#it's 1am and i should probably save and read tomorrow to see if this even males sense | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kwonhoshi0 · 4 years ago

Text

𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 | fic

navigation | requests : open | 12th march 2021

pairing : dabi x fem!reader

genre : fluff, angst

word count : 3.1k

warnings : fire, death, trauma

themes : strangers to lovers, mutual pining, denial, story changes,

summary : you had to get away from the toxicity that is your father and the hero society. after 17 years of being trapped, you finally have a chance to escape but with a man you didn’t really expect to help. you wondered why he helped you, you don’t know it’s because you don’t question his looks, you saw him not his scars.

you didn't plan for this, you didn't expect him to save you.

the corrupted superhuman society, the toxic society you lived in angered you. maybe things would've been different if your quirk, or your parents weren't who they are.

they wanted to mold you into the perfect weapon against villains, were the villains really the bad guys? who had the right of calling people heroes and villains. what separated them.

those thoughts you asked yourself each day growing up, if you could even call it that.

everything was okay at first, you felt loved, but once your quirk manifested that changed, drastically.

training everyday until you couldn't move, the tears, the bruises. when would it be enough, is this really what it took to be a hero, to be deemed worthy of such a title?

you had already had to endure 12 years of training constantly, for your dad. you always wondered what is would've been like, to grow up in a stable happy home.

your father had been rejected by the superhuman society, his views were called sick and twisted. he wanted, needed to make you the best. that would've been okay if he let you have a childhood, if he trained you like a daughter not a robot.

your fathers quirk is jet fire, he can quite literally make jets of fire with his mouth. the green haired man wasn't always bad, he didn't always push you or bruise you. you remembered there was a time, he would hold you, he’d spin you around.

your quirk is the manipulation of fire, with the particles around you, you can create fire and other gases like smoke. it was a literal merge of your parents quirk, except you don’t breathe fire you create it with your hands.

your mother hasn't talked to you properly since your father started training you at the age of 5. maybe it was the guilt, she never questioned her husband, he had left another woman for your mother, personally you thought she was the last thing holding your fathers sanity together. the guilt of ruining you, corrupting you had haunted her so much she didn't even notice the scars and bruises on your body.

you had never had a real mother figure to show you how strong women are. she would never tell you this but she wondered where you got your anger and courage from.

everyone has a breaking point. yours was when you realized your parents would be living your life for you until they die. that terrified you more than you'd like to admit. the thought of living your life as a hero, a hero you didn't believe in or want to be. an entire lifetime in someone else’s shadow.

did you really live 17 years for this.

you thought about this as you stared up into your ceiling. it was 1am and you couldn't sleep, again.

you had had an argument with the green haired man you were cursed to call dad. it got heated and you locked yourself in your room, you had a bag packed full of clothes and money. staring at it you thought, is it worth it, will all this be worth it.

heroes and villains, you scoffed, they're all the same.

hearing loud steps coming up the stairs, you panicked standing up quickly and shoving the bag into your closet.

“y/n!”

“what” you looked at your door where the man stood, putting your book down next to you.

“training in 1 hour” you stared at him incredulously, it is 1 fucking am and this lunatic wants me to train, Now.

“no” you deserve sleep, you only finished training a couple hours ago.

“you will train with me in one hour, or else i’m taking your phone and you’ll be training until tomorrow night.” you sighed frustrated and angry as he slammed your door shut. of course he’d take away my one fucking escape.

your eyes darted to the bag peaking out the corner of your closet, maybe today is the day.

you stared at it for a minute before grabbing the bag and checking everything was in there before grabbing a couple more items of clothing and your charger cable. you quickly got changed out of your training clothes and shoved on some baggy jeans and a black turtle neck with some boots. ‘fuck okay, we’re doing this’

you grabbed a pillow and shoved it under your sheets to make it look like you’re sleeping and opened your window, your room was on the second floor so you weren't worried about the drop, you jumped down using smoke to soften your fall and you ran through the alleyways of the city.

after an hour of running you leaned against the wall of an alley and checked your phone to see 30 missed calls from your father. before leaving you made sure to turn off the tracking app and restrictions on your phone.

as you turned to run through the alley you felt eyes on you, a cold breath made the hairs on your neck jolt up, yelping slightly you jumped forward to see.. some sort of sludge monster?

‘fuck’ you breathed as it backed you against the corner, throwing your bag to the side you floated up a little with your quirk and blasted fire at it, it parted where you aimed the fire before molding back together, ‘strong, worthy of me’ it breathed and it collided with you making you scream out in pain, it was agony, it felt like it was ripping you apart inside out.

you could hear voices coming closer but you were a little preoccupied. you had an idea, you slowly created as much fire you could with your hands, the creature shrieked pushing you away as you gasped air filling your lungs again.

you noticed a circular black matter at the end of the alley where the sludge monster appeared from, before you could inspect it it shrunk until it was nothing.

the same voices you heard earlier yelled as the sludge monster slipped through the drains “she’s valuable, she defeated that monster” a man said coming closer to you, you looked at him with furrowed eyebrows “touch me and you die” you breathed standing up from the dirty alley floor. “feisty too” he chuckled.

you were outnumbered, it was 6 to 1 in a small alleyway. before the men could come any closer a voice behind them made them turn, ‘the people you wanted dead are just that, where’s my payment ’ you couldn't see his face so you attempted to look around for an escape, you noticed a drain pipe leading up to a sturdier metal one, if you could jump onto the electric box and swing your up you could make it onto the roof, you just needed to time it perfectly.

one of the men turned to keep an eye on you, “we’ll have your payment in a week” the man in the middle scoffed turning back to you, “you know that’s not good enough, the payment, now or i’ll burn you to ashes” he said with venom laced in his voice, one of the 6 men had moved to the side, you had a clear few of who they were talking to you, you felt as your face heat up at him but you shook it off.

you raised an eyebrow at him signalling to the metal bar, you weren't sure if he’d help you but he’d probably help you if it was for his benefit as well. he flicked an eye between you and the metal bar immediately smirking at your plan.

you took his smirk as a confirmation and grabbed your bag from the floor and lifted yourself up with smoke from your feet and jumped swinging yourself from the metal bar to the roof, before you could fully push yourself onto the roof you felt a hand gripping onto your leg, you tried shaking the man off only to feel blue heat take over the alley beneath you.

your eyes widened slightly as the scarred man continued burning the men below you, “stop it!” you yelled as he raised an eyebrow at you the blue flames dying down to nothing.

you sighed in relief rolling onto your back, the men scurried away, burnt but alive.

“why’d you stop me?” he asked, you supported yourself on your elbows as he climbed up onto the roof, he didn't look mad, it was a genuine question. “i don’t know maybe i didn't want to see anyone die.” you deadpanned sitting up dusting the dirt off of your clothes.

he looked at you as if you were the most confusing person in the world, you hadn't asked about his scars or flinched when you saw him, or stared at the purple marks around his face and body. he wanted to know why.

“what?, do i have something on my face” you pouted slightly running a hand through your hair. “no, just surprised” you pursed your lips as if waiting for him to say more, you stood up and grabbed the bag full of your belongings you mumbled a “thanks”.

“what was that smokey?” he smirked, a nickname, really. you rolled your eyes at his remark “you should be thanking me as well, without me you would’ve been cornered” he nodded a little at your words “hm well, what’re you doing out here”.

“ran away” you said quickly as you stared at the missed calls on your phone screen. “i need to get away from here” you added as he watched your every move as if trying to decipher you.

“well, you wanna go to hosu?” you looked up at him in disbelief, “what’s in it for you”, he looked conflicted you weren't great at reading people, its not like you had friends or anyone other than your parents around growing up.

“might change my mind” he grinned before motioning you to follow him, you cautiously followed his steps along the rooftop. “wait i don’t even know your name”. he turned around for a split second before jumping onto another roof, you did the same, “what’s yours”.

“y/n mido- just y/n” if you were really going to leave this world behind then this is where to start, leaving behind your fathers name.

“names dabi, why did you run away” he’s intriguing, besides you needed to get as far away as possible and he’s willing to help so telling him this isn't exactly a danger to you.

“my dads a dick, he’s trying to train me to become the greatest hero but if this is what it takes to have the fucking honor of being called a hero then i don’t want it. i don’t want to be controlled my whole life, or live a life i don’t want”.

“huh, sounds familiar” he joked leading you out of the alleys closer to the lit up streets of the city. you smiled at his joke before jumping down the building as he did using smoke to soften your fall again, he zipped the trench coat up around his mouth and let the hood cover his hair, his piercing blue eyes and nose were the only facial features visible, you laughed slightly at the sight making him roll is eyes at you.

you moved to peak around the corner of the alley, dabi stuck out a protective arm before peaking out as you tried to do a couple seconds before. he let his arm fall to his side again before motioning you to join him, you walked beside him.

the large lights and billboards made your eyes go wide, “what you never seen the city at night before?” he joked watching your expression stay the same, you looked like a child seeing fireworks for the first time, it was endearing yet sad. had you really been isolated like this, never even seeing something as simple as lights in the darkness.

“i told you, my dad trained me most of my life, so I've never had the luxury of seeing this, never mind at night.”

he hummed at your words as he turned another corner grabbing your arm and dragging you in at the last second making you yelp, a couple motorbikes and cars stood in a line along the small street. the man eyed each of the bikes, you watched as he grabbed a key from a pocket in his oversized trench coat and placed it into a black and blue motorbike before throwing a leg over the seat and turning a head to you. “you coming or not?”.

you grinned before jumping up into the seat.

the world blurred past you, lights buildings and people became one, it really was beautiful, your wide eyes tried to catch everything as you sped past. “where are we going!” you yelled over the noises of traffic and people. “1 day in the city, then hosu city”.

you had never felt more alive, of course you were taking a risk going somewhere you didn't know with a stranger but this was better than being trapped in a house you couldn't call home.

you gripped his waist as he sped up slightly, he probably didn't how much you hadn't seen, or how much you'd been cut off from the world you thought, in reality he knew more than anyone.

he was busy in thought as you sped past the lit buildings, he watched in the small metal mirror at your expression.

she’s the type to fall in love with everything unreachable, just like i once did.

maybe this was a bad idea, i could’ve just told them i lost her.

the sun started rising a little after you left for the centre of the city, the sunrise you knew all too well rose, sleepless nights led to you watching the sunrise on the rooftop of your house. it was lonely, being alone wasn't something you thought about often. people are disappointing is what you had been taught through experience but however much you wanted to be okay with loneliness you knew you’d find someone to change that, a friend.

“aye you still awake?”,

“mhm”, he grunted in return as you asked him about how much he’d seen of the city, the conversation went onto talk of your family.

“my mother, she was so in love with the idea of my dad that she kind of just ignored how he treated me, they were good parents at some point, but somewhere along the line that changed”

the day was the most fun you had ever had and much to his disgust you went shopping, you were taking a while “fucking hell, yeah that’s fine”, you frowned at his tone before grinning “hm ill find something better”.

“No, no that is good, yeah its great stick with that”, you laughed at his annoyance before going to pay, “i’ll pay” you shook your head a little grabbing the card you put your fathers money on.

he rolled his eyes before shoving his own card in the machine and punching in a couple numbers, you thanked him and took the bags resting them on your arms.

the day went by faster than you liked, you soon found yourself heading towards the motorbike, the black haired man followed next to you eyeing your every move.

she’s going to hate me.

you followed the road out of the city towards another, the lights slowly becoming only dim streetlights. the bright yellow lights of the city were far behind you but even within the peace something was off, you could feel the tension between you and the male, even if you were to ask its not as if he’s going to tell someone he’s known for a little over a day.

“where are we staying in hosu?” you tried to fill the tension with small talk, the man sped up a little before answering “with a couple uh friends, they’re weird”. you nodded as if he could see you, just as you were about to ask him about his ‘friends’ you felt a drop of water hit your cheek.

as the rain slowly got heavier you giggled feeling the drops slide down your face, “what’s so funny smokey” he turned slightly to look at you, you blinked the rain out of your eyes to look at him not expecting to see his bright cerulean eyes looking straight into yours, your breath hitched slightly but you didn't look away, his eyes averted back to the road again and you let out of a breath you didn't know you were holding.

he found himself somehow jealous of the fact that the rain got to touch you, your eyes lit up as you watched the lightning flash across the night sky.

he huffed in anger at himself for even feeling these things, whatever, shes gonna hate me after this anyway.

with only an hour left for hosu you felt yourself getting tired and you grabbed a monster from your bag, you opened the can shuddering a little at the cold you chugged most of the acidic down your throat before hearing the boy in front of you elbow your knee, his hand was held out for the drink, you rolled your eyes pouting slightly and handed him the drink, the rest of the sugary drink drained down his throat.

something about him intrigued him, maybe it was his mysterious nature, mystery had always drawn you in, it was fun figuring out mysteries and conspiracies, so why is he so difficult to figure out. his eyes were the most mysterious to you, his bright ocean filled eyes. they held so many stories, so many emotions you couldn't decipher.

“hey i asked you a question” you shook away your thoughts and asked dabi to repeat it he sighed shaking his head before smirking for a split second, “i asked how much you hate villains”, you furrowed your eyebrows at his question.

“i don’t hate villains.” you said simply he looked back at you as if asking you to carry on.

“its unfair how quick people are to decide the difference between heroes and villains, most heroes aren’t even good people, they're just fakes hiding behind the mask that is saving people, you hurt people in secret your whole life and then save a couple people and you’re suddenly a hero?, i don’t hate villains, i hate people who think get can choose who’s a hero and who’s a villain just from their appearance”.

he thought for a couple minutes before his lips curled into a small smile, she really gets it huh.

“i’m not stupid, i know you’re deemed a villain dabi, but you don’t seem one to me”, his smile softened a little as if you said the most meaningful words to exist, he felt his walls slowly breaking for you, worst part is he let it happen.

he turned one final corner before parking outside what looked like an abandoned warehouse, you hopped off the bike and followed the man to the door he sighed slightly, he let you go in front of him, you stopped at the door and turned around to look at him questioning his sigh.

he inched closer to you as your back pressed against the door, your eyes widened as his former comforting smile turned into a sad smile, as if he wished this could last.

your breath hitched as his face got closer, he grinned for a second his nose brushing against your own, just as you thought he was going to kiss you he pulled back slightly and lifted his hand which was clenched as if he was holding something, his hand stopped level to his mouth, he opened it and blew the powder into your face making you immediately collapse.

you didn’t expect him to save you anyway.

A/N : damn so part2? DJSF

FUN FACT : manga spoiler : when he said “ she’s the type to fall in love with everything unreachable, just like i once did.” he was talking about his desire to become the greatest hero with his quirk but because of his body is was unreachable.

taglist : @todoroki-shoto-is-life @blazedbakugou @luluwiie @blue-gold-demigod-clouds @gazelle-des-pres

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leahseclipse · 4 years ago

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Live for me (Spencer Reid x Reader) 💔

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: While working on a case, Spencer and y/n get kidnapped by the unsub. For everything to end: one has to die.

Warnings: ⚠️ THIS STORY DOES NOT HAVE A GOOD ENDING AT ALL, DON'T READ IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE THIS KIND OF TOPIC; DON'T FORGET TO GET SUPPORT AFTER READING ⚠️; death of major characters, loss of a person, grief, medication use, overdose, suicide, cursing, angst, depression, sad stuff……...

A/N: I cried as much as you are right now. I wrote a bit of it around 1am. Had to watch the unauthorized documentary of Matthew to cheer me up, and you should totally do it. Either that, or criminal minds bloopers, fun cm videos like "bau being kids", etc

Word count: 2.1k

"Hey. You're finally awake."

As you woke up, you only felt cold. You could tell by the ambiance that you weren't inside a room, but outside.

You could hear the faint sounds of cars, guessing that you could be at a high level.

"Come on, we have a game to start. You don't want to make us wait, do you?"

Us?

You looked around, realizing what he meant by 'us'.

It was him...and Spencer.

His eyes were wide open, locked in yours.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Because it's fun. Don't you like to have fun? Everyone does! That's why I gathered two lovebirds here. It'll double the fun! I'm smart, I know."

"You're nothing but an asshole. You're stupid as hell!" You yelled.

"No. I'm not."

"Your face tells me the fucking contrary!"

"Shut up. SHUT UP. YOU'RE MAKING ME WASTE TIME."

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE." You barely had time to place another word that he had punched you in the face, blood dripping out of your nose.

"Stop! Don't touch her!" Spencer yelled.

"She deserved it. She was being an annoying bitch. And I hate people like her."

"I...I'm not done." You muttered.

"Huh? What did you say?"

"I said I'm not done!"

"Done with what ? Me? Oh yeah, you're not. But soon, you'll be."

"Not until you're dead." You said.

"Unfortunately, I won't be the one who will die tonight. It'll be...one of you. One will live, one will die. Only one winner will come out of here alive, not two."

"We'll see that."

"No we won't. Not if you're dead."

"Dare touching her." Spencer said.

"Aw, your husband is so loyal. I'm gonna cry."

"You're gonna cry even more when you'll get to spend the rest of your life in prison; if someone doesn't kill you before."

"I am unstoppable honey. I'm as fast as the speed of the light. Here's the proof, I have been killing for ten years, no one found me. The only thing police had done was to send people that knew of the murders, had witnessed them, but didn't commit it. They all were sort of proud, not knowing that the real killer was still on the loose."

"The team will come. You're trapped. This is where everything ends for you."

"Nuh-uh. For you, not for me. I'm a free man, you're a soon to be dead girl, and you, a soon to be dead man."

"What a fool you're making out of yourself. You're a fucking coward, you're stupid as hell, worthless, you're so full of shit! Just shut the hell—" You spat out, as he raised his gun to your head.

"Now what, huh?"

"Now what? You want me to repeat myself?"

"Dare to do it."

"You're weak."

"Don't get me started."

"Just fucking surrender at this point, your pathetic life is ruined, you have nothing—" You couldn't even finish your sentence. You never got to.

He had shot you in front of the terrified eyes of Spencer.

You were now laying on the floor, a pool of blood growing bigger next to your head. A stray tear had fallen from your eye, the last tear you had shed.

Spencer's screams echoed, as a loud sound came from the door that had soon been opened.

The whole team was shocked at the sight of the scene. You, on the floor, possibly dead, and Spencer's eyes on you.

The guy had attempted to point his gun at Spencer to kill him as well, but then three shots were heard. Next thing everyone saw, he fell on the floor.

The last memories were a blur. Spencer only remembered the sobs of the team, arms wrapping around him, nothingness, he suddenly felt empty.

You were gone.

No.

That wasn't real.

It couldn't.

You couldn't be dead.

It wasn't possible.

It…wasn't.

--------

A week has passed since your death. He had stayed in his apartment, wrapped in a blanket. Only breathing. He wasn't doing anything and hasn't been going out since your funeral.

Part of him didn't want to come. He didn't want that to happen. But at the same time, he would have regretted it forever if he hadn't come.

He had found himself in your room, at 7AM, looking at the stuff in the drawers, until a pack of envelopes caught his attention.

He took it in his hands, before a sob escaped his lips. He had immediately recognised your handwriting.

The first letter was addressed to him.

'Spence' was written on the back.

He opened it with shaky hands, reading the two first words.

Dear Spencer,

I know it's morbid to write this kind of letter, because I'm not dying soon, or dead; but, I wanted to write this for you and the other members, in case something happens to me.

I wouldn't want to leave everyone behind without them knowing how much I loved them, you would have the right to know.

The letter for the other members of the team are also in the drawer you found yours, so please don't forget to give the letter.

If you are reading this, something happened, it means that I'm not alive anymore.

This letter is for you, the love of my life, my best friend, my colleague, my husband, first of all, I love you, I always have, and will always love you.

I want to thank you for being part of my life.

You saved my life.

A week before I met you, I planned to commit suicide. I had no family, no friends, no one to count on anymore.

Everyone had left me behind.

I don't have an eidetic memory, so I don't remember the exact hour, only the day, but I'm sure you do remember.

It was on a Sunday, 14….or 15th of June. The day I met you, was the day I planned to die. I was at the coffee shop, probably drinking the last coffee of my life.

I wasn't dressed at all in a pretty way. I think I had a hoodie and old jeans. I had picked up my order and decided to sit at a table to try to enjoy the view as I wouldn't see it anymore.

I didn't put sugar at all in my coffee. I hated black coffee, but I didn't care anymore. Even if the coffee would spill on my clothes, I wouldn't care.

Nothing mattered anymore.

And, that's when you saved my life.

The fact that the sugar was still next to the cup, unopened, apparently caught your attention.

I wish I was dressed better. I looked pathetic and horrible.

But you only saw what I didn't see anymore in me. You thought I was pretty, amazing.

I don't know how and why, we began talking, which ended with me, writing my number on your arm before leaving the shop.

That's when I decided I didn't want to die anymore, I wanted to live for you. Only you.

I can't thank you enough. You saved me. I could have died that day, and we would have never met. I would have never dated you, married you, and lived happily with you.

You made all of this possible.

Spencer, don't change. Stay the person you are. Not only you are the sun of my life, but you're the sun of everyone in the team.

Thank you for being with me.

And please, if anything happens, if I'm gone; live for me.

I love you.

Your wife, y/n.

He couldn't see you anymore.

By the time Spencer had finished reading your letter, tears were falling down his cheeks; he still couldn't believe the fact that you were gone.

He couldn't kiss you anymore.

He couldn't touch you anymore.

What would he wake up to each day? Only to an empty bed.

The only memory of you he'll have will be the pictures and the smell on your clothes. But eventually, the smell would go away, and the pictures would only remain frozen memories forever.

He would have to live without you, breathe without you, only prepare one cup of coffee instead of two, cook for only one person, leave the house without having someone to say goodbye to, come back without having someone to say hello to; his entire life was ruined.

You were his entire life, the reason he was living, breathing.

And now that you weren't here anymore, what was he supposed to do?

His life was senseless, useless without you. He couldn't live, enjoy life, while you were six feet under ground,

Dead.

It wasn't fair.

None of it was fair.

He should have died that night.

It shouldn't have been you.

He collapsed into the bed, laying down on your pillow. It still smelled like you, he had desperately tried to pretend like you were still here, but you weren't, he couldn't hear your soft breathing, feel the air on his skin, your skin in contact with his, you weren't here, you wouldn't come back.

He had wished for it to be a bad dream, he had wished for it to only be a dream, and that you would be by his side again.

But it never happened.

He had to face the reality.

You were gone forever.

He had cried himself to sleep, holding your letter and one of your coats in his hands.

Tomorrow, he'd wake up to an empty bed.

Alone.

You would not be in the bed.

He would only wake up to the sound of the stupid alarm, not your voice.

He wouldn't feel your hands on his face, in his hair, on his body.

He hadn't slept at all.

He couldn't.

You were the only solution for him to sleep. No matter what was on his mind, no matter how stressed he was, when he'd feel you by his side, he would immediately calm down.

But now, he had nothing.

The apartment was empty.

Calm.

Soundless.

Lifeless.

For him, it wasn't his home anymore, only walls and flooring.

He'd have to live there, every single item in the house reminding him of you. Every moment, every look, every breath, would remind him of you.

Everyone had tried to talk to him, and sat with him for hours. But he had only stared at the wall, with an empty look.

Technically, he was still alive, still breathing, but he was dead inside. No one recognized him anymore.

It had been a month since your death, it felt like five to him.

Every single second, minute, hour, day without you was unbearable.

If he had to live it was with you, and only you.

If you weren't there, he couldn't live.

He had no reason to.

The cold floor he was laying on had just reminded him that he was still alive.

He felt so tired.

He didn't have the strength anymore.

He didn't want to fight anymore.

Not in a world where you didn't exist.

Not without you by his side.

Life had no meaning anymore.

The colors had been drained from the world from the moment life had left your body.

He hadn't felt this kind of peace for months.

He closed his eyes, and a few minutes later,

He saw you.

You had a yellow dress on, his favorite. He called your name, and saw your beautiful eyes once again.

A sad smile was on your face, as he saw you walking towards him.

"Spencer, why are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry y/n. I'm so sorry. I tried. I couldn't live without you, it was impossible."

"Shh, shh...it's okay. You tried babe, you tried. Now you're here. That's all that matters."

"But y/n, I broke the promise. I couldn't live for you, I didn't do it."

"Spencer, it's okay. Everything will go away, everything; because I'm here now, we're together. We're not away from each other anymore. I promise everything is going to be okay."

"...promise?"

"Promise." You took his hand, smiling at him.

You turned out to be right, everything went away.

He could finally allow himself to be relieved.

Now, he could be by your side forever.

Dear y/n,

So sorry.

I wrote this letter after you died. I had to tell you everything.

I'm sorry.

I can't do it anymore, I love you too much to the point I can't live without you anymore.

I want you to know that I'm grateful for all of the moments we've spent together.

Thank you for being my girlfriend.

Thank you for marrying me.

I'm sorry we didn't live long enough to have children. I wish we could have.

I know we would have named them after the team. Garcia would have been their godmother.

You wanted to have two, I wanted three, or five, like Matt.

I wanted to have mini versions of us running in the house. But it never happened, I'm sorry.

Thank you for all of these years you've spent with me.

I have never hated to be with you one single day. I always appreciated every day by your side.

You are so beautiful, don't forget that.

I could never thank you enough.

Spence.

I love you y/n.

--------

Left letters;

To the BAU, my family;

When I wrote this, I was still alive; but if you're reading it now, I'm not alive anymore. Something might have happened.

I want everyone to know what was on my mind.

Thank you for being an amazing team.

Derek, you were the brother I never had. You always stood by my side, and you can't imagine how grateful I am. I wish you the best, Savannah and Hank are lucky to have you by their side.

Hotch, you were like 'a step father', you protected me, listened to me, I could talk freely with you. Jack is an awesome little guy, I liked babysitting him.

Rossi, you also were like a father to me. You taught me how to cook, how to be better person, I owe you everything. I also want to thank you for marrying us at our wedding.

Emily, you are everything; a mother, sister, friend, I still remember all of the nights we've spent at the bar, on the couch eating ice cream, exchanging secrets, like little girls. I always had admired you.

Matthew, Luke, you guys have also the same role to me, you were the brothers I wished for, teasing me, pulling pranks on me, cheering me up, taking care of me, worrying just when I fell off my chair or when I had a paper cut.

JJ, you are amazing. You have made two wonderful children I loved to be around, they look exactly like you (No offense Will). You also were like Emily, my whole family.

It's the same for Tara, you had always listened to me. You are a strong and amazing woman.

I'm sorry if I repeated myself, but that is mostly because you guys are all my family, I feel the exact same way about everyone.

I am sorry for everything.

Garcia;

I'm sorry I couldn't live long enough to have children. You would have been their godmother, all of them.

You would have babysat them, even when I would have been free, you would have loved them so much.

You truly are the sun.

Thank you, everyone, for being yourself. You have brought me so much joy.

Whatever happens, don't change guys. Keep enlightening other people's lives like you always did.

I love you guys.

To the team;

y/n.

I'm sorry. Every time you guys were there, you had tried your best to cheer me up; and you did, but the pain had covered everything. The pain was stronger.

The pain won over everything.

I fought.

I tried.

But y/n was my whole life, and without her, I was nothing.

I missed her, so much. So much.

I'm so sorry.

Thank you for being a wonderful team.

Spencer.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #cm #criminal minds fic #derek morgan #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #matthew gray gubler fic #matthew gray gubler

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kerwritesthings · 5 years ago

Text

South Of The Equator

Summary: Gestures of love are woven in the fabric of relationships, especially ones built around the priority of your love

Word Count: literally juuuuust shy of 5.8k

Warning: pining, love and fluff

Author Notes: Muse fell in love with this photo last week when Bre threw it out onto my dash, spit out stupid notes at midnight that night for it along with about 350ish words and then didn’t touch it until again yesterday evening where I proceeded to crank out about 5.8k in less than 24 hours. Oops?

This falls well later into the verse, like the latest I’ve taken it thus far. It just felt right to bring this into that part of the timeline with the premise and where the muse was taking this. Can be read as a standalone but diving into the verse and the masterlist would give a little bit more understanding.

It was not in the plans. Whatsoever. A whim. A lot of longing. A lot of missing connections. A lot of feeling that this was a sync you just wouldn’t be able to get. That scares the both of you, more than either of you will let on especially to the other. You both promise that this would be the longest stretch on this very last swing – something like 48 or 50 days depending on travel for both of you, that a somewhere between 12 and 14-hour plane ride at best for a long weekend made no sense. You’re in Bucharest when he starts the swing in Mexico. What was thought to be a few days off for him to come home to see you between the last Mexico show and the venture further south becomes non-existent, with surprise pop up concerts in both Costa Rica and Panama along with hoopla surrounding them on either side that the label drops last minute. You initially think you’d be able to make the last shows, but there was a potential work trip to Hong Kong hanging over your head, so you both agree not book anything.

Well, love makes you do some stupid and irresponsibly crazy things. When the Asia client pushes their timeline back, things change completely. Which is why you find yourself on the phone, trying to make arrangements while juggling 7 open browser tabs on your laptop at nearly 1am. This is what you do for each other. It’s been established. It’s been done for each other on numerous occasions throughout your relationship. But it’s never been something like this. This grand and involved.

“Up for a bit of a challenge?” you start. “What’s the actual schedule like between Buenos and Rio and Santiago?”

“Flip it around. Chile first. Then Buenos then Sao Paulo. Finish off in Rio,” Beatriz laughs. “Don’t book the wrong flight. Cause. This is where it’s going isn’t it? This bugger is so lucky to have you. He best appreciate this. He’s been whiny. More to Cez then me. Andrew too, but he trusts Cez more when it comes to you.”

“He’s not the only one,” you sigh. “Dee’s taken to sending me videos and photos of Tali every day before I call to bitch to her to try to ease my tension. We’ve done longer, when we first got together. This one though. We’re just not taking it well, either of us. It feels off. He can’t come to me, so I have to go to him.”

“There’s doubles now in Santiago, not just in Buenos and Rio. Only the one in Sao Paulo. Days off scattered through, but definitely some between the city jumps. Are you really going to try to do just a weekend down here?” she asks.

“Work remote if I can swing it. Then bank out on some time off. I’m due after the extra hours to lock in the Danish project and the haul to Bucharest for basically a 48-hour lookie loo from them with no commitments. Boss lady is great as long as my work gets done and I don’t pull the ask for ‘but my famous boyfriend’ very often, if at all,” you explain, poking away at the keys of your laptop.

“Ooh Denmark, so you going to get out for that one?” Beatriz questions. “Do you have a lam for this tour? Should we get you another?”

“I think I can, timing looks ok and I may be able to drag Shawn with me for once since it’s after all this hoopla,” you mutter, poking at Kayak and cursing. “I think I do, snag one just in case if it’s not too much trouble. It looks like Air Canada has a direct from Pearson to Santiago at 11 hours of flight time and an overnight red-eye. Bless it. No layovers. Less chance for him to even let on. Y’all can sneak me in on the flights between yeah?”

“Shawn is gonna shit you know this right?” she laughs. “I heard about your surprises you both have pulled on each other before, but this is something else. Duh girl, yes of course. He’d have you sit on his lap the whole flight if he had to, but we definitely have the room. Give me the flight info. I’ll make Cez book it. Do not even think about clicking that buy button that I know you’re hovering over.”

“Bea...” you begin.

“No, not hearing it. Cez blocked out travel budget for him to go home and you know that didn’t happen, so your flight there and then back with him at the end it is instead,” Beatriz interjects. “I’ll loop in C for sure. Maybe Andrew. Less folks who know the better, we need to keep this on lock down.”

“Beatriz, you’re the best. I owe you big time. I’m so glad you’re on this rag tag motley crew,” you thank her. “Let Cez know if he needs anything when he’s booking, if they don’t have it saved to just let me know.”

“Bottle of Bulleit and you finally spill the recipe for those kitchen sink bars the boys are always raving about and inhaling, we’ll call it even,” she deadpans. “But no really, I’m glad to help. As much as I tease that boy of yours, I’ve got a soft spot for him. We need to figure an epic reveal. It’s late. I’ll fire off a text to Cez and we’ll be on it tomorrow. Off with you. Night!”

You have a week between that call and your flight down to get all your things in order luckily. Work is understanding and accommodating, your boss practically sending out the out of office email for you after she hears your plans. He meanwhile has a few shows in Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia ahead of him within that same time frame.

“There’s that face I adore,” you smile through FaceTime as you’re tucked in bed, two nights before you’re due to leave. “Hi you. How was the show? Where are you now?”

“Just out of the shower in the hotel and about to fall face first into bed, but I needed a dose of my pretty girl before I do,” he exhales, running a hand though his mess of wet curls. “Good, crowds down here are something else. Beyond the first time I swung through, on the last tour. And them singing back in perfect English still breaks my brain a little. Tired though. Looking forward to the break. Day break here, then like a half one off in Santiago before the last few shows. It’s so crazy to think we’re there already.”

“I can’t believe it’s almost over,” you murmur. “You did it baby, an entire circle of the globe. I’m beyond proud of you.”

“As much as I love this, I’m ready for just me, you and our bed. At least for a week straight, if not a few of them,” he chuckles. “Remind me of how tired I am now when I start to say I’m twitchy or bored, ok?”

“If you say so,” you say sleepily. “Just remember, I get to drag you with me on some my work trips next. Denmark for sure. Hong Kong perhaps since that’s still a moving target. Maybe Prague. Wanna be a silly romantic tourist with you for a bit. Just me and you”

“Always me and you, sweetheart. Go get some sleep. You’ve got work in the morning,” he whispers. “We can talk more tomorrow, promise.”

“You sure?” you fight back a yawn, eyes starting to flutter. “Can you sing to me though? Please? I miss you. Be like you’re here.”

He starts humming at first, the eases into a slowed down, Shawn-esque version of Sam Smith’s Latch. You want to stay awake to hear the whole thing, but he sounds like he’s there singing it right into your ear while he’s got your back against his chest. It’s so pretty, easy and dream like that you drift off in moments. He watches you for a few minutes after he finishes the song, making sure you’re truly asleep. Plus, he just wants to feel like he’s next to you in bed.

“Goodnight and sleep well, baby,” he whispers before disconnecting from FaceTime, a small smile slipping across his lips.

“He still has no clue by the way, so you’ve done a bang-up job,” Cez explains as he rings you while you’re in the car on the way to Pearson. “You’re still running on time from what we checked so you’re good. We’ve got everything square. Bea will come snag you from the airport, you’ll have time to hit the hotel, she’ll have the extra room key for you so you can get some actual rest and then get ready. Figure we’ll grab you while he’s doing Q&A. Do you want to surprise him before the show? After?”

“During?” you laugh, leaning your head back against the headrest as the car makes its way down the 401. “Maximum effect. Con would be on my side too you know, epic footage.”

“Of course, you do,” he retorts. “I should have known. Don’t forget, I’m on your side too. I’m glad this worked. I know it’s been a long stretch. For the both of you. I’ve seen it wear on him, but he’s put up a good front minus a few nights where he ends up with me until he needs to get to sleep, just needing someone who understands to talk to.”

“I’m glad he has you, that we both have you. You are a gift, Cez, really,” you reply as the car slows to ease up to the terminal. “I’m just about to hop out. I’ll text you and Bea when I land in the morning, customs will probably take a bit to get through. Thank you again.”

“Fly safe, dear. Try to get some rest and we’ll see you tomorrow,” he responds.

Check in was easy, of course they went above and beyond on the flight. You text Cez and Bea a photo of a cookie from the lounge with your ticket telling them they did not need to and thanking them. Cez responds first.

Again, you know if he found out we flew you like in row 24 on a flight that long, he would pitch a fit. I’m not up for a Shawn fit this late into the last of the last legs of tour. Enjoy the space and the lay flat. Sunshine and that boy awaits you.

Beatriz chimes in next.

Label owes you and the pain in the arse, so enjoy it! Have one for me. I’ll be there for you tomorrow with bells on and a tea in hand. Cannot wait for this – so epic. You two are nauseatingly adorbs.

The flight wasn’t crowded thankfully and the room to stretch fully is a welcome bonus. You are able to wind down a lot easier than expected and get a decent amount of sleep especially given it was on a flight, lay flat or not. Despite an extra circle, you land only a few minutes past your initial arrival time, make it through customs quickly and thankfully your luggage is waiting for you once you’re done.

“There she is,” Beatriz calls out as you head out to the open concourse. “And in one piece too with all your bits and bobbles. Good, the boss won’t be angry. And as promised, your tea!”

“Which one?” you chuckle, snagging the iced chai before hugging her.

“I can handle Cez, your man though,” she rolls her eyes as you walk out to the sprinter van. “He tried you last night when we were coming back from dinner, couldn’t get through even though we all told him it was late. He got all sad puppy. You were just about taking off, so it made sense. If he only knew what today is bringing him. I’ll drop you at the hotel, sleep, shower, eat, do whatever. I’ll be round to grab you about 4.”

As soon as you step into his room, you are overwhelmed just by the sheer sense of being back in his space again, despite him not even being there at the moment. You drop your suitcase, strip and crawl immediately into his still unmade bed to surround yourself in the smell of him. Setting your alarm before you drift off, you curl yourself around his pillow and exhale. Only a few more hours and you’ll be able to wrap your arms around him instead of a goose down that carries whiffs of his scent. A deep breath, an inhale you hold just for a moment before letting it go carefully and you’re drifting away.

You wake shortly before the alarm and to a couple texts from Shawn.

Miss you pretty girl. Almost there.

FaceTime after the show tonight? Even just for a few, I can tuck you in from here again like the other night.

Saw this on the drive over before, couldn’t help but think of you.

It was a slightly angled photo out the car window, but it was of a park with a fountain surrounded by high bushes littered with flowers.

I wish I could press you into those blooms and kiss you. Would make such a pretty picture. Love you baby.

You will yourself not to cry. That sweet, sentimental boy of yours. You’ll have time, you need to make that happen tomorrow.

I miss you sweetheart, so much. Yes to tonight, I’d love a tuck in from you. We’re so close. Love you <3

A shower, some primping and a good battle with both your blow dryer and your travel steamer later, you’re finally ready to head out.

“He’s a lucky bastard this one,” Beatriz whistles before handing over your new credential as you slide the van door closed behind you. “Don’t you have any sisters you can send my way? Cousins?”

“Sorry Bea, only child,” you laugh, as the van pulls away. “Cousins are stateside and not your type.”

“He was happy to hear from you before. Stopped in the middle of sound check to look at his phone. Got all stupid smiley and googly eyed,” she rolls her eyes. “He’s so gone on you if it wasn’t so bloody sweet to see him so gushy, it would make me ill.”

“Just wait ‘till later. I should apologize now,” you explain.

“Why there’s no plans for post-show, dearie. We knew better,” she giggles. “Shawn’s not going to want to share.”

You can’t help but smile as you pass the park he sent you the photo of earlier, it’s prettier than his shot let on. You definitely have to go there tomorrow. From that point, it’s a windy way through the streets of Santiago to the arena.

“He should just be wrapping up,” Beatriz prattles, looking at her watch as you make your way through the bowels of the building. “Which is good, I can sneak you into Cez’s room without him sniffing about. You, he, Jake and Con still need to hash everything out yeah?”

“Kind of. It’s the fine tuning of details at this point,” you say, flipping the pass around in your hands before slipping it around your neck as you walk, still not fully grasping you’re going to see him as soon as you are. “It’s a matter of where to go in the pit during his walk up to stage where I won’t be spotted too easily, but also not be in the way of everything either. I think it’ll work, totally up to Jake though. Worse case, we’ll do it just before rally or he hits the stage. Better visuals, and Con will agree with me, but it’s Jake and Cez who have final call.”

“It’s brilliant, all of it. However, here is where I leave you for now,” Beatriz nudges you through the door into Cez’s makeshift office for the next two days. “Need to make sure the sound techs have everything. Fridge is stocked, so steal what you need. He should be back in a few. They’re due to be walking your man now. His room isn’t far, so stay put. I’ll let C know you’re here. Toodles!”

Shortly after you settle in on the couch, engrossing yourself in your inbox, you feel someone settle down next to you.

“Thank god you’re here, I cannot do the sad Shawn shit anymore,” Connor sighs, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “I love him like a brother but damn, this go has been a beast when he’s feeling it like that.”

“Hi Connor, I’ve missed you too Connor, it’s good to see you Connor,” you roll your eyes, pushing his arm off you with a poke.

“Yeah yeah, all that too,” he smiles, sliding his arm back into place and kissing your cheek. “It’s good to have you here, all that aside. Despite all that, missed you around these parts.”

“Considering Central America took away our long weekend together, with no warning. It’s just been a hard go this swing. For both of us. May just be the wear and tear of a tour this long finally hitting. Even with as much as we’ve made it a priority to stay more connected and grounded. You guys are lucky it’s the end and it didn’t happen in like the middle of Europe, or the US leg. Though that would have been easier to get to than an almost 11-hour flight,” you fight out.

“You’re too good for him you know?” he teases. “Remember, he has friends if you ever need to bail.”

“Not any of y’all that’s for sure. No way. And, it’s the other way around, Con,” you reply, poking at his knee. “So, you’ve seen the setup, what’s going to make the most sense?”

“We’re going to do whatever you want, missus,” Jake chimes in as the door shuts behind him and Cez. “Only thing I require is a hug.”

“I think that can be arranged,” you say happily, ducking around Connor to get to Jake. “Con, stop being in the way.”

“Thank you,” you murmur to Jake as he pulls you into an embrace.

“We should be thanking you,” he whispers hugging you tightly. “And seriously. We’ll make it all happen. Kid needs this as much as you do.”

You pull away, smiling. “Ok guys so here’s what I’m thinking. Let’s surprise him on the walk out.”

The details come together quickly as well as easily. You’re happy, the team is comfortable with it all. It also helps he’s not expecting a thing. Everyone’s on board.

“So,” Cez begins, rolling a bottle of water around in his hands as everyone else filters out. “Hop a flight on a whim in the states or Canada is one thing. Cross the pond, a little more effort, but doable. This is something else entirely, even for the two of you.”

“I don’t know why this one is so different; I wish I knew; believe me I do. It would have saved me an 11-hour flight,” you utter. “It’s not like we’ve not done it before. We got through this, worse even, when he went out on last leg of the last tour and I had no leverage to take time off to come out other than that last show. We were only together a little bit at that point.”

Cez smiles his all-knowing smile, looking down at your hands playing with your credential. “I think you do, somewhere in there. I think he does too, well I know he does.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask inquisitively. “We’re good, really good. Minus this blip and it’s just us being a little more emotionally wound together. More in the groove than we’ve ever been. It’s been great, actually.”

He smiles yet again, making you wonder even more, and picks up his hand pointing to a certain finger.

“No,” you shake your head.

He nods, still smiling. “You’re practically there already. We were honestly all surprised it didn’t happen before tour, or at break. Especially after Japan. I knew though not the holidays, it’s too cliché and not him, or you. He’s asked me a few things, more recently. Won’t give away more than that, but it kind of all makes sense. At least to me.”

“I just. Like. Shit Cez,” you sigh, looking down at the lam in your hands. “We’ve talked about it before, couple times. We want it, both of us. He’s it for me, and vice versa. He knows I’ll say yes. I’ve told him as much. But I’m also not that girl that needs the pretty on her hand to know where we stand in our relationship. He’s also not that overly possessive man who needs to prove he’s got me like that to the world, even in his crazy whirlwind of a life.”

“I think it’s both of you really ready for what’s next and this just all happens to be in the way right now. But, you’re here now, which not only is he going to be over the moon about, the rest of us are pretty happy as well. Not just because he’ll be in better spirits, it’s because we love you just as much too,” he states plainly. “You’re as much a part of this, a part of the family. I’m personally glad you’re here for these last few. This run’s been special, you should be here for the end of it.”

“Do not make me ruin my makeup, damnit,” you half laugh, half bite back a sob. “I’m so glad he has you, not just on the road, but in general. I know how much he loves you. I do, too.”

His phone pings rapidly.

“Ten-minute warning for fetching him. Let’s go get you out and set. Phil’s on you until Jake walks out with Shawn,” he states, reaching for his headset in one hand, for you with his other.

You carefully walk down the back hallway towards the stage together. Jake and Phil meet you at the back corner of the build out. Jake hands you off a fresh pair of earplugs.

“You’re going to need these,” he reminds you. “It’s his usual walk, so he won’t expect a thing. Especially seeing Phil at that junction of the barricade, once Phil gets the signal from me that we’re going, he’ll shift behind you so Shawn can spot you.”

You throw him a thumbs up as you wedge the plugs into place. Phil takes your arm in his, his other hand patting your forearm.

“Let’s go surprise him,” he says, leading you out to the pit.

For some reason, probably your conversation with Cez if you’re being honest with yourself, has your stomach set off with butterflies. You’ve not been like this since the early days of your relationship. Excited, always. Happy, without a doubt. Nervous though? No. You try to not shift about, instead closing your eyes to take in the moment. The crowd is loud, you can smell the remnants of the smoke machine test earlier lingering in the air.

Phil taps your shoulder, sliding you into place in front of him.

“He’s walking,” he mouths with a wink.

The house lights come down and the stage lights start to just warm. You exhale and lean back onto Phil slightly, whose hands come to rest comfortably on your shoulders. The opening video starts to roll and the lights hit the pit walk so you know you’ve got about 30 seconds at best before he comes into view. Phil pushes you forward just a touch just as you spot Jake and Shawn with Connor shuffling just behind to get the right angle for the surprise.

He’s in his pre-show zone, not taking in much around him. Jake nudges him though and his eyes shoot up. Shawn looks over towards you, taking a moment for things to register, and when it does his smile is as bright as you’ve seen. His eyes grow wide, he turns to Jake, who nods with a grin and then Shawn takes off in a sprint.

“Surprise!” you try to scream, but he’s already got you in his hold lifting you to swing you around.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming, please,” he utters in your ear before pulling you closer, finally getting you back on your feet.

You slide your hands from his shoulders, one to the nape of his neck fingering the wispy curls there, the other to nudge his one in-ear out.

“Not a dream, baby. Very much here, very much real. You got me for the rest of the run, love,” you say directly into his ear. “Go be my Rockstar. I’ll watch side stage, be there waiting for you after the show.”

You pop his in-ear back into place then cup his cheek, watching his eyes roll back slightly.

“I love you so damn much,” he yells before kissing you soundly. “I am so lucky you’re mine.”

Shawn rubs his nose against yours before sneaking in another kiss, then runs up to the stage with Jake on his heels. Jake winks as he passes, throwing a double thumbs up before Phil takes you towards the back staircase so you can set up on the rolling case you know is waiting for you.

The show is electric as always, but he’s got a special energy tonight. You can’t help but feel a bit happy as to probably being the reason why. He’s smiling, sweaty and disheveled, running back towards you in the break before the encore.

“You’re a mess,” you quip with a smile, handing him a bottle of water and a towel.

“Never minded that before,” he retorts back, running a hand through the mess of his hair after wiping his face down with the towel.

“Not the place Shawn Peter,” you say, shooing him away. “Go finish, I’m not going anywhere.”

He drops the water bottle down on the case next to you, stealing another kiss before bopping his way back out.

You hop off the case and head out towards the curtain line to get a better view. His encore covers have been something else this tour. He’s been leaning hard into Tom Petty’s Free Fallin’ and it’s a stunner, especially just him and the piano.

“I had a surprise tonight delivered to me just before the show, a really amazing one actually,” he begins as he settles into playing the piano. “So, if you all don’t mind, I’m going to play something a little special before I get into my last two songs.”

Once he hits the first few chords, your jaw drops immediately.

“You lift my heart up when the rest of me is down. You, you enchant me, even when you're not around. If there are boundaries, I will try to knock them down. I'm latching on babe now I know what I have found,” he sings and you can’t help but inch closer to the edge as far as you can go without being spotted or seen. “I feel we're close enough, I wanna lock in your love. I think we're close enough, could I lock in your love, baby? Now I got you in my space, I won't let go of you. Got you shackled in my embrace; I'm latching on to you.”

You didn’t expect this the other night, so you very much don’t expect it tonight. You can’t do anything but watch him, enamored and amazed. He sounds breathtaking. The whole song just gives you goosebumps, especially in a setting like this. Damn this boy.

“Thanks for indulging me tonight, Santiago,” he says and you can see the flush spreading across his cheeks, even from there. He immediately segues into Free Fallin’ to get his encore moving, before finishing completely with If I Can’t Have You.

He’s got a hold of your hands the moment he’s out of sight of the audience.

“Did you like it?” he asks, dipping his head down to kiss you, feather soft.

“Love it, love you,” you reply, dusting kisses across his knuckles. “Come on, let’s get you back there before they start to think we’re defiling a case on the stage.”

He chuckles, tangling his fingers deeper with yours before leading you towards his dressing room. As you hit the main hallway, most of the band and the crew are waiting there and start whooping and clapping the moment the two of you come into view.

“What the hell?” you question, as he holds your hand tighter trying to make your way down the hall. He shakes his head, cheeks pink as he bites his bottom lip.

“Hold up,” Jake stops you both just before the doorway to his room, arms crossing against his chest and a shit eating grin spread across his face. “Believe you owe this lady a thank you.”

“Hello, the song, on stage, the encore? In front of the whole damn audience,” he retorts, running his free hand through his curls before tugging you towards him and the door without getting you covered in post-show sweat. “Now I’d like to shower, get the heck out of here so I can spend some time with her. Without an audience.”

You can hear the snickers and wolf whistles, it’s your turn to flush. Jake shakes his head no.

“You know what you assholes, fine,” Shawn sighs before rolling his eyes.

“Don’t even with me kid,” Jake smirks.

“I know what you’re…” he trails off but tugs your hand, so you stand closer to him. “Shit. C’mere baby.”

The next thing you know he’s cupping your neck and kissing the breath straight out of you. Your hands fly up, one gripping his shoulder the other tangling in his hair. He pulls away first, just as breathless as you’re feeling.

“You all happy now? Can I please get into my room?” he asks.

Jake moves aside, patting him on the shoulder. He snatches your hand and tugs you into the room, shutting and locking the door behind you both.

“Do I even want to know?” you say, leaning back against the door as he toes off his boots.

“Grander the gesture, bigger the thank you,” he replies, stripping off his button down next, his tank and jeans follow. “They like to tease, you know this. Especially when you and I start getting the way we do. It’s all in good fun, but not when you pull the most epic surprise and I’ve run through a whole damn show. I haven’t seen you in how long and I still haven’t really held you or loved on you the way I want to.”

“Then you best go shower, sweetheart,” you tease. “You know feeling is mutual.”

He darts over to kiss you again, “Be right back.”

He’s quick, which you appreciate, and even more that he’s just in a pair of threadbare, low slung navy sweats when he heads back out to you. He drops the towel in his hand to snag yours, pulling you towards the couch. He flops down first and pulls you immediately down on top of him. He kisses your forehead before scooting you down so your head can rest comfortably on his shoulder. He smells fresh, clean, warm, like him and like home.

“Hi baby,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you slowly and thoroughly. “Fuck, how I missed you. I can’t believe you’re here. I’m so damn happy that you’re here. You’re amazing you know that? How did you pull this off?”

“Once Hong Kong pushed timeline, I had a little wiggle room, but I wouldn’t be sure until Denmark signed off,” you explain, finger carefully tracing back and forth against his collarbone and shoulder. “I didn’t want to get either of our hopes up, so I didn’t say anything. Then like a week and a half ago? That night we just couldn’t get timing together I think you were in Panama still. I was up and cranky at stupid o’clock, said screw it. I knew I had some comp time due, had a little vacation time left, plus after Bucharest debacle on their part, they kind of owe me to boot. Called Bea, looped in Cez and voila.”

“You’re making it harder to even come remotely close to do for you what you do for me,” he presses his lips against your hair. “I’m so grateful for you.”

“There’s not a tally, sweetheart. We do for each other, you know this,” you remind him. “You and me, always right?”

There’s a knock on the door and jingling of keys, you go to move but Shawn holds you to him.

“Just gonna be C, we’re not doing anything. You stay put,” he wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles your ear.

“Sorry kids, time to get a move on,” Cez calls out from the doorway. “Can I come in? Are you at least PG?”

“It’s cuddling man, that’s all,” Shawn barks out with a laugh as you bury your head into his neck.

“You’ve got about 10 minutes to get yourselves together before the sprinter gets here,” he reminds you both. “We’ve got a curfew in the building overall, so we can’t be late on this one.”

“I’ll make sure he’s ready,” you reply, trying to wiggle out of his hold. “Let’s go, you. Need to get your stuff together. Can’t be late.”

“Listen to your girl, Shawn,” Cez remarks. “She’s right. Plus, you’ll be free of us and interruptions once you’re back at the hotel. Late call tomorrow since we’re already set here. I’m leaving the door unlocked and open so no funny bunny ok?”

“Thanks, Cez. See you in a few,” you say, trying to nudge at Shawn.

“You know that means we can go to that park in the morning,” you whisper, kissing his chin once Cez is back out in the hallway. “Upsy daisy dear.”

He sighs dramatically, but with a smile, “Only if you promise a little morning love, breakfast in bed and that park in the morning.”

“You drive such a hard bargain,” you giggle. “It’s a deal.”

He kisses you quickly and loudly before sitting up with you still in his hold, “I can’t wait to get you alone alone tonight.”

“Which would be sooner if you got a move on,” you roll your eyes, poking at his chest while his hands palm you ass.

He stops for a moment though, looks at you softly while not taking his eyes off of you.

“Love you pretty girl,” he declares, hand pushing stray strands of your hair away from your cheek, before holding it in his palm.

“Love you too, Shawn.”

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes stories #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fluff

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cruddyborderlandstheories · 4 years ago

Text

THE SEEIN’ DEAD MOD IS A BAND-AID FIX

gearbox locked zane’s lazy fix behind a paywall

tl;dr: for the love of god, the seein’ dead class mod should be what the seein’ red capstone is and vice versa. also. MORE SYNERGY. also i redesigned all of Zane’s trees and augments for more synergy you’re welcome.

is 1am and i don’t want tomorrow and im angry and thinking about borderlands so this seems like the perfect time to immerse myself in remaking Zane’s skill trees (for the 5th time). mainly because some of zane’s skills are still irking me and i’ve written extensive essays for the bl3 subreddit about the seein’ dead class mod and just playing around with zane’s skills in general, but i don’t think i’ve ever posted here before about it. so here we are. i notice i usually save lore/theories/characterizations for this blog and meta/balancing/gear talk for reddit. not sure why that’s a split for me.

now i’ve remade zane’s skills a number of times, but honestly this was all before the seein’ dead mod was released. then, instead of fixing his skill trees, i wrote a lot of essays about why that mod was a terrible bad decision on gearbox’s part (you can read one of the shorter arguments in a comment from 5 months ago here). I’m just gonna remake the skill trees now with all his current abilities in mind.this post really should be titled: ALL THE PROBLEMS WITH THEIR BALANCING DECISIONS

so imma just talk for a bit about why i love/hate the seein’ dead class mod.

Obviously it’s a god tier mod, and you see almost no zane builds without it, and no top tier, can solo m10 true takedown builds without it (unless ur like, the 1% of masochistic players, in which case i salute you). and while that obviously means its a good mod, it also shows the problems with all his other class mods and his skill trees in general.

They all kinda suck. and that wouldn’t be a problem, bc, hey, the seein’ dead mod is ez to get, just pop on over to the casino and kill a few baddies and they’ll drop like candy. Which is really awesome!

slight problem.

the dlc is locked behind a PAYWALL

now this is a problem because if zane was a top tier character BEFORE the dlc, and everything was hunky dory and people weren’t on their knees begging for gearbox to fix Zane, then him getting a new badass class mod wouldn’t be such a big deal. but the problem was this was gearbox’s solution to giving Zane a buff.

they literally locked a buff for a character behind a pay wall.

I recommend Zane is every single person I try to convince to play bl3, but i always have to add this like, commercial-esque asterisk. you know, terms and conditions or, side effects or whatever. *you probably want to get the seein’ dead mod if you’re looking at end-game play because unless you wanna struggle that’s his only viable play style.

what if they don’t want to buy the dlc?! for real...

There’s also the point that this class mod makes his (arguably) BEST capstone obsolete. so we have distributed denial which literally no one uses because its broken, double barrel which is always traded for seein’ red or more points in other skills, and seein’ red, WHICH WAS MADE USELESS BY THIS CLASS MOD

gsfdhjikdhgdaskjfhgaskdfjh

okay and it wouldn’t even be so bad

IF THEY DIDN’T CHANGE HIS ENTIRE SKILL SET BEFORE RELEASE

like they lowered ALL his kill skills, then they turned Seein’ Red into his capstone instead of Death Follows Close, meaning they nerfed Death Follows Close so it could fit as just a game changer. my poor boy was g u t t e d.

so, imagine this, everyone is reaching the end-game content of bl3. it’s a month or 2 weeks or whatever after the game dropped and people are finally hitting level 50. and moze/fl4k/amara are all killin’ it, and the zane players have to work their ASSES off to do like... 50% of that damage output (now, they did also eventually nerf the crap outta moze and fl4k but the point stands).

so instead of gearbox going: “oh... shit that pre-release nerf was an awful idea, revert the changes guys” they decided to keep him gutted and then they released what was, in my opinion, a kick in the nuts with the maliwan takedown (aka the antifreeze mod, alongside the spiritual driver) ahahahahahaha. what good times it was. (I say this sarcastically.)

man i remember people were soooo livid with that class mod release. well, both of them. zane mains were pissed off (for good reason). “yes, let’s make the people who are begging for a straight damage increase jump through MORE hoops (LITERALLY) for a pitiful amount of damage. oh, also, let’s give their 28 skill point build to the strongest character in the game for free and also make it 10x better”. because it was 10x better than violent momentum (driver didn’t have a damage cap) until they fixed both the spiritual driver and the violent momentum skill. it was the worst of times.

i will note here they did, around this time, let zane have stackable kill skills, but it was only 2 stacks and also it was still *incredibly* difficult to achieve stacks because zane just. struggled to kill anything. I still remember when i grinded the shit outta an antifreeze class mod and it took me over 20 minutes to kill Wotan my first time solo on m4. Not the fight UP to wotan. literally. just killing wotan.

then the seein’ dead mod dropped and i had. a fuckin. 15 minute decrease to my time on killing wotan (5 minutes!!!!). now i am not perfect, and i 100% believe i could’ve lowered the time even more. but that... that shows a VERY CLEAR problem.

they never actually fixed zane, they gave him a class mod that’s stupid OP just to make sure he could hang on next to the other Vault Hunters. it’s just a bandaid fix. you remove the class mod, and he’s back to pre-jackpot power levels (which will NOT hold up at m10, let me tell you).

all his pre-jackpot problems are still here, and that’s why people are not using any other class mod of his. I bet we could have some really fun builds with the conductor mod! but nobody will ever use it because it’s just... not even close to the seein’ dead mod.

So what does the seein’ dead mod do that makes Zane so good?

IT BRINGS HIM BACK TO PRE-RELEASE VALUES

this mod, plus Death Follows Close, brings Zane back to pre-release zane. and i don’t understand how gearbox isn’t putting two and two together and going “Oh.”

it also is a BETTER VERSION of Seein’ Red!!! something players could have had at, like, level 15, but instead had to wait until they hit a capstone! the capstone is completely obsolete at this point. There is nothing seein’ red can give you that seein’ dead doesn’t do but better. Getting that capstone is a w a s t e of skill points.

AND they locked this fix behind a pay wall!!! i cannot say that enough. you don’t wanna get the handsome jackpot dlc?? guess u don’t wanna play zane at endgame then. too bad, so sad.

have i stated that enough? because it still blows my fuckin mind. THEY LOCKED A CHARACTER FIX BEHIND A PAYWALL

djhdgakjhakjdah. imagine playing without any prior knowledge and being like, aw man i love this zane character. can’t wait to get to max mayhem end game like all my favorite youtubers and friends!! then finding out you gotta drop 15 bucks or whatever it is just to actually be able to play at max mayhem level. that is not a skill difference, that is A BALANCING PROBLEM MY DUDES. like. my favorite zer0 build was still viable without the story DLCs. obviously grog > rubi, pimp > lyuda, rapier > law but, it was still fuckin viable.

guh. gufhgufhsdgkfjsdh. it bothers me.

ok so there’s a lot i just went over: my main issue? is that by making Seein’ Red a capstone, they did nothing to make it an actual legit capstone. They definitely nerfed Death Followed Close to make it a gamechanger, but they never gave Seein’ Red a buff to move it from a gamechanger to a capstone. It was the same exact skill. Seein’ Dead is what Seein’ Red SHOULD be and that’s what angers the crap outta me. they locked this obvious fix behind a pay wall (AND a gear slot!!!!!) n ur probably thinking ‘but cruddy this WAS really nice of them to try and fix zane... they could’ve just let him be suuc’ and like, yeah, they could’ve, and it is good they’re TRYING, but also, they’re leaving the people who DON’T buy the DLC high and dry.

keep in mind i DO own the dlc. have the season pass and everything. IM STILL MAD!!!

Zane should be strong no matter what class mod the players want to use. Same with Amara, same with Moze, same with Fl4k. FFS, it is not that hard. CHANGE THEIR SKILLS!!!!!

so im gonna be taking the time to go over all of zane’s skills and shit just to put him more on par with the others (WITHOUT THE SEEIN’ DEAD MOD)

imagine the seein’ dead mod doesn’t exist for this. we’re gonna make a balanced character since apparently THAT’S TOO HARD FOR A TRIPLE-A BALANCING TEAM

first things first, the tree with the most fuckin problems:

Under Cover

oh god this tree is a fucking train wreck what the hell were they thinking. good god. my eyes. they’re burning.

not actually, but it still kinda sucks.

Action Skill: Barrier is fine. I would not add the ‘picking it up decreases benefits’ when Zane’s whole schtick is running around fast. You get the full bonus no matter what form it’s in. also, you can hold down the action skill activation button to deploy the barrier directly on yourself.

Tier 1: Hearty Stock is a trap. never get this. so dumb. no synergy with his other skills. Adrenaline is okay, but not really great during end game. Ready For Action is similarly okay. Just a very MEH start to this tree.

Adrenaline: Zane gains increased Action Skill Cooldown Rate. 10% per level, up to 50%. this shouldn’t be tied to his shields being full because if your barrier is down (cooling DOWN)... your shield is taking damage. c’mon now. THINK GEARBOX T H I N K

Hearty Stock: (maxed) Zane and his clone gain 5% magazine regeneration while an action skill is active. This skill stacks. In it’s original state, this skill is such a trap skill. for real.

Ready For Action: i mean, it’s fine. We’ll keep it. +30% shield recharge rate and -29% (why????) recharge delay

Tier 2: ech. Stiff Upper Lip is not that good. Brain freeze is what u really want. Rise to the Occasion is also okay.

Brain Freeze: keep the same.

Stiff Upper Lip: when Zane is damaged with a hit that would break his shield, he gains (max) +20% bonus gun damage on his next shot through the barrier.

Rise to the Occasion: Zane and his clone gain health regeneration. +5% max health/s. Not determined by shield availability.

Tier 3: `screams in confident competence` oh lawd. this skill is good. the accuracy thing is kinda laughable. i tell you, i always thought that zane was originally meant to be the sniper with the Under Cover tree but they decided to swap Zane and Fl4k’s skills. which is why Zane has soooo many accuracy buffs.

Confident Competence: fine the way it is. I would also add, since this IS a game changer, that the Barrier’s damage amp is now 40%.

Tier 4: ew. tier 4. Really Expensive Jacket is literally the only skill you might want to get and EVEN THEN. ugh. Best Served Cold is so pointless. and so is Futility Belt. YOU TAKE MORE DAMAGE WITH IT

Really Expensive Jacket: Elemental Status Effects have reduced duration (-50%). Additionally, Zane is not slowed by Cryo anymore.

Best Served Cold: Remove the cooldown. Buff up the damage at least 200%. Make it an AOE Brain Freeze. That is, the cryo novas stack and if overkill damage is high enough, enemies hit with the novas freeze. Kinda like a discount Frozen Heart.

Futility Belt: HA. Ahahahahaha. Ha. Zane gains resistance to non-elemental and cryo damage (+15%). Futhermore, after killing an enemy, Zane’s barrier gains additional cryo damage (+20%) for 8s.

Tier 5: is oki. My only real complaint is with Nerves of Steel. Like. Seriously.

Refreshment: god tier skill actually. Keep the same.

Best Served Cold: also keep the same. The only change I will make is this: resetting your action skills’ cooldowns counts as action skill start and end.

Nerves of Steel: The longer Zane’s barrier is active, the more stacks of Nerves of Steel he gains (a maximum of 15). For each stack, Zane gains 2% shock damage, 2% cryo efficiency, and 1% damage to frozen enemies. (why shock damage? cryo doesn’t do well against shields.)

Tier 6: *cries in the worst capstone in the entire series* WHO DID THIS. WHY. WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU???

Distributed Denial: no. just. no. scrap this whole damn thing. IT DOESN’T EVEN WORK!!!! either fix it COMPLETELY or do something else. My recommendation? Whenever Zane throws down his barrier, his shield instantly begins recharging. If Zane’s shield is already full or recharging, enemies with no shields (or freeze immunity) that touch Zane’s Barrier for the next 10s are instantly frozen.

Augments: why the hell do i gotta place my barrier down when my entire fuckin’ character is about RUNNING. ALSO JUST AS A BLANKET STATEMENT: ALL THESE AUGMENTS WORK 100% EVEN IF HIS BARRIER IS PICKED UP. SO DUMB. a fully pointless restriction.

that last sentence immediately fixes Charged Relay and Nanites or Some Shite.

Redistribution: If his shields are full, Zane can sacrifice 50% of his shields to have his next shot deal 100% bonus cryo damage by holding F.

All-Rounder: Fine as is. Only thing I would add: whenever Zane melees an enemy, his shields are drained by 50% and his sliding augment is added to the melee attack.

Deterrence Field: Fine as is. But! I would add: whenever Zane sprints into an enemy, his shields are drained by 50% and slam augment is activated.

THAT WAY we can have both slam/sliding relics actually DO SOMETHING. because my god they’re so useless rn.

alright, moving on.

Hitman

Tier 1: is okay. nobody ever takes cold bore. ever.

Violent Speed: fine as is, but we’re taking it back to pre-release values. Max: 30%. can stack 2x.

Cold Bore: Zane gains (max) 20% bonus cryo damage to all shots fired while moving.

Violent Momentum: fine as is, but taking it back to pre-release values. 30% gun damage at default walk speed. Additionally, Zane can now shoot while sprinting.

Tier 2: my boy zoomer needs more fun.

Cool Hand: fine as it is. I would buff his base reload speed up to 20% and kill skill reload to 20% as well. 17 and 13 are such weird numbers.

Drone Delivery: fine as it is. Additionally, Zoomer’s base shots now take on the element of Zane’s grenade mod.

Salvation: fine as it is. I won’t mess with this bc life steal is messy business (coughs in grog)

Tier 3: hhhynf.fdsg.

Death Follows Close: Kill Skill Bonus: +30%. Kill Skill Time: +7s. Additionally, enemies targeted by Zoomer take 5% more damage from Zane.

Tier 4: these two skills are actually p dope by themselves. it can stay as it is. I would MAYBE increase the violent violence max buff up to 20% but that’s just me.

Tier 5: ahahahaha. this skill. just remember, we’re pretending Seein’ Dead doesn’t exist, so imagine how this skill looks next to calm cool n collected. so pointless.

Good Misfortune: Killing an enemy with a critical hit adds (max) 10% efficiency to Zane’s kill skills for 8s. This does not stack.

Tier 6: WE’RE GONNA MAKE YOU RELEVANT AGAIN BOO HANG IN THERE

Seein’ Red: Zane has a (4%) chance to activate his kill skills upon dealing gun damage to an enemy. Additionally, enemies targeted by Zoomer now take 15% more damage from Zane.

so why didn’t we make good misfortune the infinite action skill build?? BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT CCnC IS SUPPOSED TO DO!!! why have 2 skills that do the exact same thing AT THE EXACT SAME TIER except ONE IS OBJECTIVELY WORSE!!!!!

what happens to the Seein’ Dead class mod if we’re giving its perk to this capstone? I’m so glad you asked. “Zane activates his kill skills when activating his action skills. Additionally, the kill skills activated this way have 15% more efficiency”. look how much better balanced that is!!!! that’s a class mod!!!!!!!!

Augments: these aren’t THAT bad, but they could be a lot better.

Winter’s Drone: Zoomer gains 20% bonus cryo damage to all shots.

Bad Dose: pump these numbers up. Fire Rate: +7% per affected enemy. Movement Speed: +10% per enemy. everything else is fine.

Boomsday: just make this more beefy. fr. It’d be a good choice if it were stronger.

Static Field: also fine. I would again give it better damage output, but that’s just me.

Almighty Ordnance: remove the build up honestly. Like i get the vibe and it’s really cool, but in combat it just DOESN’T WORK. maybe if Zoomer is targeting an enemy, he will unleash the missiles if they are above 50% health after 30s or something. I honestly think these should have a debuffing factor instead of a damage factor (you know, to not get in the way of boomsday). maybe something around 15%? the 1x per action skill activation thing would be easily subverted with CCnC with the changes we suggested, so it could work.

Doubled Agent

ahhh, Blane. Blue Zane. Love ya, buddy. One change: he prioritizes pinged targets. That way you can kinda get him to fight specific people. Also, lower the teleportation timer. pls.

Tier 1: actually p good. could be better, but its not bad.

Synchronicity: Zane gains 20% bonus damage per active action skill. While Zane has an action skill active, he gains a stack of Synchronicity. Max Stacks: 10. For each stack of Synchronicity, Zane gains 5% Action Skill Cooldown Rate and 2% Action Skill Damage.

Praemunitus: Zane and his digiclone gain (max) 30% magazine size.

Borrowed Time: For each action skill active, Zane gains 30% action skill duration. The longer Zane’s action skills are active, he and Blane gain a higher Fire Rate and faster Reload Speed, up to 20%. (the idea is you choose between this or synchronicity bc... either permanent action skills build or fast paced action skills build)

Tier 2: Donnybrook is fun. Fractal Frags is fun. Duct tape mod is a GODDAMN DISAPPOINTMENT

Donnybrook: fine as it is. I might buff the max numbers up to 20% gun damage and 3% health regen. But that’s really it.

Fractal Frags: Blane will periodically toss a grenade from Zane’s stockpile at his targeted enemy (cooldown: 20s). Kill Skill: Blane has a 45% chance to throw a free grenade.

Duct Tape Mod: this skill... why... No cooldown. NONE. Zane has a 1% chance to also fire a grenade from his gun. Kill Skill: This is increased to 15% for 8s (stays at 1% for the whole time, but the kill skill will increase by 3% for each tier)

Tier 3: Actually Quick Breather is one of my favorite skills. this can stay.

Quick Breather: Same as is. Additionally, Zane and his clone gain 25% Gun Damage after swapping places for a short time (8s). I really wanna promote swapping places. It’s really underutilized. they’ve ADDED stuff to this skill already!!! even tho it didn’t work until the next patch. BUT THEY SHOW ITS POSSIBLE TO ADD TO SKILLS!!!

Tier 4: actually a really good tier. a few minor changes.

Pocket Full of Grenades: Kill Skill: Zane gains (max) 15% grenade regeneration for 8s. If Zane’s grenades are full, any excess grenades are shot from his gun with 25% bonus damage.

Old-U: If Zane falls into FFYL while his digiclone is active, he can press the action skill activation key to destroy his clone and gain a second wind. When he does this, he takes the place of his clone. His clone will also drop a grenade when it is destroyed.

Supersonic Man: Zane gains increased movement speed for each active action skill: (max) 15% each. Additionally, teleportation is considered to be Zane’s maximum speed for its duration and 5s after.

Tier 5: oh god oh fuck oh god.

Like a Ghost: Oh god why. Zane and his digiclone gain a (max) 15% chance to ignore all damage while teleporting and for 7s after.

Boom. Enhance: actually a pretty swell skill. I would probably add Health Regen +3% per grenade tho. Blane needs help a lot.

Trick of the Light: bring back the shock damage. Zane deals 40% bonus shock damage for 7s after swapping places with his clone.

Tier 6: oh ngl I actually love this capstone lol

Double Barrel: Zane’s digiclone gains a copy of Zane’s current gun when it is deployed (and all the anointments work and he actually fires it like a reasonable person). Zane’s clone now deals damage equal to Zane’s base weapon damage. Upon swapping places, both Zane and his digiclone deal 50% bonus damage for 7s.

Augments:

Binary System: is okay. Kinda uhhh underwhelming tho. Buff up the damage and also maybe reduce teleportation time.

Schadenfreude: I like this one a lot. Zane’s shield is restored by 100% of the damage his digiclone takes and vice versa.

Dopplebanger: lower the waiting time. I get that u don’t wanna override the teleportation, but it’s really annoying. Buff damage and don’t make it dependent on action skill duration. If this explosion kills an enemy, the clone is reactivated with 50% action skill duration.

Which One’s Real?: I’ve never actually felt this work. Maybe for like 2 seconds? Make it work more like Zer0′s hologram or Timmy’s Jack clones or smth. Maybe give an activation cue? im v lost with this one. Enemies targeting Zane take 30% more damage from the digiclone.

Digital Distribution: 75% of the health damage Zane takes is distributed to his clone instead. The digiclone gains 5% Health Regeneration/s and sends out 3 [level specific damage] shock spikes to enemies that attack it.

literally all Zane needs is SYNERGY. if they can change a few skills, pump up a few numbers, and ffs fix the seein’ red/dead capstone/mod, they’d be in FUCKIN BUSINESS

but no instead

THEY LOCKED THE BUFF BEHIND A PAYWALL.

WHYYYYYY

#>:(#borderlands #im not redirecting my anger im legitimately angrey about this wat u mean #bl3 #zane flynt #but actually this is such a frustrating thing to deal with

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gumnut-logic · 5 years ago

Text

Doesn’t even have a title yet

Tried to finish tonight, but it is 1am and I have work today. It will only be a two parter, I don’t have much left to write, so should be complete tomorrow. It is a IRRelief fic as well. Based about two years after Their Island, though it is standalone. I haven’t even reread, so could be full of errors. I so wanted to get it done, but damnit. More tomorrow hopefully. 2553 words of over 3300 already written, fluff and humour, hopefully, brothers and a little angst.

-o-o-o-

It started off as a mild annoyance.

Scott had fallen asleep at his father’s desk. Too much paperwork, most of which he was learning on the fly. Board members doubting his ability to take over from his father and juggle International Rescue. Virgil would kick his ass if he found out. John probably already knew.

Both elder brothers were doing their best to help. Virgil was taking on as much International Rescue as was humanly possible. John was juggling Tracy Industries almost as much as Scott while handling day-to-day IR.

His father’s shoes were massive to fill.

And he left a gaping hole in Scott’s heart.

Waking up with an imprint of his own knuckles on the side of his face and a massive crick in his neck wasn’t the best. Staring at the glow of the twelve reports still awaiting review did nothing to improve his mood.

Briefly wondering how he had managed to sleep what appeared to be at least an hour with no disturbance, he remembered that Virgil was still on the other side of the planet, John was likely busy with that same situation and the two youngest were in bed. Grandma had returned to Kansas to finalise some of Dad’s personal matters.

Scott groaned and let his head fall onto his arms again.

He was so tired.

Something tickled his neck.

Absently, he swiped at it and ended up hitting himself in the head.

A few things between his ears rattled loose.

The tickle climbed down his spine and found his ribcage.

Scott’s eyes widened and he jumped out of the chair, sending it spinning across the floor.

What the-?

It was under his shirt.

There followed a most undignified, full-bodied dance across the comms room as he attempted to get whatever it was out of his shirt.

It didn’t hurt, but it tickled like crazy. He was caught between screaming and uncontrolled giggling.

In the end, he resorted to ripping his shirt off and flinging it across the room.

The tickling stopped.

And was replaced with goose pimples as the pre-dawn breeze wafted across his skin. Scott found himself bare chested and breathing heavily.

He wasn’t afraid of bugs, but that was…strange. He eyed his shirt as if it was going to jump up and bite him.

Of course, that was the moment Gordon wandered through on his way to his morning training. The fish stood at the top of the stairs for a full ten seconds staring at his topless eldest brother standing in the middle of the room, lit only by the blue light of holo-projector on the desk.

“Interesting look there, Scott.”

Scott spared him a glare before grabbing the shirt off the floor. “Lights.”

The comms room lit up. Scott drew some satisfaction as Gordon cringed from the sudden brightness. Fortunately, the little fish scuttled off to his pool and left Scott alone without another annoying word.

There was no bug in or on his shirt. After examining it, he had no choice but to throw it back on, or continue to invite comments from the waking peanut gallery.

The sudden appearance of John on the central projector and the distant roar of the return of Thunderbird Two flicked all thoughts of bugs from his mind as the new day started even before the sun made an appearance.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was exhausted but he didn’t have time to sleep. He did give himself a few moments to sit in the kitchen, worship his bucket of coffee and stare out at Mateo as the sun rose over it. It was only blinding if he focussed on it and he didn’t have the energy to do that.

Two needed repair and she needed it now.

His last rescue had involved a volcano and she had far too many particulates in her filters. They would all need replacing before he felt comfortable taking her out again.

After that he needed to see to Alan and help him set up for the morning’s classes. He quite enjoyed helping his littlest brother, but he enjoyed it much more when he hadn’t been up all night.

But first coffee.

So warm. So inviting.

He closed his eyes as sipped the blessed liquid that was going to give him the energy to get through the rest of the day.

He nearly dropped the mug as something tickled him under his upraised arm.

He saved the mug, but didn’t manage to stifle the high-pitched squawk.

The coffee was deposited carefully, but Virgil was out of his seat and grabbing at his clothing in an energetic frenzy.

There may have been one or two more high pitched squeaks as red flannel was rubbed and scrubbed at frantically.

Out of desperation, Virgil tore off both his shirt and his grey undershirt and threw them on the floor. He resisted the urge to stamp on them.

It was his favourite shirt.

“Virg?”

He looked up to find Gordon, fresh from the pool, standing in the doorway staring at him.

“You okay?”

If Virgil flushed red, he wasn’t going to acknowledge it. “Bug in my shirt.”

“Really.”

“Really.” Frowning his grabbed his shirt from off the floor, eyeing it suspiciously. Screw it, he sat down shirtless in front of his coffee and resumed staring out the window.

Gordon walked past him to the stairs, frowning and shooting him the oddest looks.

Virgil ignored him.

-o-o-o-

Scott made it through to lunch and finally dug up the answers the factory manager in Oklahoma had been begging him for. He had also managed to answer the lawyers, read and sign a pile of holographic documents and have a long-delayed meeting with the Japanese CEO. At least John had been able to help with translation. To be honest, it had just been a relief to have a brother to talk to.

Surrounded by family.

Too damned busy.

The last task for the morning was a parent-teacher conversation with Gordon’s curriculum manager. Scott had suspicions that there was a little too much Olympic training happening versus school work. It was a fine balance that had to be maintained. Gordon was a good student, if a little out of the ordinary…but then what Tracy wasn’t? At least two were diagnosed geniuses, and the other three focussed on their goals to the point of blindness, himself included.

His short Air Force career flickered through his mind and he shunted it away.

He was where he needed to be. Fate saw to that.

Scott stepped into the sunken lounge and briefly wondered if he was going to be allowed to leave this room today at any point.

A resigned sigh and he his comms. “Gordon, time for the meeting.”

“FAB. Be there in two.”

Gordon was true to his word and appeared almost immediately, loud shirt and shorts as eye blasting as usual.

Scott reached out dropped a hand on his little brother’s shoulder. At sixteen, already Gordon’s accomplishments required a cabinet to hold all the trophies. With the loss of their father, Gordon had stumbled with the rest of them, but he was regaining his feet fast. He had to. This was his chance. The 2056 Olympics waited for no excuses.

This time it started on his wrist.

The faintest of tickles.

It was a tickle, not an itch. It played with nerve endings just like someone had their finger gently brushing across the surface of his skin.

It travelled up his arm as he snatched his hand away from his brother.

It was in his shirt again.

There were words as he once again found himself grabbing at his shirt.

“Scott, what?”

He was vaguely aware of the concerned expression on his brother’s face, but he was too busy trying not to giggle or scream.

His shirt ended up on the floor again.

Gordon stared at him a full five seconds, his face caught between incredulity, worry and hysterical laughter. Being Gordon, the laughter won out.

Scott ignored him and poked his shirt with his foot.

Of course, that was the moment John flickered in to advise that the curriculum manager was ready for the meeting. Scott had to admit that somewhere in the back of his wasted brain, there was something quite funny about the expression on the space monitor’s face.

Gordon, of course, had tears running down his face and was useless.

Scott had a lot of experience keeping his composure. He needed it all at the moment. “John, could you please ask Ms Smithson to hold for a moment, I need to grab a shirt.”

John bit his lip, obviously holding something back. But, ever the professional, he didn’t say anything but, “FAB,” before blinking out.

Scott picked up his shirt with two fingers and made a beeline for his bedroom.

At least he got a moment outside of the comms room.

-o-o-o-

A new shirt found, Scott made it through the interview. Turned out Gordon had been really working hard and with a small adjustment to his curriculum, he should be able to manage both his training and his graduation with only a small delay. Scott was satisfied that it would be the best for the athlete at this time.

The grin on Gordon’s face made it extra worthwhile.

Scott turned back to the desk after the meeting, but the list of messages awaiting his attention just hurt to look at.

Screw it. He deserved food, another room and maybe even some brotherly conversation. A quick check on Virgil’s location placed him, as expected, in the hangars. The engineer had not been happy that his ‘bird had suffered during last night’s rescue. Virgil was as bad as he was. His brother hadn’t slept, International Rescue his highest priority.

Scott sighed. How could they be expected to go ahead like this?

Lunch. Food. He struggled to focus his mind. Had he had breakfast? He couldn’t remember.

An elevator ride and he walked out into the cool underground caverns that housed the great green behemoth that was the love of his brother’s life.

It wasn’t hard to locate that brother. The profanity was extreme for Virgil and it had Scott quickening his step around the great plane. He found his brother harnessed and hanging in front of Two’s starboard intake. The swearing was moving into European languages, never a good sign.

Scott shouted up at the dangling engineer. “Virgil?!”

“What?!” A spanner fell and hit the concrete two metres in front of Scott. Despite himself, he jumped.

Virgil stared down at him owlishly for a whole handful of seconds. “Sorry.” It was muttered, honest, but grudging.

“Can you come down?”

“Why?”

“It’s lunch time.”

“I’m not hungry. I’ve got to get this done. I’ve got to replace part of the filter housing.”

“Well, I am hungry and you haven’t slept. Come down.”

“I’m fine! This can’t wait!”

“Damnit, Virgil, get down here now!”

The glare that hit him from above was dark and fuelled from the bottom of a desperate coffee pot. Scott had no doubt of that.

But one more muttered expletive and his brother rappelled down to the concrete floor. Dressed in flannel with his maintenance harness secured over ratty jeans, Virgil was covered in dust and grime.

Didn’t dull his fury though.

The fact he was so angry, so out of character for the generally calm and quiet engineer was more than enough proof that his brother needed rest.

“What do you want, Scott. I have to fix my ‘bird otherwise she can’t fly and we can’t answer the next call.”

“I’m having some serious doubts we can answer the next call anyway. Look at yourself, Virgil. You’re exhausted.”

“Kettle, pot, Scott.”

“Exactly! Eat lunch with me.”

Those dark brows wrinkled even further, brown eyes making that subtle switch between engineer and concerned brother.

Scott supposed he should have expected this. Maybe he was asking for it, hiding from a decision he knew he was going have to make.

Offering himself up as a sacrifice in order for Virgil to make the decision for him.

He was so goddamned tired.

This time the tickle started on his calf, just above his right sock.

He wriggled, frowning, shifting his feet.

It climbed up his leg and he let out a squawk somewhere between a giggle and a profane word that would have had Grandma washing his mouth out with soap.

“Scott?”

It was running around and around his thigh. Scott cracked and grabbed at his leg, spinning on the spot as Virgil reached for him.

Whatever it was, it was fast. Up and down his leg as if anticipated his attempts to grab it through his jeans.

“Scott, what is…oh, shit!”

The eldest Tracy spun to find Virgil hanging upside down in his harness grabbing at his shirt.

The tickle in Scott’s leg took the opportunity to breach his waist band and play with his navel.

Buttons flew across the hangar as Scott tore the shirt from his body.

There was nothing on his belly.

Virgil squawked and writhed, still upside down.

The tickle appeared back in Scott’s pants, this time behind his left knee. He didn’t hesitate, shedding his shoes, he shucked his pants and tossed them aside.

Finally, finally the ticklish feeling stopped. But Scott was left in his black short briefs and socks.

And damn it was cold in the hangars.

Virgil was still writhing upside down, unable to shed clothing due to his harness. “Goddamnit, Scott, help.” There was the sound of ripping flannel as heavy lifting muscles resorted to force.

Scott grabbed at his brother’s harness and wrapping an arm around those broad shoulders, released the safety line. Virgil weight was considerable, but Scott stabilised him enough for the engineer to get his feet beneath him. A fumble with the harness buckles and the support fell to the concrete with a clink of its metal links.

Torn flannel followed.

Two layers of shirt stripped, Virgil suddenly took a deep breath and dropped his hands to his knees, letting his head drop. “It’s stopped.”

Both brothers heaved in air for a moment.

“What the hell was that?” Virgil looked up at Scott.

“I have no idea. Third time this morning.”

“Second.” Virgil’s voice was all breath.

“Happened before?”

Virgil nodded. “Over coffee.” A frown. “Gordon came in afterwards. This isn’t a new prank is it?”

Scott stared at his brother for a moment. “Gordon was there both times this morning.”

Virgil’s shoulders dropped. “I’m going to kill him.”

“He’s not here now.” Scott looked around before hesitantly poking his shirt enough to active his comms. “Thunderbird Five, could you give me a location on Gordon?”

“Scott? You okay?”

“I will be once I find Gordon.”

“He’s on the pool deck, apparently studying. The meeting went well?”

Scott frowned. “Yes, a few small changes will make room for his training. Gordon was very happy with the plan.” Could explain the studying.

“That’s great news.”

“Yes, it is.” He wondered how happy John would be if he could see him standing in his underwear next to a shirtless Virgil.

“Are you sure you are okay?”

Perhaps his brother didn’t need to see. “I’ll let you know after I’ve spoken to Gordon.”

“Okay. Remember fratricide is not an option.”

“Don’t spoil it for me.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #irrelief #irrelief2020 #I really wish my muse would actually work when I have time

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lycorogue · 5 years ago

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Kyoru Week: Day 2 - Firsts

I’m gonna be honest, I wrote this in like 2hrs; it’s nearly 1am (so I missed the deadline for the 2nd day in a row), and so I haven’t really edited it. Sorry if there’s any typos. I’ll try to do a good polish/edit tomorrow when I’m awake again. :P

UPDATE: K. It should be all edited now. ^_^ UPDATE #2: I forgot to mention that you can also read this story on AO3, on FFN, or on DA

-----------------------------

Experience It All

Spoilers: Story is post high school graduation Romance Level: Newly Dating Word Count: 1493 Summary: It's the first apartment Kyo ever owned. The first one he and TOHRU ever owned. And he becomes surprised as to how many more "firsts" they have to go.

Kyo was buzzing with nervous energy. The keys to their new place clinked against each other as he spun the ring around his index finger, catching the keys and then spinning them in the opposite direction. Spin clockwise. Catch. Clink. Spin counter-clockwise. Catch. Clink. Spin clockwise again.

“Is this it?” Tohru clung to Kyo's left arm. She had been taking in the quaintness of the village he had moved her to, but upon hearing the jingle of the keys, she focused on the building before them.

“It's gonna be small,” Kyo warned, not moving as he took in the apartment complex. “It's not going to be like Shigure's place, or your grandfather's.”

“That's okay. Mom and I used to have a small place. Besides, I'm sure it will be way bigger than a tent.” She giggled, and hugged Kyo's arm close.

She had spent months in that tent, alone in woods she didn't realize had belonged to the affluent Sohma family.

Months. Alone.

Kyo had never been alone. Not really. He had been neglected, sure, and might as well have been alone. Still, he always had an adult near by. When he was real young it was his mother. Then, after she died and Kyo was all but disowned by his father, Kazuma Sohma took him in. He had loved Kyo, and the boy took that love for granted. Worse. He didn't accept that it was real, not before he met Tohru. Even when Kyo was lost within himself - after failing to save Tohru's mother – he wasn't alone. Kazume spirited him away to recover and revive. Then it was Shigure's turn to watch over Kyo.

For someone who felt isolated and unloved, he always had a guiding hand. He was the adult now; almost. He wasn't living in someone else's house anymore. This was his place. He held keys for his home. He was the master of this place. He wasn't sure he was ready for that sort of responsibility. Why couldn't he be a stupid kid again?

“Kyo-kun?” Tohru's soft voice brought Kyo back to the present. “Are we not in the right place?”

“No. No we are. Sorry. I was just-” He looked up at their apartment front door. He could do this, right? He could run a household. He could work full time as an apprentice at the local dojo. He could provide for Tohru. He could keep her happy and safe here. He could even save up enough for her to take the train back to Tokyo a few times each year to visit everyone. He was a man now. He could do it.

“Come on.” Tohru tugged a bit on his hand. “Show me our new place! I can't wait to see.”

Chuckling at her eagerness helped ease him. She could always do that. No matter his mood, she could always bring him to center. With a huge grin, he sprinted ahead, dragging her behind him as he took the stairs two at a time. She squealed with excitement as she ran with him.

“Ready for our new place?”

“Kyo-kun.” It was her turn to sound a bit nervous. “This is the first time it will be just the two of us in a home.”

“I know.” He pulled her into a hug, still marveling at the fact that he could hold her in his arms; feel her head nestled against his chest. “I'm sorry. It may be a bit lonely since you don't have others to keep you company while I'm out.”

She pushed away from him and shook her head. “We have all of these neighbors. I'm sure I'll find plenty of company here.”

“I know you well enough to know that it will be impossible for any of these people to not love you as soon as they meet you.” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips before resting his forehead against hers. “I'm sure in no time you'll have our place bustling just as much like a convention center as Shigure's house.”

Kyo unlocked the front door, and slowly sung it open. It was such a simple little abode. From the front door he could see the little galley kitchen to the left, the three-square-meter living room straight ahead, and the double glass doors to the porch just beyond that. There were three doors to the right: a bathroom, and two closet-sized bedrooms. Kyo wasn't even sure if the Western-style bed Shigure had bought Tohru a few years back would fit in her cubbyhole. As it were, his futon was probably going to carpet his room.

“Kyo-kun?” Tohru tried to scrunch down to look under Kyo's arm. Then she stretched on to her tiptoes to try to see past his shoulder. As she bobbed and weaved, Kyo realized he was still in the doorway, and was now broad enough to block most of it.

“Sorry.” He blushed slightly, and scratched the back of his head. “I- I know that now isn't traditionally when I'm supposed to do it, but-” He gulped and tucked the keys into his front pants pocket. “Would you mind if I, ya know, carried you in?”

Tohru's hopping ceased. Instead, a grin slowly stretched across her face, and her whole body appeared lighter; not as weighed down by gravity as it should. Holding her hands, folded, against her chest, she emphatically nodded.

Smiling back, Kyo knelt so he could scoop up her knees. Lifting her into a bridal carry, Kyo carefully stepped her over the threshold of their home. Their first home. Theirs. Instead of putting her down on the other side of the door, he continued to carry her to the teeny living room, and swung her around in a large circle. Hooting with excitement.

“Look at it, Tohru! This is ours! Just ours!” Kyo stopped in the center of the room, and lowered Tohru to her feet. While he was still leaning down, she kissed him.

“I love it.”

“Come on.” He took her hand and pulled her through the apartment. “This is obviously the kitchen. I hope it will be big enough for you to cook, but if not I'll figure something out for you. We could even put the rice cooker right here, just outside the galley. I could put a little table here or something.” He then ran to the bathroom. “It's not much, but it has a shower, and there's a hot spring nearby if you wanted to occasionally soak in a tub instead.” He pushed passed her, and escorted her to the first of the bedrooms. “This one looks a bit small. It can be mine if you'd like.”

“Yours?”

Kyo was too excited to register her question as he escorted her to the second bedroom. “Yeah. This one looks large enough for your bed. This can be your bedroom.”

“Mine?”

“And look! There's a large enough window for you to climb through, and the back porch runs the full width of our place. You could easily reach a line through here, and that way you don't need to leave the warmth of your room to hang up clothes even in winter.”

“Kyo-kun-”

He hopped through the window with ease and looked up. “I can even access the roof easily from here if I really wanted to!”

“Kyo-kun!” Tohru's voice was loud, but still meek.

“Hmm? Sorry. You wanted something, Tohru?” Kyo climbed back inside, and scooped her hands up into his.

“You said 'my room' and 'your room'.”

“Yeah.”

“I- well-” Her thumbs raced across his fingers; nervous energy shooting out of her. “I was- I mean, since we-” Her face bypassed pink and went straight to crimson. “I'm sorry, I'm being too forward. Nevermind.”

Now it was Kyo's turn to match a beet.

“Tohru, were- were you- do you mean- Did you expect us to share a room?”

She squeaked and ripped her hands from his so she could hide behind them.

Kyo was going to live without a supervising adult for the first time in his life, and his girlfriend wanted to share a bedroom. Wasn't he a high school student just a couple of weeks ago? How did life go this fast?

He gently bopped the top of her head with his knuckles, startling her enough to drop her shield of fingers. Before her surprise subsided, he cupped her face. He again rested his forehead against hers before pecking a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“You do not have to ask me twice to share a room with you, Tohru. We can use the other one for something else. Storage, or a library, or a study-”

“Or a practice room for you?”

“We can do whatever you want with it.” He scooped her into another hug, his heart racing with excitement. After three years with this woman, he still had so many Firsts to go through. He couldn't wait to experience them all.

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ryn-exe · 6 years ago

Text

I Want Crazy

This was written for Nethii's (@radical-flaar-queen) 18th birthday! I based this off Hunter Hayes' song 'I want crazy'. I love you Nethii, hope you enjoy this :))

Word count: 1,124

~~~

206 miles between them. 206 miles separating them from each other. 206 miles and £70 stopping them from meeting. It sucked. Dan just wanted to cuddle up with his new boyfriend, share their first kiss and first hug. But no, of course he had to live on the other side of England.

Realistically, he knew things would be different once they met. Dan would know what Phil smelt like, he'd finally get to see Phil in the flesh, hed get to hear his voice properly. But love doesn't know what distance is, so maybe nothing would change after all.

///

Booking the train ticket to Manchester was a big deal for Dan. He'd been saving up enough money for weeks, and now he was about to press the little ‘pay now’ button. It didn't feel real. It didn't feel like in just a week, he'd finally be with Phil. He'd finally be able to see the colour in his eyes, the gorgeous eyes he'd been thinking about throughout the whole process. Maybe he was being obsessive, but technically they were in their honeymoon phase and surely it was normal.

His phone pinged with a text from Phil. ‘have you booked them yet?’ it said, making dan draw a shaky breath. ‘almost’, he responded, pressing the button to pay only seconds after sending the text. Giddiness overtook him as he got the confirmation email, and he immediately called Phil.

“One week.” was the first thing he said when Phil picked up.

“I don't think I can wait a week.” Phil joked, and Dan could hear the excitement in his voice. It was finally happening, they were finally going to meet.

“Me neither,” Dan sighed. “Fuck, I'm gonna get to hug you. I can't wait to finally see your eyes. I can't wait for you to show me around Manchester. I just can't wait.” Dan was an absolute mess, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was gonna get to meet Phil. He'd waited so long, and now that it was actually happening, he was struggling to believe it. It all felt like a fantasy.

///

Their last Skype call before meeting was different from the rest. Yes, it was the end of an era, the last time they'd call without having actually met. However, what happened in the call also contributed to why it was so different, so out of character for them.

Dan was nervous for the next day. No, scratch that, he was absolutely terrified. He didn't want things to change between them the next day. His parents had been so hard to convince to let him go all the way to Manchester to meet his boyfriend (‘best friend’), and he didn't want all the effort to go to waste.

It was nearing 1am when Dan confessed how nervous he was and how much he needed Phil.

“I cant sleep, cant breathe, without your love,” Dan whispered when Phil said that nothing would change. “What if when we meet, you decide I'm not good enough, decide I'm too crazy or something? I'm the happiest I've been in ages with you.” A stray tear slipped from his eye as he admitted what he'd been holding back for so long.

Phil squeezed the pillow that he'd been holding, pulling it closer to himself. Dan imagined that was him, and hoped Phil imagined the same.

“Dan, I don't want easy, I want crazy. I want you. I'm never gonna think that you're not good enough for me.” He reassured, kissing his fingers and pressing them to the webcam on his laptop like they'd both done so many times before. Dan did the same before wiping the few other tears that had escaped.

“But what if I'm not what you imagined me as? What if I'm too much for you?”

“Dan, love, I promise you won't be.” Phil's eyes flickered to the bottom right of his screen, probably checking the time. “It's late, try to sleep, honey.” He told Dan, shifting around to get more comfortable.

“You'll be there when I get to the station tomorrow?” Dan whispered shakily.

“Of course.”

///

Walking around Manchester with Phil was incredible. There was simply no other word to describe it. He could tell they were both nervous as fuck, but they were joking and laughing and having fun.

Stepping off the train just hours earlier had been so nerve wracking for Dan. He couldn't see Phil, and as stupid as it sounds, he thought he'd been stood up. He didn't have enough money with him to book a hotel for the 3 nights he was planning on staying so if Phil had stood him up, he was absolutely fucked. And then, he heard his name called and felt arms wrap tightly around him.

He'd gasped and struggled to return the hug, felt soft kisses pressed all over his hair, neck, and face and giggled quietly. Phil was here, Phil hadn't broken his promise. And man, did he smell good. Dan breathed in deeply before whispering ‘you're real’ and breaking the hug. Phil took his hand and grinned down at Dan, starting to lead them out of the station.

Since then, they'd dumped Dan's stuff at Phil's parent's house and just wandered around the city. Manchester was slowly lighting up as night fell, making Dan aware of how late it's gotten.

“Should we head back to your place soon?” He asked nervously, not wanting to be in an unfamiliar city at night, even if he was with Phil.

“I want to do one more thing, and then we'll go home.” Phil promised. Dan nodded and let Phil lead him towards the Manchester Eye. He grinned and squeezed Phil's hand tightly as he bought them a ticket each, climbing into the cabin after Phil and being eternally grateful that they were the only ones. As the Eye rotated slowly, Dan and Phil shifted closer and closer together. They were almost at the top when Dan was almost sitting on Phil's lap.

A sudden burst of confidence rushed through Dan as he cupped Phil's cheek and kissed him. It took a few moments for Phil to respond, terrifying Dan. Had he read the situation wrong? Did Phil not want to kiss him? He was about to pull away when Phil's arms wrapped around Dan and he melted into the kiss. When Dan pulled away, they were both flushed and Dan was certain he was about to cry from happiness.

“I think I love you,” Dan whispered before he leant in for another kiss. They were breaking all the rules, but it's them and they don't care about the rules. As long as Dan has Phil and Phil has Dan, they could get through anything.

#dnp #phanfic #phanfiction #fetus phan #fetus!phan #songfic #happy birthday nethii

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restlessmelodrama · 7 years ago

Text

Say I Never Mattered Chapter 1 *:･ﾟ✧

Steve Harrington x Y/N Henderson (Slowburn)

Warnings: Swearing (i guess), also… probably bad writing.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 /

Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8

Playlist

A/N: Hi, you may have noticed, that this is a new account.

I’ve been on Tumblr for- who the fuck knows? Many years. I feel old.

I wrote some fanfics before, and a few people were reading it.

Then out of nowhere like every mentally-stable person would, I deleted everything and disappeared from the Internet for two years. But I’m back now, so hey!

I guess my writing isn’t that bad, so I hope you enjoy. xD

⟡ Tell me, if I should continue this series and leave some constructive criticism if you want to.

P.S: I’m not a native speaker, so sorry if I made any mistakes.

There you were.

Walking down the rainy, cold streets of Hawkins, Indiana.

You had just left the modest road between Euclid and Monroe leading to a few gorgeous houses, with garages as big as your home and huge heated pools with jets. Upper-class shit.

It was shortly after eleven am on a Friday night in November and the poorly lit streets of Hawkins were deserted, as always right after nightfall. This town was the definition of a dump.

You were rummaging through your backpack, searching for your small mirror, in the need to check if black streaks of mascara were visible on your face. You had to look somewhat presentable since you still had to pick up your little brother from the Wheeler’s place.

You found it right when you turned onto Maple Street and tried to wipe away one of the destructions this night had left, with the right sleeve of your beloved jean jacket and buttoned it up to hide the rest of the visible embarrassment. Continuing to walk to the only house in the neighborhood with its lights still on.

You rang the doorbell and quickly walked the few steps, leading to the front door, back down. You were a little tipsy and did not wanna risk an argument with Mr. Wheeler about underaged drinking. If he couldn’t smell the alcohol he wouldn’t notice, since he barely even noticed your existence... or anyone’s as a matter of fact.

The light turned on and the door opened, revealing a pissed Ted Wheeler in a green tracksuit and Birkenstocks. His usual look.

“Hi, Mr. Wheeler. Sorry for the late disturbance, but I’m here to pick up my brother“, you said in the friendliest way possible.

He looked at you in confusion.

“Dustin Henderson“, you tried to help him.

Still no sign of enlightenment

“You know, wild curls, baseball cap, very annoying.“, you told him, nervously chuckling, hoping he would finally snap out of it.

“Oh yeah Justin“, he nodded.

“It’s Dus-“, you wanted to correct him, but you were interrupted.

“They’re in the basement. Can you go down there and get him? I’m watching the game.“, he asked with an annoyed undertone in his voice.

„Um- uh sure… I can go“, you stuttered.

This guy was unbelievable. Incredibly useless. A waste of space.

You never understood what Mrs. Wheeler saw in the man.

You took a deep breath and followed him inside. He pointed you towards the living room and disappeared into their kitchen.

You shook your head in disbelief, walking through the Wheeler home. It was already decorated for Christmas.

You always admired Mrs. Wheeler’s assertiveness to turn their place into a Winter Wonderland although her family hated it. Everywhere you looked were little ornaments, fairy lights or other decorations.

It made you think of decorating the tree with your mom and your brother. A very distant but happy memory.

You were about to open the door to the basement when Mr. Wheeler called after you.

“Hey, Henderson, hold up! One question.“

“Yes?“ You asked, turning around after rolling your eyes, wondering what the hell he could possibly want, certain that he had called you by your last name because he couldn’t remember your first.

“Is there a chance you have seen my daughter, Nancy anywhere?“, he wanted to know, really pushing his parental might, as he was staring you down.

He clearly thought he was an authority figure to you, which was so far off, that it was kind of funny. Especially in your tipsy state of mind.

“No… I’m afraid I haven’t.”, you responded, biting back your laughter.

“Aren’t you two always out together?“, he wanted to know next, crossing his arms over his chest.

What world was this guy living in?

“Yes, that would be true if we were still in middle school exchanging our lunch boxes, Mr. Wheeler.

We barely talk now.“ you declared, sighing.

“Oh, okay”, he said, already having lost interest in what you were telling him.

You gave him a sarcastic smile, that you normally used when you were about to flip somebody off and turned around, stepping into the basement and leaving the ignorant man behind. You kept standing on top of the staircase for a few seconds, attempting to calm yourself down, but were interrupted by Max sighing in relief,

“Shit, Y/ N! You scared me. I thought you were my brother.“, she blurted out.

“Oh, sorry to disappoint, but I believe my hairdo isn’t a mullet, looking like I planted some roadkill on my head. Also, my jeans are just not that tight“, you joked, the kids erupting into laughter and earning yourself a high-five from Lucas.

“You’re good for tonight, though.“, you said reaching into your pocket to reveal a set of keys. You tossed them over to Max, who had a look on her face like she had just won the lottery, as soon as she realized who they belonged to.

“You took his keys?“, she asked, her eyes growing wide, a huge smile on her face.

“Yeah, he tried to drive home shitfaced, so I thought I’d do everyone else on planet earth a favor and take them. Well, except for Harrington, because Billy totally crashed in the shed in his backyard.“, you explained planting yourself on the couch next to Mike, digging into the bag of tortilla chips and stuffing a few in your mouth.

You tried not to think about it too much but your heart began to hurt when his name left your lips. You didn’t know what to think. That night had been messy and ugly and heartbreaking.

“You definitely saved my ass. Thanks, Y/N!“, Max interrupted your thoughts again.

You cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the feeling of it closing up,

“Anytime, California.“, you smiled.

The party had been playing DnD, all day and they begged you to let them finish the game, stating it would only take a few more minutes.

Almost an hour later, they had finally lost and your brother was displeased enough to be willing to leave since he was a sore loser.

You quickly said your goodbyes and left through the back door.

“Where’s the car?“ Dustin asked when you reached the front of the house.

He seemed pretty drained all of a sudden.

“I had something to drink, tonight, so no driving for me, sorry.

Also, dad needed my car earlier today“, you brought up as casual as possible, trying to make it seem harmless.

Dustin sighed, rolling his eyes, “He took off again. Didn’t he?“

“No, Dusty, I’m sure he will be home by tomorrow.“, you lied once more, giving him a hopefull smile.

“You know that’s utter bullshit.“, he hissed, kicking the ground in frustration.

Bullshit, it was like the fucking word was haunting you. Tonight it kept growing, tougher and meaner.

“We both know that it’s not likely that we will see him or your car anytime soon. You can stop pretending, Y/N. I’m not a little kid. I know what’s going on.“, he exclaimed clearly angry.

He didn’t know what was going on. Not all of it, and you were very thankful for that.

But he was right, he wasn’t little anymore. You still hoped you could give him the kind of childhood, you weren’t allowed to have. You felt the tears build up again, but you were able to hold them back. You didn’t want Dustin to feel even worse just because you were tipsy and emotional.

“You’re right“, you gave him a sad smile,

“But you’re also not grown up yet and you already have enough on your plate, Dusty.“, you said, feeling a little overwhelmed as your vision began to blur.

He must have seen the tears in your eyes and your exhausted posture because he immediately gave up on reasoning with you.

Both of you fell into silence for a few minutes. Your brother was staring at the ground and dragging his feet.

You bit your lip. You hated when things were that way between you.

You moved a bit closer to him and slightly pushed his side with your elbow.

“How about some fries and a milkshake?“, you asked trying to get him to talk to you again. You couldn’t bear that silence.

He looked at you with furrowed brows and a scrunched up nose, “It’s almost 1am.“

“All right grandpa!“, you teased him, “If you’d rather go home to stare at our empty fridge, we’ll do that.“

“Oh, hell no! Let’s go to Benny’s Burgers. They are open all night on Fridays.“, he chuckled almost sounding offended.

You smiled, putting an arm around the boy's shoulders, turning the corner to Randolph Lane.

“Y/N? One more thing…“, he asked stopping in his tracks, looking serious all of a sudden.

“What is it?“, you asked, squinting your eyes a little.

“You’re paying right?“, he grinned.

And you let out heartfelt laughter.

“Oh no Mister, since you don’t want to be treated like a little kid anymore, I think you’re going to pay for yourself. Welcome to adulthood, brother.“ You told him still laughing and obviously thinking he would get the joke, but he didn’t.

“Oh, come on Y/N, I-“, he began to argue.

The rest of his sentence was swallowed by the sound of your heart beating so loud, you thought it would hop right out of your chest, any second. Excruciating pain was moving through your entire body, as you stared at the dark-red BMW parked in front of the restaurant.

You felt a cold shiver run down your back and your throat was starting to hurt again.

Tonight the odds really weren’t in your favor.

“Cool, Steve is here! Maybe he can drive us home later.“, Dustin exclaimed, excitedly.

“Yeah, Maybe“, you whispered, not wanting to alert your brother.

You were walking, a few hesitant steps behind Dustin, your mind telling you to run in the other direction and not stop until you were out of this fucking town leaving behind everything. Your family, your responsibilities and him. Especially him.

Fuck.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington/you #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington abuse #steve harrington angst #steve harrington reader insert #reader insert #x reader #Say I Never Mattered

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thisgoldenafternoon · 7 years ago

Text

Coincidence, you said??

Hey there, I'm back with another rant (rambling, whatever I don’t care) this time on a panel of VnC, that probably made many a heart flutter.

I'm talking about this panel from Memoir 14:

This post will contain spoilers for VnC so far and Pandora Hearts. Turn away now, you have been warned. It’s also gonna be long as fuck...

And therefore I can hardly believe, that this special pannel, should have been nothing but fanservice or a lumpish reference to PH. No way.

Why would she even choose theese alias? For aforementioned reasons? I highly doubt it. Bitch, please, this is MoshiJun-sensei, after all. Give her some credit.

So I thought about it and various things crossed my mind.

Please note: the following is nothing but me rambling about some vague parallels and thoughts, that popped right into my head at 1am right after reading Memoir 14, that I only now found time to put into words.

(Btw, english isn’t my mother toungue so please bear with mistakes and weird grammar)

(And would you look at this, it’s nearly 1am again... did I mention that I gotta go to work at 7:30 am tomorrow? Today??? Well, as soon as the alarm rings, anyways)

So first of all... I think that when we look back at that scene from a later point in the story we might realize just how much of a foreshadowing she's been giving us here. From what we've learnt in the last arc we can already draw many parallels between those characters.

Let's start with Vincent and Vanitas, shall we?

Both of them are considered harbingers of bad luck, Vince as a child of misfortune for that red eye of his, Vanitas for been kin of the blue moon and therefore associated with the curse of Bloom Vanitas. Both of the symbols of misfortune are closely linked to the cirumstances of their births and a certain colour, but that just seems to be the way MochiJun rolls.

Although we still don't know much about Vanis early childhood, it's stated that he, too, is an orphan who'd been abused and manipulated.

Also, Vanitas seems to blame himself heavily for the (still unknown fate) of Nr. 71, who'd referred to him as “Oni-chan”. Whether they're blood relatives or not matters little, as I'm sure he has as big a brother complex as Vincent had.

It's further hinted that Vani caused someone's death, and boy isn't that true for Vincent as well (no it's absolutely not, for the poor little sinnamon roll had been fucking manipulated by Jack and was just trying to save the only person he's ever loved and vice versa... So the precious child actually did nothing wrong. Still a lot of people died in the aftermath of his deeds and it haunted him ever since. I guess it'll turn out to be a similar story with Vanitas.)

From the general characteristics we've been shown thus far, even more parallels arise. Both characters are emotionally and physically traumatized, abused and mistreated, and therefore act distant, happy-go-lucky and sometimes ruthless.

They don’t value their lifes, either, and have been ready to give up on themselves multiple times.

Neither of them can deal with open affection and care, for they don't consider themselves worthy of it and refuse to view the people around them as more than mere pawns.

This behaviour is also mirrored in how they treat women- both act chivalrous, flirtatious and deeply committed on the outside, but who's gonna by this, I ask?? It’s all but an act serving an ulteriour motive.

In general, both seem to look for atonement and forgiveness. This was what saved Vincent in the end, and I'll be damned, if it won't save Vanitas, as well. Just think about Noe's words at the end of Memoir 18. Now we'll just have to wait and see, what kind of salvation that'll turn out to be.

Which leads me to the next part... (please bear with me, who ever reads this till the end get's all my gratitude and a years worth of fictional cookies).

Noe and Gil... frankly I didn't find as many parallels here, as with the previous two, but some still came to mind. (If any of you guys has something to add, please message me, I'm dying to hear your thoughts)

First thing here again is both of them being orphans with a somewhat tragic past, that still turned out to be the most precious cinnamon rolls.

Both have a strong need to protect and act as a shield due to certain physical traits (Gil was able to take more or less any hit due to being a Baskerville, while Noe is a fucking Vampire).

The two of them are also portrayed as more or less naïve and sometimes simple minded, yet head strong and generally kind hearted.

We know, that Gilbert's mind has been manipulated and tempered with and that he was bound to his master's will and frankly, I wouldn't be too surprised if that turned out to be true for Noe as well. His “teacher” is shady as fuck.

By the way, Noe had been more than once shown with hands reaching out for him from the shadows in official art...

Like here, e.g.:

In this case those are specifically his teacher's hands. You know who else had often been shown like that? Oz. And Gilbert. In Oz's case those hands longing for him represent Jack, in Gil's case Glen Baskerville. (Sorry, can't find the pic I'm looking for right now... Oh wait... there it is:

This might be a little far fetched, but maybe it's a hint, that Noe as well is bound tightly by his past? Maybe he, too, is a vessel for some ominous entity?? We'll know for sure some day.

I guess I could pull some more things out of my arse right now, but it's getting late on my end and this post is already sooo fucking long. (Sorry, not sorry.) But I think I got the major issues covered.

So, if you've read all of this: Here is your cookie! You're a precious being and deserve all the love you can get!

That's it guys, TGA.

#vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vanitas no shuki #les memoires de vanitas #vanitas #noe #Pandora Hearts #vincent nightray #gilbert nightray #character study #jun mochizuki #memoire 14

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artistickay · 7 years ago

Photo

Hey, I drew another thing for a writing piece! (writing is under the cut but there are small mentions of transphobia so look out for that)

After not seeing his mom for a month, her and Connor get into an argument. He was laying down in the living room couch reading something for school with his cat, Maximous resting beside him when she just walked in, coming home from work and she began yelling at him. “What are you doing?” She asked in a serious tone. “I’m just reading.” Connor answered. “You’re lying down, if you wanted to do that you should of done that in your room!” Her voice raised up in a more angry tone. “Is that such a bad thing? I mean-” Before he was able to finish the sentence he was interrupted. “Don’t talk back to me! And is that for homework? You should've done this hours ago, that’s the reason why I put you into a private school for a reason, if you act like this chances are you’re not staying at that school for much longer.” She ranted. “I don’t get why you’re so mad about this, mom.” He spoked in a confused yet annoyed manner. “What I’m saying is that your behavior in this house is unacceptable!” She spoke “It’s not like you’re ever here to even witness it.” Connor mumbled. “Excuse me?” Her voice got a bit more quiet but still sounding angry. “Even though you rarely see me, you still live under my house and you must go under my rules, you either respect my choices or leave this house, young lady.” His face went into shock after hearing those last two words, and by that he got up and walked out the door, with his cat trailing behind him. Connor was really upset about the entire situation and needed someone to vent to so he standed outside thinking of who to go to. “V texted me that he was gonna go to bed a while ago so I really don’t wanna bother him. Alison and I don’t really have that strong of a bond where we can have emotional conversations.” He stops to think who’s left. “I guess Myra is my only option. We were pretty close, like a few years ago but we never really been that close after that and we’ve been trying to communicate more often.” And making his final decision, Connor went to send her a quick text so his arrival wouldn’t be a surprise. ‘Hey Myra, this may sound sudden but is it alright if I can come over for a bit to talk?’ Within a small amount of time she text him back, ‘It’s pretty late, but I guess you can come over.’ From reading the text the turned to Maximous. “Well it looks like we’re going to visit Myra.” He crouched down so the cat could be able to climb onto his shoulder to rest. After a short walk Connor arrived to Myra’s house. He rang the doorbell and in some time Myra opened the door. “Sup.” She said in a relaxed and chill tone. “Hey, thanks for letting me come over at such short notice.” He responded in a polite manner, and letting Max jump off his shoulder “It's no problem at all. But why did you want to come here?” Forgetting that he didn't add his reason why he wanted to come over at Myra’s place, Connor had to think for a second to put everything in words. “Well, it's about my mom.” “O-oh.” Myra responded in a confusing manner. “Don't you usually go to V’s place to vent for things like this?” “Yeah but he went to bed about an hour ago so I didn't want to wake him up with my problems.” “Well, he is the early sleeper but knowing you, you can save your venting until he’s available.” “Some stuff I can wait for V, other things I can tend to bottle up, but I kept it for too long and I really needed to tell someone, and since we were great friends for a while I thought I could just go to you.” Myra quickly paces to the couch to sit and pats the seat next to her, telling Connor to sit which is what he does. “So, what’s so bad about your mom?” She asked positively. She seems really supportive which is something she shows on rare occasions where no one is really around to see it. “You know how there’s these strict parents who want their child to be perfect?” He inquired. “Yeah.” “Okay so that’s my mom but she’s always on her period and always has a stick up her ass.” “That’s really bad.” “I know. The thing is, she comes home late and night and leaves super early for work so the only times I see her is if I stay up after 1am.”Myra got a bit confused by what he said. “And that’s a problem because?” “Because when the small chance when I do see her all she does is complain about any little thing. Whether it be me just resting, the clothing I wear, the small tiny mess on the table, me not acting ‘lady like’, the list goes on.” Connor shouts in anger. Myra didn’t really know how to respond to what he said so all she did was just pat him on the back, while Max goes up and lays on his lap. “Well, like you said you don’t see her often so I guess that’s a plus.” She replied. ”I guess you’re right about that, but if I try to go home she’ll probably be waiting by the door ready to yell at me for leaving even though, that’s what she told me to do.” There was a small moment of silence between the two until, “If you want you could just stay over here for the night.” Myra asserted. “Wait, are you sure? What about your sister?” Connor asked in a concerned manner. “Don’t worry about her, she’s out with friends and plans on coming home tomorrow morning, if you’re still here by the time she comes home then I’ll just explain to her why you’re here.” After a few seconds of thinking, Connor made his decision. “Alright then I’ll stay here for the night, beats getting a lecture of how ‘awful’ of a child I am by mom.” “Hell yeah! So, what do you wanna do?” Myra shouted in her usual perky tone, jumping off the couch. Connor shrugs while looking at Max, stroking his fur.“How about those shitty reality tv shows? Those seem to cheer you up.” “I guess that’ll work.” Connor answered with a slightly happy tone in his voice. And the two of them watched whatever reality show they were able to find, laughing at the ridiculous drama in it, and have normal, friendly conversations about life until falling asleep for the night.

#Huskay's Art #Huskay's OCs #Myra #Connor

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sevenkookiejars · 8 years ago

Note

“We’re both in the vegetable isle and I just burst into tears while staring at the cabbages” + namjin? 👀

Pairing: NamjinPrompt: “We’re both in the vegetable isle and I just burst into tears while staring at the cabbages” AURating: PGWord Count: 1,726 A/N: I got carried away writing this so for the sake of everyone’s dash, I’ll put half of it under the cut ^~^ (p.s. the cute/fluff stuff is near the end, so read this all the way through!)

This probably isn’t the best idea Seokjin has had but while some people drink away their pain or indulge in retail therapy, grocery shopping has always been the best sort of comfort for him. Which is why Seokjin finds himself welcoming the blast of warmth from the 24-hour hypermart’s interior as he steps through its sliding doors.

Except it’s past 1am and Seokjin’s probably drank one shitty mix too many and he feels a little less in control with the alcohol running through his system.It isn’t Hoseok’s fault for dragging him out of his apartment to a party though. Seokjin understands, really, because he’s been a moping mess if he says so himself, and Hoseok is one of those people who finds comfort in loud music and bad alcohol.

“It’ll be fun, hyung” was Hoseok’s response to Seokjin’s weak excuse of “I don’t party”. And Seokjin’s grateful for a friend like Hoseok, even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy parties, because Hoseok’s trying to cheer him up and comfort him in the only way he knows how.

“Who knows, it might be good for you, you know?” Hoseok’s tone was light but Seokjin still caught his meaningful gaze, heavy with concern. He pretended not to have noticed it.

Hoseok took it upon himself to bring drinks over in the next few hours at Jackson’s place, seating himself down to accompany Seokjin instead of joining the mess of bodies on the makeshift dance floor. Seokjin tried to lose himself in casual conversations with strangers and overbearing music, but three hours in and he’s had enough.

He convinced Hoseok that he was tired and wanted to catch some rest, insisting that Hoseok stayed on to enjoy the party. Shrugging on a single heavy coat, Seokjin then stepped into the darkness of night to make his way across the wintry streets.

But of course, the mart with its bright lights and toasty heating distracted Seokjin, which is how he ends up inside, a basket in one hand, walking towards the fruit and vegetables section. It’s Grocery Day tomorrow anyway (or today to be exact, since it’s past midnight), and Seokjin figures there’s no harm doing it a little early.

The familiarity is comforting and at this time, it’s almost void of customers. Seokjin takes his time, steps still a tad sluggish from drinking as much as he did. He picks up bananas first, before moving to select some apples. The fruits look pretty good this winter despite the early chill, and Seokjin’s glad he can keep up with his whole “an apple a day” ritual. Hoseok laughs at him for it but Seokjin’s adamant that it’s what keeps him from catching a cold when the seasons change.

He’s just picked up two packets of Brussels sprouts and is turning around to see what other vegetables he feels like buying when he sees it. The section with a whole lot of cabbages on display.

Seokjin freezes. No, not now. He can feel the lump in his throat growing and Seokjin fights to swallow it back down. This isn’t the right time and definitely not the right place for this kind of flashback.

No, Seokjin tells himself sternly, but his body doesn’t exactly obey his mind with the alcohol running through him, and he feels tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. His vision blurs and Seokjin stands helpless as hot tears flow freely. It’s pathetic how affected he is even after two weeks. He can’t control the tears, so he only hopes that the cashier doesn’t hear him in the quiet of this enclosed space.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there sobbing as quietly as he can. Maybe it’s a few minutes, or something much longer, but there’s a tap on his shoulder and Seokjin glances up out of reflex.

“Hey, you alright there?” There’s a boy who looks about Seokjin’s age frowning a little at him in concern.

Seokjin blinks back at him through swollen eyes, sniffs once, twice, before coming back to his senses. Turning his face away, Seokjin hastily swipes at his eyes before muttering a soft “yeah, sorry”.

“Here.” The boy extends a pack of tissues into his line of sight and Seokjin hesitates before taking it. “I was passing through this aisle and saw you crying so I figured I’d… you know, see if you’re fine."

His voice is low and gentle, somewhat comforting in Seokjin’s mess of thoughts and he finds himself calming down a little. Seokjin ducks his head again in apology, not trusting his voice at this point (he might just break down again if he opens his mouth).

"Hey, you look kind of familiar,” the boy starts again, and Seokjin almost snorts at that despite his teary state. If that’s a pick-up line, it’s probably one of the worst he has heard. Seokjin hazards a glance at the boy to find him staring back, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

Seokjin’s about to retort with something when the boy’s eyes light up. “Oh! You’re the lead role in last year’s theater production, senior Kim Seokjin?” At Seokjin’s dazed nod, the boy smiles, dimples showing. “My roommate Taehyung has been gushing about how great a senior you are."

Of course it has to be Kim Taehyung that’s roommates with this guy. Great, so Seokjin possibly just threw his reputation that he’s worked hard to earn down the gutter. Because if Taehyung’s roommate over here spills whatever happened today to Taehyung, half the faculty’s going to know about it by the next week.

Seokjin holds back the urge to collapse dramatically to the floor (it’s not his fault that he’s a theater major). Instead he lets out an oddly strangled "thank you”.

The boy, oblivious to Seokjin’s internal struggles, continues with growing excitement evident in his voice. “Taehyung says you’re really good at acting, and that you’re really nice and are always teaching your juniors."

He’s starting to gesture exaggeratedly, all hesitance lost. Cute, Seokjin thinks, before catching himself, because hold on a second, wasn’t he still sobbing over his ex just a few minutes ago?

”… and Taehyung also says you’re an amazing at cooking.“ Seokjin stiffens at that, eyes automatically darting back to the cabbages. He can feel the waterworks starting again, even as he wills himself not to cry.

"Hey,” the boy stops rambling. Somewhere at the back of his mind, an irrational part of Seokjin thinks that he kind of really misses his voice already. A sob escapes his lips and Seokjin tries to muffle it with the sleeve of his coat. There’s a hand on his arm now, touch light and hesitant. “I’m sorry, Seokjin-ssi, I must have said something wrong."

Seokjin shakes his head in disagreement, taking a shaky breath. Because this boy has been nothing but nice and sweet to a random stranger that is Seokjin (aside from hearing about him through Taehyung). It’s probably nearly 2am now and Taehyung’s roommate was probably just dropping by to grab something. He can very well be in bed sleeping right now if not for Seokjin, and yet here he is. So really, as cliched as it sounds, it’s not him but Seokjin that’s the problem, and Seokjin really should get that out to him to take away that frown of concern on his features.

But as always, Seokjin and alcohol means that his mind and everything else just don’t cooperate. "My ex broke up with me because he hated my cabbage kimchi,” Seokjin blurts in place of a “I’ll be fine, I’m sorry for taking up your time”.

The boy blinks once, twice. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he says.

And Seokjin really should shut up right now, but his mouth decides against it. After all, it’s about food. Food and cooking, and Seokjin without alcohol can’t shut up about that, let alone his mildly inebriated self. “I wanted to surprise him with my kimchi stew but he said it was too bland and horrible and that he hated it. Hated my cooking,” Seokjin says queitly. “I swear I stored the kimchi over the last winter though."

Seokjin knows he’s whining by now. Hoseok chides him teasingly for it but Seokjin really can’t help it, especially when it’s about his cooking. But now that he’s done it again, Seokjin feels a flush creeping up his neck, embarrassment setting in two paces too late. Belatedly, Seokjin realises that he not only offloaded his sob story on a stranger, but also came out to him. Great job, Seokjin, great job.

"He doesn’t know how much he’s missing out then.” Seokjin glances up, surprised. The boy’s gaze is on him, steady and calm.

“What?” Seokjin says.

“I would never have broken up with you over homemade kimchi,” the boy replies. There’s a beat of silence, before the boy colors, eyes widening at the realization of the implication behind his words. “I-I mean, I uhh, Taehyung says you’re amazing at cooking, I can’t even trust myself with a stove and I only do microwaves so… umm… no, what I meant-”

This time Seokjin cuts him off with a hand around the boy’s wrist. The boy’s ramble trails off and Seokjin smiles the first real one he’s had in two week. As much as Seokjin loved the boy’s calming presence before, he finds this flustered side of him undeniably adorable. God, he’s got it bad this time, and it isn’t even the alcohol thinking, Seokjin is sure.

“I’ve still got some kimchi for stew left,” Seokjin starts. “And my apartment is in the block next door. Care to join me for supper?"

The boy locks gaze with Seokjin, surprise evident on his face. "You’d cook for me?"

Seokjin nods, grinning despite the tightness in his cheeks from crying. "Come on, let me grab a few things and we can head back. By the way, I never got your name."

"Kim Namjoon, sophomore, English major” the boy says. “And you’re saving me from microwavable mac and cheese.” Seokjin laughs at that and Namjoon flashes him a dimpling smile. Seokjin thinks he can definitely get used to a smile like that.

“Call me hyung,” he replies. “And you’re helping me with my English script in exchange for the free food."

Seokjin decides then that this grocery run, is maybe the best idea Seokjin has had.

A/N: This prompt honestly caught my attention when I first looked at the prompt list because it’s kind of funny and cute all at once, so thank you so much annonie for choosing this prompt! (and namjin!! bc awkwardly-cute and kind namjoon is too hard to resist ♡)

Send me a prompt and a bangtan pairing, I’ll write you a short fic ♡

#networkbangtan #armiesnet #jinseoknet #rapmon-net #rapperlinenet #replies #anon #namjin #namjoon #seokjin #storyboard #bts #bangtan #bts fanfic #i'm sorry if i'm not that good at fluff stuff #i'm not sure if i did this prompt justice >_<

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coffeeselfies · 10 years ago

Photo

This is technically the “I think I need coffee,” selfie, but it’s been so long since I’ve posted that I figured anything was better than nothing.

I’m still trying to sleep through the inspiration of a very wonderful Bob Goff.

I. love. him.

But on to darker things, like my not-so-distant past!

Hahaha. So I was looking for an old assignment I e-mailed myself, and instead found a bunch of cryptic-heavy things I had texted one of my rarely used e-mails from my phone.

So of course I’m going to put them together, here, since I will probably just lose them otherwise. And because everyone on the internet loves reading the things I e-mail to, well, myself (WAIT, DO I NOT HAVE FRIENDS, WHAT IS MY LIFE). :p

4/12/12 - A veces no quiero hablar Por Nada con mis amigos. Solamente, "Hoy me dice ,estas loca, pero le esta loco a Juan!" Y mas Nada. Yo quiero hablar about cosas lejas. Ayer y Hoy hable con jean y veronika, solamente small talk primer. Pero despues, yo decido hablar about the things which I was.actually thinking about lately, the deeper layers. My thoughts were kind of awkward. Random. But I'm so glad I did, it lead to such good convos! As if, although my own thoughts or specific revelation (another one about love, of course), but led to true, sincere convos from the heart. Yes! Thank you, Lord. It's funny how I won't open up and ill get frustrated at the lack of depth in a conversation, yet really all I need to do in some cases is just jump right into the true issues. Ahh small talk kills me.

3/4/12 - He asked us a few questions: Who are you using?

How are you using them?

Physically. Sexually. Emotionally. Spiritually. Monetarily.

How can you restore that? Who's using you? Do you love money, and use people?

Or do you love people, and use money?

5/9/12 I think my id and superego are in conflict... I prefer that psychological term to saying that right vs wrong or my flesh is in rebellion, I guess. I just want to do all sorts of things that aren't of God, and i don't even know what to do. I think I need to just remember that life is short, and not about what I want. I'm getting too caught up in the worldly details, my visions going, my path, every time I think I'm expanding it, is getting more and more limited. Goodnight, from post Dave n busters with cartel, post umsl, going to school tmrw.

5/17/12 - "Can you keep a secret?" I should have realized by now that this question should be answered with fear and heaviness rather than curiosity.

5/29/12 - I dreamt that, after they thought I had left, my parents started fighting. Loudly, viciously, hatefully. I came down shouting, 'stop it, stop it!!' But their heads were already covered in blood, as I'd they were going to kill eachother. I never found out if they stopped or not, because dad called to me in real life from the other room. At first I wondered if I had really been shouting, and that's why he had contacted me, but no, it was just about bulk trash being today. Something sounds like its gnawing on something, I can hear and feel the vibrations of it through my pillow. Creepy.

6/4/12 - I have always been a compassionate person – making little houses for wounded snakes and worms – befriending the kid who’s got no one but himself for company, partnering with the girl who doesn’t really speak English. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve recognized that God has been faithful in granting me patience, mercy, and grace as well, and I know that these are not my own, but I am meant to share them with the very people God has give me a heart for – the downtrodden, broken, and outcast, and ultimately just humanity in general. This has, more or less, been my (more recent) life pursuit. To follow God’s Will for my life, regardless of where it takes me. So far that has meant giving hope to weary and often lost travelers of Amsterdam, mentoring at risk juveniles and raising awareness for human trafficking in Los Angeles, running English and Summer-School programs for Chinese immigrants in New York City, training and creating jobs for families in Haiti, as well as hosting events and creating opportunities for girls to leave brothels , learning how to run a business in Mexico while also helping out at various orphanages for disabled Children, and even just being there for my own family and friends when they’ve needed it most. It has meant months of Ministry Training schools, years of living in International Community Houses, working in roles that range from administration, to construction, to managerial, and an ever growing reliance on and relationship with Jesus Christ.I’ve been back in Saint Louis for a year now,

7/1/12 - Today started strangely, my head still a little blurry from the wine from the night before. I went to church, very late, where daren had a cupcake waiting for me. Why? Because Tuesday I had admitted I had experienced some downer bdays and he realized that it was my half birthday. Mom came, cried, we hugged, went to the church picnic.. I went home, told dad about her accident, and he just started weeping, so hard that his nose began to.bleed. I stroked his hair and.got a bit teary eyed.and then we got.on our knees and prayed... Later was feeling down and missing Luke, but jean got me out.

11/11/12 - And with your hands in the air, your feet barely touching ground, I take that smile to mean that life is finally turning 'round. And we laugh til we cry and we dance til we cant, and I feel free as can be each time I see that gleam in your eye. Then the secrets come out and its less about being blessed and more about a high. So when you're dancing I'm wondering if that's you, and when you're singing, I know you would be singing.the blues... But that gleam in your eye, well really its more of a glaze all along, I just saw what I wanted as you,strung me along.

12/20/12 -

Well the queens off her throne Hiding in a stairwell Feet strewn about the stairs Seeming barely aware That her kingdom awaits The king, divorced long ago He's crying Where's his iron fist? Seems he's traded it for sentiment "Pathetic!" He might self accuse If only his tears would let him Seems everything's a dream these days, Some hellish, some sweet But all

I used to find the idea of receiving a text in the middle of the night strange.

Now, after years of practice, I find it comforting, perhaps a reminder that I am not so alone as I would feel.

I hadn't realized this, of course, until now.

Now, when I wake up to nothing but darkness and my own thoughts.

Now, when, regardless of whether I toss myself awake at 2am or 4am, there is no message.

There's nothing to reassure me that there's another person in this world who is awake and eager to share a moment, even a small, electronic message with me.

1/11/13 - Today Gave my testimony. Adopt a block, played ninja. Eva likes hanging out with Christians. I break rules and have real convos with the disciples. Play bs. Go to angelus temple. Do food distribution. Met hosea who talked to us because he thought I was pretty, was super catholic, thought tim was my bf, etc etc etc

1/29/13 - Oh hi, I'm feeling cold and pathetic, and thought I would ... Email myself. That seems fitting. Somehow emailing yourself feels much more pathetic than just journaling. Right now I feel like I wish anyone, absolutely anyone , would sit down across from me. Even the old creepy man who, after asking a few non essential questions, left me for the warmth of the indoors, or... I don't know, a donut. Why do I feel like this.Lord? Is it because I am not so busy in school? Is it because Adam moved and despite the fact that I was barely hanging out with him last semester anyway, he was a crutch, and knowing that at 1am when I feel pathetic and lonely and confused, I can't even text someone I know would care? I mean. I know others would care. But we aren't exactly on that level just yet. What is my life? Why am I this way, and why do I want attention for it? Or why do I feel the need to find someone who would , what, save me ? From myself.? From my thoughts? Why am I seeking comfort in shallow things, the wings of friends and acquaintences and , frick, anything. Whywhywhywhy. I don't know. Is this what life is like for people? Lord, you are the one God, the only thing worth it, you are good when no one else is, am I getting caught up in things that I shouldn't, what am I even going on about? Life life life. It's all good, right

2/13/13 - (From a voice to text translator)

tomorrow I'm supposed to have an awkward cuddling session with my love scene manager and a love my phone from church I'm not sure how I get myself into these awkward situations but I definitely am good at it office tomorrow my uncle is moving in for a month but should be really awkward and I wish that I had a lock on my door and the house I'm learning that the things that I desire to have a find myself feeling empty when I do get them but I'm happy about it because it gets me clarity because it shows me that nothing else really matters is just kind of in my head really got the only thing that matters is the only thing I should pursue S I miss Adam I know you won't hang out that much before you left but now I guess I'm missing him double I don't know I don't know what I mean exactly but he's been gone a few weeks now and it's weird not having a best friend to talk to you about everything I have a lot of friends I have a lot of good friends but this is different it is different when you have someone who knows so much about you already and you don't have to tell the back story every time you tell them a new story because I already know who so I'm so is or why you feel that way or white was a bad idea that you did that so I'm also giving up ice cream and I'll call for lunch and I'm going to be time to eat a lot better subject tomorrow hopefully that I've also really just been wanting to be free of employment just live and everyday wake up and say what I want to do without help homeless people if I want to make something I want to sell another day love you babe I wanna go out with a friend I make my card I definitely don't want to spend 5 shifts a week at cartel but at the same time I don't feel like I'm self disciplined enough to not have a job I'm just getting tired of the creepers and the internet the kids off work as well as yeah I don't know ent from my HTC on the Now Network from Sprint!

8/18/13 -

Woke up really missing my dad. Go figure. Able to properly seduce emotions into a flat, shruggable denial ever since those first few days, and now, on the day I hoped to "stay strong" the most, I can't stop thinking of part of the song he wrote for Rachel, only now in regards to him - "I miss you, in the summertime.. I miss you, in the wintertime.. I miss you - all the time. I love my Rachel Sue." Only.. Daddy-o, or something. Ahhh.. Thank you, Lord, for such a kind father. Please help today glorify your name, run smoothly.. its so obvious we can't do it without you.

8/19/13 - I miss my dad. I am sad that I'll never have him burst in my room in November at three am with pancakes and lit birthday candles because he started thinking about some of the birthdays of mine he had missed, and wanted us to be able to celebrate together. I can't drink milk or even look at rootbeer without hearing him ask for some, so eagerly, and then sigh 'mmmm, now that's good,' so contentedly after his first sip. I miss that his crazy stories are not going to be things that I share in everyday conversation with my friends, because they're all old stories and it will seem out of place. who do i have to talk to about my dad? no one. it makes everyone sad. theres no one to just share his life with, aside from close family, and that will be limited. Everyone keeps telling me I'm so strong. What does that mean?I'm strong because I didn't start sobbing when I spoke? Because I'm smiling and laughing with you? Is that strength or disposition? Blake said that I was handling this better than anyone he's ever seen deal with death. What does that mean?

12/13/13

I see a sadness in your eyes.Behind the words, another message.The weight of your world becomes tangible, heavy, a thickness that weights me like a fog rolling in with, strapping invisible bricks to my body. Sometimes it's your words, blatant and straightforward, other times it's the sighs, the eyes that flash with emotion for just a moment, Did you know that's been seen? So many words, how can they be contained? I hear things you've never said, I see

1/03/14-

I've tried reflecting on 2013.. tried finding words which could somehow, miraculously encapsulate all of the growth, struggle, joy, depression, transformation, and experiences that it contained. It will be one of the most memorable years of my life, for many reasons, but it may also be one of those years that the full impact of may be lost on me for awhile now.In the past few weeks, I've been looking through journals, photos, and letters, remembering and realizing exactly how many changes this year has brought. Led my first missions trip, felt the loss of saying goodbye to one of my best friends, discovered what living with not just my dad, but my uncle Ken, five chickens, two cats, two ducks, a dog, and whoever else decided to stay over was like, became the missions director at middletree church, became an AUNT to the most beautiful little Emelia Skye, gained a new set of amazing and wonderful friends, played nurse/daughter/friend/staff member/sister/maid/hopsicecare/barista/student/leader to the point of confused identity and exhaustion, left cartel to become part of the Caife Caife family, DIDN'T leave the country for the first time in yeaaaaars, actually had to turn down exciting travel/jobs, speaking opportunities, and a leadership position with a non-profit (rather than seek them out, like usual), spent 7 months of the year experiencing the beauty, hardship, and love of caring someone who is dying in more and more ways every day, the trauma and release of my dad's actual death, the months following that are nothing but fog, sorrow, and blurred memories, the 14-state family road trip of a lifetime, moving to the Loop with Dani, experiencing being 'home for the holidays' without any actual family to be home with, and .. I don't know.. the Sara of today, who can look back on things only a year ago and find I have a whole new perspective on them. ..I only wrote one public (well, as public as it can be when I have a total of 8, predominately inactive followers) blog post in 2013, mostly talking about overcoming fear to become the person I feel I'm called to be. It was mostly inspired by revelations from the LA Dream Center trip, and I can't tell you how nice it is to be able to look back on the goals and dreams I wanted so desperately to become a reality, and to be able to say that, even through all the changes and sorrow of this year, that they were able to come to fruition. I'm not in to new years resolutions, but I do highly recommend kickstarting your year with an inspiring, transformative experience, which can set the trajectory for how you are going to live, what goals you will meet or fall short of (but still come closer to, which is still GROWTH, something to celebrate!) in the coming adventure of 2014. No matter what 2013 held, don't let fear of who you were just last month keep you from being who you want to be tomorrow. This little blog post is nice for me to re-read, because it reminds me of my fears, and what overcoming them, even one step at a time, can lead to. 2013 was a hard year for me, but it has also brought me to exactly where I feel I'm supposed to be right now.

1/29/14 - "I'm good" I wore the reassuring words like a blanket. Cover, no, smother whatever was beneath, within. Protect yourself from the cold, vulnerable words might slip thru the holes in the blanket... exposed means they can feel temperature of your meaning. Heavy, heat from the heart. you can feel their response. Pray for a warm touch, but there's always risk of icicle daggers

2/19/14

it's just that

I have a lot of thoughts

ideas, fears, ..a lot of places that I'd like to explore

But they feel so heavy when it's just me and them

feels like there’s a lot of trees to climb before i get to the clouds

and I'd like to share them with someone

who cares about them just as much as I do,

someone with just as much to risk,

who understands each side of the story.

And sometimes, I see planets in those eyes,

but have no rocketship to get me there

And I see that depth, but there's just no way to tap in

Im searching for someone to explore with

those infinite galaxies in your mind and mine.

Someone to make sense of it,

write poetry about it

but not get so caught up that it's just us - no

Always God first.

Always seeking his planets, his stars, his truth..

and maybe that's the adventure..

0 notes

multifandom-madnesss · 8 years ago

Text

A closer look at John and Sherlock’s conversation at 221B (Mission Johnlock is still a-go)

It’s 1am here, resp. 2.45am as of finishing this, I only saw the entire episode once and will surely be missing things due to exhaustion and feels, but I have to get this out now. Bear with me, folks :)

My initial reaction to the ending of TLD - the one relevant to Johnlock, at least - was one of immediate optimism. Not everyone shares this view. It wasn’t even 20 minutes after the episode had finished that some were bemoaning the end of any chance for Johnlock.

But listen: Mission Johnlock is still a-go.

And I’m going to show you why. Feat. transcripts and dialogue-reliant analysis.

We learn very soon into the episode that Mary is John’s subconscious, she is inside his head. An externalisation of his guilt and his way of arguing with himself. She also does deductions (but remember it is always John who thinks what she says).

Now: The Scene

Preceding this scene, we see Greg interviewing Culverton who cannot stop confessing. “I never realised confessing would be so enjoyable. I should have done it sooner.”

Side note: I theorise that one layer to this is forshadowing Sherlock’s confession.

Greg has had enough and decides to carry on tomorrow, even though Culverton isn’t tired. He emphasises that he is going to be so famous now that he can “break America”. [I’m sure there’s lots of subtext here but I will add to that later on, if someone else isn’t faster.]

CUT TO: INT. BAKER STREET

SHERLOCK: I had, of course, several other backup plans. Trouble is, I couldn’t remember what they were. And I hadn’t really anticipated that I’d hallucinate meeting his daughter.

MARY: Basically, he trashed himself on drugs so that you’d help him so that you’d have something to do, something doctory. You get that now?

SHERLOCK: Still a bit troubled by the daughter. It did seem very real. She gave me information I couldn’t have acquired elsewhere.

JOHN: But she wasn’t ever here?

SHERLOCK: Interesting, isn’t it? I have theorized before that if one could attenuate to every available data stream in the world simultaneously, it would be possible to anticipate and deduce almost anything.

JOHN: Hm. So you dreamed up a magic woman who told you things you didn’t know.

MARY: Sounds about right to me. Possibly, I’m biased.

SHERLOCK: Perhaps the drugs opened certain doors in my mind. (Beat.) I’m intrigued.

JOHN: Look, I know you are. Which is why we are all taking it in turns to keep you off the sweeties.

SHERLOCK: I thought we were just hanging out.

That was the first phrase that tripped me up. I’m too tired to look into it, but I vaguely recall something about Sherlock using this phrase before (or John) in reference to a date...

Will fill this in as soon as I recall/look it up.

JOHN: Molly will be here in 20 minutes.

SHERLOCK: Oh, I do think I can last 20 minutes without supervision.

JOHN: (thinks this over) Well, if you’re sure.

MARY: Christ, John, stay! Talk!

JOHN: Uh, sorry, it’s just, um, you know. Rosie.

SHERLOCK: Ah, yes, of course, Rosie.

MARY: Go and solve a crime together. Make him wear the hat.

JOHN: You’ll be okay for 20 minutes?

SHERLOCK: Yes - yes. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking of Rosie.

JOHN: No problem.

Sherlock: I should, er, come and see her soon.

JOHN: Yes.

MARY: Actually, he should wear the hat as a special tribute to me. I’m dead. I would really appreciate it.

(John goes to door.)

NOW. This. First of all, 20 minutes was also the time Sherlock estimated it would take Culverton’s daughter to arrive. (Which I’m sure has deeper meaning than I can currently put my finger on.)

[EDIT: @the-7-percent-solution, @teaandforeshadowing , @marcespot and @ifyouarelookingforbabynames might have cracked the code of the 20 Minutes (here). 20 Minutes into each of the episode, we get moments that support Johnlock being endgame ]

What’s going on here, then? Sherlock says he is going to be fine, not go back on the sweeties, if he is left alone for 20 minutes. John wants to go but Mary - a figment of his subsoncious mind, which has been made clear throughout this episode - tells him to TALK to Sherlock.

John, however, DEFLECTS immediately by pulling the daughter card. Sherlock suggests he should go see her (Rosie) soon, but I’m sure it’s obvious he also wants the side effect of seeing John at the same time.

John makes to leave, but Sherlock finds a way to hold him back:

SHERLOCK: Oh, by the way, the recordings will probably be inadmissible.

(John returns.)

JOHN: Sorry, what?

SHERLOCK: Well, technically, it’s entrapment, so it might get thrown out as evidence. Not that that matters. Apparently he can’t stop confessing.

JOHN: That’s good.

SHERLOCK: Yeah.

(John’s fist clenches. He turns to leave. Mary looks after him from behind Sherlock.)

Same situation: John is on his way out, Sherlock wants to stop him from leaving and asks:

SHERLOCK: Are you okay?

(John laughs)

JOHN: What, am I…? No, no, I’m not OK. I’m never going to be OK. And we’ll just have to accept that. It is what it is. And what it is is… shit.

MARY: John, do better.

Mary - John’s subconscious - wants John to do better, to TALK about his feelings. He reveals that he does not blame Sherlock for Mary’s death anymore.

JOHN: You didn’t kill Mary. Mary died saving your life. It was her choice. No one made her do it. No one could ever make her do anything. But the point is: you did not kill her.

SHERLOCK: In saving my life, she conferred a value on it. It is a currency I do not know how to spend.

Subtext: Sherlock thinks he was not worth being saved. He presumably feels residual guilt/etc., but the point is that Sherlock has a very low sense of self-worth right now.

(Pause. John smiles.)

JOHN: It is what it is.

(Sherlock averts his eyes. John takes a breath.)

JOHN: I’m tomorrow, six till ten. I’ll see you then.

SHERLOCK: Looking forward to it.

JOHN: Yeah.

John makes to leave again but this time Sherlock doesn’t seem to know how to hold him back. Well, Sherlock has been forgiven, even if he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. But the most central thing between them has been resolved.

Then... Irene Adler texts Sherlock. And John is a clever BAMF like he has been this entire episode and deduces what happened, with help from imaginary Mary. Read: John, in his mind, figures out what the text means, then confronts Sherlock about it. All of a sudden he wants to talk.

(John exits. The groaning text alert sounds. Sherlock takes a drink from his tea.)

MARY: That noise, that’s a text alert noise?

JOHN: What was that?

SHERLOCK: *looks about* Hmm? What was what?

MARY: That’s the text alert of Irene Adler. She’s the scary mad one, right?

JOHN: That noise.

SHERLOCK: What noise?

MARY: But she’s dead. (Gasps) Oh, I bet she isn’t dead! I bet he saved her. Oh my God. Oh, the posh boy loves the dominatrix. He’s never knowingly under-cliched, is he?

SHERLOCK: John?

JOHN: I’m going to make a deduction.

SHERLOCK: Oh, OK, that’s good.

JOHN: And if my deduction is right, you’re going to be honest and tell me, OK?

SHERLOCK: Ok. Though I should mention that it is possible for any given text alert to become randomly attached to…

JOHN: Happy birthday.

(Mary lowers her hands and smiles triumphantly. Sherlock swallows and nods.)

SHERLOCK: Thank you, John, that’s… very kind of you.

JOHN: Never knew when your birthday was.

SHERLOCK: Well, now you do.

Curious things about this:

John didn’t know Sherlock’s birthday.

Which makes Sherlock telling him his full name all the more intimate.

John was able to not only figure out that Irene Adler is still alive, he ALSO deduced why she was texting Sherlock on that day. Which is... wow, quite a leap, I think.

Sherlock doesn’t engage him. Now it’s Sherlock who DEFLECTS, the tables are turned.

JOHN: Seriously, we’re not going to talk about this?

SHERLOCK: Talk about what?

JOHN: I mean, how does it work?

SHERLOCK: How does what work?

JOHN: You and The Woman. Do you go to a discreet Harvester sometimes? (Sherlock closes his eyes.) Is there nights of passion in High Wycombe?

SHERLOCK: Oh, for God’s sakes, I don’t text her back!

John wonders if Sherlock is taking Irene out to DINNER - Harvester is a pub chain that advertises itself to families, as far as I can glean from my quick research. Fitting the ‘If you’re looking for baby names’ comment from ASiB. He even takes the metaphor of dinner = sex to the actual sex, aka nights of passion in High Wycombe.

As to High Wyncombe: Not certain. It does seem like an idyllic suburban area? It’s located between London and Oxford. It’s Wikipedia page wasn’t very forthcoming with connotations, so if anyone knows what this town signifies on a subtextual level, please let me know?

Sherlock, however, says he doesn’t text her back. Only later on, he admits that he sometimes does.

His denial is essential to make John conclude his arc this episode: Sherlock denying he texts back is rather vexing to John, who just lost his wife and has another view on seizing chances when they are presenting themselves to someone:

JOHN: (laughs) Why not? You bloody moron! She’s out there, she likes you and she’s alive! And do you have the first idea how lucky you are? Yes, she’s a lunatic, she’s a criminal, she’s insanely dangerous. (Mary changes sides in the room.) Trust you to fall for a sociopath!

MARY: Oh, married an assassin!

JOHN: But she’s, you know.

SHERLOCK: What?

(Mary crosses in front of them to the desk on Sherlock’s side.)

JOHN: Just text her back.

SHERLOCK: Why?

JOHN: Because Hugh Wycombe is better than you are currently equipped to understand!

Being with Irene, from John’s current guilt-striken pov, is better than not having anything with someone at all. Sherlock can’t see it because he hasn’t lost anyone like John just did.

SHERLOCK: I once caught a triple poisoner in High Wycombe.

JOHN: That’s only the beginning, mate.

THIS feels like a key to understanding this dialogue in its entirety, but I’m at least one rewatch way from connecting the dots.

So far, what I’m thinking re: mentioning the poisoner: At the hospital, Sherlock already gave away the ending by calling him the “triple poisoner”. So... the end is the beginning, mate.

The end is the beginning.

SHERLOCK: As I think I have explained to you many times before, romantic entanglement, while fulfilling for other people…

JOHN: Would complete you as a human being.

SHERLOCK: That doesn’t even mean anything.

JOHN: Just text her, phone her, do something while there’s still a chance, because that chance doesn’t last forever. Trust me, Sherlock, it’s gone before you know it. Before you know it!

(A shot of Mary. Sherlock looks down, glances up, then averts his gaze again. John keeps his eyes on Sherlock.)

To me, this looks like Sherlock is thinking about how to respond. John thinks he is interested in romantic entanglements with women, but Sherlock argues against this viewpoint. He insists that romantic relationships are not fulfilling for him.

Maybe, John’s tirade reminds Sherlock of how many chances HE missed - he didn’t confess at the tarmac, when he could have. Chances don’t last forever - they’re gone before we know it.

(Excuse me while I dry my tears for a second. GAH!)

JOHN: She was wrong about me.

SHERLOCK: Mary? How so?

JOHN: She thought that if you put yourself in harm’s way, I’d… I’d rescue you, or something. But I didn’t, not till she told me to. And that’s how this works, that’s what you’re missing. She taught me to be the man she already thought I was. Get yourself a piece of that.

SHERLOCK: Forgive me, but you are doing yourself a disservice. I have known many people in this world, but made few friends, and I can safely say…

Now - Sherlock is about to seize his chance. We can only speculate as to what, exactly, he is going to say, but it is going to be EMOTIONAL and very complimentary to John.

And what does John do? He DEFLECTS. He stifles any confession Sherlock would be able to make by making a confession of his own.

JOHN: I cheated on her. (Beat.) No clever comeback? (Turns to Mary.) I cheated on you, Mary.

(Sherlock considers this.)

JOHN: There was a woman on the bus, and I had a plastic daisy in my hair, I’d been playing with Rosie. And this girl just smiled at me. That’s all it was, it was a smile.

(Sherlock looks from Mary to John. He must have deduced that John is/has been seeing Mary.)

JOHN: We texted, constantly. You want to know when? Every time you left the room - that’s when. When you were feeding our daughter. When you were stopping her from crying - that’s when.

(Mary smiles sadly. John swallows.)

JOHN: That’s all it was. Just texting. (Sherlock stares ahead.) But I wanted more. (Sherlock looks up to John.) And do you know something? I still do. (Mary smiles.) I’m not the man you thought I was, I’m not that guy. I never could be. But that’s the point. (Voice breaking) That’s the whole point. Who you thought I was … is the man who I want to be.

In the beginning of TLD, John was weighed down by guilt over cheating on Mary, not treasuring her before she died. Now, he confesses, gets it off his chest. As Culverton exemplified, confessing makes you feel better.

Confessing your darkest secrets is a leitmotif this episode, if not this entire series.

John STILL wants more. He thinks that makes him an awful man, but he strived to be the man Mary thought he was. (Sidenote: As much as I hate the redemptive arc they have given Mary - retconning the reveal from HLV, imo - her redemtive arc was essential for John’s arc here.)

John admits to wanting more and Mary - a manifestation of his guilt - tells him it’s okay to move on.

MARY: Well, then… (smiling, looking up to the ceiling) John Watson.

(John swallows, tearing up.)

MARY: Get the hell on with it.

(Mary smiles, nodding. John stares into the empty space, then brings up a hand to cover his eyes and sobs. Sherlock sets his cup down, walks over to John, and pulls him into a gentle hug.)

SHERLOCK: It’s OK.

JOHN: It’s not OK.

SHERLOCK: No. But it is what it is.

(FADE TO BLACK.)

John is grieving, moving past the loss of his wife. He still wants more and he now has absolution/permission to “get on with it”.

This is essential for Johnlock to happen. John NEEDS to have forgiven himself for cheating on Mary, and he needs to have forgiven Sherlock for the part he played in Mary’s death.

John is now free to move on. Also, there is a hug from Sherlock in it for him.

But the scene isn’t over yet.

[EDIT] It continues after a Sexy Discretion Shot.

As @escaroles points out here, the Fade To Black is significant. In times before depictions of sex and intimacy were common on screen, film language had other means of coding it. I recall a lot of trains entering tunnels from my film history classes (and hm, did we have such shots on Sherlock? *scratches head* We might have...).

So the way TLD fades to black, then re-enters the scene via an establishing shot of the building - which we don’t need since we KNOW where we are - before cutting to Sherlock and John getting dressed (parallel to Lady Smallwood and Mycroft before she makes advances) at the very least EVOKES the style of Sexy Discretion Shots. For more on this, I highly recommend you read escaroles’s meta :) [/Edit]

SHERLOCK: So, Molly’s going to meet us at this cake place.

JOHN: Well, it’s your birthday. Cake is obligatory.

SHERLOCK: Oh, well, I suppose a sugar high is some sort of substitute.

JOHN: Behave.

Once John has finished crying into Sherlock’s chest (*contented sigh*), John reveals that they are meeting Molly at a cake place.

So, John finds out it’s Sherlock’s birthday and changes the plan of Molly minding Sherlock at 221B to going out to celebrate. CAKE was what John used to get Sherlock to attend the christening, but cake is also poisonous (source of Mofftiss saying this, if I remember correctly, to follow).

It’s 2am, so I’ll leave any cake-related deductions for... later. Or someone cleverer than me.

Anyway, Sherlock calls cake a SUBSTITUTE, which reminds me of Balloon John, also a SUBSTITUTE.

And now, *drum roll*, the texting reprise:

SHERLOCK: Right then. You know, it’s not my place to say, but… it was just texting. People text. Even I text. Her, I mean. Woman. Bad idea. Try not to, but, you know, sometimes… It’s not a pleasant thought, John, but I have this terrible feeling from time to time that we might all just be human.

JOHN: Even you?

SHERLOCK: No. Even you.

JOHN: Cake?

SHERLOCK: Cake! Oh, um…

JOHN: What? What is it? What’s wrong?

(Sherlock straightens, revealing the hat.)

JOHN: (laughs) Seriously?

SHERLOCK: I’m Sherlock Holmes - I wear the damn hat! (exiting) Isn’t that right, Mary?

(John turns to the room, but it’s empty. The camera pans back to the chairs and the still burning fire.)

I’m sure there are loads more layers to this than I can see atm, but there already are plenty.

Sherlock lied. Said he doesn’t text back - he doesn’t need romantic entanglements. BUT HE IS HUMAN. He used to equate himself with a machine, which is why John asks, “Even you?” Yes, Sherlock is human. He texts Irene back sometimes, but he thinks it’s a bad Idea. “It was just texting”, however. No passionate nights, no dinner. No sex.

John wanted more, so he cheated emotionally. Sherlock is also human, and did text Irene back. We saw it once in ASiB, and now I’m dying to know what he said when texting back, if he did it more than once, which his wording suggests.

Anyway, point is: this is one of the misunderstandings. John’s opinion on Sherlock and romance is still that he shuns all entanglements. But Sherlock is only human. He is susceptible to romance... just not from women. Not his area, after all.

The more poignant moment is, however, when Sherlock tells John that he, John, is only human, too. He is tempted, and he makes bad decisions. Like Sherlock texting Irene is a bad idea, Sherlock giving into temptation, John texting E also was a very human thing to do.

Sidenote: notice the APPLES in TST and TLD? A bowl of apples is in the shot with Sherlock in Morocco, and another bowl of likewise red apples is in his therapist’s office.

Theme: temptation. Callback to the apple in John’s bedsit in ASiP.

Sherlock makes this emotional point, compliments John again, or rather defends what John thinks is an awful behaviour on his part, and what does John do?

Right. He DEFLECTS. With cake.

Because god forbid we actually TALK about feelings.

Summing up

This scene could never have ended with a love confession because it wouldn’t actually move the plot along. John first needed to address his guilt and grief, needed to CONFESS to his cheating. Mary - aka John - forgives himself afterwards and gives himself permission to move on. Had Sherlock said anything relating to his own feelings prior to that, John wouldn’t have been in a position to respond in kind. John would have rejected Sherlock’s advances, and where would that leave us? Not with Johnlock, that’s for sure.

Reinserting Irene reinforces the one misunderstanding that has stood between John and Sherlock for two bloody seasons: John thinks Sherlock is/was interested in Irene, i.e. that he is straight and not interested in anything John might have to offer.

The talk is incomplete. John and Sherlock both DEFLECTED, they both only admitted to selective aspects, not to the full picture.

The end is the beginning. The end of Mary is the beginning of Johnlock.

And I will stand by this interpretation until this entire show ends without ever having made Johnlock canon. Consider this my vow, folks.

What the future holds

I’m sure there will be a reprise of this. And then, the nature of Irene and Sherlock’s “relationship” will have to be clarified, John will realise Sherlock isn’t interested in High Wycombe with Irene because she is the wrong gender, not because he is categorically against entanglements. Now that John is allowing himself to move on from Mary, John will be able to respond once that day comes.

Also, heteronormativity will lead the majority of the audience to believe Sherlock really is in love with Irene. It’s heterobaiting. Remember, this is the same author who gave us the exchange at Battersea Power Station. “Look at us both.” That scene went right over most viewers’ heads. These viewers will now feel ever more secure in their belief that this is a Bromance, nothing more.

But I, for one, still believe that the rug will be pulled from beneath their feet.