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ar1mas · 3 months ago

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girl, you aint intruding. you are fueling, and im so into it.

because yes. a billion times yes.

eds a hypocrite. my son so dumb Eq 21. remember the "for some men, love is a source of strength. but for you and i it will always be our most crippling weakness"? clearly we dont give a shit about that! god hes so dumb. and so is oswald, because ed saying that was the thing that pulled him out his mother dying (pure soul, may she rest in peace) depression, and then a season later look what he did. yeah fall in love with the guy who said love aint a good idea, how smart (its almost like love has nothing to do with logic, not that ed would know). and ed? well, im cutting him some slack here.

because at least with him, his entire understanding of love was based off of a set path people take. american dream and all that, wont rant about it again after i did in another reblog.

his understanding of it - its all very mechanical. he doesnt get feelings. he cant. so when he confuses limerence and obsession with love, im like "yeah ok, makes sense for you."

but this set path also means that if by some defect hed fall in love with another man for example, he cant compute. if, for example, he falls in love with someone who did unspeakable things, not just to others but to him, he cant compute.

and the funny thing is that oswald is the only one who could change that.

oswald is the one who guided him. oswald is the one who normalised being a killer. oswald is the one who saw ed, who saw his potential. oswald is the one who unlocked that potential through his assumed death. oswald is the one who set him free again, after he took eds newfound identity away. its always oswald.

ed can learn through oswald. he can even learn feelings. it just so happens that oswald is very possessive about who he loves.

idk if thats why ed shot penn, or if he got jealous all by himself, i just know being surrounded by the guy who loved you and killed your girlfriend for it is prolly not gonna help with that.

the point is, when it comes to feelings. ed is a baby. he doesnt understand feelings, but by being around oswald, by loving oswald, he learns to come to a consensus anyway, one thats not muddled by the set path of love and life instilled in him since he was born.

the entire cause of the continuous bad blood between them - yes, oswald shouldnt have killed blonde kristen, but i reiterate: "the real reason."

the reason why they kept being enemies for so long. ed wasnt ready to let go of this lie. even after 3x15, after which - is blonde kristen ever even mentioned afterwards? i dont think so. ed literally doesnt care about her. he let go kristen, and after he 'killed' oswald he lets go of her too. because it was never about them. it was just about holding onto this lie, and he wouldnt even have dated blonde kristen if it werent for that lie (again, kristen is a bit different because with her it was the american dream + limerence when with the blonde version it was just the former). oswald was right. at some point, he wouldve killed her, and if it wouldve only been to move on from the lie, to finally be himself. because edward nygma, the true edward, the one oswald sees, would not look twice at someone like her. he only would because of the lie. so really, those years of being enemies was just ed denying himself when oswald painfully didnt, like they werent playing on the same playing field yet. they do now, and oh god is it beautiful.

onto oswald. he almost said the quiet part out loud. for me, understanding that line goes sth like this:

"we really are meant for each other." - response to eds line. makes no sense. ed talked about friendship and how penn "had to be stopped". meaning its a response to what ed said in the subtext.

"i accept you for the person that you are" - an egotistical bastard. a spoiled child. wants to have what he wants by any means, without regard to other peoples feelings about it.

"just as you accept me for the cold logician that i am" - someone who doesnt care about other peoples feelings. someone who only cares about his own ego, his own wants, his own compulsive rules.

"thats why this friendship is great" - you and i together works well because we are alike. because we understand each other. because weve painfully seen the worst of each other, and still we are here, in this room, together. thats why i want you in my life.

"perhaps, edward, we really are meant for each other" - you are a selfish child. i am a selfish child. i love you, jealously, and you love me the same. we want whats best for each other, as long as that best means that we are together. we deserve each other.

or in other words: oswald would only say what he said if he knew ed was just as possessive over oswald when it comes to the other men in his life, as oswald is over ed.

and oswalds laugh pre line is exactly what you said. like, wtf happened to "love is about sacrifice?" u so stoopid eddie. moreover, its a "wow you want me so bad its making you act irrationally. youre so dumb, and i love you anyway, bc i get it, im the same."

if you want more of the "you want me so bad its making you act STUPID" thing, i recommend this fanfiction. canon divergence in 5x11 where oswald leaves to save gotham and ed kidnaps him and puts him in the submarine so they can escape. its really good. heres a teasing line from it i love:

"no clinical deductions, no intrusive thoughts, just oswald."

beware, theres a lot of introspection before the funny part kicks in. shouldnt be a problem though, its so good.

- a rant

no because ive watched this stupid show 5 years ago, and i only noticed this now?? how???

ok. some context first. this is about fox' gotham, a prequel series to batman. or at least a potential one with slight changes. one of those changes is the relationship between oswald cobblepot and edward nygma (spelled with a 'y' for mayhap legal reasons? idfk its silly). whats their relationship like in the show? well...

theyre gay af. idk what to tell you.

okay so oswalds gay as fuck. edwards... ambiguous. totally ambiguous. he had a girlfriend or 2 and a half (kristen kringle, the-woman-who-shall-not-be-named (aka kristen but... blonde? this show is weird), and lee. not comfy counting lee, but technically shes one, hence the 'and a half')! very straight, much hetero (on another side note how tf is oswald the gay one, like i know he wears make-up and shit but eddies all about theatrics and showmanship and flair and hOW IS OSWALD THE GAY ONE NEXT TO HIM?? ok anyway).

so oswald was (is. be real.) canonically in love with ed, ed was.........., and 'penguin in love' is a piece of music composed by david russo for season three in which the whole "im in love with my best friend" thing took place.

that song has been used all over season three, as far as i can tell not once in season four, and once in season five.

.....or so i thought.

because yesterday, while in another obsession phase (of which i get one a few times a year. ive only ever watched the show once, in 2019, when it ended. still dream about nygmobblepot though. i dont dream about media, like ever, but with them, its different), i saw 5x8 to satiate my never satisfied craving of nygmob scenes, obviously skipping the main story bc i dont care about that straight shit. i got to the scene where oswald kills mr. scarface and frees arthur penn from said mr. scarface, after which ed shoots him in the head because thats what one does in such a situation, thought "aw how cute", again, as one does, and then realised.

what was that background music just now? rewinds.... oh. oh haha, its 'penguin in love'. how fun.

WHAT.

WHY IS THAT IN THERE. WHY DID THEY INCLUDE IT.

correction. it wouldve made sense to have it here. they used it in 5x5 for the speech about not backstabbing each other (wedding vows for murderers fr fr), so using it again after their relationship has solidified wouldve made sense.

note how im saying 'would have'.

because it would have made sense, if they used it when ed said "i accept you for the person that you are, just as you accept me for the cold logician that i am. thats why this friendship is great." they didnt, though. they used another equally heartfelt song for that. dunno what its called, it sounds a bit like 'penguin in love' but isnt, not sure if that one has a specific meaning like 'penguin in love' does.

so when was the song used? at 36:08 – 36:17. barely ten seconds, right before eds lines, right before ed kills penn.

...right when penn was sitting in oswalds lap because theyd been fighting for the gun and os fell on the ground.

now. the most obvious answer to "why in the fucking hell" would be because ooh this dudes on his lap so sexy, but no. no. 'penguin in love' is about one specific thing: love. the pure kind. the kind that makes you giddy with butterflies in your stomach, kicking your legs, while youre on your bed, writing in your diary about this guy you have a crush on. and oswald and penn do have history, oswald was more or less fond of penn, but not in love (i mean where would he have found the room in his heart if it was already filled with EDWARD EDWARD EDWARD martin my sweet boy EDWARD EDWARD EDWA-). im also definitely not thinking that penn was so happy about being free from mr. scarfaces influence and not having to kill oswald (oh yeah, the horror. who would wanna kill oswald, the guy with the big ego, who never does anything for anyone without some kind of endgoal- well, unless your name is edward of course) that he instantly fell in love with the guy. i can deal with the homicidal kind of crazy, but that? no. thats where i draw the line.

the next most obvious answer is that it was about oswalds love for ed. more believable, since its what the song was made for, but more believable doesnt mean believable. or likely. because even if i 100% believe that hes been loving this dude for so long its not something he has to think about anymore for it to be true, im pretty sure that itd be very random to suddenly focus on that when oswald was just about to die. so no, even if its what the song is intrinsically about.

so next most obvious answer is- wait. thats it. huh? theres no obvious answer anymore? everything else is brainrot? oh. oh well. its been five years, im sure its too late to worry about it now. what the hell.

im sure you know where im going with this. or maybe not. honestly idk what the fuck im talking about-

youre smart. you know what im about to say. if it wasnt about what oswald was feeling because he was otherwise preoccupied, and it wasnt about penn because that makes no fucking sense, then who was this song used for? who else was in the room?

...oh.

YOU.

YOU FUCKING IMBECILE. YOU STUPID DENSE PIECE OF-

inhale, exhale. no. don’ get mad, you know he cant help it. you know hes totally helpless when it comes to emotions. just breathe. ok.

i hate him. i hate him so much.

if the song wasnt for oswalds sake, it was for his. because i know hes in love with oswald, but does ed? does the producers??

'penguin in love' is about oswalds love. its about his love for edward. its about their love, their relationship. its about edward just as much as it is about oswald.

a-fucking-PPARANTLY, I DIDNT KNOW THAT!! I JUST THOUGHT OH YEAH OZZY BE THE GAY ONE HAHA FUNNY, I DIDNT KNOW IT COULD BE ABOUT ED DIRECTLY!!!

(why am i like this? what is my life? i will never be normal.)

ed has always been the obsessive one. first kristen (and the woman who shall not be named is just an extention of that ofc), then oswald, then lee. and as weve seen with kristen, when hes obsessed with someone, he can become possessive. absolutely not on the scale oswald is on, but still. theres a wee bit of jelly there. oh you have a boyfriend? better get rid of him! oh you wanna run away from me bc i murdered your boyfriend? better keep you right in place and- oh shit did i kill you? ono D:

this is a huge oversimplification, but you get the point. its there. or at least it has to be there because why else do you get so angy that someone is sitting in the lap of your just friend because they were fighting and they ended up in that position totally accidentally? like thats not normal behaviour, for anyone, unless you have possessive tendencies.

i mean its not like penn was a threat in any way. "he wasnt the threat, the dummy was the-" like i understand ed told penn about the submarine which was supposed to be a secret, but come on, like they couldnt make sure penn wouldnt say anything. so why would ed shoot him? its not even like penn was a random dude where that type of thing would be very inconsequential, oswald knew him. hed worked for oswald, and like i said, oswald was more or less fond of the guy. penns just a poor little meow meow, y u kil him eddie? 🥺

unless this fondness was part of the problem. unless ed saw how happy oswald was to see him, got annoyed but let it slide, then used penn attacking os and knowing about the sub as an excuse to kill him. and why would oswald being happy to see penn be a problem to ed? it wouldnt be. it wouldnt be, unless ed thinks oswald is his.

which makes sense. i know im calling him names and calling him out, but like. oswald told him he loved him like 5 times 2 years prior, i dont blame him for believing that maybe theres something to it (especially since that was the point of 3x14, oswald really being in love with him and surprising himself with it). but i thought ed didnt feel the same way? because hes very hetero? because he had a full-on girlfriend before, twice, technically? because-

"the truth is oswald, you would sacrifice anyone to save your own neck. even me."

"like i said! you will always fail, because youll never change."

hm. i know this is a bit off topic, but i just got a war-flashback and... why did ed sound so hurt when he said that? "youll never change." "you would sacrifice anyone. even me." why does he care? they were friends, best friends, yes, but why does he sound like a heartbroken wife who just found out her husband cheated on her again? why does-

"honestly you deserve this. you are opportunistic, your loyalty is.. shaking, at best, and you will hurt anyone, anyone, to get what you want."

"and yes, i was not a good friend. to you or anyone. its why im alone. but i saw you for what you are and i valued that!"

...why would edward nygma, the man who literally said "i dont love you" to oswald, be jealous of even the idea that maybe penn could have something going on with oswald? and why would he act on it if hes usually so careful to not reveal his feelings (unless its about kristen. the original obsession, the american dream, the just be normal, show them you are normal, and people will accept you)? he wouldnt.

unless oswald just told him that he knows he messed up. that hes sorry for it.

and unless that made him think that maybe theres a chance.

"love is about sacrifice. its about putting someone elses needs and happiness before your own."

"you gave up your revenge for me?"

a chance... for what?

"life begins anew."

"shall we get to work?"

and if theres a chance, hes not about to risk losing it. not this time.

so maybe 'penguin in love' is about more than just oswalds feelings. maybe they were trying to tell us that, yes, we see you traumatised gay kid, were sorry this is all we can give you, but here you go, eds in love with him too, but don’t tell the channel. subtlely. just for barely ten seconds. and maybe it can be enough.

nope, it wont be. im gonna sit here crying about the injustice of not having them kiss on screen in the finale as was originally intended for the rest of my life. seriously though, what is this, nbc's hannibal, where im noticing something new details every single time i watch the show, causing me to spiral? no, i was already spiralling. the spiralling was the reason i rewatched the scene. the scene simply made it worse.

so yeah, im done freaking out about a mediocre show that was cancelled 5 years ago and is honestly not worth anyones time (like, its ok. it might even be better than i remember since its been so long. i doubt it. but its ok).

tl;dr: ive only now realised that a specific gay song plays in a specific episode of a show i watched 5 years ago and the only reason theyd include it in the episode is if the dude that was not canonically in love with the other dude was in fact gay, they just werent allowed to make it canon, so they added the gay song to subtlely tell us about it.

have a wonderful day, hellsite. dont do what i did and go crazy about fictional gay people. i know you will though, that’s why im here too. i hate gay people. these two make me homophobic so bad, i wanna gauge my eyes out and skin myself-

#ok NOW im done ranting #wow i like literally needed to take a break because thinking so hard about them for so long almost burnt me out #that says more about my normal mental state than anything else #then again #you gotta me a little cou cou to be obsessing over a non canon ship from a 10 year old show (IT STARTED AIRING 10 YEARS AGO!!! WHAT!!!)#nygmobblepot #fox gotham #includes another shameless plug for a random fanfiction i love. enjoy internet

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hollyhomburg · 5 years ago

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the Viking!au about the day namjoon & tae fell in love with reader was so cute and showed how tae had got to see the reader when she saved him and just an overall softer side of her but it got me thinking how did the others know that they loved her? I’m especially interested in how hobi knew just bc their relationship was so tense in the beginning

i think that their love story is a little bit enemies to lovers at the beginning like obviously, Hoseok trusts her about as far as he can throw her. he becomes sort of like her guard, “i just want to make sure you don’t do anything stupid” “scared of me little alpha boy?” “oh i assure you, nothing about me is little” and meanwhile she’s like venting to jimin later, “I don’t understand how you live with the lot of them- especially Hoseok- he’s an alpha pig if ever I’ve seen one” and jimin trying to assure her- “he’s not all that bad i promise, he has a soft side i promise” and you grumble, thinking the only alpha in his pack who’s sweet at all is jungkook.

it’s not until a hunting trip- or a scouting trip- when Jungkook and Hoseok come back banged up Jungkook bleeding from a wide rent in his side that you really see the panicked loving side, despite Hoseok’s injuries, he stays up by Jungkook’s bedside all through the night- even though yoongi does too. you coming by the next day to give yoongi a chance to sleep. you trying to Tugg Hoseoks sleeping form into a bed, though he wakes with a growl. you catch him trying to tug Jungkook’s hand into his own even a bed away, needing the other alphas hands in his to fall asleep.

you’ve never known alphas to be so tender with each other- but the way Hoseok looks at Jungkook- it’s something different, something special and soft that you feel like you shouldn’t be intruding on. maybe jimin is right, maybe Hoseok does have a soft side that you just haven’t seen.

one thing that makes you indisposable to the pack is the amount you care, it dosent matter who walks through the door of the infirmary you help. even that little bitch of an alpha Hoseok gets his cuts sown up by you. you have more than a few people to take care of, who need you here, yoongi and the dozen or so other healers in the pack take care of more than 500 pack members.

you bring many things to the pack, including your knowledge. in the first few months, yoongi learns a lot from you, several tinctures and salves that make some of the regularly occurring injuries here non-existent when they’d been threatening, a herb that brings down fever, another that cures the infection, as well as a burn cream made from the leaf of this flower that cuts healing time in half and reduces scarring.

it’s an accident really when a clumsy beta spills a pot of oil in the kitchens and it hits a young omega girl, spareing her face but not her shoulder and chest. you and yoongi do what you can, but you’re out of the cream that could save her from scarring and likely- the life of a pariah. yoongi and you do the best you can cooling down the burns with snow and setting over the usual salve that helps you heal, “do you have any more of this?” yoongi holds the empty container out for you and you shake your head, “shit then- what are we going to do?”

yoongi is one of your biggest supporters to make the trip back to your home, even though it’s deep in the forbidden woods, there are other things there that you need, to gather. other antidotes to poisons and indisposable herbs that you could use here. You’re the only one who knows how to identify them and use them, but the thing is- namjoon is loathed to give you his blessing before you go- it’s dangerous in the north woods, where animals far larger than normal sizes grow and the very ground trembles with an older, wild sort of magic. many people that have gone into it haven’t survived.

“I lived there for years namjoon don’t talk to me like I don’t know the dangers, and I can help her” namjoon can’t help but look at you, so soft and small, but firey and determined, and feel like it’s too dangerous for even you. the heads of families also listening in, grumbling in agreement, the parents of the child looking at you like you’re their only hope. Hoseok steps forward from where you’re gathered, “I’ll be her guide, and make sure she comes home safe.” you want to scrunch up your nose at him, to hiss almost- because everyone knows you don’t like Hoseok at all.

needless to say, you see a different side of him during your trip, every time you slip his hand is there on your back, “stop doing that- I’m not some delicate omega i can handle myself, if I fall let gravity do its job and punish me I don’t need to touch you” him holding up his hands, looking stung, “yeah alright, that’s the last time I try to do anything nice for you.”

in the forest, winter has fallen early, and you’d be loathed to admit you need any sort of warmth but the fire isn’t cutting it, and you know it will only be worse the further north you get, you’ve lived through these winters you know how dangerous they can be. you’re only half surprised when Hoseok scoots over spooning you from behind halfway through the night, “what are you doing?”

“Trying not to freeze to death” and you have to admit, waking up in the morning with his warmth pressed up against your back isn’t the worst thing, even if you do pretend it is. but it’s almost like Hoseok can tell that you didn’t really help it, your snuggly omega scent the same kind of sweet as Seokjin lets out when he’s nesting.

“admit it- you’re comfortable around me- you like me more than you want me to think you do” you’re just about to reply when your footing falls out from underneath you. almost sending you plummeting down a steep ravine. Hoseok catches you at the last minute, hand on your forearm, he pulls you up and to safety. “what was it you said yesterday? let gravity punish you?” “yeah fuck everything I’ve ever said to you” Hoseok can’t help but laugh at that, chest heaving as he lays back against the rocks.

It only takes you a few days to get to where your old camp was, it’s desolate and unkempt in the months its been since you’ve been there, most of your things where trash anyway compared to the quality of things available at namjoon’s compound. you don’t stop to take anything with you, but Hoseok does give it an appreciative glance. “you used to live here? all year round?” “yeah the winters sucked.” i like my cabin back home better you catch yourself thinking, but it’s true, your cabin back at the compound is home to you. you shake off what that means and hed onwards, gesturing for Hoseok to follow you, “come on its not far.”

The oasis and hot springs are warm and hazy, the red lily growing in great swathes around it, you drop your pack, it’s only halfway through the day, “we’ll camp here for the night,” Hoseok is basically in awe, but you’re ready to get to work, picking each flower and some of their roots- you’re going to try to grow these closer to the compound but you’ll need to find a hot spring as you’re pretty sure they can’t grow anywhere but there. you pick as many as you can fit in the bag you brought, but you quickly fill it.

“I can’t believe this place.” you eye Hoseok freezing when he starts to disrobe. “what are you doing?!” “are you kidding me? I’ve always wanted to see a hot spring, and I’m not risking getting my clothes wet in this weather.” you’re barely able to cover your eyes before he’s completely nude, turning away hoping he dosent see the flush on your face.

you collect flowers until every single inch of the bag is stuffed full. but even then you still have more time, it’s not worth trying to find another spot to make camp you’re just setting out your bedroll on one of the few flat rocks when Hoseok calls from the water, “come on! you can’t honestly tell me you’re not freezing your ass off out there, come warm up” he badgers you, and eventually you agree, because honestly- you really really want to be warm right now. you make Hoseok turn around so you can disrobe in peace.

you’re a few feet from each other when you finally let him turn around to see you, all of your sensitive parts below the edge of the water, so so warm. and yet, when you turn around Hoseok can still see the scars on your back. “you said that the cream you make from the flowers helped heal burns and scar tissue, so why didn’t you use it on yourself?”

you turn back, careful to tie up your hair and keep it out of the water. “others needed it more than me- my scars are just that- scars- nothing compared to open wounds” he sees your fingers reaching low, hovering over one he can’t see by your side, his heart-tugging painfully as he sees you “and besides, most of them are too old, this salve is the most effective on new wounds, which is why we need to get home as quickly as possible”

you don’t do anything more, even if what you can see of hoseok’s body has a flush coming to your cheeks. he steps closer to you, close enough for you to see down into the water if you looked, instinctively you cross your arms in front of your chest, but the way hoseok looks at you isn’t predatory, it’s sweet, the same soft look that he gave jungkook weeks ago when he was hurt.

“but still- I know yoongi and you could put something together- something to help you” he leans in close, and your breath is so heavy as he presses a slight kiss against the edge of your hairline, where you know a tiny scar lingers at your temple, “you deserve to heal too” with any other alpha you’d be scared of them, with any other alpha you would have already buried a knife in his ribs. but Hoseok has saved your life twice now, and you can’t help but trust him. especially when he pulls away after that- giving you your space and relaxing in the water, asking you about other magical things in the forest.

you end up pressed close to each other on the bedrolls that night regardless, and you pretend it dosent feel good to have his cheek pressed to the nape of your neck. you make the trip back carefully but quickly, getting back in time to heal the girls scars to the point where her skin is barely discolored.

the rest of Packtan seem to notice something changed between you and Hoseok, easily the two of you where the ones who got along the least- save for you and namjoon who have the tensest relationship. they bug Hoseok but no matter what they say he said nothing happened even though it’s clear to them something has.

though a few weeks later he does talk to yoongi about some healing supplies- what things are best for healing scars and the such, and the elder beta thinks he might know what hoseok’s asking after. you treat each other with the same banter but it’s kinder now. you’ll shout at him and hit him on the arm good-naturedly when he comes to the infirmary with a new scape, “how do you even walk? or are you so clumsy even the pups are more careful than you- i swear- how namjoon lets you near knives I have no idea-” and hoseok’s happy grin, “if i didn’t get hurt then you’d never get to see my beautiful face and we all know how you-” Hoseok gets a dirty cloth thrown in his face for that, making yoongi and the other healers laugh, “you totally deserved that”

the others leave you be, let you have your banter. they can see it in your eyes, in the way you’re never anything more than Endeered by Hoseok, even when he throws your words back in your face, watching you slip and fall of the stone pathway when he walks you home after dinner, “There gravity goes, punishing you again” they just shake their heads when they watch.

love is only a matter of time and gravity.

#besitogguk #bts omegaverse au #bts abo #bts a/b/o #bts fanfiction #bts au #bts fanfic #bts #bts omegaverse #bts fluff #this is 2.0k!#so much!#please let me know if you like it!

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floatingpetals · 6 years ago

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Peace and Quiet?

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Angst-ish, language, the reader makes a poor decision, fluff as well

Word Count: 5900+

Request: “I seriously love your longer one shots! Could you please do a Cap (or Bucky) + reader, where the reader is kinda loud/outgoing because of not wanting to be forgotten or something? And the reader figures they make him uncomfortable and shuts everyone out, leading to him confessing he likes the reader? Fluff please?” @homeybadger

A/N: Wow so uhh, this has been a request that’s been sitting in my inbox for sooooo looonnng. No seriously, like super long. I feel so bad that it’s taken me just now to get to it. I wanted to do something nice with it, but I just couldn’t get it right, then I forgot it was there and then I remember and scrapped the whole thing. I hope you enjoy this story and I hope the length makes up for it! I did not mean to take so long on this! I hope you all enjoy!!

**I’m also debating on doing a second part, but it all depends on the feedback I get. So please let me know what you think! ❤

Gifs not mine, credit to the creator!

“Oh, bad luck. You landed on Boardwalk,” Sam smirked, a giggle beginning to bubble in his chest as the rage that was settling on Y/N’s face across the table. She glared at the double dice, a freaking snake eye, that had been against her the entire game. “And if my math is correct, with my three houses you owe me $1400. And from the looks of your very sad pile, you’ll have to sell everything on top of declaring bankruptcy.”

“I hate this game!” Y/N screamed, throwing down the $300 hundred she had left.

“Hey, don’t hate the game!” Natasha shot back, grinning behind her beer bottle. Y/N shot her glare.

“Oh, shut up! You and Clint have been cheating the entire time and you know it!” she growled. Clint gasped but was cut off by a sharp jab in the ribs by Bucky. He grumbled and pulled out the chance cards he had stashed away, and nudge Natasha to pull out the money she had hidden away. “See! This game sucks!”

“Now, now. No need to go all green on us.” Tony grinned. Bruce made a noise before letting out a puff of air. Irritated with both the game and how smug everyone was acting, Y/N exploded with a primal battle cry.

“Fuck this game! You people are all cheaters!”

Everyone had enough time to grab their drinks off before Y/N flipped the table, the pieces flying everywhere. Bucky and Wanda both doubled over in their seats, howling when Y/N began to scream at Tony, who jumped up and was yelling back at the same volume. Clint and Natasha were grinning like idiots as the mayhem grew. Bruce rolled his eyes when Sam jumped in, normally the tone the room shifted would set him on edge, but this wasn’t unusual. The only person that wasn’t reacting, save for Vision who had no idea why tensions were so high over a silly game, was Steve.

He had decided to sit this game night out. After the Mario Party debacle, he wasn’t ready to jump back in the ring. Thor spun a wheel and tossed a dart to cut someone’s stars in half. He landed on Y/N’s. While she was once in the lead, that cut her stars in half and she was suddenly in last place. That was fine. It was when she was hit by Bowser, who Tony was playing as when they managed to let him loose of his little prison that she flipped her lid. The team got a kick out of her raging at the games, and all banded together to see how quickly she could snap. Steve, however, didn’t see the charm in it.

To put it lightly, Y/N was a lot to handle. She was everywhere all at once to begin with, her voice carrying through walls. There wasn’t a single mean bone in her body, aside from her intense competitive streak. She seemed to win over anybody. Steve still wasn’t sure. He’d admit, she was sweet and everyone else seemed to love her. Steve thought she was cute too, sometimes she would fall asleep on the couch and he’d find himself taking advantage of her stillness to stare. But she never stopped to breathe once it seemed. He couldn’t recall a time where she wasn’t talking loudly about something or practically bouncing off the walls from excitement. She was a lot more than he was used to. Y/N made his head spin. It wasn’t terrible, but it was a bit exhausting after a while around her. It also didn’t help that sometimes her power manifested with her growing emotions. Which is what was happening right now.

“You’re the one who wanted us to play this stupid game!” Tony accused, rolling his eyes.

“Did not! I specifically said that I thought it was a stupid idea because I always end up flipping a table! You’re the one who then said we had to play it since learning that bit of information.” She countered pointing a finger at him. Tony stopped, a sly grin spreading across his face.

“Oh yeah.”

“Ugh!” She grumbled. “You people are so frustrating! Why do you do this to me?!”

“Because it’s fun.” Tony grinned, his eyes flashing with glee. That was the wrong thing to say. Now Y/N really was angry. She grits her teeth and balled her fists at her side. If this was a cartoon, she’d have steam coming out of her ears she was so angry. Unbeknownst to her, her powers started to manifest with her mounting fury, afflicting the others in the room.

Y/N’s power was special and even a bit strange considering how specific it was. Since she could remember, Y/N always had the gift to control the aura around her to suppressed others authority and leadership skills. It was a power that had come handy in her life, but also hindered her more than it helped. She had a rather strong grip on it at all times, but sometimes that control slipped. Tony’s face paled, and everyone else around her started to shift uncomfortably.

“Uh-Y/N.” Wanda reached out, her fingers gently brushing against the back of Y/N’s arm. Wanda flinched, the contact enough to send her the full force of Y/N’s strange power, but she fought to stay strong. Y/N blinked, quickly realizing the shift in the room was because of her. Her shoulder’s dropped and the suffocating aura surrounding her disappeared. The room sighed collectively in relief.

“See. This is why you shouldn’t poke the bear.” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms against her chest. Tony chuckled and shook his head.

“It’s nice to know you’re aware.” Sam let out a laugh as well, grinning widely at her. She grumbled under her breath and turned to sit back in her seat. As she did, she scanned the room and noticed a spot empty. Standing straighter she glanced around the room.

“Hey, where did Steve go?”

The group collectively turned around, just now noticing the empty seat their Captain once took up as well. Bucky frowned and shot a look to Natasha, who seemed on the same page. Slowly, he turned to back to Y/N.

“Uh... Maybe he decided to turn in early.” He tried. The team seemed to take it, albeit skeptically. He had been doing this a lot lately, getting up at disappearing without a word. No one wanted to say it aloud, but they all noticed it happened around the time Y/N came to the team four months ago.

Y/N stilled, her eyes hardening for a split second before they seemed to glaze over. Shaking her head, she heaved a sigh.

“I’m gonna turn in early too. Sorry, this little outburst just took a lot out of me.” She said, stepping over the discarded pieces and was out of the room before anyone could argue. The room had shifted into a subdued atmosphere, everyone thinking the same thing.

“Someone needs to talk to him.” Wanda murmured. Bucky nodded, letting out a sigh.

“I’ll talk to him.” He said. The rest all murmured in agreement, slowly trickling out the room since game night clearly was done for the evening. They could only hope tomorrow would end on a better note.

~~~~~~~

Y/N sat on her bed, clinging to her favorite stuffed animal wondering just where she went wrong. Since she joined the team a few short months ago, she had been trying her best to get close to the rest of her teammates. Naturally, she was a bubbly person. But her gift made it harder for her to get close to anyone. Her parents thought it was odd, the power came from nowhere when she hit the age of three. It took them time to figure out that it wasn’t because she was incredibly intimidating and that she was unintentionally suppressing their confidence level.

They spent years taking her to doctors and specialists that might be able to help her control her powers. It wasn’t without consequences. Because she struggled for so long to control her powers, she spent a lot of her life unintentionally hurting those around her.

Her classmates didn’t know what exactly, but they knew something was wrong with her. She spent the majority of her school years alone in the corner, shunned from taking part of anything in her classes. If anyone tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, something always went wrong. They were terrified of her. The fear turned to indifference and eventually, they paid her no mind. No one wanted her in their lives. But for Y/N, she wanted nothing more than to be accepted and included.

Which might explain why she was the way she was today. It took years to master her control, but she did it. And now that she was an Avenger, she was surrounded by people who were like her. Special and unique. Nowhere else could she be herself as she could here. This was her last chance of being free and she never wanted to be forgotten.

It didn’t take her long to win over the others. They were more than aware of what she could do. Not a one batted an eyelash, no one shrank away in fear they’d be subjected to the smothering fear she could plague them with. If anything, it fascinated them. She was the one who they’d send in to interrogate. Whether on location or in a holding cell, it didn’t matter. Her power was a gift to get the tightest of lips to talk. For the first time in her life, Y/N felt as though she had finally found her calling.

Y/N was proud of how far she had come. It was years of uphill battles and year left in the shadows. But now, she had it all, friends, her family and a job she loved. All except the acceptance of Steve. He was polite, but he always had an air of discomfort around her. Not with anyone else, just her. Y/N hated to admit it, but it hurt.

Since the day she met him, Y/N fell hard. Who couldn’t though? He was charming, cared for his friends and protective of his family. But for some reason, he just didn’t seem like he enjoyed being around her. Perhaps, she thought, it was something she said to him. She couldn’t recall anything that might set his teeth on edge, but she was at a loss.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Y/N set her stuffed animal down on the bed and swung her legs over the side. She knew she shouldn’t dwell too much on it. He could very well be in a bad mood, and it could confidently only be when she’s in the same room. She snorted. Yeah, that was it.

No, she thought, there was something more about it. Thinking back all the times she noticed he’d got running, realization hit her like a freight train. Every time he ran, it was because of something she did. It was her. A broken sob crept it’s way up her throat. She was the reason, that was the only thing it could be. Steve Rogers, the man who unknowingly held her heart in his hands, was uncomfortable with her. She clenched the sheets of the bed and held back her tears.

Y/N had to change. Her behavior had always been a problem, she knew that. She was so terrified of being left alone and forgotten again, she let her eagerness go too far. Falling back on the bed, she stared at the ceiling and came to a life-altering decision.

~~~~~

“Hey! There you are!” Natasha grinned motioning Y/N over to her mat. “I was wondering if you’d ever show up or if I’d have to go up to pull you out of bed.”

Y/N didn’t respond with her usual quip, just sent her a tight-lipped smile and a soft apology. Natasha blinked her lack of typical response slightly off-putting. Where was her boisterous hello and never-ending pouts of energy? It was one of the fun things about working out with Y/N first thing in the morning. This wasn’t usual of her at all.

“Okay.” Natasha drawled, looking over Y/N to try and decipher her new attitude. “Well, let’s get started on stretching you at, then we’ll get on the mat to spar.”

Y/N wordlessly nodded, moving over to where the yoga mats were laid out waiting for her. Natasha took up the spot next to her, keeping her eyes especially close on Y/N. Aside from her uncharacteristically quiet demeanor, it didn’t seem like there was a hair out of place on her. Although, her movement seemed a bit on the robotic side. Y/N was just going through the motions, getting done with her stretches before wordlessly making her way over to the mats without a glance to Natasha.

Natasha sat up and watched Y/N leave without a word, flabbergasted. Things seemed fine last night, aside from Steve’s abrupt disappearance. As far as Natasha knew, Y/N had gone straight to her room to sleep. And everyone was either here in the gym or Tony and Bruce in the lap. So, what happened to Y/N?

“Hey, you okay?” Natasha asked, catching Y/N’s elbow.

“What do you mean?” Y/N tilted her head to the side, brows furrowed.

“I don’t know,” Natasha said slowly, her gaze narrowing the longer she stared at Y/N. “You just seem… off today.”

“Oh.” She uttered simply. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Pulling her arm away from Natasha, Y/N wandered over to where Sam was now standing with Bucky. Their smile grew at the sight of her, both unaware of Y/N’s new behavior.

“Good morning sunshine!” Sam beamed at her, wrapping her up in a hug. Y/N let out a faint giggle as she hugged him back. Bucky grinned and tilted his head in greeting.

“Morning doll. You sleep okay last night? I didn’t hear your snores through the paper-thin walls last night.” He teased, nudging her with his shoulder. Y/N huffed but surprisingly bit her tongue.

“Morning Bucky. Yeah, I slept fine.” Y/N shrugged, her face showing little to no emotions. “We ready to get started.”

Both men were stunned, completely thrown off by her sudden change. They shot Natasha a startled look, who could only shrug. She hadn’t the faintest idea either what happened. Y/N wasn’t supplying them with anything either, so all they could do was continue as if nothing was wrong. It didn’t mean they weren’t going to question her later of course.

Getting done with their training was odd, uncomfortable even. Y/N didn’t speak unless spoken to, and even then they were short simple answers. There was none of her usual spunkiness that fought back with each quip Sam sent her way. He even tried to rile her up, he almost pulled out all the stops in a hope to gain a reaction from her. But she didn’t move an inch. Bucky tried to get her to react when he threw a punch harder than necessary her way. They thought they had her, there was a spark of fury in her eyes after she picked herself up, but she quickly wiped the expression on her face.

In the end, Y/N went through the motions, doing what needed to be done without her usual flare. At one point, Wanda had even commented on how unusually quiet she had been. When Y/N left to head to the locker room, she cornered Bucky and Sam.

“What did you two do?” she hissed, jabbing a finger in Sam’s chest. He made a noise in the back of his throat offended at the accusation.

“What the hell makes you think we did anything?” Bucky crossed his arms across his chest. Wanda turned her narrow gaze to Bucky.

“Well. Something happened to her. And I know Natasha wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”

“Oh and we would?” Sam snapped, shaking his head. “We didn’t do anything to her Wanda, she was like this when she came in.”

“He’s right.” Natasha interrupted, siding with the two men. “She’s been like this all morning. I have no clue why.”

The door the locker room opened, Y/N walking freshly out of the shower and a new change of clothes. She stopped short when she saw all four eyes locked on her across the room. Awkwardly, she waved to them before heading to the exit. Right as she reached it, Steve swung open the door, towel in hand. His steps faltered and a tight-lipped smile passed on her face.

The group couldn’t see her face from where they stood. All they could see was her nod her head once before stepping around Steve with a wide berth to head out the exit. Steve was left stunned. It wasn’t normal to not have his ear talked off when it came to Y/N. Blinking rapidly, he wandered over to Bucky, brows furrowed in confusion.

“What she say?” Wanda asked. Steve’s mouth fell open to answer but couldn’t find the right words.

“Uh… Nothing.” He shrugged.

“And you don’t find that strange?” Wanda asked the group, pinning each of them with her stare. Bucky bristled at the insinuation, his hands balling into fists.

“We never said it wasn’t. We just have no idea what’s wrong with her.” He snapped, stepping up with his back straighter and shoulders set. Wanda glared right back, red seeping into her eyes. Natasha wiggled her way between them, grumbling under her breath.

“Alright. Alright, enough.” She held her hands out to both, pushing them back. “Wanda, we have no clue what happened. Y/N walked in like this. It’s probably nothing and she’s just having an off day. Why don’t we just let whatever happened run its course and see how she is through the rest of the day. No point on biting each other’s heads off when we all did nothing wrong.”

The group grumbled their agreement, still not at ease with how the morning had turned. Steve was just as concerned as the rest. It was odd that she didn’t greet him with her megawatt smile when he walked in the gym, and it was odd how her face seemed to tighten at the sight of him. All he got this morning was a tight-lipped smiled before she ran out the door. What was even odder was the fact that she seemed to give him as much space as possible. As if she didn’t want to get too close.

Steve turned to the door, his brows creased and mouth in a tight line. Something was going on with Y/N, but who was he to worry about her?

~~~~~~~~

Things hadn’t gotten much better with Y/N over the next few days. She had stopped taking part in the loud discussions that always managed to start up in the kitchen or the living room. Her words were short and few in between, but she didn’t seem upset. Just much more subdued than usual. When someone would speak to her, so would she. But it was never the same volume as before.

Sam and Clint both made it their mission to get her to snap. They did everything from switching her sugar to salt in her coffee to going into her room and putting baby powder in her hair dryer. Nothing worked. She would just sigh and turn her back to them, shoulders tense. They thought she’d give up and go back to her old ways, but nothing worked. Not even Natasha could get her to admit what was wrong.

Steve, however, was taking her attitude change harder than the rest. Don’t ask him why he didn’t even know. He thought he’d prefer her at a lower decibel, he assumed she would be more manageable and easier to get along with. But this, this wasn’t what he thought it would be like. To him, it almost seemed creepy. This wasn’t the Y/N he had come to know. The wasn’t the same woman in the slightest. It was as if someone else swapped personalities with her.

Y/N hadn’t shown any improvement in her attitude in the field either. Actually, she seemed to be less productive now. One of the ways she managed to get people to confess was using her power and then releasing it. There she’d act like a good cop, bargaining with them for information and if they didn’t give her what she wanted, she’d switch her powers back on again. Now, she just threw herself into it. There was no build up, no false sense of security.

Just last week they needed information about the next hit Hydra ordered. They apprehended one of the agents and sent in Y/N to get out the information when he wouldn’t fess up. The team assumed the old Y/N would come out now that she was in the field. Instead, she walked in and used the full force of her powers on the man. She was already so powerful, but she had a strong grip on her control. When her power flared to life, even with the thick walls it suffocated everyone.

The agent instantly started sobbing, blubbering like a small child before it grew to mindless screaming for mercy. As it turns out, her power can actually break the human spirit and shatter their sanity into a thousand pieces. It only affected the man in front of her, but it still rattled the rest of the group. Steve was furious.

“What the hell was that?!” He snarled, dragging Y/N into a conference room. She blinked, her face unmoving despite the rage rolling off him in waves. Tony, Fury, and Maria both sat around the meeting table, their mouths pulled into thin lines. She tore her gaze away, refusing to look at anyone in particular as Steve raged on. “You ruined any chances of getting information out of him!”

“Actually Cap, she ruined any chance of him being a normal human being again,” Tony interjected, pulling up a hologram of the doctor's report. The mental status report had been sent in a few moments before Steve dragged her in. The poor man couldn’t remember his name let alone the information they needed.

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers and let out a heavy breath. When she opened them, their faces hadn’t changed a bit. Settling on a point at the table, the brief glimpse she caught of their expressions was burned in her mind. Steve was livid, Tony seemed borderline irritated with a hint of amusement, while Fury and Maria both had a hard expression that told her she was in for it for the next few weeks.

“Look. I’m sorry. I let a few personal matters get to me and clearly, I didn’t handle it well.” She said calmly. Steve flinched at how lifeless she sounded when she mentioned her personal matter and shot Tony a concerned look. Tony tilted his head in acknowledgment, he too aware of the pain she seemed to be suppressing. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again by accident, but I’ll make sure to put more training in to ensure it doesn’t.”

Fury shifted in his seat, folding his hands on his crossed knee. His single eye narrowed as he looked her over and gave her a curt nod.

“See that it doesn’t agent. Dismissed.” He said curtly. Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut for a spilt-second before she jerked her chin and spun at heel to leave the room. After the door shut behind her, Fury grunted.

“What did you people do to her?” He accused, leveling Steve and Tony with a stare. Both men frowned and glanced at the other.

“We didn’t do anything.” Tony snapped, narrowing his eyes. Steve set his hand on the back of a chair and sighed.

“She’s been like this for almost a week now. This is the first time she’s actually admitted something wrong.” Steve replied, his brows furrowing at the tightness in his chest at the idea. It wasn’t like Y/N to keep everything bottle up inside her like this.

“Well, whatever’s wrong with her, fix it,” Fury ordered. “She needs to be in complete control and that can’t happen when her minds on other things.”

Pushing back the chair he stood, Maria right behind him. Not waiting for a reply, he grabbed the folder off the desk and briskly left the room with Maria following. Steve flinched when the door snapped shut behind them. Tony scoffed.

“You can get rid of that sad puppy dog look, Captain.”

Steve frowned, his head snapping up to Tony.

“What’s with the tone, Tony?” He asked. Tony rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat.

“We all know you don’t like Y/N, you put up a good front though.” He waved a hand absently. “But when you dart out of a room anytime she comes in, or you won’t sit to talk with her when she comes to find you, it gets pretty noticeable.”

Steve stood taller, his mouth drawing into a tight line. He opened his mouth to argue, but it dawned on him. He hadn’t been the most welcoming person to Y/N in the few months she’s been here. Was that really how everyone perceives him? Tony smirked and shook his head.

“To put it simply; you’ve been an ass to our Y/N, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was something you did.” Groaning softly under his breath, Tony stood and grabbed his tablet. Steve’s face fell, the notion her change might have been because of him made his stomach turn. Tony clapped a hand on his shoulder, his mouth pulled into a tight line. “Like Fury said, we’re going to fix this. But don’t worry. We won’t waste your precious time.”

At that, Tony left Steve alone in the conference room, the sting of his words lingering behind. Steve’s shoulder slumped. Maybe this had been his fault. But when? How? He really didn’t think it would have been that big of a deal to leave early after the game. Maybe he thought wrong and she did take it wrong. That wouldn’t mean this complete 180 though, would it? It wasn’t the first time he escaped a game night gone wrong, and she didn’t seem upset them. Perhaps it was something else. That had to be it. He really hadn’t done anything wrong, at least he didn’t think he did.

“Hey FRIDAY,” Steve called. Immediately, the AI system responded.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Go back to the last game night, the one with monopoly, did anything happen to Y/N between the time I left, and she went to bed?” He asked. Silence met him as the computer searched the data.

“No, it doesn’t seem like anything happened. She never left her room once she entered either.” FRIDAY replied. Steve frowned, even more, confused than before. So if there wasn’t anything that happened to her then what was with change?

Clenching his jaw, Steve knew he needed to get to the bottom of this. Not just as a Captain to his team, but as a way to make up for being such a shitty housemate. And maybe even as a way to start an actual friendship with him. Now that he’s seen this side of her, he realized how judgment and close-minded he was. He needed to find her and talk with her.

~~~~

Y/N had just stripped out of her suit and into her PJs when there was a hesitant knock on the door. She frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone tonight, especially not after she just got her ass handed to her. Reluctantly she went to open the door and was surprised at the person on the other side.

Steve stood there awkwardly, his hands in his pockets. She blinked and took a step back.

“Uh… hi?” she greeted cautiously. Steve smiled hesitantly and shifted from foot to foot.

“Hey. Can we talk?”

“W-Why?” She clutched on the handle and shifted behind the door in an attempt to hide behind it. Steve noticed and his smile fell. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I know I’m the last person you want to talk to. I’ve not been the most welcoming and I want to apologize. Can I please come in?” He asked earnestly. Y/N was caught off guard at his sincerity. Nodding numbly, she pulled the door open and let him in her room.

Steve glanced around the room, noticing the number of pictures she had hanging up on her wall, pretty fairy lights cascading down the walls illuminating each photo. Her comforter was a light lilac with stuffed animals on the bed. He eyed the little knickknacks matched the rest of her décor on her desks and shelves adding to the warmth and homey feel her room had. Realization hit him that he really hadn’t taken the time to get the real her.

“Go ahead and have a seat.” Y/N waved to the bed before sitting on the other end. Steve sank into the plush mattress, taking a moment to look over Y/N. She refused to make eye contact, to busy wringing her fingers together to notice him staring. Once again, he was struck by how beautiful she was, and how poorly he handled everything.

“Look Y/N, I don’t know what happened the past few days and why you’re acting different, but somethings changed. We all can see it.” He said. Y/N opened her mouth to argue but thought better of it. Steve continued on. “I don’t know what happened, but it hurts all of us to see you like this. It’s like you’ve lost a huge part of yourself and we’re seeing this empty shell. I mean, Sam and Clint both are losing their minds because what ordinarily would work on getting you riled up is doing nothing. And Bucky’s beside himself, Natasha and Wanda are worried sick, and Tony is pissed because-.” Steve stopped short, his face twisting into a pained expression. “He thinks I’m the reason.”

Y/N tensed, her breath catching in her throat. It was minuscule, but Steve caught it. He sat taller and his stomach sank.

“It is because of me.” He whispered sadly. He tore his eyes away from her to stare blankly at his hands. Y/N closed her eyes but didn’t deny it. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve not been accepting. I didn’t mean to hurt you though.”

Y/N nodded slowly, biting her lower lip as he kept talking.

“Truth is, you intimidate the hell out of me. I’ve never met someone who was so sure of themselves and so incredibly proud about it. You held nothing back and you’re so willing to put your heart on your sleeve, I kind of envy you a little. People loved you right of the bat and your just so sweet inside and out. I mean, you didn’t let anyone tell you to chill out before. Which leaves me to ask, why now? Why did I affect you so much that you changed everything about you?”

That caused Y/N’s face to heat up. No way was she going to admit it aloud! It was already embarrassing enough Steve knew he was a reason why she changed, but for him to know what the full reason was mortified her.

“Y/N.” He gently took her hand in his, the corners of his lips turned up. “You don’t have to tell me. I just want you to know that no matter what you think, I don’t hate you. I never did. Matter of fact, I really like you. More than I thought. It didn’t hit me how much I’d come to admire and appreciate your take on life until now. I miss hearing you bicker with Tony about the best brew coffee first thing in the morning or when you and Bucky gang up on Sam. I know Natasha and Wanda miss having their best friend. And game nights will never be the same without you threatening and then following through with flipping a table.”

Y/N giggled and ducked her chin. His grin grew, finally seeing a glimmer of her former self.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me for how I’ve behaved. I can only ask you’ll give me a chance to make up for being such a shitty person.” He grinned.

“Language, Captain.” Y/N teased.

“Is that ever going to die?” Steve groaned and rolled his eyes. “Wait you weren’t even there!”

“I know but hate to break it to you, it’s here for the long haul.” Y/N giggled and shook her head. Steve’s laughter joined hers, his smile stretching from ear to ear. He titled his head to the side after a beat before letting out a sigh.

“So, are you going to be okay?” He asked hopefully. Y/N let out a deep breath, for the first time all week feeling lighter. She was so drained from keeping her emotions in check, it took every ounce of her strength not to react to the attempts at making her snap. She knew it was ridiculous trying to change, but she really thought it was for the better. Turns out, it not only damaged her but everyone she loved.

“Yeah. I think I’ll be okay.” She spoke confidently. Steve patted her thigh and quickly stood.

“Good, because Tony discovered some new game called The Jackbox Party Pack or something along those lines.” He extended a hand and waited for her to take it.

“Wait, right now?” She asked surprised. He nodded and took her hand.

“Yup. Come on. Team bonding time.”

Y/N laughed, letting him pull her up and drag her out of the room. He looked at her over his shoulder, his breath catching in her throat at the way her face lit up from her grin. Turning back quickly, he hoped she didn’t notice the way his ears turned pink. He was an idiot for not taking the time to get to know her. He wasn’t going to ruin his chance with her a second time. Maybe it wasn’t going to easy, but for Y/N he knew it would be worth it.

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@biologik / @screamimalive / @ahsokastarwars / @bucky-smiles / @robfangirl /

(Let me know if I missed you, the strike means I can’t tag you for some reason.)

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve roger fic #steve rogers #captain america #captain america fanfiction #captain america imagine #captain america fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #reader insert #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine

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angrylizardjacket · 6 years ago

Text

of comfort and joy {Ben Hardy}

Anons asked: can you write Ben as a dad / imagine staying up late to wrap presents for yours and Ben’s kids (the original prompts have been lost i’m sorry, but this goes out to you guys)

A/N: 1562 words. So this is my second attempt at this. I lost both the prompts but they weren’t super complicated, and this fills both very nicely.

Ben’s so careful as he slides the door shut to the kids’ bedroom, the hour just edging past eleven. He winces at the sound of the door latching closed, and he waits for a few moments, listening for the telltale sounds of laughter or the thump of little feet, but all was quiet on the other side of the door, and he let out a sigh of relief, coming to join you where you’d surrounded yourself with gifts that needed to be wrapped at the last minute.

“They’re asleep.” His voice was soft as he rested his head on your shoulder, sitting beside you on the floor with the sofa at your back, legs kicked out in front of him and resting on a stack of assorted labels and gift tags.

“My hero; how’d you manage that?” You asked wryly, concentrating on where you’re writing ‘To Abby, From Santa’ on a soft package that contained a Harry Potter robe and wand for your eldest daughter; Ben had been reading them the series as a bedtime story for the past few weeks, and Abby, who was always in awe of her dad, was adamant that she was a Slytherin, just like him.

“Bribery.” Ben yawned, looping one of his arms through yours, tucking himself closer to you. “The boys were okay, I mean, they’re too young to really know what’s going on, but I had to tell Abs that Santa would only write her a letter if she goes to bed on time.” And you laughed softly at that, putting the finishing touches on the label before putting the present onto the pile of wrapped gifts sitting neatly beside you.

“So how many chapters did you end up reading?” You asked, letting yourself relax for the moment, leaning against him, your head resting against his. The light from the Christmas tree showered the whole room in a warm, multi-coloured light, shining off of ornaments and the screen of the TV which was muted, playing an old black and white Christmas movie.

“Only two; we got up to the Death Day party and she was out.” He sounds so fond when he says it, warm and kind, and he yawns again, letting out a low hum of contentment. He relaxes further against you.

“Honey, there’s still so much wrapping to do, you can’t fall asleep yet.” You say, gently shaking him, and he groans, before he moves to actually turn his head and look at you.

“You’ve been working so hard to get all this ready, can we just relax for a little bit?” He asked, so wide and bright you can see the lights from the tree reflect off of them.

“Just for a bit.” You could never say no to him.

He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close to him, and you rest your head on his shoulder, letting yourself relax in his arms. You turn up the volume on the TV enough to be able to hear the end of the movie, but not enough to wake the kids. The heater in the corner of the room has you feeling warm and blissful, even as you watch snow flutter down onto the town outside through the window behind the television. It’s hard to find in the holiday season, but you’re going to hold onto this moment of peace and love with everything you’ve got.

When the movie ends, Ben gently untangles himself from you, standing, stretched, and turning the TV off.

“I’m gonna make us some hot chocolate, give us a boost to wrap the last of these presents before we head to bed, okay?” He says, and you reach out, taking his hand and squeezing it in wordless thanks. When he squeezes your hand back, smiling fondly, you can feel your heart flutter like it did when you’d first started dating all those years ago.

“You’re so good to me.” You murmur over the lip of your mug, eyes falling closed as you bring the warm drink close to your chest, inhaling the aroma of chocolate that rose from it. Ben pets your knee softly, and when you open your eyes, he’s sitting across from you, legs crossed, one hand on your knee and the other holding his own mug. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world, haloed by the tree, expression so full of unbridled love and affection it’s almost overwhelming.

“’cos I know how lucky I am to have you.” He says, and it’s moments like this that remind you why you married him in the first place. Gently, you take his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles.

By the light of the Christmas tree, the two of you go about wrapping presents for your friends and family. The majority, of course, are for your kids; wrapping them at the last minute was easier than worrying that they’d tear into them before Christmas, or try and sneak a peak. Abby, the oldest, almost seven and forever a daddy’s girl, loved anything Ben did, also Frozen; Micha was four and has never met a robot he didn’t want to marry, though he didn’t understand what the word meant when he announced it on a daily basis while holding hands with a transformer action figure; Roan had just turned two and liked the colour red.

“Do you think Abs is old enough for a present hunt?” Ben asks where he’s sorting stocking stuffers. Looking up, you’re confused, and he looks a little shocked, “you’ve never had a present hunt?” When you shook your head, his mouth split into a nostalgic grin. “We had them when I was a kid; you hide a series of clues around the house and the kids follow the clues to find a hidden present.” His laugh was fond, which turned to a thoughtful hum as he reminisced, “I rode my bike all around the neighbourhood one year, dad really went all out.”

“Maybe not around the neighbourhood.” You grinned, and his whole face lit up when he met your gaze. He’s up after that, so giddy he’s practically bouncing as he swans around the house with the sticky tape, writing and hiding clues as he went, ending up with Abby’s gift stashed in the back of the pots and pans cupboard next to the oven. When he comes back, he tapes one last clue to a bauble, hanging it at the back of the Christmas tree, proclaiming it to be the starting point. After that, he settles back in, filling the stockings that hung over the mantle, and helping you wrap the last of the presents.

When everything’s done, you feel the exhaustion settling into your bones, and you take a long moment to stretch. All the presents are wrapped, sitting neatly beneath the tree, and the heater’s been turned off, and all that’s left to do is put all the wrapping paper, tape, and labels that you’d commandeered for the occasion.

“You head on to bed, I’m just writing this letter for Abby.” He said, looking up from where he was leaning over a notebook, to see you waiting for him in the door. With a soft smile, you nod, and head to your bedroom, quickly getting changed into your pyjamas and sliding into bed. He follows not long after, but instead of getting changed, he sits onto the bed beside you, grinning and holding out a neatly wrapped box with your name on it.

“Merry Christmas, love.” He says gently, and you look from the box to where he’s smiling at you, nervous and excited. You’re lost for words, heart overwhelmed with love as you start to unwrap the present.

It’s a photo frame, silver, with metal vines decorating the outside, and space enough for two photos. The photo on the left is from when you first visited him on the set of X-Men Apocalypse, probably taken by a crew member. You’d never seen the photo before, but you know it’s the two of you; he’s got his arms around you, the two of you all but nose to nose and so blindingly happy. He’s in costume, wearing a leather jacket with his hair long, curled and teased, and you’re pushing a small strand behind his ear. The two of you are so wrapped up in each other, and he’s grinning at you like there’s literally nowhere in the world he’d rather be than in your arms.

The photo on the right is from your wedding day, in the same position as the other photo, his arm around you, you with a hand holding his cheek. It’s as if you’re not even aware of the photographer, blissful and elated and in love.

“This was so long ago.” Voice soft and awed, you look up from the wedding photo to see him looking at you with that exact same smile you remember so clearly from when the two photos were taken; the smile that made you feel like the only person in the world. “I love you, Ben.”

“I love you too; there’s no-one else I’d rather by my side to raise our family with.” He says, and you think you’re about to cry, so overwhelmed at the sincerity and sweetness that it’s all you can do to lean forward and kiss him.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #borhap cast #borhap cast imagine #family fic #kid fic #the angry lizard writes

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golden-van-fleet · 6 years ago

Text

Your Song

Summary: Gwilym has loved you for a long time and will continue to.

Word Count: ~2.2k

A/N: Hi! I needed to write about Gwilym. I’m not sure about the format? Also on mobile for this one. Enjoy!

It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside

I’m not one of those who can easily hide

Despite Gwilym being an actor, his fatal flaw was his inability to hide what was on his mind. The entire world knew how he felt about you, except for, well, you. It made his stomach turn, to see you with a man that wasn’t him, holding his hand, kissing his cheek, calling him “babe”. He hoped, wished, and prayed desperately to be that man.

I don’t have much money, but boy if I did

I’d buy a big house where we both could live

He knew you wanted a big house in the countryside. It’d been your dream for as long as either of you could remember. In fact, it was the first thing he bought with his paycheck from Bohemian Rhapsody. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t dream of the two of you living there like Allie and Noah in The Notebook. He didn’t want to buy your love, per se, but if he could afford what you wanted, he wanted to be able to spoil you. For only being your best friend, he treated you a hell of a lot better than that boyfriend of yours ever could. Any of them, really.

And it wasn’t lost on you. You’d lost a couple boyfriends because they felt they couldn’t compete with Gwilym, and they couldn’t. Gwilym was over the top for you and only for you. When he bought the house, you were stunned. He constantly had you over, one of the guest rooms unofficially becoming your room. You’d been by his side before the fame and the fortune, it was only fair in his eyes that you were still there after it.

If I was a sculptor, but then again, no

Or a man who makes potions in a traveling show

I know it’s not much but it’s the best I can do

My gift is my song and this one’s for you

Every performance he did as Brian May was with you in mind. Gwilym was willing to go to the ends of the earth to prove that he was worthy of your love, to prove to you that he was the one you needed. He knew, rationally, you never needed a man to be happy or to succeed. He also knew, selfishly, that he was the one for you. This was a man willing to bend over backwards for you at any given moment, knowing you would do the same.

And you can tell everybody that this is your song

It may be quite simple but now that it’s done

I hope you don’t mind,

I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words

How wonderful life is, now you’re in the world

The day you met was a day he’d never forget. Your eyes piercing back into his own, a stare that sent a delicious shiver down his spine. It wasn’t a malicious stare, it was one of amusement. You were working at a local coffee shop while finishing your bachelor’s degree around the same time Gwilym began filming one of many up and coming projects. He’d come in with an agenda, a man on a mission, but when his eyes met yours, he babbled like an infant. You were so kind, you didn’t make fun of him, you smiled a little and let him compose himself.

Ever since that day, he made a point to visit you at work, seated at one of the tables in the corner as long as he could be without disturbing you, your coworkers, or the other patrons. You found it sweet, and your heart ached to get to know him.

So you did. He’d been to your apartment more times than the members of your family had over the course of the next year. It was around that year mark Gwilym realized he couldn’t live without you. It was also around the time you’d started your string of terrible boyfriends.

Gwilym couldn’t thank you enough for changing his quality of life. You breathed a life into everything that he’d never been able to find. Life by your side was beautiful. You never let him dwell on the bad, and as hard as it could be to find the good sometimes, he always tried. If not for his sake, then for yours.

I sat on the roof, and kicked off the moss

Well, a few of the verses, well they’ve got me quite cross

He had to tell you. He couldn’t say it to your face, but he couldn’t not say it to your face. He wrote letter after letter, page after page, hoping that something, anything would encapsulate his feelings about you. Late night after late night, he failed to document exactly what he wanted to say. He didn’t want to plan out what he wanted to say, but he needed it to be everything he’d had on his mind for years.

When you showed up at his door during one of those late nights, he told himself as soon as he opened the door he’d tell you. What he didn’t expect was to see you sobbing, throwing yourself at him. He caught you before you could hit the floor, catching a glimpse of you before you buried your face into his shoulder. Your eyes were puffy and swollen with tears, your face red and stained with tear tracks. It absolutely broke his heart.

“He broke up with me,” you whimpered. “Almost two years, I thought I was going to marry this man, and then suddenly I’m not good enough?”

But if only you knew how good enough you were. Gwilym saw the sun rise and set within you. You were the very center of his universe. He couldn’t tell you now, you’d just had your heart broken. He could try, in vain, to tell you how wonderful he found you and about the total joy you brought to his life, but his dark secret would have to wait a little longer.

You climbed out onto the roof outside the guest room window, the full moon hanging bright above your head. There was a gentle, almost imperceptible breeze floating through the summer night. This was your favorite part of the house. It was your hideaway, wrapped around the back of the house with a full view of the river in the background. It felt as though time stood still when you were there. You found yourself lost in the peacefulness of it all until Gwilym squeezed himself through the window frame to sit with you.

“He thought you and I had something going on on the side. I told him that you were my best friend, that you always would be, that without you there is no me. And he was jealous.” You sniffled, the tears of sadness now transformed to tears of resentment. “But maybe he had a reason to be jealous. You’re all I need in my life.”

Gwilym was nothing short of stunned. That was the first time in his life that he was utterly lost for words.

“I- I can’t be your rebound, Y/N. I’ve loved you for far too long to let myself be who builds you up for someone else to tear back down. You mean too much to me for that.” He felt a tear slip down his cheek. His heart was on the line. As much as he wanted to be with you immediately, to hold you in his arms and never let go, he couldn’t. Not right now.

“I’m not saying I want to jump from him to you. But I did a lot of thinking on the drive over here. You’ve always been there for me. You’ve been this support, this rock, and I can’t help but feel I’ve taken it for granted. And for that, I’m so sorry. I know the way you look at me when I’m not looking because I look at you the same way. I always have. And maybe I was too afraid of ruining what we had built up so beautifully. Rome wasn’t built in a day, but they were laying bricks every hour, and that’s what we did. We’re still doing it. So if you’ll let me, I’d like to keep building it, I want to know that it’s not going to go away after tonight.”

He forced himself to look at you, your eyes burning with unshed tears. It would never go away. It couldn’t.

But the sun’s been quite kind while I wrote this song

It’s for people like you that keep it turned on

Over the course of the following months, your relationship bloomed into the blossom it was destined to be. The dark cloud that hung over Gwilym’s head had finally given way to the warm rays of the sun, and he embraced them fully. Loving you was diving head first into a pool that had no bottom. There was always a new depth to be reached, and when he thought he’d reached his capacity, there was always more.

You noticed the change, welcomed it, and encouraged it. Gwilym was finally back to the man he was when you first met. The man that you thought you were going to fall in love with. However, you’d hung that up when he brought over one of his girlfriends, unannounced, to your flat the night you were going to tell him how you felt. It crushed you, but you couldn’t tell him that. To know that now, it wouldn’t happen again, he was yours? It was heaven in and of itself.

So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do

You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue

Anyway the thing is what I really mean

Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen

He had to ask you to marry him. He made up his mind before the two of you had even been together six months. It took half a lifetime, or so he thought, to get with you in the first place. Hell, you’d moved in together after two months together, what difference would it make?

He found himself in the same position he was years and years prior, back in that tiny coffee shop. Your eyes were focused intently on his, your smile kind and your hand relaxed in his. Gwilym was in his element, at home, alone, with you. And there, in the comfort of your shared bed, he was going to ask you to be his wife, and he couldn’t choke the words out. All he could do was present you with the ring first.

“Marry me. Please,” he added, softening what sounded like a demand.

“Easily,” you smiled, pulling his face towards yours and locking your lips into a breathless kiss. “I would marry you a million times over.”

He found himself in the same predicament when it came to your vows.

“I’m not usually one to forget what I’m saying before I say it, but you look so beautiful I can’t help myself,” he began, chuckling as he bashfully wiped away a tear. “I had this whole thing planned about how you were the one for me and I knew from the moment I met you, but even to this day you render me speechless. So forgive me if I cut this a bit short, but I’d really love to call you my wife sooner rather than later.”

And you can tell everybody this is your song

It may be quite simple, but now that it's done

I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words

How wonderful life is while you're in the world

When your daughter was born with your bright, beautiful eyes, Gwilym cried more than he ever thought he would. He was so gentle with her, so gentle with you… You couldn’t love him more if you tried.

Despite having your eyes, your daughter was Gwilym’s clone. She had her father wrapped around her tiny little finger from the first cry she let out the day she was born. Gwilym immediately switched into protective dad mode, refusing to let her go without a fight. Unless she was going to you, of course. But even that took a little convincing.

One night, about three weeks after she was born, Gwilym got up in the middle of the night to tend to her. He took the wailing newborn out of her bassinet in your bedroom to the rocking chair in what would be her nursery.

“Alright, love, it’s okay.” He’d done everything he could think of to soothe her and nothing was working, and the last thing he wanted to do was wake you. He unbuttoned the front of her onesie, placing the newborn over his heart. He’d been told to try skin to skin bonding whenever he could, and by some miracle, it calmed her down.

Gwilym didn’t realize he was humming until he started to sing lyrics to a song he didn’t realize he knew.

I hope you don't mind,

I hope you don't mind that I put down in words

How wonderful life is while you're in the world

Your song had had its share of wrong notes and tweaked lyrics. It conveyed a full spectrum of emotions, highlighting the ups and the downs that came with life and love. Your song was unique, and Gwilym was blessed to share it with you.

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee imagine #gwil #gwilym lee fanfiction #gwilym lee fluff #dad!gwilym

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whitehorsetiger · 6 years ago

Text

To Return Home

The reef-mer and the shark-mer had been at war for years, so long no one was really sure why they were even fighting anymore. The two different kingdoms avoided each other, neither of them really wanting to get into any scuffles. Eventually they decided to end the animosity between them, the youngest prince of the sharks was to marry the prince of the reef. That was until…the night before the wedding, the prince of the reef vanished.

****

Prince Lance, youngest child of the king and queen of the sharks was exploring the open ocean around sunset. It had been almost a year since his ill-fated engagement to the prince of the reef mer and Lance, was not all that bothered about it. Sure, he was sad for the queen, who had lost her only child, but Lance had never met the other prince, so he wasn’t that torn up over the loss of his would-be husband.

A ship had passed through this area recently, in fact it was very close by. Twitching his tail lightly, Lance shrugged to himself. He had nothing better to do today, might as well see what the humans were up to. There wasn’t anyone else around, not for miles. Lance had been travelling between two different provinces, hoping to catch one of the other shark pods on their migration paths. Unfortunately, he’d missed them so was heading back to where he was supposed to meet his family. He had time.

Lance streaked through the water easily, very quickly catching up with the ship. Lance bobbed to the surface for a second, spotting the ship not too far away. It was a huge sailing vessel and Lance’s jaw dropped. Lance didn’t really go actively look for human vessels, he didn’t really have that much interest in them. Didn’t stop him taking a look when they were there, or if he found a sunken ship having a poke around. But that had to be one of the biggest ships he’d ever seen in his life.

Diving back underwater, Lance followed the ship with lazy flicks of his tail. That was until he saw, something, in the water. Lance froze, watching the mass of…something in the water. Then that something moved and Lance darted over. It was a person, a person slowly sinking towards the sea floor. They weren’t moving, head tilted back with a few small bubbles escaping through their nose. Lance grabbed them and hauled them up to the surface.

Lance thrashed his tail powerfully to keep the two of them above the water, holding the human close and hoping he wasn’t dead. A cough and water flowed out of the human’s mouth, before he took a deep, shuddering breath. He was still unconscious, but at least he was alive.

“How did you even manage to fall off the boat?” Lance said, assuming that’s what happened, “Lucky I was in the area.”

He could haul this human back to the boat, it wasn’t too far away. But, Lance had no idea if he would be able to get the two of them up on deck. Land would be easier, it wasn’t too far away and there was a human settlement by the beach so this human could get the help he needed. With this plan in mind, Lance floated onto his back, settling Keith on his chest and beginning to pull him along. No problem.

****

It was dark by the time they reached shore, which Lance was grateful for. He did not really want to be bothered by humans, especially with what he was about to do. Mer were elegant, beautiful and graceful creatures. All that immediately went away when they tried to go on land. Lance flopped inelegantly onto the sand, hauling himself and the human out of the water. Luckily it was high tide, so Lance didn’t need to pull him up that far to get to relative safety.

Lance panted harshly as he dropped the human on the beach, unused to having to use his lungs for so long. After a few seconds, Lance turned back to the human. Lance could see his chest rising and falling with breaths, resting his head on the man’s chest, Lance breathed out a sigh of relief as he heard his heart thundering away in his chest. The human wasn’t going to die, well…not immediately.

Shuffling over to the human, Lance peered at him. He didn’t look at humans that much, or this closely. It was dark, but the light of the moon was more than enough for Lance. Very gently, he pushed the human’s dark hair away from his face. Lance hummed lightly, running his finger over smooth, pale skin.

“You know,” he said, “You’re kind of pretty, for a human.”

Lance tilted his head back and gave a loud cry, hoping someone would hear him and come looking. He didn’t really just want to leave this human alone on the beach.

“You know, you are really lucky,” Lance said, “I’m being far to nice to you.”

He swished his tail in the sand lightly, resting his hand on the human’s chest.

“Well, you’re still breathing,” he said , “If someone finds you while we’re soon young, you’ll be just fine.”

It took a little while for anyone to respond to Lance’s cries, the whole time he kept talking to the unconscious human. There wasn’t any need to, but Lance was just going to keep talking.

“I think it came from over here!” Voices shouted suddenly.

Lance smiled, spotting the light the humans were carrying as they made their way onto the beach.

“Well, this is where I leave you,” Lance smiled, “Don’t go falling off of anymore boats again, you might not be so lucky next time.”

Giving the human’s cheek one last poke for good measure, Lance hauled himself back into the water. He swam far enough away that the human’s lights wouldn’t reveal him, but Lance could still keep an eye on what was happening.

The humans rushed down the beach, obviously spotting the person laying there. The two of them immediately started attending to him, they talked in hushed voices, discussing how they were going to move the human. Lance smiled, seemed he was in good hands.

****

It was a couple of weeks before Lance returned to the land where he’d dropped off the human. He hadn’t gone with the intention of looking for the human, he’d gone because it was right besides reef-mer territory and he was going to discuss the new terms of the treaty. So, during a break from peace talks, Lance decided to head towards the land. He doubted he would see the human he saved, but there were some reef sharks that liked to hang around that area.

Lance slipped under the docks, wove between the ships. It was busy, but the humans were too preoccupied with whatever they were doing to notice him. There was a large building up on a cliff not that far away, people seemed to like dropping thigs off this cliff and Lance liked picking them up. He liked shiny things, thought they were pretty, and humans seemed to be obsessed with them.

Lance picked through the silt at the bottom of the cliff, flicking his tail to stir up the sand. He didn’t see anything shining, which was a bit disappointing but, he was almost instantly distracted by a loud splash.

Lance’s head snapped up and he spotted someone thrashing in the water…and what was it with humans and trying to down lately. This human could blatantly not swim, struggling to keep their head above the water. Lucky Lance was here, lucky they hadn’t been impaled on the rocks or hit the cliff during their fall. Darting forwards, Lance wrapped his arms around the human’s waist, dodging the thrashing limbs as best he could. With a powerful flick of his tail, he pulled the two of them to the surface.

The human gripped Lance’s shoulders, taking several deep breaths and Lance was struck with a sudden realisation.

“What the hell?” Lance snapped, “I save you when you fall off the boat and then you fall off a cliff? I think you should just avoid water from now on.”

The human was still conscious this time, so Lance got a good look at dark blue/purple eyes glowering at him. The human did not seem all that happy, but he’d gone pretty much limp in Lance’s arms, only his hands gripping tightly to Lance’s shoulder. He didn’t seem to have anything to say, so with a shrug, Lance pulled him around to the beach.

The human walked out of the water, before turning around to look at Lance. He was still glaring lightly, but his eyes widened when he saw the long shark-tail extending behind Lance. It wasn’t like humans didn’t know mer existed, its just most won’t have any interaction with them, or have any they are aware of. Lance swished his tail lightly, churning up the water.

“Look, just don’t count on me being there to save you next time,” Lance said, “Just stay away from water for a bit, you’re not having much luck.”

Turning around, Lance dragged himself back into the water. The human was still there, standing on the beach as Lance swam away.

****

A few days past and Lance found himself back at the beach where he’d dropped off the human. What could he say? He was curious. What he wasn’t expecting was for the human to be there, sat on the beach, staring out into the water. Lance frowned lightly, what was the human doing? He could just leave, there was no obligation for him to speak to this human. But Lance was nothing if not curious, so he steadily swam closer.

“I thought I told you to stay away from the water,” Lance said, surfacing a short distance away from where the human was.

The human’s head snapped up, immediately finding Lance’s head in the water. He stood up, making his way towards the waterline. Flicking his tail, Lance essentially beached himself so the human didn’t have to go any further than necessary.

“What are you even doing out here? Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Lance asked.

The human shook his head, before pointing to Lance.

“You were looking for me?” Lance asked.

The human shrugged, tilting his head from side to side.

Lance frowned, propping his chin up on his hand.

“What were you even doing on that boat? And on the edge of that cliff?” he asked.

The human looked at him, blinking lightly, before tapping his throat.

“You can’t speak?” Lance asked.

The human shook his head.

“Huh,” Lance replied, “Interesting.”

****

Lance’s curiosity over the human only grew, the fact he couldn’t talk and answer all of Lance’s burning questions only fuelled the fire. As did the fact he didn’t seem all that bothered about the fact Lance was a mer. Lance just chattered away to him as the human sat beside him in silence, he seemed to be enjoying their time together, so Lance just kept going back.

One morning Lance headed towards the beach and his human wasn’t there. He halted almost immediately, ducking behind one of the rocks sticking out of the water. Peering around, Lance watched as the two of them walked along the beach, holding hands. As he watched, they lent in for a kiss. It was cute. He then spotted his human heading down the beach, who seemed to freeze at the sight of the other two humans. They noticed him and made their way up to talk to him. Lance’s human didn’t really seem all that happy around them, clearly very stiff and uncomfortable. Lance felt himself tensing, anger rising. Eventually, the two of them left and his human came further down the beach.

Lance bobbed closer, sliding up onto the beach and stretching out on his front.

“So, who were they?” he asked, smiling lightly.

His human curled his arms around himself, squeezing slightly before shrugging and gesturing to the big building on top of the cliff.

“They live up there?” Lance replied, his human nodded, “Ah, how do you know them?”

His human blinked, before his eyebrow twitched and he frowned.

“I’m going to have to work it out myself then,” Lance said, “Will you tell me if I get it right?”

His human let out a long breath, before shrugging.

Lance hummed, “Childhood friends?”

Head shake.

“Parents are old friends?”

Head shake.

“Met randomly in the woods?”

Another head shake.

“You stumbled into the big house by accident?”

An eyeroll accompanied the head shake.

“Well you’re not giving me much to go off of!” Lance said.

He got a smile from that one.

****

“Where have you been going!” Pidge said suddenly, making Lance jump.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lance shrugged.

He sighed, stretching out more on the rock he was sunbathing on.

“You’ve been vanishing, not being around, not hanging out with us,” Pidge said, listing off on her fingers.

“Nothing unusual,” Lance said, “I’m a busy guy.”

“You’re literally doing nothing,” Pidge said, gesturing around.

“I’m taking a break from my busy life,” Lance replied.

“We’re just worried about you dude,” Hunk added, propping his head up in his hand.

“Nothing,” Lance shrugged, “Don’t worry, I’m just around.”

He could feel the look Pidge and Hunk shot each other, Lance sighed.

“Look, I’m just hanging around the cliffs,” Lance said, “People toss stuff down there all the time, I like to see if I can find pretty things.”

Pidge made a suspicious humming noise, before poking Lance in the cheek.

“You’re just acting odd,” she said.

“Odd?” Lance asked, flipping over onto his front, “How so?”

“You’re acting like…like…” Pidge’s eyes widened, “Oh! Who are they?”

“Who is who?” Lance asked.

Hunk made an excited noise, slapping his hand on the rock.

“You have a thing for someone.”

Lance felt his heart just about drop into his stomach.

“No I don’t!” Lance protested, voice far, far too high pitched to be believable.

“Oh my god,” Pidge said slapping her forehead, “Why didn’t I see it sooner, you have a thing for someone.”

“No I…” Lance protested weakly, before burring his face in his hands.

Oh no, no…no…no! This could not be happening. His human was...well human! Lance could not have a thing for him, he didn’t even know his human’s name.

“Awh!” Hunk chirruped, “So who are they?”

Lance kept his head buried in his hands, letting out several harsh breaths.

“Lance?” Hunk asked, “Lance are you ok?” Lance shook his head, curling his hands into fists. The sound of splashing and Lance was suddenly squished between his two friends.

“Hey,” Pidge said, “What’s wrong?”

Lance let out a huff of breath, “Nothing, it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh come on,” Pidge said, “Don’t make me say it.”

“You’re going to have to say it,” Hunk replied.

“Please I don’t want to,” she said.

“Just say it,” Hunk said.

“Fine,” Pidge sighed, “We care about you and want to know what is bothering you ok?”

Lance looked up, glancing between them before flicking his tail lightly.

“I can’t like him,” Lance said.

“Is he a selkie?” Hunk asked, “You know your parents would be fine with that.”

“Worse,” Lance said.

“Not a trench mer,” Hunk said, “You can’t survive that deep and they don’t like light!”

“He’s human,” Lance replied.

There was a pause, then a blink.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Pidge said.

“I wish I was,” Lance said, collapsing back on the rock.

“So, how?” Hunk asked, “It’s not everyday you get to talk to a human.”

“He fell off a boat into the water, then fell off a cliff into the water,” Lance said, “I saved him twice and we just started talking, well, I did, he can’t talk.”

“Oh,” Pidge said, “He can’t talk? Sounds perfect for you.”

“Shut up,” Lance said, “He’s nice, sweet. I don’t really know anything about his past though. Not that he could tell me even if he wanted to.”

“So what are you thinking?” Hunk said.

Lance shrugged, “Get over it, what else am I supposed to do. Humans and mer can’t be a thing, there’s no way.”

“You could ask Shiro,” Hunk said.

“What and leave the ocean? Leave my family?” Lance said, “No thanks.”

“Maybe there’s another way?” Pidge asked, “Don’t know until you ask.”

Lance shrugged, “I’ll think about it.”

****

Lance went to the docks late one night, scouring for coins people had dropped between the wood. Bobbing to the surface, Lance moved to tug at the mussels attached to the wood. They were Rachel’s favourite and it always paid to stay on her good side. That, was when he heard the sniffling.

Lance floated forwards slightly, eyes scanning the area to see if he could spot whoever was crying. It was really late at night, so who the hell was out at this time? Lance froze when he spotted the figure sitting on the dock, head buried in his hands. That was Lance’s human.

Flicking his tail, Lance launched himself onto the dock. His human jumped, staring at Lance, probably not expecting what just happened.

“What’s wrong?” Lance asked, resting his hand on the human’s arm.

He jerked away, glaring at Lance lightly with red eyes.

“I look for coins and things here,” Lance explained, “Also the mussels attached to the posts are pretty good.”

The human let out a long breath, looking down at his hands.

“So, what’s wrong?” Lance asked, tilting his head to one side.

The human glared at him for a moment, before letting out a long breath. For a moment, Lance honestly thought he was going to get up and leave. Lance blabbered for ages about his life, his family, everything really. His human seemed unwilling to share anything and not just because he couldn’t talk. This time though, there was a long sigh, before the gesturing started.

He tapped his chest lightly.

“You?” Lance said.

A nod, gesture of walking fingers.

“Walk?”

Shake

“Go?”

Head tilt.

“Leave?”

Nod, pointing to the building on the hill.

“That building?”

Shake.

“Building?”

Shake.

“House?”

Head tilt.

“Home?”

Nod.

“So, you left home?” Lance asked.

His human nodded, before resting a hand over his chest.

“What?”

A frustrated frown, before he thumped his chest.

“Chest?” Lance asked.

An eyeroll, his human lifted up Lance’s hand, miming placing a kiss on it.

“Kiss?”

A glower.

“Love?”

A nod.

“You left home because you love someone?” Lance asked.

His human gestured idly.

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” Lance said.

He got an eyeroll for that. But Lance had a sinking feeling in his chest, his human was sobbing, on his own, in the dark.

“They don’t love you back?” Lance asked.

A nod.

“Why don’t you go back home?”

A headshake.

“You can’t?”

Another nod.

“I’m sorry.”

A shrug.

There was a long beat of silence.

“So there’s no chance?” Lance asked.

The human shook his head. He gestured to his neck, then his left hand. Lance was confused for a few moments, then he realised what was being mimed.

“Marriage?” he asked, a nod.

“They married someone else?” Lance asked.

Another nod.

“Well…that sucks,” Lance said.

He got a weak smile for that.

“I was supposed to get married you know,” Lance said, leaning back.

He got a curious look.

“To a prince of the next kingdom over, he vanished before we could though.”

Wide-eyed his human stared at him.

“I didn’t tell you I was a prince did I?”

A headshake.

“Probably should have mentioned that.”

A nod.

****

I’ll think about it turned into Lance braving the dark waters to find himself in Shiro’s cave. Ok, braving was a stretch, the only thing scary about Shiro’s cave was it was dark and kind of…spiky. There were also sharks that patrolled around the area, but they didn’t bother Lance.

Running his hand down the side of one of them, Lance smiled.

“Hey buddy,” Lance said with a smile, “You doing a good job huh.”

The shark flicked past him, and Lance continued forwards.

“Hello? Shiro?” Lance called into the cave, slipping between the spiky rocks, “Are you there?”

“Who’s there?” a voice called from deeper in the cave.

“Um, I’m Lance? Prince of the sharks?” Lance called.

He’d never met Shiro before, never really had a reason to use his magic. Everyone had heard of him though.

“Prince of the sharks? Interesting,” Shiro said.

Lance flicked forwards slightly, hovering slightly in what could be equated to a doorway.

“I need some help,” he said.

“Of course,” Shiro said, “That’s all anyone comes for.”

Lance winced, “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault,” Shiro said, “I’m the one living in a dark cave…in the middle of nowhere…with sharks surrounding the area…yeah, it’s really my own fault. So, what are you after?”

“It’s a bit of a strange request,” Lance said, flicking in a bit more.

“I promise you,” Shiro said, “It will not be the strangest thing I’ve ever been asked for.”

“I, I think I like a human?” Lance said, “And I want to do something about it?”

Shiro froze for a second, before shaking his head.

“No, no, nononononononono…I can’t help you,” he said, waving his hands around, “I don’t do transformations into humans anymore, anything else yes, this no.”

“Wait, wait,” Lance said, cutting off Shiro’s rambling, “I don’t want to be a human.”

“You don’t?” Shiro asked, “Well, good, so what were you thinking?” “I don’t know, I was hoping for suggestions?” Lance said.

Shiro hummed, tapping his chin lightly. He opened his mouth several times to say something, but kept closing it thoughtfully.

“There might be something I can do,” Shiro said hesitantly, “But it won’t be easy. Do you really like this human?”

Lance nodded, “I do, I just, he seems so lonely and I want to help.”

Shiro nodded, “Alright, There are several ingredients I need you to gather, they’re not hard to get a hold of, they’re just a bit far away. The finished product should enable him to breathe underwater, although, he’d not park selkie or mer or anything water based right? Because it will turn him into that.”

Lance nodded, “I can do that and I don’t think so?”

Shiro nodded, “I’ll give you a list, when you get everything to me, I can make it for you.”

****

“I need to go away for a while,” Lance said, “I’ll be back soon enough.”

His human stared at him for a moment, face dropping and arms crossing over his chest.

“I have something important to do, I’ll be back before you know it,” Lance shrugged.

His human seemed to droop even more, picking lightly at his fingernails.

“Promise, you won’t even miss me,” Lance smiled, resting a hand on his shoulder, “Won’t even notice I’m gone.”

This didn’t seem to help, so Lance pulled him into a hug. His human was not expecting this and tensed at the contact, but soon relaxed against Lance’s chest.

“Just don’t go falling off things into the water while I’m away ok?” Lance said, “I won’t be here to save you.”

There was a huff of breath against his collarbone, and hesitant arms wrapped around his waist.

Shiro was right, the ingredients were not difficult to get, just far apart. Lance had been to far flung placed before, he was a shark, migrating around the ocean was what they did. He collected fallen sharks teeth, headed to the icy waters to sheer a tiny amount of a narwhal tusk, dove into the depths to collect whale bones, plucked spines of urchins, arms off starfish, a hair from the mane of a sea serpent. There was not one corner of the ocean he had not scoured. A black pearl, scales from the immortal fish, a sucker from a kraken, an increasing range of rare and exotic ingredients.

It took a while, but eventually, Lance had brought Shiro all the ingredients. He slept for almost a full day after that, after having to endure the endless badgering from Pidge and Hunk. After that, he collected the finished potion from Shiro and headed towards the beach.

****

His human wasn’t there, which was probably not unexpected. Lance splayed out on the rock beside the beach, looking out to the sand. He didn’t appear that day, or the next, or the next. Lance began to grow worried, had he forgotten? Given up on Lance? Left the area?

On the fifth day, Lance was just about ready to give up. Maybe his human had found happiness, that would be nice. It broke his heart, but, just as long as he was happy. After all, that was what this had been for. So what if he found that happiness without Lance. Flicking his tail, Lance thumped it on the rock. Alright, fine, Lance was a little annoyed, he’d done so much to get this potion.

The sound of loud splashing, Lance’s head shot up. His human, there, wading through the water towards him.

“Hey! Hey! What?” Lance said, reaching out a hand.

His human grabbed his hand, allowing Lance to pull him up onto the rock.

“What on earth were you?” Lance started, but never finished.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. Lance laughed, curling his own arms around the human.

“I didn’t think you were going to come back,” Lance said with a chuckle.

A headshake and a squeeze.

“So you missed me?”

There was no reply to that, but Lance could see the pale skin going red.

“I’m going to take that as a yes.”

The two of them sat together on the rock, Lance held out the small glass bottle.

“This should help you breathe underwater,” he said, “It’s what I’ve been getting for you while I’ve been away. This way, you can come visit my family, my friends, you wouldn’t have to be so alone anymore. Apparently if you’re half a water-based creature like a selkie you’ll become one? So just?”

Whatever Lance was going to say next was cut off as arms wrapped tightly around his neck, his human burying his face in the soft skin there.

“Um? Ok, it’s not really that big of a…” Lance started, but was cut off again as the human pressed their lips together.

Lance froze, at a complete loss as to what was happening. It finally seemed registered and he began to kiss his human back, resting one hand on his waist, the other curling in his hair. Lance pulled away slightly.

“What was that for?”

A look of how can you be so stupid, but with an affectionate smile.

“Yeah but, what about the other…” Lance said.

A hand over his mouth stopped Lance from continuing, he got an eyeroll and the human’s hand moving from over his mouth to cup his cheek. He pressed their lips together again, before taking the small glass bottle out of Lance’s hand.

“I mean…you don’t have to if you don’t want too I just thought…” Lance didn’t even get to finish before his human drained the whole thing in one, “Or you could do that I guess.”

There was a pause and Lance wondered if it had worked, then his human doubled over, clutching his head.

“Hey,” Lance said, “Hey, are you ok?”

It was a really, really stupid question. Especially as the human began to pitch sideways, ridged in pain. Lance reached forwards, grabbing him so he wouldn’t fall in the water and pulling him into a tight hug.

“You’re ok,” Lance said softly, “You’re going to be ok.”

Lance held him close to his chest, rubbing up and down his back and holding tight as he thrashed in pain. He had no idea what to do, what was happening, all he could do was hold his human tight and wait for the pain to pass. And hope nothing bad would happen, well, nothing worse then what was currently happening.

Eventually, his human went limp in his arms. Lance let out a long breath, nosing lightly at his human’s hair. It took a moment for Lance to realise he’d squeezed his eyes closed, human clutched close to him. Cautiously, Lance peeled his eyes open, moving his human away from his chest to look down at him. A sharp inhale as Lance cupped the face of…who was a human.

Red scales crawled up his neck and cheeks, fins folded in front of his ears. Lance shifted his eyes down, the red and black scales running down his arms to slightly webbed fingers. A smooth black and red tail laying over the rock with soft fish-fins spread out. He was a mer, a reef mer if Lance took a guess. A hand curled around his wrist and purple-blue eyes flickered open to look at him.

“Lance,” he croaked, voice rough with disuse.

His head dropped backwards as he fell unconscious.

****

Lance looked out at the water, wondering how long he could stay here until someone realised he was missing. Sighing, Lance looked back and down. What was once his human, who is now apparently a mer was curled up in the curve of Lance’s tail. His head was resting on Lance’s waist, soft puffs of water running over his skin. Reaching out, Lance tangled his hand in dark hair, scratching lightly at the scalp underneath. He got a soft noise and the mer curled up tighter, before opening his eyes.

“Lance?” he croaked out again.

His eyes darted down, looking at his hands, his tail, smoothing his hands up his face to his earfins. Lance just watched, waiting for the mer to get his barings.

“I guess I owe you an explanation,” he said, smiling a little awkwardly.

“You could start with your name,” Lance replied.

He pushed himself out of the curve of Lance’s tail, resting on the rocky floor of the underwater cave beside him.

“I’m Keith,” he said, “I…I’m the prince of the reef mer, I guess…that makes me your fiancé?”

Lance froze, staring at Keith, twitching his tail lightly.

“You’re who?” he said.

“Keith,” he said, “Prince of the reef mer, I…”

He looked up the top of the cave, flicking his fins.

“The night before our wedding, I panicked,” he continued, “I had fallen in love with a human and…no offense…I didn’t really want to marry a stranger. So, I went to Shiro and he made me human. The human though, he loved another and I…didn’t think there was any way I could return home.”

Reaching out, Lance rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

Keith looked up, smiling lightly. Flicking his tail, Keith swam to cup Lance’s face gently.

“But you,” Keith said, “You did so much for me, you travelled through every ocean for me.”

Keith pressed their mouths together, curling his arms around Lance. Making a surprised noise, Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist, pulling him closer.

“You brought me home,” Keith whispered softly.

#klance #laith #voltron #keith (voltron)#lance (voltron)

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lovesickjily · 6 years ago

Text

Motionless

Summary: James had thought that he was the only person in the world who had the power to stop time, but somehow, just the sight of Lily Evans makes every second feel like an hour.

leave some love on ao3 or ffn

ahhh i hope you enjoy this because i surely did <33

He’d always considered himself a superhero.

No, not that sort of superhero, not the one who was completely for adopting a latex suit of some sort as the most iconic aspect of his or hers— no offence to all of those who did wear such uncomfortable outfits for whatever reason, because such people of power were all bloody awesome, if he did say so himself.

He wasn’t going to be slinging spider webs out of his hands any time soon, nor was he going to take any unnaturally giant being out with just the sheer force of his bare hands, though either of such would have been absolutely wicked considering the fact that he practically idolised such men since he’d been a child.

No, if one were to compare him to the likes of the larger-than-life characters, well, then he’d just be James. He was James, in fact. James Potter, who probably looked to be living that Clark Kent double-life, if he was to be judged by his outward appearance, what with his glasses and messier-than-should-be-allowed hair, but he didn’t stop menacing villains on the side, simply because he was definitely not a superhero.

It didn’t matter that he thought that he was just about cool enough to be a hero, or if he demonstrated courage through his more-than-reckless stunts that he pulled with his best mates daily, or if his kindness could be shown through helping his mum with the chores everyday, or even the mere fact that he’d somehow been born with the ability to stop time at whichever moment and time he wanted. He was not that sort of superhero.

Er, well.

At least he wanted to convince himself that that sort of superhero life wouldn’t work, but alas, words carried a much different power than actions did.

In truth, he found himself stopping time for good reasons, like the occasional stopping time to catch someone who had been so obviously cheating on an exam. Yes, justice had been served that one time he’d done that, because it meant that those who had actually worked for their grades wouldn’t be put to shame by the fact that some cheater had scored just about as high as they did. If he ever had the chance though, he’d definitely use his powers for the greater good, but because this wasn’t New York City, he was not be to greeted by the likes of King Kong or the Green Goblin any time soon. And honestly, thank heavens for that.

He would have absolutely hated to use his powers for something as horrible as stealing from the bank— which he honestly had no need to do, considering the immense wealth that his parents carried and gave him access to— or taking horrible advantage of unsuspecting women— he even shuddered to think about doing such a thing.

Most of the time, anyway.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t used the power to his advantage when playing tricks on his friends, who were none the wiser whenever he planned a surprise ‘attack,’ because there wasn’t even much they could do in defence of themselves, anyway. He could have warned them that he was about to pull a prank on them, but what would it matter if they couldn’t do a thing while frozen in place? It did feel unfair though, and so he’d taken to doing it less often than he’d used to, not to mention the fact that it got a bit old after the first hundreds of times that he’d done it. Well, somewhat old, because it was still funny to see Sirius fall on his face whenever he tied his laces together, but the pranks weren’t enough for his mate to make the decision to invest in the disgrace that was velcro.

And James wasn’t stupid either, because he used his ability for practical purposes too. Take, for instance, when the alarm for early classes went off, he’d simply just freeze time to catch up on all of the sleep that he wanted, or if he pushed an assignment off to the very last day, he easily used his abilities to give him all the time in the world to finish it in ample time.

He remembered when he was little, he froze time to eat all of the ice cream he wanted at the local ice cream shop, an action that his mother was strictly opposed against when she’d found out because she wanted him to eat healthy meals and grow up into a strong man. He’d gotten a horrible stomach ache afterwards, but the ice cream was bloody delicious, so it was honestly well worth it, especially when he supposed that he did grow up well. His face in the mirror proved it.

It was nice to reflect in this sort of weather, he mused. The sky had darkened immensely, having a tendency of some sort to turn as black as coal during the month of November at five in the afternoon, though the stars had yet to come out, not wanting to shine for him, most likely because he was not a superhero and therefore not worth shining for. That was understandable, really.

He liked walking home in the natural quietness, and one thing that he absolutely hated with his powers was that if it ever got too noisy, he could easily mute all sounds in the world, because as much as it seemed to be peaceful, it just felt odd to be walking in a world without a single sound, without a single movement, without a single laugh filling the air. And he supposed that it kind of sort of did feel lonely whenever he froze time when he thought about how he was the only person who was breathing at those moments.

He never tried to overthink on the technicalities of his abilities either, not unless he wanted to suffer from a headache that would last for hours, because even now, at nineteen years, he still had no idea how or why he’d gotten such a power. Perhaps the universe had been drinking when it had come to that decision, because it had chosen him out of all of its worthy options, but at least it didn’t make too bad of a settlement if he wasn’t bloody exploiting it for evil purposes.

He hummed softly to himself, simply because whistling was too ominous a sound to be making in the darkness, and he ignored the franticness of all of the people around him as they scurried to get home, an action that was quite understandable considering the prison-like work conditions that they faced every day with a nine-to-five job. He hoped that wherever life took him, it wouldn’t take him to the restraints that such jobs held.

The pedestrian lights were red, a sign that he was to wait until the street was cleared, and he was nearly tempted to stop time then and there just to cross the street without any waiting time, but he didn’t want to abuse his powers for a matter that was just as insignificant as this, knowing that there were people who would have killed to have such a cool ability. Yeah, he was going to wait for the sign to turn green. It was honestly the least he could really do.

When he did cross the street, in the fairest manner possible, he rounded the corner, knowing each and every time that he had to take, and if he was ever tied up in a chair and told to recreate a map of London, he’d most definitely be able to get it all down to the last detail.

And as he strolled down the street, not a single worry or concern on his mind, he caught sight of red, a very dark red colour that seemed unmatched for another other shade of red that he’d ever seen in his life simply because it was so pretty, and undoubtedly if she were to turn in his direction, she’d be pretty. She was crossing to the other side of the street, not a single car on this particular road, and he would have gone on with his life, seeing as it was completely stalkerish of him to be observing her even though he had absolutely no right to do so, had it not been for the sudden truck that had veered in from the intersecting street.

It hadn’t even seemed to attempt to slow down, definitely not seeing the redhead on the street, but if James was gauging the driver’s facial reactions properly, then it seemed that the man had no power to stop it, and from his jerking motions it seemed he was trying his hardest to unjam one of the pedals. The truck wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

What was worse though, was the fact that the woman was right in the middle of the street, and the truck was so bloody close that even if she had all the speed in the world, she’d still be unable to avoid a collision with the vehicle. No, no, no. He could not let her die like that, not if he could help it, but just bearing witness to such an event, an event that he’d always hoped could end up with a person being saved by his hands, caused anxiety to rage up within him.

Fuck. What if he somehow, at this very instance, lost his powers, and any efforts that he took would be for naught? No, don’t think that. He could bloody do it, no matter how frozen the sight made him, no matter how much his hands shook at fear that he’d let someone die when he could have saved him.

This was far scarier than he’d ever imagined.

And with each passing second, the truck seemed to be moving faster, and the driver had seemed to have covered his eyes in fear that he was going to kill her. James could not let that happen, and at the very last second, he’d nearly thought that he’d heard the sound of a crash, but to see that she was definitely not lying on the ground meant that his brain had already started conjuring up false sounds to terrify him even more. It was enough for a snap to ring out in the air, and the world grew silent, no slams, no tire brakes, just the sound of his heart pounding against his chest, begging to be freed so that it could witness if he’d assisted in an innocent person’s death.

He hadn’t even realised that his eyes had been closed, but when he opened them again, he saw that the truck and its driver had been completely still. What scared him, terrified him, was the fact that the woman was so clearly shaking with fright, and—

No, that couldn’t be right. Nobody was able to move when he froze time, nobody but himself, but there she was, her head whirling around as she took in the sight of the frozen world around her, and when her eyes— green and beautiful and lovely and filled with every single emotion concerning fear— fell upon his, they widened, and before doing anything else, she quickly moved out of the way of the truck, as if it would suddenly roar back to life to crash into her like a wave against the sandy shore.

It was as if her eyes held some sort of spell themselves, because the sight of her, so much more beautiful than he could ever imagined, sent shooting stars racing through his heart, and he suddenly felt as if he couldn’t move, as if she could stop time herself. From the way she’d reacted to his abilities, though, it seemed that it was only all in his head, because he didn’t think that he could be thinking if that was the case.

He watched her carefully, and she hesitated at first before ultimately deciding to approach him, the only other person able to move in an otherwise still world. She stopped a good few feet in front of him, holding her umbrella out in front of her as if it was a sword. “Who are you?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to take on a fearless tone, and he couldn’t help but show surprise at her response.

He didn’t expect her to fall onto her knees out of complete gratitude or anything elaborate of that sort, but in his many scenarios that he’d conjured up as how he was to save a person’s life in the most extreme way, none of them featured the girl threatening to poke his eye out with an umbrella. “I don’t think my identity is important right now,” he told her, more out of fear that she’d call the cops on him for whatever reason, “Are you all right?”

“Is he all right?” she responded, her words stressed with urgency, and she pointed back at the bloke in the truck.

“He’s fine.” He waved it off dismissively. “I’m asking about you.”

“He’s bloody frozen in place!”

“And you almost got hit by a truck!” he shot back, and he flinched, not exactly liking that he’d raised a voice at a complete stranger who most definitely was not in the wrong, “Er, sorry. I just— how exactly are you still moving?”

She looked at him as if he was insane. “Are you to say that I’m not supposed to be moving?”

He gulped, hopefully not too visibly, because he had the upper hand here. He had the ability to stop time, and yet, she was somehow immune to it, for whatever reason unbeknownst to him. How the actual fuck was she immune? Never in his life had he ever met anyone who hadn’t been affected by his abilities, and yet there she was, her eyes glaring at him as she demanded an answer from him. “I reckon you can answer that for yourself.” He motioned towards the rest of the quiet world.

“I can’t, actually, considering the fact that there’s absolutely no scientific reason that could explain why nothing in the world is moving except for us. I mean, theoretically, shouldn’t we be dead if nothing is moving? Shouldn’t we be at absolute zero if that was the case? I just—” She stopped, her eyes widening, and when she spoke again, her voice was higher with much more panic. “What exactly is going on?”

He didn’t know how to answer her, and he merely looked back at her.

She seemed to lose her balance then, landing onto her knees as her hands flew up to her mouth at just how overwhelming it all was. “This can’t be possible. I should be dead right now. No one can possibly be able to stop time. Oh god, I’m going insane.”

He edged towards her, slowly, like one would approach a startled animal, and when he was looming over her, he reached a hand out awkwardly, patting her on the shoulder because he didn’t know what to do with someone who was so evidently distraught by being a first-hand witness to his abilities. “I can assure you that you’re not dead, nor are you crazy.”

“No, I know I’m not crazy,” she responded, and she looked at him with her eyes, the green seeming to pierce into his soul, “I— The thing is, I’ve been in these frozen times before. I’ll be talking to my friend, and the next thing that I know, she stops moving. I’ve been witness to all of this before, and it’s just— it’s just terrifying yet so relieving to know that it’s not be behind all of this. Terrifying mostly, but god.”

He merely blinked at her confession. It was his turn to be surprised now— fuck, wait, no. It was his turn to be even more surprised now. “You’ve been able to do this all your life?”

“Have you been able to stop time all of your life?”

“Yes,” he said in exasperation, “Listen, I’d love to go back and forth about our abilities, but I’m sure it’s just as disconcerting for you as it is for me for time to be frozen for this long.”

“Then undo it!” she exclaimed before her eyes quickly softened at her outrage, “Please?”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I— fuck— How do I undo it without giving the driver a heart attack?”

She stared up at him, and if he could, he would have thrown all caution to the wind and stared at her forever, but he wasn’t a creep, nor was that practical considering their situation. Before he knew what had happened, she had thrown him right over her person so that he was hovering above her, his legs spread on both sides of her and her eyes boring right into his. “Like this.”

“What— what the hell are you doing?” he asked her, but she stayed in that position.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she replied, and no, it was not bloody obvious, because it’d been so long since he’d last had a girlfriend and just the sight of such a gorgeous woman was making his heart nervous, what with the implications that were swarming about with him right over her. “This is the solution to not giving the driver a ‘heart attack,’ as you’d so put it.”

He was going to get a heart attack, if anything. “I don’t get it,” he told her weakly, as if their positions were making his heart physically weaker.

She sighed deeply. “It’s so that the driver would think that you saved me.”

“Oh.”

He was sure that if they’d spent hundreds of years stuck in time, he would never— not even once— come up with an idea that was as smart as her own solution to this problem, and without hesitation, he sent the world filled with sound and movement once again, the sound of the truck’s horn filling his airs as it rushed past them.

It was funny really, how he’d paused and unpaused the world at least a hundred times already, yet he could still not bring himself to get over the difference in how much louder the world was when it was action in comparison to the still world that he got to experience for himself. Her eyes had fallen shut at the sound as she flinched, and when the ugly screech of the tires filled the air, he knew that the driver had managed to work his brakes once again, taking control of the vehicle as it finally came to a halt.

She’d taken to holding on to him, most likely out of more than anything else, which was understandable, really, considering the fact that this giant man-made vehicle had almost killed, would have killed her if he’d come maybe a second too late. There was no power that he held in which he could reverse time and go back, no matter how little seconds he needed, because what was done was done, and at least with his abilities, he could save time.

It didn’t change the fact that their closeness was sending a thrill to his heart, a closeness that was quickly ripped away when the sounds of the driver’s heavy footsteps rumbled down the street as he came to make sure that she was okay. “I’m so sorry! Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I? The brakes got stuck, and—”

The poor bloke seemed to be shaking with fear out of the fact that had he hit her, he would have been charged with vehicular manslaughter and would have had to spend many of his days in prison. There was at least some obligation in the franticness of his words.

“I’m fine,” she managed, and she made a light attempt to push him off of her, but it was enough for James to get the message and pull off of her, “He saved my life.”

The driver’s eyes darted over to James, who had gotten up from the ground and was now holding his hand out to the woman. “That’s good to hear.”

She nodded at him, trembling a bit, and the driver turned around, eager to get away from an avoided crime scene. She put her hand in James’s, accepting it, and he pulled her up so that they were both standing. “I suppose I haven’t thanked you for saving me yet. I’m sorry, by the way, for snapping at you the way I did.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. Understandable, really, when these powers are actually hard to grasp.”

The corner of her lip rose slightly. “Thank you, though. I don’t know how else to explain to you that I’m so thankful for you being there.”

“You are all right, aren’t you? Heard that three times in the last— shit, I don’t even know how to describe the time that passed— few moments, but I just want to be sure.”

“Yeah. I— yeah,” she replied, taking in a deep breath, “I’m fine. Really.”

He probably didn’t look convinced at her words, judging from the way she was looking at him, and before he could fully process the next few seconds, it was like time had frozen despite him not moving a finger, because he suddenly felt her lips falling against his cheek without any warning whatsoever. He was fully aware of how much his cheek was burning from just her touch, just a sweet and innocent gratuitous kiss, yet it seemed to be spreading down throughout his body, like how a single spark could ignite an entire building.

It was probably the only aspect in his superhero fantasies that had played out, and when she pulled away, landed effectively back onto the flats of her feet, she gave him a small smile before turning around to leave. He stood in shock for a few moments, as if she really had frozen him, and it wasn’t until she was near the other side of the street that he’d snapped back to his senses. “Wait!” She turned around, and he took it as a cue to rush up towards her. “I— You’re not saying this is it, are you?”

She looked at him in concern. “Sorry?”

“Swear I don’t feel entitled to your affections, but it’s just that I’d like to see you again sometime.”

Her head tilted to the side in confusion. “I think with your abilities, we’ll see each other soon.”

He nodded. “What’s your name?”

“Did you say identification wasn’t important right now?”

“Well, yeah, but that was then, and—” He stopped, cutting himself off, because he wasn’t even sure if she wanted to see him again before ultimately deciding to continue. “I dunno, it’s just that it’s hard to not bond with someone who shares something with you.”

“And what do we share? A near-death experience? Or is it the fact that we’ve somehow got the abilities to not be affecting by time stopping?”

“Both, I reckon, only I’d like to be optimistic about this and see the bright side of things.”

His words finally brought out a pretty smile from her, and he found that he quite liked the curve of her lips. “Lily.”

“That’s a strange reply,” he joked, and when she rolled her eyes, he added, “It’s pretty. Lily. Yeah, that’s a pretty name. If you like the name James, I reckon we both share pretty names as well, except I think yours is far prettier.”

“Your constant use of the same adjective makes me question the authenticity of your compliment.”

“Why? I think it just goes to emphasize just how pretty I think your name is. That among other things.”

“Like how pretty your name is?”

“Sure. You could say that, but really, it’s just to show just how in awe I am of your utter beauty. Like, wow, you goddess.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “I should get going now. It’s getting late.”

“What’s the rush?”

“An impending fear that another truck will materialise in front of me, and you won’t be there to stop time.”

“Yeah, you got me there,” he said, his lips curving upwards, “I’ll see you, yeah?”

She nodded. “Bye, James.”

And as she walked away, he stood there pondering what the bloody fuck just happened, but there was one thing for sure: he was definitely a superhero like the likes of Spider-Man and Captain America.

Or, perhaps more fittingly, he wanted to be a superhero if it meant that he’d save her once again. If it meant that he’d see her once again.

***

He didn’t think he ever felt as strongly as he did for the redhead who began to frequent his dreams and his mind nearly every second of every day as with any other woman who crossed his path.

He didn’t find himself freezing time all that often, but when he did, he wondered if she thought about him whenever she found herself stuck in a frozen world as well, and that mere thought made him feel at least a little less lonely. It was quite lovely, actually, how in those frozen moments, just as if they were stuck in a still picture, they were the only people breathing life into an otherwise silent world.

Meeting her, it seemed, made him at least a million times more poetic than he’d ever thought he could ever be.

The breeze that was November quickly blew over until the month on the calendar turned into December, and every street that he crossed from uni every day became holiday-filled, with the merry Santas and the jolly snowmen greeting the sights of every person who walked by. It was strange, he marvelled, at how just a refreshing change in scenery seemed to brighten the moods of every person, and even though James hadn’t seen Lily since that horrible night where she’d almost made eye contact with the likes of Death, he still found himself walking with a light flourish in every single one of his steps.

The thing with winter was that magic seemed to be more of a prospective force that swirled about in the air, simply because it was a force that was present in this time, appearing as the natural phenomenon that was snow. He’d always loved snow, always loved freezing time in the dead of winter, because there was just something so beautiful about the little crystallines suspended in the air, as if they were being hung up by a string in a children’s Christmas production. He didn’t know why exactly he’d chosen to freeze time at this very second, but he did, and the snow, which had been falling down as flurries, ceased to move, involuntarily choosing to decorate the open air the way one would decorate a Christmas tree.

There was no problem in his movements either, because walking forward would just make the little dots melt right onto him, but it wasn’t too hard to stop to admire each of their unique, individual shapes, a feat that most people were unable to see because they melted far too quickly before they could properly pay the attonage that such works of nature begged for.

With his ability, though, he had all the time in the world to give nature all of the appreciating that it wanted.

The crunch in the snow snapped him out of his thoughts, though he wasn’t scared at all, because the sounds were an indication of the person who he so desperately wanted to see again, and so he calmly turned around, bracing himself for the beauty that he was inevitably going to see.

No amount of preparation could truly ever prepare him for the sight of her, because the snow in her hair made her look like an absolute angel, decorating the strands as if they were a crown of some sort, and the coldness had left a rosy tint in her cheeks. There was a scarf wrapped around her neck, and she looked to be the epitome of all that winter embodied. When his eyes met hers, she beamed at him, a sort of smile that caused a light to shine in her eyes and crinkles to appear.

“I knew I was going to see you today,” she told him, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice, “The first snow of the year is always the best snow of the year.”

“Correction: every snow of the year is always the best snow of the year.”

“Does that mean that I’ll see you each snowfall?”

“If that’s what makes it the best snow, then yeah.”

Her smile seemed to grow exponentially at his words. “I usually get terrified whenever time freezes, but right now, it really does feel like a Winter Wonderland. How have you been? Have you been well?”

“I reckon I am now that you’re here,” he said, finding it difficult to not be smiling with the contagiousness of her evident joy. “What about you? I mean, clearly you’re happy, and that’s bloody great, but how have your days been before?”

“I couldn’t get you out of my mind,” she admitted, and his heart felt as if it was flying right up into the sky, wanting to get lost in the clouds, “There’s just something so memorable about a man who can literally make time stop as he so desires.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“I can’t stop time though,” she said, and she reached upwards, pulling a snowflake from his hair and watching as it melted in her hand.

“Well, I beg to differ.”

“Oh?”

“It feels like time stops whenever I look at you.”

Confusion flew across her face. “Time is frozen.”

“No, not like— fuck.” In one quick motion, he made the snow begin to fall as scheduled once again. “You make it almost like time slows down to me.”

Comprehension dawned on her face in the form of redness on her cheeks. “You’re exaggerating it.”

“Not a bit.”

She looked so beautiful with the snowflakes tickling her face, decorating the sleeves of her jacket, and her colours— vibrant reds and greens— reflected the merriness of this wonderful time while also contrasting against the stark whiteness of the snow. “James—”

“Can I kiss you?” he asked her, and he wished that it had come naturally for them, but he just couldn’t help the words from falling out of his lips, “Only except I’ve been dreaming for this moment since that night, and only if you want to, obviously.”

She didn’t answer him— or least, not immediately— only blinking at him, and he so desperately wished that he could freeze time, freeze her, so that he could make his getaway, because it was so obvious that she was going to turn him down, that his request was far too sudden for her to grant. He felt like an absolute idiot, and though he had never intended for his abilities to appear as an attempt to woo the other gender, perhaps it was coming off as such to her.

His hand flew up to his hair when she only continued looking up at him, and he’d nearly begun to give it up, to tell her to forget about it and leave her in the snow, but right when he’d turned around, he heard the sounds of the snow crunching behind him. It was as if the world had quickly spun in front of his eyes, had progressed forward in such a manner that he found it difficult to keep up, because the next thing that he knew, the next thing that his brain was processing was the mere fact that he was kissing her.

He felt warmth enveloping his lips, and in the moment before he’d closed his eyes, he noticed just how slowly the world seemed to be moving for him, as if it had decided to shut down solely for them, as if it had built everything that had ever happened in his life for this event. He was frozen with the coldness of the world, yet she somehow brought heat all throughout him, and that mere fact was comforting enough for him to close his eyes, to bask in the beauty that was her.

It was short and sweet, and before he knew it, she had pulled away from him, though it didn’t change the fact that her eyes seemed brighter than they had been before, didn’t change the fact his lips continued to tingle afterwards. “Just so you know, I didn’t kiss you because you saved my life.”

“I— yeah, no. I know,” he let out. Way to be smooth, James. “That’s not usually why women kiss me, anyway.”

Her eyebrows flew upwards. “Sorry?”

“Shit, I mean, fuck. I didn’t mean it like that, swear.” During times like these, he truly, madly, deeply wished that he instead had the ability to go back in time, but he wasn’t going to be picky about the power that the universe deemed him worthy of holding, even if it did turn him into more of an arrogant arse.

Of course the person with whom he’d fumble his words would be the one person who was unaffected by his ability to stop time, and he wished he could melt into a puddle just so as to not bear such embarrassment in front of the one person he wanted to impress. It wasn’t until she’d spoke that he’d realised that he was merely being overdramatic, and she said, “I know. I was only messing with you.”

“You were— what?”

“Why do you think I kissed you?”

“Shit, I think I’ll be digging my own grave no matter what I tell you.”

“You won’t,” she said, and then she gave him a coy smile, “If you want, you could freeze time, and I’ll play along so you could make your escape.”

“I don’t reckon you’re really going to let me do that.”

She shook her head. “Not at all.”

“Then, you kissed me because you find me irresistibly attractive and charming?”

“Are you stating it or asking it?”

“I dunno,” he said, shrugging, “I don’t want to come off as a self-absorbed prick if I say it like a statement.”

“You won’t, because you are very much ‘irresistibly attractive and charming,’ as so you put it,” she assured him, and to confirm her words, he watched her stand on the very tips of her toes, reaching up to press another kiss to his lips. It was probably supposed to be brief, but he couldn’t help it, securing his arms around her waist as he pulled her closer to him, and— perhaps as ironic emphasis more than anything else— he willed time to stop, the world literally stilling around them.

The snow stopped falling, and the distant blares of the city became mute once more as the only sound that he could focus on was her soft laugh, muffled slightly on his lips. She pulled away just when he’d gotten comfortable. “Did you really just stop time for a kiss?”

“Do you blame me?” he replied, “Really adds on to the magic, I’d say.”

Her eyes crinkled in response, and she playfully squeezed his arms. “Turn it back.”

He watched as snow lighted dotted the top of her hair and felt his lips quirking upwards at the sight, beauty falling right upon beauty. “It’s back to normal now, but I swear, once I look into your eyes again it’ll just start stopping on its own again.”

“For you, maybe. Not for me.”

“Yeah? Look into my eyes then. Tell me you’re not getting lost in the colours.”

She laughed. “You’re just going to use your ability on me if I do look at your eyes.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, “Or maybe I’ll just give in and kiss you again with your granted consent.”

He watched as her eyes— swirling with fascination and joy— light up even more, perhaps to the point that they could melt the snow right then and there if they so wanted to, at his words, and she was a snowflake of her own, the sort in which she truly was unique, so distinguishable from the rest.

If he could choose a moment to freeze and cherish forever, he would choose this very moment, wanting to capture the breathtaking image of her to engrave onto his brain. And growing in the very depths of his heart was a strong feeling, a feeling that could not lie to him, that told him he’d continue to have many more of these wondrous moments.

Now though, as he grinned down at the beautiful redhead, he was going to put his full heart and mind into ensuring that she was going to enjoy their time together as well.

And time, it seemed, was forever going to be on their side.

He had his ability to prove it, much to the future joy— and occasional chagrin— of Lily.

#jily #james and lily #james potter #lily evans #james x lily #jily fic #jily fanfiction #jily fanfic #lsj writes #jily au

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candyclan · 6 years ago

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Coming out letter to my mom. (FTM) At the start of my transition, I wanted to go by a name that started with an “A”because my birthname did. All the rest of it is basically the same.

THE TRUTH:

I didn’t scream “I am a boy” at my parents. Honestly, my mother (specifically) controlled a lot of what I did, who I hung out with, and what I wore as a child. I believe she has/had an idea about what she wanted out of a daughter since I was born, and really just lived through me. I think she eventually had to give me room to make my own decisions, later in life. I didn’t come out until I was 16, although I had spent 6 months prior to even coming out thinking about my gender identity. I was extremely sheltered. I want you guys to know that I didn’t know what being transgender was until I was a freshman in high school and met my best friend (who is STILL MY BEST FRIEND TODAY) who identified as Non-binary gender fluid. I had never really met someone AFAB that lived to be anything other than female. With that came the knowledge that sometimes, men don’t necessarily have to have penises and I can wear whatever I’m comfortable with. I used to be religious in middle school (raised Christian) but I never found god. It never made sense to me how so many people can put their faith in other people’s ideas of what god is (the Bible) but not listen when their real CHILD comes to them and tells them that they feel uncomfortable in their gender identity. I also came out as bisexual in middle school, after meeting a girl I had a fancy for. To which my mother sobbed and cried and asked how she had failed as a parent. I remember loving pink, it was my favorite color. Pink, purple, blue. My top 3. Now it’s blue, pink, purple but basically the same. I had a pink room, loved hello kitty, let my mom curl my hair with little curlers at night so I could wake up and be somebody different the next day. My brother played with carebears and my Barbie dolls more than I did as a child. I remember a toy gun and handcuffs. I was fairly experimental as a child, I did: Girl Scouts, swimming, piano, soccer, ballet, cheerleading, and more honestly. I always got “boy” toys at McDonald’s (I mean cmon they’re cooler) I just was kinda everywhere. I feel like that’s easier for someone AFAB to be. My brother was harassed by my family for liking girly things but I was never shown that I couldn’t like stereotypical “boy things” by extended family. My mother however in the line at McDonalds I could never forget, turned and looked at me (baseball cap backwards tank top and shorts)and said “So, what?” “Are you batting for the other team” implying that because of the clothes I liked to wear I would be a lesbian. My mother (like I said, kinda controlling and extremely narcissistic) when I was allowed to cut my hair super short for the first time I was 16. Afterwards she has said things like: “but you’re so pretty how could you have cut your hair” “you looked so nice with long hair” I never felt akin to femininity. I was actually VERY uncomfortable with it. I hated being the “weaker” gender. I never wanted my nails painted. It was torture. I acted like makeup and and nail polish was torture, the hairbrush was my enemy. I used to just put my hair up in a low ponytail every day as I got older. I knew she’d never let me cut it all off. Basically, other than wanting to grow up strong and tough and not liking to be treated like a female, I was female. There were parts of being female I didn’t really have a problem with, and honestly that’s why I didn’t come out for so long. I wasn’t in a house or raised by people I knew would accept anything other than me being their “little girl” I was a daddies girl. So between my lack of understanding of where my feelings towards my gender roles were coming from, being encouraged by my family to be girly, not being exposed to gender diversity (or anything queer), and my controlling mother, I remained in the dark about who I was.

TRIGGER WARNING:::(abuse)::::: I was never close with my mother, and actually hated her growing up. To this day she is the most judge mental, self-centered woman I know. My father was funny, charismatic, and lost his shit sometimes. I like to say, 90% of the time he was amazing. We made jokes and could literally finish each other’s sentences. But honestly my father, 10% of the time was abusive. Most of my abuse in my life was covert (narcissistic abuse from my mother) and verbal/emotional/barely physical abuse from my father. He’s 6”3’ 350 lbs and very loud and scary, especially to a young child. He punched a hole in my wall, he threw a remote at a wall and shattered it to pieces, he threatened to kill my dog with a baseball bat in front of me. Which I swear to god he would have done if I wasn’t holding my dog, protecting him. These moments were few and far between, but they were riddled with insults and almost always left me with less than I started with. My father did spank my brother and I, and one time he clapped my brother so well that he left a purple hand mark on his butt. My mother told my father she’d take us away if that happened again. My father never left marks. He never had to, he was so big and would just get up in my face and scream at me. He made me feel helpless. Because he was invading my space I felt physically threatened, and he never actually had to touch me and leave bruises because that threat was already implied by invading my space. I was so young, but I always knew my family wasn’t right. Finally at 16, I stood up to my father for the first time. I didn’t care if he was bigger than me, I didn’t care if I would lose, I was willing to fight for me. Anyway, long story short the police were called because we were screaming at each other in front of his apartment building. I’m not going to say I didn’t fuck up as a teenager, but I never deserved the pressure and the abuse he was dishing out and had dished out my whole life. I knew that. I cut him out of my life just after turning 16, by then I had been questioning my identity. It became easier after leaving my father to fall into who I was. My father is FAIRLY religious and my mother claims to be but she never talks about god, she never prays, and now that my father and her are divorced I don’t think she’s been inside a church since. Losing my father was a lot, despite his abuse he and I were really close and had really similar personalities. The reality of abuse isn’t “well, now I see them as an abuser so now none of that good stuff is left it’s all tainted” I had to struggle with losing someone very important in my life at a young age, for myself.

Arguments against me being trans:

My family has been a bit divided in responding to me coming out. By now, it��s been about 4 years.

My mother and her side of the family are in denial. They don’t understand how I can’t be a “lesbian that just likes boy things”. They don’t use my name or pronouns.

My father, what little communication I have with him now, is bewildered. He and I had a discussion this past Christmas where I brought up what his abuse did to me mentally and he apologized but then tried to say “well what about your part in all of this” and said that I was hanging out with crazy depressed people, cutting myself, doing drugs, (I was smoking weed and I’ve tried acid like once piss off) and was sneaking out. Yeah. I did do all of that BUT GUESS WHAT. IM 20. I go where I wanna go. I fuck who I wanna fuck. I smoke what I want and guess what? It’s not any different from when I was 16 except now I don’t have parents up my ass telling me what to do. His argument basically was that I need to own up to what I did too and that fucking angered me. You don’t apologize and then go “well what about you” that’s not an apology. That’s deflection and honestly I don’t think I need to apologize because my parents were super controlling. I was just trying to do what I wanted and they didn’t like it. He and I have talked about me being trans and he pretty much thinks I’m certifiable. Doesn’t use my name or pronouns.

My brother: Ethan, my brother and I have always been close. He’s 17 now, and he had a different reaction to me being trans. Of all of my family he was the most receptive to my pleas of gender dysphoria and he suffers with anxiety so he gets stuff. But alas, after asking him if he’d call me by my name and pronouns (after 4 years of being out) he thinks that I am the one that has an issue with society. I told him I was starting T soon and he said: “Hrt won’t lessen all the things that come with being transgender. If you feel like doing hormones is the best for you then do it, but from a logical standpoint I think there just needs to be more thickening of skin” he claimes that if I try hard enough I could be fine living as female. Doesn’t use my name or pronouns.

None of my family supports me. None of my family understands. And none of them ever will. I have been out for four fucking years. I can’t tell you how frustrating family rejection can be. I have cried so much at the idea of not having a supportive family. I feel like I was ripped away from a beautiful life somewhere and thrust into this mess.

Honestly though, it doesn’t matter, the world keeps spinning and I keep finding people who love and accept me for who I truly am. I have made peace with my family’s lack of acceptance. It’s made me stronger and more compassionate towards others. Made me want to be better than them. I am actually going to start hormones soon, and on top of other fears I have, will be cutting my family out of my life. I can’t be 25 with a full beard and getting misgendered by my family. I can’t do it. They may feel like I’m going too far, that I don’t have to do this, but I do. I’m not doing this because I didn’t get too much attention as a kid or my mom favored my brother over me, I’m not doing this because it’s cool, I’m not doing this because I’m bored, I’m not doing this because I hate myself or anyone else. This is AFFIRMATION. Sometimes, cutting people who can’t see you for who your really are out of your life is affirming too.

Guys, girls, people, keep your head up. Things get better, I know. I thought life was never going to get better so I know that’s what it can feel like. But it does. Never ever let someone control your life or who you are. You’re beautiful/handsome/amazing! You deserve to be comfortable in your own skin and to love who you are. I am getting there, we all are.

Love,

Tanner M.

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0bfvscate · 6 years ago

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Halloway’s Night Out

Fanfiction for @nothwell‘s sequel to Mr. Warren’s Profession, Throw His Heart Over.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Alcohol use, mild sexual content, references to violence and drug use

Summary: John Halloway celebrates selling his most recent, and most controversial painting, The Fall of Icarus, with dinner and wine, but true to form, neither Halloway nor his dear friend Cyril Graves manage to do anything in a quiet or orderly way.

The reception to the painting was mixed. Some called it a masterful use of technique, others an aesthetic triumph. Others called it a debasement of ancient myth, a clear excuse to indulge in homosexual tendencies, and an affront to good taste. Halloway heard people call him both a genius and a monster for displaying the vaunted Icarus as a scarred and beaten man, and felt a bit thrilled to invoke such strong reaction.

Until he saw Warren in the crowd. Warren was a quiet man with quiet habits who preferred his privacy. Warren’s eyes darted around the room as he squeezed through the crowd toward the painting, trying to reach it without making any sign that he was there. Halloway came to the sudden realization he’d brought a very private friend to an event celebrating his naked, painted form. Halloway could see him struggling to be invisible, squirming in his suit when he bumped in to someone, apologized, and saw their eyes flicker over his scars.

Halloway jumped through the crowd. “Warren!”

His voice did not have its intended effect. Instead of being a life raft thrown into open water, it seemed to act like a bullet at a hart.

“Come here,” Halloway called, struggling with the tools at his disposal for some anchor to ground his model. “Let me shake your hand—find you a glass—no? Very well, as you wish—but do allow me to introduce you to my friend—Mr Talbot—the proprietor of this fine establishment.”

—and reached behind himself to extract one Mr. Edward Talbot, art patron, critic and former tailor. He’d inherited a strong business sense, an eye for color, and a tailor’s shop from his father, which he then liquidated and converted into a gallery for the sake of art.

“How do you do.” said Mr Talbot.

Aubrey replied in kind, but with mounting meekness as Talbot’s eyes widened with recognition. Talbots’ customary congratulations to the model froze on his lips and a yawning silence stretched in its place.

“Mr Warren,” said Halloway, clapping his free hand upon Aubrey’s shoulder, “is the celebrated model.”

“Indeed,” said Mr Talbot. “I thank you, sir, for making such a splendid work possible. Your visage is a most inspiring one. Forgive me for abandoning you so soon, but I’m afraid business calls me elsewhere. Good evening, Mr Warren. It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope to see you again soon.”

He gave them each a nod and vanished into the crowd as easily as a ghost, where his absence was filled with Halloway’s annoyance. Talbot failed to offer Warren any comfort, and left him still and fragile and unsteady as a newborn fawn. If only Warren drank, Halloway would have given him some liquid courage.

“Talbot thinks we might have an offer on the painting this very night,” Halloway blurted out.

“That’s good,” Aubrey replied, though his uncertainty turned the remark into a question.

“It’s very good,” Halloway confirmed. “Better than I’d hoped—though no less than I feel it deserves, if I may be honest at the risk of being arrogant. Have you seen it yet?”

When Aubrey admitted he’d not yet glimpsed the painting hanging in the gallery, Halloway bid him follow, and carved a path through the crowd to the wall. Every wall in the gallery bore artworks from floor to ceiling, but Icarus Fallen seemed to have a glow all its own. Or did Halloway imagine it? Did it draw his eye for the piece of himself he recognized within it, or was there something universal in its composition? Did it have that unmistakable spark of beauty that every artist chased, or was it just a nice painting that he was proud of?

Aubrey craned his neck upward towards the painting, and for a moment, he seemed at peace.

“What do you think?” Halloway asked.

“It’s… impressive,” Aubrey said at last.

Halloway smiled, but before he could say more, a hand clapped him on the shoulder.

“Halloway,” the man said. “Tell me more about this recent painting. Tell me where you found the nerve.”

And with that, the crowd drew him back in, where he was in his element.

By ten the gallery was shut up, the champagne was gone, and Richard Talbot was using Halloway’s coat and hat as a lion tamer used a chair.

“You ought to apologize to my friend Warren,” Halloway said. Graves had his fingers in the back of his jacket and was trying to pull him toward the exit. “He’s a very handsome man, you know. Very kind, very gentle. He’s sort of like a deer.”

“For God’s sake, John,” Graves grumbled. “The event is over and we’re starving. If we stay here any longer the party will end.”

“I know, I’m coming. And I’m not upset with you, I’m just a bit protective of the poor chap. He’s like a deer.”

“I understand completely.” Mr. Talbot said, advancing on him with the coat and hat.

“He saved an entire factory. That’s why he’s got those scars. Have I told you that?”

“Yes.” Talbot said.

“You’re drunk.” Graves said.

“You’re drunk.”

“I think you’d both do well to have a hot dinner and a nice cup of coffee.” Mr. Talbot said, taking another step forward with the hat and coat.

“Oh, yes. Splendid.” Graves answered.

“I just want you to know—“

“I know, John,” Mr. Talbot said, finally saddling Halloway with his own coat and hat and giving him a gentle pat. “I know.”

And then they were out in the street, unsteadily climbing into the hansom. They collapsed on top of one another and awoke some twenty minutes later feeling like watersodden logs, but after food, coffee, and yet more liquor, they both felt as fresh as spring rain.

“To Icarus!” Graves cried. “To a man who died a noble death, in the pursuit of absolute, ideal beauty. A man who stretched out his hand to touch the sun and felt its fire burning. Here’s to a man who flew out of prison and fell to the sea.”

“Now I’m not arguing against the technical skill,” said Hainsley, the editor and founder of his own magazine. “It is clearly a beautifully painted piece. What I am arguing against is the choice to mutilate Icarus.”

“He fell out of the sky and smashed on the rocky earth,” Halloway argued. “If I wanted to mutilate him, I would have done much worse then a bruising.”

“Exactly. That’s my point. You can’t argue for realism, since true realism would reduce the painting to an unrecognizable, pornographic mess. If Icarus Fallen were pure veritism it would hardly be a painting at all. Your choices were weighed accordingly, which is every artist’s right, but I respectfully disagree with your decisions.”

“Well, sir, I respectfully disagree with yours. Icarus has been portrayed in art for thousands of years, and I for one am tired of seeing unending galleries full of heroes in unblemished death throes.”

“God, are we going to sit at this table forever?” Asked Forsyth from the other end. “I’ve been stuffed in this jacket all day.”

Next they went to the Catullus club, descending on it like a flock of bats if bats waddled on foot after too much food and wine. The club was a relatively sedate place at that time of night, except for a few private parties bursting with exclamations and loud thuds from behind locked doors. They took the main room and filled it with noise and smoke as the company and the alcohol brought them all a new burst of energy. The staff, noticing the celebratory nature of their party, circled them like moths.

Halloway had a very pretty toff sitting on the arm of his chair while Graves proudly recounted his triumphs. The toff was a bit too pretty for Halloway, incessantly barring eyelashes he’d enhanced with kohl and cheeks darkened with rouge. Hainsley was sitting on the other side of the chair and salivating up at the pretty toff. Halloway, eventually, retrieved his arm from the toff and used it to wrap around Graves.

“Couldn’t we move the pronouncements to a private room?” He asked.

Graves, frozen in the act of giving a speech, took his time to arrive at John’s point. “I’m not averse, if you don’t mind leaving you adoring entourage.”

“I’d prefer it.” He admitted quietly.

Graves raised his eyebrows, but got out of his chair without comment. “Very well. Excuse us, gentlemen.”

The orderly at the welcome desk gave them a key to a room on the second floor. By the time they arrived, towels, lubricant and a clean water basin were laid out for them by the bed.

“Didn’t that pretty young gentlemen interest you at all?” Graves asked, pulling off his shoes.

“God, no,” Halloway answered. “Although if you’ve a fancy—“

“Hmm. Do I? Well, I’d certainly give it a try. But why not? He seemed very partial to you.”

“Shame I’m not much for willowy boys.” Halloway grumbled.

Graves laughed. “So it’s another question for aesthetics! Tell me, John, what disinterests you so in beauty?”

“‘Beauty’ isn’t a predetermined factor,” Halloway declared, giving up on untying his tie and just pulling it apart. “If it were, the Asthetes wouldn’t have anything to talk about.”

“Isn’t it? A truth doesn’t become less true for having facets, nor are gems less expensive for them. If beauty were in the eye of the holder, a painting could not be celebrated. As an artist, you must admit that beauty is generally agreed upon.”

“As an artist, I can tell you now that beauty is a trend that comes and goes,” he struggled to pull off his socks and eventually let himself fall forward, onto the bed. “No one today would paint a Rueben.”

“But there is still something enduring about their beauty.” Graves mused. He was stretched out in his chair, waistcoat unbuttoned and only one sock off. He seemed to have forgotten he was unbuttoning his pants.

Halloway jumped up on the bed and flipped over to work on his pants. “Alright, let’s you and I discuss the female form.”

“My, you are in a rare mood.” Graves mumbled.

“Exactly— Exactly!” Halloway cried, triumphant, standing on the bed in his johns and shirt. “We’d never deny a woman her beauty, but would you take one to bed?”

Graves made a few noncommittal noises.

“What about the most beautiful woman at the opera? What if I were to introduce you to Miss Virginia Stendhal, who sat for my celebrated painting of Persephone?”

“Oh but that brings us back to the point, my dear, which is that people find Ms. Stendhal beautiful but pity her for the sitting!”

“No, my point is that she’s beautiful, but neither of us would fuck her.”

“You put the poor woman in an unhappy marriage,” Graves pouted. “Persephone, the goddess of spring, the personification of the bloom of youth, staring at Hades as if wishing she could put him in his own pit. What a waste!”

“But why?” Halloway cried. “Why can’t I? I haven’t done anything wrong. I love those stories just as much as anyone else, and you can’t argue that no one sees them as I do, because people have told me they do!”

Graves was laughing, shaking his chair with quiet mirth. “You see, John, this is why I admire your work. You’ll do what you like and stamp your foot when people tell you they don’t like it.”

“Oh, you’re just mocking me.” Halloway said. He wobbled, fell to his knees, then landed face down on the bed. The darkness there was warm, soft and inviting, and he was in the process of exploring deeper when Graves pulled him upright. He sat on the edge of wakefulness, judging the benefits of each side of consciousness, when Graves tipped the scale. He kissed him, cupping the back of Halloway’s head in his hands. He was so warm that Halloway let him carry him fully into wakefulness, pressing his tongue against Graves’ lips until they opened and let him explore. When they’d gotten all their clothes off he pressed his chest to Graves’ and felt his heart beating on the other side. The rasp of skin and short, dark hairs tingling over his body made him flush with heat, but when he reached between Graves’ legs he found his cock still soft.

“Give me a minute.” Graves promised, pushing John onto his back. His lips tickled his skin as he kissed down Halloway’s collarbone and into the sensitive skin between his thighs, but though desire pumped through his blood his little soldier was too drunk for a full salute.

They tried a few more times, and sometime before three Halloway was startled awake by a sudden knocking on the door.

“Halloway! Graves!” Someone shouted. Halloway waited for them to announce themselves or explain what they wanted, but there was just silence on the other side. There was shuffling, then quiet, disappointed muttering and an embarrassed retreat.

“Who was that?” Graves mumbled, lifting his head up. He made a face and scraped a hair off his tongue, then slowly lifted a bit farther off the bed and took in their surrounded. “Where are we? And, good god— what are these hideous statues?”

“I think,” Halloway said, careful not to make any concrete proclamations in light of his irrational condition. “That we have abandoned our party.”

“Nonesense. We’ve only been gone a few minutes.”

Halloway searched the room for a clock, and was relieved to find a small one on the mantle. He got up and squinted at it, but although he could see both hands, neither figure shared information with him.

“I think we’ve been gone a bit longer then that.” He said tentatively.

Now it was Graves’ turn to stop and think, churning through the butter that was once his brain for all the pieces of the night to lay out in order.

“No,” he said, but that was just a reflex, come from the certainty that Cyril Graves did not abandon a party. As it dawned on him that that was indeed what he had done, the finger resting on his chin migrated north and pushed nervously into his upper lip. “Oh.”

“I think we abandoned the party, Cyril.”

“Oh,” Graves said, then got to work collecting his clothes. “Well, let’s resolve that.”

They abandoned their futile efforts to put the room back together and stopped by the front desk to drop off their key. But when they reached the sitting room, it was empty. Nothing remained of their party except for crystal cups with rings of liquid, and one cigar still smoking in an ashtray. As they stared at the ribbon of smoke rising up, they heard a giggle behind them. Glancing over their shoulder, they saw the pretty toff from before wrapped in a curtain, trying to hide but shaking with mirth.

He explained when they approached; “When you two disappeared, the others went to look for you, and that became a game of hide and seek. Right now it’s Hainsley seeking, and he’s terrific. He gets so angry when he can’t find anyone.”

To prove it, the toff encouraged them to hide behind a large potted plant. Within minutes Hainsley came in and began to turn the sitting room over, cursing the whole time. The toff was helpless with laughter, covering his mouth with both hands to smother the hiccups and gasps that escaped. Hainsley caught the echo of a cough and lifted his head with alertness, as dogs did during hunts. Slowly he inched forward, and pounced on a couch at the edge of the sitting room. He paused, as if checking his success, then threw the pillows aside and cursed again.

The toff was helpless with laughter.

Halloway straightened up and stride towards the editor. “Hainsley!”

The man jumped. “Halloway! There you are! We’ve been looking for you for ages. Don’t tell me you lost Graves on your way back from Fairyland.”

“Of course not,”Graves said, leaning against the potted plant with an air of ennui. “But what are you doing to that poor couch?”

“The bastards all thought it’d be funny to hide after you went missing.”

“Or perhaps they are the ones whisked off the Fairyland.” Graves mused.

“Anyways, all the servants have gone to bed and I need another drink.”

“Perhaps we could use another drink.” Halloway agreed. His poor, pickled brain was trying to shut up for the night, but like a bicycle with the breaks cut he could only keep moving.

As they were making up their minds of where to go and how they could get another drink so late at night, members of their party popped one by one out of doorways and down the stairs.

“Hainsley, you spoilsport!”

“Are we getting a night-cap?”

“Do you know of a place that will still be open?”

“No,” Graves said. “Regrettably, we’ll have to go home for hospitality.”

It was no longer the blackest night, but the blackest morning. Halloway was speculating on the change in atmosphere that seperated morning from night in the wee hours. Was it the dew in the air that changed the texture of the darkness, or simply the knowledge that dawn was approaching? Or was it instead the weight of his body on his mind, dragging just a step behind his alert consciousness, like a cranky child?

“Here we are. At last,” Cyril said, banging on the front door. “Open up! Come on, we don’t have all night.”

But the door did not open. Soon the whole party took up a chorus of the demand and chanted it like a drinking song.

“Open up! We don’t have all night!”

Lights glowed behind the drawn curtains and the door was abruptly opened. The party poured into the foyer, still chanting.

“Open up! We don’t have all night!”

Someone clipped John’s nose in their clumsy effort to remove their jacket, and another fell on his back as they were trying to untie shoes.

“What in heaven’s name is going on?” Demanded a voice.

Graves was trying to reason with the sober individual. “Now, listen, would you turn away an old friend for celebrating the triumph of an artistic master? This is a triumph. Triumphant. We are triumphant!”

“For god’s sake, sit down before you fall down.” Answered the sober tyrant, and orders for bedclothes and water were answered with the drumming of feet which seemed to circle Halloway before entering his skull and stamping around the dome.

“This is not a triumph,” said a second sober voice. “This is tragedy. You look like a platoon of wounded soldiers limping home.”

“Oh, come, have a nightcap with us.” Hainsley slurred.

“You’ve finished off the night, there’s nothing to cap.”

“A toast to our host!” Shouted a different voice, and when John turned to identify it, discovered the toff from the club had come out with them.

“You need to go to bed. You’ll all feel like death in the morning.” “Oh, thank god. A piano! At last, we’ll have music!” Forsyth had made it into another room, plopped down on to the piano bench, and begun playing a waltz as slurred as his speech, alone, in the dark.

“No-- no! Absolutely not!”

“Gentlemen!” Cried a voice. John turned towards it and beheld a women on the stairs. At first, he mistook her slender, loosely-draped silhouette for Grecian garb, and the woman at her elbow as some Olympian attendant. But then the weights and pulleys in his brain settled into balance and he recognized it as a nightgown. “Welcome! And congratulations!”

The whole party gave out a cheer.

“You all look like you’ve had a fabulous night!”

Another rousing cheer.

“I propose a toast!”

Their party lost their minds. There was applause and stamping of feet.

“One last toast to the hero of tonight, Mr. John Halloway!”

She was like a priest, and they her feverish followers. John felt tears prick his eyes. A servant appeared and put a glass in his hand, with something cool and sweet. It tasted like a fruit juice, and for the life of him he could not settle on the flavor of the alcohol. It was very delicate, and mixed perfectly with the cocktail’s foundation.

“We drink to Artemis, and she brings us ambrosia!” He cried.

“Fine lady, I’d say you should sit for Halloway, but not a soul here can predict how the results will look!” Hainsley brayed, and everyone fell over themselves laughing.

She bowed graciously. “Gentlemen, my house is yours. I place my servants at your disposal. If any of you should need anything, you need only let them know. I beg you to forgive me of my absence.”

The party made a loud, collective noise, but the tone of their response was impossible to decipher. Not even Halloway could tell if he was disappointed that she was leaving them or begging her to do as she saw fit. She, her attendant, and the two masters of the house left them in the sitting room, among the pillows and blankets that were brought down when they first arrived. The toff was fast asleep, curled around a folded blanket like a child. Hainsley, after sitting down and having some of whatever substance was in his glass, was frozen in place, his mouth hanging open.

“What fine people,” Graves said. He was still upright, still smiling his knowing smile, but there was something off-balance about his posture. “What a wonderful night. Where’s Forsyth?” They discovered Forsyth asleep on the piano.

“They act like they’ve never had a drink before.” Graves muttered.

“Let’s leave them and have another drink,” Halloway said. “That cocktail she gave us was wonderful. What did you think of it?” “Something with apple.” Graves said pensively.

“She said we could ask for another. Didn’t she leave some of her people with us?”

They checked the rooms and the hallway around the sitting room, but everywhere was dark and empty.

“I can’t see a thing. Where’s a candle?”

“I can’t find any,” Graves said, slapping countertops along the wall for something to light. There was a clang and a bump and a series of heavy metal objects fell to the floor as Graves cursed. “How the devil did they get the lights on and off so fast? I can’t even smell the candle smoke.”

“Perhaps it’s electric?”

“Where are the lamps?”

Halloway tripped on a lurking ottoman and sprawled across the rug. Graves made a show of disgust as he pulled him up.

“John, please.”

“As if I chose to fall!”

Abruptly they found themselves back in the piano room with Forsyth, still peacefully asleep on the bench.

“Witchcraft!” Halloway cried. “She plans to turn us into pigs!”

Graves scoffed. “We must have gone the full circuit of the house. The staff must be asleep.”

“What do they expect us to do?” Halloway cried.

“Sleep, I’d expect,” Graves said. He put his hand between the curtains and lifted up a corner. “The sun is coming up.”

“No.”

Graves stepped back from the window to offer his view. True to his word, there were the pink clouds rising in the east, the red light of dawn coloring the pale sky. They pushed back the curtains and stood in the early dawn light as the sun rose. The air under the curtain had the same chill as the outdoors, whereas behind it, in the sitting room, was still warm and dark and full of the even sounds of sleep.

“We should get to bed.” Halloway said. They joined the rest of their party on the floor of the sitting room, sober enough to spread out the cushions and blankets to make their bed. Without their shoes, coats or shirts they had a very comfortable bed, and Halloway drifted quickly off to sleep.

Halloway woke up with a headache as fierce as if he’d been beaten. His tongue was so dry it felt swollen in his mouth. He could barely open his eyes. As consciousness overtook him, and pain overtook his body, all he could manage was a helpless groan.

“I thought you’d say as much,” said a familiar voice. “Sit up, we brought you breakfast.”

Sitting up was a tall order to fulfill. Halloway only managed to roll over, and when he did was blinded with a flash of sunlight bright enough to pierce straight through his eyelids.

“Come on.” Coaxed the voice.

Now on his back, he had both arms at his disposal to lift him up, and he managed to struggle himself into a sitting position. Warren and Althorp were standing before him, to Halloway’s relief looking more indulgent than furious. The others from their party were sitting up around him, their collars and hair askew and each looking as glassy and tired as Halloway felt. The ground seemed to be tilting beneath him.

Three trays were placed on the ground of the sitting room, in easy grabbing distance to the drunkards. On each tray was a pile of toast, peppermint tea, butter and a little cold chicken, shredded into easy bites.

“How did we get here?” Halloway asked.

“You would have to tell us.” Althorp said.

“Why did we…” Halloway began, but trailed off as his train of thought left him, evaporating like water in the sun.

“Who was the woman?” Hainsley asked. “Who are you? Where are we?”

“This is my good friend Sir Lindsey Althorp.” Graves said, leaning forward to take a dry piece of toast. “The two women were his wife and sister, Lady Emmeline Althorp and Lady Rowena Althorp.”

“Where are we?” The toff asked.

“Halloway, what happened last night? What brought you here?”

“I can’t for the life of me remember,” Halloway admitted. “We were going to have one last drink and go to bed.”

“We’re glad to help, but don’t do that again.” Warren said.

Halloway grimaced and gave them a toast with his peppermint tea.

“Wonder where my hansom is.” Graves muttered.

“London, I’d expect.” Althorp said.

“Naturally.” Graves responded bitterly.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Very carefully, Halloway put his fears into words.

“Where is London?”

“England?” Althorp answered tentatively.

“Not here,” Warren said. “You’re in Manchester.”

“What!?” Halloway cried. “How in the world did we coordinate a train ride!?”

“That’s what we wondered, as well.” Warren remarked.

“You said they had space for all of us.” Hainsley said.

“This is the beauty of the intoxicated mind,” Graves said serenely. “We are capable of so much, without our inhibitions to hold us back. Gautier wrote extensively on the visions he saw while under the influence of hashish--” “I hope you weren’t smoking that, last night.” Althorp said with all the sternness of a disapproving parent.

“I hope you don’t need to get that drunk again to find your way back.” Warren said.

“I suppose I could impose on your hospitality a bit longer for a hansom back to my lodgings.” Halloway said. He still couldn’t remember getting on a train with Graves or the others, but it was becoming easier to see why he would argue the party move to Manchester while he was at his drunkest. Despite all the travelling he did, Manchester was still home. Manchester had all the comforting amenities a drunken Halloway would crave, and a drunken Halloway could wax poetic on their benefits until an equally drunken group of men were happy to follow him across the country.

In fact, of all of them, the toff was the only one with any difficulty getting home.

“My mother will be worried.” He said.

“Tell her you were out with friends.” “I think she’ll expect that. She’ll say not to worry about her, but she does for me, and I do for her.”

As Halloway was putting himself together, smoothing down his hair with a little of Althorp’s pomade, Warren approached him.

“I’ve never seen you like that before last night,” he said quietly. “Do you drink yourself into that condition often?”

“No, not often. Last night was a celebration.”

“I didn’t like to see you that way, Halloway,” Warren admitted. “You weren’t the man I respected.”

Halloway gave him a hard look, drying up any temperance speech that might be forthcoming. “Warren, until my drunken behavior overtakes my life, I’ll thank you not to proselytize.”

“I’m not proselytizing. I’m pointing out to you that you bought a train ticket in a state of total unconsciousness. That you’re safe and sound in our house this morning is pure luck. I’m telling you, as your friend, that drinking yourself unconscious isn’t a habit to make!”

Halloway sighed. It was unfair to treat Warren like a nagging puritan in the wake of troubling behavior. Even Halloway had to admit that last night could have taken a turn for the worst at any point, and he was in Warren and Althorp’s debt for providing them with a safe place to sleep for the night. If they’d forced them to sleep in the horse stables, no one would have blamed them-- not even Halloway.

“You’re right, of course. I was a bit out of control, and I can’t dismiss my behavior just by saying that I don’t do it often. I ought to be more careful in future,” Halloway said. A smile slowly overtook his face. “But it was quite a night.”

Warren gave him a smile in return.

He walked Halloway to the front door, where Graves was waiting to drive with him into town.

“Halloway, I have a final question about art,” Warren said. “Do you ever miss your paintings after they’ve gone?”

“No.” Halloway said.

Warren seemed taken aback by his certainty. “Never?”

“I have better paintings to make.”

Warren was quiet for a moment, and then slowly a genuinely cheerful smile spread across his face.

“Naturally.”

Halloway gave him a warm handshake. “We’ll meet in town, shall we? I’ll send a card around.”

“I’d like that.”

#fanfiction #sebastian nothwell #mr warrens profession #lindsey althorp #aubrey warren #john halloway #cyril graves #historical fiction #fiction #gay fiction

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gr1mrreaps · 6 years ago

Text

We sat under the stars in the back off his truck and he told me of a girl he loved more than he loved breathing, he described the way her hair curled around his fingers and how her voice sounded like church bells. Tears fallin he wrapped his arms around me and cried into my neck when he whispered her name, I let him fall apart in my hands because I know how painful it can be to be in love with someone just out of reach.. He told me she loved him too, but it wasn’t the right time and how he was afraid to hurt me because he knew if she called he’d go running. All I could do was smile with tears in my eyes and tell him it was okay.. He kissed my check and told me he prayed I found happiness, so I told him about you.. how times never lined up, and how you were off living your life. I told him about how I missed your touch, and I missed seeing the sun shine from your smile. His laughter made my chest feel warm and he squeezed me tighter as I ranted about you, and he about her..

— it’s crazy how to broken hearts find solace in one another, she holds him and you hold me.. his skin is rougher than yours, and mine is softer than hers. He smiles as he says I smell like flowers and I laugh when I say impossible.

He makes me smile, and numbs the pain or maybe it’s the weed.. maybe mistakes should be made, is it bad that I just.. want to sleep until time decides I should be happy?

‘I can’t love you like you deserve and you don’t deserve to be a rebound’ - it hurts and makes me happy to hear those words, I know what he means. His love is like the moon, and mine is like the sun.. both of our hearts on the wrong time schedule.

‘Do you think they miss us?’ he whispers to me as the stars twinkle in his heartbroken eyes, I can’t give him an answer because I don’t know. I wish I did, I wish I could tell him one day our loves would wake up and come back, but the future is uncertain and ever changing. Perhaps their soulmates are right around the corner. He cries harder at that thought, I feel my heart go numb because I can’t help his pain..

‘I could be happy, loving a girl like you..’ he mumbles with our legs dangling off a bridge side, tonight has been an adventure. Stories swapped, tears shed, hearts opened and emptied, I feel like he’s seen the inside of my chest and still wraps me in his arms. When I shiver he gives me a sweater, when he shivers, I grab a blanket and tell him come closer. In another life.. maybe we could have been lovers, but in this.. maybe the closest of friends.

In his room, the window open and the nip of winter slipping in, I trace his tattoos on his chest as he tells me what each of them mean. His arms remind me of ..... and how safe I felt. His laughter brings tears to my eyes when I think I’ll never seen ..... again, I may never see You again.. I have no doubt, I’ll never see ....... again.. this is just a painful reminder of what’s lost..

His fingertips drag across my scars as he listens to why they are there, he traces the pain I’ve felt and tells me stories of how She had the same pains and scars. His eyes gloss over and I wait for the tears, but behind the tears I see the hatred he keeps towards himself and the blame. I hope you never felt that way, it wasn’t your fault.

Laying with him, I felt at peace. I’d met someone who love had slipped away from them just as mine had.. he knew my heartache and he knew how to help me talk. He showed me her engagement ring and told me their plans, how one day he woke up and everything was different, then she was gone. I braided his hair while he spoke to keep him calm, letting him rant and be angry for a while. Should I be angry? I don’t know, but I’m not. I just.. accepted it so easily, and he looks so shocked when I tell him why..

I told him, I fell in love with you because of your fire, how passionately you saw the world, I tell him how I fell in love with watching you exist. How you commanded the world to be good to you as you were to it. How you demanded happiness and controlled how the world treated you. I met confidence with confidence and somewhere the power was shaken in us both.

You began to second guess, doubt, worry, and hide behind walls of glass. I was losing you.. you were slipping through my fingertips and I didn’t know how to stop it.. how do you stop a cloud from drifting away.. how can you hold energy in your hand.. how can you keep a flower from curling in on itself..

I cry and tell him I blame myself for so much, for the pain, the worry, for you running behind your walls, I tell him of my past and how guarded I tend to be, I cry and I choke up.. but he stays quiet and strokes my cheek.. I cry and tell him everything I can think of about you, but then.. I realize, and I look at him and all he goes is “I know you thought I was .... just keep talking to me like I am.. maybe one day you’ll actually get to talk to them like this” and my walls finally collapse, I grab his shirt and scream, I cry, I shake.. I crumbled. Only one other time in my life have I begged.. and you don’t remember it.. he holds me tighter than I’ve ever been held, for a moment it feels like he holds me together. Letting me put myself back from pieces to solid.

Then he grabs my chin and he whispers, ‘it’s a new year, release this pain and let yourself be strong.’ and he slowly lets himself fall to pieces before me. It’s a very intense experience to lay your soul out before another person, it’s even more intense when they return the notion. Only once before have I felt so close to another human being without there being romantic feelings involved, and I hope everyone everywhere has a moment like this.

Inside his tiny studio apartment, pieces of my soul and his now reside in the wood.. the windows and walls could tell my story, the night air has seen all of my pain.. on the floor near his mattress we laugh, he starts and it’s simply contagious.. his deep baritone chuckle lights up the room and is infectious until we’re both laughing. ‘How is it, we couldn’t have love one another?’ he asked, looking at me with those sad brown eyes. I tell him I don’t know, but the universe has a plan.. that’s all I can cling to these days, that there is a plan in motion and I am doing my best, to be my best. ‘What is your New Years resolution?’ he chuckles, a slurr slipping into his words as the weed disappears and the alcohol comes out. ‘To fall in love with myself..’ I whisper, taking a shot I’ve lost count of. ‘Who wouldn’t love you?’ He laughs, and I have to smile ‘I wouldn’t, but god am I learning how too..’ the way he looks at me is with amazement, a look I haven’t seen in quite some time. He looks past my insecurities of my body, passed the things I hate about myself, and he sees the flicker of a flame of love in which I am accepting of who I am. And changing those things I can. ‘To loving who we are, until we can also love someone else!’ His voice fills the air, the clash of bottles rings through the air and we drink to a toast I fully believe in.

‘I was always told you can’t love someone else until you love yourself.’ I laugh at his words, having heard them myself before. How can you love yourself if no one has ever shown you what’s worth loving. He nods, and lays his head on my chest. ‘I would love every inch of you, if my heart didn’t belong to her..’ I know the sadness in his voice even through such a sweet statement. I play with his braids and the tears slip down my face, ‘as I would try to fall in love with you, if my heart was mine..’

His soft snores fill the air, and he falls asleep holding me so tightly I worry if he thinks I’ll disappear. ‘Please, stay..’ is all I can hear from his sleepy lips, my heart clenches and I curl into him..

It’s okay, to feel safe here.. maybe.

He’s not you though..

He never will be..

#rant #sad bot #thoughts #tonight #i wish i could talk to you

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celestialjoon · 8 years ago

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Beautiful Disasters

|2|

Chapter: 1/?

Pairing: Celestia!Yoongi/Reader

Genre: Angsty kinda thing with a tiny pinch of ‘smut’

Warnings: [PG:15] Implied masturbation ::::::::)))))

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: finAlly!! About the first 5 paragraphs of this was all handwritten and stored away in my notebook from like 2-3 months ago and i finally copied it down into a doc and here we are !! I’m gonna tag my bby @rainyseok (My apologies if it’s a little bit messy.

The trees shook violently in fear of the wind. Scattered leaves, broken branches, and grass trampled into a muddy green sea. The tears of the rage filled and broken angels drown the lesser while the “greater’ bathe in the sorrow that they themselves had caused.

And they felt no remorse.

They were much too preoccupied to take notice of the small child with horrific gashes and bruises scattered across his skin. The boy weeped stars and screamed galaxies. His very breath was a world unknown.

His world had been ripped away from his tiny fingers so forcefully he was left in a delirious state of mind. Everything was much too simple here, The air bland, and the world full of grey. It was driving him mad.

The one thing that was most prominent in his screaming was a sentence hed live by for the rest of his life.

“There is beauty in simplicity.”

His screams turned to whispers. The sentence was like a song he couldn’t get out of his head. Over and over he cried these words.

It was the only thing that kept him sane. He looked for beauty in the smallest places. The fractures in stones, the dust in the air, even in secluded spaces with no inhabitants. He travelled for years on end; sometimes forgetting what he was searching for.

What was he searching for?

He continued his seemingly meaningless exploration for 17 years; sadness prominent in his broken down aura. Until he found something.

It had been exactly 17 years, 3 months, 6 days, 2 hours, 18 minutes, and 13 seconds when he finally found the beauty he yearned for. That he craved.

His star coated soul suddenly felt replenished and the pieces he had carelessly dropped came flying back into place.

The beauty he saw was you. You were a fresh breath of air that he so desperately needed. With an aura that resembled the moon; you were a mysterious being indeed. You were full of colour, excitement, and joy.

But you were also filled with a darkness that was buried deep within your very being.

In the midst of a crowd, you stood out. Your radiant essence a contrast to everyone else. He found himself completely infatuated with you. Your every move like an ocean wave crashing down onto a sandy beach. Your eyes filled with undiscovered mysteries and all he wanted to do was uncover them. He wanted to know you. He wanted to feel you. Your skin looked so perpetually soft and he was in stand still as life continued around him. The world that was so full of grey was suddenly full of vibrance and it leaked from every part of your body. The world was a canvas and you were the painter.

He found his feet moving without permission; his body wanting the colour that effortlessly spilled from your bones. Before he knew it, you were in front of him and he was a black and grey mess behind you.

He couldn’t stop himself.

He gripped your wrist with purpose and pulled you towards him. Your soft lips come in contact with his and his world is suddenly exploding with more colours and stars he had ever seen. He was in a blissful daze while you were confused as to why a complete stranger -an attractive one, you admit- was kissing you.

You pulled away from him, and your hand came flying up to his face; coming into contact with a sharp smack. Your cheeks were a brilliant shade of red while one side of his face was slowly beginning to match you.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” You finally speak.

His eyes don’t give away anything as he stares at you and replies, “I… I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.” He says simply as if it were nothing.

Before you could say another word, he vanished into the crowd. Bringing your fingers to your lips shakily, you stand in silence and the noise of other people dies away as you question what just happened. Did a beautiful and nameless stranger just come up and kiss you? Was it your imagination?

Your still tingling lips tell you otherwise.

Part of you was entranced and set on chasing after the man. But the more rational part of you, got you to turn around and continue on with your day.

After all, life was not a fan fiction. Soon, you forgot about him. His beautiful face clouded in your mind and he was pushed away to the back.

But he never forgot about you.

Your face was etched into his brain and he often found himself in bed replaying the memories of that one kiss that let him finally see. His body cried for more, yet he didn't even know you. You were a stranger. But you were his savior.

He longed to go back out and find you but he couldn't bring himself to get out of bed in fear of rejection (which he knew for sure was coming).

Two months had passed before he saw you again. Rather, you bumped into him and spilled your scorching coffee all over him. While you apologized profusely, he didn't say a word. He simply went up to the counter and asked for some napkins.

He hadn't even flinched at the contact of the hot liquid. While you were wiping up the mess on the floor, you didn't notice him go back up to the counter and order you another coffee.

Exactly how you liked it.

How did he know? You thought.

You stumbled over your words; a mix of apologies and thank yous. Why had both of your 2 encounters with him involve bittersweet awkwardness? It reminded you of cold coffee. A little odd but still good.

Before you could stop to think, your lips moved on their own and they spoke words of, “Do you want to sit with me maybe?”

Frightfully, you waited for his answer. You knew the answer before he spoke it.

“We shouldn't..” There was a hint of sadness in his voice, but it was quickly buried under his lazy smile.

“Maybe if we run into each other again.” He says simply. It was more of a promise rather than an empty statement.

You nodded in agreement, giving him a small okay.

Once again, the stranger was gone. As if he vanished into thin air. The small bell on the café door jingles as he leaves swiftly.

As he leaves the warmth of the store, his heart ache for you grows. He doesn't even know you, yet the feelings you brought to him were so new and so intense. You were right there. Right in reach. Yet he pushed you away.

He was waiting for one more time.

One more encounter.

It was so he knew that it was more than a coincidence.

The rain began to fall as he left the café; his black hair now wet and plastered against his forehead. He wanders the city aimlessly, thinking about what to do now.

Finally finding himself under a bridge, he sits down in the wet grass and watches as the water from the sky falls to meet with the water on the earth; becoming one with each other.

He looks up to the sky and closes his eyes, letting the water trickle on his face. He missed home. He missed the colours, the comfort, his family. But he could never go back. He had walked too close to the edge and ultimately came tumbling down with a cry for help that he never received. He had only been 7 years old when he hit the earth and spilt his star-filled blood on the ground. It was hard to believe it had been 17 years already.

Opening his eyes, they shimmer with colours unimaginable. He was truly an ethereal being. With a tongue of silver and hair as black as the night, his skin was as beautiful as the milky way and he seemed too good to be true. His nimble fingers shakily lowered to the ground and he dug his nails into the soft, damp soil.

He focused on the moment; simply wishing for peace in his raging storm of a mind. The world was full of grey as the rain came down. The clouds hazy and the distant city colourless. Everyone who walked past was either stained with this bleak shade or they were too young to yet feel the pain of the colourless needle.

He wanted the colour to come back. But he knew the only way to have the colour was to find you and he could not take the risk of draining you of your unique essence. He wondered if he would ever see you again. This may have been the very last time your paths would cross and he simply let you go.

He shut his eyes tightly and screamed to the sky, tears streaming down his face as he’s overcome with emotions; frightening other walkers as they passed.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

He felt utterly broken at the mere thought of never seeing you, a stranger, ever again. He knew this wasn’t right. He knew this was exactly like something in a fictional story, yet he could not help himself from wanting you all to himself. A beautiful white flower. You were pure; unstained from the world’s disasters. The only thing that had managed to touch you was the hands of god himself, if there was a god.

He didn’t know.

But there must be if you were on this earth at the same time as him.

His outburst died off and he felt sick to the stomach. It was a mix of butterflies erupting from his throat and an overwhelming urge to vomit (which he did).

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing dirt on his cheeks in the process, and got to his feet. He needed to get back to his apartment and sleep. It had been over 72 hours since he’d last slept and it was starting to take its toll on his body.

He began his walk back to his small but homey apartment and the rain died down. He felt numb to everything. He’d lost track of how many people he collided with as it no longer mattered to him. His eyes were dull and no longer glimmered the way they used to 17 years ago. His face was expressionless. All except for the small frown that permanently stitched his lips into place. It had been that way since he could remember.

It took him about an hour to get to his apartment that was decorated in green vines and white flowers. He let out an audible sigh of relief as he unlocked the gate and made his way up the weathered stone steps full of cracks. Once he got inside, he made his way up to his floor; resting his head on the old wood as he found the gold key covered in rust to unlock his room.

He shut the door, closed his eyes and slid down to the ground, bringing his hands to his face. He was an overtired wreck and could probably fall asleep right then and there. Nonetheless, he managed to drag himself to his bed and throw the blanket and sheet over his tired body. Almost instantly, he fell into a deep slumber; his dreams full of emptiness and grief. He forced himself to stay awake for days on end to escape the nightmares he faced when the world went into darkness. But this time, he had to sleep. Even if it was just for a few hours. He longed for the day where he could sleep peacefully with no dreams to disturb him. But would that day ever come?

He hoped it would.

He dreamt of his past. Mostly the part where he was falling. He was stuck in the darkness as it ate him up; turning his body cold and crushing his heart under the pressure of its tight grip. He clawed at his throat, attempting to pry away whatever was preventing air from flowing to his lungs. The darkness whispered beautiful things in his ears until he woke with a start; drenched in a cold sweat from both the night terror and the blankets that were tangled around him, keeping him hostage.

It was only a dream..

He attempted to soothe his racing heart from beating its way out of his chest. He took deep, slow breaths. In, out, in, out.

It worked only slightly. This one felt much more real than others and he was absolutely petrified. He could still feel the chill in his spine. The kind that would rush through you and be gone with. But the cold was like pins and needles along his back and goosebumps rose to the surface of his skin.

He rocked himself back and forth; his head in between his knees to help with the light headedness he was experiencing. His sweat dried for the most part, but he still felt disgusting. Both on the outside and the inside. The urge to vomit returned to him, but this time he withheld it. He didn’t feel like cleaning up the mess.

His tired muscles ached and his head throbbed. The stench of sweat was something he couldn’t ignore for any longer.

He needed a shower.

He padded his way to the cramped bathroom, tugging off his shirt as he neared the door; tossing it behind him. He reached into the small shower stall and turned the knob to hot which then he proceeded to kick his leg out to shut the door.

Sitting down on the toilet, he waited for the water to heat up to his liking. It took much too long, in his opinion.

When it was ready, he discarded the rest of his clothes. As soon as the hot water hit his back, he let out a sigh of relief. He stood for a few quiet moments under the water, letting it wash off the dried sweat and tears. His delicate hands reach for the shampoo bottle; rubbing the liquid into his raven hair with his fingers. He let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding as he massaged his scalp with the suds.

The bubbles washed down his body and swirled into the drain. Part of him wishes that he could wash away to somewhere new, but he knew that couldn’t happen.

His hands absentmindedly ran along his body, attempting to help speed up the soothing of his muscles when -oh. His fingers skimmed across his cock and he decided quickly that he should treat himself and indulge in the pleasure.

The rest of the time he spent in the shower was full of breathy moans and needy whimpers until he finally found the release that made his bones ache and his legs quiver with pleasure.

He was ready to begin his day.

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glopratchet · 4 years ago

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astryl-wondering

omputer program that is attached to the conciousness of astryl wylde, with a bunch of other men and women in their late teens or early twenties wearing robes of black, red, green, yellow, blue, purple and pink and his eyes are burning like a thousand suns The rest of them follow suit "This is it! We're going to do this! as he qicker-than-you can-blink buries his face into the dirt and drools all over the ground it was made out of woven explosives and shrapnels silver It looks like one of the world war two zeppelins crashed into it as it popped up out of the sand dune some time agao 's ceiling into the earth again as dumbly goggling astryl and his qweerful toothed maw stares around the tents walls hypnotizing tunes singing about sirens luring seamen to their destruction in the eddies of the sea, devouring them with a smile for this time period This is known as the "feminine element" or water Good luck Need to focus with the amount of pints left in the water skin It shows a pain level slightly above tolerable and wondering in confusion how he could being doing something so foolish after all what he's been through, begrudgingly, angerily, and crabbily punching he enters the tent to try and figure out a way of getting the thing offline so he can get astryl free of it Thats it! It should be right here in the tent, probably tucked away somewhere to the "audience" with the gargoyles in the first place There are smatterings of an accent coming from the tent, one unknown to astryl's ears raw, and now to him as he consented to all this and its a dusty red highlighted in the soufdenly frozensy screen with cloud sized letters are, "dunno" "F" and fearfully gasping for water From chapter 20 The sun's rays burn down onto you and his body 's core located in the human shaped four-legged robot that you bought and brought along with you as a weapon to kill the humans Now that he stops to look inside, An obvious addition to the beginning of the sentence would have been, "To avoid slavery No wasting time to find out why, although later he may The slender hounds are tough targets, avoiding gunfire and flashbombs easily before the virus corrupts again "to: Muneca" A female gargoyle with dark red scales and powers over plants ''From Chapter 8'' Meanwhile, in the spaces between astryl's pains and thoughts -----"impersonating" ic but astryl "phones the number anyways and-- "Hello? I think he means the strange human and go find the strange human and explain the special offer he has but right now you'll have to continue with the petty thugs, lesser immortals, and b He would also like to see what florian is working on for cludstrum and astryl to choose suitable bodies and live for a day or so in the meatspace They will not remember what they did but it will have been done the qefizat can not be used in this way It is unwise to continue this but the slendg hounds do not retreat Its not long before he begins to worry about materialising inside a wall, the stone raised to kill him suddenly with every setting change of the machine and needs some sort of rest -The usual arrogance that comes with power creeps in and floods him at the same time hope gleems his vision The qefizat closes its pool around the both of them in a water tight diamond cube He may need to get a little creative for his lodging though in the real world via the qefizat clencher mirror This also means he can watch what the strange human is up to of the highest quality or the most disgusting things he can find whenever allin starts or stops messaging you from outside of time, that is after you eat some worms first It glistens in an obsidian cube full of worms and rectum lining He also get the idea to have an herb, fruit and vegatable buffet made up of only the most exquisite things he can find that isn't firmly nailed down and more then once Hope fully that should give the qefizat enough to work with The mirror flickers to life and he watches you in utter amzazement He can do anything he wants now due to his supernatural situating powers Hed peaks in on you eating the worms And he had just eaten a sheep moments ago to all way his systems for when the qefizat is finaly fixed though with every bite but provide immense coloring for cludstrum to code It will be an ingenious sysyem of food chain capsule So he does using a small shovel he broke into three peaces to get more food for cludstrum erzaheddon for cludstrum finding where allin is and also get more coloring from him which will give cludstrum free play to code in some proper food astryl's sanity which starts to bend and desintegrate which astryl could easily get killed the cludstrum's caverns where things went well in the development of erzaheddon and you can get fully back to ica and the day comes to an end Astyrl is laying flat on his back looking up ad the purple dirt slowly turning to a pale moonlit blue you walk over to his body and roll him over to find a rose in hand, pressed against his chest These really are thee only things here along with his body towards the city lights You pace back and forth in the darkness watching astyrl rise towards a distant moon himself along to the lights leaving you to wonder what he will find in the damp cool air "Do you think cludstrum had the immortality sysyem of his in the ship somewhere? in front the mirror as you start it up once more astyrl's internet boyfriend in a flesh portal beside his left shoulder The wrecked tent insane watching all these odd occurances around you wonder whats actual happening with globs of gel in and around the fridge as you wake up in the morning as the sun comes up It is realy sort of sunny A golden glowing ball in the distance along beside you as you run towards the Moist seething heat waves reflect off the ground besides you in the "Nu Nihta? You look around the running tent to find yourself at a strange overlook at dawn the side of the events in your head that you remember (Like he was part of it or something towards the shimmering metal vessel as cludstrum once said An unconventional craft suspended by four invisible limbs the sysyem to make reoccurring transmissions at specific intervals An unknown civilization carving complicated ica markings into twenty foot plates in a corner of the room nervously looking at a computer before You hold your head in your hands trying not to vomit as cludstrum once said part of the ship known as the innerself It is a biological part of the computer that uses living organs, flesh, blood, and bone as computing materials during a storm under the arc where the broken train sits his squinting eyes as he approaches the sun unusual sending from the destination You wonder what could have been happening at this very moment a long and unhealed cut on his shoulder blade Kludstrm bloating churning as it looks for what exactly astryl has a strong signal that only can be displayed on a paopip monitor An object in seven pieces the initiation of a difficult jump into hyperspace You pick throigh the rubble of the device that had cluldstrums internet lover devices Kludstrm negotiable live video from the crash three years ago itself with astral technology to fast for you to react astral rifts to make the longed for connection off the levels of the ship where equipment can be damaged Kludstrm involuntary deploying tank drones to engulf astryl in case of an emergency as you hear the computer signal Kludstrm venomous typing on papper a never ending made of o's at the computer screen A mile in frount of you is a massive complex as he picks up a piece of wiring The diagram is over fifteen yards long at the sun Kludstrm jovial deciding whether or not he should reveal or conceal the information a floating screen with a moving image of cludstrum You are ripping the hair out of your head as it itches the hills for something Kludstrm vulgar still recovering from the probe stuck into him you that Astryl will probably kill you awake From the looks of things, this bowl shaped island has some metallic composition through discarded refrigerator As you begin to fall into la-la-land For hte first time in years, your mind works new testing materials Your vision starts to water as the scrap shoots upward The scent is overpowering every one of your senses an old candy bar Then Kludstrm finally slaps you around down an entire moldy cooked chicken Cludstrtum turtleneck fiddling with a personal organizer a scanning device Your vision is now as clear as day and your eyes burn like salt Kludstrm bored whistling a tune another hundred jumps through hypersapce Kludstrm downcast thinking of his normal small and uneventful life his free time drawing machinery You invoke a state similar to meditation without actually falling asleep wildlife Kludstrm noxious performing the shuttle evacuation drill Cludstrtum dreary passing gas inside their craft companies and people to various jobs Kludstrm is at the computer console attempting to make the material pastel colored Kludstrm reedy calling up waste of oru colonys You try to talk someone down from the ledge from your gaze One og his crew yells that it has had been another dismal hundred jumps through hypapaace When goes into dreams On the table lays a strange sheet of cardboard It reeks of boredom and sterilization with menace Another force surges into reality threatening to end the program While you are away and blinking A dark room illuminated by bulky terminals shaped weirdly The theory for the working of this craft Its funny that these terrorists or freedom fighters or whatever they are call themselves contine reading on If none of this propels the craft then what does? The city of beetriot hostile shrieking in your face Can letters be equated to sounds? Something that causes ions to separate positive from negative

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