#i've seen too many friends go through this same process and every time it breaks my heart | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

junova · 4 years ago

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𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞.

notes: howdy guys, it's been a while. i've been taking a break and finally starting writing again, yay. it's been a rough few months and still treading through it, but i hope you enjoy a piece of my heart with this one.

if it's any consolation, my heart broke while writing this. </3

pairing — boxer!steve rogers x fem!reader

concept — steve has to come with terms of you not wanting him just as much as he wants you.

wc — 6.7k+ [yeah...]

warnings: 18+, themes alluding to sex, emotional cheating, soft!steve, heartbreak, kind of unrequited vibe going on, over all ✨ angst ✨

Even if it was the thousandth time to watch his body move in the ring, you still were memorized by the way he moved. You were in complete admiration of how his hips flowed so fluidly through his punches. Just like always, he was aware of your presence as you stood next to Sam and Wanda, both of them with proud smiles on their faces as he defeated yet another opponent.

Watching as they raised his arm, declaring him as the champion, something he’d been striving so intensely for, the past few months. Even if his body was bruised and littered with the hits Rumlow had been able to mark his body with and not to mention the busted lip, making him taste the blood with nearly every swallow.

It didn’t matter because he had followed through with what he had set his mind out to do. The looks Rumlow was giving him after all the smack talk he had served him was satisfying enough. Even if he didn’t think you did, he saw you standing there alongside his friends, celebrating the win of his life.

He couldn’t but smile proudly at your presence, even if the disapproval you have against his lifestyle was well known between the two of you and everyone else in your friend group.

Steve knew you weren’t a fan of the injuries you brought home in your shared apartment, the nights you actually stayed there. With Jordan’s absence from New York, you’d been staying there more consistently than ever.

He would never admit it out right, but it made his heart full. With you home, he could protect and he worried wherever you weren’t there. Even if he knew you were fully capable of defending yourself if need be, it would always make him feel better when you were close to him.

Just like him, you could confess it even to yourself, but when you were back in the apartment you shared with Steve, you’d always felt safer.

He went straight to the locker room, to clean himself up as best as he could without making his friends and Tony wait too long. He’d usually go straight to them but the group took notice he held himself back when you were around.

The first match you went to and he came up with bruises running along both rib cages, a bloody nose accompanied by a busted lip, he immediately took notice of the way you cowered away from him. Barely even looking at him as you congratulated him. From then on out, he realized how much it bothered you to see him physically injured.

When you’d come, he’d always make sure to clean himself up before. It really worked out on the days he didn’t want to be around many people. Only the stragglers from the crowd would be left, and his friends who supported him nearly every time.

As soon as he made his way over to the group, he was met with Sam’s warm smile pulling him into a warm hug. You found yourself wincing as soon as Steve did. “Easy there big buy, bruises are still fresh.” Sam let up just a tad, before everyone was congratulating him. You stood back with Tony, watching the proud smile grow on his face as he watched his prodigy surpass his monumental goal.

“You should think about coming to more matches. He fights better when you’re here watching him.” You twisted your neck so you could see his coach more clearly who was standing right beside you. “I’m sure he plays just as well when I’m not here. I still watch them everytime, just from home when it’s too much for me to stomach.”

You looked forward away from Tony, Steve coming into your line of vision as Sharon, his ex who had surprisingly shown up to corral by his side, someone you’d hadn’t seen near him in the past few weeks since she’d been out of the country for work.

“His technique and endurance is the same, but his intensity always rises higher when you’re here. I’m not the only one who notices, maybe the only one bold enough to say it to you.” Tony spoke as watched the man he took in when Steve was just sixteen.

Truly, it made his heart swell with pride to see him reach the level of success he had been dreaming for him since the pair had met. Knowing Steve for the past five years, also made him hyper aware of the girl he never seemed to shut up about, not that you’d ever find out.

No matter how much Tony was dying to let the words slip off his tongue.

“I’m just happy to be here for him.” Keeping your words short as you watched Sharon move closer to him, her hand resting on his chest and he didn’t even move away from it. You tried to ignore the ugly shade of green rising in your chest, but with him it always seemed to show.

Not that you’d had a right to, you weren’t single or emotionally available by any means, but the thought of him being with someone who had hurt him so much made you more protective of him than you had a right to be.

“C’mon little dove, have you thought about why you’d rather stay in the dinged up apartment with Steve than be with your boyfriend of three years across the country?” He pressed harder, making sure you were careful of your response. “My friends are here and so is my family. I can’t just leave everyone I love behind.” Your gaze never left Steve’s as he finally was out of Sharon’s grip.

“Steve’s here, too. You sure it has nothing to do with him?” Part of you couldn’t stand there with Tony and lie to him because you weren’t sure what was the nature of your relationship with the boxer.

Thankfully, you were saved from responding by the devil himself as made his way over to the two of you. Much to your dismay, he had to get in a few more words before Steve was in earshot. “Just think about why Steve lives with you when he’s had more than enough to move out for a while now.”

Before you could even process the words leaving his mouth, your favorite man in the ring immediately has you wrapped up in his arms. Holding you so close and so tightly, not even caring if it put more pressure on his lungs than he wished.

“Congrats on the win, Champion. I’m so proud of you.” The arms you had around him were placed gently, too afraid to put any weight on the new bruises. Not to mention the old ones which were still healing.

Once he pulled away from you, just enough so you could look at him. He hummed at Tony and with one nod of his head he knew when the young boxer wanted to be left alone. More times than not, it is usually with you.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight. Isn’t Jordan in town?” Not even when it was the biggest moment of his career thus far did he care to indulge in his victories. Always it seemed to be looking after you.

“Stevie, this is your night. We don’t have to talk about me — we’re always talking about me.” For a moment he almost bought your act until he looked into those dazzling eyes of yours, ones he never seemed to grow tired of in the past few years.

“I’m not happy unless you’re happy. So, if you need a night where we just watch romcoms and chow on cookie dough ice cream, you know I’m all yours.” Unknowing to the two of you, everyone of your friends was watching the encounter and still couldn’t believe you still were with your current boyfriend.

Or that Steve was just waiting for you patiently. Something that didn’t come easy for him around women. Before you, he didn’t really do relationships with women that didn’t end with him in their bed at some point. Somehow, much to everyone’s dismay, he managed to keep his interactions platonic with you.

At least in their eyes.

“No, Stevie. I’m fine. He just didn’t follow through this time. It’s not the end of the world, I’ll be fine. Tonight, I just wanna be by your side and celebrate you.” Although, he didn’t really believe you Steve decided he would let it go.

“Regardless of it, thank you for coming tonight. Means the world to me.” It really did. Even more so, when he felt like he was one of the reasons you were still in Brooklyn and not in California living with your boyfriend instead.

“Oh, hush bubba. You’re getting so soft on me and you haven’t even had a proper drink in you yet. Let’s just celebrate with our friends, yeah?” You kissed his cheek sweetly, before you were off to Bucky and Nat’s place to get properly fed and surely get Steve drunk off his ass.

It really was the elephant in the room you were choosing to ignore. The fluttering feeling of adventurous butterflies traveling to spaces you didn’t know existed. Everytime he pulled you close to his side or kissed your temple.

When Bucky would do something monumentally stupid, he would whisper a line in your ear humorous enough to hear you laugh. Even right now, when you knew he was exhausted, muscles sore and aching — Steve was still tending to whatever you needed.

In this moment, your body nestled between his legs as he draped his arm across your chest, letting him hold you close was exactly what you needed. Even if you tried to remove yourself several times because of the new injuries, he would never let you.

“What’s next, Rogers?” Steve watched as he craned his neck towards Sharon. You’d almost forgotten she was here, she’d been so quiet most of the night.

“A whole lot of rest and then in a few weeks, right back into training.” He spoke with pride because winning the title went hand and hand with defending it. “You should come to the club. Danielle’s been itching to see you, again.”

Steve grimaced, not just as Sharon’s words, but with how stiff your body became. The way you rubbed back and forth with the tip of your fingers against his forearm came to a halt.

You weren’t really sure what to do because now you felt horrible for even feeling like you had a right to be upset in the first place. Because you didn’t. You weren’t single and Steve was. In this space in time, he did nothing wrong.

When you followed Nat back into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine, away from him, it felt like he had made a mistake.

Just watching as you followed Nat up the pathway, in your pretty green dress, as you messed with the necklace adoring your neck. Something he learned you did when you were anxious.

“Why would you bring that up now? In front of her?” He was slightly pissed off she had driven you away and out of his arms. Steve would have you within his grip constantly if you would let him. Not that you did, but it was still a certain something he found himself wishing for. More than not though, someone else always seemed to hold your attention whenever he wasn’t in the ring.

Jordan. Tony. Sam. Natasha. Bucky. Wanda.

Tonight had seemed it might go in a different direction, until Sharon steered your mind elsewhere. One where you were a girl who missed her boyfriend. Or at least that’s what he thought.

Unknowingly to Steve, Jordan was the last thing on your mind, which allowed the guilt to settle in. Maybe, just this one time it was rightfully placed. The thoughts you were having scared you senseless — making you want to do something you knew you shouldn’t.

You just sat there on the padded bar tool as Nat grabbed a bottle of white with a bottle of red. Like time and time again, Nat read your mind just as she often did. “So, why couldn’t he come this time?” She drilled into you, her iridescent daggers as piercing as ever.

“He said he forgot his mother asked him to help her move out of the house. He said he’d make it up to me some other time.” Just like always.

But you held your tongue before voicing it to anyone other than yourself. It’d been months since you’d seen him in the flesh, and it was the first time he spoke to you in days when he informed you he’d been unable to spend any of his time off with you.

“He’s just never here and he keeps asking for me to move to Los Angeles, but my whole life is here. Before, he never seemed to really pressure me. He was always patient with me to travel at my own pace but I think he ultimately thought I would eventually go there with him.” You breathed out, scared of the truth dripping right out of you.

“I just-, you know what? Nevermind. It’s isn’t important.” She was never one to bite her tongue, but she found herself trying to when your feelings were involved.

“Tell me. What is it?” Your curious, bambi eyes peering into your soul, dying to pull the confession right out of her.

“Do you even miss him when you’re apart for so long? I’m not judging but it just seems like you’re okay. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but why don’t you ever go to him or Jordan to you?” Natasha spoke softly, afraid she might be poking the bear just a bit.

“Of course I miss him. I would see him if I could. I’m just a little too busy right now with work and my family.” You attacked back, feeling the need to defend yourself.

“Are you really going to make me say it?” With both bottles of wine on the counter, she went to grab three more wine glasses — for Sharon, herself, and you.

“Say what? What the hell are you talking about?” You pushed her as she put out the bottles of wine as she managed to link the three vines of the glasses in her left fingertips. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She was regretting it now, because maybe you weren’t quite ready to hear the words everyone else knew to be true. Anyone who was around the two of you could see it.

Perhaps, Nat never spoke a word of it because at the very least, she thought you wouldn’t be as naive to see his feelings. The ones he seemed to offer you on a silver platter, whether you wanted to reject or accept the offering, giving it to you wholeheartedly.

Following her out the patio door where the two of you stopped, not moving a step further. She didn’t really say anything either. Letting you bask in the glow before the fall.

He was laughing so hard, his hand clutching his chest as him. Golden hair shining bright by the fire pit, almost as

lively as his smile. Even if it looked like his spirit could have been beaten out of him tonight, he’d never show it.

When he had trouble keeping his eyes open, he’d force himself to stay alert because moments he could spend with ones he loved seemed too precious to pass up. Especially over the past few months — he didn’t even have to think twice about it.

Through the schedule Tony had him on, his life was eating, breathing, living boxing. Training every day in the gym, whether it be furthering his techniques in the gym to Tony making him regret any mistake he made in the ring.

Even some days he was just weight training when Tony told him he could rest. He couldn’t though. Not when he could taste the sweetness of his dreams on the tip of his tongues.

Every day, dawn till dusk, training consumed every moment of his time. Steve thought his body was restless before, but now? Nothing came even close to this.

Leading Steve to be blissfully unaware of what was actually going in that fantastically bold head of yours.

“Just spill it, Romanov.” You pressured her, but your eyes were too weak to redirect your directions elsewhere. Only Steve holding your attention at one.

“Remember when Steve left for Spain for three months with Tony?” Your body stilled, having a feeling you knew where this was going. Regretting you told her what had happened with Steve in the first after promising him it would just stay between the two of you.

“It was the year Jordan and I had split for two months.” The memory of what happened always clouding your better judgement. The way his eyes shined still haunted you. “Steve had already been there a month when it happened and the second I told him he insisted on flying me out.”

Looking at him fondly, across the greenery before speaking so softly as if he was right next to you, “I could never say no to him. I still can’t.” Nat tried to ignore it but she could see through the fog of your first love fading even if you were trying your hardest to avoid the inevitable heartache.

The care you held for him was oozing out of you, bursting and breaking at the seams. When you kept thinking of him more than a roommate, more than a friend.

“Dove, you can’t just keep pretending your feelings don’t exist. The more you try to bury the root deep the more it will grow.” You knew she was right, but you really didn’t want to hurt anyone.

You supposed you were already causing pain unintentionally. “His biggest insecurity is him. Jordan thinks I’m still here because of him.” You confessed, the ongoing fight no secret to anyone, really.

“Aren’t you?” Maybe if you had been a better liar, you could’ve convinced her but everyone could read you like the back of your own hand.

You hated the spotlight she was putting on you, but even more so because she was right. Moving forward with Jordan meant leaving someone else behind, something you couldn’t seem to prepare yourself to do.

“I love Jordan. He’s my first love and I thought he would be the greatest one, too.” You really want to stop the love and admiration flowing out of you, but you couldn’t choose who you love and maybe it was time for you to stop fighting it.

“Then, I met Steve. He responded to the ad I put out for the spare room in my apartment and we met for coffee.” If you had listened to your mother, her wishes of you not to be in the company of a man who was a complete stranger, you’d never meet the most important person in your life.

“He looked more like a boy back then. Clean shaven. No beard. Steve was still muscular, but not nearly as toned as he is now. But his eyes? They pulled me right in. Still do, every damn time.” You should have held some sort of shame, but you didn’t.

“You should do something about it, Dove. He isn’t going to be single forever.” Nat questioned as you followed her lead, back to the roaring fire.

“Nat, I love Jordan. I could never do that to him.” You really couldn’t, but you also couldn’t find it in you to move with him either. “I know you love him, but you aren’t in love anymore.” Growing closer and closer, back to the group, you saw him clearly.

“What do you mean?” Trying to ignore the pain in your chest as Natasha spoke. “I think you’re scared of ending it with Jordan. Dove. I’ve known you for a long time now and I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you do with Steve.”

The words spilling out of her lips left you a little broken — the truth spearing you through. She wasn’t wrong, not one bit. Nat never nearly was, especially when your feelings were involved. Steve had become such an enigma to you in the past year.

The line of platonic friendship and overflowing emotional intimacy was becoming too entangled for you to even comprehend.

“Just think about it. I just want you to be happy.” The rest of the night, it’s all you could think about. A few days passed and it was still in the forefront of your mind.

When Steve was walking home with you this week, you couldn’t stop wondering all the hypotheticals swarming inside your dreams.

He could tell, too.

You’d never been so quiet, not ever. He’d like to hear you, especially when you were drunk. Like you seemed to be now, at least to him but tequila that lit a fire in your chest a few hours ago was beginning to wear off. Just when the feelings you kept trying to avoid would seep there way back in like your furry, fat cat Thor when he wormed his body through the gate into the apartment.

“What’s wrong? You’ve seemed off this week.” You felt his hand kiss yours, but he didn’t bother to find it’s home. He’d been keeping his distance or at least been trying to. You'd been so vulnerable lately and the last thing he wanted to do was exploit that.

Ever since Sharon had made a comment about Danielle, and you escaped with Nat, something changed. You more guarded around him, more than you'd ever been since you met.

Steve knew there was a reason for it, but he didn't want to push you — not when it looked like you would combust into a breakdown at any given moment.

“I’ve just been thinking about where my life is going and where I want it to go.” You confessed, letting your words linger. “Jordan wants me to move with him to California and I’m running out of reasons to say no.” In perfect harmony, your eyes met his at the same time.

They weren’t joyful what his bright blues usually possess, but this time they were indifferent. Not even you could read them.

“Do you want to move there with him?” Steve asked you, his heart on the verge of dropping into his stomach. “If it will make you happy, you should.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, you watched him drift away from you.

“I don’t know. It might.” Both of you coming to a halt, walking up to the apartment the two of you shared.

“He’s insecure about you. It’s why he’s pressuring me.” The two of your bodies so close but so far away as you stood in the doorway. With a confusing gaze and pouty lips, practically guiding you into temptation.

“He used to always tell me you were in love with me. He was fully convinced, still is. I never thought so. You were just my best friend, that was it. I just never really thought about it unless Jordan brought it up.” You would have loved to blame your sudden outburst on the alcohol, but it was something you'd been dying to do.

Before you never had the guts, but you a felt a pull towards Steve lately, like maybe there was something more trying to burst under the seams.

“I thought Tony was bullshitting me, fucking with me, but I didn’t ever give it a thought. Then, Nat brought up Spain.” Nights you told yourself were a mistake, but deep down it was the probably the safest you felt in a long time.

“What are you talking about? What did Tony say?” Fetching for the key, he slid it in before opening the door for you and following you inside. “Steve, why do you still live here?” Blushing cheeks and a string of incoherent words was all you could make out from him.

As he headed for the small couch, trying to make up an excuse good enough. One which you’d actually believe, he hoped.

“You make four times as much as me, if not more. For some reason, you’ve decided to stay in this shithole apartment — it doesn’t make sense.” He wished you would make sense of it, that way he didn’t have to say a word.

“Do you want me to move out?” He questioned, watching your movements. If you wanted him to move out, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

It was the last thing you wanted, but the line between your friendship with him was always blurred. Only now, when it was vaguely pointed out by the two people close to the both of you — it became more apparent than ever.

“No, I just, I guess I’m asking why. You know you’re more than welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, but this place is a dump, Steve. Why on earth would you wanna stay here?” When he looked up, where you stood above him having a hard time biting his tongue.

Because you’re here.

It’s what he wanted to say, but he didn’t have the right and he would just be an asshole if he put you in a compromising position. He already felt guilty enough with his feelings in the first place, he didn't need to pile on.

“I guess it’s just easier to stay. It’s so close to the ring and I’m maybe a tad too comfortable.” You sat next to him on the couch. Finding yourself trapped in the green of his eyes. “Don’t you want something better?” Maybe it was him or maybe it was you. Neither of you could tell.

The two of you inched closer until Steve was caressing your thigh, just with the tip of his thumb. “I’m more than happy with where I’m at.”

“Well, I’m asking because I need to go to California. Just for a bit. I need to see Jordan, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen him.” He didn’t stop touching, not even with the mention of his name.

Even if it pierced him every time you talked about him. Or when Jordan came to town, he felt like he didn’t exist to you.

He didn’t blame you, not at all. Jordan was your highschool sweetheart, and you wanted so badly for it to work but something was holding you back. Something you were trying to let go of.

“He loves me so much and wants to start building this whole new life, but how am I supposed to tell him?” Steve said nothing, letting you sink into the ground.

“He’s been nothing, but kind and loving. Always there, always supportive. The best partner I could have asked for.” Steve laced your hand in his like it was the most natural thing in the world, making butterflies erupt at full speed.

You couldn’t really pinpoint a moment when he started, but all you knew is how safe his warm, calloused hands made you feel. Since the moment you met, never failing to comfort you when needed.

“Then what’s the problem, Dove?” Steve questioned you, untangling his body from yours.

If he was going to help you, he needed to think and being so close to you wouldn’t get himself where you needed. Above all, you didn’t make any easier when a small whine left your throat — tugging at his heart strings.

“We never talk about what happened in Barcelona.” You watched his body tighten, muscles in his arm constricting.

It made him feel just as uneasy as it did to you. At least you could find comfort in that.

“Dove, there’s a reason for it. You and I both know it.” Steve was right. His self righteous sense of nature always kicked in when you wanted it the least.

“You don’t think about it? Because I do.” Pushing weight on his heart, you were very aware you held. You weren’t too naive to know just how much he cared for you, but coward enough to try and make him admit it first.

“You were broken up, things are different now. We’re home where you have a boyfriend and I have boxing.”

“Yes, where I have a boyfriend who wants me to abandon everything I hold close to me to join him without even bothering to ask me what I want.” You puffed out, exhaustion coming in overflow. “The past year, he hasn’t once asked me what I want.”

The boy with golden locks found himself wanting nothing more than to hold you in his arms, nurse you back to health with all the love he could offer.

But even he knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t keep on spreading himself thin over a woman who was so conflicted, so distraught she was collapsing within herself. If he wasn’t too careful, he might fall right beside you.

“Before we got back together, he asked me.” You confessed, feeling better as soon as the secret flew from your mouth. “He asked you what?” Steve pressed on, a bit terrified of it truly, but even he had to know.

“He asked if anything happened between us the months I was there and I lied. Ever since we met, he’s been insecure. He thinks I’m going to leave you for him and it wasn’t the first time he asked either.” You wish you hadn’t dealt with the two of them so poorly, but with the expression on Steve’s face you knew you had.

“He knows I lied and it hurts even more he stayed with me anyways.” Steve didn’t move, his fear keeping him still.

“I don’t know how to be his after you, but I don’t know how to let go of my high school sweetheart either.” You felt trapped, in between an impossible decision. An old love, who loves you past your mistakes, past the hurt and a soulful heart admiring you from where you’re at and nothing less.

“Those nights don’t have to mean anything if you don’t want them to.” He spoke softly, his beautiful orbs catching yours in the moonlight peeking through the window.

“They mean too much to me, that’s the problem.” If he didn’t move as you inched closer to his body, planting yourself in front of him, you could tell he was straining himself.

“Do you remember the first time?” He looked confused, wondering if you truly were bold enough to speak of something you shouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. Your hand found his chest, feeling the pulse of his rapid heart beat. “I was so shy and timid the first time with you, but you guided me so well.” Too fond of the memory of him worshipping every part of your body.

The very thing he wanted to do since the moment he met you, but Steve wanted more than that. Now more than ever.

“You don’t have to remind me, Dove. I remember.” He swallowed deeply, trying to erase the permanent memory of your body writhing beneath him, moaning out his name, begging him for more.

He still found himself thinking about it. Those two months with you had just amplified what he felt even more because now he knew what it was like for you to wake up in his arms, bare skin against his own.

The way you curled into his chest, your arms wrapped around his waist for optimal comfort.

Or when he’d wake up before you, which was most days, he’d find you murmuring his name in your sleep while soft fingertips caressed your skin lulling you into a more peaceful slumber.

“I never forget, Dove. That’s the problem.” With one finger, he pushed back the hair falling in your face tucking it behind your ear. “I tried to move past it, I went on a couple dates with this woman, Danielle.” You already felt your heart clench at the thought of him with someone else.

“She’s kind, smart, and beautiful and she seems to like me. Sharon keeps bugging me to take her out again since she set the two of us up.” Steve was trying to talk calmly, but he couldn’t ground himself. Especially when you only seemed to pull back further from him.

It was weird that Sharon set the pair up, considering she dated Steve not too long ago but it seemed she could put her feelings inside if it was for your despair.

In her daunting eyes, you were the reason her and the promising boxer broke up in the first place. As cliche as it was, she offered Steve an ultimatum after six months of dating — her or you.

Steve picked you.

It wasn’t like he loved her at that point. He did care for her, but you just meant too much to him. When kind, iridescent eyes met his own for the first time Steve never was able to stop thinking about them. Or you for that matter.

Carefully calculated as Steve could be, he managed to trap you between the closed door of his bedroom and his toned body.

“But I want to hear you say something before I do.” His gaze never faltered for a moment as he played with the hem of the short slip dress adoring your taut figure.

Half of your mind was begging you to retreat into your room and forget the last time you’d been pressed up against him like this. The other half wanted to see what he would do once he knew you were in the palm of his hand once again.

You had a feeling he already did.

His beard was grown out and his silky, golden hair that almost reached his shoulders make him look even more deliciously sinful.

“What’s that?” You tried not to gulp loudly, but if you even made the slightest movement, he would notice. “Tell me you’re in love with him.” His soft thumb caressing your side, not sure if he was trying to soothe himself or you.

“Just tell me five years down the line, you see him right there with you. Just say it, so I can move on.” He couldn’t even look at you, he couldn’t take the inevitable. “Tell me we’re just friends and Jordan’s your future.�� You met his eyes, the prettiest blues you’ll ever see.

Commanding your attention without even trying — every damn time. You weren’t sure what you wanted, but you knew seeing him hurt was chipping a piece of you away. Watching his arched eyebrows furrowed in distress, fine lines being made in the middle for proof.

Soft fingertips met his skin, smoothing out his furrowed brows, closing his eyes trying to remember what you smelled like. Just like Sharon reached her breaking point, he had too. Steve couldn’t watch you any longer without being the one you wanted without a doubt.

“Stevie.” You softly whisper, before pulling him into your arms.

Even if he was double your size, he let you hold him as best as you could. Comfort him even if you were the reason he’s breaking.

The strong, persistent boxer had been transported back to the sick and thin kid he once was before all the guns and glory came. Steve was right back to where he got rejected by anyone and everyone. A time and many places where no one gave a damn about Steve Rogers, not anyone he wished for.

You watched him untangle himself from you, but you weren’t sure just how much time had passed. A few minutes? Thirty? An hour?

Only time could tell and she wasn’t really on your side at the moment.

“I’ve only found love once. Back in high school, there was this girl, Hazel. She was kind, sweet, eyes that shined like fresh honey. The first person to ever show any interest in me and I was in love with the fact that someone actually wanted me.” Steve felt his heart clench at the memory he wished to forget.

“I truly believed I loved her with every fiber in me and I thought she cared about me too, until I realized she was just using me to get to Bucky.” You watched the distress wash over him again and you wanted nothing more than to make him feel appreciated and loved. Not rejected and forgotten.

“It broke my heart for months because I truly believed I was in love with this girl who I hardly knew.” He sighed deeply, like he somehow already was aware of the soft whisper of goodbye.

“It always kind of stayed with me, not ever feeling like I was good enough for anyone until Tony found me. Graduated high school and I started training dawn till dusk until I couldn’t anymore just to start all over and do it the next day.” He was looking everywhere but you. Even if there was not a thing in this damn hallway, but two pressured hearts.

“Not too long after, I met you and I remember thinking this is the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met in my life.” Now, feeling like an absolute dick because you truly didn't deserve for this wonderful man to be in your life.

“You were so kind to me and you had no reason to be, but I learned it’s just who you are. This amazingly bright full beam, shining their light on everyone else — not paying attention to how much they give even if it’s everything they have.” Your skin felt hot beyond comparison, the passion in the words he spoke deeper than the memory of his skin against your own.

“I always tried to ignore it, how stupidly kind and thoughtful you are. How much you take care of me when you don’t have to. You cleaned my wounds for months without even asking me what I was doing.”

“I already knew you had a boyfriend, one you love very much, but I couldn’t stop myself from being around you. Now, I have to leave. I need to move on for me because I know how this ends for me — how it always has.” He sighed before walking away, leaving you hanging in every conceivable way. You didn’t notice the suitcase by the door before. Until he was walking out of the apartment with his possessions in hand — out of sight and out of mind.

“Wait!” He was already making it to his car, the old beat up pickup truck he couldn’t seem to get rid of when you reached him. “I just need time, Steve.” You’d been sprinting after him, until you caught up to him, making his attention fully focused on you.

“Jordan’s the only boyfriend I’ve ever had — I don’t know how to let him go.” You were crying because maybe, deep down you were hoping you could have your cake and eat it too.

“And you’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with, Dove. I can’t keep sticking around hoping you’ll wake up one day and feel the same.” He emptied his belongings in his truck before returning his attention towards you.

“Steve, don’t do this. Please. Don’t leave me.” You’d become so dependent on him, more than you realized. “You’re the only person who truly loves me and not for who they want me to be.” Trying to plead with him, but it felt like you were only pushing him even further away.

“Then tell me I’m the only one you want.” But all he was left with silence because you couldn’t and he already knew what you didn’t. He knew you hated change more than anything, that you’d rather stay in what was comfortable even if you were presented with a different option.

Someone you wanted more.

With tears in your eyes, you looked up at him like he was crushing you and there was nothing to stop the numbing feeling. He sympathized, maybe more than he liked to admit, it’s what he chose to live with over the past year. It started the moment he met you if he was truly being honest.

He knew there was nothing left for him, no matter how much his heart clenched at the sound of your cries. He couldn’t be the one who was always taking care of you, loving you, when you didn’t feel what he felt. It was splitting him open, and you just kept taking pieces of him away — parts of him you would hold forever.

He let you cling onto him one more time, begging for him not to leave you. He let you believe he wouldn’t as he calmed you back in a false sense of security. Until you were asleep in his soft sheets later that night, leaving you lonely in the home you’d been sharing.

With only half of his belongings with him, he pulled up to the project he had just completed. Even now, with not a single hope you would ever see it after he just abandoned you, there was still a light hope you’d be able to at least see it one day. If Steve was ever strong enough to face his heartbreak again.

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ethan-torchio-angelo · 3 years ago

Text

Oh, love

Summary: It takes a year of trial and error, of love and heartbreak, for the two to finally realize there's no one else they'd rather be with. Or in which she becomes they're photographer for a summer tour and falls in love with the dark haired drummer.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: swearing, angst, sexual content

A/N: I just want to say a huge thank you to @ethanesimp for proofreading and hyping this fic up, thank you so much amore! This is the first piece I've written for any of the members of maneskin, and also the longest thing I've ever written! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

January

It’s a call in the middle of the day that begins it all. She’s been in a shoot all morning, running around snapping photos of a wanna-be teen idol. She’s been here many times, being hired to do promo shots for someone who never makes it farther than this. But this call, she knows it’s different. She’s heard the name, seen some videos, she knows this won’t be like the rest. She’s instructed to clear her schedule for the week and to be in Rome by the end of the day.

The cold air hits her as she leaves the building, suitcase and camera bag in hand. This is the moment she’s been waiting for since joining the company, the chance to become a permanent fixture instead of hopping from gig to gig. She’s told that they requested her specifically, that one of the band members saw her collection from a festival last summer and was dead set on booking her for their summer tour. It’s all new to her, the feeling of being the first choice and not second best. She barely hears anything that’s said on the plane by their manager, too busy trying not to freak out.

It’s only a few hours plane ride, but it feels like a lifetime. Thoughts run wild in her head as the seconds tick by, she can’t remember the last time she’d been this excited, or nervous, for something. She’s greeted by more people from their team as she steps off the plane, and is quickly ushered to the villa they’ve been staying in. She barely has time to process the beautiful new city she’s in before she’s hidden by walls of an even more beautiful place.

They give her time to relax and unpack, but clear instructions to not leave the property without security. Things have been crazy, she’s told, since their winning last year fans have become more clever with their tactics. She laughs at some of the stories, but heeds the warning all the same. She’s seen quite a few things that have shaken her to her core, so she knows to be careful and wary.

Music floats through the halls and into her room, the band practicing on the other side of the villa. The music fills her veins with a feeling she can’t quite place, but it’s a welcome humming that gets her blood pumping. She grabs her camera and follows the melodies, laughing at the jokes thrown around in english whenever someone messes up. She angles herself behind a corner just right where she can take pictures while still being hidden from the band.

Her heart races at the scene in front of her. It’s a family like she’s never seen. They all seem to orbit around each other, pushing and pulling each other into their atmospheres. She watches Victoria dance around the room, bass in hand, strumming the lines to an old song. Thomas lays on the floor with a notebook reading off words, Damiano repeating them as he draws on eyeliner. And Ethan, who sits at his drum set, twirling the drumsticks in his hand as he observes the scene before him.

She captures picture after picture of their dynamic, taking the most of Ethan, who seems to have a magnetic pull to him. She only pulls herself from the moment when she’s spotted. “Sai, qualcuno chiamerebbe questo strano comportamento.”

The words are warm against her ear, and she jumps at the unexpected presence. She turns around, laughing to hide her embarrassment, trying to translate the words in her head. She freezes when she sees it’s Ethan, trying to figure out when he slipped away from the rest of the group.

“Ah, niente italiano. Er, it’s unusual, what you are doing.”

Another nervous laugh leaves her lips, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be creepy. There’s something about the way the group is when no one is watching, it’s hard to ignore, it needed to be captured.”

He smiles at that. It’s soft and warm and she feels as if the world has stopped spinning. A song plays between their hearts as a silence falls over them. There’s a beauty about him that makes it hard to focus on anything but him.

A series of crashes followed by loud curses in Italian breaks the spell that they were under and Ethan pulls himself away from her to go and manage his friends. She uses this moment as an excuse to slip away and tour the rest of the house, ending in the kitchen where dinner is being prepared. She snaps a few photos of the chefs cooking, already envisioning the blog post they’ll go along with.

When everyone has made their way to the dining room a toast is made; to new adventures, to new friends, and to family. Sweet wine and light rain makes the time pass faster and the evening flows into night easily. The group parts only moments after midnight, long days ahead calling them to catch up on sleep now.

The month flows by with days and nights blurring together. It seems the studio is really the only place they call home, spending every waking moment in the room that houses their instruments. She stays with them through the long hours, snapping photos of the weird things they get themselves up to. Her hard drive slowly fills with collections of each band member, ones for the public eye and ones she sends to them to make them laugh.

The end of the month brings a party, something small to celebrate sold out tour dates. A night out to a local bar and far too many drinks. She dances with Victoria, who has become her best friend in the few weeks she’s been with them. Damiano and his girlfriend are not far away, but much more caught up in their own world. Thomas has disappeared somewhere, no doubt warming someone's bed for the night. But through all the commotion, she can’t stop watching Ethan.

He’s sitting at a table nursing the only drink he’s had that night, planning to take on the role of babysitter at the end of the night once everyones had too much to drink. He drums his fingers on the table, following the beat of each song that plays. He seems lost in his own world, content with being by himself. She moves away from Victoria, who easily finds another partner, and makes her way to the table.

“Sembri solo,” the words fall from her lips quietly as she takes a seat beside him.

He smiles at her, “Seems your little lessons are paying off.”

She blushes at that, not realizing he’d picked up on her daily lessons with their English tutor. “Only enough to not seem like a tourist.”

A small chuckle escapes his lips, and she wishes she could bottle the sound.

“But don’t change the subject. Tonight was about having fun, celebrating a big accomplishment. Yet you’re sitting here alone.”

He sighs at her insistence, “Sometimes we don’t need to celebrate everything so publicly.”

Something pulls at her heart. She can’t imagine having such a public life, but she understands how it must feel to never have anything to yourself. Before she knows what she’s doing, she places a hand on his arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze, a light tingle shooting between the two of them.

She pulls her hand away quickly, a small blush forming on both their cheeks. He offers her a small smile to make the moment less awkward, and she returns it.

The night ends not too much later, the rest of the crew having decided that warm beds would be much more comfortable than the crowded bar. She helps Ethan herd their friends home, laughing along with him at their drunken antics. Victoria jokingly calls them mom and dad as they help her to bed, and the blush that was plastered on her face earlier that night makes a second appearance.

It’s almost morning by the time she makes it to her own room. Ethan isn’t far behind her, realizing for the first time tonight that they share the same hallway. “Buona notte,” comes his voice from down the hall.

She turns to face him, catching herself stuck in his stare. She can’t quite place the look in his eyes, but it gives her butterflies all the same.

“Buona notte.”

February

February brings more time in the studio and less time outside the walls of the Villa. While winter in Rome is not like the ones you’d experience in colder places, it still brings a chill to her bones. She steals one of Victoria's sweaters after a night spent lounging under the stars, a small break from a busy schedule.

A fire had been lit and a bottle of sweet wine was making its way around the group. She’d set her camera aside for the evening, planning on enjoying a night without the calls of work. She doesn’t know when it happens, but suddenly she’s swaying to a drunken beat in the arms of Damiano who can’t stop giggling at her two left feet. The man had not believed her when she said she couldn’t dance, but was now biting his tongue as they moved around the courtyard.

As the night seemed to come to a lull, a game of truth or dare was proposed and all were in agreement. She finds herself sitting beside Thomas on the floor as Victoria begins the game, a stupid dare aimed towards Damiano that earns him a new haircut. The night drags on in a flurry of laughter and silly dares. By midnight half the group is wearing someone else’s clothes, and the others have barely any on.

She’s moved to be sitting by Ethan, who has an arm casually draped across her shoulder. It shouldn’t feel so electric, his skin touching hers, but it does and it’s the only thing she can focus on. Her heart feels like it’s almost beating out of her chest and the blush on her face isn’t caused by the alcohol in her system.

Damiano is the first to notice her situation, and starts poking fun at her whenever it was his turn to ask her something. It started off innocent enough, small questions aimed towards her love life, but it soon caught the attention of Thomas who was the first one to issue a dare towards the girl. This was how she’d ended up sitting beside Ethan, cuddled into his side. Ethan was oblivious to the things going on around them, until Victoria dared her to kiss him.

It seems as though time stops, the laughter fades and the silence becomes deafening. She turns towards Ethan, a mixture of panic and excitement painted on her face. He smiles at her, “We don’t have to, amore.”

“A dares a dare.” She shrugs at him.

A round of cheers raises up around them as the two lean in. It’s meant to be only a small peck, something good enough to count in the eyes of those around them. But as she goes to pull away his hand reaches up to tangle in her hair and he pulls her closer. Their lips meet again without any hesitation and it’s like the world lights up around them. Blame it on the alcohol, but if she were to die right now she’d be happy.

They pull away a second later, a small laugh leaving both of them, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm.

“Awe, they’re blushing! How cute!” Comes the voice of Damiano, further pulling a blush from the girl.

She grabs one of the pillows beside her and aims it at his head, laughing when she misses terribly.

The night fades into morning and they all climb to the roof to watch the sunrise. It’s a moment she wants tattooed in her memories forever. She’s got her arms wrapped around Victoria and the three boys huddle around them, alcohol still flows through their veins and they’re all singing different versions of the same song.

March

The beginning of spring in Rome is magical. Flowers start to bloom, mornings are coated in a light dusting of rain, and clothing starts to become less of a necessity. She takes photos of the band trapezing the streets. The Villa studio has become too familiar, moving instead to a studio in the city.

By now, a routine has been put in place. Mornings sipping coffee and eating fresh pastries while she laughs at the varying states of wake the band is in. Afternoons in the studio, recording their new album while she collects photos and videos for their ‘making of’. Evenings spent in restaurants and bars, eating some of the best food she’s ever had, and she swears she’ll never eat anything better.

She’s never fallen in love with a city like this before. Maybe it’s the city, or maybe it’s the people she’s with, but she swears she never wants to leave. It suffocates her in the best way possible, the feeling of being home. She hopes that when the tours over and her contracts up, that she’ll move here, maybe even keep these people she’s grown so close to in the past few months.

She’s thrown out of the daydream by Thomas yelling at her in a mix of italian and english for not paying attention. It’s the middle of the afternoon, they’ve taken a lunch break at a restaurant down the block, and Thomas is expressively telling a story. His hands are in the air and he’s almost knocked his wine glass over too many times to count.

Damiano sits across from her, fiddling with her camera, snapping his own photos that he presents to her proudly. She laughs at every one, but never discourages his actions. Victoria is on her left, Ethan on her right, both vying for her approval as they argue over something. She’s overwhelmed by the different directions her brain is being tugged, but the hand that snakes its way into hers calms her.

She looks down to see Ethan rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand, a soft smile grazing his lips as they make eye contact. She returns it, whispering a small thank you to the boy.

That night, she lays in bed, in the room she’s begun to finally call hers, thinking of the boy with stars in his eyes. She doesn’t know if it’s feeling like she finally belongs somewhere, or the wine that still coats her veins, but there’s something about him that she wishes she could become a part of. She wants to wrap herself in it and never leave. She’s falling for him, hard. Vaffanculo.

April

It is Victoria's birthday and everyone has decided that she must be princess for the day. Ethan and Damiano have been up since dawn making an extravagant breakfast, something that should be put in a five star restaurant. Her and Thomas had disappeared shortly after waking, returning with a stack of presents that was almost as tall as him, and the best bouquet of flowers she could find.

After decorating the patio with anything and everything they could find, it was a mad dash to Victoria's room to wake her up. She protested, claiming that sleep was more important than being awake, but at the mention of presents she was the first one out of the room.

It was a morning of happiness, and a much needed break from their hectic schedule. She recorded the entire day, from the dramatic wake up call to the celebratory sparklers that were set off that night, it was all captured.

After breakfast the princess requested a trip to the beach, and no one would dare refuse her. They found something private, a little hidden oasis an hour's drive from the villa. They spend hours there, switching between swimming and laying in the sun. She finds herself alone on the sand with Ethan at one point, watching the others like proud parents.

She tries not to think about how close his body feels to her, how she can feel the heat his body is radiating seeping into her, the smell of his body wash. He’s invading all of her senses and she’s trying so hard to focus on anything but him. “Let’s go on a walk?”

His voice is warm as the question escapes his lips. She turns to look at him and she’s thankful to be able to blame the sun for the blush on her cheeks. She nods and gets up to follow him, brushing off the sand that’s clinging to her bathing suit and wrapping a towel around her shoulders.

They disappear down the beach, walking side by side, a comfortable silence enveloping them. It’s not till they’re halfway down the beach that either of them speaks. “Are you enjoying your time?”

She doesn’t miss the hint of worry that laces his voice, and she’s quick to reassure him that she is. “Yes, very much. This is probably the best job I’ve had in years.”

He softly chuckles at her words, “Good. Good. We’re trying to make you feel like one of us, don’t want you running away.”

She’s grateful for the confession, glad that they don’t see her as just another person that works for them. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He bumps her shoulder with his, a small smile forming on his face, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They head back to the group soon after, realizing they’ve let the day slip away and need to leave soon if they want to make their dinner reservations.

A small vineyard hidden in the valley, they’ve booked the place so it’s just them, and ordered every bottle of wine on the menu to taste. They laugh away the night, enjoying plates of delicious food and letting their minds wander. A gorgeous cake is brought out at the end, half of which ends up destroyed thanks to an impromptu food fight. More presents are opened and Victoria starts tearing up, blubbering about how much she loves the idiots she’s surrounded with.

They walk through the dark streets of Rome, singing happy birthday loudly in every language they know. It’s unusually cold, but she’s somehow been wrapped in Ethan’s jacket, his arm slung over her shoulder. She’s holding Vic’s hand, Damiano and Thomas taking turns with her camera.

The air surrounding them is electrified, she looks up into the sky and thanks the stars for the life she’s living.

May

The summer tour is fast approaching, and nerves are starting to set in. The already high energy group somehow is bouncing off the walls even more, making for an interesting collection of photos. Nerves are starting to get the better of them, and she often finds one of them wandering around the Villa at odd hours of the night. She’s good at being able to channel her nerves into something else, focusing all of the energy on a new project.

One night though, it gets the better of her. She tosses and turns in her bed for hours before she decides that sleep isn’t coming. Instead of lying in bed willing her brain to shut off, she throws on a pair of shoes and heads for the front door, thinking a walk in the warm spring air will do her some good. What she doesn’t expect to find is Ethan sitting out on the terrace, cigarette in one hand and a book in the other, lost in his own world.

She doesn’t mean to catch his attention, hoping to allow him this little bit of uninterrupted peace, but he spots her anyway. “Buona serata,” He rasps, voice laced with the quietness of the night.

“Buona serata, Ethan.” She returns the greeting.

He motions for her to sit down in the chair beside him, closing the book and placing it on the table. “What’s troubling your mind tonight?”

She’s not used to the way someone can read her so well, but there’s something about Ethan that brings her comfort in the fact that he can. “Nerves, I guess. I’ve never done a gig this big, never spent so much time with one group. I’m used to being moved around a lot, still getting used to being a permanent fixture I guess.”

The words are heavy on her tongue, never having voiced her worries out loud before. He takes a long drag of the cigarette hanging from his lips, “La vita ci dà solo ciò che sa che possiamo gestire.”

“Some would think you were a poet in a past life.”

A small laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head. A comfortable silence falls over them and she wishes she could bottle this feeling to keep with her forever. He turns to look at her, and it’s hard to put into words the feeling that washes over him. He’s not sure where it comes from, the urge to kiss her, but it sends him spiralling.

He reaches his hand up to brush a few strands of hair out of her face, “Le stelle brillano più luminose nei tuoi occhi, amore.”

The words and his actions cause her heart to raise and her breath to hitch. They’re close now, the closest they’ve been since that night in February, and all she can think about is that kiss that they shared.

Neither knows who leaned in first, but suddenly their lips are touching and it is everything and nothing like they remembered. While the other kiss had been hesitant and brief, this one was full of purpose. Their noses brush and their breaths tangle together, he bits her lip for a moment and a small moan escapes her. He swears it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

He grabs at her hips, lifting her from the chair and placing her so she’s straddling his lap. She tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs softly, earning a groan from the man. The sound sends shockwaves through her and she rocks her hips against his almost involuntarily. His lips move from hers to the side of her neck, pulling small whimpers from her as he nips and sucks at the skin. It’s everything she’s ever imagined and more. The feeling of his body pressed to hers, the pleasure he can so easily give to her.

She moves her hands down to fumble with the hem of his shirt and that’s when he pulls away. “While I would normally love to do that here, how about we continue this somewhere more private?”

She nods eagerly and removes herself from his lap. He all but drags her inside the villa and towards his room. She trips over her own feet and they both laugh at her clumsiness, falling into each other as he tries to catch her but trips over his own feet in turn. He leans in to kiss her again as their bodies collide, this one sweeter and softer than the previous one.

The moment passes quickly and soon she’s being dragged through the halls again, only to be met with a half asleep Damiano standing in the doorway of his room. They stop in their tracks, jumping apart, trying to act like nothing was happening. “It’s rude to have a party and not invite everyone, you know.”

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, glad that he didn’t know what had been happening moments prior. Ethan is quick to explain that they were just having a cup of tea on the terrace and were now heading to bed, and thankfully the lie is believed. Damiano wishes them a goodnight, heading back into his room, and the two are left in silence in the hallway.

“Maybe we should go to bed,” he whispers to her.

Her heart sinks, but she nods her head in agreement and turns to walk back down the hall to her room. She’s not really sure how the night was going to end, but this was definitely not how she wanted it to; walking in silence next to someone her heart aches for, pretending that nothing had happened between them.

He walks her up to her door, still ever the gentleman, and places a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Buona notte, amore.”

The words should not sound as sad as they do, and she tries her hardest to keep the tears welling up in her eyes at bay as she watches him turn and walk away.

June

How do you go back to being just friends after making out with someone? Well, you don’t. At least, not fully. They dance around each other without knowing it, avoiding any contact that could lead to something more or allude to something else, but there are still moments where the world seems to slip away and it’s just the two of them.

The tour kicks off at a festival in Amsterdam. Blue skies and sunny days greet them as they get off the plane. They have a day to explore before their first show, and no one can decide how to spend it. In the end, Victoria drags Thomas off to do some shopping, Damiano plans a trip to a few museums with his girlfriend, and she is left with Ethan.

She’s not truly stuck with him, but she doesn’t feel like wandering a forgein city all by herself. Since the night in the Villa, they haven’t spent longer than a few minutes alone together, both refusing to acknowledge what had happened.

A trip to the beach seems like the best place to be, and within the hour she’s lounging in the sun listening to Ethan read a book. It’s peaceful, the sound of the waves and his voice lulling her into a half sleep. She’s got a drink in her hands, something sweet and fruity, and she’s sharing a cigarette with Ethan. It’s a scene she thinks one would find in a movie.

She rolls herself over so she’s laying on her back, staring up at Ethan who sits beside her. She places her hand on his leg and traces random shapes into his skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her fingertips, and he tries to stay focused on the book in his hands but finds it hard to do so. “You are very distracting, amore.”

She looks up at him innocently and she can’t help but admire him. His hair is tucked away in a bun, but a few pieces have fallen out and are flying in the gentle breeze. He’s only wearing a pair of swim trunks, broad chest on full display. He catches her roaming eyes as they make their way back to his face, a smirk slowly forming on his face. “Or maybe I’m the one distracting you, no?”

She smiles shyly and looks away from him, because yes, he is distracting her, and she’s finding it very hard to not kiss him right now. He chuckles at her, reaching his hand towards her face and turning it back towards him. He leans down towards her, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

All she can do is nod, and a second later his lips are on hers. It’s sweet and slow, she can taste the tobacco on his lips and it’s intoxicating. She moves so she’s sitting up, leaning into him more, the world around them fading out until all that is left is them.

A few days later they find themselves in a hotel room in Munich. There’s music playing and everyone’s laughing. Her camera hasn’t left her hands all night, every moment needing to be captured as they ride the after show high.

She’s in the middle of recording Thomas’ one man act when a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist. She knows exactly who it is by the scent that invades her nostrils and sends her brain into overdrive. She lets out a sudden, loud laugh, as his fingers trace themselves up and down her sides, collapsing into his chest as she struggles to breath.

He picks her up and spins her around, letting out an equally loud laugh at her protests. He’s happy, and it’s something that looks better on him than any designer outfit he could ever buy.

He falls onto one of the beds, pulling her down with him. She lands beside him tangled in his arms, he’s looking at her with a goofy grin on his face. The world seems to silence around them as their eyes lock. Her smile softens and she reaches her hand over to brush an eyelash off his cheek, he catches her hand before she can pull it away and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently.

He looks ethereal in this moment, hair strewn all over the place, a wild look in his eyes. She reaches for her camera and brings it up to capture him, never wanting to forget this moment.

The streets of Prague are empty, save for the two of them walking hand in hand down them. It’s early, almost too early to be considered an acceptable time to be awake, but they continue on nonetheless. A wild craving for something sweet had brought upon their adventure, and with the look she was giving him, he couldn’t say no to accompanying her.

They had been sitting on the balcony of her hotel room, watching the sun starting to peak out over the horizon and sharing a cigarette when she had turned to him with a mischievous look in her eyes. “I want something sweet.”

The comment had earned her an offer to order room service, but she shakes her head at the idea, standing up and walking back into the room. “No. Something real, maybe a coffee too.”

He follows her in, watching her pull on a shirt to cover the bralette she had been sitting in. “È presto, amore. Let’s go to bed. We can order something when the sun is awake also.”

She smiles at his words, but makes no move to stop dressing. She grabs her wallet and room key before heading to the door, stopping to turn and look at him, a question in her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll come with you.” He says after a moment, throwing on his jacket and walking over to her.

It’s 7:30 in the morning, the sun is starting to make it’s daily appearance, and they are happy. The small bakery they stumble into is just opening for the day and they’re greeted by the owner, an older lady with the sweetest smile. She speaks in broken English, an obvious language barrier between the group of them, but no one seems to mind.

She orders herself a poppy strudel and a coffee, Ethan ordering a croissant and an espresso, before sitting down at one of the small tables. He sits beside her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. He presses a soft kiss into the crown of her head and she sighs in content.

Moments like this are what she lives for. She might only be here because she works for them, but somewhere along the way she’s become part of their little family. She looks over to Ethan who’s lost in conversation with the owner, and she whispers to herself, “Penso di essermi innamorato di te.”

She doesn’t know that he hears her, his smile spreading wider across his face.

July

The turnover from June to July happens mid concert in Stockholm. She swears she can feel it, the sudden shift, a slight change in the air. She’s running around in front of the stage capturing pictures of the band in what she’s come to call their ‘natural habitat’. There’s an indescribable buzz in the air as they perform, the crowd becoming louder and louder with each song.

She keeps catching Ethans eye and there’s something primal in the way he looks at her. During a song switch, while Damiano rambles to the crowd, he motions her on stage. He tells her to get closer to everyone, promising that they won’t bite, and she giggles at him. She does what he says nonetheless, capturing some up close photos of the band and a few great shots of the crowd.

All too soon the show is ending and everyone’s piling into the car, a small party taking place in the backseat. Damiano has music blasting from his phone, Victoria and Thomas are dancing along to the beat, and Ethan is belting out the lyrics. She watches the group of them, laughing so hard her sides hurt, and she’s never felt more at home.

When they get to the hotel he’s quick to pull her towards his room, thankfully void of a roommate for the night. The second they get into the room, his lips are on hers. He pulls her close to his body and her hands tangle themselves in his hair. It’s nothing like any of their previous kisses, it’s heated and fast, every thought trying to be conveyed by the fever of it. She pulls back slightly to catch her breath and he leans in to whisper in her ear, “Join me in the shower?”

It’s not so much a question as a statement, but she nods her head eagerly, quick to follow him into the bathroom. He strips himself of the few clothes he’s wearing (most having been thrown off during the show), before turning to her. He reaches his arms out towards her, pulling her close to him and tugging on her shirt. She barely registers him pulling off her clothes, too focused on his body in front of her.

She’s never seen him so bare, and she’s having a hard time focussing on anything else. It’s not until her body hits the warm water that she snaps back to reality. He looks wild, eyes blown with lust, a wicked smile on his face. She firmly plants her lips on his, moaning into the kiss as he grabs at her. His hands are skilled and know every way to pull those delicious sounds from her lips.

It’s quick and dirty, and it is everything she has ever imagined it would be.

An hour later, she’s tangled up in the sheets of his bed, his entire being engulfing her as they watch the stars outside the window. She wonders if they are watching them too.

Paris is the city of lights, a statement she’s never been more sure of. The streets are lit with every light, shining brighter than the stars. She’s in a permanent state of bliss, after the night she shared with Ethan. Their relationship is hidden from the public, living in stolen moments and nights in hotel rooms, but she’s never been happier to be someone's dirty secret.

The band is electric on stage, something about the city they’re in taking their performance to a whole new level. The show goes on longer than it should have, but none of them even care when their manager comes over to reprimand them. They hang around to greet fans and take photos with anyone and everyone, and it’s not until security has to kick them out that they finally leave.

They find themselves in a bar, not sure what part of the city they’re in, but no one cares when the night feels like this. They drink expensive drinks that they can’t pronounce the name of, dance to songs they don’t know the words to, and feel more alive than they’ve ever felt. It’s like the world turned itself up to 11 just for them.

She dances with Ethan, not caring who sees because the night is theirs and no one cares. She kisses him in the middle of the dance floor and he pulls her into a vacant bathroom. It’s hot and heavy and the smell of alcohol envelopes them, but they couldn’t care less. Is this love? They don’t care. They’re young and dumb, and well, you only live once.

Back at the hotel they spend the night wrapped in bedsheets on the balcony, a bottle of champagne and a pack of cigarettes shared between the two of them. He points to the stars, a stupid grin on his face, “Le stelle brillano solo per noi.”

She snorts, throwing an abandoned pillow at him. He grabs her arm and pulls her into him, tickling her sides until she’s begging him to stop, tears staining her cheeks but a laugh like no other leaving her lips.

As the night bleeds into morning, and both are hazy with sleep, he whispers to her, “Sei il mio universo.”

They walk down the streets of London, his arm slung over her shoulders as she rambles away, both blissfully unaware of the few fans snapping photos down the street. They don’t notice the group of girls following them, cameras and phones in hand, capturing picture after picture of the couple.

By the time they reach the shop, the photos are already out into the world.

As they order, reposts and comments start flowing, and their phones start lighting up with notifications.

Before they can pay, she’s crying.

Rule number one of being in the public eye; never look at the comments, distance yourself from social media as much as possible, it will never end well.

The final stop in Rome was supposed to be a welcome home. A big celebration was to occur after their last concert, but now, it’s nothing more than finding the quickest way back home. She sits in one of the dressing rooms the entire show, waiting for it to end, scrolling through her social media.

She knows she shouldn’t be, that’ll all it’s doing is hurting her, making her feel worse. But she can’t stop. The comments aimed towards her and the drummer are terrible, and she wishes she could just delete herself from existence. They aren’t even dating, at least not officially, but she’s been deemed the girlfriend from hell. She’s unknowingly stolen something that never belonged to anyone to begin with.

Damianos girlfriend is in the room with her, telling her of her own horror stories dealing with fans, and she knows she’s just trying to help, but she really wishes she would just shut up. She loves the girl to death, she’s been a blessing this entire time, but she feels her mind is too far gone to be saved from the madness.

It’s only a few minutes later that the band wanders in, the usual after show high replaced with a sudden heaviness. Ethan comes to stand by her after putting his things away and pulls her into a tight hug. “Amore mio.”

He’s sweaty and could definitely use a shower, but the hug is comforting. She rubs his back soothingly, knowing this is just as hard on him as it is on her. Their management team has told everyone to remain quiet about it, disappearing from the internet until further notice while they figure out how to manage the situation. It’s maddening, the inability to speak out and protect her. He wishes he could snap his fingers and everything would be fixed, but he knows nothing is ever that easy.

They make their way back to the villa in silence, the car filled with a strangeness. She’s sandwiched between Victoria and Ethan, leaning on the bassist's shoulder, watching her play a game on her phone. It’s not how anyone wanted to end the tour, but the world is a strange and cruel place. Everything good always comes burning down.

August

There’s a party at the villa one night. Things have calmed down enough that she doesn’t spiral every time she looks at her phone, but there’s something in the way Ethan acts around her that makes her uneasy. She’s standing out on the patio, trying to avoid the questioning eyes from everyone in the house. She hasn’t spoken to Ethan all day, and the alcohol coursing through her veins makes her even angrier than she knows she should be.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees him walk out the door beside her, a small scoff leaving her lips as he tries to speak to her.

“Couldn’t be bothered to talk to me all day, what’s changed that you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?”

He looks at her, stunned. “I don’t get what you mean.”

She scoffs again, placing her glass on the table across from her. “Since London you’ve done nothing but ignore me. I get that this wasn’t easy for you, but it wasn’t exactly a cake walk for me. I needed you, Ethan, and you left me.” Her voice is raw and scratchy, the feeling of wanting to cry tickling the back of her throat.

“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how Dami does it, how he can deal with the comments and messages. My brain won’t shut off, I can’t stop thinking about how if I had been more careful, I could’ve protected you and none of this would’ve happened. I feel stupid for thinking I could have. I hate seeing you like this, I wish I could take you away from all of this.” His voice slowly lowers, till it’s nothing more than a whisper, words meant only for her.

“I was never what you wanted, was I? This was just all some stupid game to you. I was just someone you could use to get off.” Her voice is laced with pain, a small crack coming out as she speaks.

He shakes his head, laughing slightly, and turns to look away from her. He walks a few steps before turning to face her again, “No. No, you were exactly what I wanted. You were everything to me. We were the same type of crazy.”

“I don’t understand Ethan, then what was the problem? This feels like a confession and a break up all in one.” She crosses her arms and leans against the wall, watching as he pulls a cigarette out from his pocket and lights it.

The familiar sight creates something warm in her chest, memories of summer nights like this flash through her mind. Spending the evening sitting on the balcony of different hotel rooms, sharing a cigarette between the two of them while they let the events of the day soak in. She’d give anything to go back to one of those moments. He blows a breath of smoke out and starts to speak again, “I don’t know, amore. I don’t. I want to tell you I love you, to hold you and call you mine. But I can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t.” It’s not a question, but a statement.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t turn this into something it’s not. I want to, believe me, I do.” He steps towards her and reaches out his arms, “But we both know we can’t.”

She doesn’t know where the tears come from, but they’re there, pooling in her eyes. It’s only been a few months since they’ve met, there were no promises to be anything more than a summer adventure, but this doesn’t feel right. Her heart should not be breaking at the thought of losing someone she barely even knows.

He stops when he notices her state, reaching out to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. “Merda. Merda! This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

She looks up at him through clouded eyes, “Then how was this supposed to go, Ethan? Breaking my heart wasn’t supposed to hurt me this bad? I was supposed to smile and tell you that I'm not madly in love with you and these past few months meant nothing to me?”

His heart breaks slowly at her words. He never meant for the night to go this way, and he wishes he could just pull her into his arms and tell her he loved her, that everything could be okay. But he can’t, so he pulls away from her, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

They’re the only words he can manage to get out without breaking down. He takes a second to watch her, memorize all the features of her face, before turning around and walking away. It’s a sight that rips her heart out, watching his form disappear back into the house. She knows this is it, the goodbye she’d been preparing for these past few weeks, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

Before she can help herself, she’s calling after him. “Being in love isn’t a weakness, you know!” But the words fall upon deaf ears.

Vic finds her standing in the same spot an hour later. She’s got a smoke lit in her hand, the third one from the pack. She hasn’t touched her lips to any of them, but the smell and the feeling of holding it brings her comfort. She was never really one to smoke, but she found it entrancing to watch Ethan do it, and right now, it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. It’s silly, how something so small can mean so much.

Her heart aches in the most unbearable way, but she can’t bring herself to do anything about it. Vic doesn’t speak, just stands beside her. She doesn’t need to ask to know that she is well aware of the events that have just unfolded, she’s just grateful for the company.

September

It’s stupidly hot in London for the time of year, but mother nature loves her unexpected heat waves. She’s home now, having left Rome shortly after the fight with Ethan, assuring their manager that she would be able to edit and upload all of the photos and videos from the comfort of her own flat.

Vic and Thomas had driven her to the airport, had walked her all the way to security and hugged her tightly before letting her go. She’d promised to keep in touch and Victoria had made her pinky swear that if she was ever in Rome again, she’d come visit. The flight was short, and she was glad the time difference was only an hour.

Her sister had picked her up and dropped her off at her flat, and she’d immediately collapsed into bed. That was three days ago, she’d barely moved since. Someone had caught her at the airport and the photos were everywhere, articles upon articles had been released, she’d had non stop messages from everyone, but all she could bring herself to do was turn her phone off.

Her photos make it to the front of magazines, her articles getting featured all over the globe, she’s made a name for herself. She gets emails from prospective clients wanting to book her in at shows, her boss sending her information for more high end gigs, but all she can think about is her drummer boy.

Her phone still sits turned off on her desk, she refuses to turn it on for anything, resorting to using only her email, but she knows everything that’s going on with the band. She’d been asked to join them again in a few months, to become a permanent part of their team. She hasn’t been able to reply.

She gets panicky thinking about seeing him again, about the things people will say if she’s caught in the same country as him. She’s stopped receiving death threats, but there’s still comments that creep in, fans thanking whatever gods made them seperate.

Victoria tries to reach out every few days, worried about the state of person she’s become, but she can’t even manage to type out an I’m okay. The world seems to be too fast and too slow, too bright and too dark, too much and not enough. Her heart aches and it’s a pain so deep she thinks she’ll never be okay again. Love is a cruel, cruel creature.

October

She finally brings herself to go back to work at the beginning of the month. She books herself in for a small band, someone no one really knows but she hopes they will one day. She’s in Amsterdam now, trying hard not to think of the memories the place brings. The band is good, the music heavy and the beat strong. They find a way to tell a story that leaves everyone with a soul searching question by the end of the night. Do you know who you are?

She’s only with them for a few nights, a short gig, but something she needed to get the ball rolling, to remember why she was doing this in the first place. After submitting the photos and writing an article that sends another wave of offers her way, she takes a few days to explore the city. It was wonderful before, when the air was warm and it felt like there was magic enveloping the city. But now, with the change of seasons, it’s even more beautiful than she remembers.

She walks the empty streets one night, huddled in the safety of her hoodie, camera in hand, and captures moments. A couple standing under a street light, a cafe closing for the night, kids running. It’s not until she hears a laugh she’s all too familiar with that her heart stops and her blood turns cold. She turns, ever so carefully, hidden behind the side of a building, and sees him.

He’s beautiful, even more than she remembers, and he looks happy. He’s walking with two girls, the resemblance making her sure it’s his sisters, but in this light she can’t be sure. She’s never met them, but he talked about them often, and she felt a pang in her chest for the homesickness he must have felt.

She tries to run, tries her hardest to get away, but she’s in an alley that leads nowhere and he’ll for sure be able to see her no matter what. The voices of the three get closer and she starts to panic, but there’s nowhere to go and she knows she’ll have to pull on her big girl pants and face him. But her heart won’t stop beating so loudly and she’s afraid she’ll break if he looks at her.

She pretends to be busy with her camera, focusing all of her attention on settings she knows are perfect, but a voice carries it’s way to her ears. “Hey stranger.”

It’s soft and it makes her knees weak and she hates herself for it. She looks up at him and his expecting eyes and her heart breaks all over again. She can’t help it, but suddenly there are tears running down her face and she can’t breathe. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

He places a hand on her shoulder but she pushes it away, “No it’s not.” She says between breaths.

“I shouldn’t be here, I should not be here. I have to go.”

She turns to leave, but one of his sisters stops her, “Let us walk you home, please. My brother may be a dumbass, but we have good genes. Let us make sure you get back safe.”

She doesn’t know why the words calm her, but she nods her head and lets the girls lead her in the direction of her hotel. The twins, Eleanora and Lucrezia, talk to her in fits of italian and english, trying to keep her brain occupied. But her whole body is on high alert, too aware of the man trailing behind them and how much of a fool she must look like. She feels like a mess, like someone drowning in a foot of water, but she can’t help it.

They walk her into the lobby of her hotel, the girls wish her a goodnight before shoving Ethan towards her. She doesn’t want to talk to him, and he must see it in her eyes because he tries to leave. But his sisters won’t let him, they stand tall and he looks like a child being scolded by his parents.

“Can we sit?” He asks, pointing to a couch.

She doesn’t want to, she wants to run up to her room and cry, but she nods. They sit and it is silent. Her stomach is in her throat, her eyes hurt from trying not to cry, but she sits and she waits. She studies his face, the crease in between his eyebrows that only forms when he’s confused or thinking, she wants to reach over and smooth it out. He turns towards her and catches her staring, a small smile forming on his lips.

He takes her in, allowing himself to really look at her for the first time in months, and something in his heart breaks. How did he ever let her go? Why was he so stupid to ruin something so beautiful?

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out before he can stop himself. “I’m so sorry, amore. I know I can’t say it enough, I know it’s not as easy as that, but I’m sorry and I love you. So much it hurts.”

The words hit her like a truck, they knock the air out of her lungs and the tears she was trying so hard to keep at bay start falling down her cheeks. She stands up so fast she gets light headed, “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

She turns and starts walking towards the elevators. He calls after her, but she’s determined to leave, to get away. He runs after her, catching her right before the doors of the elevator close, and he wishes she didn’t look so broken. The doors slip close and she is gone and he feels like he could break something.

Her room is cold and she wishes she was home in her flat. She throws herself into the shower, the water burning her skin, and she sobs. She sobs so hard her body shakes, she screams and hopes no one can hear her.

He’s still standing by the elevator, crying now, too. His body aches in a way he’s never felt before and he hates that he isn’t holding her right now. He knows he messed up, he beats himself up for it everyday, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay, but he has to do something.

November

The ground is covered in snow. It is peaceful and quiet. He’s not used to this, the cold and the snow, but he understands the appeal. He’s standing outside her flat, or at least what he hopes is her flat, Victoria wasn’t exactly sure which one was hers. He’s bought her favourite flowers and he’s prepared to pour his soul out to her.

He paces outside her door for what feels like hours, trying to get himself to knock, but before he can, she opens the door. “Ethan?”

Her voice is soft, his heart sings at the sound of it. He turns to face her and the sight before him takes his breath away. She’s wearing a dress that shows off everything he loved about her, a coat thrown over her arm, she looks like an angel on earth. “Do you have a moment?”

She’s running late for dinner with her sister, but she’s afraid if she says no to him, she’ll never see him again. She hasn’t forgotten that night in Amsterdam, wishes she would have been brave enough to stay and talk, but she can’t change the past. “Yes, yes. Come in.”

She lets him into her flat, taking the flowers he hands her, and brings him over to her couch. “So.”

The script he’d had prepared in his head is suddenly gone from his memories. “I’ve thought this through a thousand times, planned this out a million different ways, but I can’t figure out the right words to say. I’m sorry, amore mio. I can’t say that enough. I never should have left you, shouldn’t have let things happen the way they did. Loving you was easy, and I think that scared me.”

She takes a deep breath, not sure what to say. She feels tears bubbling in the back of her throat and she hates that this is her response to everything revolving around him. He notices the shift in her, can tell she’s about to cry, “Amore mio, please don’t cry. I’ll start and then neither of us will be able to do anything else.”

She laughs quietly at his words, “I don’t think there are any tears left inside of me. I cried them all for you.”

His heart breaks at her confession. He moves closer to her and wraps himself around her. She hates how easy it is for her to melt into his touch, but she enjoys the comfort of it. “Tell me how to fix this. Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me. I’m yours amore.”

“Please, don’t leave me again.” The words are barely more than a whisper, but he hears them.

He pulls her tight to his chest and holds her. She doesn’t care about anything else but this moment and him.

She wakes up the next morning in her bed. The sun is streaming in through the windows and she can smell Ethans body wash laced in the fibres of her bed sheets. She rolls over, expecting to see him beside her, but is met with an empty bed. Her heart sinks, afraid that everything he’d said was too good to be true, that he’d left her, again. But the sounds coming from her kitchen prove her wrong.

She gets up, quickly changing out of the dress she was wearing the night before, and follows the sound of clinking dishes. She’s greeted by the sight of a shirtless Ethan, back turned to her, hunched over her stove. There’s the smell of coffee brewing and something soft playing from the radio. If she doesn’t think too hard, she can almost imagine this being a daily occurrence.

He turns around when he hears the floorboards creak, a smile on his face, “Buongiorno amore mio.”

“Buongiorno.”

He hands her a cup of coffee and plates the pancakes he’s made. She smiles at the domesticality of it all. He sits down beside her on the couch and they eat in silence, leaning against one another. Afterwards, she washes the dishes and he dries them. Neither one of them says anything until the sun is high in the sky and they are laying in bed together. “I love you.”

It is the first time she’s said it in such a permanent way, she recites it like it is a fact written in history books. He looks down at her, she’s curled up on his chest, a hazy look on her face. He reaches down to tuck her hair behind her ear and leans his head towards her, “Ti voglio bene.” He seals the statement with a soft kiss.

It’s light and barley there, she chases after his lips as he pulls away, and he chuckles in a way that sends butterflies into her stomach. She places herself on his lap, weaving her fingers into his hair as his tether to her waist. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He stares at her, memorizing all of the features of her face. He loses himself in thoughts of days spent exactly like this, of a life he hopes isn’t just a dream. He flips them over carefully, laying her down on the bed. He hovers over her, arms on either side of her head, “I’m going to show you how much I love you.”

December

“Move in with me.”

It’s early in the morning and they’re sitting in bed sharing a pot of coffee and a pack of cigarettes. His arm is wrapped around her shoulders, she’s leaned into his side, and he whispers those words.

She hasn’t yet told him about the offer from the band's manager, to become their permanent photographer, but it seems like the perfect moment to. “Yes.”

“Really?”

She laughs at his shock, “I was offered to come and work for the band full time, I haven’t replied yet. But I want to take the job.”

A goofy grin makes its way onto his face, “Do it! Right now. Tell them yes, come and stay with us. Be my girlfriend?”

He’s rambling and he doesn’t care. She smiles at him, her heart bursting with love for the man. “Okay, yes! Absolutely!”

Christmas is celebrated in their apartment in Rome. The band is there, her sister flies out and his family comes too. It is a day filled with love and laughter. They eat a grand lunch that they spent the previous day cooking, his mom brings a homemade panettone. They exchange gifts in the evening, and it is everything she’d dreamed of.

On New Year's Eve they make a trip to the villa. They sing songs and drink expensive wine. Fireworks light up the sky brighter than the stars. They sit out on the porch and tell stories of things that seem so far away. He’s sitting beside her, hands intertwined. He tells her about all of the things he wants to do in the new year and she is mesmerized by the way he talks.

There will be a moment in time when the world stops spinning and everything goes quiet, and she thinks that if that were to happen now, it would be the perfect way to go. Surrounded by the people she now calls family and the person she loves most in the world.

Fireworks go off in the distance, someone shouts out a drunken happy new year! and as time flows from one year to the next, she realizes that this is all that will ever matter.

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ghoste-catte · 3 years ago

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I was curious what advice would you give to someone new to writing fics? I've been wanting to get back into it but haven't seriously written something since high school. I hope this isn't an annoying question or anything!

Not an annoying question at all! I'm just a little worried that I won't have terribly good or useful advice. To be honest, I also sort of stopped writing in earnest right as I finished high school, and didn't pick it back up until my late 20s. It's certainly an adjustment! But I think the few things that really helped me get back into writing fic as a hobby and something I spend quite a bit of time on would be:

Write for yourself first, then find your other motivations. My original inspiration in getting back into fic writing was that there just were not that many fics I liked for my favorite pairing, and I wanted more of them, and I especially wanted more with the tropes and characterizations I wanted to see. I think at the very core of anything you need that internal spark that drives you. At the same time, for me at least, if I just relied on my own drive, I would not get much done; I need some external guardrails. So having people send prompts, or writing for particular events, or writing stuff for friends really helps me to get my ass in gear and finish stuff. That may not be the perfect motivator for you, and that's fine! You just gotta figure out what is.

Be open to inspiration. Anything and everything can be spun out into a story with the right tweaking. Obviously stuff like music is a classic inspiration source, but I've also pulled ideas from poetry, from memes, from Reddit threads, from YouTube videos, from rambling conversations on Discord and from real life to make fics out of. So many times, someone will post a silly Twitter screencap, and I'll think, There's a fic in this. And a lot of the time, there is! Research is a wonderful thing, but so is serendipity. If you're out there actively looking for ideas, eventually one that you like will stumble past you.

Find your community. I can genuinely say I never would have finished more than one fic if I didn't have fandom friends to talk to about even stupid headcanons, to bounce ideas off of, and to encourage me (and to encourage them in turn!). Discord has been a godsend, and some of my closest online friends are people I met in the GaaLee discord server. As I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've also joined general writing servers and Reddit communities and have found them immensely helpful on both a motivational level (bingos, sprints, owe-me challenges) and on a craft level (plot workshopping and writing ethics and live grammar help). It's a lot easier to think about fic ideas and hash through problem moments when I have a constant stream of fandom-related chatter coming from the little people who live in my phone! Ao3 is an amazing website, and it's great as, well, an archive, but it isn't social media by design. If you want conversation and human connection and cheerleading, you've gotta forge out and find it.

Make it a habit ... If you want to produce anything longer than a couple hundred words, you really have to set aside time for it. And writing is just like knitting or dirt biking or painting little model figurines: the more you do it, the more easily it comes. When I was first getting back into the proper swing of things, I committed myself to 30 minutes of writing per week. Just 30 minutes. I didn't even hit that goal every week, but there were tons of weeks I got on a roll and went over that amount, and by the end of the year I'd written over 200,000 words. I used to spend an hour laboriously tip-tapping out 200 words, but now I can easily blow through 1k in a 50 minute sprint. It's all about training that muscle.

... But don't make it a chore. With fanfic, you aren't doing this as a job, and you aren't ultimately doing it for anyone other than you. That means you can take breaks when you need them, you can set deadlines and then fail to meet them, you can write stuff and then decide to never post it. When you start getting burnt out, when the practice loses the joy and energy, stop. There's no 'hustle' here. In our capitalist society we're so trained to push past our limits and keep going even when it hurts us, but the hobby you do for connection and relaxation and whatever else shouldn't be like that.

Ignore metrics. Sometimes stuff isn't gonna get hits, or kudos, or comments. There are some basic 'rules' as to the stuff that does and doesn't get traction, but every time you post something it's a roll of the dice. If you're focused on watching that kudos counter tick up, you will get bummed out fast. And any writer will tell you that the stuff you think is your best work will never be the stuff that gets the most accolades. So you have to find something else to give you a sense of success. For me, it's watching my wordcount go up in my stats and those occasional comments where someone has a lot to say and that one person who always leaves me a <3 emoji (and, shout out to @egregiousderp, having someone to have long one-on-one conversations with about the stuff that never made it to page).

Don't strive for perfection. It's really easy to want your first ever fic to be a complete showstopper, the best fic fandom has ever seen, hitting all the tropes and the ideas and the characterization that you just know fandom is missing and would be everyone's top favorite if only it was written. This is a trap. No one fic can be all things. Most people who want to write an epic as their very first venture will not see the end of that epic, because they haven't put in the practice hours to make something on that scale work. That's not to say you can't start out with a big, sprawling multichap, just don't expect it to be the greatest thing since sliced bread if you're just starting out, and be okay with abandoning it for greener pastures if you get to that point. Think of the first time someone makes a vase out of clay or bakes a loaf of bread. That's never their best vase or their best bread. If they keep up with it, they'll make more and better vases and loaves. Likewise, your first fic is probably not gonna be your best fic. See it for what it is: your launchpad.

You can't edit an empty page, but you can over-edit a full one. This kind of spins off of #7, but if the words aren't there, you can't fix them. Daydreams and headcanons are fantastic (and god, how many times have I wished for a speech-to-text engine that projected my falling asleep thoughts onto a Google doc for later perusal), but they aren't fic. If you want to write fic, you've gotta get comfortable with the idea of sloppy outlines and rough first drafts. You can't build a house without a frame and you can't build a man without a skeleton (I mean, you can, I guess, but he'd be one floppy man). The nice thing about fic is that it doesn't matter if that frame is structurally unsound or the skeleton has 18 too many bones, you can clean that up in the editing process. But you can't start hanging curtains and arranging furniture in something that doesn't even have walls. That's the process. But! Also know when to set down the editor's pen and say, "Okay, this is good enough for government work", and call it done. ("Done" doesn't have to mean "posted", but it does mean, "I'm done picking at this for now, and I'm gonna go write some more stuff".) Over-editing can make stuff seem laborious and forced, and it prevents you from actually improving. To continue belaboring the house metaphor, you can spend your whole life rearranging furniture in just one room, but the end result of that is a pretty narrow existence and a room with a lot of footprints and tracks in the carpet.

Write shit down. When you have ideas, jot them down--in a notebook, in a Google Doc, in the Notes app of your phone, in pen on the back of your hand. You think you will remember that brilliant line of dialogue or sparkling snippet of narration or genius plot that came to you in a dream, but you Will Not. Write it down. Write it down. Write it down! There have been so many times when a fic was completely saved by past!me having written down my shower thoughts about what happens next in the fic, that present!me had completely forgotten about and was floundering over.

Have fun with it! Try different stuff. Try stupid stuff. Try experimental stuff. Do stuff you've never done before that you aren't sure will work. It's important to get comfortable with your niche (for example, I know I'm never going to be the sort of person who writes intricate plots of intrigue or super long 100k epics or detailed battles), but you can't find that niche unless you explore lots of different niches! Figure out what you love and what you absolutely hate, and then keep doing the stuff you love.

Okay, so that was actually TEN things, but ... I hope you still found this helpful. Feel free to send another ask if any of this was confusing or unclear. Good luck with your fic writing and, if you want, send me a link to what you've written once you've written it! I'd love to read it.

#answered #anonymous #writing advice #i guess?#am i qualified to give this?#no #but im doing it anyway

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dreamersscape · 3 years ago

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In Which I Attempt to Wreak Havoc Upon Panharmonium's Heart. Or Something.

Because I am an awesome friend, clearly, and possibly making people sad/verklempt is definitely an excellent way to (belatedly 😔 but I did start before the 15th!) celebrate Kakashi's birthday, right? ;)

I will admit up front that this is nowhere near as deftly structured and compiled as your Kakashi fanmix, @panharmonium, but that is precisely why I'm not even going to try to organize all these songs into individual playlists. Yet. Plus, I have a tendency to over-explain so this way I can better expound on why certain songs remind me of certain characters. Sorry that I sorta went a little... overboard?

Everything--except a few that aren't available on spotify, I'll link to them directly--can be listened to HERE.

What I'm Looking For - Brendan Benson | Kakashi → I may be a little biased with this one because it fits SO many of my favorite characters so well, somehow, but there's just something about the upbeat/tongue-in-cheek musical cues/delivery of lines such as 'I visit hell on a daily basis, and I see the sadness in all your faces' that just feels so Kakashi to me.

Happy Ending - MIKA | Kakashi → This is presumably a breakup song, but I enjoy it so much more in a non-romantic context (and the song itself isn't really boxed in with overtly romantic framing, so I appreciate that!). Anyway, some very important instructions IMO for listening to this with Kakashi in mind: everything before the bridge is about Kakashi up through his ANBU years, but when you get to the 'little bit of love' refrain, picture Kakashi meeting Tenzo, and then becoming Team 7's sensei, opening back up to Gai, adopting all the other leaf genin, assimilating Sai and Yamato into Team 7, and it keeps building with Kakashi gaining more and more loved ones to fill the hole in his heart, and then cry tears of joy with me! Just my personal suggestion. :D

Light - Sleeping At Last | Kakashi & Team 7 (/all his kids)

with every heartbeat I have left I will defend your every breath

→ I've seen this song used for ship vids and I'm all ????? about that because this is clearly a song about the love you have for your child! But I suppose if one of my favorite pastimes is aggressively re-interpreting love songs in non-romantic ways, I can't begrudge the opposite process... too much, lol.

Heroes - MIKA | Team Minato

your blood on me/and my blood on you/but to make you bleed/the only thing I wouldn't do/.../I wish there was a way/to give you a hand to hold/'cause you don't have to die in your glory/die, to never grow old

Long Lost Friends - Transit | Kakashi & Obito

how long/do you have to say that/this is not the person I used to know/you are not the person I used to know/.../because lately, you've been looking at me like you've seen a ghost/and isn't it obvious who's been missing who the most

→ What the heck! What the heck! What the heck! What the heck! What the heck!

Against the Voices - Switchfoot | Kakashi

'cause everybody knows/the hardest war to fight/is the fight to be yourself/when the voices try to turn you into someone else

Out of the Darkness - Matthew and the Atlas | Obito? Yamato? Kakashi? Itachi & Sasuke? Naruto & Kurama? → I'm a bit undecided about this one, or if I should just not worry about choosing one character and just let myself feel all the "inner darkness is not an innate characteristic, Danzo! They're just grieving/in a lot of pain, and they can find their way out of that dark place!" feels.

Save A Place - 1969 | Kakashi & Sasuke

so I'll keep away and save a place for you/and I'll only make the same mistakes as you/.../when all the blood all over your fingers is dried up/the pain will still linger

→ I'm not uber-confident in picking out really fitting Kakashi & Sasuke songs yet, but I hope this hits a lot of the right notes for you. :)

Thrive - Switchfoot | Kakashi

I'm always close, but I'm never enough/I'm always in line, but I'm never in love/I get so down, but I won't give up/I get so down, but I won't give up

→ See, it says right there that he's never in love! Not the crux of the song, and he's not always 'in line' either, but still! :)

Disarm - The Civil Wars | Kakashi & Obito

the years burn, burn, burn

→ I don't know how I keep collecting fictional relationships that work so well for this song, but literally every single line of this song hits so hard for these two?? Will never recover from this. (Also, I usually disregard when 'my love' pops up in the last line of the chorus, as the mood dictates. :) It's pretty incidental as is IMO.)

Renaissance - Paolo Buonvino & Skin | Sakumo & Obito & Kakashi & Naruto

let me show you one last time/let me show you one last sign/you can find it/I can't say that I can change the world/but if you let me, I can make another world for us/let me suffer all for you/make this vision all brand new/we can fight them/I can't say that I can win it all, [but] come with me and I will make my words stand tall

→ Okay, this is a very odd choice given that it's actually the theme song for a different show about the Italian renaissance (if you happen to see this, Mirjam, don't hate me!), but this could be IT! The "those who break the rules are scum, but those who would abandon their friends are worse than scum" anthem that's all about building a better world based on these principles! I really hope our sharing-a-brain talent translates to listening to this song in this way because I am feeling SOME KIND of way about this!

The Lament of Eustace Scrubb - The Oh Hellos | Kakashi → I really liked the song you chose from this album for your fanmix, so now I've feeling a tiny bit too on-the-nose with my choice, but I guess this is just a Kakashi album all around. 😆

Glass Heart Hymn - Paper Route | Kakashi(+ Obito) & Sasuke(+ Itachi)

memories as heavy as a stone/ I am empty, in my end you are my beginning

This Is Home - Switchfoot | Yamato & Kakashi (+ Team 7)

and now, after all my searching/after all my questions/I'm gonna call it home

→ All finding-where-you-belong songs are actually Yamato songs. True story!

Faust, Midas, & Myself - Switchfoot | Obito

you have one life left to leave/you have one life left to lead

→ Could this be any more perfect for Obito? It even has creepy-old-man!Madara!

Pluto - Sleeping At Last | Kakashi

Always Gold - Radical Face | Kakashi & Obito/Sasuke & Itachi/Naruto & Sasuke

all my life, I've never known where you've been/there were holes in you, the kind that I could not mend/and I heard you say, right when you left that day/does everything go away?/yeah, everything goes away/but I'm going to be here till forever/so just call when you're around

→ ...but mostly Kakashi & Obito because 'there were holes in you' 😭😭😭

Lemon Boy - Cavetown | Yamato & Kakashi → You already know the delights of this song of course, but I gots to be comprehensive. :)

Everywhere I Go - Lissie/cover by Sleeping At Last | Kakashi & Team Minato

danger will follow me now everywhere I go/angels will call on me and take me to my home/well, these tired eyes just want to remain closed

→ I chose the Sleeping At Last cover for maximum angst, 'cause sometimes it be like that.

Uneven Odds - Sleeping At Last | Kakashi

maybe your light is a seed, and the darkness the dirt, in spite of the uneven odds, beauty lifts from the earth

→ ...just like an earth style: mud wall :') Okay, okay, bad jokes aside, the seed metaphor of course makes me want to associate it with Tenzo, but this is clearly a Kakashi song!

Twenty-four - Switchfoot | Kakashi & Obito

life is not what I thought it was twenty-four hours ago/and I'm not who I thought I was twenty-four hours ago/still I'm singing spirit, take me up in arms with you/you're raising the dead in me/I wanna see miracles/to see the world change/wrestled the angel for more than a name/for more than a feeling, for more than a cause/I'm singing spirit, take me up in arms with you/and you're raising the dead in me

I'm Still Here (Jim's Theme) - John Rzeznik | Kakashi

and how can they say I never change?/they're the ones that stay the same/.../they can't tell me who to be/'cause I'm not what they see/.../and their words are just whispers/and lies that I'll never believe

→ Yeah, I might've accidentally imprinted on Treasure Planet as a 14 year old, and then someone made sure this song would forever live in my heart by making a fanvid of it with my favorite character from my robin hood show, but! He's still here!

See You Again - Wiz Khalifa (feat. Charlie Puth) | Kakashi & Obito/Team Minato

how can we not talk about family when family's all that we got?/everything I went through, you were standing there by my side/and now you gon' be with me for the last ride

→ I am being very unoriginal here, and there are in fact already fanvids made for these relationships set to this song (along with many others featuring different Naruto relationships), but I don't think I'll be able to rest until I translate the movie playing in my head whenever I hear this song now into an actually watchable format. After all, they have come a long way from where they began, and I intend to make that both as touching and ironically hilarious as possible!

Goodnight, Travel Well - The Killers | Kakashi → Admittedly, I got this idea from a magnificently crafted fanvid done for my robin hood show, but I genuinely think it would be really interesting to make something similar for Kakashi centered around the time he technically died but got better? I don't know how to explain it, but I think it fits quite well.

30 Lives - Imagine Dragons | Kakashi & all the people he's loved and lost → can be listened to here.

A Pound of Flesh - Radical Face | Kakashi

then today I wake up feeling easy/and find I'm on more familiar roads/I got a darkness wrapped inside me/but now it ain't so hard to let it go/so keep a candle burning in the window/I'm almost home

Hold Back The River - James Bay | Kakashi & life getting in the way of him being with his precious people (you may be sensing a pattern here) → @the road of life: Let! Kakashi! And his People! Hold! Each! Other!!! Also, 'tried to square not being there, but think that I should have been' is absolutely about Sasuke's defection and Kakashi adding it to his long list of undeserving self-recriminations.

The Fall - Imagine Dragons | Yamato & Kakashi → 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

Shadowman - K's Choice | could work equally well for Kakashi or Obito, I think

any time tomorrow a part of me will die/and a new one will be born/any time tomorrow/I'll get sick of asking why/sick of all the darkness I have worn/any time tomorrow/I will try to do what's right/making sense of all I can/any time tomorrow I'll pretend to see the light/I just might/.../and doesn't it make you sad?/to see so much love denied/see nothing but a shadowman inside

Paint - The Paper Kites | Kakashi & Team 7

still there's a wound and I'm moving slow/though it don't show, though it don't show/I've got a hole where nothing grows,/how little you know, how little you know

→ A song for just how much Team 7 doesn't know about their sensei.

Always Find Me Here - Transit | Kakashi → ...most likely at the memorial stone. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (why am I like this)

Taste - Sleeping At Last | Kakashi

it’s bittersweet, it’s poetry/a careful pruning of my dead leaves/it’s holy ground, a treasure chest/I'm on my knees and only scratch the surface/like fists unraveling, like glass unshattering/we’re breaking all the rules, we’re breaking bread again/we’re swallowing light ’til we’re fixed from the inside

Help - Hurts | Yamato & Kakashi

take my hand and lead the way/out of the darkness and into the light of the day/.../'cause I know what I've been missing/and I know that I should try/but there's hope in this admission/and there's freedom in your eyes/.../I can feel the darkness coming/and I'm afraid of myself/call my name and I'll come running/'cause I just need some help

→ NO ONE TOUCHE ME.

Your Soul - RHODES | A mish-mash of Kakashi & Tenzo and Rin & Obito & Kakashi and Gai & Kakashi vibes? → So like, 'oh you know when you're alone/I'm holding on and on and on and on/to your soul' reminded me of your 'when you're all alone...the only thing you really think about is dying' 'but when there are two of you...the only thing you can think about is surviving.' and now kakashi - who just saved his life - is asking him 'did you want to die' and yamato is saying 'no' there are two of them and yamato wants to SURVIVE. tags as well as Gai's steadfastness as a friend, and 'I just wanna hold your hand' made me think of Rin's "Well then, I'm just going to have to connect the two of you." while holding their hands, and the sunlight/'soul shine'/'your light' motif is just A Lot in this song!!

7 Years - Lukas Graham | Kakashi → Alright, yeah, there are already approximately a gazillion pre-existing Naruto AMVs for this song and even one or two focusing on Kakashi, but they don't capitalize on all the angst possibilities in many of the lyrics or reach the fluff potential of 'will I think the world is cold or will I have a lot of children who can warm me [when I'm old]' and I cannot abide that!

Putting The Dog To Sleep - The Antlers | Kakashi & Sasuke → Okay, on one hand, this song is One Big Oof. But I do like the (potentially odd) way I've conceptualized it for Kakashi & Sasuke? Like, the first half is Kakashi going through all the tragedies in his life and getting lost in ANBU, but then in the second half it transitions to him wanting to prevent Sasuke from having to be as alone as Kakashi once was and they can face life together? It makes me emotional!

Trust Me - The Fray | Kakashi & Obito

I found a friend, or should I say a foe?/said there's a few things you should know/we don't want you to see/we come, and we go/here today, gone tomorrow

→ There are a few lines that call Tenzo & Kakashi to mind, but mostly it's Obito & Kakashi.

The Lightning Strike (What If This Storm Ends?) - Snow Patrol | Kakashi → I had to, right? My mindscape is a little murky/scattered about what specifically I want to think about when I listen to this, but obviously it has to do with Kakashi in one way or another.

Kettering - The Antlers | Team Minato(???) → Honestly not sure if this will make any sense, but yeah, vague team minato vibes?

Swans - Unkle Bob | Kakashi & Obito/Rin/Minato/Kushina/Sakumo → They should be by his side always!!!

Looking Too Closely - Fink | Kakashi → I honestly feel rather ambivalent about this one too, but I can't deny 'truth is like blood underneath your fingernails/and you don't wanna hurt yourself, hurt yourself/looking too closely' always destroys me because... well, you know. I love suffering. :(

Souvenirs - Switchfoot | Kakashi & Obito & Rin

wolves - Switchfoot | Kakashi

snowfall for the battlefield/roses for the father's sons/see them red on the ground:/bleeding/when the revolution came/we were more than hungry men/we were hoping for more:/bleeding/end. begin again./all of my world is collision and spin/hope is a world that has yet to begin/awaken, oh sleeper/awaken, oh sleeper/a new day begins

→ I wanted a wolf-related song too. :)

PRODIGAL SOUL - Switchfoot | Obito, Itachi, & Sasuke; just all them wayward Uchiha boys

Coming Down - Dear Euphoria | kid!Kakashi & his relationships

the shell/that I wore/it wasn't for fun/it wasn't to make you/stick around/it was for survival/it was what I've learnt/it was for the sun/.../our love has grown/our love has flown

→ Another one I'm a little unsure of whether it makes sense outside of my head or not, but I like the vibes?

Ghosts That We Knew - Mumford & Sons | Kakashi & Yamato? → Hmm, can I maybe submit this as a Kakashi-&-Yamato-just-need-to-mske-it-through-this-war-so-they-can-have-a-bright-bright-future song?

All Is Well (It's Only Blood) - Radical Face | Kakashi → ...he said as he's bleeding out or after he's thrown himself in the line of fire protecting someone he thinks is a better person than himself...

Bleeding Out - Imagine Dragons | Kakashi

when the hour is nigh/and hopelessness is sinking in/and the wolves all cry/to fill the night with hollering/when your eyes are red/and emptiness is all you know/with the darkness fed/I will be your scarecrow/you tell me to hold on/oh, you tell me to hold on/but innocence is gone/and what was right is wrong

→ In a similar vein to the previous song. But goodness gracious! Were they NOT straight up describing Kakashi here?

Amaryllis - Shinedown | Yamato & Kakashi → Just tossing this one out there, not sure if it will make sense or if it's a reach... but I like it?

lost 'cause - Switchfoot | Kakashi & Sasuke

are we a lost cause?/or are we just lost 'cause/we won't be the future we refuse to see?/and if I'm your lost cause/it'll be your lost 'cause/you won't see me as I am, the possibility/that I'm not the enemy

→ 214 feels. (And before and after that, but yeah.)

Through the Ghost - Shinedown | Kakashi & Obito

so many silent sorrows/you never hear from again/and now that you've lost tomorrow/is yesterday still a friend?/.../everything that mattered is just/a city of dust/covering both of us/did you hide yourself away?/I can't see you anymore/.../did you hide yourself away?/are you living through the ghost?/did you finally find a place/above the shadows so the world will never know?/the world will never know you like I do ... like I still do

Little Talks - Of Monsters and Men | Kakashi → Just Kakashi having little chats with his ghosts, totally the most heartwarming way to conclude this section. 😅

Sleepyhead - Passion Pit | Kakashi → Just kidding! Here's a slightly less morbid song for the Most Tired Boy Of Them All.™ (Random aside: this was my customary song to listen to on my walks to 8AM organic chemistry classes; I found it strangely soothing! On a different occasion, after a particularly long day for her, one of my roommates didn't have the energy to make it to her bed but nevertheless requested a lullaby from us. So I obliged by playing this song for her, but she didn't seem to gain the same peace of mind from it as I did. 😄 I know it's not my place to propose anything like this, but it does amuse me to imagine bookends!Kakashi in these situations, even though it's not OChem classes he has to go to.)

General/Miscellaneous:

Rise Above It - Switchfoot | Ensemble

don't care what they're telling me/we can be what we want to be/.../just because it's law doesn't mean that it's fair/.../don't believe the system's on your side/.../the curse is spoken/the system's broken; rise above it

→ I mean, how could I not think about Naruto when this song also has the lines 'hear us sing tonight like the last night on earth/we will rise like the tide/like dead men coming back to life/we are rising, rising'? It's fun to be literal sometimes!

Doorways - Radical Face | Allllll the traumatized children → Someone has to put all those tragic childhood flashbacks to good use, after all.

Ghost Towns - Radical Face | take your pick of Itachi, Sasuke, or Post-Kannabi-Bridge!Obito

there's no comin' home/with a name like mine/I still think of you/but everyone knows/yeah everyone knows/if you care, let it go

Blinding Light - Switchfoot | Hey, Hiruzen? You may have coined the phrase, "children are the king" but I don't think you truly understand it... (insert Princess Bride joke here)

hey boy, don't believe them/we're the nation that eats our youth/.../still looking for the blinding light/still looking for the reason why/still looking for the sun to shine/all my life I've been living in the darkest night/still looking for the blinding light/to take me higher and higher

Brother's Blood - Kevin Devine | EVERYONE → ...but certainly so much you could do with Itachi & Sasuke, Obito & Kakashi, Shisui & Itachi, even Hashirama & Madara! Sakumo's teammates turning their backs on him and saying 'I don't know one thing about my brother's blood'?!?! There are SO MANY ideas I have for this song! It gives me chills and makes my brain scream.

We Need Each Other - Sanctus Real | Ensemble → Already mentioned this one to you, but I have to include it here for thoroughness' sake!

Whispering - Alex Clare | the Hidden Leaf's lost/ostracized children/orphans

who will care for the falling?/who will care for the falling leaves?

So this is probably a strange concept to come up with and apply to this song, but the 'whispering, whispering, whispering' parts brought Konaha's virulent gossiping/passing judgement about others and often kids they don't even know problem to mind, too, and yeah?

The World You Want - Switchfoot | Ensemble → If I were to make a fanvid set to this song, I would definitely keep a broad focus, but I can't deny that the lines 'you start to look like what you believe, you float through time like a stream, if the waters of time are made up by you and I, I could change the world for you, you change it for me' FOR SURE has strong Obito & Kakashi/Kakashi & Tenzo vibes.

Red Eyes - Switchfoot | Ensemble, but definitely many dashes of Uchihas 😄 → I would like to thank Masashi Kishimoto for creating a world where red eyes are a Thing of Importance so I can one day make a fanvid using this song in not just the tired or teary bloodshot-red eyes way, but in a very literal sense too.

TAKE MY FIRE - Switchfoot | The Will of Fire → 'Cause I think I'm sooooo clever. 😄

Above The Clouds Of Pompeii - Bear's Den | various parent & child relationships → This obviously derives from the not-caring-about-your-female-characters problem, but it always gets me that all the single parents in the Naruto universe are almost invariably the fathers! I guess sometimes you can safely guess that the mothers are still alive/exist, but either way we hardly ever get to see them. :/ The one exception I can think of right now is Kurenai, but maybe I'm forgetting another conspicuous single mother. Anyway, I don't know if this helps or hinders more a potential Naruto fanvid for this song, but regardless, it still gives me feelings?

Who We Are - Switchfoot | Ensemble → It just makes me inordinately happy that the chorus for this song starts with 'who we are (in the fever of our youth)', you know? :D

Brother - Kodaline | all the friendships we can stuff in here and then some → Quite a well known song I'm pretty sure, but I love how many dynamics one could showcase in a potential fanvid of this. And, not gonna lie, 'oh brother, we go deeper than the ink beneath the skin of our tattoos' deserves to be used in some sort of Tenzo 'n' Kakashi or Team Ro fan creation!

Special Bonus:

Shake It Out - Florence + The Machine | Kakashi & Obito → I'm not sure whether I would have realized how well this works for Kakashi & Obito on my own, funnily enough, but then I found this fanvid of it (containing only scenes you've seen naturally!) and it hit me like a ton of bricks. It's so well done!

youtube

#I do apologize for all the switchfoot/other repeated bands or artists #I wanted this to be really varied but switchfoot just has my number I guess?#I'd like to say I got it all out of my system now since I'll likely have to do a part two at some point #but that's not completely true *rubs back of head sheepishly*#also all the mentions of fanvid creation are just because I've always been a heavily visual learner/how I process stuff #--ironic given my visual disability--#so I suppose when my brain gets attached to something that's in an auditory medium it still has to find a way to add in a visual component?#anyway I hope this 60+ songs behemoth of a playlist is not too overwhelming and that the musical styles are somewhat up your alley!#I swear I'm going to jump back into our Kakashi & Yamato conversations now!#turns out I really suck at multitasking sometimes /0\#kakashi hatake #obito uchiha #team minato #kakashi 'n' obito #kakashi 'n' rin #kakashi 'n' tenzo #gai 'n' kakashi #sakumo hatake #naruto uzumaki #kakashi 'n' sasuke #kakashi 'n' sakumo #kakashi 'n' naruto #kakashi 'n' minato #Itachi 'n' Sasuke #itachi uchiha #itachi 'n' shisui #yamato #tenzo #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno

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starlightxsvt · 4 years ago

Text

Hellion

pairing: Jeonghan x female reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, idk what this is

warnings: cursing

word count: around 1.5k

A/N: Firstly, happy birthday to the Jeonghan, our con man. I know I'm a day late so forgive me for that. Secondly, I've no idea what the hell I wrote. I've cancelled two other drafts I wrote for his birthday cause none of them were coming together and in the end I've decided to post this shit. Anyway, your feedback would be really appreciated in this mess of a story :').

"What's Jeonghan doing here?" You hiss to Mingyu who has a hard time prying his eyes off of Chaeyeon. "I invited him. I never thought he'd actually come. I'm surprised too." He replies.

"Wha- why would you invite Jeonghan to my birthday party!" You glare at him to which he rolls his eyes, "Come on now, he's in our friend group. And college is almost over. You don't know when you'll see him again. Ogle him while he's still here." He smirks.

"What did you just s-"

"Oh come on, don't act like I don't know that he's your secret crush. Maybe make up with him and if you're lucky you'll get some good dick as a birthday present." Mingyu chuckles at your open mouth before scurrying away to avoid your wrath. You glare at his retreating figure before inhaling sharply. And before you can stop yourself, you start to look for him.

You spot Jeonghan at the large porch in the back of Mingyu's house, sitting in one of the porch seats while sipping beer. He looks dashing as always, his black hair messy, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight, his cheekbones getting a prominent shine. You sigh.

Jeonghan was an exhausting person to be around and maybe, he'd say the same for you. You've known him since highschool and after a particular incident of him spilling his banana milk all over your brand new scarf, you decided to call it war. To this day you believe that he did it on purpose because you told your homeroom teacher that he slept during his class.

After that it was like an unspoken rule- you two would bicker whenever you were in the same space. It only infuriated you that he was so good looking, smart, famous and the fact that you had some feelings developing for him. Each time you saw him with a girl you'd feel a bitter feeling all over and you could only hope that those feelings would pass over time. But no they didn't, they only grew- the small branches had formed a tree now, the roots planted deep in your heart.

"How long are you going to stand there and stare at me?" Jeonghan calls, without turning behind. You clear your throat before walking to him, "Didn't expect to see you here, fuck face."

"Can you not call me names for a day please? You're just jealous I'm good looking." He remarks drowning the can of beer.

You snort, "Haha. You wish, loser." You plop down beside him. "I see you've finished quite a few cans. What's up? Got ditched?" You poke him.

"What do you care?"

"You're ruining the mood here with all these sad aura around you. Go drink your sorrows away somewhere else, this is my party."

"Yet you are sitting with me and my sad auras."

"I came to tell you that," you scoff, crossing your arms over.

"Parties are not your thing, I know. And Mingyu wasn't shy on inviting people. It feels more like his birthday than yours." Jeonghan comments, still staring ahead. His words are true and they infuriate you. You can't help but get defensive, "What do you know, sad boy? I'm enjoying myself just fine."

"And yet you are sitting with me and-"

"Stop saying that, will you!" You snap. Jeonghan chuckles before looking at you. He unabashedly eyes you up and down, heating your cheeks up in the process.

"Nice dress," he murmurs. His words catch you off guard and you glare at him, "Stop staring at me, pervert."

"You were staring at me earlier."

"Seriously? Can you stop for one goddamn second?"

"You're the one who started it."

"That's it. I shouldn't have come here," you stand up to leave but to your utter surprise Jeonghan grabs your hand, sending your heart to a frenzy. "Wait."

You swallow nervously, heart thudding loudly in your chest as Jeonghan lets go of your hand and meets your eyes, "Sit down, I've a gift for you."

You frown, "You have a gift for me?" Jeonghan nods before sitting straight, setting down his can. "Before that, I need you to know something."

"W-what?"

"I really didn't spill my milk all over you intentionally that day." He meets your eyes.

You can't help but laugh out loud partially because he's still concerned about that and partially because you believe he's lying.

"Listen here, sad boy, I've put that well past me. And I know for a fact you did it on purpose so don't-"

"You didn't, ___. We've been fighting over that for our whole goddamn lives. And no, I'm not lying. I've no reason to. I never cared if you told our teacher shit or not." His chocolate orbs bore into yours and you swallow. The air surrounding you suddenly becomes thick and you start to feel jittery and maybe a slight amount of guilt. Is he really speaking the truth?

"W-whatever, I don't care anymore." You say, sitting down gently beside him.

"And yet you still hold a grudge against me," Jeonghan sighs. "Besides you're not even fun to fight with."

"What did you say?"

He laughs, his eyes forming crescents and the sweet melody echoing in the air. You quickly look away before he catches you staring, "I don't have all day. Where's my gift?"

"Yeah, right." From beside him he produces a bag that you didn't notice before. He hands it to you and you tentatively peek in, half expecting a bug to jump out.

To your utter surprise, a scarf that looks identical to the one he ruined lies there. A small gasp leaves your mouth.

"I bought it that day after I stained yours. I was going to give this to you as an apology but dear lord, you were on my ass the second I got to class next day." Jeonghan speaks and a blush coats your cheek leaving you feel vulnerable all of a sudden.

"I don't know what to say," You whisper more to yourself. Jeonghan chuckles, "I know, you're touched. It's okay, we're even finally."

You bite your lip and exhale loudly before meeting his eyes, "Thanks." Jeonghan moves his hand in a dismissive wave. "I thought I'd finally give it you, call it a truce. We'll probably never see each other again after this month and I wanted to depart on good terms."

Your throat constricts, an overwhelming sadness enveloping you. He's right, you two would probably never see each other again. His dad owns a huge business and he'd probably go abroad to manage it.

"You're right, let's call it a truce," you whisper staring at the scarf in your lap.

"Come on now, don't look so sad, sad girl," Jeonghan teases you and you roll your eyes. He's still the same.

He hands you a beer, "Have a drink with me to sign the truce." You quietly laugh, taking the can from him. You two share a comfortable silence, staring at the night sky, the music from the party fading into the background until Jeonghan decides to break it.

"I know you like me, ___." The words slip past his lips like it's the most casual thing ever. You choke on your beer before looking at him eyes wide like saucers, "W-what!"

Jeonghan slightly turns to face you, his features calm, "You don't have to act. I've known all along."

Oh. My. God.

Heat spreads all over your face like wildfire. Your first thought is that Mingyu told him. You chew your lip as you see no way out. "W-who told you?" You squeak.

"I've figured it out myself," He says nonchalantly, resting his head on his hand as you stares at you.

"You-you did?"

"Mhmm."

You fumble with the hem of your dress before murmuring out, "I-I should get going." You need to escape him. Forever.

But Jeonghan isn't done. He casually goes on, "I've always thought you were pretty. Even when you get red after losing an argument." You blush furiously as your palms sweat.

"You know I really had no intention of picking a fight with you but you...you were so desperate to bring me down. You always speak too much and I often think about the many ways I could shut your loud mouth. Such a shame, we would've made a great couple."

Your face feels like it's on fire by now. You swallow before nervously laughing, "I s-see what you're doing here...You're trying to p-prank me, asshole."

Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair, sighing, "See? There you go again, running that damn mouth." Your lips press together as you clench your fists, thinking of a way out. In the blink of an eye Jeonghan scoots closer to you and leans in to capture your lips in a kiss.

A squeak leaves your mouth as Jeonghan tilts your head, cupping your cheek. You want to pull back, smack him, call him names but you can only moan as his mouth slots against yours perfectly. Your tongues clash as you grab a fistful of Jeonghan's shirt, moaning.

When you pull back for air, you're mortified, wanting to be swallowed up by the ground. Jeonghan is totally calm as he takes in your messy state licking his lips.

"Do you want to continue?"

"W-wh-what?"

"I said do you want to continue this? If you don't want to I'll leave. If you do then you're coming home with me. Which one is it gonna be, ___?"

You bite your lip. Oh my God. This can't be happening.

You grit your teeth as every ounce of your resolve disappears, "I...I want you."

The smile on Jeonghan's face is victorious, a smile you've seen million times before, a smile that makes you week in the knees. "Good girl." He says encasing your lips in another kiss before standing up holding out his hand. "Come along, sweetheart. I'm gonna ruin you for any other man. Even when it's morning you'll only be thinking about me," he whispers in your ear before tugging you out of the porch- your heart hammering in your chest as you squeeze the scarf on your hand.

Fuck, you owe Mingyu a fruit basket or some shit now.

A/N 2: Also, that video of Jeonghan exercising made me 🥵🥵 this man is so infurating. I was literally dehydrated from watching that video.

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drivingsideways · 3 years ago

Note

hi, I've been going through your jtbc life tag, and seeing your commentary on how the writer lacked in some parts, how differently would you have written it had you helmed it?

How delightful. This no-name fic writer unencumbered by entertainment industry realpolitik would:

1. Write the elder Ye sibling as a woman. Why not? Are women not allowed grief and misdirected rage? Are they not allowed to shake the world? I submit that they are. I don't think there needs to be too much change to Ye Jin-woo's role/ characterization for this to work. The love story between the siblings remains absolutely the same.

2. HOWEVER. I would not go into a pointless red herring plot about possible murder. Ye Seon-woo and Ye Seol-hee find out about the funds misappropriation; unfortunately Director Lee passes away before he can take any action. With Deputy Director Kim in line for the job, and also their PRIME SUSPECT, ER star doctor Ye Seol-hee gets into battle mode.

3. Meanwhile! Sungkook stalwarts ( and People Who Have Had An Unspoken Thing Between Them for twenty odd years , two marriages, two divorces, and two kids betwixt them) Chiefs Joo and Oh are in the process of figuring out What To Do About the Problem of CEO Gu Seung-hyo. Chief Joo and CEO Gu clash very publicly, and Chief Joo's MORAL COMPASS and (unfortunate!) popularity with the staff make him a front runner for director's post because the Kim Tae-Sang subplot gets resolved a little faster. But! CEO Gu knows Chief Joo would be a total disaster and he thinks Chief Oh would be an acceptable compromise? So he's trying to figure out how to get an in with her, because they seem to be A Team, and she speaks her mind but doesn't do any real politicking; ffs, she hasn't even put her name on the list. How now?

4. Hello, junior NEUROSURGEON Lee No-eul of the sunny smiles and unfortunate taste in friends, but BETTER taste in mentors i.e Chief Oh's special fave. Lee No-eul is his in! She seems a sensible sort- they end up sitting having a meal together at the cafeteria when she walks up and introduces herself and they actually have a particularly good conversation about the govt’s latest regulations re: health insurance- and she adores her sunbae.

5. But how to? Enter Kang Kyung-ah, who LUCKILY has befriended Lee No-eul, VIA Ye Seon-woo, whose love for Lee No-eul could be seen from SPACE, Gu Seung-hyo thinks, but to which No-eul remains charmingly oblivious. But that's not *his * problem, he just needs No-eul to latch onto the idea that Chief Oh should be the next director.

Isn't it time this hospital put women in leadership roles, Kang Kyung-ah asks No-eul over coffee and chatter about kittens. CEO nim was honestly surprised not to see any names in senior management. Of course, the field at the moment was narrow, this was probably something they needed to work on, but Chief Oh has the chops, doesn't Dr.Lee think so? Dr. Lee does think so. Perhaps Dr. Lee should tell her sunbae that then, and y'know, drop the hint that CEO nim would be very happy to see her name on the list. (It would be great drama if this becomes a point of contention between Ye Seol-hee and Lee No-eul rather than you know Romantic Problems Caused By Best Friend Falling For Known Enemy)

5. Chief Oh knows she has the chops. But- there's Chief Joo to consider. She loves him, but god, the man needs to learn to work around things to move them forward, instead of being the tree that won't move. Plus it's a LOT OF WORK, and it's not like she's not already STRESSEDT. Alright, whatever, she's gonna do it.

6. Well, Chief Joo thinks it's a brilliant idea, and really wants her to win, but wait, WHAT, you don't think Gu Seung-hyo needs to be taken down entirely, he just needs to be kept in line? HE HAS SEDUCED YOU WITH HIS CHARM AND HIS PROMISE OF BETTER EQUIPMENT FOR NEUROSURGERY. ARE YOU GOING TO BE SELLING VITAMIN SUPPLEMENTS NOW, IS THAT WHERE THIS IS GOING? (How could you betray everything we've stood for all these years?? How can you betray everything we’ve been to each other all these years?)

7. I feel this would be a great time to bring things to boiling point with a nursing staff strike? Kim Eun-ha was a fave minor character that I would have liked to see more of, and I think her whole cause of better pay/ working conditions for nursing staff would be a great crisis point to really go all out with Our Golden Trio, as Seung-hyo, Chief Joo and Chief Oh take different positions on this, while the directorship remains in the air.

7. So, well, it's VERY difficult and there's PINING like crazy, but like, when push comes to shove, THEY ARE THERE FOR EACH OTHER OK? He votes for her of course (though he doesn't tell her that), and she brokers a decent compromise for the nursing staff AND gets him a budget for those rural clinics he’s been dreaming of, but oh no, can she ever forgive him for Things That Happened and Oh No Can He Ever Forgive Me For Crossing Sides etc. The Pining (TM) reaches such stratospheric levels that even Ye Seol-hee takes time off from fucking things up to notice. [”How Sungkook’s Hospital betrayed it’s staff by breaking the first ever strike” reads the top online story for a week ]

(What's going on with them, she asks her bestest friend Lee No-eul, who shrugs, philosophically, pats her hand and says, not something you'll understand, you have to know what Real Romance is for that. Hmmph, says Ye Seol-hee, and grumps for a week, but No-eul also notices that these days Seol-hee keeps running off to take calls in secret and it turns out that secret is firebrand reporter and giraffe Choi Seo-hyun? Oh! thinks Lee No-eul, that's adorable, and she tells Seon-woo , and they both look at each other and burst out laughing, and Seol-hee finds her life even more UNBEARABLE thanks for nothing)

7. The point is, Gu Seung-hyo thinks, the point is, Chief Joo and Director Oh are there for each other, their bond wasn't something that even his interference (for admittedly selfish reasons) had broken, and y'know what, he's not a kid, he's emotionally aware enough to admit that he'd really like something like that for himself. What would that even be like, he thinks, as he cuddles Nighty, to know that you weren't alone, and that someone would love you despite your fuck ups or for them, even? And FINE, he wasn't immune to the attraction of deeply moral men who worked 48 hrs straight and fell asleep in supply closets, and NEITHER was he unaware of the way he maybe sometimes found himself taking a little extra care of his appearance on the days he had a meeting with Director Oh, but none of this could be allowed to matter, the point is that they'd never see him as anything but an outsider, and anyway, the way things were going, he'd probably have no cause to see them every single day--

8. "Gosh, listen to this man making us reveal our age," Director Oh says at the farewell dinner they organize for him. It surprises him that it's dinner, that the restaurant is cosy, warm, instead of business-like. It doesn't surprise him in the least that the low, warm lighting accentuates the twinkle Chief Joo's dark eyes as he replies, or that it makes the red of Director Oh’s lipstick headier than the wine they’re drinking. It’s their favourite restaurant he finds out, a small joint that serves Ethiopian food, they’ve been coming here for twenty years, and everyone knows them and they know everyone, and oh, y’know, when he’s in town and not so busy, would he like to join them for their weekly dinners here?

9. But WHAT ABOUT THE ROMANCE you ask, every kdrama needs a romance, not just subtextual OT3! You’re absolutely right! Not to worry, Kang Kyung-ah is totally on the job! “How adorable is Ye Seon-woo!” she tells Lee No-eul on one of their many dates where they don’t discuss Gu Seung-hyo at ALL, “If I were ten years younger I’d totally hit that!” No-eul laughs, but is also a little embarassed, that’s like her best friend ok, and then Kyung-ah adds, “Not that he’s got eyes for anyone but you!” and No-eul goes, what? and Kyung-ah goes “what?” and then No-eul has a whole ten days (while the Ye siblings are on their seaside vacation) where she’s trying to figure out if a) it’s true and b) what she feels about it and c) then that gets VERY clarified when she finds out that Seon-woo MIGHT DIE and when they are back she’s like, listen up Seon-woo, if you have plans of dying without surgery, just gonna tell you that’s not on the cards, and Seon-woo is like, do you have an alternate plan? and Lee No-eul, neurosurgeon extraordinaire and a woman who knows what she wants, is like, you betcha, we gonna get married and have five kids, and Seon-woo is like *swallows *, “If you say so”, and she’s like “I do.”

FINI.

#jtbc life #anon you can see that nobody would ever pay me #why yes i do think jang yeo bin would be perfect for Ye Seol-hee

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nightswithkookmin · 4 years ago

Text

RE JIKOOK IS ESTRANGED

Them

Lol

JUMP CUT ALERT: This is a continuation of an ongoing discussion behind the scenes.

DISCLAIMERS:

Article 19, UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights: Every person has the right to freedom of opinion and expression which includes the freedom to hold an opinion without interference through any media.

Misinterpretation of my opinion, my words constitute a violation of my human rights. Please do not take my words out of context, share it on another platform in furtherance of your own agenda. If you do hold yourself accountable first. You are the author of your own intentions and interpretations.

I do not intend malice by my words nor do I seek to be disrespectful of any member mentioned in here. I simply enjoy mentally stimulating conversations and thought provoking discussions.

Let the records show.

MATTER OF THE DAY

Thanks to everyone that's shared your thoughts on this matter with me and thanks to that person that brought this matter to my attention.

I haven't looked into it and I don't know how severe this issue is.

I think people have the right to believe in anything they want to believe in. Personally, I don't think Santa is real but clearly others do, doesn't mean I'm sane or that they are crazy.

I don't think discussions of this nature should be about who is right or who is wrong. Everyone's opinion is valid and holds true to their own delusions. Lol.

Frankly, I prefer this kind of ship wars to the slurs and abuses and they are distributing hard core porn now?? What is going on! Chileee.

I have never believed JK and Tae to be anything more than friends. At one point, I wondered if they were even friends at all lol but since they admitted to having had a falling out themselves at one point the topic is now moot.

Tae and JK have- had- have a really special bond. To me anyways. I always saw them as the evil power twins of BTS due their ability to come together to wreck havoc especially on Bang PD's scripts. Lol. I think I have mentioned this a few times now.

I smiled to myself when I heard them call themselves partners in crime. The bond is there no two ways about it- you either appreciate it for what it is or you don't. personally I love their bond. Can't stand their shippers but I love their bond. They keep the drama going for me- love it. Lol

The question has always been whether their bond is as profound as their shippers make it seem. I argue it's not and I will always argue it is not. Lol

I think it's only fair that they also question whether Jikook's bond is as profound as we make it sound. I really can't be mad at that. All is fair in love and war- at the very least we can agree to disagree.

I mean even Jikookers themselves question the extent of JK and JM's bond. Some think they are just very special friends and nothing more. I think I talked about this in my is Jikook real post when I mentioned labels and the degree of love between JK and JM?

We know JK and JM have a unique bond. The question then is how far does that bond go. Is it just platonic, romantic or something in between?

This is the question I was aiming to answer with my is Jikook real post. My objective was to try and dismantle all the nuances that keep us from seeing the 'truth' about Jikook- that they are real. At least the way I see them.

I talked about unrealistic expectations we have of Jikook, false conditionings that often leads us to see Jikook as something more than they are- the amplified Jikook. We get used to highlight reels of Jikook's interactions in edits such that we feel there is something wrong with them when we see them in real time.

I mentioned that Jimin's nurturing nature often also estops people from reading more into his relationship with JK. He is nurturing of everyone, JK ain't special- they argue, just as this person is doing.

I talked about Jimin's Idol persona, the facade of the boy in love with JK- Jimin's role within BTS since debut and how that can equally blind us into thinking Jikook is something more or less than they really are. I have a post dedicated to this topic sitting in my drafts so I will not go into the details of it here. Please look forward to that.

But this person's post touches on another aspect of Jimin's personality that I feel is one of the things that often keeps us from seeing his relationship with JK for what it really is- his inclination for professionalism.

I keep saying this, several times now, that Jimin's Idol persona to me seems well developed, elaborate and very elusive.

I have mentioned a few times how I think during Jikook break ups that they keep it civil and professional for the sake of the team and that you might not even notice the difference especially if you place high value on their skinship.

The skinship would be there, the cordiality and civility would equally be there- except for moments when they are fighting, that gets bloody. Lol. They are best friends at the very least. It is why it's important to reevaluate the metrics we use to determine whether or not they are a couple.

I wish I could dialogue with this person to understand her assessment of Jikook and what she is using to determine whether or not Jikook are a couple and what makes her think Tae and JK are. Know what I mean?

What makes her think Jikook were a couple before 2017? What makes y'all think Jikook are a couple at all? I would like to hear from y'all- but come at me with the skinship bit and I'll block you deadass. Lol

So on this person's post, I think I agree with her assessment of JM's persona but I don't agree with the Jikook have been broken up since 2017. And I think I understand where this is coming from... I think some of us do. Yes they had a few fights that year especially leading up to Jimin's birthday- August was it? but we all know JK more than made up for it with the damn GCFs. Lol. kindly visit the timeline, peruse as many content as you can and form your own opinion on it. This is just mine.

Are Jikook Jikooking all the time? Absolutely not. They are human too. They fight, they make up, they break up they get back together, they have introverted, extroverted moments, they go up, they go down- have bad hair days, it's all part of their dynamics I'm afraid. From my point of view of course.

I feel some people notice these things too and when they sense Jikook aren't in a good place they bow out and Jump ship- I don't blame them. They are shippers not supporters. What Jikook need are supporters not shippers- or maybe both, do you.

Could this person be one such people? DNF shippers? Given up on Jikook before the end of their story? I don't know. May be.

Jikook is not a fantasy that you ship. It's a relationship that you support. You can't escape into them. They are an ongoing love story- chapters close, chapters open, you just have to ride it out till the very end.

I think the challenge of their post for me is whether or not Jikook is a performance. Her post leans into the whole Jikook is fanservice bull especially in light of the recent photoshoot video which some are using as evidence Jikook don't 'click' when the cameras are off- the lies they tell on Beyonce's internet!

I think I have speculated on this and shared my thoughts on this whole Jikook is fanservice bit. I will delve deeper into it in my next post on Jimin's idol persona but as I've already said, Jikook is fanservice is equally a misnomer.

Yes Jikook does fanservice sometimes, but they are not fanservice. Fanservice is the cover for their relationship. It's their glass ceiling- nothing to see here folks just two snakes under glass. Keep it pushing. (Sorry. Couldn't help myself. Lol)

But you do raise a valid question, what is Jikook like when the cameras are not filming?

Is the mood of Jikook in that footage the general mood of Jikook behind cameras as Tuktukkers are claiming? They barely interact, JM doesn't pay much attention to Kook, yadda yadda yadda?

And the part that gives me a complex, that JK only interacts with JM when they are the center of attention. Huh???????????

Sigh.

I feel caught between a rock and a hard place on this one.

The theory you pointed out in support of this assertion isn't mine and I think I made it clear I didn't share the same thoughts on it. I said it was valid nevertheless. Chilee, this is hard. Lol

Yes JK is an introvert, Jimin is an extrovert, JM doesn't live for JK, all that is true and some Jikookers have said that too- so when you ask, if this is who they are when the cameras are off does that mean what they do when the cameras turn on is fanservice-

I-👁👄👁

I don't know the thought process that went into that theory so I can't confidently defend it. I'll ask? Lol.

Personally, I'd like to know whether or not they see the tension in that footage as tension in the first place. Chileee I don't know.

I see it as tension. Not a very serious one though. So we'd have to agree to disagree on that one.

But the part I can argue, the part I agree with is Jikook aren't hyper super duper lovey dovey on each other all the time. They aren't cuddly all the time. They have their moments of quiet- Jimin seems like the more affectionate kind who'd rub all over JK in the comfort of their homes but still...

If you ask me though, I think Jikook are tamer on cameras than they are behind scenes. I always talk about the fear and panic in the members' eyes when they see Jikook gravitating towards each other- it's probably because they know the extent of Jikook's shenanigans. They know how worse it can be because they've seen it all.

And when JK panics sometimes when JM gets closer too you just know dude is scared perhaps because of his Mochi chick's devil may care shamelessly in love policies- Jimin wild. Bless him.

I did say also that Memories 2019 is equally eye opening. These were censored bits. BigHit was holding all of that and giving us crumbs- stingy mfs. Bless.

All that said, again I don't think Jikook are hyper lovey on eachother behind the scenes. Another part I diverge from that view is that this is not exactly off camera. It was just behind the scenes of a photoshoot. Something we've seen a countless times.

This is not BTS's first ever behind scenes photoshoot. It's just a different angle that's all.

They were working. They were at work. This wasn't an alone private space for them so they can't base on this to say Jikook don't interact when the cameras are off.

The cameras were rolling. We saw them interact, JM was interacting with everyone the way he always does on camera all the time except he wasn't interacting with JK the way he does all the time, grainy footage or not- I mean let's call a spade a spade and not a big fat spoon. Lol

As to why he was doing that- let's just say there are many schools of thoughts.

My thought as I've said is JM was freezing JK out. I think with anyone that's recognized and is familiar with Jikook fights, that mood is all too familiar as I mentioned earlier.

If JM was being courteous and not mad at his man then he would have kept it 'professional' and done the 'fanservice' bit with Jk as per usual just as this person is saying since the cameras were still rolling.

Jikook is not fanservice. They are real.

I have refrained from providing a detailed analysis of that '5 minutes' footage for reasons I will explain later when I do share my thoughts on that footage- eventually. Some day.

But my hypothesis remains the same that I think Jikook were fighting or had a minor issue. As to why they were fighting, chileee I don't know. The confirmation bias in me feel it had something to do with JM's birthday but honestly it could have been over anything at all- dumplings, microphones- we all saw that slap on stage, a certain Iphone notification perhaps, did JinMin make a secret VLive without Kook again? Lol

There are plethora of reasons, I can only speculate on a few. And I think we've all seen Jimin when he is not 'Jimining' with the others, JK included. Take his mood with Tae at GDA for example- since this is not a VMin post I won't go into it.

But it seems they squashed whatever beef they were having on stage when JM extended his hands to Tae and they shaked it out.

We've seen him and Suga bicker too- which again, I am not gonna to get into out of respect for their shippers but I can point you to the On comeback VLive early this year when Suga touched JM and JM mouthed Hajima to him- which I think had something to do with what was going on with him and JK at the time but that is besides the point. Every shipper for themselves.

I contrast his 'fights' with Suga and V to show you the difference between Jimin being professional and courteous and Jimin being rah rah. He was sat next to suga, talking and laughing with him but snapped the moment Suga held his back.

He did the same in the Dynamite MV Vlive, smiling and laughing with Suga but the moment JK teased him with the Yoonmin comment his countenance fell.

Jimin is not that good of an actor if you ask me. I have said he is very Kumbaya in nature, often makes compromises for the sake of the team but that don't mean he is a pushover or one to trifle with- he scares me when he is mad. Lmho.

The scene in that footage didn't look to me as that he was being nice and courteous to JK- is that y'all's definition of professional courtesy? Damn.

If they were having a lover's squabble then the 'icy' mood of Jikook we saw in that footage is not the general mood of Jikook when the camera's are turned off.

I have to state again that I don't know much of what goes on behind the cameras and most of the things we see sometimes are equally missing context.

That been said we have seen enough of Jikook 'behind cameras' and they are more intimate than we can imagine. A certain cozy selfie at the back of an abandoned truck comes to mind. Whatever they were doing at the back of the track wasn't intended for the cameras judging from JK's reaction.

We've had glimpses of Jikook when they are not the center of attention enough to have a fair idea of what they are when cameras are off and I don't think it is that mood we saw in that footage.

We saw them at Jingle ball bell, towards the end of 2019. We saw them in their own space doing what they do best- making us feel single as fuck. Bless them.

We've seen them at awards, we've seen JK eating Jimin's ear nom nom to calm him down- like I would have just bought him icecream to calm down his nerves or rubbed his back but whatever JK. He is your man; you know him best. Good for him. Good for both of you. Now come back and feed us.

And the bit about JK only laughing with JM when he noticed he was on the Bangtan Bomb cameras in that footage- now that's nasty below the belts phony ass ass! I felt that one straight in my chest, shit. Lol

Dude was in a doghouse it seemed and I noticed them stealing glances at each other and.... sigh.

I just think JK was looking for an opening to warm his way back into JM's good graces- it's really nothing we haven't seen before.... sigh.

This is 2020 that narrative of JK hates Jimin, JK doesn't like JM needs to stop. It's dead. Pack it up. Chileee, y'all tried it with this one.

Jk is nice to JM only when the cameras are on him? Nice try.

JK is so fake and fraudulent he glared RM down till he stepped away from Jimin- again, in the very same photoshoot footage y'all swear to God is proof Jikook is not real.

Find it. RM stood next to JM. Looks up see's something- or someone. Does his tell- the hand to head thingy he does when JK glares at him over Jimin. He backs away inches from JM.

Cut to JK. Dudes a mood. Jin bumps into him, stares at him but JK wouldn't even look at him and then deadass looks away grumpyly- talk of professionalism. You doing great swidy keep going!

You can hide a relationship, fake it on God but you can never hide the intimacy. Taekook just lack that intimacy, I'm sorry. Even in that 'estranged' moment Jikook's intimacy was still there-

Even in whatever mood JK was in- which again, I believe was just due to their lover's squabble- JK still was claiming his man and exercising his right of authority over him. That's how you know they are not broken up. In my opinion. Chileee. I'm gonna get in trouble. Deep sigh.

Y'all think JK was hovering over Jimin because he was preparing to strike him down like a censored censored censored? Yea, he was preparing to strike alright- All the corners of Jimin's heart. Y'all better stop before I find you. Lol

I said I wasn't going to analyze the footage in this post but damn. This man out here serving us all kinds of brooding assorted jeonlous as his man takes a time out or two to wiggle wiggle wiggle on him Malfroy style and y'all are out here peddling nonsense. Strike one.

He was a mood alright. Did y'all see Tae rubbing his chest, arms and legs, ears did y'all see any body else in there doing that for him? Y'all's falcon cannot hear his falconer give it up and sorry, Jikook can't relate.

As I've posited, JM I feel was mad as hell for whatever reason and wasn't in the space to be that person JK needed him to be- in that moment. Doesn't mean they are like that behind scenes all the time.

And before I get attacked again for causing drama, being toxic etc by Jikookers understand that I am just a delusional person shipping these two in a way that makes sense to me. Write me off as delulu, and go please.

Whatever ambiguity surrounds that moment, to me, Jin and RM's reaction to JK clarifies things a bit. Jikook were boiling hot. JK was still keeping an eye on his man. Lol. Bless them. That's my conclusion. I'm running miles with that. Catch me. Lol

Feel free to come up with your own theory in a way that makes sense to you.

I'm not sure how long that fight lasted but from the rain day incident I'm hoping it wasn't that long. Jikook are fine I believe- I hope. Judging from the way JM drew JK out in his VLive with the whole I miss JK comment? Did that not sound familiar to y'all? And that Mickey mouse thingy- JM ain't slick. Bless him.

JM is the perched akekeke whisperer whispering all kinds of things in JK's ear, feeding JK news of what goes on on social media and what not. Dude don told his man they won a BB on his birthday, told his man Jin wasn't happy he chose his bag over his- definitely told his man Army was missing him- what? I'm going with that too sue me. Lol

Did you or did you not see Jk coming out to do a live log afterwards? And JK seemed less grumpy, in very high spirits? Wedding bells- I'm manifesting it for JK. Manifest with me.

Remember when JM did a log and talked nonsense about JK, and JK did a rebuttal log to respond to JM and address some of the things JM had said about him? Remember that? It's a jikook thing and it's back😌

I have said JM uses social media to connect with Army while JK uses it as an outlet to express himself. Through out his Live he kept talking about how he wasn't prepared to do a live and it shows in the way he kept saying it was awkward, he just kept it business and didn't know what else to share... I wonder who put his paws on him, dragged his ass to turn on the camera because Armys had asked of him- a certain quick tempered chick who dragged his man out on social media to do the whole Chuseok greetings 2020 on Twitter perhaps?

And JK is so whipped he'd do just about all the hoops to appease his man- Jikook AU written by Goldy. High five. No but seriously...

Behind the scenes, JK sneaks into JM's bed at night- Taekook does it too? Please! The look on JM's face when RM spilled that tea is enough said.

There's only two people in BTS that panic and don't want us to know they lay one on God in bed and it's not Tae Kook.

JK: Jimin hyung and I will sleep here

JM: how about we let the others choose first

Everyone shares a room:

Footage:🦄🍲🐯🧀🐺🍟🐓🥛🐑🛏

JIKOOK share a room:

Footage: 🚪👀

Behind the cameras Jikook sneak into each others bed- camera caught them live. You saw JM's face, I can't make this shit up. Lol

Behind the scenes, Jikook do laundry at 1am. *insert JM pervy face meme.

Chileee, y'all making me trip with this one. Deep breaths.

Jikook have their moments. This was one of them. Can they be human? Please. Thank you.

At this point, these folks are not even shippers. They is shoppers shopping a man for their bias. Lol. Just admit y'all want Jeon thick thighs strong butt for your bias and go. Just admit you want some tall glass of Tiger charming face husky voice strong chest for your bunny and go. Lmho

Chilee, when we say Tae and Kook had a falling out we don't mean they freeze eachother out behind cameras. Hell, we don't even mean they fake their bond or interactions. C'mon! Tae and JK admitted they are not lovers and y'all is bitter. That's why y'all is making up this nonsense about Jikook. Speak the truth and shame the devil. Peter would be proud.

When we say Tae Kook is not real, We just mean JM spends JK's birthday with him while every one including Tae is out there cruising for Jesus with friends. We just mean Jikook claim eachother even when they beefing. That ship beefed and didn't even know they was beefing and they are real? Damn.

We just mean Jikook make efforts for each other even when they are having bad days- Had it not been for Jimin they'd still be gnashing on these cold streets. Place some respect on his name, y'all's ungrateful. Lol

Tae and JK don't want each other they both want Jimin- there. I said it.

Thanks for attending my Tedtalk. 👁👄👁

Now where was I? Never mind. I'm just gonna go burn some sage. There's too much negativity going on around. Hakuna matata!

There is nothing wrong with Taekook as a ship. Personally, I'm a multishipper I ship all the ships but I support Kookmin. I don't mind their shippers calling them whatever, but my eyes twitch when people who claim they support Jikook act wishy washy with Jikook. Lol. Like are you going to withdraw your support of Kookmin if JK sits on Tae's lap?👀 Yall make me nervous. How can you think Jikook is real but then look at Taekook and go huh??? What are y'all seeing that I can't see?

Like those are two completely different dynamics. It's the skinship isn't it? Talk to me. Jikookers who see something nonplatonic in Taekook honestly give me trust issues. Y'all have me out here looking over my shoulders.

I am delusional but I'm confident in my delusions because to me it is about the love and support for JM and JK as LGBTQ plus couples. Please stop shipping Jikook, stop shopping JK and JM for eachother and start supporting them because they are real.

IN MY OPINION.

Signed,

GOLDY

#jikook #jikook analysis #kookmin #kookmin analysis #jikooktheories #kookmintheories #goldy blogs #goldy theories #goldy analysis #nightswithkookmin #jikook fights

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bozowrites · 4 years ago

Text

Dare to Care

Imagine

↳ There is always going to be a drift in society and no one can fix it.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki × Fem!Reader

TW: None.

Word Count: 1.7k

Part 1 // more to come...

A/n: I have a lot of asks but I got rlly inspired to write this last night. It’ll be multiple parts so if u actually like this u can be added to the taglist, just comment or dm me or whatever. Love you, darlings! 💞

In our society, there are separations whether we like them or not. There is absolutely nothing you can do about it. And that’s what sucks. I want nothing more than to patch up the hole that was put between us and them. To fix the broken world that we’ve come to call home. It isn’t home. Nowhere is home when all is broken around you, and I’ve come to terms with that.

There are the heroes, the civilians and the villains. Then there’s the rich, the middle-class and the poor. Simple words can create a huge drift in society.

Some think they are above others for the simple fact they have a title. A hero. A well-known hero that all love and adore. And then some rich think they are better for the reason is they have money; they have the power to do whatever they want because of that money. Money buys you the things you need, even love, apparently.

I grew up to solely believe this. I was beneath them and they were above all. I worked for what I needed as they got handed their things on silver platters.

My mother worked two jobs on minimum wage every day and made just enough to pass us buy. Some stood pretty for a camera and made thousands—millions even! It’s ridicules, really. Or, maybe, that's just jealousy speaking.

All I want is to be known as someone for working hard and give my single, hard-working mom, a break. To rest and never stress again. To take care of her. To never let her fear of being too little for me. I want to be her hero.

“How many times do I have to say it? I didn’t order the this.” The woman of high-class spoke rudely. “I’m sorry, ma'am, but that’s what the receipt and your waiter told me.” Her lips scowl and her growl is more evident. This restaurant is full of people like her. Spoiled brats. “Well your waiter is wrong!” I sighed, losing grip of my temper slowly.

“Perhaps, one of the men behind you ordered it,” I said slowly, gesturing to the three men in matching tuxedos behind her. “You did leave the table to talk with a friend, I do believe. Just enough time for one of them to order something behind your back.” My tone was impatient and I knew this was no way to act, but people like her hit all the wrong nerves.

“Are you using that tone with me? And disrespecting my brothers?!” The pit of anger in the bottom of my stomach started bubbling. She thought she was so much better because her dad owned some company and held high status. She didn’t, just her father. He made the life he did through his hard-work, she just feeds off his hard-earned prize.

And that’s what disgusts me.

“Dear, they need you in the kitchen, I’ll take care of the rest.” Miss Masmai said with a gentle hand on my shoulder. She always did that. When someone was angry or upset in any way, she put a hand on their shoulder and spoke with a gentle tone. She was this sweet lady, near her fifties, who worked alongside her brother in this restaurant.

“Thank you, miss.” I gave a knowing nod and left to the kitchen. It was obvious my anger was rising and Miss Masami knew that. She always saw right through me. I don’t know how, though I wish I did.

“L/n, get angry again?” My co-corkers always did that. I was known to get angry quickly. I’d accepted that a long time ago, though it doesn’t feel good hearing people say it constantly. “Shut it, Tsukishima.” The tall blonde only smirked and continued away at cooking.

My body felt exhausted. It was hard being an adult. I knew that since I was just a little girl. I didn’t get to play house and make endless friends—no—I spent every night crying in bed, hearing my mom mutter through the thin walls of how to pay the bills, how to feed me, how to get through the next month. It was painful. I always felt the drift between society and me grow. My life became consumed by the thoughts of suffering and never getting by. I let my little mind think that money divided everyone, I still believe it. Most people I meet do too.

“L/n, can I speak to you?” I glanced over to Mister Masami. He has this dark glare. Unlike his sister, he holds no patience and doesn’t believe in second chances. Because of his sister, and only because of her, I’ve lasted as long as I have. He says I have anger issues. I don’t. It’s my lack of social skills mixed with bottled up fear and frustration.

“Mister Masami? How may I help you?” I asked nicely, though he and I both know it was forced. He and I were never on good terms. “You’ve reached your last straw, you’re fired. They are important people who visit nearly every week, and you disrespected them.” I scowled. “Fine. Have a nice day, Mister Masami.” As I take off the black apron and toss it at him, I muttered, “Asshole.” He doesn’t respond, but I know he’s biting his tongue to re-frame from doing so.

As I leave through the backdoor, I can hear some co-workers chuckling and talking among themselves happily. I didn’t know if it was over my leave or for something completely different. It didn’t matter, really.

It’s nearly midnight when I finish my shift at the local café by my apartment. I work three jobs (well two now), never really having time to myself. That’s the life of a poor adult, I guess. When I reached the age to be able to work, I did. Mom didn’t like it, of course she didn’t, but it wasn’t up to her. I wanted to help. She needed my help.

There’s a sudden cold chill in the air. I’ve walked this path a million times before and I’ve never had this fear to walk this way. The sudden uncomfortable atmosphere around me is frightening. I glanced around, only seeing the dark streets. There were only three lampposts here and each was dime, giving only small portions of light. Even the street lamps in this poor area sucked.

“Fuck you heroes!” A voice shouted. I felt my whole-body shake. I've seen the news of villain attacks, but I’ve never been in the same area or around long enough to see the action.

“And fuck you villains!” The supposed hero shouted back. I leant against the brick wall, trying to keep myself hidden. I could see flashes and hear the blasts close by. It was terrifying. The closer the sounds came, the more my body shook. I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire neighbourhood woke up, actually, I'd be surprised if the entire neighbourhood didn’t wake up.

The sudden flashes are crossing my eyes. The small blasts of explosions and the loud voices are ringing in my ears louder. I can feel the heat created by each and individual explosion. I don’t know if it’s the villain or the hero’s quirk, but I didn’t plan on sticking around to find out.

I let my feet run to my apartment as fast as one can, but it wasn’t enough. A cold hand grabbed my arm. I knew it wouldn’t be the hero’s, why would it be? There’s this sudden cold object put to my neck and my vision is set to a blonde staring at the villain and myself with glaring eyes.

“Let them go, villain.” The tone he sets is cold. I can tell he doesn’t care about me. I mean nothing to a high-status hero. All he wants is to keep his legacy as a hero clean. He saved another helpless civilian, all will say. Doesn’t make him good. There could be so many other things the press and public don’t know, but all they care to see is the heroism he displays. Makes me sick.

“Why would I? I think her blood would look real good in my hands.” Her voice is chilling to the ear and I can feel the breaths she takes. Her fingers are digging into my waist and a knife floats midair in front of my throat. I hate every part of this. Her nails are long, making blood seep through the fabric of my clothes. I can feel the warmness against my skin. It’s not a lot, but enough to hurt.

I don’t say anything through all the banter they shout at one another. I only stand there and stare at the hero. He doesn’t spare me a glance or show worry. It really says something about himself. He doesn’t care about no one but himself. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself, but I’ve come to read others through their small actions and words.

I was so in my head; I hardly felt the gash against my cheek as the blonde hero took the villain down. My mind processed slowly as I saw him pick her off the ground, her mumbles inaudible.

“You good?” There’s no sympathy in his voice. There’s no care or worry. It was nothing but hero intake. He has to, he was an idol to lots. And what kind of idol doesn’t ask the victim if they’re all right?

I can only nod wordlessly. Both his and my stare are blank. He still has the villain in his grab, but there’s this shift in the atmosphere. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t take the time to question it.

“You’re bleeding.” He said, voice rough and toneless. I touch the burning cheek. I didn’t feel the pain at the start, but the more I thought of it, the more it hurt. How did I get cut? When? Why? “Oh,” I see the blood on my fingers. My side begins to hurt too. I remember the nails and blood. I don’t think he knows and that doesn’t bother me.

I shrugged and said, “Uh, thanks. Bye.” I turned, having nothing left to say. I know he’s staring at me. I can feel the burn of his eyes on my head. He’s probably questioning me silently.

Why didn’t I fawn over him? Why didn’t I praise him? Why didn’t I stay to speak?

Most heroes get so into it, they forget the reason they became a hero. To save people, they say at the start. But, in the end, they want the praise and only the praise. When they don’t get what they desire, things don’t always go well for those around them.

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hazel-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Summary:

will-o’-the-wisp (noun):

1. a phosphorescent light seen hovering or floating at night on marshy ground.

2. a person or thing that is difficult or impossible to reach or catch.

Word Count: 6,600

Warnings: mild violence, (lots of) emotional distress

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

I've got a ticket to the moon

I'll be leaving here any day soon

Yeah, I've got a ticket to the moon

But I'd rather see the sunrise, in your eyes

• Ticket to the Moon - Electric Light Orchestra •

Being back on the Finalizer was strange. You were put on the ship for a single purpose: to gather intel, hide information in posters, and distribute them on various planets for the Resistance to find. But now, after everything that you learned about your brother, and especially after what happened on Lothal, you decided you were done working for the Resistance.

You recognized that the Order had done terrible things — was doing terrible things. But you would find another way to help, one that didn’t involve the Resistance, the same organization that murdered Benji. There were good people on the Finalizer. People who had been there for you more than your own parents had. Ones who would even take a blaster bolt for you… and who you would take a blaster bolt for.

As you walked the halls of the Finalizer, one week since the mission to Lothal, you found yourself more on edge than you ever had been. The Commander was off-ship and you hadn’t seen him since he healed your arm, an act that you still hadn’t fully processed. Finn was doing better — the doctors and med-droids managed to get him stabilized. He was still in the medbay, but mainly out of precaution. He was no longer hooked up to machines and everyone was impressed by how fast he had managed to heal.

Regardless of his resilience, you felt horribly guilty for putting him in such a dangerous situation to begin with, something you had attempted to tell him many times. All you wanted was for him to yell at you, lash out, cry, something. But he brushed off every single one of your apologies as if you had merely stepped on his toe.

Every morning you had been checking up on him before heading to the artist workspace. However, today when you entered his room, you found the bed empty. A wave of confusion, followed by worry, coursed through you. No, no, no. The doctors said he could still take a turn for the worse, but you thought he was doing better. He can’t be… you thought. No way, he’s too stubborn to die. Right? Panicking, you crossed the room, finding the button on the wall that would call the medical attendants.

Right as you neared the button, a startled cry came from behind you: “Wait! Don’t-”

You spun on your heel and was shocked to see none other than Finn hopping over to you on one leg. He was struggling to get a piece of armor around his foot and as he hobbled in your direction, tangled pieces of his arm and leg plates dragged behind him.

“What do you think you’re do-” you started before Finn cut you off with a single finger to your lips. He gave you a stern look before checking over both his shoulders to see if anyone had heard.

You glared at him and tried speaking again, this time in a harsh whisper. “What on Hoth do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be in bed!”

Finn continued to hastily put on pieces of his armor. “I’m getting outta here. Can’t stand it. These people-”

“You mean the doctors?” you interrupted, incredulously.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, the doctors ,” he whispered dramatically. “They’re drivin’ me crazy.” He continued talking, the words coming out in short breaths as he wrestled with his chestplate. “They come in here… poke me with those sharp torture devices… ask me stupid questions… and then tell me I can’t leave!”

This made you snort out a laugh. “Sharp torture devices? You’d think someone who had just been shot wouldn’t mind a few needles.”

“You know what?” He paused, his nose held high in the air as his lips formed a stubborn line. He held up a finger, searching for a comeback that never came. “I’m choosing to ignore that comment. I have places to be.”

Now you were the one who was irritated. “Places to be? I checked and made sure you didn’t have duty for another week!”

He sighed, securing the final piece of armor. “I’m not going on duty. I’m going to get some food — the stuff they’ve been giving me here sucks.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course his priority was the food. “Finn, you’re still healing. I can bring you something to eat!”

“Not happening. These doctors and droids creep me out and I want to leave.”

“But-”

“You would like to accompany me? How nice of you to offer!”

You sighed. This was yet another battle you wouldn’t win.

“Fine,” you conceded. “I’ll walk you to the cafeteria, but then I have to meet with the crew.”

“Fantastic, after you,” he said, pulling his helmet over his head and gesturing towards the open door.

You started for the exit with a huff, but suddenly put out an arm to stop Finn before he could leave the room. He looked down at you, cocking his head slightly in confusion.

“Just know that I will be checking up on you every single day for the next week,” you told him, shooting him your most intimidating stare. “And I am much scarier than those doctors and droids you’ve been complaining about.”

He nodded, his shoulders sinking slightly, before once again gesturing to the open doorway. You shook your head briefly and began walking towards the cafeteria. The two of you travelled in silence for a while but at the midpoint of your trek across the Finalizer, when the corridors became a bit more crowded, you felt Finn put a guiding hand on the small of your back. Once you rounded a corner, it was just you and him again.

A couple more minutes passed and you felt him fall slightly behind you. A familiar tingle at the back of your neck made itself known as a wash of uncertainty enveloped you. You turned to look at Finn, whose helmet was darting around at the walls nervously. Looking down, you noticed his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Something is wrong.

You once again put out a hand to stop him from walking any further. “Alright, that’s it. Tell me what’s up.”

He looked at you, startled, confused, and slightly guilty.

“Uh… Nothing’s up. W-why do you ask?”

You put a hand on your hip and raised one suspicious eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar. You’re all fidgety — what’s going on?”

He turned to face you, debating whether or not to deny you any further. This time, you won.

“Ugh, why are you like this?” he said, exasperated. You gave him a mocking shrug, waiting for him to continue.

“Fine. I was just thinking…” He looked everywhere but at you. “In case you happened to be wondering, it’s...” he paused before letting out a dramatic sigh. “It’s Koda’s birthday tomorrow.” Another huff of breath came from under his helmet. “There. You happy now?”

“His birthday?” you repeated, even though you had heard him clearly.

“Yeah. He doesn’t really tell anyone…” Finn paused, shifting on his feet, his tone becoming more serious. “I’m not sure if you remember what happened on the day I found him…”

You tried to remember the conversation you had with Koda. You recalled his somber expression as he painstakingly relayed to you his childhood on Dantooine.

“Yeah,” you said. “He told me that parents skipped his own birthday for some Resistance diplomat’s birthday party, right?”

Finn nodded. “Pretty much. It went beyond that, but that was the breaking point for him.” He sighed deeply, obviously affected by the thought of Koda being neglected, before continuing. “Then he took off, found me and a few other troopers, and came back here with us.”

You nodded solemnly before speaking again. “So why are you telling me this now? The last time I saw you guys in a room together you repelled like magnets.”

You had a pretty good idea of the answer to your question, but you wanted to hear it from Finn himself. Despite the rift that had grown between the two men, you sensed that they still cared about each other deeply. After all, that was what their whole argument was based on: not hate or malice, but friendship, loyalty, and love.

“Well, Koda came to visit me in the medbay a few days ago. He didn’t say much but… I don’t know. I guess it just got me thinking about what you said — about cutting him some slack for his decision to stay with the Order when he could’ve left.”

“And?” you tried to hold back your smile, happy to see that something you said had stuck with him. Finn deserved to get his best friend back.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Aaaand I’m not gonna say any more about it because you are getting way too much enjoyment out of this.”

You put your own arms up defensively. “Okay, okay, I’ll be civil. Thank you for telling me. I’ll think of something we can put together for him.”

Finn nodded, but neither of you went to move forward.

“You’re invited of course,” you suggested, knowing that he would probably decline.

You were right and watched as he shook his head. “I dunno, I’m not sure he’d want me there. Baby steps, ya know?”

You were going to protest, but you decided to trust him on this one. He knew Koda the best and you wanted him to do this at his own pace. “I understand,” you smiled warmly. “Baby steps it is.”

————————————

It was Koda’s birthday. You had told Rilea about the situation and after a moment of shock, an emotion you didn’t see from her often, she immediately went into party planning mode. You were a little surprised that Koda hadn’t told Rilea about his birthday before; she had known him the longest and could name everything from his favorite foods to his pet peeves. In a way though, it made sense. Koda wasn’t the kind of person who wanted to ‘burden’ others with his own problems.

You, Rilea, Akilah, and even Soren, gathered in the artist workspace waiting for Koda to arrive. Rilea had told him there was an emergency meeting and that he needed to meet them urgently. She was now running around the room frantically, making sure everything was in its proper place. Akilah, being one of the tallest members of the group, was busy retaping decorations to the ceiling. Soren stood at the back of the room, fidgeting with a stack of napkins. You worked on scattering shredded pieces of colored paper, what Rilea referred to as ‘budget confetti’, on the tables.

Looking around, you realized how different the group was without Koda present. He always managed to fill any room he entered with life. He and Rilea were constantly yelling at each other, whether that be out of excitement over some mutual interest, or irritation at each other’s silly disagreements. Akilah and Koda could sometimes be found in a quiet corner of the room, having some sort of intellectual debate, which Akilah almost always won. Even though Soren acted like he despised Koda, the latter always knew how to bring him into a conversation when he quietly hovered at the back of the room.

Koda had the amazing ability to say all the right things just when you needed it. He made you feel like you could be honest around him, largely due to the way he wore his own heart on his sleeve. He was fiercely loyal to his friends and his beliefs and despite having only known him for a little while, you trusted him to have your back through anything.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupted your train of thought and Rilea flew to the front of the room, her wild golden hair streaming behind her. She whispered harshly for everyone to be quiet. A few seconds later, Koda walked through the door.

“What’s goin-”

Rilea gave the signal.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

He looked around the room in shock. Colorful garlands criss-crossed the ceiling, dangling above a table lined with all his favorite foods. Hand-drawn signs were hung on the walls, the flickering light from the cake’s candles bouncing off of them. Bright pieces of paper decorated the tables like stars in the sky. It was the kind of birthday party he always wished he could’ve had as a kid.

It was perfect.

“You guys…” he started, rendered speechless by the scene before him.

You watched as he looked at each of you, adorned with paper hats that Rilea made from leftover posters. He chuckled when he saw Soren, who was still sulking towards the back, wearing one, though he knew it was probably against his will.

He finally spoke, choking on his words as he did so. “You all did this for me?”

“Of course.” you said. “That’s what family does.”

It was a simple statement, but one that held deep meaning in Koda’s life. His eyes welled with tears and he shook his head, looking down towards his feet, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Noticing his reaction, Rilea stepped beside him, grabbing his hand before pulling him in for a hug. You watched them with a silent smile, knowing that you were witnessing the start of something special.

Rilea pulled away, tears now filling her eyes too, before chuckling to herself. “Look what you made me do you big oaf,” she said, playfully hitting Koda in the arm. They each had one arm wrapped around the other’s waist. You glanced over at Akilah, who was already looking back at you, a knowing smirk on both of your faces.

Rilea’s shout broke the silence. “What are you two looking at? Come on, don’t you want to join in this emotional mess?”

You looked at Akilah and shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

You joined the hug and watched as Akilah hesitated before heading to where Soren was brooding, and grabbed his hand. He looked like a scared loth-cat as she dragged him over to where you, Rilea, and Koda were huddled. She forcefully wrapped an arm around him, bringing him into the group hug. The five of you stayed like that for what seemed like eons. Despite your differences, it was true, you had become a family. A strange dysfunctional space family, but a family nonetheless. When it came down to it, you would all go to the ends of the galaxy for each other.

Koda was the first to move, taking a step back from the group. “Wait a second, how did you know today was my birthday?”

You smirked knowingly, mimicking his movement. “A stubborn stormtrooper you and I both know may have told me yesterday.”

His eyes opened wide and he shifted on his feet. You could tell he was trying to look casual, but the crack in his voice said otherwise. “Finn? He… he did?”

“He did,” you replied.

“Oh,” he said, stunned. “I guess... I should thank him at some point.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I think he’d like that.”

“So are we going to eat at any time in the near future?” Soren asked, obviously uncomfortable with the excess of emotions surrounding him. Akilah shot him a sharp glare, prompting him to look down at his feet in stubborn apology.

Koda stepped forward, eyeing the table for himself. “Are those Dantooine flapjacks?” he asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Yeah, I heard you talk about them once when we first met,” Rilea said. “I asked around the ship looking for a recipe and it turns out one of my pops’ coworkers is from Dantooine, so she helped me out a bit.”

“Stars, I haven’t had these in years.” He turned towards Rilea, gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you.”

She waved him off. “Awe, don’t go all soft on me now you ol’ Ewok.”

He smiled, tugging on a piece of her hair playfully. “Whatever Spacer, let’s eat.”

You were surprised to hear Koda’s nickname for Rilea. ‘Spacer’ was a term used for people who had spent their whole lives in space. You had heard Rilea mention her dad, or ‘pops’ as she called him, just moments before, but realized you really didn’t know too much about her upbringing or her family. You made a mental note to ask her about it later.

Right now, all you wanted to do was sit back, eat cake, and enjoy this small, beautiful moment with your favorite people. Moments like these didn’t come around too often on the Finalizer, but when they did, it was magical.

—————————————

Later that day, word had gotten around that the Commander was back from his mission. Excitement and worry coursed through your body. You needed to talk to him. You didn’t know why exactly — it was just a feeling. And it was this feeling that seemed to be bringing you closer and closer to the training room.

When you arrived, the door was open a crack, and upon peeking through you recognised the telltale cloak of the Commander. He was turned away from you, making it hard to read his mood.

“Commander?” you said quietly, tapping the door lightly.

No response. The nerves you had felt moments ago were much more prominent now. You were about to knock on the door again when you heard a low: “Come in.”

He didn’t turn to you as you entered. Instead, he continued to face the large window that looked out at the expanse of space that surrounded the Finalizer. Sensing that something was wrong, you closed the door behind you. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” His answer came quick, too quick.

“No you’re not.” You approached him cautiously. “I can feel it.”

A low sound came from his direction and you watched as his shoulders shakily rose and fell suddenly. “You are getting good at that.”

You knew he was referencing your ability to read others’ emotions, something you had always attributed to your intuitive personality until you arrived on the Finalizer. You thought about how you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing the abilities you now possessed, how you could’ve never come to understand the power that flowed through your body.

You smiled, grateful that you now knew the truth about yourself. “Only thanks to your training.”

“No, not just that.” He finally turned to look at you, but what you saw made you frown. He seemed... tired. His hair was a bit messier than usual and his eyes didn’t have that glint of stubborn determination that they normally did. He continued speaking: “You’ve had this power within you since you were born. Now you are simply learning how to harness it.”

“Yeah, well…” you let the rest of your sentence drift off. He was deflecting. “You still haven’t told me what’s bothering you.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

He is so stubborn, you thought. “I don’t doubt that, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth talking about.”

He paused for a moment, considering your statement, before responding. “My superior and I are having… a disagreement.”

You shuddered at the mention of his superior, the one you still knew nothing about besides the fact that he was dangerous. And that the most powerful man you knew was afraid of him.

“About what?” you asked, nervously.

“You.”

Your skin went cold. He knew. He knew you were Force sensitive. He knew the Commander was training you. He knew about Lothal. Oh, kriff. What if he knew that you had been working for… No, he would’ve said something by now. He probably would’ve killed you by now. The thought made you shiver. The Commander must have sensed your unease and took a few steps in your direction, his face briefly twitching in worry.

“He doesn’t know about your abilities. I’ve managed to keep that from him. But he knows that you’re…” You held your breath, preparing for the worst: your biggest secret to finally be revealed. “Special. He knows that you are important to m-” he paused, correcting himself, but not before you caught onto what he was about to say. “He knows that you are important.”

You signed in relief. He still didn’t know who you were. The initial panic dissolving, you finally managed to process what he had said, a blush creeping onto your face as you did. Stars, where did that come from?

“O-oh,” you managed to stutter out.

He seemed unaffected by your surprise. “If he finds out about your abilities… I’m not sure I can-” He pauses and looks down at his hands, seemingly frustrated at himself. “He’s powerful. Too powerful.”

You were growing more and more curious about his superior. It was unlike the Commander to admit his weakness so you knew that he must be extremely powerful. But the Commander was surrounded by those with power, what made this person so different? And why did he want to keep you from him so bad?

You decided to prod further. “Can I ask you something?”

He nodded silently.

“Why don’t you give me up to him? He would reward you greatly, I’m sure. Why not just give him what he wants?”

You watched as his eyebrows drew together in what seemed like a joint expression of confusion and frustration. “I’ve seen what he can do. If he finds out you’re force-sensitive, he’ll try to train you himself. But his training… methods… are different from mine.”

“Different?”

“They’re cruel,” he responded bluntly.

“But if I’m going to be powerful, powerful like you…”

He interrupted you sternly. “I don’t want you to be powerful like me. Never.” He softened his voice after noticing the surprised look on your face. “It’s just… you can be powerful, but in your own way. I don’t want you to…”

The end of his sentence was left suspended in the space between you.

“What?” you asked, not willing to let his thought slide.

“Change,” he sighed. “I don’t want you to change.”

This was different, you thought. When you first met the Commander, he seemed adamant on making you do things his way, and now, he wanted you to do the opposite.

“And you think if your superior trains me, I’ll change?” you asked.

“Yes.” The Commander moves to sit down, but does so slowly. Too slowly. A slight groan escapes his mouth.

“Are you okay?” you ask again, taking a few steps towards him.

“I told you,” he grunted, dark hair concealing his eyes. “I’m fine.”

A dark thought crossed your mind, one involving the enigmatic figure that Kylo worked for.

“Did… did he do something to you?”

He gripped the chair tightly in response. The action did not pass by you unnoticed. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You keep saying that Commander but-”

“Kylo. Call me Kylo.”

“Kylo,” you said the name confidently for the first time. It felt much better than saying Commander, but something still didn’t sit right about the way it rolled off your tongue. You drew your attention back to Kylo, who was breathing heavier than you would’ve liked, obviously straining to conceal whatever injury he had sustained from you. Thinking for a second, an idea began to form in your mind. “Let me help.”

“What?” he questioned skeptically.

“I could try using the Force.”

He answered immediately, sitting up straight and looking at you, fierceness returning to his eyes. “No.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. You had spent the last few weeks training with him for moments like these, and now he was declining you the opportunity to put what you learned into practice.

You tried mentioning this to him. “Please, I need to test my abilities.”

He simply shook his head in response. “No, it’s dangerous. You’ve already done enough for me.”

You took a step closer to him. Even though he was sitting down, he was still only slightly shorter than you. You reached out slowly, taking one of his hands in yours. He stilled for a moment, unsure of what to do, before closing his fingers around yours. He had taken his gloves off before you entered the room, and you found yourself savoring the touch of his bare hand against yours. It was warm, but rough. Hardened by years of fighting. Each one of his fingers was twice the size of yours and you could feel the Force subtly flow through the places where your palms and knuckles touched.

“You healed me once,” you said quietly. “Now let me return the favor.”

You felt his hands suddenly tighten around yours, as if he was afraid to let go. His chin quivered briefly before he looked up at you, his hazel eyes glistening with something unfamiliar. Were those… tears?

“Why are you- After everything I’ve done, you still… How?”

His words came in short, frantic bursts.

“Kylo…” you paused, trying to find the right words of your own. You needed to do something, say something, that showed him he could accept your help; that he was worthy of your help. “We all do things we aren’t proud of, especially when we are under the orders of others.” A throb of guilt ran through your body. “But there will always be surprising glimpses of clarity and peace that help to keep us centered. Special moments where our hearts defeat our heads. And it’s those moments that keep us going and it’s those moments that should define us. I learned this from you, Kylo. When you trained me to use my powers, when you carried me through the woods on Dantooine, when you spared my father’s life simply because I asked, when you told me about the convor on Lothal, and when you healed my arm simply so I could draw again…” You shook your head, smiling at the recollection of memories.

“My dad used to tell me this story, you know… It was about these lights that would appear to travellers at night — he called them will-o’-the-wisp. He said you can only see them in the marshes of Lothal near the ancient Jedi temples and were known for leading travellers astray. There are different tellings of what the lights actually are: some say they’re the spirits of the dead, set on vengeance, others say they lead you to hidden treasure. But what most people can agree on is that these lights are symbols of false hope.”

You paused, choosing your next words wisely. You wanted to be vulnerable, so Kylo would know it was okay for him to be vulnerable too.

“Sometimes I feel like that, like I’m a traveller, blindly following the will-o’-the-wisp.” You chuckled, raising a hand out towards the massive window. “After all, we are just space dust at the end of the day. Years from now, I won’t be here. You won’t be here. This galaxy won’t be here. No one will remember us, or all that we’ve fought for. We are so small compared to the rest of the universe.” You shook your head, looking down at your hands incredulously. “But despite knowing that, for some strange and ridiculous reason, we still care.” You now smiled to yourself, as if processing the meaning behind your words for the first time. “Life is silly. It’s trivial. Ephemeral. But somehow, we manage to make it big and beautiful.” For the first time since you began talking, you looked up at Kylo. “There’s something amazing about that, don’t you think?”

He didn’t answer — he simply gazed into your eyes with his own earthy irises. You took that as a sign to continue. “It’s something I know I want to be a part of, and I think that you do too. You’ve shown me that it’s okay to feel sad, angry, or lost, just like it’s okay to feel happy and content.” Your smile grew even wider, your eyes shining bright despite the darkness of the room. “Admittedly, I still need to work a bit on the former, and from what I’ve seen, I think you need to work on the latter.” Kylo let out a huff of air, making you smirk. “But I know it’s there. I’ve seen you laugh when you think no one’s listening. I saw how you smiled on Lothal. I’ve even heard your attempts at cracking jokes. It’s all there. Please, Kylo, let me help. You deserve help.”

He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes on the exhale. You knew that at this moment he was fighting an internal battle; a battle between the part of him that desperately needed help, and the other more dominant part of him that was too stubborn to admit it.

“Okay.”

You nodded and sat on your knees in front of him, your right hand still holding his, attempting to hide your slight shock at his concession. You had never healed anyone before. To be fair, you had never really tried. But you thought that because his injury didn’t seem to be life-or-death, it was at least worth a shot.

You weren’t sure where exactly he was hurting, so you relied on your instincts to guide you. A prickle that ran through your left hand prompted you to take his other hand in yours. Closing your eyes, you began to probe his body with your mind, trying to find any areas of the force that felt weak.

After a few minutes passed with no luck, you felt something start to happen. It began as a small pinprick of feeling at the back of your head. Before long, the prick transformed into a tingle that ran throughout your entire body. You felt pulses of electricity move through your neck, shoulders, forearms, all the way down to your hands; the ones that still held tightly to Kylo’s. Then, it was gone. However, almost as soon as it left, it was replaced by a similar tingle, but one you knew didn’t belong to you. It was Kylo.

You hadn’t even thought about the fact that doing this could break down your own barriers enough that he would be let in. You felt the foreign tingle work its way up your body, guiding its tendrils to your neck before eventually reaching towards the edges of your mind.

You tried to build up your walls again, letting out a small gasp, but it was too late. Whatever Kylo was doing, he wasn’t doing it on purpose. This was out of his control and yours. You felt a large, trembling hand cradle the back of your neck, stabilizing you as you slipped backwards, weak from your exertion. You panicked as you realized that all you could do was try to guide him towards the harmless memories — the ones of you and Finn walking the hallways of the Finalizer, or you waving at a scowling Mrs. Stoney at the reception desk, or when you ate Koda’s birthday cake earlier that day…

But your mind had other ideas.

Your memories flitted before you like pages in an out-of-control flipbook, inching closer and closer to the one that you couldn’t let Kylo see. You squeezed your hands tighter around his as you tried to stop the flashes as they moved towards your most terrible secret. The visions became filled by images and scenes of your brother, your dad, your mom ...

The whole world seemed to stand still as you suddenly found yourself back in your home on Lothal. You looked around, knowing exactly what you were about to witness; what Kylo was about to witness.

“You’re an artist; you always have been. An artist who can save the Resistance with her work.” Your mother paused, looking at you with a glint in her eye that you knew meant she was serious. “Kriff, you could save the whole galaxy with just a few strokes of a pen.”

You felt yourself conceding, even though you knew you had lost the argument the moment it had started. “You really think this could make any kind of difference?”

She took both of your hands in hers. “I know it could.”

Wordlessly, you shot her a final look that warned: whatever happens, it’s on you. She seemed to understand the meaning behind your stare and gave a nearly imperceptible nod.

“Then I’ll do it.”

A pained gasp sounded in the room, and you couldn’t tell if it had come from you or Kylo.

The bond between the two of you snapped as Kylo stood abruptly, stumbling over the chair behind him. He looked like he had been physically hurt, breathing heavily and holding onto the wall with one hand for balance.

Your eyes were wide and your heart pounded in your chest as you realized the gravity of what had just taken place.

“Oh no, no, no — Kylo please,” you stood, moving towards his heaving form. “It’s not… It’s not like that anymore.”

He slowly looked up, breathing harshly through his nose. His mouth was pulled taut and his chin quivered menacingly. His whole body radiated pure, oppressive anger. But meeting his gaze, you noticed his eyes revealed a different emotion: they were devastated.

He spoke slowly and deliberately. “It’s not like what?”

You stuttered, trying to explain the strange turn of events that made you help the Resistance, and the even stranger events that made you stop helping them. “I’m not a part of that — ever since I found out about my brother — what my parents, what the Resistance, did to him... “

Kylo interrupted you, speaking through teeth clenched so tightly, you thought they would shatter.

“You’ve been lying to me this whole time? Everything you said, about helping me... That was all so you could find out the Order’s next plans?”

You looked at your feet guiltily. You thought about lying to him, but knew it was no use. You owed it to him to be honest. “I- I was,” you revealed. “But not anymore. Our connection, the Force, it changed everything. You saw what happened on Lothal. Working for my mother, the Resistance; that isn’t a life I wanted.”

He was barely listening to you now, instead choosing to pace back and forth across the floor of the room. “Everything I told you, showed you… How could I be so blind?”

You reached out to him, attempting to still his frustrated strides. “No, please, Kylo. I’m telling the tru-”

He suddenly did something you had never seen him do before, not even when you first arrived on the Finalizer. He powered on his lightsaber and aimed it directly at you.

You tried to remain calm while slowly stepping back against the wall, keeping your eyes trained on his, rather than the fiery beam of light at your neck.

“Please Kylo, I was wrong before. I don’t agree with a lot of the things that happen on this ship, you know that. But you were the first person I’d ever met who was honest with me. My parents lied to me my whole life, and because of those lies, I lied to you. That was wrong — I know that now. You’ve never been scared of who I am, both the crazy artist and the Force-wielder. Just like how I can see you for who you truly are. Not like the others on this ship… They’re scared of you.”

Hearing that, he held the lightsaber closer to your throat, its heat burning against your neck inches away from your skin.

“And what about you, are you scared of me?”

The lightsaber was now grazing your skin, its red-hot sparks making you flinch in pain.

“I wasn’t,” you said quietly, barely a whisper. “Not until now.”

An image suddenly flashed across your mind, a memory: An older man in brown robes stood over a young boy, eyes wild, preparing to swing a green lightsaber through his body. The image was blurry, but you saw the boy’s eyes open as he turned to face the green glow of the lightsaber, his body frozen in a state of complete fear. You recognized those eyes instantly. As the lightsaber swung towards the boy, the vision disappeared.

You inhaled sharply as Kylo violently ripped his saber away from your body, affected by the vision you both witnessed. Instead, he opted for slicing through the nearest communication stations. You ducked as sparks flew from his saber. Seemingly dissatisfied by the destruction, he punched his own fist into a nearby wall.

“I trusted you,” he spoke in a deep, growling voice that would’ve been terrifying if not for the crack on the last word.

“Kylo, please,” you begged. “Look at me. Look into my mind.” You paused. “I- I’m asking you to.”

His posture shifted slightly, but his harsh voice remained the same. “What?”

“I have nothing to hide now. Look: see that I’ve changed, see that I don’t serve them anymore.”

With no hesitation, he rushed in front of you, putting a hand in front of your head. You shrunk back slightly, startled by his sudden approach, but maintained eye contact to show your willingness to let him in. Surprisingly, his probing wasn’t harsh; It was sporadic instead. Crackling tendrils whipped through memories, ones you hadn’t shown anyone before.

You watched as glimpses of your past danced behind your eyes for the second time that day. You found yourself painting with your father on the dirt floor of your house on Lothal. You watched as you waved goodbye to your brother from the kitchen window, not knowing it would be the last time you ever saw him. You saw yourself meet Kylo for the first time, confused by the tingling at the back of your neck, the one you initially mistook for a rogue bug. You remembered him threatening you, holding you against the wall as he attempted to read your mind. Your visions then brought you to Dantooine, to the moment when Kylo saved you from attackers and carried you through the woods. The scenery transformed back to the Finalizer and you watched your friendships develop, the echoes of their laughs surrounding the air around you. You observed the moment you discovered the true story behind your brother’s death, right in the same room you and Kylo were in now. That was the moment everything had changed. The rest of the images flew by in a blur: Lothal, your father, a blaster bolt. A bird briefly appeared, dipping into the depths of your mind before dissolving as the sounds of a lively birthday party filled your head. Feelings of warmth, love, and hope for the future invaded your senses, only to be stopped by a black wall.

You gasped, Kylo’s hold on your mind finally releasing. He seemed stunned for a moment, meeting your tear-filled eyes with his hazel ones in a final moment of vulnerability, before straightening his posture and putting back on his gloves. When his face turned back to yours, it was as if he was looking right through you.

“I want you gone by the night.”

Your tears fell freely now, plummeting in silent drops to the floor. You hated seeing him like this. Despite you being able to see each feature of his face, it felt like he was still wearing his mask. “Kylo-”

He took a step closer, trapping you against the wall with his arms on either side of you.

“Or I turn you in to Snoke myself.”

So that’s what his name was.

By the time the thought fully processed, Kylo was gone.

Gazing at your reflection in the star-speckled window, you realized that you were wrong before:

You weren’t following the will-o’-the-wisp...

You were the will-o’-the-wisp.

———————————————

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4 notes · View notes

madfantasy · 5 years ago

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hii! sorry if you've answered this before, but how did you find your own art style? it's nothing like i've seen before, very dream-like (: i feel like with so many artists out there it can be hard to find one's own style but yours is truly unique. if it's not too much to ask, do you still have any of your first drawings? thank you 💕💕

(Oh & I'm sorry if I have answered it before, I didn't find anything on my blog so woop here comes my blaber)

Hello dear!

Thank you so much, you flatter me and my bit-som of art-som, heh. Specially that you have called it dream like— cuz 1/4 of my creations does come from my dreams. I even had a dream about Severus a couple of days ago- was explaining to him the concept of gestures in smartphones, I told him it's like pulling down a scroll, to get the notifications, lol.

Before I start side-tracking too much, yes- I can't say I do know how it happens, I guess I wasn't on the base of looking for an art style for myself, or ever considered myself an artist— or a real one? Idk. The idea of having an 'art style' doesn't register with me so I'm possibly always confused what to make of it.

I mean, I didn't go into art for art's sake. I don't enjoy beauty just for beauty's sake. It has to have a meaning, purpose, hidden dilemma you need to solve just by looking deeper; is it speaking to me, or am I speaking for it?

My only concern since the beginning of time of Mani apparating this earth and what got them into drawing anyway is: telling the story as best as possible.

I was drawing before I learned speaking. It was my instinctive language. I had something to say? Illustrated it on a piece of paper to show.

Everything I see in my surroundings or mostly in mind, I had a story to tell about. So I didn't even consider that I was making art.

I remember when I developed enough cells to be aware- I started trying to copy or capture the basics of family members, making stories about them, also games or shows I played; I drew Crash bandicoot, driving into a cliff because he was hated by his family, Tiny wearing an abaya. Pink panther cuz how tall he was weirded me out in a fascinating way, Tarzan and his special muscles, a story about an abused squid lady that eventually turn into a mermaid, a guy turning into a hero coz of some near death experience.. mmm stories about my favourite stuffed rabbit CeCe Bobo— probably the only innocent adventures I drew as a child— I wanted so badly to make them into a video game, having their parents fall into a pit of flames, heh.

And because I had daily TV episodes in my brain of whatever to occupy me from unsanitary real life; I associated with many people I love to see materlized; my characters. So I had to try & draw them exactly how they look/feel, and that's what my art slowly developed based on; is this guy the way I seen and felt him look like? If not, try other ways.

At first, I drew them with literal basic shapes, like a character would have a square face, and another heart, and if I couldn't draw circle, I used my pencil sharpener that was shaped as a circle. A method still I use to differentiate my characters (without the pencil sharpener lol)

Later, since my characters have generally my favourite things, or things I enjoy, things I appreciate— basically things from me directly or from my choices, conscious they were or not—had them chopped and scattered between the lot of them. And to learn how to do some favourite factors of them is what drives my art style I suppose. I knew I didn't want it realistic, but I also didn't want it unreal. What makes art real? That's probably the always questions I face.

Ofc, I was face with so many problems to deteriorate my passion for drawing. Like, not being allowed to draw in the first place. I had wait till everyone is gone or occupied, had to always look over my shoulder and must constantly hide every inkling of any art making, and act like the project I'm making is for school, and draw in breakfast breaks at school. I used to draw under my blanket and store my art between my books or under my pillow (never related to anything so hard like when Harry was studying magic and Dursley keeps checking on him, honestly heh). Either all that or I get the whip.

Or being told what's the point of having a style like that while everybody obviously enjoys popular styles like anime or cartoon? Why don't I draw like the popular to get noticed? I don't know how to draw anime or cartoon even if I tried. It will just show as my art style, no? Exactly like speaking two different languages with the same letters.

Or like the idea of strictly sticking to gendering things while the idea never occurred to me. The base line of how men has to be ugly and women pretty. My motto is showing beauty in everything, even in scary or messed up things hehe. But I had to consent to making my guys 'ugly' as possible to continue drawing, and if u notice a line on their throats, that's one other thing I had to do, wasn’t allowed to draw girls either. And I wasn't happy with any of that at all.

But I was able to win my right to draw anytime I like in recent years, and able to draw how I like how I use digital means. So it got better heh.

And no it's not too much, if anything, it was took me on a dusty beautiful trip of nostalgia, I thank you for it. Sadly I don't have my first drawings, and I do treasure them but they all been tossed, torn and burned before me over the years, heh.

The oldest thing I got is this, a comic made, was 11 years old I think:

Medo, a guy so beautiful that he was forced to work as a femal model, concept that felt the best to me, heh. Even tho I was in no contact with the outsider world.

He is my first solid character and I made endless comics of him.

He's develop into this -dated 2014- , he's fairy sentinel.

And I found few of my old or first time drawing them pics of the main characters in my stories, I'd love to share:

Juicy and X-bi— second ones I made. But these drawings are maybe 2 or 3 years after I made them

I know I said that lots, but x-bi was a mask wearing imaginary friend I translated into X-bi. He has almost always cold hands so I used to put my skin on cold metallic surface and imagine it his hands trying to ease the pain.

And since I had no audience home, my stuff showed at school as i drew alone, always with various replies of 'its good, but'

Juicy got me in trouble with a teacher, by a careless student that was browsing my drawings In front of them, and I was classified as mentally deranged and need help for not drawing the usual princes and white knight.

Fernando and Carlos are also old characters that expressed romance in everything they do, so when I had a drawing of them Carlos tending to a fevered Ferry, and it was snatched from me, everyone considering it intimacy and I had to punch my way through them to get it back. Being called perverted and sick in the process, even tho all they talk to me about is marriage and the process of making babies. One of them literally told me on random occasion that their heart was like a ten story building for rent, there's always someone new in and out.

Carlos is Fernando's soul guardian💛

I created General Pumbkin in school! expressing fashion in strictness with my fav hooked nose!

Axel was my joy in everything, and the most common character I got beat up for, for being girly. I don't draw him too much anymore but seeing him again made me auto happy , hes all about giving loff, darling hehe

Candy, a less brain developed babyy

Brain and Pain, my sibs fav characters from my bag, heh

And Sabine was said to me that he should be a girl to be that scared in a scary story, his story is like dark and twisted fairytales vibe that I love dearly. I'm trying to continue writing his story.

Despite whatever, I love doing art, I have to. It what gives me soul juice heh.

And thank you for sticking on my prolonged answer. I hope I didn't bore too much, I'm flooded with memories happy and bad, and they are all okay. It made me feel passionate again, so thank you for the opportunity 🙏

1.5.2020

#sadttitude #my art #oc #drawing journey #personal #abuse #tw

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herunspokenemotions · 3 years ago

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I fuckin hate her. I fuckin hate the shit out of her but I love her at the same time. She makes me so angry. How could you replace me like that. Talking bout how your were lost and depressed before you met her and how she treats u right when u know I gave everything to be with you. Are u fuckin kidding me. Every bit of my time went to her. Every chance I got I called her and went to go see her. I spoiled her to the point where I went broke. She has seen my cry and break down on her got damn floor knowing full well that I really didn't want to lose her. I don't fucking get it. Why did u leave when u knew I'd give up anything to be with u. And now u wanna pretend like u didn't love me. Pretend like I never existed in your life. But who fucking sweater you still wearing. Who bought u those clothes. Why did u never give back the ring. You say it's because she was the one who was there for u but who payed a 80 dollar Uber at 3 in the morning to go and see if u were alright because u started remembering all them traumatizing memories. Who would stay up with u all night to make sure u was okay. I put u first before everything including myself. I put all the shit I was going through to the side to make sure my girl was okay. So don't give me the excuse of she was there cause I was to. U never even apologized. You just brushed it off when I asked why u left without saying anything. All u had to say was "I never said what I did wasn't wrong". Does she know u drunk called me. Does she know u kissed two other people that night. Does she know u miss having sex with me. Tell me does she fucking know. I bet she don't. I bet she don't know u told me u missed me. How u wanted me to be back in your life as a friend. But we all know I wasn't gonna be just a friend. Why. I'm so mad at you. And I think I can't ever forgive u. I hope someone leave u like u left me. Without a damn word. Maybe you'll see how bad it feels. I showed up to your house thinking something happened to you. Did you know all your family members told me to leave you. They told me I was too good for you. That you were just explosive and was always gonna do shit like that to hurt me but I fucking stayed. But u don't get that. Your own dad told me to tell u to fuck off. I can't believe this shit. You put more effort into a relationship u literally don't give a fuck about but none when u were with me. Not once did u ever post me. Show me off. Nah. But I know why cause u hated that everyone was seeing exactly what u were seeing. You would get jealous over people simply glancing at me. Would purposely flash ur ring at people just to let everyone know I was taken. Makes no sense bro. I knew u hated being vulnerable but did u really have to fuck me up in the process. I know I fucked up one time and that's my fault and I made up for that cause I fucking hated to see u cry but damn. Just why. I saw a whole future with u ash. Why did u let it all go. I've apologized to u so many times I don't even know what for cause u would never tell me why u were mad. How can u tell me u love me but still walk out the door. What did I do. This shit is ass. Fuck you.

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mimzy-writing-online · 5 years ago

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Hey!! I was wondering if you had any advice for a character concept I've been playing with? :) long story short, my character wasn't born blind, but throughout the story she progressively becomes blind from cataracts- cortical vision impairment to be exact. Is this inherently a bad concept? I really don't want to misrepresent this, and the last thing I want is to make people mad about it. Is there a way I should go about this? Thanks!!

Later message from same Anon: Hey! Just following up on my ask of writing a blind character in the Victorian era- sorry if I missed it

Note: in a message between the first and third, anon added that this story takes place in the Victorian era.

You certainly did not miss it, I’ve just been lazy (struggling) with blog maintenance and have been procrastinating answering several asks. Historical fiction is out of my area of expertise, so this required more research than general advice.

Also, my first and second attempts at an answer were eaten away by computer/tumblr difficulties, so I had to rewrite a lot.

I think it is a fantastic idea to have your character go blind slowly over time. It is also ambitious, so it is something you need to be careful with, but it’s totally doable.

So the era throws me a little because I’ve never had much practice with historical fiction and history wasn’t a fave subject of mine. Most of my research into blind history has been after World War I, because the sudden surge of blinded veterans changed the course of history for the blind community. This and technology overall led to those huge changes.

So I did a little reading up on the recent evolutions of blindness and the world’s general understanding of it in the 1800s.

Conclusion: society was shit with disability, but I already knew that. There were some remarkable inventions and innovations for blindness in this century, which I will get to later.

So this post will be: 1. The more personal aspects of going blind over time (instead of all at once) such as acceptance vs denial, life changes, and internalized ableism. 2. Speculating on society’s perception of the blind. 3. Innovations for the blind in that era and what comes after.

So, part one. The Emotional…

As someone who has slowly lost vision over the course of years and has no idea how far this will progress, I can tell you that it’s an agonizing process of realization, denial, understanding, acceptance, adaption.

Realizing you’re going blind comes in small pieces that eventually add up to become a puzzle. And for this reason, adaption follows a similar pattern.

You identify a problem, feel conflicted about this change, wonder if you should ignore or investigate, and regardless of which path you take, you find a new way to adapt.

I’m going to use an example of my process through this, so you can see the actual thought patterns and how they circle between “this isn’t a problem” – “wait this is a problem” – “no I’m fine!” – “this is a problem.” – “I’m fine, what am I complaining for” – “I made this change and now my life is 100x easier??? Who knew? Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

Example from my life: Light is bright. That hurts but I’m fine. I get sunglasses. The pain with bright light is getting worse. Okay, that’s concerning, maybe I should talk to a doctor. Doctor says I’m fine but now I’m thinking I’m not okay. Why are my eyes doing this? Why do I hurt? Oh, and now bright lights at night are becoming a problem, and I get more headaches associated with light. I could wear sunglasses at night and indoors, but society has given me a negative and judgemental opinion of that, so I don’t want to do it. Best friend pushes me to give up on that negative view for the sake of my health. Finally I listen and life feels much better, but I’m still a little uncomfortable with this change. I feel very blind with my sunglasses, but that’s the only way to not feel pain. And now I feel blind when I’m not wearing any light protection, but I’m in pain this way. What’s wrong with me?

And this is just my internal argument with sunglasses and light sensitivity, from age 17-22. On the other side is my struggle with “do I need a cane” from age 21-22, which goes like this-

It’s August and I’m walking through a semi-familiar but gigantic and ridiculously crowded park with a group of friends. It’s bright out and I need to wear my sunglasses. And now I’m realizing there is a dilemma. I can’t see. My sunglasses are too dark to see. But going without is painful and just as bad vision wise. BUT I CAN’T SEE! I’m scared, I’m going to run into someone or something, I’ll get lost or separated from my friends and not be able to find them. I can’t see curbs or pillars or people and the only thing keeping me safe is holding onto K, who knows my current vision situation when no one else does

And I think to myself- this day would be so much easier if I had a cane.

But I haven’t needed one before, and I don’t ‘normally’ need one. Just every time I go outside on a sunny day. I don’t need it all the time, so I can’t have one, I’m fine.

But these things keep happening, where I’m outside and terrified but I think I’m still “sighted” and my only problem is some light sensitivity and not-super-great sunglasses. My glasses let me see 20/20 (or they did, which they did not a year later) so I definitely don’t need a cane at all.

Young past self, you were so wrong. You needed that.

Eventually I had a breaking point when one year later I’m seeing 20/50 with best correction (so, by legal definitions I’m not even visually impaired yet) but I’m terrified of leaving my house and can’t travel alone and am a literal danger to myself because I can’t see and can’t tell people I can’t see because of social anxiety and internalized ableism-

And the breaking point was that I finally got seriously hurt because I was in a situation where I couldn’t see and wasn’t brave enough to ask my current company to be a sighted guide. That’s the day I ordered a cane, and when it came two weeks ago, I finally remembered what it’s like to not be so terrified for my life every time I left my home.

Your character will over time find problems with her daily life that she didn’t have before, and she’ll deal with each one individually, but with all of them will usually be a repeating thought pattern that is unique to her. It depends on her internalized ableism and society’s ableism (and that era is full of it) and accommodations available to them at the time (also not great).

She’ll solve each problem at a different point that may coincide with other problems and yet still seem like entirely separate problems to them. Like how I wouldn’t relate my need for sunglasses and my need for a cane at the same time because they felt like separate battles to me with their own timelines and similar but still different thought processes.

You will have to decide on a case by case basis what accommodations or accessibility she can have at that time.

Society’s view on blindness:

It’s shit.

It’s not great now, in the world of information available at your fingertips. It’s desperately worse in history.

(TW: abuse of disabled people mentioned -thoroughly- in the next two paragraphs)

Everyone with a disability was treated like shit. Sensory disabilities (Deaf or Blind or Deafblind people) and mental illness were treated the worst. There is historical religious persecution against them, saying that they were made ill by the devil or a vengeful God. Which lead to abuse. They were seen as helpless or unproductive, defective, and so were treated as burdens upon their family and society. Because of this, abuse from parents and family members was horribly common for disabled people. Disabled people were often left in asylums by their family members because they were seen as a burden, where there was usually still more abuse to come.

There are still children with disabilities who are abused by their parents, families, care givers, or any facility they’ve been placed in. The cases of abuse are less, but by no means over.

Ableism in general is just rampant and it’s only cured through the distribution of information. Most people (today) have never met a blind person in real life, had a conversation with one. Through the internet they can find information, but in pre-internet and media eras I can’t imagine how much ignorance runs about.

Most people think blindness is something that only happens with old age, birth defects, or tragic accidents. Or that blindness is obvious in a person. Not the case, as we both know, but certainly a cause for many misunderstandings.

This section is where the development of technology and understanding of blind people begins, but there’s still some ugly history involving abuse of the disabled to come.

Technology and History

(TW: abuse towards historical disabled people in next paragraph)

In 1785 the Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles, the world’s very first school for the blind was established in Paris, France. It was opened internationally to children who society had previously deemed unteachable. Valentin Haüy witnessed acts of bullying and cruelty done to blind hospice patients and it inspired him to attempt teaching a blind beggar. He taught the boy to read through raised letters (because Braille was not yet invented). The school he founded could better be described as a trade school, because its primary purpose was to teach work skills like letter press and weaving (going back to Valentin’s childhood, whose family worked as weavers)

Due to criminal activity (he was labeled as a terrorist related to the French Revolution and was a member of the Panthéon Club) he was forced to leave the school in 1802. He later moved to Russia (1806) and began a new school upon the request of Alexander I of Russia.

(TW: child abuse mention in next paragraph)

After his leave, the school had a change in leadership and location, and subsequently quality. Sébastien Guillié became the new director and was later forced to leave because of the inhumane conditions of the facility and welfare of the children. Those children lived in a French Revolution prison that was refurbished as an asylum/school for their education. It was cold and dirty. They were kept in the dark, only allowed to bathe once a month, and poorly fed. This went on until 1821 when he was forced to leave.

Louis Braille (the inventor of Braille) was a student of the school until Guillié’s reign of terror.

The school was later moved to Boulevard des Invalides, and it remains there today. Information with this school is hard for me to access. It doesn’t have the prettiest history, so I can only speculate how much was left out of the books to save the school, and what information I could access is in French.

However, back to Braille.

Braille was invented by Frenchman Louis Braille in 1824. Before his invention, he was taught to read through raised lettering, and he concluded that raised lettering was impractical because-

1. It is difficult to read, the letters had to be printed in huge font to be fully felt out and printed on thick paper.

2. Thick paper means higher quality, more expensive. Larger font means more paper is needed for a single text.

3. This made it inaccessible due to expense and the sheer volume of a text.

4. If today’s Braille books are hard to access and giant compared to traditional books, I can’t imagine how inaccessible those raised letter books really were

Five years later The Perkins School for the Blind was founded in America, making education accessible to blind and deafblind children, and this time it focused on reading and mathematics, more education than trade school.

Though it would not have been possible for your character to attend the school herself, it could be possible that she became acquainted with a teacher or former student of either school, who might have passed on some O&M skills to her or some not so pleasant tales.

Side note: the Perkins Brailler (a typewriter machine for Braille) was developed by a wood working teacher at the Perkins School for the Blind – in 1951, so not applicable to your character’s time period, but I didn’t know this, so I must info-dump

This is before the eugenics movement of 20th century America, when the belief that people with “poor breeding” should be prevented from breeding. The eugenics movement targeted not only the disabled, but lower class and people of color.

The white cane as an accessibility tool was not “discovered” until the 1930’s by Philip Strong, who painted his walking stick white to make himself more visible. This piece of history is a little flimsy in my opinion. Techniques are discovered and lost and rediscovered all the time. You can’t prove he was the first person to “wave a stick” in front of him to find obstacles.

But he is credited for making the white cane something that could be a standard identifier to tell people (moving obstacles) “hey, I’m blind, don’t hit me with your loud vehicle” and made a movement of other people getting white canes to identify themselves.

I very much thank him for it, seeing as I’m so sighted-passing sometimes. If white canes weren’t standard everyone-must-know-what-this-means sort of thing, I think people would just watch me “wave a stick” around and think I’d lost my mind.

(TW: suicide of disabled character mention in next paragraph)

So when you see something like in Downton Abby (season 2) when Thomas and Sybil are trying to teach a blinded soldier how to use a cane to navigate… it could be possible, something that actually occurred to some people then. Although, now that I think about it, that character killed himself by the end of the episode and that still upsets me.

Downton Abby got the period-typical ableism right, I will give them that. Both the internalized ableism as well as how strangers treat you, they got that right. What they did to their disabled characters still bothers me (i.e. death and cure subplots)

(TW has been lifted, you made it past.)

But with World War 1, there was a huge number of blinded veterans entering the world and that did make way for big changes in the world of blindness-

Within a few decades guide dogs were being trained, white canes were becoming a thing, Schools for the Blind were thinking, “hey, maybe we should teach adults these skills too!” and life continued on until it eventually reached out modern world. Which, not applicable to your era, but I think it’s important to know what wasn’t available or common knowledge for your character.

If anyone has other information about historical fiction, the Victorian era, and historical ableism and disability, please feel free to reblog with your input and I’ll reblog it.

As always, this post can be found on my blog through the tags: reference, blind character, historical fiction

#writeblr #writing advice #writing community #historical fiction #blind character #writing advice written by me #victorian era #Anonymous

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