#because like? the way they didn't catch feelings for each other until cycles deep into the century?

[anistarrose]

consider: demiromantic blupjeans who make rings for each other out of their own dry and bleached-white bones because they're little freaks (affectionate), but also because of the added symbolism of aro-spec white rings. consider demi blupjeans where the time they spent falling for each other is just as important and meaningful to them as their love itself

[midnightloversmusic]

Hot Cocoa & Love notes

remus lupin x reader

“Your cheeks only turned a darker shade when you looked up. The most gorgeous man you have ever seen was standing right in front of you, well, right behind the counter.”

first day of flufftober!!! I thought this would be perfect for day one, just a cute little coffee shop meet-cute :)) hope you enjoy!

masterlist

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Your fingers felt like they were 2 seconds away from falling off and the bus stop was still a block away and you thought you might as well give up here, drop your groceries and freeze to death, that is until you saw a sign a few store fronts up.

“ moony’s

$1 hot cocoa every sunday!”

The sign was written in pastel chalk and had the moon cycles drawn in a border around it. Seeing this sign saved you from one hell of a breakdown. With a sudden rush of motivation you headed inside the cute cafe. Immediately sighing from the warmth that you felt. It was past noon and there weren't a whole lot of people in the cafe. Just an older woman reading a cheesy romance novel on one of the dark green couches by the front, two teenagers, probably on a date, you think to yourself based on the giggling and awkward movements they made trying to discreetly scooch a little closer to each other. On the other side of the cafe there was a man silently typing on his computer and sipping on a steaming cup of coffee.

You were so busy studying the cozy place in front of you and trying to get the feeling back in your hands that you forgot to make any move to go up to the counter. That is until you heard a soft

“Ehm” coming from the front of the store.

Heat rose to your cheeks and you immediately started walking towards the counter. Your cheeks only turned a darker shade when you looked up. The most gorgeous man you have ever seen was standing right in front of you, well, right behind the counter. He had slightly curly auburn hair, wide hazel eyes, and a scar that went up from the middle of his left cheek all the way over the bridge of his nose to right under his right eye.

You definitely were not feeling cold anymore, in fact you felt like the cafe just got way too hot way too fast and all the sudden you wished you were in a tank top and jeans. The cute, and stunningly handsome, boy cleared his throat again, his lips are now tilted slightly upward. Obviously amused by your flustered state.

“Sorry” you mutter

Slowly coming to the realization if you keep staring at him you won't be able to get a word out without becoming a stuttering mess.

“Sorry” you repeat, shaking your head and redirecting your vision down to the granite counter.

“Can I please have a hot chocolate? No whipped cream please.”

“Mhm, and what will be the name for that?”

God. Even his voice was attractive for fucks sake. It was smooth and deep and just so,

“y/n” you say before you can think anymore.

“Pretty” he says so quietly you almost didn't catch it.

Lucky for you, you did. Or maybe unluckily because now you are sure your cheeks are heating up again. You watch him silently as he takes a foam cup from the stand next to him and gets a sharpie from under the counter. You watch his hands, which are absolutely sinful, your brain adds unhelpfully, as they write on the back of the cup. You track his movements when he walks over to the bar and starts making your cocoa. You're more than aware he can probably feel you staring at him. But you don't have enough energy to care anymore.

He quickly finishes up and slips a cardboard sleeve onto your drink so you don't burn yourself. He walks back over to the register and hands you your drink. Your fingers brush for more time than is necessary and you swear your stomach does backflips.

“Thank you” you said

His eyes are kind and his smile is soft when he says “of course, love”

You suppress a squeal as you pick up your bags from the floor and, begrudgingly, walk back out into the cold and to the bus stop. Once you made it onto the bus and have finally settled down you notice that the cafe boy wrote more than just your name on the back of the cup.

“You are very pretty, let me take you out sometime? :) - Remus” with a phone number written right beneath it.

You really hope no one is looking at you right now because if they were they'd probably think you were psychotic staring at your cup with a huge grin on your face.

Remus, You think. It suits the cafe boy very well.

You spend the rest of the bus ride planning out what to say to him when you call him later.

[fandom-hoarder]

happy wincest wednesday! what is something the boys would do for each when the other isn't looking or paying attention just to be nice?

Hahhh... sorry for letting this sit so long; I have been extremely distracted. Idk if it's appropriate to say "happy" today, but it does so happen to be wincest wednesday and well... this probably wasn't the kind of answer you expected at the time, but here's what this makes me think about today...

~

Dean wakes up -- later than he's been used to most of his life, but earlier than he's grown accustom. He can feel that Sam's still in bed, and guesses it's before Sam's 6am run. But then the hairs on his body raise inexplicably, and he sits up with the urgency of a house fire.

"What's going on?"

And Sam's answer is tired, red-rimmed eyes and his phone wordlessly turned so Dean can see the screen.

Dean feels detached from the bigger issues of the election as Sam cycles through the stages of grief throughout the morning. Dean's only concern is Sam.

Sam tries to start getting ready for his run. "They haven't really even finished the count yet. There's still a chance for a miracle in the mail-in votes," he says, but his shoe drops from his hand when he tries to pick it up, and he just stares at it. Dean wonders if Sammy is thinking about their track record in miracles.

So Dean agrees, "Of course, come on, this guy again? No way. The blue guys'll clinch it." And he helps Sam put on his shoes and then puts on his own, pulling Sam out of the bunker with him and bracing against the early morning chill, only to be met with a balmy, pre-sunrise 50 degrees.

Halfway through their jog, Sam suddenly breaks his sync with Dean, kicking at a tree with a guttural growl and the full force of his foot as if he was wearing his hunting boots. Dean cringes.

"Maybe if I'd found a way for us to vote without getting arrested -- we've broken so many laws anyway, what's a little voter fraud, right?! But no. And now look!"

He aims for the tree again, but Dean catches his leg with an 'oof.'

"C'mon, Sam, you know that's ridiculous. The two of us wouldn't have turned Kansas around by ourselves. You can't help that you still have faith in people, Sammy. You wouldn't be you if you didn't."

"Because I'm stupid," Sam says bitterly, and turns around to jog back to the bunker.

Dean follows him, but can't quite keep up this time. When he reaches the bunker, Sam is on the phone in the kitchen.

"I'm tellin' you, Garth, it's just like that time with Dick Roman when they drugged everybody to turn us into food. You really haven't heard anything? Don't you think it's completely crazy to believe his followers aren't under some kind of supernatural influence, for him to get away with all the horrible shit he does?"

"Well, maybe you could try asking Rowena---" Garth's tinny voice suggests as Dean pulls the phone away and hangs up.

"Dean--" Sam complains, reaching for the phone dispassionately.

"You know we already looked into this asshole. He's 100% human evil, Sammy."

Sam collapses onto the table bench, hand over his face. "Claire's already texted me twelve times. I don't even know what to say to her."

Dean looks at Sams phone and sees that there's a voicemail from Patience too. Pursing his lips, he turns off Sam's phone and pockets it. He sidles up behind Sam, cupping the back of Sam's neck and squeezing like he's scruffing him.

Sam takes a deep, hitching breath and holds it, breathing it out long and slow as Dean slides his hands down to dig his thumbs into the knots Sam's formed over the last twelve anxious hours.

"Well I guess," Sam starts, softly, "At least now he can't run again after this."

Dean starts to glimpse the promise of relief in his belly, before Sam adds with a self deprecating laugh: "As long as he doesn't change the law about term limits."

Dean squeezes Sam's shoulders, and keeps working at the tension until his hands get sore. Then he makes them breakfast, and makes sure Sam gets something in his stomach besides coffee.

But after Sam mechanically finishes the eggs and pancakes, Dean adds a couple splashes of whiskey when he tops up Sam's coffee -- after which, Sam says he should finally take his shower, but decides to lay his head down on the table for a minute and falls asleep.

Dean does his best to make sure Sam won't wake up with an even gnarlier backache, and does the dishes quickly before sneaking into the archives for the ingredients to contact Rowena.

But Rowena is no help to him if it doesn't come with a deal, and Dean has finally learned enough to know Sam wouldn't find the trade fair.

Dean lets Rowena go and turns Sam's phone back on, refreshing the election map. It still shows a handful of states at less than 80% reported, despite the bold banner at the top announcing a winner, and Dean looks at it in disgust.

A new text notification chimes in, and Dean sees Claire's name and a preview of her text: "I can get Alex to teach us how to do backroom abor" and Dean can guess what the rest of the text says.

Dean meets Sam in the hallway, calling for him.

"Hey," Sam says, sliding on his socked feet as he sees Dean and stops short. "I heard my phone. Was that Claire?" He snatches his phone from Dean and immediately starts scrolling, reading Claire's texts under his breath and dancing his fingers across the keys in a sudden fury. Quickly, Sam goes from upright to hunched like a question mark over his phone, shuffling restlessly up and down the corridor and mumbling about hrt supplies.

"Sammy, will ya take a breath? I'll knock over a pharmacy before I make ya go without your shots. --They'll still be makin' it for cis dudes, right?"

"Yeah. Probably. And I know you would, Dean, but I'm not worried about me," Sam says, not looking up. "Claire's going to scope out some manufacturing facilities with the girls and we're gonna set up an underground hrt resource. I wonder if there's anyone in our network who could work out a small manufacturing setup. It's too bad Kevin...or Charlie..." Sam mumbles down into nothing as he keeps typing, and Dean's stomach clenches.

He herds Sam, still typing, down to the showers, and gets the steam going while he strips Sam down and finally pulls the phone from his grasp. Dean pulls Sam down to him and goes up on his tiptoes to kiss Sam's forehead. He swears he can smell the salt of Sam's tears, and when he looks at Sam's face again they shimmer on his cheeks like the silvery scars of his top surgery.

Gently, Dean pushes Sam into the shower and under the water, carving his hands through Sam's hair to wet it down.

"Didn't think we'd be going through another apocalypse again so soon."

"Or ever," Dean agrees gruffly, grabbing Sam's special shampoo. "But this one isn't on us, Sam."

Sam closes his eyes, somehow still admonishing even as more tears join the water on his face. Dean's sudsy fingers scrub his scalp soothingly. "Dean. It's what we do."

"HRT, ok, that's one thing. But clandestine abortions?"

Sam snorts. "Alex can teach us."

"Us?"

Sam leans to rinse under the water when Dean directs him. "We'll cache abortion pills for the easy stuff, but we should be prepared to do more. We've taken bigger risks on DIY, and at least we'll get some training on this. Soon there might not even be any other options..."

So that's how Dean finds himself on his knees. Alone in his room. Praying to Jack as Sam sets up some type of mission control in the library.

"Please, Jack, I know you said you're hands off, an' all, but I think you should make an exception for Sammy. Just this once. He's had a lifetime of Hell-- more'n a lifetime-- and this is supposed to be our retirement. So can ya chip in a little for his 41st half-birthday -- which you missed, by the way -- and fix this freaking election so we don't hafta spend our retirement in another friggin' apocalypse?"

A weird feeling comes over Dean as he prays, buzzing through him with warm, alien reassurance. And as his stomach starts to unclench, he adds: "and hey, I'm not expecting ya to fix all of human history-- we're still team free will down here-- but throw in some worldwide human rights and extended ceasefires while you're at it. You missed a few of his actual birthdays, too, y'know."

Five minutes later, Dean's knees are cracking as he stands up and sprints down the halls towards the sound of Sam's bellowed, "Oh my god. Dean!"

Sam is gaping blearily at his laptop in the library.

"What's up? You okay?"

Sam can only gesture at his laptop, where the screen is displaying the final results of the count, and the Dems managed to pull a sudden upset, tilting the final count to their favor by two swing states after the paper ballots were counted.

"Ho-ly shit," Dean says, almost unable to believe it himself.

"And that's not all!" Sam says with a hint of bright incredulity, and scrolls down his news page.

"ALL the firearms disappeared?!" Dean asks, reaching for his gun automatically but realizing he'd never armed himself today. "Bombs, too? How?"

He knows how, but he still feels shocked. He'll have to check their stashes to see if Jack disarmed even them -- Dean really needs to get better at wording his wishes. They can't just be naked out here if monsters still exist.

But Sam answers Dean obliviously, "No idea! There's already a bunch of conspiracy theories on social media, each one crazier and yet more plausible than the last. Tucker Carlson already uploaded an AI shortfilm about how it was demons---" Sam turns to Dean suddenly and Dean cuts him off before he can speak it.

"It wasn't Rowena."

When Sam frowns at him in confusion, Dean begrudgingly elaborates, "I tried asking her for a favor while you were asleep, but she said that big of an ask would require a deal. You know I know better than that." (Now.)

Sam looks outrageously skeptical, and Dean feels offended. "Dean, people are reporting resurrections and olive trees sprouting full grown from rubble. Razor wire around global borders turning to wildflowers. Fields of grain in Ukraine. Cereal stalks cropping up in desolate Sudan farms, sprouted with grain and full heads of cooked kisra..." Sam keeps scrolling past miraculous headlines. "And these videos don't look like AI."

Dean bites his lip, wondering-- hoping-- that this will bring an end to the suffering, and not just be a bandaid before things continue going to shit. He focuses on the headlines and video titles quickly scrolling by, watching for anything about peace agreements or troops retreating. Screw free will, actually, just a little bit.

"D-Dean... do you think... Jack?"

Dean watches the weight of the world ease off Sammy's shoulders, infinitesimally, and doesn't resist the urge to wrap his arms around Sam, kissing his temple.

"Maybe, Sammy. Maybe."

[esouliie]

– BLACK GRAPE

– pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

– synopsis: natasha sees a ghost of her past.

– warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

To a stranger, she looked to be nearly whole again. Her laughter was loud once more, complimented by the dulcet tones of birdsong and chimes. Her hair blazing elegantly like the fire of her love, her eyes sparkling like the sky on a July day.

There were no words uttered about Wakanda, the blood and ashes of your loved ones lost. Life before was a fading memory, and the anguish was alleviated by each other's embrace. She'd hold you in her arms and shield you from the harshness of the new world, whispering words of comfort and praise in your hair. And she'd laugh and smile, dazzling and pure. Her purpose was gone; she didn't have the energy to hate anymore. She decided the red on her ledger was no more.

But a melancholy enveloped her, perhaps she fantasised about one more mission. One last shot to prove herself. A silent vow made not to mention her sorrow.

—

Even though half of the population disappeared, the streets of New York were still busy. The two of you were hiding underneath caps, concealing yourselves from the rest of the crowd.

Her hand rested in yours, calloused from decades of combat, accompanied with a little squeeze every once in a while.

You got to know Natasha over your time as an Avenger.

Both having relatable history, you were drawn towards each other. Even though you were cycled into the Red Room after her departure, you had heard of the infamous Black Widow. The one that betrayed Mother Russia for the American dream.

You continue to walk in silence.

The sight of Imperia vodka amongst an array of different alcohols in a store window catches your attention. Alcohol was banned from the compound. A decision made solely by you due to Natasha’s incline to drown her sorrows in vodka. A liquor - familiar to you both- in more ways than one.

In your other hand, was a large soda. Black Grape. You introduced Natasha to the drink, letting her take a sip. Her face scrunched in disgust. Apparently, she could feel already feel the diabetes in her blood. But what was your favourite, soon became hers. Days where you and Natasha would hang out always ended with Black Grape. It was your vodka.

A sudden jolt tugs you from your memory. Natasha’s grip on you tightens. All the muscles in her body solid as concrete. She stares ahead, eyes wide open.

People begrudgingly move around you both, but not without a sigh, or a weird look. You ignore them.

“You okay?” Your voice soft, trying to hide the growing concern.

She remains frozen.

“Hey.” You slide over into her line of vision.

She blinks, diamond tears flutter across her lashes.

“What’s wrong?”

Her eyes dart to you before she extends her neck, standing on her toes to look over the sea of heads. She frantically searches.

She bolts, dragging you along as she weaves through bodies. Apologies tumble from your mouth as you knock into the sides of people.

“Hey, wha-, Natasha!” Your voice lost to the wind.

She stops by the corner, chest heaving.

“I saw Wanda.”

—

Before the snap, Natasha and Wanda were engaged. They were planning a spring wedding, being Natasha’s best friend, you were maid of honour. You even helped in the selection of the rings and the proposal. It was in Canada. The couple had spent the day visiting Niagara Falls and when night fell, they were engaged.

Wanda was among those that disappeared and Natasha suffered deeply. The rings now stashed deep inside her bedside table.

She was always nursing a coffee in the early hours of the morning because she hadn't slept the night before.

She’d lost muscle easily, refusing to keep active or do anything other than lay in her room. You couldn’t blame her though. Once again, she was alone.

Bereavement had been her companion these past few years, a shadow that in time lessened until gone. Because of you.

She was a ghost by the time you decided to say something. Obviously, confronting the grieving woman ended in a heated argument. She forced a slew of nasty names down your throat, but you never yielded. You needed her as much as she needed you.

Months passed, and a new flame of love was lit.

Natasha was hesitant.

Every time you touched, guilt flared in her chest. A part of her believed she had wronged Wanda by pursing this - for giving up on her. You could see it every time she let her guard down. The constant back and forth - pulling you in to push you out - was takings its toll. The anguish in Natasha's eyes began to reflect in yours.

The beginning was hard but you let set the pace. All the cards were on her side of the table. It was up to her if she wanted this.

And now, Natasha sleeps at night.

—

“Tasha.” You have no idea what to do. 

What do you even respond to that?

There’s no way whoever she saw was Wanda. You’d seen the witch turn into ash. Accepting her fate, she left comfortably. Natasha was holding her.

It’s been five years and no one has come back. If they did, you two would know.

The rest that remained left. There was no need for them to wallow in the vacant compound.

No hope. No duty.

Some had families to return to.

Some didn’t. 

Normally, Natasha would avoid talking about Wanda with you, preferring to keep her past and present separate. However, this time was different.

“I know it’s not her.” A moment passes. “My mind just wants to hurt me.”

You hum in acknowledgment.

“I miss her.” She whispers, her throat constricting.

“I know, baby. I miss her too.” You gently squeeze her hand.

And all of a sudden, everything clicked.

The urge to hold you close and kiss you endlessly overwhelmed the woman.

She wants to make this work. She's had enough of being what keeps her from being happy.

She’s in love.

“I...” She began unsure, goosebumps tingle up her spine. “The guilt is still there. Some days are better than others. But I’m tired of being uncertain of this - of how I feel about you.”

She screws her eyes shut, as if in pain, and tears roll freely. “You’re so important to me, and I want forever for us. I love you.”

A short gasp- only heard between you both- falls from your lips. Natasha’s eyes shoot open. Her head is angled down slightly; a soft vulnerability in her eyes.

She wears her heart on her sleeve, waiting for your reply.

With a newly found shyness, your reach, a thumb strokes a flushed cheek, guiding her chin forward to connect your lips.

The kiss was gentle and meaningful all the same. It meant everything. It was you choosing each other.

“I love you.” You confess, a warm palm still cradling her face.

[lunapwrites]

fic writer ask game. sorry couldn’t resist 😂😂

"Describe your writing process from scratch to finish."

Oh boy.

Well uh... usually I start off with a Random Thought that my brain catches on like a sweater sleeve on a thorn, and then I just sort of... follow the string to see where it goes.

Can I visualize conversations around it? Usually this is key for me, the way that the characters engage with each other in the moment. From there, I can get a sense of their "mental state." How would they react to certain events? What feels right? And then it continues down this little domino path until I get to the end. Where do they end up? Does it make sense?

If the story still has me after I've mentally seen it through to its conclusion, I will start to write it down. And I will typically start at the beginning... or at least what I envision to be the beginning. There is a 50/50 shot of what was the beginning becoming the middle instead (Looking at you, Chapter 16.)

I write slower than molasses. I tend to edit as I go (I shouldn't, but I do.) I read out loud to myself to make sure that it sounds right. Often, during the draft stages, it can look like a screenplay rather than a fic.

I often plateau and get deeply discouraged; I make playlists to get the images and emotions instead of the words at the forefront of my brain. This helps about 75% of the time.

I agonize over the ending, and second guess myself as to whether it sounds like it was just left off in the middle of a thought or not. (There is a chapter in LTL that I actually have to go back and adjust because originally I WAS going to continue the scene, and then didn't.) Cliffhangers are fine, but not every chapter. Mic drops are fine, but not every chapter. Did I say everything I needed to? Am I actually done? When did I last get up?

And then it goes off to beta, and back to me, and back and forth until finally we're both satisfied and I can feel confident posting it. Or at least be willing to fling it into the internet for the readers to be the judge of. Which of course means Deep Anxiety for the first week while I wait for comments haha. But yeah.

In short: Most of it is me screaming at my computer screen and battling my perfectionism, and then continue screaming over everything after I post anything hahaha. The cycle never ends. :)

OH! And rarely, I will become possessed and manage to bang something out in 2 hours, and that's how you get something like Red.

Sorry for the long and convoluted answer, but thanks for the ask!

[sotorubio]

honestly no matter if maya ends up with lola or june, i want her to a have a love interest.

yeah, i would prefer mayla because they have more buildup and moments but if maya were to end up with june i wouldn't hate it.

and i do not think a love interest is necessary and the skamverse absolutely needs a season without a love interest where the main just chills with friends and work on themselves. an aro-ace main would be amazing, too.

however the fact that it's realism only when it comes to the sapphic couple, it doesn't feel right.

why do cishet get to have all the fun clichés and cheesy romcoms while queer people can only have media dedicated to their trauma and suffering?

why can't a sapphic couple like mayla get a fun cliché romcom cheesy ending too?

why do they have to break up the only wlw couple of the show and one of the only 3 wlw couples in the whole skamverse?

by this logic, shouldn't elu break up too since lucas expressed twice the fear of being cheated on purely because elliot is bi/pan and didn't elliot kiss lola without lucas consent? so, where's the elu break up?

but deep down, every sapphic woman knows why.

if maya ends up without a girlfriend this season and doesn't even get back with lola/get with june next season, I'm calling it for what it is : lesbiphobia.

i know cishets will laugh looking at this ask and i know what they will say, but honestly? it's true. the double standards are so real.

maya as a character has been through so much and she absolutely did mistakes (which is why lola broke up with her) but she's working trough it and she showed that she is genuinely willing to put in the effort and open up, no matter how hard, because she really loves lola.

so, since characters aren't real people but tools that the writers use, what are they trying to show if maya ends up alone?

that traumatized people can't have relationships until they're 100% done with their healing (which could take years?) that even when you put in the effort you don't deserve nice things? that realism is not real until it comes to queer women who apparently can never get an happy ending and must always be perfect and make no mistakes and always do everything right?

it absolutely wouldn't be queerbaiting unlike someone says because maya, lola and june are all canon wlw and mayla were together but it definitely it's a sort of baiting, luring wlw fans with the premise of a whole season about a lesbian character and her relationship with her girlfriend and then keeping them on their toes, making them stay in the hope that mayla will be together only to be "ahah sike! they aren't endgame ;-) at the end and for maya to be alone. (that in the case they don't end up together, obviously)

i guess I'm just really frustrated because we can never have peace and we always get reminded that before being people, we're queer women.

really hope this was not too much, feel free to delete if it is.

it's not too much don't worry! i rly agree here i think this season is kind of on thin ice rn considering we don't have much time left n even if i think mayla will still find a way back to each other within these last weeks this same line of thinking is catching up to me too bc the clock is ticking!!!!

if this was another show / format i would be more willing to watch a wlw story abt a break up n have them end up single n i see maya's character as someone who, in another show, would be very interesting to see choose herself n be single for a while. howeverrrrr maya in skam france shouldn't get that treatment n skamfr specifically shouldn't break up their only wlw couple for good, or like u said at the very least have the main character have a happy ending w someone else. it's not fair for the couple n it's not fair for maya individually bc like u said what kind of message does that send? that maya is just stuck in an endless cycle of despair? cmon

it's just v unfair to propose realism as an excuse for that in a show that's been ignoring realism since the beginning. i'm a huge elu divorce supporter but the truth is that hasn't happened to them or any other main couples (even arthur n alexia basically ended up back together even tho they had cheating as part of their plot??? i know they were confirmed broken up in s7 but 1. that was a different team n 2. i don't think they knew abt the renewal while writing s6) so it's definitely valid to see this as lesbophobia if they indeed make maya end up single in the end.

ive seen a few suggestions that mayla might get back together in s10 but i think that only works if the season is multi pov n even then it'd be rly shitty not to tell their full story during maya's season. it'd also feel kind of redundant... like if u go through all that trouble to show "realism" in them breaking up then why would u take back that message just one season later 🤷‍♀️

like i said if it was another show i might not feel the same bc i don't think all stories need to be happy if they include wlw characters n i don't think writers should make their decisions based on how much ppl love a "ship" but in the context of these dumb web series it's just not a good look if only the one (1) wlw couple gets this treatment.

i don't even have anything else to add i think u put it into words rly well n i agree w all of that

[imagineabrighterworld]

{Flowers} Midoriya x Reader

Summary// Soulmate!AU where everyone has different soulmate markers. Yours happens to be that flowers bloom where your soulmate gets injured. You just happen to be paired with the boy who breaks his bones daily.

Buds and small blossoms were the norm for you as a child. You would find yourself with little blooms on your palms or on your knees, your mother explaining that that meant your soulmate hurt themself. Maybe tripped or bumped into a table.

Your mom told you how the buds that bloomed on your cheeks meant someone was being mean.

As a teen you realize that the flowers on your body meant cruel things and cruel people.

"Hang on out there." You whisper to the flower on your shoulder, its soft petals tickling your skin. You wished you could talk to your soulmate through your skin like your mothers, how they could write on their skin and see the message on each other, or sing and hear the others voice like your uncle had with his wife. But you and your soulmate were connected by flowers.

What was going on in their life to have so many flowers? Sometimes you could feel phantom pains on your stomach as small bruise colored blossoms grew on your skin, or feel the sharp sting of a slap on your cheek the color of yellow daisies.

One day you're walking down the street when you bump into a green haired boy. You were in a good mood, lately there hadn't been new flowers on your body, which had to mean your soulmate was having a good week.

"Hi." You smile at the boy whose face immediately turns pink.

"H-Hi!" He stutters, his hand immediately going to the back of his neck. "Sorry for bumping into you, I should've been watching- not watching you! But watching out! You know- like how you walk and- and yeah.."

You chuckle. He was cute. Covered in freckles and with bright green eyes like the leaves of a tulip. "Don't worry about it." You hold out your hand and introduce yourself. "How about you?"

He shyly takes your hand. His grip is surprisingly stronger than you expected. "I'm Izuku Midoriya."

"Nice to meet you Midoriya." You smile and shake his hand firmly. "Guess I'll see you around."

"Y-Yeah." He smiles.

He smiles and for a moment the world slows to a stop.

You suck in a breath and hold onto your smile as you continue walking.

--

It's when you enter highschool that the flowers return.

You're in the middle of orientation when deep purple hellebores sprout from your finger. You flex your hand and feel the ghostly pains of a broken bone. Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you listen to the droning of your homeroom teacher.

What happened to start the cycle again? Why was your soulmate hurting? Who was hurting them?

For the first weeks of school, you're stuck with that question as you do nightly checks. Your arms were constantly covered in flowers, and if you were capable of laughing at something so serious, you would debate selling bouquets with the flowers you were growing.

--

The day of the U.A. Sports Festival you sit between your moms and listen to the pro hero Present Mic as he introduces the classes.

Your mom cheers from your left. "We’ll get to see the first years that survived the villain attack!"

Your mother on your right chuckles. "You say it like it was planned darling, they're only kids. They're probably scarred."

Your moms debate the mental health of the 1-A first years as you watch the students from your spot in the stands. The blooms were getting better and had receded, showing your soulmate had healed which allowed you to focus on the games below.

But then a new set of questions popped up.

Would your soulmate be watching too? Were they interested in the sports festival? Were they quirkless? Did they have a quirk? Did they want to be a hero? You couldn't stop the questions that flowed freely in your mind.

You lean on your palm with your elbow resting on your knee. Your face lights up with surprise as you spot a familiar face in the crowd of students from Class A.

"Hey I know that boy!" You point to Midoriya and tug on your moms sleeves. A smile forms on your face. You didn't know he was going to U.A. but then again you never asked. You didn't think to ask.

"I never got his number though."

Your mother hums. "Too bad, he's cute."

Your mom pats your back. "You can try after the games are over."

During the first and second event, you keep your eyes glued to Midoriya. He was a good strategist. Even if he hadn't shown his quirk yet, you could see how skilled he was. It was a far cry from how you met him. Stuttering and shy. He was confident now, albeit a little emotional. He felt different to you.

"You can do it!" You whisper to yourself, your hands clenched as you see him step up to begin his match. You believed in him!

"Welcome to the first match of the finals tournament!"

From above you could see the student across from him begin to speak. Obviously you couldn't catch what was being said, but you had high hopes for Midoriya!

"Ready? Begin!"

Midoriya begins to run forward, but right as he nears the middle of the platform, he freezes in place and stays there. You feel a shiver run through your body as you watch him. Why was he staying still?

"The fight has just begun and Izuku Midoriya is completely frozen!"

The other  boy’s lips start to move. Midoriya turns around and begins to walk back to his side of the ring.

No. He starts walking to get off of the platform.

“What is he doing?” Your mom mutters, “Silly boy, he's supposed to be heading the other way!”

Your mother murmurs in agreement. “Could it be his opponent’s quirk?”

You didn't quite care as you stood up from your spot and began yelling. “Come on Midoriya! You can do it! Don't give up!”

He was just a step away from the border of the platform when a giant blast of wind came from his hand. At that moment you felt the ghostly pains of your index and middle finger snap. Baby’s-breath grew from your fingers.

You look down at your hand in horror as the announcer screams over the intercom.

"What's this! Midoriya stopped just in time!"

Midoriya was an inch away from the platform, but all your focus was on the flowers that bloomed on your skin. Flowers in the same place as his injuries.

You sit back down, ignoring your mothers as they continue cheering when Midoriya goes back into action. You don't see what happens next, all you hear is that Midoriya won.

On went the battles, but your focus was on your hand and the flowers that slowly fell off as the broken fingers were healed.

When his next match came, you looked up from your stupor. He was fighting a boy who had so far sweeped his way through to the finals. A part of you wanted to cheer Midoriya on, knowing that his match would be a tough one, but the other part was reeling in horror at what would become of his body. He broke his bones using his quirk.

Day in and day out, you had seen flowers grow on you, and you never had a face to link them to.

Cuts, bruises, burns, broken bones.

All from him.

You don't watch his match, all you hear and feel is the shattering ice of his opponent and the flowers that burst from your skin in waves of color. First his fingers, then his arms.

The match ends, and you are left sitting with hydrangeas and hibiscus, poppies and peonies all littering your arms as if you were a living garden.

“Sweetie what happened?” Your mother finally asks from  beside you, or maybe you just weren't listening before. “Could your soulmate be that boy- hey!”

You stand up and push your way through the crowds, running down the line of stairs and around the stadium. The students were in seats across from you, which meant they had to have an entrance nearby.

A door lay in front of you, blocked by several Pro Heroes. You transform into a butterfly, not caring about the pain that rattled through your body at shifting into such a small creature as you fly past their watch and enter the stadium reserved for the students.

You fly past doors marked as waiting rooms until you reach the recovery center.

The door was cracked open, and inside you could see him. He was bandaged up, his body covered in scratches and bruises.

You shift back into a human and slam your flower coated fists on a nearby table.

His eyes open and he straightens up on the recovery bed, wincing in pain when he moves his arms. His eyes were dull with pain, but they had the same light in them as when you had met him for the first time.

Did that light drive him to hurt himself so much?

“You again- how did you get in here?” He sits up properly.

Your eyes are full of tears as you look at his casts.

“You.” You wipe at your eyes, spreading pollen across your face. “I've been a living garden for fifteen years and all you have to say is how did you get in here?”

You can hear the confusion in his voice as he mumbles a small “I’m sorry?”.

Summoning a claw, you pierce the side of your neck and make a thin line.

From his neck, carnations bloom from his skin at the same site of your wound.

His eyes widen in realization.

You both stay silent until you let out a breathy laugh. Now he knew. Now the cogs were turning. You were always so careful to not get hurt to keep from scaring your soulmate, but did he ever put in the same care?

“We’re soulmates..” He whispers.

“For fifteen years.” You repeat silently. “For fifteen years, I’ve had sleepless nights, knowing you were being hurt. For fifteen years you gave me flowers. Looking at flower shops were so painful because they reminded me of you. I couldn't even stand being at my uncle’s wedding because the arrangements reminded me of your pain.”

“I’m-”

You hold up your hand. “Why do you hurt yourself so much? Why go through so much pain? This quirk.. Is it so important for you to become a hero if all you get out of it is pain?”

With blurred vision and eyes stinging from tears, you look at Midoriya who had a quiet look of contemplation on his face. It takes a beat before he looks you in the eyes.

“I want to become a hero that brings a smile to people’s faces. A hero you can rely on.” His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps. “A hero you can rely on. I never meant to make you cry. I'm sorry.”

You slump down to the floor. You hear him squeak and jump down from the bed, letting out a string of “ow’s” before crouching in front of you.

“Really, I’m sorry-”

You place a hand over his mouth and give him a stern look. “Just shut up.”

“Yes ma'am.” He mumbles from behind your hand, his face obscured by the flowers on your hand.

“Ma’am?” A small laugh threatens to escape you.

“I say things when I get nervous..”

Despite the weight of the emotions you had been carrying, you finally laugh.

He leans away from your hand, a blush on his cheeks as you hold you cover your own mouth to try and tame your laughter.

“So um.. Im free Sunday. If you want to talk about how this'll work..?” He questions meekly.

You wipe your eyes and smile. “I’d like that.”

Extra//

You hang upside down from a tree as you watch Midoriya train. He had come over for dinner but as you waited for your moms to finish cooking, you both took to the outside. He had looked to your training grounds in awe and quickly pleaded with you to try out the course.

“It’s my mother’s, not mine, go ahead.” And how could you deny his bright eyes and smile? The damned thing could light an entire city.

He was nearly drenched in sweat by the time he stopped his run through of the course and his small session of shadow boxing. He wipes away his sweat with the back of his hand and sits down under the tree where you hung like a bat.

“Nice huh?”

“Yeah. What does your mother do to have a space like this?”

“She's a hero. But she patrols the west region. She comes back every few weeks to visit us.”

He bonks you on the head as he looks up in amazement. “She's the Transformation Hero Mystique?!”

You quirk a brow. “Bingo. How'd you get that?”

“Lucky guess.” He mumbles sheepishly. 

“You saw her hero costume didn’t you.” You ask bluntly.

He fiddles with his scarred fingers. “I may have taken a detour when I went to the bathroom..”

You turn your head and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Silly boy.”

[leotssukinaga]

Friendship Bracelet

Makoto Yuuki x Reader

A/N: I literally dont know where this fic came from, it just popped into my head a few hours ago and now its here. Disclaimer that I don’t know Yuuki that well as a character so I’m not entirely sure how well I wrote him. This ends so cheesy but its cute so I stand by my choices Summary: Makoto and you have been best friends for years, even when you couldn’t see each other often your friendship held firm. There’s just one issue... Makoto doesn’t know if it’ll survive the romantic feelings he’s developed for you. Tags: Fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst, cheesy as hell, childhood friends to lovers Word Count: 1.7k

Makoto wasn't sure whether to smile or frown as he stared at the bracelet adorning his wrist, fiddling with it with his other hand. It was a little worn, though you could hardly see where he'd had to mend it when he caught it on that fence last year and it snapped, but even after 4 years of wearing it constantly the colours were as bright as the day you'd given it to him, the green heart embedded in the blue standing out as much as ever. It had been on his mind a lot recently- or rather, what you'd said when you gave it to him had.

-

You hopped up to him at lunch time, a sad sort of smile on your face. He knew why. You were graduating middle school in two days, and you weren't going to the same high school. You'd admitted to him a few weeks before that you were scared to face the world without him, that you didn't want him to stop being your friend just because you didn't see each other every day. He'd been a little too embarrassed to admit that he felt the exact same way. "Hey, I made you something. It's a little silly but... I want you to wear it all the time, okay? So that even when you're old and you can't remember your own name, you'll have a reminder that once upon a time, in middle school, we were best friends." He grinned as you showed him the blue friendship bracelet. He didn't even know you knew how to make them, but he admired your handiwork and held his wrist out for you to tie it on. It was only when you'd done so that he was the green heart you'd sewn onto it. "Not just in middle school," he reassured you, "just because we're going to different high schools doesn't mean I'll forget about you."

-

He'd been right, too. The two of you were in your third year now, and your friendship was as firm as ever. Of course, the different high schools situation had changed once Yumenosaki had opened up the producer course and you'd transferred (something you hadn't told him until you surprised him on your first day there), but even in your first year he'd cycled over to your house every night he had free. You'd always fussed over how he had the energy to do that, with how strenuous idol work can be, but he was insistent that you didn't worry about him too much. And now you were at Yumenosaki, he walked you home every day, just like he had in middle school. He was grateful for your ongoing presence in his life, but recently... He wanted things to change. Not in the sense that he didn't want you around anymore- as if he could ever want that- it was more like he wanted to see you more, if that was even possible.

He'd often catch himself thinking about you in a way he didn't know he could- about holding your hand or waking up next to you, about how nice it would be to be your boyfriend. It was bugging him endlessly. How could he fall in love with his best friend? That was something that belonged in slice of life manga and cheesy sitcoms, not real life. Not his life. Not when you had so many better options out there than him, when half the guys in your year were vying for your attention for less than professional reasons- and he knew that every one of them was likely better suited to you than he was. "Hey, what's on your mind?" Makoto nearly jumped out of his seat when you appeared next to  him, a concerned look on your face "O-oh! Nothings wrong, I'm fine." "I didn't ask if anything was wrong, doofus, but the fact that you answered like I did tells me you definitely just lied to my face. Cmon, out with it." "No really, I-I'm okay!" You frowned at him, pulling out the chair next to him and taking a seat. "When did you start hiding things from me?" "W-what?" "I feel like you don't tell me anything anymore... What happened to the Makoto who'd tell me everything, right down to how long it took you to eat your lunch? When did you stop wanting to share things with me?" You looked sad- heartbroken even- as you stared at your best friend. But that was just it. He'd always be your best friend, and nothing more. He'd thought he was okay with that, but he was beginning to realise he wasn't. "I don't know, I... I guess people just grow apart." He knew, the second he said it, that it was the wrong thing to say, and the tears pricking your eyes as you nodded and silently left the classroom confirmed it.

You didn't wait for him that evening. He arrived at the spot the two of you had used as a meeting place since you'd started at Yumenosaki and found nobody there. You didn't pick up when he called you, either, and the walk home was painfully silent without your company. He'd screwed up majorly, all because he couldn't stand to tell you he was in love with you. And he didn't know whether he'd be able to pick up the pieces or not.

But he knew he had to try.

This wasn't like him. Normally he'd call you before heading to your house, it was rude to drop by unannounced, but this time he didn't even think about it. (You'd likely not pick up anyway.) It wasn't until he turned onto your street that he even realised what he was doing, that he'd cycled all the way here without making a conscious choice to do so. Whether it was the fear of losing you forever or some miraculous bout of previously unfound confidence that saw him climbing the tree outside your window and knocking on it like some anime protagonist you guys would definitely make fun of together, he didn't know. All he knew was that when you opened the curtains you looked like you'd been crying- and that you shut them again the second you saw him. He slumped back on the branch he was sitting on, not ready to give up but feeling a little defeated, when he heard the door open below him.

"Makoto! What the hell are you doing up there?!" "I need to talk to you." "Ever heard of knocking?" "I didn't think you'd answer." "You could've tried!  Ugh, will you just get down from there, please? I'm having horrible visions of you with your head splattered on the sidewalk." He nodded and made his way out of the tree, trying not to think about how cute it was when you covered your eyes so you wouldn't have to see if he fell.

"I...I didn't mean what I said earlier." "I know." "You do?" "Yeah! I mean, come on. I know you better than anyone- if that was really how you felt you’d wanna talk about it, give me the reasons. You’re always so gentle with people, even when you don’t like them." "When you didn't walk home with me today I thought maybe I'd messed up beyond repair." "I was upset. Even if you didn't mean it, it hurt. And you've been so distant lately. I don't wanna lose you. Ever." "I don't wanna lose you either." The way you smiled at him warmed his heart, but your next words put a knife right through it. "Good. You're stuck with me as a best friend forever, whether you like it or not."

Makoto couldn't take it. He knew he wasn't good enough for you. You deserved a boyfriend who could sweep you off your feet, not some dork who's only romantic knowledge came from manga. But... even if it was unfounded, he had to have hope. He had to tell you how he felt.

"Y/N, look, I- I need to tell you something." "What is it?" "I-" The words stuck in his throat. You stared at him expectantly as he tried to get them out, but they wouldn't go, no matter how much he stuttered. Now was not the time for him to freak out and forget how to speak. He'd cycled over here and climbed a tree, for God's sake, and now he couldn't even say what he wanted to. He couldn't help but think that this was why you deserved better than him. "Makoto? Are you okay?" "Yes, I just-” He took a deep breath before finally blurting it out, so fast you could barely make out what he was saying. “I'm in love with you and I have been for like a year and I thought I could be okay with just being your best friend- and if you tell me to shut up and never talk about this again then I will, I'll be happy to be in your life in any capacity- but I knew I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try, you know? You're just so perfect and I know you deserve better than what I can offer you and it's so stupid for me to think I have a chance in hell but-" "Makoto!" "Y-yes?" "Will you shut the hell up and kiss me already?" "I- what?" "Oh, I have to do everything myself, don't I?" He was still processing what you'd said when you pulled him in for a kiss, cupping his face gently with your hands. It took him a minute to come to terms with the fact that you were kissing him, but eventually he settled his arms around your waist and melted into it. You pulled away abruptly when something cold and wet landed on your forehead, squinting up at the sky. As if the night hadn't played out enough like some cheesy romance film, snow began to fall around you.

"I probably should’ve worn a coat, huh..." "Oh my god, come inside before we both freeze to death!" "Will your parents be okay with that?" "Of course they will, it's you." You reached for his hand to pull him inside, but stopped when you noticed something. "Hey... you're still wearing the bracelet." "'Course I am. You told me to wear it all the time." You grinned up at him, giving him a soft peck on the lips. "I guess that heart means something different now, though." Makoto's real heart swelled in his chest. Being with you was... Well, it felt like something out of a fairytale, or one of those dreams that waking up from upsets you because it's not real. "Yeah. I guess it does."

[lightininglydia]

Illicit Affairs - Rafe Cameron

Summary: after months of sneaking around with Rafe it was getting harder and harder for you to do

Based off the song by Taylor Swift

WC: 1.6 k

Warnings: cheating, mentions of sex, slight swearing

Pairing: slight John b x reader, John b x Sarah Cameron, Rafe Cameron x reader

You didn't mean for this to happen.... no one ever means for it to happen but you had noticed how he looked at her.

He looked at her as if she was the only thing in the world.... he used to look at you that way but over the years the sparkle in his eyes every time he looked at you dwindled until it no longer existed.

Sarah Cameron, the kook princess , was the only one he had eyes for. You knew, he knew it... hell everyone knew it. John B just didn't seem to have the heart to break up with you. He soon began lying to you and sneaking off and you had a funny suspicion he was going to see her but you didn't care and you most certainly couldn't be one to judge.... not when there was Rafe.

Rafe Cameron.... you never thought in a million years you would have ended up cheating on your long term boyfriend with him but one night at a kegger you had caught John B holding hands with Sarah and you couldn't bare to stand the sight so you found yourself walking along the beach.

It's born from just one single glance

Your eyes met Rafe's and from there it was nothing but a downward spiral and complete mess if you were being honest.

It had started so beautifully, the two of you confided in each other during your late night hotel visits and everything felt perfect. A part of you felt bad about cheating on John B but then you would remember he was doing the same thing.

Rafe made you feel things no one else ever had. The way he touched you set you body on fire and left you at a loss for words. What was supposed to be a one time thing quickly turned into more and you found yourself consumed by the boy.

It dies and it dies and it dies a million little times

The beauty of the relationship quickly faded however and what had started in beautiful rooms ended with meetings in parking lots... both of you craving one another and needing a quick fix.

You couldn't count how many times you had lied to your friends... using the lame excuse that you were going for a run so they wouldn't question when you came back slightly disheveled and flushed. You used the roads less traveled by so you wouldn't get caught sneaking off to meet Rafe.

You would tell yourself that you didn't need this.... that you wanted it and could stop anytime you wanted but the truth was you couldn't. Rafe was like a drug as he consumed every aspect of your life and always left you wanting more and more. You craved him more than you craved anything and you found yourself purposely doing things to gain his attention.

At parties you would look longingly at him hoping no one would catch you. No one ever did... at least that's what you thought but truth be told a few people had seen the way you looked at Rafe. One of them being Sarah Cameron, she slowly began piecing things together. She saw the stolen stares between the two of you as they revealed the truth of what was going on. She didn't dare say a word to John B.... she couldn't judge you when she had done the same.

The three of you found yourself in a cycle of cheating and secrets. Sarah was cheating on Topper, you were cheating on John B and John B was cheating on you. The three of you were too cowardly to gain up the courage to break things off so you would simply continue these affairs.

That's the thing about illicit affairs

Affairs.... you knew what John B and Sarah had was much more than an affair. You longed for it to be that way for you and Rafe but it wasn't that simple. These clandestine meetings were nothing but sex and therapy for Rafe.... he trusted you and enjoyed how he made you feel but that was it. He could never love you.

You on the other hand had fallen for him... it was so easy to fall for him when he looked at you in the way he did. The sad part of it all was that you knew you weren't special and that Rafe looked at every girl like that. You had seen it first hand at a party months before this all began.

Rafe Cameron gives you this one look and you're putty in his hands. You so desperately wished that you hadn't fallen for him and his tricks as it put you in the position you were in right now. You had gone so far to buy a perfume just for him... you never wore it anywhere else in case one of his friends recognized the scent you had left behind in his car.

Like you don't even exist

You would sneak out of your house, making sure no one saw you leave. Your hood would be up to disguise yourself as you made your way to where you and Rafe normally met up.

You saw his truck parked in a dark corner of the parking lot and made your way over, taking a deep breath as you pulled open the door and climbed in.

You didn't even have a second to breathe as the moment you shut the door his lips were attached to your neck. You fought back a moan as you tried to pull away. You couldn't do this anymore.... you couldn't pretend you weren't in love with him.

A drug that only worked the first few hundred times

You couldn't go on like this... lying to your friends, to John B... to your family. It had to stop and you were the only one that could stop it.

" Rafe " you breathed out trying to get his attention

" we have to hurry " he muttered as he leaned forward again but you just pulled back

" What's with you tonight ( Y/N ) " Rafe huffed as he sat back in his seat feeling frustrated with you

" I can't do this anymore " you whispered

" what do you mean you can't do this anymore? Is it guilt? Do you think John B feels guilty he's fucking my sister behind your back? Do you think he cares about you ? " Rafe spat, the harshness of his words making you cringe

" No... this isn't about John B it's about us Rafe " You sighed

" Us? ( Y/N ) there is no us " he said harshly causing you to scoff

" Then what's this Rafe? What are we doing? " You asked

" hooking up... i mean you're a kid ( Y/N )! You're barely 18 and I'm 21 almost 22.... there is no us " he spat as he looked over at you. He noticed the tears falling down your face and in return his face softened. He didn't mean to make you cry in fact he didn’t ever want to make you cry. While he meant what he said a part of him still cared for you and didn’t want to see you walk out of this hurt.... that however seemed impossible at this point.

" Baby- " he started but you cut him off

" no don't do that Rafe! Don’t call me kid, don't call me baby! I mean look at me! I'm a mess oh my god I cheated on my boyfriend I've been lying to my friends and family just to be some meaningless hook up to you? " you exclaimed as you fought back tears

You showed me colours you know I can't see with anyone else

" ( Y/N ) you knew what you were signing up for! " he shouted feeling frustrated

Don't call me kid, don't call me baby

" Look at this idiotic fool that you made me! I really thought I meant something to you... I'm so fucking stupid " you spat wanting nothing more than to get out of the car and run... run and never ever look back.

" no you know what this is just as much your fault! If you weren't so desperate for attention we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place " he said, voice filled with venom and you broke. You couldn’t stop the sobs from falling from your mouth.... you felt broken and used and like no one truly cared for you. Like you didn’t matter.

Rafe's face softened once again as he looked at you, feeling a pang in his chest knowing what he was doing wasn't right. He knew he was using you for his own selfish needs because he didn't need to put up a front with you. He could be himself and you still wanted him but he didn't want you, not like that at least.

You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else

You didn't know what to do when he reached over and wrapped his arms around you. He whispered apologies in your ears, promising to do better. You knew that was lie... the two of you were stuck in a cycle that neither one of you dared to break. Both replying on each other for something. You also knew that you would never stop.... as long as he was willing to do this you would do it. You would let him string you along for as long as he wanted to... you would let him use you until there was nothing left to use. You knew it and he knew it.

You know damn well for you I would ruin myself

[norangeyyy]

Late post but here they are.

Y'all, meet the first 3 OCs i made from 2 years ago: Cho Bae-sun, Stellax Eclaire, and Maurice Lemieux 🌟🌻

(HCs and random stuff about these trio is under cut! I really just feel like writing about them since i have no one to talk to lmao)

Long post ahead!!

Cho Bae-sun

Age: 17

☀️ Bae-sun was the only child of a family wherein he was barely taken care of since he was little.

☀️ It all started when his mom married the wrong man and once he was born, his mom took him with her and ran away.

☀️ His dad being quite a powerful man, found them after 4 years and a fight for custody over little Bae-sun began.

☀️ After the constant feud between his parents and their families, they all finally came into an agreement that Bae-sun will live into two different homes for the rest of his childhood. Shortly after, his parents finally got divorced.

☀️ Though it didn't end there as when Bae-sun turned 8 years old, his mom and dad remarried and in just a few months, the old cycle of abuse came back.

☀️ This caused Bae-sun to grow old faster than he currently is after all the pain he shared with his lovesick mother. Going so far that he—a literal child—started giving his own mom advices about leaving his father.

☀️ But she couldn't because of many reasons, reasons who got her sentenced to prison when her son turned 12.

☀️ Bae-sun would later find out his father's history in the criminal world and how he accidentally sent his wife to jail by being too much of a coward to admit the murder he committed.

☀️ It didn't take long for regret to catch up to him and out of guilt, he tried to reconnect with his only son, only to be left to wither away by a 15 year old Bae-sun who already lost his faith on him.

☀️ Bae-sun became much more of a dedicated child than he already is so he can pursue the job of being a lawyer and serve justice for his mom which is unluckily for him, wasn't in fate's list of what is planned for him yet.

☀️ After being dragged by a couple of clueless peers into a nightclub, Bae-sun is yet to discover the secrets the latter holds when by the end of the night, he was bathing in the blood of his 'friends' and his life being the prize of the sick game they had to play to enter the one and only, Luene d' Solei.

☀️ A twisted part of the world buried deep within it, with the only entrance being the unsuspecting nightclub is what Luene d' Solei truly is. It is a realm where capable humans work together to balance humanity by deciding one's fate such as where a child would be born and how they will die as they grow old or if they ever will.

☀️ Bae-sun, who proved himself useful, was accepted into the organization and was given the job to be the executioner whether he likes it or not since there's no coming back now that ha has shed blood on his hands.

☀️ His normal life outside continued but when nighttime comes, he has to do as he was told by the order and use his blade against those on his list.

☀️ Though it wasn't just any normal assassinations, no, it couldn't even be called as such when all Bae-sun does is to shine the reflection of his ssangsudo to those who was listed to die.

☀️ And right there and then, what was decided for them will happen right before his eyes.

Stellax Eclaire

Age: 16

🌙 Eclaire is one of those unfortunate children who was taken away from their genuinely loving family by a snake.

🌙 She was left in Korea, far from where her parents are and was found by a kind old lady named Jang Min Daseul near a secluded pond that same day.

🌙 Since then, Eclaire grew in a simple home taken care of by that same woman, who happen to have fail to raise his son unlike with what she did with Stellax.

🌙 While she was growing up, Eclaire would often see the cold treatment Min Daseul got from her own child and swore to be there for her no matter what.

🌙 And though she was raised properly, Eclaire still turned to be too mischievous and callous at times.

🌙 She would sometimes play mean pranks on those who wronged her and would definitely curse out those she hates even on public, which gets her a flying shoe from Min Daseul everytime.

🌙 This was the same reason why she immediately got along with her uncle, Maurice Lemieux, who was Min Daseul's adopted son.

🌙 The two would often do silly things just to annoy their mother such as playing anime openings or any song in general way too loud. They'd usually get an earful but by the end of the day, they'll still be enjoying each other's company.

🌙 But unbeknownst to them was Min Daseul's nearing end.

🌙 At a sunny monday morning, the same day where a new student was introduced to Eclaire's class, the call that broke the girl into tears came.

🌙 From then on, knowing that Min Daseul's biological son wouldn't even bat an eye on her, Eclaire was taken to Maurice's home where she'll now live until she's able to afford an apartment of her own.

🌙 Not wanting to be too much of a burden for her uncle, Eclaire started to look for jobs behind his back so she could surprise him.

🌙 Luckily, the new student knows a thing or two about jobs and instantly, Eclaire was hooked. She was then told to bring a couple of people she hates for that night and although confused, Eclaire did as she was told.

🌙 Her eyes almost bulged out of its sockets seeing where they were led by none other than the boy named Bae-sun himself. Only if she knew what was coming to her...

Maurice Lemieux

Age: 33

🌟 Maurice is the son of Min Daseul's half sister who early on died as she gave birth, leaving Min Daseul the responsibility to raise him as his father's whereabouts are still unknown.

🌟 Maurice soon became the eldest child when after just 2 years, Min Daseul birthed her first child.

🌟 Unlike his younger brother, Maurice grew up to be a loving and thoughtful son even when he ended up in a place he shouldn't be standing on back when he turned 19.

🌟 So he knows what exactly Luene d' Solei is as he was working there for almost his entire adulthood.

🌟 Which is why this man almost had a heart attack hearing his niece's name going around the realm.

🌟 He immediately rushed to where she is and if it weren't for the guards around, Bae-sun would already be dead. Fortunately for the young man, all he got was a kick in where the sun doesn't shine so bye bye babies.

🌟 He's now both the cool uncle that will rap Nicki Minaj's Super Bass with you and the overprotective dad that will give you clothes made by the church.

🌟 Also, he's not a stripper by the way, i just wanted to practice anatomy and accidentally took it too far and created Maurice.

🌟 And yes, he's single 👁️ but plans to grow old as that one rich uncle who travels the world in Gucci instead of having kids and getting married.

Fun facts:

• All the characters(not from jjba itself) and part of the plot of my books from Wattpad actually belong to/with these three so yeah, i made those books because i wanna practice my writing skills before jumping to a whole story i entirely made and is not a fanfic :>>

• That's why these OCs have names and stuff that are heavily tied with astrology shit just like my books (I didn't even got to that point of story ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

• Don't worry tho, if i ever came back to writing in Wattpad or writing in general, i wouldn't include these three since they're the protagonists of their own world and they wouldn't just fit in with the story.

• Btw, this whole AU is inspired by Vento Aureo and a bit of Harry Potter (Didn't see that one coming didn't you ツ)

[ezpezlemonsquez]

Okay, so I've heard about that theory in which princess Yue was to be the Avatar but since Aang hadn't died but just had frozen himself, the cycle was somehow broken and that's why Yue was born so weak and had to be saved by the Moon Spirit. This actually gave me a fanfiction idea, so

in this concept Yue is Sokka and Suki's child, as Lu Ten is Mai and Zuko's. They spend a bit of their vacation at their houses in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se. Everything is peaceful. Everything is fine.

***

Lu Ten was screaming. He didn't have any control over his body, needless to say, his mind. He just wanted it to be over. Suddenly, he felt a gentle tug on his shoulder and he shuddered. Then he felt the second tug, a little bit more intense than the previous one.

"Lu" said someone with a really soft voice. "Lu, wake up."

So Lu Ten screamed for the last time and this time he immediately woke up and sat up on his bed. He was panting heavily, the sweat dripping off his body. At first he couldn't see anything. Only after a few breaths was his vision slowly getting better.

"Everything's alright, Lu." The same voice rang out again, finally letting Lu Ten fully get back to reality. It was kind of like his anchor and though he had sometimes heard it in his dreams, it had never been so clear before. Lu Ten blinked and he realised why this time it was different.

"Yue" he whispered and lied down again, utterly exhausted, as he saw his beautiful friend right in front of him. Her dark brown hair tickled his face when she leaned towards him to make sure he's awake. For real now. Lu Ten took one last deep breath and got up from the bed. He walked to the table and drank some water he'd prepared himself in a cup. The rest of it he spilled on his head. Yue came up to him and gently touched his shoulder.

"Everything alright?" she asked caringly. He nodded.

"Yeah" he answered, not being completely sure if he reassured her, or himself. "Yeah, everything's fine, it was just, uhm..."

Yue raised her eyebrow.

"A nightmare?"

"No, no, I don't have nightmares, no." He forced a laugh.

"Right" snorted Yue. "You know, you may be one really powerful firebender but that doesn't make you any truthbender."

"You say so?"

"I literally heard you screaming, Lu Ten. I woke you up."

The boy shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe you needed something?" he suggested and he suddenly realised something. "Wait a second, why were you even here?"

Yue seemed a bit confused for a moment.

"Uhm, I heard your scream" she answered finally, trying to be convincing. "I walked in to make sure you're not in any trouble. As always."

"Very funny, Yu. You were saying something about being a truthbender...?" he said, as if he was wondering.

"Excuse me, I'm the daughter of Sokka and Suki, I was basically born with the power of truthbending. Gotta have a talent, you know?" she said jokingly, throwing her hair behind her back.

"Yeah, of course. Come on, Yue, what were you doing outside this late?" He nudged her teasingly. "Perhaps a date or something? You know, holiday fling?" He insinuated, while feeling a bit of jealousy that she actually might have confirmed.

"I wish." She winced. "I... I was, uhm, kind of having nightmares myself" she admitted finally. "I woke up and I decided to take a walk. Moon soothes me."

Lu Ten's face changed immediately.

"Yue, I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine, really. Now come, you want to take a walk with me?" She held out the hand to him. He smiled.

"Sure. Let me just put on some shirt."

She nodded. After a while, they were walking by calm, peaceful streets of the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se. Neither of them was saying anything, they just walked silently, hand in hand, being happy of each other's presence. They stopped at the fountain. It was a clear, warm night, so they took off their shoes and sat down, letting their feet dip into water. They were sitting silently until Lu Ten spoke up.

"It's a beautiful moon."

Yue smiled.

"Yeah, it really is. You know, my dad used to tell me the history of a girl from the Northern Water Tribe. She was a princess, actually. She was beautiful, and kind, and very brave, because when the time came, she was ready to sacrifice her life to become the Moon Spirit. I was named Yue after her."

"Did your parents know her?"

"My dad, yeah. They seemed to have been pretty close, you should've heard how he talked about her."

"Yeah, listen, from what I've been told, you should've seen my granduncle's face when my parents told him I was gonna be named after his son. Apparently, he cried so much. My father told not once that it was the least he could do for him for... well, everything."

"General Iroh was more like a father to your dad than Ozai, wasn't he?"

"He was." Lu Ten nodded. "He still is."

Yue looked up at the moon, thinking.

"You want to tell me about this nightmare that's bothering you?" asked Lu Ten softly. Yue sighed.

"This dream it... It comes back to me every full moon. But please, don't laugh, okay?" She looked at him pleadingly, with a weak smile.

"I won't, I promise."

"Okay, so, in this dream... I am about to become the Avatar. I can feel it's a great power, so I'm preparing myself to take it in. I'm waiting and waiting and it exhausts me but I reassure myself that once I take in the Avatar's powers, all my strengths will come back to me three times as great. And suddenly, something happens. Light blinds me, but no new strengths came. Instead, I'm just getting weaker and weaker. I don't know what's happening, but I can barely breathe. It's like, the circle has been broken and I don't know what to do. I try to scream but I can't even open my mouth. It's... it's horrifying." Tears appeared in Yue's eyes. She lowered her voice to whisper and she just looked at her hands. "I'm dying" she said barely audibly. Lu Ten didn't say anything. He took her hand and gently stroked it. He wanted to remind her she didn't have to be scared, because he was there. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

"Anyway" she said after a while, when she managed to collect herself. "That's when I wake up." She looked at him with a sour smile. "Every time. No sooner, no later. I don't know what it means, so."

"Have you told about it anyone?" he asked, moving closer to her. She laughed quietly.

"No, absolutely not. And I forbid you to."

"Okay, no worries, just... I want to help you."

"I know, but please, don't tell anyone. I'll manage. So, you wanna share your dream now?" she asked immediately, trying to escape from the uncomfortable subject. Lu Ten let go of Yue's hand and smiled sourly.

"My dream is strictly connected with this city" he started. "I'm in Ba Sing Se but this isn't, you know, our Ba Sing Se. I'm in the Fire Nation's Army uniform. I have my own unit under command. It isn't big but I feel like it's great anyway. I know I trust these people. And suddenly, we begin to fight. At first, we win. We're going further and further into the town and I feel I'm on a tear, so I don't stop. Somebody's shouting my name but I ignore it. I run and I fight. I shout I don't need any more people, I'm calling off the reinforcements. Everything's great. But then I'm trapped. Earthbenders, more than I can possibly take, surround me. It's just me, my whole unit has suddenly disappeared. I try to fight them but I can't hold off them all. Nevertheless, I don't call for help. I just... try to take down these people. They're an obstacle. Someone shoots me, so I scream. I feel warmth of my blood. My vision blurs. I give more shots, and I get the same amount at me. Finally, I collapse. In my head there's just granduncle's song. It bores into my mind, I can't think of anything else, I can't hear anything but this song. It's more powerful than any thought, any sound I try to focus on. It hurts more than my wounds. So I scream. And I scream again and again, until I can't scream anymore." He looked at Yue seriously. "I'm dying, too" he whispered. Yue didn't say anything. She just moved closer and hugged him. He hugged her even tighter. The tears started to fall down their cheeks. They were both crying, because that felt like the only right thing to do.

"Don't tell anyone" whispered Lu Ten after a while.

"I won't" promised Yue.

They sat there, hugging each other, for a long time. They barely moved. Then Lu Ten cleared his throat and slightly moved away.

"We should go back home."

Yue nodded, sniffling.

"Yeah. Yeah, we should."

"I bet granduncle Iroh could make us some soothing tea, if you'd like."

"I would love to, but tomorrow, okay? We'll go to The Jasmine Dragon."

"Okay. Come on, I'll walk you." He held out his hand. Yue took it without hesitation.

"Thanks" she said quietly, smiling weakly. They didn't talk on their way back home. They really didn't feel like it. When they arrived at Yue's home, she hesitated.

"What is it?" asked Lu Ten.

"Actually... uhm..." She looked at him awkwardly, then she shook her head. "You know what, never mind."

"No, tell me, what's wrong?"

"I was gonna ask you, since I won't be getting much sleep tonight, if you wanted to keep me company" she admitted, smiling. "But then I figured you'd probably want to catch even a few hours of sleep."

"Actually, no, not at all. And I'd rather sit silently with you than alone, so." He smiled. "I would love to keep you company."

She looked at him gratefully and open the door. They sat on the carpet, near each other, trying not to fall asleep. But after a while they didn't even realise they did. They were sitting, leaning back against the wall, Yue's head resting on Lu Ten's shoulder and his head resting on hers. And when they were together, no more nightmares bothered either of them that night.

[vagabondpainter-blog]

Catching up

It all is so far away now, counted as well in days as in weeks, in kilometers, in miles or in impressions, in encounters and insights, or measured by fruitless attempts to write this blog.

To catch up while still keeping this Text readable, I will shorten things, I will have to be unjust.

The people I met, friends I visited, friends I found, even strangers who gave advice or help before quickly disappearing again along the ever winding road, they all deserved more words of gratitude, the landscapes I've seen, the early morning mists, birdsong, rough hills and gentle streams, they are all worthy of poems, paintings, and some day hopefully I will find the rest to praise them rightly.

And about people, about friends: I will not talk in depth about them here, maybe some of the closest not even talk about at all or just mention briefly. That is because trust and friendship are sacred, I don't want anyone to have to worry about being displayed and evaluated here, or conversations being put on public display. That's why my tale will sound probably egocentric at times. Besides some points I take out of conversations I'm determined to keep this a blog only about the experiences and lessons I came across, to share and hopefully inspire, but leave people their privacy.

So informations about others I'll keep vague and brief except for some relevant points now and then if they are required as context.

For now it's these fragments, learned lessons and impressions:

1] The Kindness Of Strangers

The boat leaves in the late afternoon, yet I'm here already. It wasn't easy to say goodbye to friends. Its the moment when you painfully realize what you leave behind before you find the courage to let things go and to jump into an uncertain future. I'm grateful that there have been friends to be missed, friends waving when I left and many people, places and memories to cherish, so rather say 'Thank you' than 'Good bye'.

Now I'm here, not sure how to store a bicycle on the ferry, what to do and where to go. A fellow cyclist reassures me that everything will be ok and shows how to secure the bicycle before we part and enter the huts.

It is a smooth sailing on calm waters. I take position on the south side and watch, watch how Ijmuiden floats away, see Zandvoort passing in the distance, let memories rise out of the parting waves until much later the last dim reflection of the sun is swallowed by the darkness of the water.

Next morning I watch the sunrise from the front-deck before later slowly the shore of Britain appears on the horizon.

Back in the belly of the ship, bicycle is packed and we wait for permission to get on land. My fellow cyclist is here again and we find out that we worked in the same field, be it in different positions, until lately when I quit my job. Healthcare in general, and psychiatry in particular seems to struggle with the same problems on both sides of the water- lack of resources combined with an abundance of expectations and many self-declared specialists eagerly waiting on the sidelines to tell you how exactly you should do your job. I don't regret my step.

Soon we change the subject, talk about more uplifting things, like freedom, travels, cycling and living life.

I'm glad he offers to accompany me for the first few miles, show me the way and help me get accustomed to cycling on the left side of the road.

While traveling the shore, he realizes that my journey later would take me along the A1, the most dangerous and deadly road of Britain. Plans change and a bit later I find myself in a nice cozy house, greeted by a friendly dog. The family is gathered now, they brought dutch scones and there I am, arrived in Britain, eating dutch bread and being made welcome.. and grateful.

Later they even offer me a lift along the A1 so I can continue my journey quite a few miles north on a safe bicycle path.

Actually- actually I made a promise to myself when I gave up my home- to leave every place I visit a little bit nicer, tidier or kinder then I found it, be it a small bit within my powers only.

Yet here I am, receiving all this kindness and struggling to find a way to give a tiny thing at least.

A small contribution I might be able to make after all- the lady of the house is an artist and I hope to come back and spend some time, exchanging tips and knowledge about painting.

It won't really be able to repay the welcome, they didn't know how much it meant- this first encounter on the new path, a sense of home in the world out there.

2] Of Hunters, Vegans, Spiders, Flies, and Shamans too

For my first working assignment I arrive one or two days late.

The bicycle paths in Britain are made for leisure, not for means of transportation, to get from A to B, you sometimes get sent along the beautiful yet rough and rocky road uphill through E to G.

In the morning my host comes to town to give me a lift uphill so I don't need to climb up to the cottage. We soon find out a difference in lifestyle, that either might lead to conflict or to very interesting talks-

While I myself took up a vow years ago to restrain from eating or even using animal products, he is an outspoken and passionate hunter and skillful hunting guide.

Greeted by a friendly dog and a flock of even friendlier chickens I put up my hammock next to a cottage that has seen many years, some of them hard, now regaining its beauty under its tenants committed work.

Not only the growing vegetables outside provide some common ground to get along, we soon find out, as the Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh once said: “If you wish to be understood, you should listen very carefully”

I put aside any prejudice and get a chance to actually learn- a hunter may just as much care about nature and all life in it as the convinced vegan.. not every hunter of course, some are in it for profit just as some vegans are in it for pride.

Those others, those on both sides who actually do care, more and more appear to me as devoted parents arguing about the best cure for their sick child. Later I will briefly encounter a native American shaman and will have to realize that those revered ancient cultures are hunters too.

And when I rescue a little spider after that the other day, it strikes me, how many other insects I might have sent to certain death by saving this one predator...

In the end it seems that our technological power has by far outgrown our human wisdom and it's estrangement from nature what deceives us to take extreme positions- on one side some are abusing sensible, breathing, childbearing live as if it where an industrial product, which makes us a parasite in the organs of life, while on the other side we might not interfere when necessary and so get complicit in catastrophes out of fear of causing individual harm, which is neglect of our responsibilities as intelligent life form.

Life is sustained by devouring itself in any form. In the complex web of interdependence I will continue to avoid harm, but I also learned to judge less those who are willing to intervene, it's the caring about nature, the respecting of life and the willingness to learn about them, what defines whether our actions are righteous and wise, there is not one answer that fits all circumstances.

3] Anam Cara

The path up north led me through the green hills of a land where all the places sound like echoes of long forgotten songs and ancient tales.

Shelters where ready, arranged by friends of a friend, all without expecting anything in return, just out of kindness, setup in beautiful places, the shore of a river, a comfortable trailer in a wide meadow with view on the distant chain of snowy hills, hosts welcoming the traveler, helping and showing me around, and I had to learn that sometimes all one has to offer in return is humble gratitude.

What a strange and beautiful paradise waits in the hills behind Inverness. Anam Cara is the retreat center I work and paint for here.

Lodges and huts are made of timber, stone, from large barrels and from caravans..

I sometimes get lost on the terrain, nothing here is put in a straight line, everything has grown naturally accordingly to the apparent conditions at the time.

It's a place just like its founders and inhabitants, a marriage of Buddhist Dharma and shamanic teachings, enforcing and helping each other by aiming at the same goal from different angles in perfect eclectic harmony.

4] Of Tunnels and Light

At Scottish Borders it is. We follow the shore along the stream, up in the hills, where a long abandoned railroad left its trail, and a tunnel between the trees.

Here, our kind host and guide tells us, many found an experience of transformation.

On a dark day in his life he decided for the first time to go inside.

With the courage of despair he had entered and faced inside this darkness that other darkness which at the time needed to be released. On the other side of the tunnel the light that welcomed him brought the beginning of the change to the better.

We are glad he 's willing to share the experience and I opt for walking first.

Beforehand it all sounded quite easy, just going inside the darkness alone without light and walking through, blindly, until the eyes capture a dim light from the other side.

Now in front of the big black hole amongst the green I doubt for a moment whether I really want to go in.

Threads of fog, hovering at the entrance, weave a mystical web. A chilly breeze greets me as if it where the breath of the earth.

One of the dogs accompanied me on my first steps towards the huge mouth that will swallow me in a moment, and for some time I have the impression the dog is still with me in the dark. I hear my own footsteps and feel this other presence right behind me. Later I learn the dog left me at the entrance already...

Once the darkness surrounds me completely and I should probably feel lost in the void, a deep calm sense of serene silence comes over me, a trust that whatever happens here, is supposed to be and is just perfect as it is. I wander in the timeless spaciousness, listening to my ever slower footsteps.

There is no hurry, no need anymore to get anywhere. While the feet calmly keep going I suddenly loose all intention to either stay or leave. Everything is just about now and now is exactly, perfectly well as it has to be.

Maybe due to a lack of external input, the sense of self dissolves into the black empty space and only a floating undefined feeling of wideness and joy vibrates on.

The first glimpse of light some time later doesn't seduce me to rush, I could just as well stay here, in this very moment for eternity, yet I keep moving.

Never thought the greens of the trees and the grasses, the gentle mos could look as vibrant and intense as they appear while I leave the tunnel. It rather seems, I'm watching the surroundings steadily passing by, then moving myself.

I enjoy the forest with a joy I haven't known so far- like a child looking at trees and clouds and pebbles for the first time ever. I keep walking and keep looking, perceiving without judgment, without naming, without wanting, only looking, smelling, listening, just sensing the stream of impressions calmly arising and taking course.

And I know that nothing ever will be the same, also know now that nothing ever has been the same before. It's freedom to ride on the stream of ever changing appearances without grasping or rejecting, I heard of that, I knew it, could have said these words any time, yet now the tunnel showed that truth in a way, so that I actually could see it too .

5] What is Home?

Back in the Netherlands, coming home from being home, not sure how and why I would deserve this. It must be a natural human kindness I didn't notice before that strongly. Now when I need it, there are friends to let me stay in their place, people offering shelter without expecting anything. I visit friends, I'm humbled and touched by all generosity, and I suspect I might know now, why in some lineages Buddhist monks are obliged to beg for their food- it's only when you depend on others in a way, that you get a chance to realize that, contrary to what the news might tell, human is in essence a very kind and giving being.

I have, for now, just to practice in gratitude to hopefully some day be able to give back.

6] Cow-dung is not Bullshit

Cycling in Germany is a challenge, most roads are forbidden for cyclists, they send you along long winding tracks and don't care to close a path without alternative.

After days of sweating under threatening thunderclouds, in heat, having my navigation gone with the broken phone, getting lost in unknown places, climbing hills without knowing where I am and how to get on, I arrive, days late again.

Now I work at the Schwäbische Alb, there's a small Village on top of a hill and I live here, take care of the garden and paint the portals, just paint, nothing artsy :) but besides being invited to feel at home and greatly being cared for, its my first real encounter with alternative building and painting materials what makes it extra special to be here.

The paint is the etching, burning, kind of chalk that was used for centuries here, but the main lesson is a little building project inside the large shed, a storage room made from clay and dry cow-dung.

I learn from mistakes and from what went well, getting an idea to – one day, some day, after the journeys – maybe build my own alternative home based on experiences and learning ahead.

7] The naked Truth

One more fragment, one I doubted if it was ok to tell, but decided that it should not matter if people think I'm weird, I'm a fifty years old guy giving up a comfortable stable life to cycle around and work without predictable income, not even a pension-plan. I AM weird probably and as long as no one gets hurt I'm free to be as strange as I choose to be.

It's the evening of a hard and hot day, the sun burned my skin dark red and any sweat from cycling uphill dried quickly without cooling me off. I finally find a great spot to spend the night, near a small town or village, but out in the green, well hidden and comfortable.

Before I rest I need to refill my water-supplies and rehydrate myself, also the new used phone I was lucky to receive, does act up, the batteries run quickly, didn't recharge anymore and I want to give it one more try.

It's good as well, to check the vibes of the area, to know the territory and get familiar with the place.

So instead of getting ready for the night I enter the place for a drink and general recharging in the local pizzeria. I'm the only customer inside. The friendly owner refills the bottles and tries to help me with the phone. After a tough day through the hills in merciless heat I enjoy talking to someone before I get back out into the fields. Yet when I tell about the travels and my new life, he offers me to seek shelter at the small terrace next to the house where the guests sit in daytime. It's right at the fairly busy street, surrounded by houses and I'd like my first shelter more, but there are two good reasons to gratefully except the offer- one, it is an act of kindness and that counts more then comfort, two, I slept in fields and woods, in trailers, tents and under bridges, but never in the open air in the middle of a town.

So I set up my shelter, sleeping bag as isolation and the raintarp as cover on one side tied to the fence, the other attached to the bicycle.

A thin tarp provides the illusion of privacy and I lay down in the noise of passing cars and voices on the street.

Now the overheated body starts boiling and burning, however I move or turn, a layer of inescapable

fire keeps me awake. Everything I wear sticks to the skin. Half asleep and half in fever I guess, I remove it all.

A gentle nightly breeze cools me off and sings me to sleep. While I see the stars through the fence it occurs to me, that whoever would find me here, would think I was drunk or crazy. Laying there amongst all cozy houses, bare and naked, not showered for days, hair and beard growing wildly I have finally become a drifter.

And then the image comes before my minds eye, of me laying there, bare of any sign of social status or role, looking like an abandoned corpse, but there is no shame, no fear, only deep calm peace and freedom.

That takes me back into the tunnel. It's the same sense of serenity, nothing to achieve, nothing to loose, nothing to be done, only being.

I will loose this peace of mind again on several occasions, when the wind stands against me, when I loose direction, when I set up goals, but there are more and more times of this deep relaxing equanimity, the acceptance of whatever might be.

[bosstoaster]

Gosh, I didn't even get twenty-five percent down list. Anyway, here are two prompts. 15. “I made your favorite.” for Hunk and Lance, gen, please. Or 16. “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.” for Shiro and Lance, also gen. Obviously you don't have to do either if you don't want to. Thank you for considering!

It’s the 1000 Followers Special!  Based on these prompts.  Prompts are now closed.  Don’t want to see all 35 of these?  Block ‘1000 Followers Special’.  Can’t read on mobile?  These will slowly be posted to AO3 starting in a few days as ‘Hold Up Half the Sky’.  A huge thank you to Xagrok for the beta’ing!

(Shockingly, I picked the Shiro one)

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Lance jolted, nearly losing his balance and falling over.  Impressive, given that he was sitting, but he’d been resting all of his weight on his braced arms.  Turning, Lance saw Shiro in the doorway, one hand resting on the frame.

Shit.  Caught.

Lance shrugged elaborately, going for casual.  “I’m restless still,” he replied airily.  “Figured I’d mess around with something until I was ready for bed.  Get around all that energy from our awesome fight.”

Stepping over, Shiro nodded, not looking down at where Lance sat.  “I see.”  He glanced over the projected star map in front of Lance, depicting a very specific solar system, then looked back down.

Lance tried not to squirm.  He didn’t really manage.

(Read More Below)

“I wanted to know how much information the Alteans had on Earth,” Lance replied, still trying for that flip tone.  “Figured it’d be a good way to spend ten minutes.”

Shiro let out a slow breath, then sat down next to him.  “Lance.  It’s okay.  I couldn’t sleep either.”  He flopped out, legs stretching out ahead of him and crossed at the ankle, weight braced on his palms.  It was no doubt consciously chosen, casual to get Lance to relax.

It was working.  Slowly, Lance unwound, arms dropping into his lap and shoulders slumping.  “Yeah.”  He took a deep breath, dropping his own put on expression and instead staring at the little projection of Earth, lit up in pale blues and teals.  “Ten thousand years wrong.”

Nodding, Shiro tilted his head.  “It’s strange, sometimes, to remember that Alteans have been gone for longer than there’s been known human civilization.”  It was a strange thought, and an angle Lance hadn’t been thinking about at the moment - he’d mostly been sad he was looking at an Earth that didn’t have his family.  “I wonder if we could update it.”

“Well, we can get Pidge’s laptop,” Lance replied.  “She might have some pictures of Earth.  Or there’s probably some movies that have it.”

Shiro hummed thoughtfully.  “Well, we could do that, but I was thinking something else.  One second.”  He pushed himself up to his feet, then dug through the storage compartments near the console.  Eventually, he pulled out a couple of the headbands they used for training with Voltron, and dropped one on Lance’s head.  As he sat, he pulled on one of his own.  

Lance straightened his, rather than the crooked lean that had covered one of his ears.  “You want to share memories of it?”

“Well, yes, but not with each other.  With the computer.”  Shiro closed his eyes, brow furrowed, and a flickering image over the projection of Earth.  It looked like a floating picture rather than a hologram, with cloud cover looping over the few moments, until the image stilled like a photograph.

Brows up, Lance leaned forward.  “You remember all those details like that?”

Shiro cracked a grin.  “Of Earth in general?  Not really.  Of this moment?  Yes.”  He glanced sideways at Lance, gaze warm.  “This is what Earth looked like when we left for Kerberos.”

“You-” Lance’s mouth fell open, and he stared at the still image in new appreciation.  “Oh.”

“But it’s only part of the picture,” Shiro replied softly.  “Help me out?”

Oh.  Closing his eyes, Lance concentrated on the maps he’d studied in the past.  He’d always liked sailing, and there had been a brief period where is dreams of being a pilot had been interrupted by his dreams of being a sailor (or, okay, a pirate, but not a mean one.  Just a cool one with a badass jacket).  He’d spent those few months obsessed with maps of Earth, plotting out his courses, and with the headband on it all came to mind easily.  

Using the detail from both Shiro’s memory and their own knowledge, the computer seemed to fill in the rest.  The clouds disappeared from Shiro’s side, replaced with complete geographic information of the area below.

It was a couple of years old still, but geographically speaking, that was nothing.  Even that ten thousand year gap wasn’t much for a planet: it had just been too much for Lance.

Now it was much better.

“Good job,” Shiro told him, voice soft, and Lance grinned back.

“It doesn’t get bigger than this, though,” he said.  “Maybe if we isolated the planet and pulled it into its own program, but this is as far as it zooms.  It still has the rest of the universe loaded up and that’s too much detail.”

Shiro hummed thoughtfully.  “Mind if I try something?”  When Lance nodded, Shiro scooted closer until their shoulders were pressed together, and then he waved his hand.  Everything but the nearer clusters of stars and the Earth dimmed, including the console and the lights on the wall.  Then he tilted his head, and a shadow cast over the lower half of Earth, while the cloud cover appeared again.  Then it shrunk slightly, looking farther away.

Lance bit off a protest, though his hands twitched in his lap.  He had no idea what Shiro was trying to accomplish from making Earth harder to see, but he trusted Shiro had a plan, anyway.

“Okay, that should do it.”  Shiro nodded contentedly.  Earth sat like a marble in front of them, details visible but tiny and hard to make out, especially when half of it was in darkness.  Lance glanced at Shiro in question.  “This is the best I can do for the view from the moon.”

From the-

Oh.

“Have you been, or is this from photographs?” Lance asked, because he needed to say something while he processed this.

Shiro leaned in closer, his shoulder heavy and warm against Lance’s.  “I was there.  Just for a supply run, it was barely two hours.  I had enough time to run out to the landing site, take a picture, then head back out.  It wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would be.  Most of the place is filled with those awful tourist attractions for people who are way too rich but don’t want to commit to a Mars trip.  The light pollution is getting to be a problem, too.”  He seemed to start, catching himself mid rant, and he nudged their shoulders together.  “But the moon once felt impossibly far away too, and humanity figured out how to get there and back all the time.  So maybe it’s not so far away after all.”

Closing his eyes hard, Lance nodded.  “Maybe not,” he agreed, his voice coming out strangled.  Before he could do more than wince, Shiro’s arm came around his shoulders, and he leaned into the embrace.  Lance pressed his face into Shiro’s shoulder and grabbed at his shirt.  “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Shiro replied softly.

It was much easier to cry in the quiet and the dark.  That had originally been the reason Lance left.  He didn’t want to cry.  It felt gross and he wanted to be strong.

But with Shiro there it didn’t feel quite so bad.

What felt like a moment later, Lance blinked his eyes open to the artificial light of the daily cycle.  His head still felt stuffed up, but he was laying down on top of his bed, shoes and jacket off.  The console next to his bed blinked cheerfully at him, and Lance reached over to bat at it sleepily until it projected the message.

“They’d be proud of you,” it read, in Shiro’s choppy, ugly scrawl.  He must have written it out on the console when he put Lance to bed.  “If you want to do that again another night, just knock on my door.”

Then under that, in smaller writing and quotes, there was another line.  “Consider again that dot.  That’s here.  That’s home.  That’s us. [...] on a mote of dust suspended on a sunbeam.  -Carl Sagan”

Covering his eyes to keep them from tearing up again, Lance managed a trembling smile.  

“You dork.”

When he repeated that to Shiro later, he only got a smile.