#don't let me down fic

[itsprashimusic]

Don't Let Me Down

Summary - You loved him, really. But in the end loving him was more like your poison than your antidote.

Pairings - ex!Harry Styles x singer!Reader

Warnings - suicidal thoughts, mentions of wanting to die, ANGST, failed relationship, cuss words, using a real-life singer's songs for this fic, death of parents, absent partner, Harry is an asshole at the end (he threw things at reader), not entirely proofread Happy reading🩵

Word Count - 4.5k

A/N - reader is female but can also be read as gender neutral. suicidal part will be labeled with (💔) for those who want to skip it.

flashbacks are in italics

also please reblog this, i spent a lot of time on it and reblogging it with tags would really mean a lot to me. love you❤️

You were getting ready for you first live concert in months. The familiar rush of adrenaline was coursing through your body. The type that only comes when you are performing. This was probably one of the best parts of your job as a singer. The better parts are probably the free items people give you just because you are a celebrity. The bad worse parts are definitely the paparazzi and publicity of everything in and about your life.

Your fans were wanting more music, and so that is what you gave them. A few months earlier you released an album. A lot of fans were expecting maybe some love songs surrounding your rumored relationship with famed singer and actor, Harry Styles.

You kept your personal life hidden from public view. But still they always were trying to guess who the current 'man in your claws' was. This time it was Harry Styles, but it was true. You and Harry had been dating for nearly 3 years.

Key word: had

You both had broken up. You weren't sure who broke up with who, but one thing was clear, it was not mutual. It was messy, very messy. Your house looked like a tornado went through it twice and again. Things were thrown, hurtful false accusations were thrown around, when you called him out on his bullshit, he just gave you another lame excuse as to how it was your fault for that specific flaw of his, you get the idea it was just a bad break up.

Fans around the world mourned your break-up, even though no official statement was given by either of you for almost 3 months post the breakup.

It has been nearly a year since your breakup, and you are just barely over the breakup. You admit it, you really did love Harry. He was the world for you. In the back of your closet sat a little box with a simple gold band resting in it, waiting to be worn by your life partner. You had a date planned out on which you would propose to him, two days after your break-up.

The part that hurt the most was knowing that he would've said yes, if things were fine in your relationship.

You stood in your dressing room. Being finished with your warmups, you stood, simply doing nothing. You just stared at yourself in the mirror. It was your supposed to be your largest tour. So of course, your nerves were on edge. You were standing in your dressing room, clutching the table with a grip so hard even you were surprised by it. You knew you were not doing well. A lot of the people around you even pointed out you looked unwell. You started feeling nauseous.

You were aware it was coming, the panic attack. Breathing became a bit difficult. You knew there was only one thing that would calm you down. A person to be more specific. Little did you know that this very person who could calm you down was rushing through the corridors, pushing people aside, just to find you. He knew that you would be having a panic attack.

Just as you were about to fall down, the door to your dressing room broke open revealing your boyfriend. He ran in enveloping you into a hug, hiding both your view of the others in your dressing room and their view of you, a gesture you were grateful for. One arm around your back, the other around the back of your head.

"It's ok darling, I'm here now." he said, his voice making things better, his deep soothing voice. He gestured for the others to leave the room so that the two of you would be alone. They left and shut the door giving the two of your privacy. You and Harry just stood there, him hugging you. You knew eventually you'd have to go out and perform, but for now just standing there felt right.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you could see the tears forming in your eyes. This would be your first concert in a long time, and you wanted it to be one of your best. You remember that one concert, it was the best. The type that everyone remembers, has countless edits of, even years later, that kind.

You looked at the clock. 10 minutes. You stared yourself down in the mirror. 9 minutes. You paced up and down doing your warmups. 8 minutes. You nervously sipped water from a bottle. 7 minutes. You were called outside to get your earpiece put in. 6 minutes. Your hands were getting sweaty, so you rubbed them against yourself. 5 minutes. The earpiece is in and working. 4 minutes. You could hear the crowd waiting for you to make your entrance. 3 minutes. You and your backup dancers huddled up together. 2 minutes. You made your way to where you were supposed to come out from. 1 minute. You clutched the tissue paper that you took from the dressing room. You clutched it hard, knowing that the last time you were up on stage it was someone's hand instead of a piece of somewhat soft paper. 10 seconds. You got your cue and could hear the intro music playing and the smoke machines going off. And from then on everything felt like a dream but even through the performances, your mind was somewhere else. Harry.

It was oddly quiet in his house. Normally there was some type of noise, whether it was the heater, AC or just some new air purifier he found and thought you might like. Your keys jingled while you were unlocking the front door to Harry's house. He said he would be meeting you here and so you didn't expect anyone to be at home.

But little did you know Harry was standing behind the door waiting for you to come. He saw your car pull up below the building. He had a surprise that he wanted to share with you first. Just as the door swinged open the lights turned on and a bunch of confetti flew out from somewhere. It startled you and you yelled. It took you a few seconds but then you saw Harry standing behind the door with a sheepish smile on his face. "Honey, what is all of this?" you asked him, coming closer to him. He pulled you in by your waist and said, "My new album's coming out on December 13th. I want you to be the first one to know."

"Wait, you have another album coming out? I didn't even know you were working on one!" you said. "Love, I never stop working. And to answer your question, yes, I have another album coming out. It is going to be called Fine Line."

That was all years ago. You remember that day clearly. It was the day you thought he was the one. So much followed after that. You walked him backwards onto the couch, hands tangled in his soft curly hair, lips on his. Just as he fell onto it his head made contact with some leftover food that was lying around. It was messy and cut your make out session short. But it was sweet. After getting him cleaned up you both sat cuddled on the couch and continued watching Modern Family.

"How are we doing Manchester!" you could hear the crowd cheering through your earpiece. You finished the intro and now you were starting to get more comfortable. "You know, it has been a long time since I have performed here. I just got the warmest welcome of all time, and it's time to return the favor," you say just as a short whistle tune is played over the speakers making the crowd go wild. "Usually, people love dancing around to my songs, but for this one we have to sit still," you say, teasing the crowd when another whistle tune is played.

The song got over and slowly transitioned into your other single.

Crashing, hit a wall Right now I need a miracle Hurry up now, I need a miracle

It was a really low time in your life. You had just lost your father to covid, and your mother wasn't doing so well. Add to that, your boyfriend was stuck in England and you in America. And the cherry on top, your name was plastered all over the news. People were bored and decided to pull and poke fun at you and some of your songs to keep them busy.

But it sucked for you. You were dangerously close to swallowing a bunch of tablets and it sucked. You were on your own, got calls daily from the nearby hospital about your mother's health, which was declining and going through grief over losing your father 1 month ago. All you needed right now was a miracle. Only a miracle could save you.

Stranded, reaching out I call your name, but you're not around I say your name, but you're not around

You had just received news from the hospital saying that your mother had not made it. Being in the hospital for so long had benefitted her but in the end, she contracted covid. You did not take the call well. The second the doctor said the words 'I'm sorry' you felt your heart split into tiny shards of glass which embedded themselves into every part of your body. You did cry, you didn't sob, not even a voice crack by the time you finished the conversation.

You were numb. The only person you wanted was him, but it was impossible to reach him when he was on an entirely different continent. You called him. You texted him. You messaged him. You emailed him, but there was no response. You even tried Instagram but that resulted in nothing. You attempted to write him a physical letter, but there was no response.

You had no idea why he was ignoring you. And it wasn't like you called him 3-4 times a day. You called him 15-20 times a day, you were surprised no one was responding.

Right when you needed him the most in your life he decided to shut you out. It hurt more than any break-up ever did. It was like you were stranded on an island with no way to escape. And the person you were trying to contact to come and save you was not there, almost as if they didn't exist.

I need you, I need you, I need you right now Yeah, I need you right now So don't let me, don't let me, don't let me down I think I'm losing my mind now

That was when things started going south in your and Harry's relationship. When he finally responded back, he was nothing like the man you fell in love with. Though you were so desperate and elated that he finally responded, you didn't even notice the shift in his attitude. By the time you realized how out-of-love he was with you, you were ready to propose to him.

It's in my head, darling, I hope That you'll be here, when I need you the most So don't let me, don't let me, don't let me down

For the longest time you kept hoping that at some point Harry would respond. That he would come and save you from the hell you were in. That he would be there to put an end to your turmoil. But no. He didn't show up (not like he even could), he didn't call, didn't text, nothing. You were left to pick up your own broken pieces.

Don't let me down

'Harry please pick up, please'

A sob racked through your body, making you tremble.

don't let me down

'Leave on seen, even that will do, just please say something, please'

You were getting hysterical, one sob after another, pleas falling from your lips like a prayer, repeating it to yourself again and again and again.

down

'Letter number 12 and I will keep writing more, just please respond'

Ink was dripping down the paper like the tears on your face it was mixed with. Your vision was a blur.

down

'Maybe today he will respond, it's been 6 months, things are starting to open up, maybe I can go see him'

With each passing day your delusional hope kept getting stronger. You never knew you had this much motivation in yourself.

'Please don't let me down…'

You whispered to yourself every day, almost as if he could hear you begging him to save you, to heal you, to do some thing.

(💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔)

Running out of time I really thought you were on my side But now there's nobody by my side

You sat on the kitchen floor, three different items sitting next to you, each one waiting to be used. You thought of the knife and how if you used that it would be painful, but then when you were found people would talk about how much pain you would have had to endure to die.

You looked at the rope and the ceiling fan and how that would also be painful but at the same time a bit faster. It would certainly be the most dramatic way to go, overrated but dramatic. When you would be found, someone would see you hanging off of the ceiling suspended in air in the middle of the room. Headlines would be something about you not dying of the virus but of ill mental health. Maybe it would raise awareness.

You looked at the bottle of meds. Certainly, the most painless way to go but when you would be found and it would be announced that you died of an overdose, people would think you were desperate to die. Well, they wouldn't be wrong, just that you don't want people to every think you stooped to that level.

Look at you, thinking about if people thought you stooped to the lowest level of suicide when suicide itself is low. But what other option is there really? You father died around 8 months ago, your mother followed him about 6 weeks after, your sibling was in the military with absolutely no way to contact them and your boyfriend was blatantly ignoring you while the media has been having fun with ruining your name and songs because they are bored at home.

It felt like a clock was ticking, like time was running out fast, but for what? Your death maybe, that would be satisfactory for you but this clock felt like it was ticking down to something else. 'Well, if there is something worse, let it happen'

(💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔)

"Don't let me down." you reached your high note with practiced ease. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin as the crowd yelled loud enough that you could feel the sound waves. You kept going on for another 2 hours until the show ended, Harry not crossing your mind for the remainder of the show.

"Thank you once again for this lovely evening. Goodnight Manchester!"

You were in your hotel room, thinking back on your opening show. A smile played on your face when you thought back to fans' yell when the whistle tune played through the stadium speakers. But that smile left your face when you remembered who was on your mind as you sang the song which followed your opening track. Looking around you realized that the hotel room looked very similar to the room in which you felt your heart probably actually break.

You both had just returned from your best friend's movie premiere. It was late at night, which in your case meant getting a bit clingy and touchy. Nothing much, just hand holding, hugging, some neck kisses. You thought the night would be perfect, given that you were in the city of love itself. But little did you know that Cupid had a cruel joke in store for you.

You and Harry reached the hotel just fine. The night went better than imagined, it started in the bathroom and continued on in the bed until neither of you could keep your eyes open any longer. But then things changed in the morning. And it all started with, obviously, an article. This time the headlines were about the premiere last night.

When it comes to talking or interacting with people, you act the same with everyone and this included your best friend's co-star. He was a tall, brunette-dyed-blonde with 'sparkling silver eyes' (as the article put it). You were freaking out before the event and since you were meeting Harry at the location, you had no one to calm you down, so you decided to have a drink or two. By the time you reached the premiere, you were a bit tipsy. Harry knew this, of course, you tell him about almost everything that happens to you.

As you made your way around after walking the red carpet you were talking with people, socializing, networking. Oof, but the people who wrote this article only had pictures of you interacting with your friend's blonde co-star. You touched his arm at one point, were smiling widely when he cracked a joke and gave him a side hug when he wanted a picture with you. But this was enough evidence for people to think you were cheating on your boyfriend, someone who you almost worship.

Morning came, you and Harry were still acting touchy from the night before, you sitting in his lap while eating breakfast. You were having a shower when the room service came to pick up the dishes. Harry was mindlessly scrolling through his phone when he got a text from someone, an old friend who he started talking with and hanging out with recently. It was the article.

Now if Harry had seen this article 6 months ago, he would have probably just brushed it off as the media trying to stir up drama where there isn't. But sadly no. For the past 6 months you and Harry's relationship has been more than strained. There are constant fights, accusations about if the chicken got burned because of you or him and many cold shoulders. The second Harry read the article (and a few more covering the topic), he was hammering on the bathroom door demanding you come out immediately.

You had just finished your shower and had dried yourself when he was banging on the bathroom door. You opened the door to Harry angrier than he had ever been. He questioned you about the article. You told him you knew nothing of it.

"Baby, I swear I have no clue of what you are talking about."

"Then take the damn phone and read the bloody article!" he yelled, making you jump. You started realising that he wasn't just angry, he was furious.

As soon as you saw the pictures you realized what it was about. "Harry, you know me. I was not flirting with him, let alone cheating on you with him. The media just likes drumming up things that have nothing attached to it!" you saw, trying to get your clothes on.

He rolls his eyes, an unamused smile plastered on his face, "Do I know you, y/n? Hm, do I? Because over the past months it seems as if you are nothing like the person I met in 2018." "What do you mean 'nothing like the person I met'?! You are nothing like the person I FELL IN LOVE WITH!"

"Its just like you, always playing the victim. Instead of accepting that you're at fault you just find a way to blame it on me."

"Oh? Since when do you know so much about me? Didn't you just say I am nothing like the person I was before. And for your information, it's YOU who is at fault here. I have been the same person this whole time."

"So I'm the one at fault here? Huh, then tell me one thing that I have done wrong." By the time the argument reached here, you had all your clothes on, and Harry had grabbed a lamp out of frustration.

"With pleasure. Over the past 10 months whenever there was an article about me and someone else you would get jealous and think that I was cheating on you. You say that as if I don't worship the bloody ground you walk on, the water in which you bathe, the mirror in which you look at yourself. When you talk about something you like I give you my undivided attention. Even when I am exhausted, I still listen to you and respond with my 100% enthusiasm. Yet when I am excited about something you are either too busy, too tired or just plain uninterested. Oh and did I mention that for 8 months you did not answer one of my calls, any of my texts or emails?! That you were not there for me at a time when I needed you the most. That I nearly killed myself when you were not responding to me or the 15 letters I had sent to you. I called your mum, I called Gemma, I even resorted to Mitch and Sarah yet none of them could get me through to you because YOU TOLD THEM TO TELL ME YOU WERE UNAVAILABLE, WHY?! "

When you started talking about him ignoring you he rolled his eyes at you, folding his hands, gripping the lamp even harder. Ignoring everything you said before that he said, "Every single time I ask you to elaborate on what I did wrong, you bring that up. I have told you so many times that I told no one to tell you anything and for the last fucking time I did not receive any call/text/email or letter from you!"

When he screamed the last sentence he threw the lamp he was holding at you. It narrowly missed your head. The expression of shock was all over your face. You were no longer angry at him, you were scared of him.

"Harry what is wrong with you?! You threw a lamp at me." your chest was heaving, you looked at the lamp and back up at Harry. He took a step forward but you took a step back. "You keep saying that there is something wrong with me, that I am the one who changed, but please look at yourself first. Throwing things at people and not being bothered by it."

"You have no life outside of your work. You 'hangout with' Sarah and Mitch more often than you eat your food. Oh, and not to mention Leigha. You spend more time with her than with me, but do you see me complaining? There are more articles about you and her specifically. Yet you throw a fit about 1 article with me and a guy whose name I don't even remember."

"Don't you fucking dare say one more thing about her!" Harry moved closer towards you, picking up a vase at the same time. But you were more focused on calling him out to notice it. "And what about you and Louis? This actor might be a one time thing, but what about him huh? My old bandmate, you practically act like him with how much time you two spend together."

"Why? Do you care too much for her? Your 'old school friend'. And leave Louis out of this, I stopped hanging out with him long ago because you didn't like it. He was one of the only people who were there for me at my lowest, so shut your mouth about him. Plus, for your information, Leigha is nothing more than a self-obsessed man whore who was a nobody when you were in school." you were starting to get extremely riled up, your voice raising with each sentence. By the end of your sentence, you had pick up multiple items and left them all over the room, it was an anxious habit you formed. But you didn't stop there, you continued, "She failed senior year 3 times and got around the football team more often than other students studied. The only reason she attached herself to you was becau-" You were stopped by a vase hitting your head.

The anger on Harry's face could not be described. But the pain you felt could. Both the physical and emotional. The 3 inch cut on your forehead hurt really bad. You found it bleeding when you attempted to touch it. Emotionally, you felt betrayed. It didn't matter what Harry said next. You knew that this was the last straw, that it was the end.

Maybe if you kept your mouth shut there would have been a better chance he would have stayed with you. Maybe if you went ahead with your fatal plans those many months ago, you wouldn't have had to endure all this. But who are you kidding? The only reason you are alive right now is because of your sibling whose deployment ended. They flew from England and surprised you on a random Friday. After coming back they reminded you about how much you still have left to achieve, with your music, your future plans on a family, they reminded you of your fans and how they would feel, how your friends would feel, how they (your sibling) would feel, how Harry would feel. Though right now, you knew Harry would've felt nothing.

You only zoned back in when Harry was physically shaking you "Are you even listening to a fucking word I am saying?!"

"No, I am not. You just threw a vase at my head and are not even bothered about the bleeding cut on my forehead. You know what, I am done. I should killed myself a long time ago when I had the chance, because you don't love me anymore."

"Well, you got one thing correct; I don't love you anymore."

As soon as Harry said that you packed up your suitcase. Within three minutes you were out of the hotel on your way to the airport, taking the first flight back to Heathrow.

And during the flight, you kept rotating the box in your hands. The only which contained a simple gold band in it. As a tear streaked down your face you wiped it with the back of your hand. 'Why did I let him gaslight me for so many months?' you kept thinking this and many other questions relating to your relationship. 'It was so toxic, it was so unhealthy and moreover he was a dick.'

You sent a text to you sibling stating that you were on your way home. You even sent one to Louis. He was always there for you. Being your childhood friend and all. You both auditioned for the Xfactor at the same time. He got put in a boyband while you signed a contract with Simon separately. When your careers started, you both started hanging out less, but you remained good friends. The only One Direction member you met was Zayn and Niall, and that too on accident. The plane landed, and because no one was expecting you to be at the airport, there was no paparazzi for once. You quickly got a taxi and headed to his house after calling him.

You spent the entire night venting about your entire relationship.

a/n - this is probably one of the longest things i have ever written. let me know what you think. i hope i'll be able to write a part 2 to this, unless you feel i should leave it at this?

also i sincerely apologize to any Leighas out there.

Hope you enjoyed reading🩵

[oneshotgremlin]

Up and Down

Thoughts on how beings generally perceive their world one spatial dimension lower than the dimensionality of the space they inhabit:

In the flatlands, the way people perceive the world around them is through lines, and so visual receptors HAVE to be on the edges of their shapes

Otherwise by all accounts the person would be effectively blind

So Mrs.Red and Mr.Blue have this strange yellow boy

Who appears to be born with no eyes

(It’s directly in his center, but without tests and doctors nobody can see it)

And for all intents and purposes, the boy is blind

He has to feel his way around buildings and people (in his hand a black cane that his parents bought to aid him)

And he doesn’t know what his parents look like, and only knows them by their voice as they guide him

They love him all the same, regardless

(Meanwhile, he stares up at the infinite expanse of the night sky. But the thing about infinity is that it makes where you stand so infinitesimally tiny in comparison, and no matter how far you run side to side the stars do not move an inch for you. And if they’re all someone sees, the only logical conclusion that can be drawn is that where they are is unspeakably, claustrophobically small)

(It doesn’t matter if the kids at school bully him and the adults look at him with pity and disdain that he can’t even see, because don’t they know how SMALL they are? Don’t they know how small EVERYTHING is?)

And so, with years and years and nowhere else to go, Bill reaches UP

(And no-one else has tried before, because why would they? There is no up or down to conceive, only forwards and backwards and left and right.)

It takes unimaginable amounts of energy to punch a rift into a dimension. In a time and space unmeasurably far away, a six fingered man and his five fingered twin would learn that lesson well

In the flatlands, it’s less of an interdimensional portal looming ominously in a metal room and more of a calculation

l is for length. w is for width. h is for height

And like a computer told to divide by zero, everything falls apart

Did you know that when energetic particles that erupt from the stars collide with a sufficiently nitrogen rich atmosphere, it produces the color blue?

Did you know the only reason the flatlanders didn’t drift off into the freezing cold yet boiling hot void of space, despite not having a planet with the volume and mass needed to produce a gravitational field, is their dimension’s lack of third dimensionality?

Like insects pinned underneath glass, yet the glass protected their corpses from falling apart?

They scream. He cries. He laughs. They die.

It’s an old saying: “When gravity falls and earth becomes sky beware the beast with just one eye”

And when little Billy looks away from the stars, looks down to finally see his tiny, minuscule home

For the first and last time, he sees a blue triangle with a hat, and a red triangle with a bow.

[cozmic-ash]

reimagining this old zelgan piece from a few years back, but with their new designs (which I definitely botched a little bit because I'm too wary of spoilers to look up in-depth references lol)

happy one-week-til-totk!!!! 🙌

[blindmagdalena]

i'm so sorry, i wasn't able to get a chapter of gilded cage done this week 😩 i really underestimated how busy halloween season was gooing to be. but hopefully the inter-chapter i posted last week helped tide folks over. i plan to be back on schedule by next week!

[aster-draws]

YOU.

I cant even begin to formulate a sentence to convey how much i adore better halves. I even started writing my very first fic beacuse of it.

On that note: i have no clue what I'm doing. Any tips for writing? I'm thinking specifically when it comes to dialogue, but any and all advice is appreciated!

consider me pinned to the floor like that one cat with the onions (sorry it took so long for me to reply- work school adult responsibilities ect)

Wow I'm so happy to hear you started writing! Genuinely it brings me so much joy and to know I'm inspiring others is like. you know. tear jerking or whatever.

I don't really have many tips apart from like, the fact that it's the same as any other skill, right- you're gonna suck at it a little at first. I wrote so much crap by volume it's insane. If you don't believe me there is evidence way back on my a03 page (and there's a lot more that isn't. hundreds of thousands of words in my google docs). Sometimes I still feel like I'm just writing trash. so you just keep on trucking and then it gets more and more decent. until eventually it's like. good. ish.

As for specific advice with dialogue- I talk through my stuff all the time. i read it out loud to myself and also anyone who will listen. I feel like better halves specifically takes a lot of cues from like early 2000's rom coms, specifically in dialect, most of MY favorites of which are adapted from shakespeare, and so I wouldn't exactly call the way they speak natural, if that makes sense? People don't talk like that. But I think it's fun and genre. But even with that, there's a lot of more of it that is? I just hear them in my head.

So yeah moral of the story is to just write all the time and read it out loud if you're not sure. It's gonna be a lot faster to figure out what's wrong than to figure out the way to fix it. The best advice I have for how to develop an ear about it is to read. A lot. The more you read and the more variety you read the better your ear/eye will get for it. unfortunately this means reading a broader variety of stuff. i read a lot of fanfiction, but also literary fiction, classics, non fiction. don't get stuck by genre and push to read more difficult things because it really can change the way you think and approach your own work

yeah xo you're gonna create amazing things I believe in you.

[bo0tleg]

Maverick and Rooster aren't going to be able to immediately fall back to what they were. They care for each other deeply, and saved each others life on the mission, but this sort of shit needs time. One conversation isn't going to cut it with those two.

Look: I like the idea of them falling back into what they were before just as much as the next person, but that's.... not what realistically would happen. And that's ok! It makes sense for them not to know what to do with each other at the start.

For the record: I'm also not blaming anyone for writing fics about them immediately going back to the father-son or uncle-nephew dynamic because, because come on. It's cute as HECK! I'd just like to think about how to explore their feelings and hang-ups about each other in dept!

They're both stubborn fucks and this has been simmering for far too long for anything to be resolved instantly with a single conversation. Bradley un-learned how to talk honestly to people the day he left, and Mav's scared about what honesty can bring. They've sat on this pot for so long they no longer feel it burning their asses, and forgot what they put in the damn thing in the first place, so they stay there. On top of it. Still burning their asses.

Bradley holds onto grudges like it's a lifeline, and one mission isn't going to change that. He listened to Mav in the canyon because he rescinded what he had said with his actions. Mav said that he 'wasn't ready' but then chose Rooster as his wingman, communicating that he is ready and that he trusts him with his life. But that was a life or death situation that Rooster was both present in and could interfere in if he so chose. He saved Mav because he didn't want him to die, and they seem more inclined to deal with it back on the boat, but it's still a long road ahead.

What happened was they rekindled their care for each other, because neither had ever truly given up on it in the first place. Mav never stopped caring and knew it, Bradley did the same without knowing. This just so happens to be the first time they're forced to deal with each other since the fallout.

Just because they care about each other doesn't erase the history that's separated them for all of this time. In fact, it probably makes it worse.

Bradley thought highly of Mav, and he didn't live up to it. Mav wanted the best for Bradley, and did what he thought would be best. Their problems came from the root of care. And it's more bittersweet because of it.

Because of it, resentment and guilt have settled over their shoulders, respectively, and it refused to go away.

They talk, and they try, but it's still not great.

Mav is inclined to just sweep it all under a rug and ignore the lump it forms on the floor. Because of his guilt, he takes all of the blame and sugarcoats Bradley's part in said blame to try and make up for it. Bradley is just as fault as Mav is, but Mav doesn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

So instead of fixing things, they look slightly less crooked, but not entirely right. It's a 'their problem' not 'his problem'. They're both at fault, and they both need to deal with it.

Maverick refuses to give up any of the blame, and Bradley is going to refuse to take any of it.

Sure, Mav fucked up, but Bradley blew it out of proportions. Storming off and refusing to talk is a normal response, but not for fifteen years. He barely let Mav explain himself.

Everything "wrong" about himself he blames on Mav. He thinks that Mav fucked him up by breaking his trust as his father figure, so he doesn't trust anybody anymore. He thinks that him being completely emotionally stunted and sensitive to critique is Mav's fault because of the 'your not ready' comment.

Thing is, it's his own fault. It's his fault that he's been fucked up for so long because he never tried to fix what was broken. It's not Bradley's fault that Mav pulled his papers, but he threw away everything, everyone he had before because of a single (justifiable!) mistake. And he doesn't recognize it for what it is, and refuses the blame. Carting it all off to Mav instead of dealing with his own shortcomings.

Mav is aware of this (that Rooster refuses to take the blame), but agreed with Rooster in his analysis of the situation, and takes it all on himself, which is not a healthy mechanism for either of them. It pats Rooster on the head for somewhere he fucked up on, and overloads Mav with guilt that shouldn't be that intense and deep.

But they don't know this. So Mav isn't angry at Rooster, because he's blindsighted by his care.

Thing is, I want someone to be angry. I want someone to be offended on Mav's behalf because he himself won't do it. I don't know who it would be, could be a good number of people, maybe even a child OC.

For fifteen years Bradley left without looking back. He left, and Mav suffered. Someone saw that. Someone was there with him all or most of those years, sitting right beside him as his guilt grew with every holiday that went by, with every letter or call left unanswered.

The obvious option is Ice. However, I want to pull away from that option, because if Ice is dead (stay with me now) it only creates more conflict, more nuance to what's going on.

Bradley cut Mav out of his life, and it's implied that he cut out any association with him too. That includes Ice.

What if he never spoke to Ice either for those fifteen years? Ice died. Bradley went to his funeral. Bradley went to his funeral as a fellow aviator, as an underling obeying orders.

Bradley's face in that funeral was blank.

That is the face of a man watching the burial of someone he once could potentially have considered a father figure that he hadn't spoken with for fifteen years. And he's never going to be able to speak to him again.

At that funeral, I don't think he regretted it. Sad, maybe, but no regret.

The regret only hit later.

He got to mend things with Mav after the Uranium Mission and beyond, but that is no longer possible with Ice.

Bradley regretted what he did, how he neglected them for years, but he regretted it too late for one of them.

I think Brad probably ended up at Ice's grave at some point, and owned up to everything he didn't– couldn't– own up to at the funeral. And he fucking sobbed. Begged. Apologized, over and over.

This is the reason I suggested maybe a child OC, because if the child is Icemav's or just Ice's, Bradley's gonna have a warped perception of them. (Note: When I say "child" I mean that it was their child as in gender neutral for son/daughter, it doesn't necessarily mean the person in question should be an actual kid.)

Bradley's gonna see that kid as penance.

And they're gonna fucking hate him for it.

Bradley is going to look at them and see Ice, and they're gonna hate him for it. Their father is dead, and for the last fifteen years of his life he'd never been truly happy because this prick never bothered to own up to his mistakes. Not even at the funeral Bradley owned up to his shortcomings, and now all of a sudden he waltzes right back like he never left? What the fuck!

Bradley could have done this, idk like a week sooner? But he only came to his senses after Ice died. Their father died and Bradley barely looked like he cared is what they're going to think. But all of a sudden, he goes on a suicide mission and almost died and he's suddenly back? Because when his own life is in danger he changes his mind, but when Ice died he couldn't care less? What the fuck!

That man went to that funeral as a subordinate, not as the son he was.

The kid doesn't have the tinted lenses Mav has on about Bradley. All the resentment Mav doesn't feel, this kid is going to feel for him.

Bradley is going to understand their resentment because of Ice, and is going to focus on fixing that part with them, without noticing that the resentment isn't just because of Ice, it's about Mav too.

The kid is going to be pissed because they are not Ice. Bradley is going to be too worried about making it up to a dead man through his child that he's going to neglect the very much still alive man he ALSO has to make amends with.

But Ice didn't have a direct hand in pulling his papers, so Bradley understands his mistake with him (he shouldn't have cut him out over someone else's mistake). Mav, however, did have a direct hand and he's still bitter about it. And the kid sees it. They see him doing exactly that.

Bradley is focusing on the wrong thing, because he's trying to redeem himself in an impossible way, trying to answer to someone who no longer demands it.

He goes after it because the silence is a more comfortable answer than the conflict he's bound to face from someone who's still alive.

In the process, he's going to hurt Mav.

Bradley's gonna be so caught up in making it up to Ice (the one he can no longer make up to) that he doesn't think to properly make it up to Mav (the one he can still make it up to) because he thinks he has to.

Ice is gone. Ice is gone and there's nothing he can do about it. And If he'd just changed his mind earlier maybe there could have been. Admittedly, Ice still would have died, but maybe he'd have died more settled than he did. He'd have died with the knowledge that his son came back. That his son still cared. But he didn't, and Bradley hates himself for it.

So, he veers to the kid. He doesn't outright apologize other than the first time, but he's gonna treat them like either a piece of glass or a carbon copy of his father figure. Regardless, they're going to hate him for it.

It's not them he cares for, it's what he sees them as. They can see straight through his bullshit because there's no deep emotional connection there to blind them.

They could try to care and love for him for Mav's sake, but it'd be much better if it were on their own terms, that Bradley would care for them as them and not as Ice's child.

On top of that, the neglect Bradley has for Mav is humongous. And he himself doesn't see it because the resentment he feels is still there. Mav was the one who pulled his papers. He blames Mav for his own decisions.

He's alone, and he blames Mav. He doesn't let anyone in or near, and he blames Mav. But it wasn't Mav that made him shut everyone out, he did that on his own.

He hasn't thought about why Mav did what he did, choosing to believe what Mav claimed to be the reason. It's blatantly obvious that Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell of all people would never stop someone from going to the Academy because he thought they aren't capable. That's what they did to him, he's not going to do that to someone who is virtually his son.

Bradley was irrational and stuck to that irrationality for fifteen years. He used the emotional stuntedness he himself created as a guise to not actually process what happened. He refused to think about it, and still does.

He and Mav reconnected after the mission, but it's a frail margin. Bradley was more inclined to listen because he's confused that Mav cares at all. In his rage, he didn't notice that he did it out of love, and doesn't know what to do with it. The entire training, he's confused, pissed and uncertain all the while.

He still doesn't know the real reason Mav did what he did, and doesn't understand the love he still sees in his eyes. Rooster thought that he shattered everything he had with Mav when he felt, most of all cemented it with all the time spent in that state.

By the end of the movie, he knows for certain that Mav loves him, and understands that he, himself, never stopped loving Mav either, despite what he claimed.

Bradley wanted to be a pilot because of his dad. Goose wasn't a pilot. Maverick was.

The betrayal hit him harder because he wasn't running after Goose, he was looking up to Mav. He wanted to be like Mav.

And he became a pilot, even when Mav pulled his papers, even after having the person he did it all for ripped him into shreds. He still did it.

He still wanted to be like Mav. Deep down, he still saw him as a role model even through all of the repression.

But he still doesn't know why. He doesn't know why Mav did what he did, because Maverick himself refused to say why.

Mav isn't going to be doing great either. He fucked up, and he fucked up big time. He shouldn't have pulled Bradley's papers, period. I know about Carole, but still. He should have communicated with Brad about it, and they'd fight about it, but Bradley wouldn't have walked out to never return then.

To worsen matters, Maverick has a horrendous martyr complex that makes him take the brunt of Bradley's resentment instead of Carole, the actual perpetrator.

Over the years, he's blamed himself more and more every year that passed, but I don't believe he ever regretted it.

He fulfilled Carole's last wish. It didn't stop Rooster from becoming a pilot. He gave both of them what they wanted.

But he's trying to protect the Carole Bradley has in his head because he doesn't want to stain his memory of her as he did with himself. This has been discussed a hundred times over, so I will try to be brief.

Mav is scared that instead of him, Bradley's gonna resent his mother. His dying, cripple mother that said that in her death bed. His widow mother who saw her husband die in the skies and didn't want her baby boy to have the same fate. His sorrowful mother that had to watch her friend, someone she considered a little brother, keep going up into those same skies and hear all the whispers the people on the ground flung upon him because of it.

So he took it all on himself. Because he sees himself as expendable in favor of her.

So, safe to say he's not going to be the one to tell Bradley the truth. Because of it, Bradley's resentment is going to continue to fester.

After the mission, Bradley knows that Mav's not telling him everything, but he refuses to talk about it so what the hell is he going to do?

They fix things well enough for them to talk to each other, but don't make it too deep in fear of opening up more wounds instead of stitching the old ones back together.

Mav thinks this is as good as he can get. Bradley is annoyed at Mav's hesitance.

Despite mending things, Bradley is still going to think all of his problems are Mav's fault. And he's a petty bitch, so he won't let it slide.

He hasn't properly processed it due to the lack of information, and can't let go because of it.

He's going to slip in dry comments about how Mav affected his mental health and life because of what he did. He's going to be cagey about everything that happened in the in between. He's not going to know basic shit about Mavericks life because he refuses to acknowledge that he was wrong in more than one way.

And Mav's gonna fucking take it.

He's not gonna say anything, not gonna even defend himself because he thinks he deserves it.

Bradley is a stubborn fuck whose pride has been hurt once, and refuses to acknowledge that it could be hurt again. He's just like Mav when he was younger, but ten times worse in the emotional department (I have no fucking idea how he managed that, but he did).

So yeah, soon enough they're going to be balls deep in miscommunication with grudges held close to their chest.

Maverick wants to communicate but doesn't want to communicate a very important piece of information that could potentially make things better and Bradley straight up doesn't want to if he doesn't have to.

Which means they're going to come to a stand-still. And someone is gonna have to interfere.

If I were to guess, it'd either be Slider or Sarah (Kazansky). Regardless if Sarah is Ice's sister or wife (up to interpretation), she knew how important Mav was to Ice and obviously cares about him too from the few scenes we got of her. Slider also knows, and it's obvious he also genuinely cares about Mav too despite claiming otherwise.

I'd honestly vote for Slider to be the one to do it, simply because he'd also see the Ice favoritism and the Mav neglect, and would pull Bradley's ear about it to hell and back. Because he also knew Goose, and this... entire thing is not something Goose would be happy about, at all. Slider has a much more subdued connection to Bradley, so he'd have no qualms about calling him out on everything.

Especially if he ever found out that Bradley said 'My dad trusted you, I'm not going to make the same mistake.' I sorely believe Slider would end up in jail if he ever heard about that one.

If Sarah were the one to do it, she'd probably be more understanding and much less violent than Slider, but she'd be blunt. That's still someone she cares deeply for they're talking about, and she also saw all of it. She wouldn't sugar coat what needs to be said, but she'd be understanding too. Not you did nothing wrong kind of understanding, but a you had your reasons to be upset kind of understanding.

Either of them would probably do this without Maverick's consent, because that's the only way to get it done.

When Bradley finally comes to know exactly why Mav did what he did, he's gonna be in shambles. Not only for Mav, but for himself.

His entire life has been built around that single happenstance and now it's gone, he was wrong. He was so wrong. He can't go back to being the way he was, he doesn't remember how he was.

He's gonna have to start over, rebuild himself from the ground up to be someone better and spare everyone in his life the suffering. Everyone in his life has suffered the consequences of his resentment. He doesn't know if he can make up for it.

To start over, step number one is apologize.

This right here is were he finally lets his ego drop, and fully apologizes to Mav. Finally owns up to his mistakes to the person that deserves it most. He's not gonna leave Mav be, he's definitely going to demand a full explanation from him and then is going to scold him for it, but he's gonna finally fully let go of the grudge he held this entire time.

That's to say, everything isn't a sea of roses.

Maverick isn't the only person he needs to apologize to, and on top of it, Maverick is probably the only one who is going to let him down easy.

Bradley is going to be on a tight leash with everybody else for a while, and they don't have any hold ups about calling him out on his bullshit. He's going to need to learn how to take critique to improve himself rather than read it as a straight up insult that he's going to get mad about.

Maverick is going to need to learn that Bradley isn't going to up and leave, and that he shouldn't hold himself to such low standards. Not only that, he's also going to need to learn that Bradley is bound to make mistakes just like any other human.

Bradley is still gonna fuck up in some places, but he's gonna be better at recognizing it. Mav's also gonna fuck up sometimes, but he's going to get better at accepting it and moving on.

With time, Mav is going to call Bradley out on his bullshit too, and Bradley is going to do the same when Mav starts doing his 'I'm less important than other people' shit.

They're going to be sad about it because they think that the reason the other does some of the things they do is because of themselves, but that's a story for another time.

They try. That's what matters.

[kalofi]

zl fic idea

hii everyone i wrote something yesterday about an au idea i had for zolu and. i thought i'd share it here since its a bit too messy and disjointed in places to post on like. ao3 or something.

4.7k words, warning for temporary major character death but do not worry all will be fixed in due time. i'll put the rest under the cut

ok i have an idea for an au thats like kind of reincarnation but like reality displacement but like. okay just listen.

so we start at laughtale. its a couple years into the future from where we are in canon the strawhats are achieving their dreams luffy is about to find the one piece theres a big battle happening between them and the blackbeard pirates and whoever the fuck else is there idc. the rest of the strawhats are fighting the bb crew while luffy and zoro head off to find the one piece and also end up fighting black beard himself. luffy and zoro atp r like basically a thing but they never talk about it cuz theyre luffy and zoro and they kind of just exist with each other but like. theyre basically in love and everyone knows it. anyway they go off together luffy has the one piece almost in his grasp blackbeard attacks they fight its a big battle blood is shed bones are broken uumm in my mind luffy and zoro are like teaming up against bb bc his devil fruit is lowk broken and op and like ok theres gear5 too but i didnt rly consider that so lets just assume bb’s devil fruit can negate gear5 somehow or luffy exhausts it before bb is fully defeated. 

finally theyre able to knock bb down and hes out and theyre both tired and worn but they DID IT and the one piece is luffys and theyre facing each other grinning ear to ear and zoros saying “you ready, king of the pirates?” and luffy laughs and goes “not just yet zoro, i still gotta-“ and then theres a spear piercing right through his chest. and in the next moment its gone. 

theres a gaping hole through his captain and theres blood, theres so much blood and luffy’s still smiling like he hasnt realized it yet, like it hasnt even registered. zoros ears are ringing and he doesnt know what to make of whats hes seeing because its just not real, it CANT be. 

he looks over luffy’s shoulder and blackbeard is on the ground with his hand outstretched , black energy coiling back into his form and he’s laughing and laughing with bloodstained teeth. hes fucking laughing. one moment zoro is still standing parallel to luffy and the next hes in front of blackbeard and the mans head is rolling through the dirt and gravel, wado dripping crimson, a terrible gap toothed grin still stretching the man’s cheeks. 

zoro is breathing heavy, hes trembling and hes almost mesmerized by the blood pooling around a lacerated neck— then he’s remembering luffy and turning around and calling his name and he can see right through him theres a HOLE right through him and he chokes and stumbles and rushes to his side right as luffy starts to crumple to the floor . catches him and lowers him gently and doesnt know what to say. 

hes still shaking but cant move his mouth and everything is muffled, the sounds from the battle outside are distant and they dont matter but what does he do. what does he do. 

he snaps out of it when luffy gently calls his name. a strong “zoro,” like hes not fazed at all. like there isnt blood soaking into zoros clothes. 

his brain kickstarts and he’s speaking. saying things like “youre ok you’ll be ok” and “choppers right outside i’ll just call him and he’ll fix you right up” and “you always bounce back, right captain?” and hes thinking “dont die please dont fucking die. not now, not when we’re this close please dont fucking die” and hes silently praying to all the gods he doesnt believe in but luffy calls his name again and his mouth clicks shut. luffys saying it’ll be fine, that he had fun. that hes proud to have made it this far with all of them. and those sound a lot like parting words so zoro’s shaking his head no but luffy is still smiling. hes saying that hes glad he had zoro, that he made him happy. hes saying to tell everyone he’s glad they met, that hes glad they all had each other, that he knows theyll be just fine . 

zoro wants to say that luffy should tell that to them himself, when hes wrapped up and recovering and alive but his mouth is glued shut again and he feels that interrupting luffy now would be cursing him to death, like his words are the only thing keeping him tethered here, he just needs to get him to keep talking to stay awake. 

he tries to smile but it comes out ugly and wrong and he feels his lip wobble so he drops it. he settles on rubbing his thumb on luffys shoulder. something to keep him here. 

so he rubs and luffy talks little things until he cant anymore. until his eyes grow dull and his skin loses its warmth and still zoro rubs and he rubs.

—

thats how law finds them. zoro hunched over a body that should never be as still as it is. and its really no surprise hes there, hes been gunning for the one piece since the time he could captain a ship (or a submarine) but it all feels so wrong. 

zoro either doesnt notice him or doesnt care, but either way the man doesnt acknowledge law until he’s right behind him. its not like law can say anything to announce himself either, not after seeing the state of the body that zoros currently holding. the body that used to be luffy’s. hes still processing it all when the other man(the one whos alive) finally speaks. 

zoro asks if hes got a devil fruit. less of a question and more of a statement, but he should know anyway since theyve spent considerable time together and hes literally seen him use it. law cant unstick his jaw so he hums in affirmation. “and you can switch stuffs’ places?” another hum. “what about time.” 

that makes law pause. “what?” his voice comes out stronger than he feels. 

“what about time? can you switch things in time?” by this point law has awakened his devil fruit or some shit dont sweat the logistics but hes never tried anything of that sort so he kind of stumbles “im not- maybe? ive never attempted-“ zoro interrupts “send me back” 

“what?” 

“send me back so i can fix this. you can do that, right.” it clicks. law would pity zoro if he didnt know any better, instead he just feels mounting despair and resignation. 

he may not be crew, but he knew luffy too, he was allied with the man for fucks sake, and this just feels- wrong. he sighs, a tired, heavy thing. 

“what about your crew?” its useless. zoros as stubborn as his captain, with arguably a handful more screws loose. “it wont matter. they’ll never know because i’ll make sure this doesnt happen.” he still hasnt turned around. law doesnt know what expression hes making and hes sure he never wants to find out. 

hes ready to deny it, cut his losses and head for the one piece himself (hes not heartless, but if he stands here any longer and has to look at. well. he think he might never be able to move again) but then he really thinks about it. could he? would it even be possible? surely this isnt the way things were supposed to go, surely this isnt right. luffys never been one who was supposed to die just like that, like this, law knows that much. he thinks hes going to regret this, but he counts it as one last thank you for everything luffy did for him. 

youre gonna owe me big time strawhat-ya. if i even remember this, that is. 

he puffs a breath “i can try. i cant- promise anything but. i think we both know this,” he makes a vague, weak gesture, “isnt right.” 

zoro doesnt say anything, law didnt expect him to. he just bows his head slightly and law takes that as the acknowledgment it is. 

he brings his hand up, “dont do anything stupid, zoro-ya. or, at least, make it stupid enough to bring him back.” 

he positions his fingers in way so familiar, but the weight of it now is nearly unbearable.

room.

shambles

—

zoro’s world shatters, differently than before, and then theres nothing.

—

he wakes up in bed, bleary eyed and a pounding headache assaulting his senses. his alarm clock is going off which only adds to the drumbeat against his eyes. he grumbles and whacks around aimlessly to shut it off. the silence lasts a moment before his eyes fly open and he jolts up, sheets pooling around his waist. luffy. where was he? where was zoro? did the crew find him and take him back to the ship? did law fail? but this didnt look like chopper’s office.

he looks around to find hes in a room hes never seen before in his life, yet he instinctively knows is his. it all feels so wrong, like he doesnt belong in his own skin. he scratches lightly at his arm. he needs to go to work. 

work?

what the fuck is happening. 

its like his mind is at war with itself, one truth trying to dominate over the other. he trained at sensei’s dojo. he aged out of foster care. he was a swordsman, he was the first mate of the strawhat pirates. he didnt go to college, hes working construction. he made a promise, and kuina died. kuina…died. huh. his captain, his luffy, someone he knew so intimately and who knew him in turn. hes never met someone with that name his entire life. he needs to go to work, he needs to find his crew. 

he doesn’t understand what the fuck is happening. 

without his permission his legs stand him right up and he moves confusedly, surely, to the bathroom he didnt know he had. his reflection stares back at him in the mirror and its him, of course it is, he doesnt know why he expected someone else, but hes also…different. he has both function of his eyes, first of all. a scar in the same place as before but its light and healed over and doesnt seem to have blinded him like it once did. his hair is green, sure, but black roots peek out from underneath the familiar shade. hes grown stubble, he should shave. he needs to go to work. 

hes so confused, but his body moves like its been doing this its whole life. as far as zoro knows, it has. 

he continues getting ready, mind still at odds, and makes himself a cup of coffee (in his own kitchen. his own kitchen? the state of it leaves less to be desired. sanji would surely skin him alive) before tucking into his shoes, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading out the door. he seems to live in a single room apartment, and a crummy one at that. his legs move him faster, he has to go to work, he cant be late again (again?).

his car is parked outside the building, he has no fucking clue what it is but he unlocks it all the same and settles in. he feels like he shouldnt be operating this sort of machinery. franky would know better than him how it must work. he starts it up and backs out. trusting his gut to get him where he needs to be. he should be more concerned, he should be frantic and inconsolable, his captain was dead in his arms and now hes? what? going to lay some bricks or some shit? but he finds that part of him dulled in favor of following whatever mundanity this body is pushing him towards. 

uumm whatever whatever he arrives at work eventually i dont know how construction jobs work are there offices or something. idc thats not the point. johnny and yosaku are there and zoro is surprised to see them since, as far as he knows, the last time they were with each other was at arlong park which was years ago for him. but the two greet him like this is a daily occurence, like theyve been working together for years. and zoro thinks, knows, they must have. but this is good, this is great fucking news actually because until now theres been no confirmation if zoro was here alone (wherever “here” is) but now his proof is right in front of him because if johnny and yosaku are here, and they exist the same as from before, then that must mean everyone else is here too right? he clings onto this hope with both hands trembling. 

nami, usopp, the cook and chopper and robin and franky, brook, jinbe and fuck. fuck, luffy. theyve got to be here somewhere, zoro just has to find them. hes not sure if they remember things like he does but hes got to try because they are his as much as he has always been theirs and they should all exist together as it has always been. 

so then yeah he finishes his shift because its what hes ‘supposed’ to do but he doesnt go home. he drives around aimlessly before pulling into a random lot and pulling out his phone (theres no snail attached to it. weird.) he doesnt even know where to begin. hes not usually the one coming up with plans, he just goes where theres blood need to be shed. but no one seems to be in any danger here except for maybe himself, and its not like he has his swords anyway- shit. fuck did he still have wado? he must have right? he knows there was a kuina that existed here too, he knows because he remembers. and she, well she wasnt around anymore so he must have wado. he must. with shaking fingers he pushes that aside for now, though barely. he needs to find luffy, but he wouldnt even know where to start. luffy could probably find the rest of their crew by simply wandering around and happening upon them, thats how he did it before. but zoro has no idea where he’d be, he doesnt even know where he is. nami or robin would be a good bet to at least form a plan, but he wouldnt know how to find them either. 

is there even a coco village here? would robin still be part of baroque works? he needs someone who has a defined location that he could google or something (what the hell is google?). usopp would be at syrup village right? shit. is there even a drum island? these are all too broad, he needs something specific. specific…..a place with an identifiable name, somewhere smaller that would be easier to stake out…

a lightbulb goes off. 

fucking shit he thinks. of course. of fucking course it would come down to the cook. 

he types in “baratie” to his maps and a location pops up, just 27 minutes from where he is now. he hasnt eaten yet either, so he figures thats killing two birds with one stone. he taps the address, backs out of the lot and drives. 

(if it takes him nearly an hour to get there thats nobodys business but his own)

he pulls up to the building about a quarter after 7. it seems packed enough already, but if memory serves him right then that was just par for the course for baratie. he parks, gets out and locks his car, then shoves his hands in his pocket and resigns himself to another oncoming migraine hes sure to get upon interacting with the man hes certain is waiting somewhere inside. 

the tables are full, the host tells him, he slips a 20 from his wallet and suddenly (of course) theyre more than willing to serve him. 

he gets settled in a far and somewhat isolated booth and a waiter comes up to him, but he cuts the man off as hes introducing himself and says “you got a blonde working here? stupid ass side part with a weird eyebrow? goes by sanji” the waiter looks shocked and put off by his rudeness but quickly collects himself and says “we might. depends on whos asking” zoro snorts “just tell him hes got someone who wants to talk to him,” he cringes at this next part, tries to smile but knows it comes off as a sneer. hes not sure if he still has conquerors haki wherever he happens to be now, but he tries to channel that energy the same way he would if he were in battle and says “tell him im a fan.” the waiters eyes widen, in fear or surprise zoros not sure (most likely a mix of both) before he nods and scurries across the floor, weaving in between patrons and coworkers alike until he disappears behind the double doors to the kitchen. 

zoro sits with his arms crossed and skims through the menu out of boredom and impatience. its a couple minutes before he sees a familiar head of blonde hair emerge from across the way. a smile climbs onto his face despite himself. sure, the guy annoyed him to hell and back and their…friendship (if you could really call it that) was a tumultuous one, but it was good to see someone familiar nonetheless. he schools his expression before the blonde can spot him. a few moments pass before hes standing right in front of zoro, his stupid suit primped and pressed as always, and a cautious look on his face. 

“you asked for me?” his tone is the one he only reserves for men who he deems not worth his time. zoro grits his teeth but says “yeah, theres something ive gotta discuss with you.” 

hes never been one for tact, forever blunt unlike his swords. 

sanji quirks a brow “i dont plan on talking about anything with anyone unless theyre a paying customer” zoro feels his eyebrow twitch but grabs his menu nonetheless and points to a random item without looking “i’ll have this then, and whatever booze you got.” sanji leans in to see what hes pointing to before his one visible eye widens and a grin slowly overtakes his previously unaffected face. 

he speaks condescendingly. “wonderful choice sir, coming right up.” before zoro can get another word in he grabs the menu out of his hand, spins on his heel, and marches back to the kitchen. 

zoro clenches his fists and does his best not to grind his teeth into a fine dust. no matter where they are or what displacement in time the fucking curly brow never fails to be absolutely insufferable. at least this way though, zoro knows its him for real. 

its another 20 minutes before the shit cook reemerges from the back with a platter and a mug in his hand. he steps up to zoros table and places the plate and cup down in front of him with a smug look. zoro has no idea what the fuck hes looking at on his plate. he doesnt have time to question it before sanji plops down in the booth seat across from him, disregarding all previous faux-professionale and asking “so what do you want” zoro tears his eyes away from his plate and looks into sanji’s, trying to convey as much emotion, as much urgency as he possibly can. 

“luffy needs us. and we have to find him” whatever the cook was expecting him to say, it definitely wasnt that. the other man regards him more warily now, looking him up and down with a tense frown before replying “i dont know what the hell youre talking about. and i dont appreciate being mocked or having my time wasted” he goes to stand up but zoro grabs his wrist, yanking him back down unceremoniously. 

he blinks before rounding back on zoro, flaring his nostrils in a way zoro knows means hes about to get himself in deep shit “oi, what the fuck do you think youre-“ he doesnt let him finish “im not mocking you. this isnt some stupid prank or whatever youre thinking. and despite how much i would enjoy punching your teeth in right now im not looking for a fight either.” 

the cook still looks affronted but seems to actually be listening. zoro continues “look, i dont know what the fuck is going on. i was at laughtale with you and the others, with luffy, and then i woke up and now im here and i dont know how but this is all wrong. its all wrong but i need to find luffy and fuck, i cant do it alone. i need your help to find him. find everyone.” the blondes eye is wide, but he blinks and its gone. he looks more tired than zoro has ever seen him 

“im not paid enough for this shit. i dont know why i even-“ he looks like hes getting ready to leave again but zoro is desperate at this point so he blurts out whatever he thinks will convince the other man hes not bullshitting.

“we met you here, at the baratie. me and nami and usopp and luffy. luffy busted through one of your walls so your old man punished him by making him wash dishes. i dont, i dont know what luffy said to you, or how he convinced you to join us, but he changed your life like he did mine. we sailed together, and we had each others backs no matter how much we got on each others nerves. you were our cook. i was our swordsman. luffy was our captain and youd do anything to help him, i know you would, same as me. youre a pervert and an asshole and a damn annoyance, but youre strong. i could still kick your ass though” if the cook’s eyebrow could go any higher hes sure itd be clear off his forehead by now. 

“and you- your dream. you wanted to find the all blue.” he stalls there, engine sputtering. zoro doesnt know what else to say, so he snaps his mouth shut. 

the blonde is still gaping at him like a fish, but he mouths the phrase “all blue” like hes been searching for it his whole life, like he always knew but just never had the words. 

he blinks. 

then he blinks again, rapidly. there are tears pooling in his eyes. his mouth flaps for a moment before he seems to finally be able to push out words. 

“you- zoro?” he sounds small. he sounds hopeful. zoro grins. 

“yeah, yeah its me.” sanji stares at him a moment, then looks around, as if hes seeing everything with clear eyes for the very first time. zoro figures he might as well be. 

“holy shit. holy shit.” 

zoro laughs, a rough thing. theres a ball in his throat that he cant seem to dislodge. “nice to have you back, curly brow” sanji’s gaze snaps back to him before he scowls and tries wiping away the tears that are now streaking down his cheeks. its useless though, it seems they cant stop. zoro laughs again at the sorry state of the asshole in front of him, this time more full and genuine. he feels so relieved he doesnt know what to do with himself. 

“yeah yeah, whatever dick head.” sanji grumbles. zoro quiets down, glances away, lets him have his moment. “fuck, mosshead, im still on the clock and you unload all this on me? how the hell am i supposed to finish the rest of my shift?” his words are sharp but he doesnt sound angry at all. in fact, when zoro turns back to look, hes smiling. 

“you remember now though, dont you?” he has to be sure. 

“what does it look like, dumbass? think im tearin’ up cuz of pollen or some shit?” the cook rolls his eye. theyre both silent for a moment, trapped in their own heads, before he speaks up again. “so, what now?” zoro doesnt even have to think before he answers “we find everyone else, obviously.” “well no shit, but how?” zoro glances to the side. “i was hoping youd figure that out” sanji stares before bursting out laughing. zoro scowls and hunches into his shoulders. 

“of course!” sanji cackles “of course your dumbass wouldnt know what to do! you probably just typed in the most recognizable place you could remember and hoped one of us would be there!” zoro doesn’t answer, because yes thats what he fucking did, but it worked didnt it? he doesnt see whats so funny. 

“fuck you.” 

he wants nothing more than to bash that smarmy mouth in, but the familiar egging settles something in his soul. sanji gasps a few breaths before calming down, now wiping tears from his eyes for a completely different reason. 

“alright alright, well lets figure this out then, yeah? we figure out how we got here then we can figure out how to get back right? simple enough” 

zoro nods, “law was-“ he stops. remembers dull eyes and clammy skin and wrong wrong wrong. he shakes his head, “no, no we cant” sanji looks at him confused. 

“we cant go back,” zoro presses, “not until i fix things. i promised i would” the other man seems to pick up on his panic and his mood dampens, becomes more serious. “promised what?” 

zoros never been one to sugarcoat, but now he wishes he could find a way to soften the blow hes about to deal. he inhales, pushes the breath out. says, “luffy died, sanji.” the fact the hes actually using the other mans name seems to fly right over his head in favor of the first part. “what?” zoro huffs, is he really gonna make him say it again? “luffy di-“ sanji interrupts, angry now, fists clenched and whitened from the pressure “i heard what you said. but what do you mean.” 

he doesnt want to have to tell sanji what happened, doesnt want to talk about it at all, wants to slice it up into small enough pieces that it very well may have never existed.

he told law the others wouldn't have to know, that he would make sure of it, but he's realizing now just how unrealistic that is. as much faith as zoro places in his own abilities, he's aware he's only one man.

and, he figures, if there's anyone i can trust enough to share a burden heavy as this with, might as well be the one who's strength i'd count on just as much as my own.

sanji cant help if he doesnt know what went down once they got separated at laughtale, so zoro sets his shoulders, clenches his fists, prepares himself like hes riding into a battle he knows he has no chance of winning—hes the first mate for fucks sake—and resigns himself to filling the other man in on every horrible detail

by the end, the cook looks much the same as zoro feels, pale-faced and shaky. he runs a trembling hand through his hair and clenches his eye shut. “fuck mosshead, thats…” he doesnt bother finishing, and zoro stays silent—already knowing just how much of a shitty situation it is that theyve found themselves in.

—

(btw the reason sanji was so smug about what zoro randomly chose on the menu is bc its one of their most expensive dishes. even upon regaining his memories he still makes zoro pay it cuz hes an asshole like that. business is business 😁)

uuummm i dont feel like detailing the rest basically my idea is that they work together to try and track down all the members as well as law, since hes also a part of this. i dont know how or when or in what order but i do know finding luffy would come last. so yes its zolu but for a majority of it more in spirit than anything. maybe i can throw in some luffy pov of him living with ace and sabo . he knows something is off but cant place his finger on what. he knows something is missing but hes got his brothers with him so what else could he possibly need? etc etc. you get the idea

[laurfilijames]

Moooooood of the day.

[yujeong]

what can u say abt people who says korn cheated tonkla cheated.. because now that i know that they were in a relationship and not just a sugarbaby fuckbuddy thingy then cheating really took place but in korn's place don't u think tonkla allowed it... im sure he knows abt fasai... dont u think theyve talked abt it before.??

I'm going to be real with you anon, I need people to calm down about the cheating allegations at both Tonkla and Korn and the reason for that is because it doesn't matter in the slightest: based on what we've seen so far, Korn and Tonkla's relationship is far more complex than what it's been given credit for. First of all, the relationship has remained a secret since it began. That's what Korn's promise is based on - he knew he had to be in a higher position than the one he was back then in order to have the power to support his relationship with Tonkla publicly. What he never accounted for, though, was what his gaining power through his family would entail. That's where Fasai comes in. We only got 2 scenes of them together, but they were enough for me to understand at least the basics of their dynamic. Fasai helps Korn run his part of the business and Korn, in return, submits to her. This takes the form of sex, but again, sex is not the point. The submission is. Tonkla knows. Tonkla has always known. It's what his "You said it." was about, his hesitation to get Korn's pinky finger interlaced with his own, because he didn't quite believe Korn when he promised. Now, I have to make something perfectly clear here: Tonkla didn't allow anything because it wasn't his place to. He doesn't have a say in what Korn does and he knows it. He didn't show any hints of surprise when Korn mentioned Fasai to his father on the phone, because he knows and he has to live with it. That's why it hurts him and that's why he hooked up with Win and continues to keep him close. He's lonely, his needs with Korn aren't met, so he has to look for fulfillment elsewhere. Did they both cheat? Technically, yes. Does it matter? In a narrative sense yes, but not in the way people talk about. Do I care? No, because I'm interested in other things about their dynamic.

[vanmarkus]

Wip Wednesday ☔️

Tagged and tagging @diazsdimples @theotherbuckley @exhuastedpigeon @nmcggg @disasterbuckdiaz @ladydorian05 @daffi-990 and my lovelies @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns mwuah mwuah💛💛

Guess what, guys? The first chapter of the mudslide fic is getting posted tomorrow! Which is just so unbelievable to me?? Despite posting 10 fics prior to this one, it was the first fic I started writing for this ship and I've been working on it (on and off) since september and now here we are... absolute bonkers if you ask me.

Now, I know there are like 4 people who are actually interested in this fic – and that's fine, honestly –, but I for one am very excited. So I thought I'd give you guys a longer snippet for today. I actually shared parts of this scene in like 3 different instalments from both of their povs lmao but this one is from chapter one so you'll get the full(ish) picture tomorrow.

“Eddie, a-are you sure you’re alright?” “Yeah, sorry. I guess I’m just tired.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Eddie, if there’s something going on, you have to tell me.” “There’s nothing going on, I promise.” Buck raised his eyebrows challengingly and as it had so many times before, it made Eddie sigh in defeat. “It’s. It’s the weather.” He gave in with a heavy sigh and it didn’t quite stop Buck from frowning, but he had to admit, it made sense. It’s been raining for over two weeks now as a storm came to California and Buck would be lying if he said that it didn’t affect him in any way, but he was handling it. The only thing he didn’t account for was that maybe Eddie wasn’t. “Hey, it’s okay.” Buck stepped closer and for some reason Eddie was avoiding his gaze now, so he didn’t stop walking until they were standing toe to toe, the proximity forcing his eyes back onto Buck’s face. “Look. This?” He pulled the neckline of his shirt aside to show Eddie more of the scarring over his neck and chest. “This is a reminder that I pulled through.” He knew what kind of marks a lighting strike could leave on someone’s body, but he never really got to see his own. By the time he woke up from his coma, the patterns were gone — unlike the painful and itchy blisters that took over their place; they lasted for nearly two months and despite all the cold compresses and cooling gels, they still left a hefty amount of scar tissue behind, in the shape of abstract lines and ragged edges. Eddie reached out and traced some of the lines above his collarbone with his fingers and Buck couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter shut for a second with the softness of his touch. The pads of his fingers were warm as they brushed over the shiny silver lines and patches, yet Buck could still feel goosebumps build on his forearms and thighs with every microinch he covered. Suddenly, Eddie’s fingers were gone, pulled away abruptly, almost as if they got burned by the contact, leaving his hand to float in the air between them aimlessly. “Sorry.” Eddie whispered and they were just so close. All the what ifs have started to murmur in the back of Buck’s skull with renewed vigor, buzzing like radio static behind his eyes, begging to be turned up for clarity. “Eddie I—” “It’s okay, Buck.” He flattened his palm over Buck’s heart, only the thin layer of his shirt separating them now. “Thank you, for this.” Eddie patted his chest and stepped back, leaving Buck dumbfounded as to what exactly just happened.

[velvet-paradox]

Heartstrings (Part One)

Fandom: Sleep Token (Band) Pairing: eventual Vessel x Female reader Length: Medium Summary: Memories haunt our beloved frontman, some he'd like to forget and some he's been hiding. Warnings: eventual NSFW, 18 + ONLY, strong language, tobacco use, alcohol consumption, supernatural (no, not the show) element, a twisted little game. Tagging: @synnersaint as always, @megangovier20 

NOTES: I’ll be reposting to @roman-is-a-horse as well as that’s my little hole in the wall for all things masked men and Sleep Token

ENJOY!!!

He's exhausted. He's all sweat and grit, dirt beneath his fingernails, mud on his boots. 

He could care less. 

What he needed was sleep. Glorious, pillow soft sleep. And the deity let him. 

He dreamt of monkey bars, chipped green paint, orange creme popsicles, a dizzy tire swing blurring in the distance, a familiar face hanging upside down from a wound up swing set. The air is light and the sun is high. He learned why ancient Egyptians rimmed their eyes with kohl. Learned the proper pronunciation for Persephone. Had his first kiss. Got into his first of many, fist fights and tasted blood and why you don't pick at knuckle scabs. The taste of woodchips. 

And then he met you.

Vessel woke with a jolt, restless leg syndrome, jerking him at the worst of times but helpful on the stage. 

"You're pretty when you cry." That silky voice that lulled him to the dreamworld sang down to him. Above his head, resting oh so carefully upon his pillow was Sleep, taking the form of a smoky red cat with six black slits for eyes. The deity grinned sharp, bone white fangs before leaping into the air at Vessel's recognition that he was indeed crying, his cheeks and lips streaked with salt. Sleep hung in the air above him, wagging its tail.

"Bad dream?" Sleep asked, resting its face on its paws like some teenager, coiling the phone cord, awaiting the latest hallway gossip.

"I'm fine," Vessel sniffled and turned on his side, an attempt to ignore his maker.

Sleep rolled onto its' back, little red paws pointing up to the ceiling before floating in front of his face and purred. "That's not what I asked."

Vessel blamed it on his uncomfortableness, the bed was cold and the sheets icy against his bare legs. Sleep wasn't buying it, squinting all six eyes at him as he tossed and turned for the rest of the night. ....

"That's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair, brother, get used to it."

"You big troll, that's the last can!"

"Watch it you little gremlin or I'll step on you and put you out like a light."

Brotherly threats floated up stairs along with the smell of someone cooking breakfast. Cinnamon butter, scrambled eggs, no doubt since his heathen brothers refused to eat them any other way. Roasted earthy mushrooms, peppered bacon.

Vessel clung to the staircase watching three others maneuver around someone's rented home in the highlands. Through a large bay window he could make out the silky green grass and sparkling yellow daffodils dancing in the wind.

SpaghettiOs. 

III and IV were giving II shit in between grabbing plates, poor thing was jumping up and missing terribly the can of the tomato sauced rings. Vessel shook his head and jumped down the last two steps before they all stuttered to a stop, III hid the can behind his back as if he were about to be scolded.

"Never gets old, huh?" He asked and snagged a piece of less burnt bacon.

"Not a chance." III resumed his taunts until II gave up, growling low in his throat and angrily shut off the stovetop, marching outside into the daylight.

"Package came for you this morning." IV mumbled through a mouthful of eggs as he found him out on the porch swing. Vessel took the box with more questions than answers.

"Who knows we're here?"

IV shrugged and joined him on the bench, crossing his legs as the wooden slats swayed.

Vessel looked it over. Just a standard brown box, wrapped in a weeks worth of clear packing tape. Just several stamps -international corners, a beating or two in a mail office dented one of the boxes sides. He took the switchblade IV handed him, scoring the edged until it came loose.

He shook whatever was hidden, another box came tumbling out into his lap along with a folded piece of cardstock. He handed it over. Though as he dug around inside, he should've looked at the note first because IV's eyes, already on the large spectrum, had bloomed into bright blue saucers.

"What? What is it?"

"Look and see."

Vessel dropped the note to the ground as it were on fire. Explosive. A grenade of nostalgia and pain, if not sudden death.

ARE YOU GAME?

No.

No no no no no.

He could feel IV's eyes on him as he fumbled with the spare box, careful with the folds, peeling back the layers on carefully placed and wrapped tissue paper. His fingers ghosted over the jewelry or what was left of it before holding it up in the afternoon sun.

Vessel began to panic, anxiety was never far from him as he thumbed over one of the personally laid coins like a treasured rosary and if he were totally honest; it was just that. ....

Vessel had recently gotten into a band called Immortal the previous summer, expressing himself in a similar manner of covering his face (still experimenting with paint on his hands, he was always on the look out for the best greasepaint his first high school job could afford), in black and white paint, cut off jackets and ripped denim. Had attempted to look as cool as possible with a cigarette behind his ear. He never smoked it, just toyed with his mothers' addiction. The girls dug it so there was always that.

His friends chased squirrels until the popular girls noticed them, could've been a dare, could've been a prank but that didn't stop them from turning and chasing them instead. Their shrills squeals of laughter sang through the halls, tickled pink for attention in the back of classrooms.

The boys had ditched him once again as they left him at the playground, holding on to his bullet belt as he made his way, by foot, across town towards his job. He was going to be late, but the owner of the coffee shop couldn't care less; he was probably a few beers in as it was only three that Saturday afternoon. 

Louie could really pound them down.

He was almost there when he stopped short. There on a park bench were a pair of shapely legs. Just sitting there in the air. Torn fishnets with shin high striped socks and boots, scuffed and beat up, much like his own when he looked down.

He crept by slowly, curious if they were a mannequin's legs or if they were real or, God forbid they were just that. No body attached! How scandalous! 

A murderer on the loose and Vessel would be the first witness to the crime. His stomach had flipped at that.

But still, the young man proceeded forward, cautiously now as he left his usual path and got closer, squinting when he saw one of the ankles twitch. 

Vessel made calculated steps around he bench and saw- gratefully of course, that the legs were indeed attached to a body, the body of a girl his age that he'd never seen before. She was laying upside down with her eyes closed, arms bent and on the ground beneath her head so she wouldn't roll off and crack her skull. An opened can of SpaghettiOs sat next to her, along with a sad looking purse.

"What are you doing?" 

"What's it look like I'm doing, smart guy? 'm thinkin'." Was her response. She didn't even bother to open her eyes and acknowledged him. Foreigner for sure, he thought.

"Upside down?"

"I get all the cobwebs out better this way," then she cracked one eyes open, searching for him in this state and she smiled, the brightest smile he'd ever seen on a person. Stunning. Absolutely fucking stellar. "You should try it."

"Doesn't all the blood rush to your head like that?" Vessel turned his head to see her face better.

"That's the point, silly! When my brain talks to much the best way to shut her up is to rush her out, let her out. Come on, try it. There's plenty of room." She quipped and wiggled over in the bench, using her hands for leverage.

Vessel looked at his watch; twenty minutes until his shift started and he'd need to be there and get his apron on and punch in his timecard and Louie might not be drunk and waiting for him patently at the doors with a pained expression and angry, uncaffeinated patron waiting to get their fix.

He had trouble moving his body and wincing when one of the bullets jabbed his hip bone, but all in all he managed her similar position. Fucking wild. His jacket creaked when he moved his hands to the earth below, mimicking her position.

"Good job. Now watch me. Just breathe in and out like this, don't think about anything other than that and you'll be clear as a Koi fish pond."

He frowned but went along with it, looking at her as instructed he slowly shut his eyes, long legs growing tired he let them hang over the back of the bench instead and controlled his breathing.

He wasn't thinking about school or work, his thesis he had yet to start that was due in two weeks time. Not what he was going to have for dinner or which skirt II was trying to get under this week. Probably Jessica. II was always after Jessica.

"See. How do you feel now?" She asked. 

Vessel couldn't even answer her at first, too caught up in the sensations, more aware of her perfume when his senses kicked into overdrive with his heartbeat pounding in his ears like this.

"Weightless. Clear." He mumbled.

"Exactly."

Then her hand was on his, carefully he opened his eyes and his world felt like his house of cards were about to tumble down if he breathed too loudly. 

"I'm Y/N." ....

He thought about you as he ran the rest of the way to coffee shop, the little blue and white striped awning coming into view as his boots pounded pavement. He was just seconds away from being late, clocking in just in time and wrapping a brown apron around his jacket in the backroom.

He thought about as he rang up a pretty dark skinned girl, fresh faced and smiling at him.

He thought about you when a crotchety old woman barked her order and waited too close to the counter until he could brew it, which she made him do it twice. He thought about you when a regular by the name of Johnny Two-Step came in, grooving to the beat of whatever song which was playing softly in the background. 

He thought about you on the walk home, every park bench he passed by, with his hands in his pockets were shockingly empty.

Would he ever see you again?

Where you from? What were you doing here in this small seaside town? And why were you eating cold SpaghettiOs right from the can like a cat with a tin of tuna? ....

"Straight from the can?!" III asked the following day, sitting on his roof with an open notebook, ready for some action along with a stolen can of his father's beer. It would go unnoticed. They always went unnoticed.

III's dad would give a shrug and mumble about needing to slow down though he never did, he just went out and bought more, stocking the fridge in the garage for the next day.

"Never seen anything like it."

"I would hope not! Sounds like she's a screw or two loose."

"Maybe."

Maybe you did. Maybe you were what his mother would call 'quirky' or carefree, the possibility of being a hellion might be written in the stars for you too. Either way Vessel was into it.

"No no no, that's not how you do it. Here, you're just gonna' make a mess of it. Now look, you take the can like this..."

Vessel couldn't help be drawn into the kitchen of a house party a few weeks later, he'd toyed with the cigarette again, holding between his two front teeth as some girl in an obscenely short dress chatted him up outside. He told her to hold that thought and maneuvered through the bodies. Sweat and beer lingered on the air, music pulsed and couples and a possible throuple but Vessel's standards were making out in a dim corner.

The snap of a beer can had him joining the little circle around the sink. A few guys cheered. A few girls made noises, he couldn't decipher whether it was a good or a bad thing at the moment.

Vessel towered over the group, watching II wipe his mouth over the sink before slipping his trusty balaclava back up over his nose. He saw someone and when he looked, his eyebrows shot up to his hairline in an instant.

It was you.

It was really you!

You cheered in delight, gave him a high five and grinned.

"Whose next? How about you pretty lady?" You waved Jessica over, who was shy at first but followed your lead in her pink and yellow bellbottoms and halter top.

After your next shotgun you hugged Jessica who looked worse for wear and slumped against II who was more than happy to help her stand and move out out of the kitchen. II passed him in the doorway, giving him a fist bump to the shoulder, talking to his love interest, lost in the haze of beer and clouds of weed smoke.

"You! There you are you big tall drink of water."

Vessel turned just in time to see you, focused and barreling straight towards him, a look of drunken excitement on your face. You weren't stopping and then you were lunging at him, embracing him in a hug that should feel all sorts of foreign and wrong but... was welcomed and warm and you smell like floral perfume and beer foam.

You looked up at him with silly grin. "Hi."

"Hi yourself. Having a bit of fun I see."

"Wanna' shotgun a beer with me?"

"Maybe later. How many have you had already?"

You made a goofy sound in your throat, released his waist and took his wrist in your hands, dragging him outside. Something made of glass shattered somewhere inside the house as you two ducked out and sat down in a little gazebo on the property. Vines and little white flowers coiled up and around the lattice.

"You gonna' smoke that?" You asked, digging those same weathered boots into the dirt.

"You want it?"

"Can I share it with you?"

"You can have it. I actually don't smoke."

Your expressions ranged and rivaled those of a comic strip as you looked at him. "What the what?! You don't smoke, yet you just casually have a cigarette behind your ear?"

Vessel shrugged. "It's just an accessory at this point."

"Next thing you'll be telling me is you're not a real jester!"

"A jester?"

"The makeup! You're not a clown either? Some practicing mime? Although if you were a mime you wouldn't be talking, would you?" You drunkenly mused and Vessel wondered how many beers you’d already rushed into your bloodstream.

Vessel snorted and shook his head. "Afraid not. I'm just a guy."

"A handsome guy." You huffed and lit up the cigarette, leaning back on your elbows as you smoked.

Vessel snorted, unaffected by the tobacco hanging around your heads as you both looked up at the moon. Tethered to it's soft glow over the treetops. "I've been called a lot of things, but handsome ain't one of them."

You bolted upright, cigarette renting space between your teeth and burning his eyes as you grabbed his face like you were old friends. 

"That's a damn shame. I'm going to make it my mission to tell you everyday I see you how good you look. Even if you are talking mime!"

Part Two Part Three

[itsprashimusic]

also i know a lot of you are up late at night scrolling, so am i, i mean its almost 4 am and i have to leave for a trip within 8 hours...and i am here, up awake and incredibly hungry i am trying to work on part 2 for don't let me down and also a namor fic cause my brain wants me to. but i am tied between having harry at some point come back to the reader and making the reader friendzone lou or having the story have its way with louis and at some point they end up together. what should I do? btw i am working with a goddess!reader for namor😉

[deergoddeargod]

Rimster sickfic recs

The Madness to his Method - DivineVarod

Only a few months into his time on board of Red Dwarf Dave Lister becomes witness to Arnold J Rimmer's bizarre exam preparations. Everyone on the ship tells him to just ignore it, but fearing the Second Technician is in a very bad place Lister can't. Soon it is clear he was right to worry.

Feverish - just_a_dapper_fellow

Rimmer contracts a holovirus but attempts to keep it hidden due to a fear of being locked back up in quarantine. Of course, he only manages to make it on his own for so long before Lister catches him.

Take Care - just_a_dapper_fellow

Rimmer picks up a holovirus on a derelict that gives him a nasty cold, but years of conditioning from his childhood make it hard for him to accept the fact that he needs rest. Luckily, Lister is there to help.

Lovesick - SeparateWaysTogether

Lister's appendix is about to burst. Rimmer sinks into a neurotic spiral of worry for his ageing bunkmate. Who's more sick?

Shake - andimeantittosting (Saylee)

Sometimes Rimmer glitches

enjoy :)

[someobscurereference]

Insane over the awakening trio again. We fought a war together, saved each other multiple times, and I know for a fact I can trust you with my life. We have never learned to socialize normally so we can't interact in a normal environment for five seconds without dunking on each other. I would follow you through time and space and abandon everything with you. You are the living reminder of every awful thing that have ever happened to me. Our traumas make us hurt each other at every turn. We're the only ones who know what lead to each other becoming Like That. Our jobs are barely in the same area and we don't even hang out that much outside of necessities. You are all I have left. I cannot fucking understand you. I am the only one in this entire world who has the ability to even try to.

x

[elarakive]

2 days after i finished from the sidelines and the brainrot is still not fading im gonna

[lululeighsworld]

Lorah: Lilac Knight's Love

Artist: @littledashdraws

Wanted to share this commission by Dash, who so lovingly illustrated my vision for Gunter's first wife!! Although Lorah's lived in my head since 2017, this is the first time I've had her drawn. Because I'm so thrilled over this art, I put together a little introduction for her!! you can read more about her below~

Residence: Duet Mountains Occupation: Farmer •❀• Bedside Nurse •❀• Homemaker Birthday: July 11 Gender: Female Relatives: Gunter (Husband) Katerina (Daughter)* Personality: Shy •❀• Bubbly •❀• Optimistic Hobbies: Crafting •❀• Gardening •❀• Baking Age: 21 (when she first meets Gunter) •❀• 36 (at death)

A Nohrian commoner whose known the kingdom's southern mountain range and neighbouring valleys her entire life, Lorah was a recognizable resident of her town even though she kept to herself. Learning the basics of herbal remedies from a young age, she would split her time between tending to the fields and easing the woes of the sick. In adulthood, she would chance upon meeting a Nohrian Great Knight during her town's annual spring festival. The couple's engagement, after seven years of courting, had become one of the most highly anticipated moments amongst the townsfolk.

*NOT the Nohrian Queen. I named their kid before I realized what Xander's mom's name was and by that point I was already ATTACHED (tell me Caterpillar is not the cutest nickname). So now the reason they share a name is lore relevant (which is a part of this fic!).

divider by saradika