)

So here is my background for Kai :) Lots of childhood headcanoning and then some general talk about his character/why I chose certain elements as I did (such as dumping that dumb phantom blade for butterfly swords AEORHIG)

Childhood: According to the wiki, Kai is Earthborn, and from his general heritage we can assume that he grew up in Northern China (omg that's where my ancestors are from). The most populous city there is Beijing, which, if there was a spaceport or alliance recruitment anywhere, it would be there.

I headcanon that he was born to a bit of an unsteady family, where it was likely there was estrangement and unsafe conditions between the mother and father that may have created a sense of helplessness and neglect from a young age.

In my canon, Dan Hyun's mom, Hannah Shepard was the head of an agricultural research facility on Trident, and was an old friend of Kai's mom (From University, possibly).

As conditions worsened throughout Kai's childhood, his mom decided to take a chance and flee with Kai (age 10 at the time) to Hannah Shepard's science facility on Trident (Sentinel Agricultural Research Facility), where she and Kai would stay for about two years as his mom worked to save enough money for their own place .

Since Dan Hyun was already being homeschooled, it was easy enough for Kai to join up alongside her.

Dan Hyun (12 at the time) was extremely happy to have a friend since life on the facility could be really lonely-- but with all these changes Kai was having a difficult time adjusting, especially when Dan Hyun felt put off by his competitive attitude. After so long feeling neglected and growing in a tumultuous home environment, he craved external validation: homeschool provided an avenue for that. They developed their own academic-based competitive rivalry that counted towards friendship, but grew distant when he moved out with his mom about two years later.

When Dan Hyun was 18 (Kai at 16), she managed to apply to an Alliance Research Training program and receive admission-- something that was considered highly prestigious, despite her parents' reluctance. Kai had already begun to build resentment towards her due to the way her parents treated her (very preciously, sheltered, and without exposing her to the difficult parts of life) in contrast with what he lacked in family and world kindness, creating a drive to supersede her and compete with her once again, if only to have tangible proof that just because he began in a lower place didn't mean he couldn't surpass the vision of success.

After this event, they would strike up a still somewhat friendly rivalry again that continued until Kai enlisted in the Alliance at the age of 18 (his attempts to join directly at 16 failed in my canon lol, but he sure tried )

Alliance Service:

Kai took the combat-driven route while Dan Hyun was receiving training for her eventual research establishment in Akuze, meaning that in their line of work, they never crossed paths-- Though they maintained occasional communication and met up here and there whenever Kai was back from his tours.

This is where I believe his decline truly began.

Some habits, like his desire for tangible proof of success and seeking external validation, manifested more heavily in this time. Collecting badges off of dead soldiers (To remember his skill first hand) is a notable one, but I speculate he relied heavily on the word of his commanding officers to counter his self-esteem. Titles were incredibly important because they were proof. When he began to feel a loss of control which led to emotional outbursts and breakdowns, he would fall back on these bits of evidence that he had done something, anything.

The weight and violence of service combined to break away his mental strength and conditioned him to that of a soldier.

Famously, he was discharged in 2186 after his N7 designation. In a bar fight on shore leave, he murdered a Krogan (OKAY. Listen. The wiki says "first-degree murder" but first degree requires premeditation and bar fight implies heat of the moment. So IDK I think the details around this one are a little fishy. He was on leave but he was a soldier, so ? he probably just had a weapon on him? Okay, I'm not excusing him but premeditation is a bit different from manslaughter so just something I've pondered. It separates intentional killers from accidental murders).

At this point, he is formally incarcerated and set to serve a twenty-year sentence.

Cerberus Contact:

The year is 2177, and Kai has lost everything he's ever worked for. His prestige is gone, he is at the worst place he has ever been, his mom won't talk to him, and he has no one. He had even stopped hearing from Dan Hyun, the only person he could have considered a friend once.

Through a small TV in the prison, he is able to hear about the attack on Akuze, and its one survivor: Alliance Scientist Dan Hyun Shepard. In the attack her biotic abilities (Which she had kept secret for many years) were revealed, prompting immediate recruitment into the N7 Program and a contract for ten years of service. This drove Kai into rock bottom-- while he had nothing, Dan Hyun was steadily on track to uprooting the only thing he had ever felt like he had accomplished.

This is when Cerberus intervened, promising him a home, freedom, belonging, and success.

So of course Kai agreed. Why wouldn't he? He had nothing left in his miserable life and there would never again be a place for him.

Cerberus Intervention:

It's my belief that Kai wasn't necessarily "alienphobic" in the beginning. Instead, I think The Illusive Man saw a very clear opportunity to recruit and nurture a broken man into a pawn of service. TIM is incredibly smart-- everyone who works for Cerberus is. He knew what Kai needed was validation, the promise of success held directly on the tip of his tongue to drive him into tenacity and action.

Organizations like Cerberus, even in real life, prey on people at weak points, fulfill their needs and drape their ideology on top like icing on a cake. That's not to say that Kai is completely innocent-- he ate the sweets and readily threw the world to the side in order to attain more-- but it does give some perspective.

Kai in Cerberus:

In ME2 we know there is some apprehension on Kai's part about the role Shepard will play. He is already starting to feel slighted from failures with Rasa and takes even the possibility of rejection from TIM extremely hard and with violent emotional outburst. This evidences how much TIM has whittled him away over the decade of service. Kai feels as though he owes everything to TIM, that TIM saw something in him-- failing him is disproving that and accepting what Kai has feared all along: that he truly is a worthless and incapable person.

Kai and Shepard:

Kai is best known for his direct antagonism towards Shepard in the events of ME3, directly killing their allies and potential love interests in a way that is extremely personal. Yes, it is part of the job, but at the same time, it's clear Shepard gets under his skin. It's because in the end, after all that setup, Shepard is the one person who can take it all away from him.

They can replace him as TIM's prodigy/ They can bring an end to the organization that gave him everything (From his cybernetic enhancements (uh indoctrination cough couch) ) to his purpose in life. Kai threw it all in with them because he didn't see another choice.

My Canon: The End

So how do things end for Kai in my canon?

As you're aware, you can unalive him, violently. But Dan Hyun is very emotional and due to their shared childhood, I like to believe that there was still a grand feeling of kinship between them, a recognition of the other due to shared insecurities. I don't think there was ever a time Dan Hyun looked at Kai and saw anything other than her slighted friend (which is very romanticized, but SHE is very romanticized), it was just about getting Kai to see that too.

She locked him down the best she could, yelled, cried, and beat the shit out of him, but ultimately, preserved his life. After the crucible had been fired and Thane (alive ofc) attended to, she sought to right things between her and Kai: whatever form that takes. Who knows if he'll ever be able to live comfortably in society again-- but at least here, he has the chance.

Random Tidbits:

Some notes! At his best, I like that Kai is portrayed as Loyal, Hard Working, Methodical, Clever, Tenacious, and Factual. I think sometimes he can be written off unfairly as wimpy or scared, but in truth, he's very sure of his abilities and able to calculate his chances extremely well. He's smarter than fandom gives him credit for.

He has an interesting conflict between arrogance based on title and humbleness. He knows he wants to be the best but he never airs it-- like when Rasa suggests that he wants to be the leader for Humanity but he grows quiet and says to just focus on where things are at right now.

His time as a soldier absolutely affected him in ways I think sharpened him to the killer he became. It instilled values that remained with him in Cerberus, such as when he berates Bates for abandoning his squad and calls him a traitor. Kai doesn't betray-- he's quite literally ride or die.

Also? The ninja sword is super dumb because Kai is Chinese and the swords and Phantom's themselves are designed to appear Japanese in aesthetic. Ninjas= Japanese, but China did have their own sect of Assassins which I believe gave birth to Wu Ching as a type of Martial Arts? Or was drawn from it hmm

To keep to accuracy, Kai would have trained more towards their martial art techniques which focuses on close combat and quick movements, as well as the use of dual blades called butterfly swords (You'd likely recognize them as a set of rogue daggers).

That's all for that meta! Phew. If anyone actually read to the end, hey wassup, hope you enjoyed, and take most of this with a grain of salt since it's my headcanons and background work :) Thank you again for reading!

[ddarker-dreams]

Do Well. Yan Dabi x Reader [COMM]

warnings: dabi is just a huge asshole, emotional manipulation, implied panic attack word count: 2.6k.

“Would you be a dear and wait here for a few? I need to take a call.” 

Dabi tilts his head alongside his words, glints of amusement present in his sapphire eyes. You’re certain the bastard picks up on every subconscious movement your body makes at the question, feeling like an open book before him. Despite your valiant efforts, human biology doesn’t operate in your personal interest. The challenging premonition causes your lips to curl down, fingers twitching on the wide straw of your milk tea. Pausing mid sip, you pull back, eyelashes fluttering. It’s the subservient behavior he wants to see, and considering the alternatives, you’re tripping over yourself to give it to him.

“... Of course. I should just stay here, right?” It’s more of a question posed for your sake than his, information vital to keep your head above water. Any movements on your behalf that even hint at disobedience could lead to dire consequences, ranging in severity. The worst of which is being confined back to his dingy apartment, with nothing but your thoughts to entertain yourself. All the faux smiles, carefully timed giggles, and strategic brushes of skin against skin would be for naught. You worked too hard for these trips outside for it to fall through your fingers like sand. 

Your captor makes a point of giving you a once over, lackadaisical visage a front for a predator in waiting. Condensation builds up against the plastic container in hand, making it tricky to tell if it’s your hands growing clammy or the drink. Time passes by at a snail’s pace, neither of you making the slightest of movements. People go about their lives in happy-go-lucky bliss, none the wiser to the potential harm that Dabi poses. Feeling finally returns to your body as he stands, seemingly content with the exchange.

He shoots you a coy look over his shoulder, a crooked smile spreading across his face. “Don’t miss me too much.” 

Dabi snickers at how your nose scrunches up, waving and slinking off with his phone in hand. You watch his retreating figure, still in disbelief over the unfolding events. This would be the first time since being kidnapped that you’ve been on your own in public. These special little outings were a privilege, one that you had worked diligently for. Consistently being on your best behavior, day after day, in the presence of someone you abhor from the depths of your soul is no easy task. A rush of adrenaline shoots through your body when he’s out of sight, eyes darting around in excitement.

This is a prime location to make an escape, the outdoors of a crowded mall in the afternoon. Everyone ranging from families, to couples, and employees on their lunch break are walking around. Lively chatter fills your ears, and you observe every possibility as if it’s your last. While it’s likely a futile dream, the rush your quickening pulse brings demands attention. Lithe fingers shake by your side, every ounce of your strength devoted to keeping yourself from unraveling at the mere concept of being free. He has to be watching. You know him well enough that he wouldn’t have offered the opportunity to escape on a silver platter, there’s got to be measures in place. 

There’s no way he isn’t keeping an eye on you now, making sure that you hold true to your word of behaving. 

Your shoulders slump at this cruel reality. The act of looking around excitedly would be too much of a give away, an observation he’d surely bring up later. An eruption of goosebumps dot your skin, even in the sweltering summer heat. Taking another sip of your drink, you abandon hope of escape, certain it’d be a mistake should you try it. Though he’s purposefully kept you in the dark on most of his relationships with the League of Villains, you can safely assume he’s interconnected with enough unsavory figures to locate you should it be necessary. In contrast to the sugary goodness that coats your tongue, a sour taste in your mouth develops at this blatant flaunting of power. What an asshole. 

To be so self-assured that even in the event of your escape, hunting you down and bringing you back into his loving arms is still within the realm of possibility. Your eye twitches at this realization, mentally flinging numerous curses towards him. He didn’t have to make it so obvious, rubbing salt on the theoretical wound of your pride. Too preoccupied with festering thoughts of resentment, you fail to notice a figure taking a seat next to you on the bench. 

“Is the drink not good or something?” A light, masculine voice asks from your left. Darting around immediately at the interruption of your venomous thoughts, you spot a man around your age. Sporting messy brunette hair and a casual get up of a tee with a pair of jeans, it tugs painfully on your heart to see someone living an uninhibited life as you used to. This envy mutates into horror, as you realize being caught speaking to a stranger is going to land you in boiling water. Dabi’s consciousness is a minefield in waiting, daring to blow at the slightest wrong movement. 

What do you do? It might leave a wrong impression should you not say anything. The current times are plagued by high tension.  Numerous League of Villain attacks have rendered the surrounding regions on constant alert, news anchors telling folks to be wary of anyone or anything suspicious. Weighing your options, you decide to dismiss the stranger in kind as fast as humanly possible. 

Just act natural, act natural… “W-why do you say that?” 

Shit. Your first conversation with someone other than Dabi in over half a year has left you thoroughly horrified, pupils no doubt dilated and voice meeker than a mouse squeak. The stutter has you wincing, your naive companion undoubtedly picking up on it. You want nothing more than to shoo him off, but in fear of drawing unwanted attention, attempt to suppress your frayed nerves. You’ve been through worse than a strained conversation and made it out relatively unscatched, but this feels like a different type of battle. 

“You just seemed to be making quite the upset face,” he chuckles, reminiscing on the thought. He must’ve been referring to the glowering thinking about Dabi brought out from you. “I swear I’m not a creep or anything. I was just waiting to pick up my little sister, and happened to catch you scowling.” 

“The name’s Ryota. And you?” 

Suppressing panic that threatens to drown you, you swallow thickly. “I’m uh, Hina. The drink is fine… I just have a lot on my mind.” 

The lie is seasoned with enough truths that you hope it isn’t too transparent. Giving away your actual name could hint back to missing person’s cases, the thought of which would greatly displease Dabi. Besides, if it had been as simple as going to the police, you would’ve done it by now. You’ve grown uncomfortably familiar with Dabi’s workings, killing off a few people or bribing them would be one of the least heinous things in his portfolio. You figure the best case scenario here is that this well meaning Ryota character leaves you be, or else dire consequences will come to fruition. 

“Good to know, Hina-san. My lil sis talks about boba often, but I’ve never gotten that into it. I figure since the store’s right here, I should surprise her with a drink. What would you recommend?” 

You can’t help but greedily soak in the normalcy an interaction like this brings with it. The irritation from being drawn into a conversation is replaced with pity, a stronger resolve to keep this bystander out of harm’s way blooming. There’s no time to be wasted on the warmth erupting in your chest, or on the first genuine smiles in months that’s settled on your lips. To see the best humanity has to offer, after being subjected to the worst, is a much needed breath of fresh air. While it may be greedy to fixate on these aspects, you find yourself wanting to savor the moment of being a regular person. 

Surely, Dabi would understand your logic. 

“It depends on her tastes. If she likes sweeter drinks, I’d recommend Thai milk tea. If you’re not sure, classic milk tea is always a safe bet.” You’re proud of how you’ve been able to pull yourself together, speaking like you used to. With this, he should be set to leave, or at least you want to believe this. Unfortunately for you, life is never so easy. He doesn’t seem interested in going anywhere anytime soon, crossing his legs and leaning slightly closer to you. Realizing your mistake of radiating friendliness, your muscles go taut. 

You need to do something about this before it’s too late. 

Ryota scratches his head, mulling over your advice. “I’ll keep all that in mind. I appreciate your insight.” 

“It feels nice to be able to chill and talk like this every now and then. If I’m being honest, I was somewhat against my sister coming out to hang with friends,” Ryota’s tone takes a turn for the somber, face looking crestfallen. “With all the chaos that’s been around, y’know. It feels like everyday I wake up to more of those League of Villain stories. It feels like it’ll just be a matter of time until something happens near here.” 

“I’m sorry that--” 

“Things sure are rough,” A voice that brings out every negative emotion possible speaks up from behind you, Dabi’s familiar figure slithering into sight. He takes a seat on the bench, close to your person, wrapping a tight arm around your shoulder. “I hate to interrupt, but I need to borrow her for a bit. You mind?” 

Neither of you were expecting the sudden interruption, Ryota trying to piece everything together. “Oh, uh, not at all.’

Everything hits you like a ton of bricks. From Dabi’s rich cologne that mixes in with the smell of ash, his hair brushing against the side of your face, to the possessiveness of his grip. He squeezes your shoulder, looking from Ryota to you. It takes a moment to register what he’s communicating, but you’re able to decipher the gesture. In a last ditch attempt to salvage this situation, you confirm Dabi’s statement before things get ugly. Nodding your head, you watch with bated breath as Ryota looks from Dabi to you. He gets up from his spot on the bench, awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets.

“It was nice talking to you.” 

Ryota heads off towards the mall doors, leaving you in the clutches of the devil incarnate. You feel how terribly warm Dabi is next to you, words wanting to spill out to justify the actions that led up to this moment. Before you get the opportunity to ramble out your thoughts, Dabi places a finger on your lips, looking at you with the same grin as always.

“Making some new friends, hm?” He inquires, drawing out the syllables. His finger goes south, lifting up your chin, and holding you close to his face. “Awe, babe. You look like you’re aboutta cry. Don’t give me that look.” 

You’re not sure if you should feel horrified at his sudden spike in talkativeness, or relieved over not having to speak your piece yet. The words wouldn’t be able to leave your mouth even if you wanted them to, a lump forming in your throat to coincide the dryness of your tongue. Dabi makes a point of emphasizing his engulfing height, having to tilt your head up to maintain eye contact. Not wanting to make a scene, you do everything within your power to still the tears that are threatening to spill out. There’s no visible signs of wrath, not that you can pick up on. He watches with great interest as you calm yourself, releasing the grip on your face and leaning back into the bench. 

When you appear sufficiently soothed, he speaks up once more, voice grating your ears. “So tell me, doll. What was all that about? I knew you’d be hurting for company in my absence, but I didn’t think you’d be so bold as to speak to someone else.” 

“I… I was approached, and… I swear, nothing happened. He just-- just wanted to know about a drink for his sister, and--” 

Dabi gently flicks your forehead, unable to stifle his cackling any longer. “I’m just messin’ with ya. I saw everything.” 

It doesn’t settle in immediately, the hypothetical cogs and gears of your head turning in slow motion. Your heart is pounding so violently that you hear it in your ears, your face erupting into a bright red. Humiliation, indignation, and finally, loathing take turns dominating your mind. He’s always had the best of times playing with you at your own expense, poking and prodding to see what reactions he can get. There’s a knee jerk reaction to want to slap him, anything to let out these overflowing feelings. Knowing that getting bothered is what he finds the most pleasure in, you’re further motivated to gain control over yourself. 

A deep breath. Inhale, exhale. You continue repeating these steps, biting your tongue to the point it stings. Dabi rests his head on his fist, watching you calm yourself down through lidded eyes. You really do get yourself worked up so easily, it’s endearing. He wants to pinch your cheeks and tease you more, but is feeling generous enough to give you this time to gather yourself. There’ll be plenty of time to play with you later, occupying himself with this cute sight placates him for the time being. When you finally reopen your eyes, you’re met with the deplorable sight of Dabi’s crooked grin. 

“Can we just… go home? Please?” You hate how weak your voice sounds. You hate everything about this situation, about the life that you’ve been forced into living. How you have to adapt to unspoken rules, subjected to twists and turns that never let you lower your guard. Most of all, you hate the person who has done this to you. His touch, his scent, his voice, all of it. You want nothing more than to scream at him at the top of your lengths, ripping that satisfied looking off his flesh and ridding yourself of this turmoil once and for all.

“Hm? Already? I thought you were hoping to get some dinner out tonight.” Dabi keeps up an air of nonchalance, likely wanting to hear you repeat yourself. Not willing to give in outright, you instead bunch up the fabric of his jacket with your hand. 

“Dabi…” 

It’s a low plea. You know you’ve gotten your point across ages ago, but he’s deriving too much pleasure from seeing how you squirm. The painful utterance serves you well, earning the slightest bit of reprieve as he gets up. On shaky legs, you follow after him, head downcast. Fixating on the tops of your shoes, you wonder if distracting yourself might do anything to ease your tormented soul. The events of the day have left you thoroughly exhausting, and nothing sounds better to you than sleeping for as long as he’ll allow you.

“Alright, alright. Let’s head on back,” he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. No longer having strength to muster up in retaliation, you let him do as he pleases, still fighting down sniffles. “Don’t bother your pretty little head about this.” 

You don’t bother honoring him with a reaction. 

Dabi takes a final glance over his shoulder, spotting the pesky man from before, who is still waiting against a wall. He takes a mental picture of the notable features, lips settling into a deep frown. How troublesome. Before you notice anything, he picks up his pace, continuing the walk back to his apartment. Ideas and resentment swirl within his mind like a tornado, pent up frustration begging to be released. 

All in due time, he thinks.

[a-blue-secret]

I Would Have Loved You

g: angst, non-idol universe, this is kinda sad (as in like '😭' sad but i don't think it's that bad so idk)

pairing: taegyu

wc: 1465

warnings: heavily referenced suicide

an: this was basically me trying to remember how to write angst..so it's kinda sad. just a lil bit. not a lot, i don't think....

summary: taking a deep breath, taehyun returned his gaze to the sky, watching the clouds drift peacefully, unaware of the struggles and hardships of human life. soon he, too, would no longer have to deal with those struggles. just one more step. and then i can be happy. right?

Taehyun looked at his phone, sighing. No one was replying to him, again. His messages had been delivered, and some of them had even been read, but no one replied. But Taehyun didn't really care anymore. In fact, it just made him more determined.

Taehyun unlocked his phone, staring at his wallpaper. It was an image of the sea, white-tipped waves crashing against jagged rocks. Much like the waves below him right at that moment. He stared at the image for a long moment, before locking his phone again. And with one quick, clean flick of his wrist, his phone went plummeting down into the frothy sea below.

He peered down as it fell, in an almost detached, unemotional way. The phone bounced off the parts of the cliff that jutted out, cracked pieces of plastic occasionally flying off. His facial expression didn't change, watching blankly as it disappeared into the depths of the sea. That phone didn't really matter to him anymore. What was the point of a communication device if no one communicated with you?

Taking a deep breath, Taehyun returned his gaze to the sky, watching the clouds drift peacefully, unaware of the struggles and hardships of human life. Soon he, too, would no longer have to deal with those struggles.

Just one more step. And then I can be happy. Right?

Taehyun bit his lip, hesitating. Was he sure he wanted to do this?

But then his face darkened. He had nothing left he wanted to keep, anyway. He wasn't going to be leaving anything behind. It didn't matter whether he was in the world or not. So why should he stay?

With that final thought, he steeled his nerves. One foot shuffled forward. Then the other. And soon, he was teetering on the edge of the cliff, small pieces of rubble tumbling down before being swallowed by the waves below. One wrong gust of breeze and he'd fall right over. He raised his eyes to look at the horizon, where the bright blue sky met the dark blue sea. The sun sparkled invitingly over the waves, creating small, white stars in between the crests. It was a beautiful sight. A small smile tugged at his lips. At least his death would be made by such an extraordinary being like the sea. With the small smile on his face, Taehyun leaned forward.

And jumped.

In that millisecond he was airborne, he heard a voice yelling behind him, and turned his head.

"No, stop! Don't do it!"

But by the time he registered what the words were, he was no longer on the cliff. He was falling, falling, falling– already plunging down to the waves below. Taehyun watched as a hand shoved itself over the edge, as if telling him to grasp it.

Down, down, down. The salt stung his skin as he fell, the hand still stretched out in his direction. But Taehyun didn't take it. There was no point, anyway. He was too far away and plus, he didn't want to live anymore. He had no reason to live anymore. He saw no point in doing something that he no longer had a reason to do.

Besides, he was too far. Even if he wanted to, it would be too late. There was no changing his mind now.

So Taehyun just watched the hand retreat, replaced by the scared, panicked face of a boy. As he fell further and further, hair whipping around his face, he gave the boy a smile, trying to assure him that it was alright. That this was what he wanted. And he was happy with his decision.

Taehyun kept eye contact with the boy, the soft smile still on his face all the way down as he fell, until he was enveloped by the cold saltiness of the water and he couldn't see the boy anymore. As he sunk down into the cold depths, he thought briefly about the boy, who seemed so desperate to keep him alive. It was strange: he didn't know the boy, nor did the boy know him. He'd have no reason to care about Taehyun.

But still, Taehyun's was firm on his choice. It wasn't like the boy was going to miss him, anyway. This was just one fleeting moment in the boy's life. But for Taehyun? This was the end. This was his end, and he was content. With that final thought, he closed his eyes.

And he didn't open them again.

｡･:*:･‧･₊✜˚.

Beomgyu didn't know him. He didn't know who Taehyun was, since he had just been visiting in town for the weekend. He didn't know anything about him, and yet his heart wanted to cry for the boy.

He'd seen him, standing on the edge of the cliff. The wind had been messing his hair but he didn't even seem to notice. Beomgyu had thought it strange, how close he was standing to the edge, and didn't realise what the boy was about to do until the last second.

With wide, panicked eyes, Beomgyu had bounded forward, arm outstretched, mouth open in a desperate scream.

"No, stop! Don't do it!"

The boy turned around, and Beomgyu thought that he'd saved him. Only to realise that the boy was already falling, and had already jumped by the time Beomgyu had cried out.

Out of desperation, Beomgyu thrust his hand out over the edge, hoping that somehow, the boy was close enough to grab his hand. But when he was only met with cool wind, Beomgyu leaned his head over, and saw the boy already falling, too far away for him to ever be able to reach.

Tears were now beginning to build in Beomgyu's eyes. It was strange: he'd never met the boy in his life and yet his heart ached, as if some part of him was dying with the boy. He didn't know the boy, but the fact that someone hated their life so badly that they wanted to end it hurt him so much. The boy, however, didn't seem to relate to Beomgyu's pain, giving him a relieved smile. This just made Beomgyu feel even sadder. The boy was happy with his choice. He found happiness in his own death.

Beomgyu watched, powerless, as the boy plunged down before being swallowed by the dark waves. Tears were falling down his cheeks. The boy had looked so serene and peaceful it was heartbreaking to see.

He continued to stare down at the ocean, long before the boy had disappeared. Beomgyu didn't bother to wipe his cheeks, staring intently at the frothy blue sea. He didn't know the boy's name, but it felt like if he had, he would have cherished him forever. Is that what soulmates felt like? Even though they hadn't met each other before, they felt that inexplainable pull towards each other.

Beomgyu felt that now, looking down at the waves in which the boy had disappeared. He felt a curious sense of loss, as if he'd watched some part of his own soul die with the boy.

"I would have loved you," Beomgyu whispered. "If you'd just waited a little longer, then I'm sure I would have loved you. I would have loved you hard enough to make you want to stay." Another tear fell. "I know I would have loved you. Even though I didn't know you. I'm sure I would have. Tell me: would you have let me?"

But Taehyun was too far gone to reply. The cliff was silent, save for the crashing of waves against the rocks below, and the relentless wind whipping up the sand around him.

Beomgyu stayed there, staring over the edge of the cliff as if, if he stared long and hard enough, Taehyun might come back.

When finally, the sun dipped below the horizon and was replaced by the quiet silver moon, Beomgyu got to his feet, brushing his knees. With one last look over the cliff, he reluctantly walked away.

If Taehyun had hesitated for even one more second, he could have met Beomgyu, who would have saved him and loved him so much that he'd never attempt to jump again. If Beomgyu had noticed what Taehyun was about to do just a fraction of a second earlier, Taehyun would have grabbed Beomgyu's hand and not have ever let it go.

But unfortunately, they missed each other by a sliver of a moment. By a thin thread of time, they missed that opportunity to be in each other's lives. And so, they just brushed past each other's lifetimes, neither of them knowing each other for more than a few seconds.

But the memory of each other was the last thing both of them remembered before they died.

[greylunar]

PLEASE do in depth analyses of all of the houses for your quiz I was enraptured reading the gryffindor one and I didn’t even get gryffindor

JUST FOR YOU ANON, I am going to compile the sort of Final Breakdown of every house, in my opinion, that you get at the end of the quiz now. Theres more in-depth analysis of specific questions under each house’s tag on my blog, and you can feel free to ask more specifics of course bUT here is the masterpost of that c:

A Hufflepuff is, unlike a Ravenclaw or a Gryffindor, an internal house. I know what you must be thinking, “how can you be the house of loyalty if you’re an internal house?” Puffs have a small network, Their People, maybe friends, maybe family, maybe friends who are family, maybe an assortment of small pets or animated characters. While Slytherins also have Their People, they have resources and associates to draw from when their bored, whereas the term associates exhausts a Hufflepuff. Spending time with people they don’t love doesn’t ever sit quite right, although they will often do it in an attempt to make folks happy. Hufflepuffs yes, are a house of kindness and of love, but unlike Gryffindors when it comes down to it they don’t have to go out of their way for kindness and love. Gryffindors will seek out situations in which they can do good. Hufflepuffs good is smaller (not lesser) in which they will do as much good as they can for the people directly in their line of sight, but when granted with the great expanse of the world it is easy for them to shrink in on themselves and not be able to cope. That said, they have so much love to give out, and will often want all their love in one place, slightly selfish but mostly excited collectors of people. If your version of the ideal future is a vague image of all the people you love in your house for [insert holiday] that is a very Hufflepuff sentiment. Hufflepuffs, like Gryffindors, are inherent/intrinsic worth folks. Hufflepuffs know who they are, or at least how they define themselves. Their moral code may not be their local government’s law (and actually very often isn’t), but it does exist and is rigid, and puffs won’t go against it unless incredibly pressed. This is a point of contention with Slytherins and Ravenclaws, and even Gryffindors who feel like they have to perform/validate their identity and choices through others. Hufflepuffs are themselves, and no one else, completely and quietly. They love their People. They want to build a home for them. That isn’t to say that puffs are necessarily gentle pushovers. A huge component of Punk and Anti-fascists align themselves with Puffs because they are So themselves and So invested in the safety and well-being of their people and community. Like slytherins, hufflepuffs often know/feel they’re weird, and tend to relish in finding people as absurd and lovely as they are. They will forgive people, possibly too much. But quietly, they will shift the little orbit of the world around themselves to be a little kinder, a little gentler, for them and the people they love. Be kind to yourself. You do not have to be any bigger than you are.

Slytherins are linked to identity, changing themselves to meet their needs and the wants of the world around them. They have specific people that are Theirs, and their circle of Actual Trust may be rather small, even if their friend/associates/resources group is a wide network. Slytherins are tied to wanting, craving, and not necessarily in a bad way or in a way that’s “ambition”. Slytherins are a house made up of people who want something or someone or some goal desperately or are made up of a myriad of little wants, but also struggle with the idea of worth and whether or not they have done enough to deserve the things they want. Sometimes, these wants are secret. Slytherins are often caught up in this wanting and this worth, and cannot see that they are already loved, completely and wholly, for who they are. When you care for someone you care for them with all of you, you are inherently a protective house like hufflepuffs for those that you care about most, and for all your wanting so so so many of you are beautiful creators (the worlds and story ideas slytherins have just roaming around in their brains?? amazing!). My advice to slytherins, if I can give some without being asked hahaha oops, is to recognize that for all the shapeshifting of the self you do, you can be exactly who you want to be, if you just give yourself permission. Who would you be in a dark room without any mirrors? How would you dance? How would you dress, for just yourself? Of course, that doesn’t mean you have to change your life tomorrow. It just means, sometimes, starting in little ways, take back a little bit of ground from the world. “This part is me. This part is mine. You aren’t allowed to have it.” It can be quiet. But you are worth so much, and you are yours. You are just as much of a person as anyone else, and have already earned love, because you never had to earn it in the first place.

Gryffindors believe in innate worth, innate characteristics, sort of your personality is that way because That Is Who You Are. Similar to hufflepuffs in this way, anti-slytherin experience haha. Gryffindors, unlike Hufflepuffs, are an external versus internal change maker. Because of this, they are often more broadly idealistic than hufflepuffs (think range, although they both hold their core values very deeply, hufflepuffs are on a smaller more condensed scale whereas gryffs will spread themselves thinner. Puffs do not have to change the world, rather they create a Home in which to put their world into, whereas a lot of Gryffindors struggle with feeling that they aren’t doing Enough, not Enough good, not Enough love. That the failures of the world are in part because they haven’t done enough to help personally). Gryffindors are very solid with their identity. While slytherins/ravenclaws will see their body/their reflection in a mirror, a scientific fact of life or something they wish they could/can change and shape, Gryffindors (with some exceptions for gender, trauma, and mental illness) tend to be confused that there are answers other than “I see myself in the mirror.” However, Gryffs can be performative, because while they see themselves, they need to be told that they are going in the right direction, they need to be loved, they need to help. Gryffindors will lose themselves a bit in an empty room, in isolation, moreso than hufflepuffs or ravenclaws. They create and change the world around them FOR the world around them, and so the world can look at them and say “okay, you did it, its okay now.” In this way, they are closest to slytherins, seeking validation, seeking a legacy, even though they may not even do it/realize its for themselves. They do good, or they try to, based on how they have defined it for themselves. They will care for you with all of them, if you earn it. They will hold you. But the voice in their head says “am I sure that this is what good looks like. Am I sure that this is enough.” From your friendly neighborhood Hufflepuff, sometimes doing what you need to take care and save yourself is the best thing for the world. Maybe cook something, have a lil dance party. You are an important part of the world. Start small, and love that part the most. You can add on from there c:

Ravenclaws shape the world around them, and create, in order to create a world that better suits themselves and their goals, rather than Slytherins who shape and create/recreate themselves to suit the world, meaning they are an external house, creating and impacting in the world around them rather than in themselves. Unlike Gryffindors, the other external house, Ravenclaws do not feel as much pressure to be seen in a sort of grand legacy or entirely shape the world around them. They give and seek knowledge and creation because, in a very basic sense, they feel like they need to. In a way I’ve said it “I could not write poetry for 30 years and that wouldn’t mean I’m not a poet. I am a poet. That does not change.” But Ravenclaws will get restless if they don’t create if they don’t learn. Their legacy doesn’t mean that the whole world will remember them forever. Its that they will create/make/do something that will matter to even one person enough that they will be remembered. A lot of Ravenclaws feel tied to their Ravenclaw identity because they don’t quite know who they’d be if they weren’t the ‘intelligent one’ if you will. But Ravenclaws sometimes forget that they create beauty every day, learn things new and small every day, without even meaning to. Ravenclaws believe identity is created/forged/remade constantly as information is gathered, and often try to seem neutral, scared of sharing an opinion unless they’ve thought it through completely and are certain they should stand by it. Ravenclaws are often searching, looking for something bigger than them, as almost to prove they are small in comparison. Sometimes the best thing a Ravenclaw can do is realize that all those wonderful books and poems and pieces of art that make you dream of a fantasy world were made in this world. This place, so full of love, that gave them to you in order for you to love it back. A lot of ‘gifted kids’ put themselves in Ravenclaw, without realizing that it was the rest of the world that put them in Ravenclaw, and not something that they chose. If that’s the case, maybe now is the time to ask yourself who is it you want to be? The self is a construct loves, and a uquiz doesn’t define you. You define you. You’re so good at creating Ravenclaw friends. Create you. You’re already magnificent. You’re already worth it. Now its time to look at yourself and give some love to that self, to ask it what it wants to be. You are, more than anything else, your greatest masterpiece.

[javisjeanjacket]

Moon Song (poe dameron x fem!reader)

A/N: I really went buck wild with this one i’m sorry to those with short attention spans. Phoebe Bridgers' new record, Punisher, came out a few days ago and it broke my heart just like I knew it would. Moon Song really got me so I had to write a fic about it. I put the lyrics of hers that I used in bold. 🌙🥺

“So I will wait for the next time you want me Like a dog with a bird at your door”

Genre: emo, sad boi hours 

Warnings: get ready for some intense pining, drinking / a lil bit of drunk poe, feeling like you don’t belong, straight up simping, cursing as well :)

Word count: 4178 oops

(If i used your gif, please let me know so it can add your tag!!)

-hai 

GIF by @captain-flint​

The Resistance hangar was a-buzz as X-Wings began to return to base from their latest mission. Resistance operatives scurried throughout the hangar, giddy to welcome the brave pilots back to base.

Trying to keep your expression light, your eyes casually scanned over the chaotic hangar for the black mop of Poe's hair or the whirring of BB-8 on the metal floor. Anxiety began to build inside you when you didn't see your friend's black and orange fighter emerge from the cloud of descending jets.

Determined to remain optimistic, you grabbed a sweat-drenched Wexley as he passed by you on the way to the hangar door. "Hey, Snap." You said, smiling tightly.

The bearded man turned to you with an accomplished grin. "Hey, Y/N! How goes it?"

"Have, uh, have you seen Poe? I can't find him." Your bottom lip snuck into your mouth.

"Uh, no. He was the one who ordered us to jump to light speed and come home, I figured he would be right behind us." Wexley's dark eyebrows furrowed and his gaze glided across the busy hangar.

"Cool, cool. Thanks." You said, refusing to allow worry to overtake you.

"I'm sure he's fine. At least he was the last time I saw him." The tall man shrugged and turned back towards a smiling Jess waiting for him in the hallway.

Your fingers began to intertwine themselves together and your heels pushed you to rock back and forth on your toes gently.

Long, drawn out moments passed without seeing the Yavinite pilot.

"Goddamnit." You cursed under your breath. Frustration began to build in your fingertips as your thoughts began to spiral.

'Is it weird that I'm still waiting for him? His squadron believes that he's fine, they're already on their way to the Mess Hall. Should I follow them? What if he's not fine and I'm the only one who notices? Would that even happen? He is the best pilot in the Resistance after all...'  Your mind ricocheted aimlessly between hypotheticals.

In a desperate attempt to save a bit of your dignity, you took quiet steps back towards the hallway outside of the hangar and let your eyes drift to your boots moving under you.

Turning the corner out of the hangar, your shoulder collided with another. Your eyes whipped up from their home on your feet and your mind pulled itself out of the reverie. Your gaze met that of Leia Organa's.

"Lieutenant Y/L/N," General Organa said tersely, a power simmering behind her stare.

Struggling to comprehend what level of treason you had just committed, you began to apologize, "General, I am so sorry. I wasn't paying-"

Softly, her withered hand found a home atop your shoulder. She smiled gently and rubbed a thumb across the tense line of your shoulder.

"You look sick, Y/N. Do you feel alright?" She asked, her head cocked to the side with concern.

"Oh, no, General. I'm just, uh-"

"He'll be here." Leia interrupted, a knowing smile spreading on her face.

Your mouth opened a bit in shock and embarrassment. 'Get yourself out of this moment.'  Your brain was throwing a tantrum inside you, pleading for you to just take it out and put in a drawer to rest.

"Who do you mean?" You scrunched your eyebrows in feign curiosity. You knew exactly who she was talking about, and she knew that you knew.

Putting your comfort before her own desire to tease you, the General ignored your question and continued with her previous train of thought. "We would have heard about it if he wasn't coming back. You would have felt it." She assured you. She smiled softly, moved her hand back down to her side, and walked past you towards the hangar bay.

You shifted your weight in frustration. The spasming in your heart pleaded with you to turn around and follow Leia back to the hangar. To ask her how she knew about you and Poe.

Did he tell her about you? Did he tell anyone about you? Your mind floated towards the muffled laughs and singing coming from the Mess Hall. You could steel yourself, build a fortress around your heart, and go to dinner and pretend like seeing Poe come home safely was of little interest to you.

Knocking you from your thoughts, an orange and white ball droid came barreling through the hallway, stopping to beep and boop in circles around you.

"BB-8!" You exclaimed. You kneeled down to be eye level with him. You scratched his sides happily. "Where is he, buddy?"

BB-8 rolled his eye in a 360 and beeped sarcastically as his head dome motioned towards the hangar.

You turned to look back towards the bustling hangar.

Poe was jumping out of his X-Wing. He wiggled his head out of his helmet and handed it off to the ship tech assisting him.

Your heart swelled with relief. You could feel the adrenaline of worry zipping through your arms and legs. Taking a deep breath, you took unsure steps towards the newly returned pilot.

Poe's suit had several burn marks across the chest and a piece of his sleeve clung to him by a thread. His angular face was covered in dirt and rubble collected in his thick hair.

Your steps began to quicken, seeing him so close to you now and imagining the pain of each of the new burns that he had been given so far away. Your heart flickered with desideratum at the thought of being able to take care of him. Of him trusting you to heal him. A twinge of pain shot across your chest and caught on a hook in your throat.

BB-8 rolled closely behind you as Poe's eyes finally fell upon you.

You smiled brightly, so easily overwhelmed by the pilot's attention.

A soft smile fell across Poe's face and he held out his arm towards you.

Finally reaching him, you pressed your face into the thick of his flight suit and wrapped your arms around his shoulder blades to rest your hands on the tops of his shoulders.

"Good to see you." You whispered. The words seemed to be stuck to the roof of your mouth, forcing you to overchew them on their way out.

Poe held you tight to his body, one hand gripping your neck and the other pressed against your back. His mouth sat buried in your hair, dangerously close to your skin. His breath sent ripples across your cheek as he replied, "You know I had to come back to see you."

You chuckled into the must of his burnt suit.

For this moment, things were as they should be. You had Poe in your grasp and he had you in his. He was safe and victorious and happy to see you.

So that it was too quick to mean too much, Poe pushed away from your rapturous touch.

Your heart burning in your throat, you smiled softly at him. A shaking breath coerced your chest into trembling. You let him go and realized that the two of you had suddenly become a sizable horde of Resistance fighters gathering around the returned pilot.

"Dameron!" Finn's voice boomed from across the room.

You both looked towards your friend's voice as pats on the back and the phrase, "Great job! You're a hell of a pilot!" echoed throughout the hub of people.

Finn pushed past you to gush about Poe to Poe.

"Buddy!" Poe exclaimed as Finn fell into his arms.

Without a chance to fight against it, you suddenly found yourself and the twittering BB unit standing on the outside of a collection of excited Rebels.

You sighed, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and looked down at the confused orange and white droid. "You tired?"

BB-8 twittered in a pattern that could be mistaken for a 'Hell yes' and without warning, the little droid began to roll towards Poe's quarters.

Taking one last look at the Captain, cracks began to splinter down your chest. So entrenched in the love and adoration of his admirers, his mind had wandered from you. You took a deep breath and turned to follow BB-8 back through the hanger, down the hall, and out of the main building to the Captain's quarters.

BB-8 made it to the door before you did and exclaimed happily when you typed in the code, allowing the door to slide open. The small droid zoomed quickly towards his charging pad tucked against a relatively empty bookcase.

This time, entering Poe's quarters felt like walking on eggshells. The memories of his bedsheets on your bare skin, your fingers curling around his bedframe in pleasure, and your clothes scattered across his floor pulled such emotion out of the depths. Your heart seemed to crawl up into itself thinking of how much you wanted to be with him. You wanted people to see you and wonder where Poe was. The mornings when you woke up next to him remained holy in your thoughts and haunted your days.

Beeping loudly in annoyance, BB-8 drew you into the present.

You looked towards him, embarrassed and guilty for forgetting about him.

The droid moved back and forth next to his charging pad, excited to finally get some rest.  

You snickered as you sat up the charging station for him. "Okay, buddy. You ready?" You asked as three blue squares appeared on the pad, ready to charge.

BB-8 whirred onto the metal plate. He twittered a small thank you and then powered down, forcing the charging bar on the plate below him to turn green.

You smiled at the lifeless droid and took a final look around Poe's room. Jackets and partner-less boots littered the floor of his quarters. A curled-up X-Wing manual sat on his nightstand beside a half-drunk cup of water and a broken ear communicator.

Trusting that Poe Dameron would stay true to his personality and want nothing more after a mission than a big meal and a drink, you locked his bedroom door behind you and headed to the Mess Hall, your boots clacking on the floor.

The Hall was sparse, only occupied by those still awake at this time of night and in need of a cup of coffee, as well as the celebrating Black Squadron.

Catching Jess's eye as you walked past the group of chatting fighter pilots, you flashed her a smile.

The warm woman smiled back at you and tapped the table top beside her. "Y/N! Come sit with us." She said.

You laughed and moved around the table to sit beside her.

Helmets and trays of food cluttered the table top under the lieu of conversation between the pilots.

"Man, that high side gun pass..." Wexley stated, shaking his head and shoving another bite into his mouth.

Kare laughed and leaned back in her seat. "Snap, I don't think that would have worked without Poe there to save your ass."

The squadron laughed softly and you pulled the meat of your lip in between your teeth.

Jess elbowed your side softly. "Why don't you get some food?"

You cheeks grew red and you said sheepishly, "Oh, yeah, food."

Standing from the table, you went to the serving line and waited patiently for the Resistance cook, Zeno, to make his appearance behind the line.

Zeno scurried out from behind a huge floating refrigerator, a crate of giant eggs in his arms, and caught a glimpse of you.

"Lieutenant Y/L/N! Uh, just one second, ma'am." The Bothan said anxiously.

You smiled. "Take your time, Zeno."

The man smiled graciously and put away the eggs, wiped beading sweat from his brow and then raked his hands down his spattered apron. Taking his place at the beginning of the line, he asked, "What would you like?"

Your eyes flitted over the tray of steaming Nuna legs, the rack of portion bread, and the assortment of fruit piled up at the end of the line.

"Uh, just a little of everything." You smirked.

Zeno nodded and began the task of fishing Nuna legs out of a pan with tongs. "I saw Finn run out of here with a bunch of other people earlier...the X-Wings make it back okay?"

You nodded heartily and put your hands in your pockets. "Yeah, I think they did."

"Good, good." The Bothan said. His eyebrow raised and his large eyes flicked up to yours momentarily.

A shiver of anxiety ran through you. 'Did Zeno know about you and Poe? How could he know? Would it matter if he knew?'  

You forced your mind to re-center itself by taking the full tray out of Zeno's hands.

"Thanks." You said, a touch of suspicion in your voice. Turning from the man, you had the inclination to run. To run from the Bothan's wandering eyes and the sly looks from Jess and the bubbling excitement of talking about Poe Dameron, the best pilot in the Resistance. Your lungs feeling rickety, you took your seat alongside Jess.

She smiled at you when you sat back down, but kept her attention on the conversation heating up between the other pilots.

"Y/N, does Poe snore?" Kare asked, pulling you into a foreign conversation. Her arm reached across Jess and her fingers extended towards you, throwing the group's attention to your blank face.

You blushed, "What do you mean?"

"When he's asleep, does he snore?" The pilot pressed again, a smirk plastered across her face.

"I-"

Suddenly, a crowd of people burst through the doors of the Mess Hall. The glow of conversation and laughter cast light across the relatively empty dining room.

Finn's head bobbed up and down in the center of it all, his pride for his friends seemingly emitting from his body.

You let out a breath of relief and caught a glimpse of Poe as he was pulled into the Mess Hall by Finn's determined arm.

Poe was laughing and his eyes were shining, even from here you could see them. His eyes were focused on returning high fives and patting backs. He said something unintelligible to the crowd of adorers and they seemed to disperse a bit. Space was created around him and you could see his chest let out a deep breath. His eyes scanned the hall and landed on your face.

You beamed at him, flecks of passion twinkling on your face.

He smiled softly and then waved to his squad. He exclaimed and the pilots around you shouted back in celebration.

Poe was still in his burnt suit, not being able to change out of it yet because of his admirers. He walked quickly towards your table, Finn jogging along loyally. Poe reached out to give Wexley a handshake and Snap wiped his hands on a napkin before returning the gesture.

Finn swung into the seat on your other side, greeting you somewhat gruffly, "Y/N, hey."

"Hey, have you heard from Rey-" You asked, thankful for something to divert your attention from Kare's line of questioning moments before.

Finn answered without diverting his attention from Poe, "No, I haven't heard from her. Poe, what happened next?"

The smiling Captain took a seat next to Wexley and pulled off his tattered gloves. "So, we didn't know what had happened to Blue Squadron, hadn't heard from them at all. We got TIEs coming at us from all directions. So, I-" Poe paused mid-story. "Wait, where's BB-8?"

Your heart began to thump against your dry throat. Unsure of what to say, you shoved a piece of Nuna leg in your mouth.

The pilots of his squad fell silent, looking to the others with raised eyebrows.

Chewing your food aggressively, you tried to work out what, if anything, you could say that would let Poe know his droid was already asleep in his room, but that would still keep the secret of your relationship hidden from his co-workers.  

Kare broke the tension, "Poe, do you snore?"

"What?" Poe exclaimed, irritated that Kare had brushed away his concern for his friend in such a cavalier move.

"We have a bet going and we need to know. Y/N wouldn't tell us." Kare's dark eyes jumped to meet yours.

Finn jumped back from you in confusion.

You swallowed your bite of meat and said defiantly, "I didn't tell you because I don't know."

Poe's gaze met yours. The crinkles around his eyes lay flat and the stars in his eyes seemed to burn a touch too hot. He stood from his seat, "No, Kare, I don't snore. I gotta find my droid."

That was a lie, he snored like a rocket launching.

"I think I saw him rolling towards your quarters, Poe." You offered, keeping your tone casual.

The Captain sent you a cautious glare and retreated back to his seat. "He must have been tired." Poe shrugged, his shoulders shaking off any hint that the two of you were somehow connected.

The rest of his squadron allowed the momentary awkwardness to wash over them.

Snap added a period to the end of the sentence. "Drinks?" He asked.

The pilots around you exclaimed and you nodded yes, your mouth full of portion bread.

The burly man stood from his seat and went back to the serving line to gather the liquor.

Finn snuck a really crunchy piece of fried Nuna skin from your tray and you smirked at him.

Instinctively, your eyes looked to the exhausted Poe Dameron. His fingers rubbed up and down his helmet and the rain of melancholy seemed to cloud his face.

Knowing there was no one else on Base who could see Poe as clearly as you did sat like a curse upon your head. Knowing how fully you would collapse into him almost made you glad he wouldn't let you. Knowing that you could take his pain away, but that he wouldn't let you, gave you the feeling of floating, or falling maybe.

Snap returned with the overflowing metal steins of beer, the contents sloshing over the sides as he sat them on the table in front of him.

Jess slid one to you and you gratefully took a full swig. The liquid burned the back of your throat and tickled the nerves in your teeth.

~~~~

"Can I walk you home?" Poe slurred, his finger drawing abstract designs on your cheek.

You blushed, whether from the alcohol or the pilot, you were too happy to tell. You nodded softly. The tops of your teeth pressed into your bottom lip and your hand wandered underneath Poe's flight suit to graze his bare chest.

The man's body was slumped into his chair beside the empty Mess Hall table. All the harsh lines and scattered regimentation of his job had faded. Poe beamed at you and kissed the inside of your wrist. His smile lines seemed to fill up his face and the strength of his umber eyes seemed to tear at the cracks in your chest.

"Lesss go." The Captain slurred. His strong hand gripped your wrist and pulled you towards the door of the dining hall.

Thinking that he would miss them, you snatched his flight gloves from where they had fallen on the floor of the hall after Snap and Poe had started a game of Sabacc.

Poe pulled you through the door of the Hall and, after looking both ways down the long deserted hallway, threw an arm around your waist. He buried his face in the nape of your neck and took in a long breath.

The feeling of him so close to you punctured your sweet bubble of drunkenness. You wrapped an arm around his back and you walked like this through the sleeping Resistance base.

Poe found it difficult to move without dragging his feet and with every misstep, more of his weight fell upon you.

Finally, the both of you arrived in front of his bedroom door.

"Y/N," Poe slurred, his face still nesting in your neck.

"Hmm?" You responded. You ran a hand lightly through his mess of curls.

"I gotta tell you something." He said quietly.

"What is it?" The beating of your heart seemed to emit from your palms.

"Can I kiss you?" His face moved away from your neck now, but his grip stayed firm around your side.

You turned to him and smiled.

Of course he could kiss you. Of course he could call you in the middle of the night to come over and just lay with him. Of course he could keep you a secret as long as he needed to. Of course, he could.

A fracture of pain struck a chord in your heart as you wrapped your arms around the drunken pilot's neck. "Of course." You whispered, afraid that if you said it any louder he would be able to hear what you wanted to say.

Poe smiled deviously and moved your neck so that he could reach your lips easier. His mouth was kind to yours, pulling gently and tugging with passion.

Your body rested like water in his hands. Making sure to note every texture, you let your fingers wander to the bottoms of his thick curls. Pulling and twisting around them.

Poe's hands gripped your sides and with one last squeeze, he pulled away from you. He smiled softly at you and put in his bedroom door passcode. The door slid open to reveal a darkened bedroom and a sleeping BB-8.

You took in a shaking breath, jealous of the moon light shining thorough his windows. What an honor to spend your life shining across Poe's skin.

For a moment, you waited to hear those words. You waited for him to tell you he wanted you. But, only silence permeated the dark hallway.

"See you tomorrow, Dameron." You conceded, turning on your heel back towards your barracks. Determined to make it to your bed before you started crying.

"I know what you're doing, Y/N." He accused loudly, soberness seeming to return to him in bits and pieces.

You could feel the rush of blood rising in your cheeks. "What am I doing?"

"The answer is still no." He said with an authoritative tone, his head bent down to look out from his eyebrows at you.

You swallowed the ball of fire in your throat. "I'm just making sure you got home safe."

Poe smirked and started to untie his boots already. "You think that doing this stuff will change things," He paused to chuck a grimy boot through his bedroom door. "But it won't. There's things that neither of us can change." He began to untie the other one.

"Well..." You started. The stark reality and the casual way in which he stated it shoved a stake down the canyons in your heart. "I just..want to be here for the next time you want me." Quivering tears threatened to draw trails down your cheeks.

Poe stood up straight and shifted his weight. He placed hands on his hips and the movement reminded you of him hunched around the holopads in the command center. "Y/N, you knew what this would be when we started. You know the rules. There's nothing you can do or say that will change things. I'm not the bad guy here."

You nodded and blinked back emotion. "I know you're not. I just..."

A tug of war began in your mind as you contemplated what you wanted to say and what you should say. The trembling in your chest compelled you and without more than a whisper of forethought you said, "I feel lonely when you're gone and I feel lonely when you're here. I am jealous of your squadron because they get to see you every day and hear your voice for most of their day and...I don't know. I just..."

You cut yourself short and your gaze fell to your boots. The alcohol still in your system threw everything spinning. Taking brazen steps back to Poe, you grabbed one of his hands in yours.

"If I could give you every moon in every single system, I would. I'm sorry if that's hard to hear, but it's how I feel. You're worth it to me, Poe. Whatever we would have to do to be together, you would be worth it to me." Your voice shook and drifted through the hallway in snaggled shards.

Poe's eyes were wide and borrowing into yours. His strong hands turned limp in your grasp.

Desperately, you searched his face for a response. The only thing to be found there was a blank look and deep, mahogany colored eyes combing over your face.

Gritting your teeth, you pulled his flying gloves from your back pocket and placed them in his hands.

"You'll need these." You ended, turning from him and walking as steady as you could back towards your bedroom. Every step carving out more and more of a rift between the two of you.

The promise that the same moon kissing Poe's skin would be kissing yours, gave you just enough comfort to persuade you to fall asleep.

What did you think? I really hope you enjoyed reading my work. Just your liking / re-blogging it means a lot. If you have a moment, I would love to hear your thoughts! Tell me what you think via my ask box or a comment always warms my heart!! Thank you again for reading!

Need more reading material? You can visit my Masterlist for more Poe Dameron content, as well as my other works.

Want to be kept in the loop? Let me know so I can put your handle in my taglist form. Right now, I’m writing for Poe Dameron and Din Djarin, but I have plans to expand my SW character list, and eventually add in my favorites from the MCU as well.

Thanks again for reading! Sending love! -hai

[clumsyclifford]

a future of stories, kiss you good mornings

here’s a cute little malum fic in honor of michael’s 25th birthday !! i am sadly not the editing or giffing type and my only real creative outlet is writing so i am forced to show my love for mr clifford by pretending he’s in love with his best friend because you know. that’s how we roll

big shoutout to @blackbutterfliescal and @devilatmydoor for rallying the troops so to speak lol and getting us all to celebrate michael’s birthday you guys are truly both wonderful and everyone in this lil community is so wonderful wow i love you all !!!!! yes i’ve been listening to a very cute love song on a loop for a little bit so maybe i’m being exceedingly sappy but that’s life. anyway enough from me

this is fluffy, fluffy fluff. it MIGHT be the fluffiest fluff i’ve ever written. no tws (i think) just fluff !!! something about malum just brings out all the fluff. if i say fluff one more time i might lose my mind so why don’t we all just dive into the fic okay cool

title from protocol by the vamps (don’t use the song as a guide for the tone of the fic adflkgjfhklmj) 

read it here on ao3

Waking up alone threatens to make this birthday pretty bad.

Hopefully it means Calum is making breakfast. Michael would kill for waffles. He blindly sweeps an arm over Calum’s side of the bed, but it’s cold. Michael snuggles deeper into his pillows, keeping his eyes shut for another minute in case he falls back asleep. He’d actually bet anything Calum is making him breakfast right now, because that’s Calum’s go-to birthday move, so Calum will come get him when it’s ready.

Time melts into nothing, and Michael’s not sure if he does drift off again or just float on the edges of consciousness, but after some undetermined stretch a quiet voice whispers, “Mikey.”

“Hm,” Michael grunts. 

Calum crawls into bed and presses a kiss to Michael’s cheek (the one not currently flattened against the pillow). “Happy birthday, babe.”

“Would be happier if I was asleep.”

Calum chuckles lightly and wraps Michael up in his arms. His embrace is warm and familiar, and much cozier than the pillows, so Michael burrows deeper into Calum’s chest. “Would it be happier if you had waffles and ice cream for breakfast?”

Michael perks up. “Ice cream?”

“It’s your birthday,” Calum says, a grin in his voice. “Of course we’re having ice cream for breakfast.”

“You’re a terrible influence,” Michael says, tempted by the notion of ice cream for breakfast. “It’s hot.”

Calum laughs outright. “Get up or the waffles will get cold.”

“How’d you know I wanted waffles?” Michael asks, brushing a kiss over Calum’s collarbone before pulling away to look at him. He’s smiling like he knows something Michael doesn’t, and he’s as charmingly adorable as he’s been every day since they met, but Michael feels a little extra in love today. Maybe it has to do with getting older. He’s officially closer to thirty than twenty now. His age can be rounded up. That’s a little bit insane.

“We’ve been together seven years, Michael,” Calum says, rolling his eyes. “You think I don’t know your favorite breakfast food?”

Michael smiles, melty and warm inside. “Love you,” he says.

Calum kisses him. “Love you too. Now get up. Waffles.”

—

Calum is suspiciously happy. Michael points this out through a mouthful of ice cream-soaked waffle, and Calum just cocks his head. The smile doesn’t waver. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re, like, dancing,” Michael says. He swallows his food. “There’s no music and you’re dancing.”

“So you’ve never danced without music?” Calum raises his eyebrows.

“I’m just saying, it’s suspicious,” Michael says, shrugging. He leans forward on his elbow, resting his face on his palm. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“So what do you want to do today?” Calum prompts, still swaying back and forth a bit. Michael wonders if he even realizes he’s doing it; it’s like there’s a song playing that only Calum can hear. Something’s making him light on his feet.

Michael wishes he knew what it was, so he could make it happen every day. Seeing Calum in such high spirits is doing wonders for Michael’s disposition. It’s fun to be in love, Michael muses, knowing that someone else’s mood can be just as instrumental in setting the tone of the day as Michael’s own. If Calum’s energy is anything to go by, today is shaping up to be incredible.

“Nothing,” Michael says honestly. He’s been gazing at Calum for a minute and answers a little late, but Calum has just been letting him. “Just want to relax.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Calum says, smiling airily. Michael makes a noise of protest, but he can’t fight the silly grin.

“If you knew, then why’d you even ask?”

“I had to make sure!”

“Yes, Calum, you know me better than anyone else on the planet,” Michael says wryly. “Are you satisfied?”

Calum’s smile grows. “I got you a birthday present.”

“I should hope you did.”

“It’s a bit non-traditional, though,” Calum continues. “As birthday presents go.”

Like there are traditional birthday presents? Michael wrinkles his nose in confusion. “Okay? Are you going to give it to me?”

Calum hesitates. “Do you want it now, or later?”

“Is this a weird euphemism? Are you just asking if I want to sleep with you?”

“No!” Calum snickers. “No, it’s not. It’s a real thing. I…I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” Michael promises. “I mean, you knew what I wanted for breakfast and what I wanted to do for my birthday, so I can’t imagine you got me a birthday present I’d hate.”

“Yeah, this one’s a bit of a commitment, though,” Calum says. “Like, the thing is the present, but it’s also not.”

“What about instead of being really cryptic, you just give it to me?” Michael suggests. He has total confidence in Calum. If the present is something Michael doesn’t like, Michael will eat his shirt.

“So you want it now?” Calum says. “Don’t want to finish your waffles first?”

“Well, you’re kind of building the suspense here, love,” Michael says, grinning and shaking his head. “Just give it to me when you want to give it to me.”

“No, I mean. Okay. I have to go and get it.” Calum shifts, then says, “Finish your breakfast and I’ll go get your present and then I’ll give it to you, okay?”

“Okay,” Michael says, amused. Calum sidles past him, dropping a kiss to his temple as he goes, and leaves. Michael chuckles to himself and takes the last few bites of his waffles — which are delicious, of course, fluffy and warm and not too limp or too crunchy. Calum’s only mastered a few culinary arts, but one of them is breakfast. They work well like that; Calum knows how to make Michael’s favorite category of food.

While Calum is retrieving the enigmatic birthday gift, Michael turns his phone over on the tabletop and finally starts reading through the myriad messages previewed on the lock screen. Luke and Ashton had both texted at midnight exactly, so there’s nothing new from them this morning, but basically everyone else Michael has ever met is wishing him a happy birthday on every single social media platform he has. Just then he hears Calum’s footsteps behind him, and he flips his phone facedown on the table again. 

He can get to the birthday messages later. He will. But they’re not going anywhere, and Michael wants to spend this time with his boyfriend, his best friend, his favorite person.

Also, he’s dying of curiosity about the birthday present.

“You done?” Calum asks, gliding back into the room with grace. Michael eyes him; he’s hiding something behind his back but it must be small, because Michael can’t see it. Obligingly, he lays his fork and knife across the plate and pushes it away from him.

“I’m done,” he confirms. “Present time?”

Calum rocks back and forth on his feet. “Okay. But you need to be standing for it or else the effect is ruined.”

“The effect of the birthday present?” Michael says drily, but he doesn’t argue, just gets to his feet, mirroring Calum’s stance by linking his hands together behind his back and giving Calum a cheeky smile. “How’s this?”

Calum shuffles backwards a bit until there’s just about one arm’s length between them. “Perfect. You’re perfect.”

He inhales deeply, exhales, and then falls to one knee, holding out in front of him what he’s been concealing behind his back: an engagement ring.

Michael’s hands fly to his mouth. 

“Oh,” he breathes into his palms. “Calum.”

“Let me talk first,” Calum says, smiling up at Michael, and then he laughs a bit. “I don’t know if you can tell that I’m really fucking nervous. I’ve tried to be really cool about it, because I can’t see why you’d say no, but still — I’m scared as fuck. But I’m going to let you save your answer until I’m done talking so that even if you say no you still get an ego boost.” Michael laughs shakily. Tears glaze over his eyes, and as he blinks them away one slides down his face.

Calum pulls the ring towards him, still gazing up at Michael. “So…where do I start, Michael Clifford? My best friend of at least ten years, my boyfriend for the last seven, my favorite person to fall asleep next to, the only person I’d ever learn to cook for. I mean, I never really learned, but I would. I will.”

“You don’t have to,” Michael manages, somehow laughing even though he’s definitely also crying.

Calum giggles, and it’s obvious he’s also trying not to cry. “Let me finish, I’m trying to propose!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

“Anyway, I just…I just love you so much, Michael.” When Michael blinks again, a vain attempt to clear his blurring vision, their eyes meet, and Calum’s words have never been more obvious from the expression on his face. “I…before us, I thought that I got it. Like, I thought I knew what it meant to be in love. But —” He shakes his head. “I so, so didn’t. I thought that sometimes love hurt, but with you it never does. Seven years, Michael, and it’s never hurt to be in love with you. You are one of the — no, fuck it. You are the smartest, sweetest, sexiest,” — Michael breaks out with another laugh — “most driven and charismatic person I’ve ever met, and you shine even when you think you don’t, but especially when you do. I swear there’s nothing I love more than to see you onstage. It’s like watching a fireworks display. Fuck, that’s really cliché. Shit, I thought I’d get through this before I started crying.” He wipes his face with the back of his hand, cutting off a stray tear as it slips down his cheek. “That’s probably a good sign I should wrap it up, then. So, uh, Michael Gordon Clifford with the worst middle name in the history of ever, will you marry me?”

“Yes, of course I will,” Michael says breathlessly, holding out a hand to help Calum up. “Of course I’ll marry you, I fucking love you.”

Calum’s smile is so broad it almost makes his eyes disappear completely. “Thank God.” He takes Michael’s hand and staggers to his feet, and Michael throws his arms around Calum, too overwhelmed for words, though he knows he doesn’t need them; Calum’s said it all, and anything he hasn’t said he definitely already knows. 

Calum kisses Michael’s neck. “Technically I haven’t even given you the present yet.”

“Calum,” Michael says, leaning away so he can see Calum’s face in its entirety, all the dips and curves and creases and the laugh lines and the deep brown of his eyes and every inch. “You’ve given me the present every day for the last seven years.”

Calum huffs, lips pulled upward, and he draws Michael into a kiss, one that’s doomed from the start for the way neither of them can stop smiling long enough to turn it into anything real. 

“That was cheesy, but I just proposed, so I’ll let you have it,” Calum murmurs against Michael’s mouth. He laughs. “Oh, fuck, I love you. Can I give you the ring?”

“Yes, please do.”

Calum fumbles with the ring box until he extracts the ring, then takes Michael’s left hand and slides it on. “Beautiful.”

“It is,” Michael says reverently, gazing at the crystal and then holding it up so he can see Calum at the same time. 

“So?” Calum says hopefully, tilting his head. “How would you rate this birthday present?”

Michael does a double-take. He’d completely forgotten his birthday in the excitement. “Ten thousand out of ten,” he says, and kisses Calum sweetly on the lips. “You’re going to have a lot of trouble topping this for my 26th, though.”

Calum just laughs, like he knows what Michael knows: that the promise of spending every birthday for the rest of his life with Calum is a gift Michael will keep receiving every year, and nothing could ever beat that.

[samthemarvelfan]

Goodbyes: Chapter Five

Summary: Ella Monroe is the Avengers newest recruit, handpicked by Steve Rogers himself. Indebted to him for reasons unknown, Cap pairs her up with Bucky Barnes. He is tasked with training her to relearn and hone the skills that have long since rusted. Bucky is cold and distant, and Ella can’t seem to break through the wall he’s built up for decades. He sees something in her though, and it scares him to death. Has the fate of these two strangers been sealed? …or will they always be longing…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC, feat Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson

Warnings: DARKER THEMES AHEAD. Angst, Bucky is a dick, mutual pining, self sabotage, male-on-female violence, description of injuries, PTSD, mentions of blood, violence, and death. Sloooooow burn ahead.

A/N: I continue to be blown away by you guys, thanks so much for all of the love! The tag list is open! so please let me know if youd like to be added! This one is a lil intense, but a beautiful set up in the works ;)

Taglist: @iheartsebastianstan @jjlizz @stuckysbabe @sk493494 (strikethrough means the tag didn’t work! I’m sorry!)

Now this is a tac suit.

Cap had left it outside your door for you to wear this morning. The suit fit you perfectly, and allowed for optimal stealth and flexibility. Combat boots, thigh holster, and duel daggers sheaths. Just some of the accessories you’d been gifted with.

Butterflies invaded your stomach as you made your way to the Quinjet. Doing the best you could today was essential for your career, but that wasn’t the only thing causing your nerves.

Sergeant Barnes would be there, and worse than that, so would his attitude. For the life of you, you didn’t understand why his temperament towards you kept changing.

In private, he’s so kind. He cares for you, and he shows it. But yesterday, like so many times before, he truly seemed to hate you. To have no desire for you to be around, and deem you completely useless.

You arrived on the jet last, seeing Bucky sitting alone. He was inspecting his rifle, assuring it was set to go. He glanced at you for a moment, eyes roaming the suit clung to your body before shaking his head and returning his focus to his gun.

Along the wall of the jet was the weapons rack. You load both your waist holster and thigh holster with pistols, and choose daggers lightweight enough to throw if necessary.

Steve walked from the front of the ship and smiled when he saw you. “Ready?” He asked as took a seat, and strapped himself in.

You nod, doing the same. “Ready.”

You sat next to Steve on the jet, Bucky across from you. Not the ideal seating arrangement but hey, you work with what you got. The visual however was certainly enticing. Sergeant Barnes looked so damn good dressed in his tac gear.

“You okay?” Steve asks sincerely, removing you from your thoughts, and earning a muffled scoff from Bucky.

You nod. Looking at Bucky quickly, “Just trying to keep my focus. I don’t wanna mess up.”

Bucky’s face was stoic. You knew he was a master at hiding his emotions, so that didn’t surprise you.

Steve rested his hand on yours, and Bucky shifted forward. “You won’t. You’re ready, besides you’re gonna be our eyes and ears on the ship. Isn’t that right, Buck?” He asked, calling to his friend.

Bucky, in the midst of checking out his rifle, caught Steve’s gaze. “She’s shouldn’t be here at all Steve.”

You sighed. Bucky truly didn’t want you around anymore. Just the thought of him hating you made you heart feel like it was breaking.

“You trained her. That already makes Ella more qualified than any of the recruits we’ve had.” Steve defended you.

You’re always reminded of how grateful you are for Cap. Without him, you’re sure you’d be dead, or worse.

“I only trained her for a small about of time. Who knows what kind of sloppy habits she’s picked up since then.” He quipped.

“Watch it, Tin-man. Watch it.” Sam spoke from the pilot seat.

Sergeant Barnes ignored Sam and turned his attention back to Steve, “The only reason she’s here is because she likes to defy orders,” he cocked his rifle, “and because you’ve taken pity on her.”

“She has a name, Sergeant Barnes,” You retort quickly, “and last time I checked, I don’t have to take orders from you anymore.”

Bucky stares at you for a moment, “Like it or not Doll, I’m still a CO.“ He secured the strap on his rifle, “and your name to me is Recruit.” He quipped.

You scoff, “Really? Because that wasn’t the case thr—“

“Arrival in 2 minutes 10 seconds, folks.” Sam shouted, cutting you off. Steve stood and walked to join him while Bucky’s eyes continued to remain on you.

You cleared your throat, moving to stand in front of him. “I understand you don’t like me—that you don’t wanna be around me...”

Yikes. Just saying that aloud hurt your heart.

You continued, “But you gave up on me. So why don’t we just go back to ignoring each other’s existence? That way neither of us gets hurt.”

Bucky doesn’t look at you, but you hear him whisper. “I didn’t give up on you.”

You cross your arms in front of you, “It doesn’t matter now does it? Because no matter what I do, nothing is ever good enough for you; I’ll never be good enough,”

“One minute.” Sam announces again.

Your eyes return to Bucky, whose gaze is now fixated on you. “I’m sorry I’m not enough. But I’m gonna prove you wrong, ya know.”

He licks his lips, about to speak when Steve returns, securing his shield to his back. “Ella stay here, keep the comms open. When you hear from Bucky, he’ll give you the all clear to drop the bay doors for extraction.”

You nod, “If you need me out there, just say the word.”

“No.” Bucky says quickly. “You’re to stay in the jet, don’t compromise this mission because you wanna play hero. Understood?”

Sam and Steve exchange glances, but they can’t interject. Regardless of who’s actually training you, Sergeant Barnes is still your commanding officer.

“Yes.” You grumble.

“Yes, what?” He asks sternly.

You let out a sigh of frustration. “Yes, Sir.”

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, he turns and exits jet, Cap and Sam following swiftly behind him.

He’s been more hostile and short tempered with you than ever. After the...incident...a few weeks ago, you thought maybe things would be different. After all, he’d shown you a side of him you had never seen.

Under all of that coldness and silence, he was kind and gentle. He felt more than he would ever let people know, and the regret and shame he was holding onto after what happened...it made you see him in a different light.

But now, since cutting ties with you, he’s colder than ever. Did he realize that maybe it was your fault? You had undone the months of progress he’d made, simply by being yourself. How could he not resent you for that?

Your mind wandered back to the day he came to your room. When he was stood in your most personal space, being the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him be. His touch echoed on your skin. Your mind recalling how your body reacted when he stroked your jaw. It felt electric—it felt right.

A shudder ran through your body, shaking the memories from your skin. Returning your attention to the controls, you had to admit you were a bit bored. You pop your feet up on the edge of the control panel, unsheathing a knife from your belt.

You toss it in the air a few times, catching it without even focusing. Your mind wouldn’t shut up! If it was just recon, why couldn’t you be out there in the field? At least you could have learned how a proper recon mission was carried out.

Despite your boredom and feeble attempts at distraction, Bucky never left your mind.

Sometimes the way he looks at you makes your stomach do backflips. His eyes have a way of piercing your soul, whether he means to or not. You just want him to like you—why do you want him to like you so badly?

A muffled static pulled you from your thoughts. Putting your knife away, you noticed the comm lines were going crazy, and Steve’s line was glowing. “Cap? What is it?”

You heard a burst of rapid fire. “Ella! Get that door open now!” His voice is panicked and it sounds like he’s running.

Your hands begin to tremble as you push your communicator, “What’s your location?” You respond, hoping your voice isn’t sounding as shaky to them as it does to you.

You wait the required 10 seconds for a response. Nothing.

“Cap? Steve? What’s your location?!” You shout. What were they firing at? This was supposed to be reconnaissance only!

Another 10 seconds pass, still no response. Are they hurt? Is someone down? Is Bucky okay? Steve said Bucky would be the one to give you the all clear...

You jump from your seat, and run to the back of the jet. Grabbing the pistol from your hip, you flick the safety off and hit the red button on the control panel.

The ramp had barely hit the ground before your feet do. The forest is thick, and dark but you’d been here before. The terrain becomes less and less foreign as you run your way through it, jumping over roots and dodging branches in your path.

You pause, turning on your heel as you hear the unmistakable sound of gun fire. It’s was Sergeant Barnes’ rifle, no doubt about it.

Thank God. He’s okay. You think to yourself.

The shots are getting closer now. “Cover, cover! Bogies on my 11 and 3!” You heard Sam’s voice in echo in the distance as it repeated in your ear piece.

They’re close. You think.

“Barnes! Cap! Does anyone copy?!” He screams.

No one is answering, but you still hear Bucky’s gun rapid firing in the distance. You had to do something or Sam wasn’t surviving this mission.

Taking a deep breath you push your communicator, “This is Cadet Monroe...I copy.”

Your boots are echoing off of the sodded ground. “Falcon, what’s your location?” You shout breathily.

“Courtyard in the north-most building!” He responded.

Your eyes scan the field looking for the familiar pillars, knowing the courtyard was in the building opposite. You spot the large cement structure looking like the remains of a building long blown to hell, and run for it.

“Cadet Monroe you get back to the jet NOW!” Bucky’s voice rang over the earpiece. Relief floods your veins when you hear it. He was okay and still fighting. You wanted to, but you couldn’t respond, not when Sam was in trouble.

Pressing your back against the cement wall, you peek around it. You spot Sam hidden between two large cement pillars. “Falcon, on your 6.” You whisper.

You see Sam use his peripherals and he nods subtlety. As Sam’s crouched down behind a chunk of cement, he gestured to his left and your eyes meet where he’s looking. There they were, HYDRA. Two soldiers approaching Sam from either side.

Knowing you only have one chance at this, you line up your shot, remembering what Bucky had told you about leading with you foot, and pull the trigger twice hitting the first soldier square in the chest.

He falls instantly, allowing Sam to run closer to where you are. “Now Sam! I’ll cover you.” You call.

Sam rolls across the opening of the pillars as the second HYDRA soldier pops out from behind the wall. You shoot again, but he dodges them. Without hesitation, you pull the dagger from your side and throw it full force. It slides through his chest like butter, nailing him straight through the heart.

“Ella, get your ass back on that jet! That’s an order!” Bucky shouts. He’s angry, you know that much.

Your instinct is to listen, if you don’t you’ll be defying a direct order from a superior officer. Unsure if it’s Sam’s life being on the line or your pride, you don’t respond to Bucky.

You were determined to prove him wrong.

Your lungs are burning and your adrenaline is working on overdrive, but Sam finally reaches you. “Are you hurt?” You ask breathless.

He shook his head, “No, but remind me again why the hell Barnes wanted you locked in there all this time?” He jested, catching his breath. “Thank you, Ella.”

You nod, clipping your pistol back in its holster. “What happened to simple recon? Hmm?” You tease.

He lets out a small chuckle, “Yeah, tell me about it,” Sam pauses to rip off one of his gloves, “Turns out we—GET DOWN!”

His warning doesn’t come quick enough as a bang surges through your shoulder. An indescribable pain covers the right side of your body as you collapsing to your knees.

Reaching up with your left hand, you grip your shoulder tightly, pulling back to see your hand covered in blood.

Is that my blood? You think as your legs give out beneath you, sending your body into the dirt.

Your hearing is muffled. All you can make out is your heart pounding and bullets being fired. You see Sam, he’s yelling for...Steve? That’s what it looks like he saying anyways. He’s waving someone down before you see him jump over you. Your vision is fading and it’s fading fast.

You’re fighting it as much as you can, blinking to keep the darkness from spreading. Coming to the conclusion you were in shock, you try to take several deep breaths, praying the bullet didn’t hit your lung.

Your hearing is returning slowly, and you catch the ending of your name. Was someone calling your name?

His scent hits you first, immediately bringing some sort of comfort to you. You look over and see Bucky secure his rifle to his side. He scoops you up into his arms, careful to not grip your wound. You feel him running inhumanly fast as he holds you to his chest.

Before you know it, your back hits the cool metal of the Quinjet’s deck as Bucky’s body hovers your right side. You know you’re losing blood and you’re losing it fast. The patches of black dotting your vision return as you catch a glimpse of him, panic is framing his eyes.

“S-Sergeant Barnes?” You ask through a clenched jaw.

“It’s me, Ella. I’ve got you.” He replies. You wanted to smile, but the pain forbid it. He said my name again. You think. His tone was soft, kind and...worried? He’s worried about you?

You see him rip a piece of fabric with his teeth. “B-Bucky I’m s—I’m sorry...Sam he was—c-comprom....couldn’t.” You slur. The blackness takes over. You’re sure you’ve passed out from blood loss.

You feel him jostle you, “Ella, stay with me. Come on Els, come on.” Are you dreaming? You have to be dreaming.

If you are, then this dream is vivid, eerily so. You feel a hand stroking your forehead, “I’ve got you, Doll. I’ve got you.”

God don’t wake me up yet. You think to yourself.

You hear more footsteps, suddenly the gentle hand is gone from your forehead and you feel pressure being applied to your wounded shoulder. You smell him still though, his campfire musk filling your nose and calming your nerves. You’re so relieved he’s alright.

“She’ll be okay Buck.” Steve reassures him. You’re sure dreaming now. Your eyes attempt to open once more, the light now is too bright, filling your vision with white, hot blindness. In the struggle to see, you see Sergeant Barnes stand from your side.

He lets out a shaky breath. Turning to away from you facing the side of the ship. The metal is suddenly rattled with a boom as Bucky’s metal fist collides with the side of the jet.

He looks furious. Yelling something at Sam and Steve. You couldn’t make out what it was, but it was a site you definitely didn’t need to see. “S-sorry. ‘M s-sor...” You mumble before the blackness takes over for good this time.

Chapter Six: Right

[alittlebitgoofy]

glass wings chapter 6 (lemonjuice)

took a lil bit but chapter 6 is here with 7 being mostly done, just needing more work and editing. i've been really excited for where this is going, i hope people enjoy :)

thanks to emerald for betaing they do be very entertaining

ao3 link

“You’ve gotten better! Try to relax more, though, let yourself feel the power before you use it.” Jan held back a laugh. Lemon had a lot of skill, but no patience to let it build up before doing something. She picked things up quickly, but the lack of attention after a short while was a little concerning.

“That sounds like a lot of effort,” Lemon whined, her eyes glued to her hands, still sparkling as she’d managed to teleport herself and Jan.

“You’re not good at that are you? Paying attention to people or focusing on things.”

“I’m also not good with people!” Lemon looked thoughtful before blurting out a response with a grin. She shrugged, it was something she’d always struggled with so why be negative about it? Though the positivity masked something darker, she wouldn’t let her self-doubt seep into this. It could bottle up and come out at a more reasonable time than when she was trying to pay attention to Jan’s teachings.

“I can tell, that’s not a thing to boast about.”

Jan shook her head, though they hadn’t known each other for that long, Lemon had become a little sister of sorts. They had a lot of similarities in their level of energy and excitement for small things nevertheless Jan could calm herself when needed. Maybe it was due to having a few years of life experience on the smaller girl.

“Maybe it is! Me and Juice have that in common.” It wasn’t surprising how she managed to bring up her best friend. Throughout their conversations, Lemon couldn’t help but bring Juice up every now and then. She had a big impact on the pixie although she wouldn’t admit it to her, knowing how smug Juice would get for succeeding in trying to calm the troublemaker.

“You and Juice have a lot in common, Lem. She’s a bit calmer than you though.” Jan lightly elbowed her in the arm, laughing at the overdramatic squeal she let out.

The noise alerted Rock, peering her head round the door before shrugging and going back inside. The pixies were both loud, dramatic people. It wasn't too shocking to see them play fighting. Something about the way Jan had taken Lemon under her wing was adorable though. She’d found her way into Rock’s life quite the same way. She was quick to warm up to people, endlessly loving to the point it was hard not to like her back.

The elf wondered if she would tire of this, her seclusion from people or the way she lived. Deep down she couldn’t help but hope Jan would stay with her, however unlikely that may be.

----

Crying. That was all Kiara could hear. It was faint, sounding as if the person didn’t want to be heard but couldn’t hold back their feelings. It hurt her to hear, and she fluttered over to the source of the sound cautiously. The sight of someone hunched over, head in their arms sobbing came into view. Then she realised who it was.

Juice couldn’t hold it back, her cold demeanor could only last for so long before she broke down. Though she thought she was alone, finally comfortable to let out her pent-up feelings, she heard someone fly around her, a concerned voice asking if she was okay.

Juice froze, looking up wide-eyed. Her stomach dropped as Kiara stared back at her, concern written all over her face. Though she didn’t move, the tears didn’t stop from rolling down her paralysed face. Everything was too much to deny, she’d been caught and had to say something to get Kiara off her back but the excuses weren’t there. She could do nothing but accept the hug her friend offered and cry more.

“Juice, hey, it’s okay. What’s wrong? I’ve never seen you so upset,” Kiara spoke in a hushed tone, holding the shaking girl closer. Juice wasn’t one to show much vulnerability, even to a close friend, something must have happened to cause this.

Juice couldn’t verbalise a response, struggling over her words before crying more, half out of frustration for her lack of communication skills and the other regarding everything happening at that moment.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I’m here for you, yeah?” Kiara rubbed her friends back supportively, whispering supportive words to her as the tears showed little sign of stopping.

That was what Juice did, she bottled up her emotions until they spilled over. It wasn’t a smart strategy, but it kept her able to function most of the time. She was used to swallowing down everything until the last moment that releasing it felt foreign. It was terrifying to do in front of another, although the way Kiara supported her made it feel that little bit better.

---

“Juice? You alright there? You’re thinking a lot, that’s worrying.” Tynomi hovered over the smaller girl, confusion etched onto her features. Juice realised she’d been blankly staring, her mind distracted by a distant memory that decided to make itself known again. It brought up a sour taste of how she put too much into her training, leaving the one friendship she had from getting closer. Kiara was the closest she ever got to someone her age before Lemon.

It stung in hindsight, knowing that had been the only time she opened up to Kiara. The fear stopped her after, not wanting to ruin any perception of strength she had. They’d talked about it after, once Juice had become the leader of their clan and Kiara had settled into a medic role. But it wasn’t the same as adults with responsibilities. Juice couldn’t help but yearn for her adolescent ignorance but also resented that time with a passion. At least now she had people around her, even if the walls rarely came down.

“I’m allowed to think, you should try it sometime,” Juice laughed as Tynomi looked taken aback before returning with an amused smile.

“Oh? She’s suddenly gotten a lot happier. You were moping yesterday and today you’ve bounced right back? I’m happy to see it.”

Juice felt an arm snake its way around her shoulders. Though she didn’t move away, the action felt foreign. She got along quite well with Tynomi. She had to, since they ran the entire clan between the two of them. Tynomi was also good for picking up things Juice couldn’t do, namely talking to people. She handled the large speaking roles, Juice’s anxiety getting the better of her a lot of the time.

They’d never been like this, something easier. A friendship.

Oh. A friendship. She had those. Multiple.

Juice smiled, relaxing into the affection. Tynomi almost couldn't believe she was seeing the infamously serious fairy relax. She knew of Juice’s issues with people, even those she’d consider a friend. Maybe that pixie was a good influence.

“So, Lemon? Ever since she’s come around you’ve been a little different.” Tynomi saw something change in Juice at the mention of her friend. Something she never thought she’d see from the leader. “Little Juice, she’s fallen in love hasn’t she.”

Juice stared blankly, processing before her eyes widened, a heat of embarrassment lighting up her face.

“You are!” Tynomi erupted into laughter at the way Juice avoided her gaze. Her eyes fell to the floor, though the blush on her face was clear from the way it crept its way up to her ears.

“Tynomi!” Juice cursed herself for not having any other response, only a squeak of protest due to how flustered she was. Was it that obvious? She’d been acutely aware there was something different about her and Lemon’s relationship but to call it love was startling

But it felt right.

Lemon had been nothing but a good influence on her, letting her calm down when things got too overwhelming and always finding a way back to her side. She’d felt so much happier since they started to get close. It finally all made sense. Lemon was an escape from the repetitive stress of her duties and lack of close relationships. The pixie forced her way in and helped fix the issues without realising.

She loved Lemon. Now, she had to process everything that went with that.

----

Kyne felt her heart melt as Kiara played with their dragon. He was a rowdy little guy, always wanting to play or follow one of his mothers. He’d clambered around her lap for a little while before setting his sights on the most comfortable looking place, her hair. Kiara attempted to get him off but the little guy was persistent. He made his way up her arm, gleefully nestling his hair into the curly afro. Kyne knew Kiara was against it but couldn't stop the sight, it was too adorable to intervene.

“Ok boy, I know it’s comfortable but can you please come down?” Kiara spoke to the dragon softly, a hand moving to slowly stroke his scales. Her question received a growl of protest, Pythy waving his wings to get her hands off as she attempted to move the small reptile.

The pleading look Kiara sent her made Kyne begrudgingly step in, lifting the dragon off without much difficulty, though he looked utterly betrayed by the act. An indignant huff and flick of his tail was all the anger he had in him before going back to begging for pets in Kiara’s lap.

Their quiet downtime could only last so long, a sudden noise got the attention of the trio as something came crashing through the door.

“Kiki! Kyne!” Juice flew through, her words fast and panicked. Pythy leapt up with a growl, relaxing upon seeing the familiar face.

“Have you seen Lemon?” Juice’s eyes watered, her face contorted in a pained sorrow. Despite the melancholy of her appearance, she seemed fidgety. Anxiety bubbling under the surface of sadness she carried.

“No? Isn’t she normally with you?” Kyne questioned, her tone trying to be soft enough to not rile up the smaller girl.

“Well, she isn’t!” Juice snapped, a wave of intense anger took over her as she went flying off. Kiara roughly grabbed her wrist, stopping her from leaving but causing the fairy to struggle like she was being held captive. “Kiara! Let go of me!” Her voice was higher, louder than her friend had ever heard. Juice continued to struggle, though it came to bite her as Kiara took a grip on both of her wrists.

“Juice? What happened?” Though her grip tightened, Kiara struck the right tone to get through to the thrashing girl. She held no anger in her words or eyes, only genuine concern that made her friend finally break.

The pain in her tone broke their heart, Juice turned around, eyes unable to move from the floor. Her whole body trembled as she held back a sob. Her tone was broken, solemn words spoken by someone who had the one thing she loved ripped away in the blink of an eye.

“Lemon is missing.”

[shyrose57]

Brothers anon, hopefully your doing well today/night! And idk if you want it, but I worked out what happened to Ran when he was on the run for a few years a bit. Not a whole whole lot but originally I had nothing so its improved a lil bit. 

There where halls that lead to mines under the sea floor! But there where also mines right outside of Mizu on the mainland that where also often used. The most they would go is a less than days walk away, they werent allowed to go any futher. 

1: Yes! In the group of people who never choose a idol, the most mature, fast learning, and reliable one is picked to learn everything needed to be a council member. Sadly no, he only meet them when he was extremely young and Dreams possession of him just further blurred and ruined his young self's memories. And no, cause during their travels the groups tries to avoid larger cities where most of the travelers tended to come from for safety.

3: Nah, at least not right now. Maybe when the main story is done I can have like Benjamin having to travel back to his family home after a family emergency and everyone just kinda tags along. Allowing them to meet Benjamins family. If I do decide to to that then I'm definitely having it so the brothers keep getting bothered, Watson keeps getting called Grandpa, Cletus, Grievous, and Jackke are terrible influences and Charles keeps having to run away because the kids are oddly obsessed with him and he's genuinely terrified of them. 

8: Burnt. Ranboo and Technoblade had a fucking blast finding a lot of Woodland mansions and burning them to the ground. But ignoring the ones that where the victims of arson, theres just not a lot of them. Over time more and more have been found which leaves less and less to be discovered. While in Kelalen they spot it and ask to be taken to it, but Mirpat, Asidi, and even Atlas refuse to take them. And Asidi has threatened to kick them out if he or anyone else spots them heading to it. Lucia explains that its a relic of the past, and due to the damage and erosion its faced its unstable, only certain people are allowed inside to record and explore it, and its very heavily guarded because people have tried to get in it before. But he reassures them that their doing tests to see how to repair the erosion damage and when a plan is fully formed the town is going to try to fully repair it to its former glory. From then it'll just be used as a guards base or museum type building. Pandoras vault is also a ok-ish distance away if that makes sense, but super far but also not super close. And the area around it is scarred from wars. 

They just ignore it, its better to not engage them and add fuel to the fire than to give them stuff to use against them. The Fishermen don't really care, both before and after the two groups merged. Sure they heard of Mizu but always decided that instead of just believing what everyone else says, if they see it themselves then they'll give it a proper judgment of it and its people. But because the city was in ruins when they saw it they decided to judge it based off Ranbob. And they've henceforth judged it as a strong, close-knit, resilient, and nice community. Which also speaks of how the group sees Ranbob. The Gladiators where suspicious of Ran when they very first met him and heard he was from Mizu, as they only really hard bad things about it. Like how the people there where savages, followed the old ways, how people there where stupid and quick to judge. But over time and talking with Ran they changed their opinion to more positive, taking in Rans tellings of Mizu and how he personally is. It was just a simple game of Spoons but played with flowers, Charles ended up winning, he was smug for the rest of the day.

10: No, he didn't even consider he was the cause as he was so used to living for years without needing food and water he forgot people actually needed that stuff. Shock, disbelief, just general distrust. They do not believe at all that Dream has a actual good side. Any attempt Good Dream would make at being their friends or making up for what his Evil Side did would immediately get batted away and ignored, if anything he'd probably get pushed away from the group by Ran, Cletus, and Watson as the rest escaped. It would take a long time for anyone of the group to believe that Good Dream actually existed and wanted to help and make everything up to them. 

My night/day is going well, and I hope the same for yours!

1: Well, they sound prepared! Dream effected his memories? Was Dream already influencing him around this time, or did his possession screw with memories he had before, because if so....well. Oof. 

3: I feel like Benjamin may quickly come to regret his decision if you do decide to do that, because uh. That sounds like a train wreck in the making. 

8: They just burnt them all to the ground for fun. Maybe one of the brothers ask about it, and Edward goes ‘oh, yes, that was your ancestor. He enjoyed doing that a concerning amount’ and just leaves them with that. Kelalen sounds cooler and cooler by the day, honestly. 

It’s interesting to hear how the two groups felt about Mizu, honestly. And wow, it sounds like Mizu had a lot of damaging rumors about it. 

This may make me sound like an idiot, but what, pray tell, is Spoons? And how do you play it with flowers? But very good, Charles deserves to be smug.

11:  D R E A M. He’s not a evil spirit, you have to feed him. Honestly. I am curious though, if he didn’t think he was the cause, what did he think was? 

And general bad reaction, got it. That’s pretty fair, all things considered.