#no spoilers but also you can count the number of stars and figure it out LMAO

[chimerafflesia]

this cannot be the same brain that very nearly reached king of games back in november. I'm struggling in PLATINUM right now this is so embarrassing

[darling-i-read-it]

Protection

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: the frat party, a guy being really creepy about flirting and mentions of roofies, descriptions of vomit (briefly), spoilers for insidious 

Author’s Note: I started and restarted this a bunch of times but couldn’t figure out a way to do it that I really liked. I hope this is okay for right now, I appreciate you guys giving me your ideas! Requested: by anon, Heya I love your Dalton Lambert fics brw Had 2 ideas and was wondering if 1. you could write a headcanon/oneshot for Dalton Lambert x Reader where she's all shy/timid when they first meet and then the whole floating away and demon attack thing happens and he wants to protect the reader and from there, their relationship escalates? 2. Smut/Slightly suggested hc for Dalton Lambert x Reader or a relationship HC for them pla You don't have to write both but just had some ideas Requested: by anon, Ello!!! Can you do a fic for Dalton Lambert x Reader where Dalton is kinda like protective if the reader please? The reader is probably round the same age if not a couple years younger and is shy and all but does warm up to him eventually I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator (not my gif)

Dalton’s eyes followed you as he gazed from behind his hair. He had seen you around the building, specifically the floor he was living on. There was a living room area that no one ever actually used at the end of the hall and he had run into you there once or twice, usually in passing. He didn’t realize you had a class together until the second week of class, when he saw your face attentively listening in the back of the classroom. Your lips were pursed with concentration but were so focused on the teacher he didn't think you could see anything else. That’s why he felt so comfortable starring; he truly believed you had no idea. 

The class droned on. It was a gen ed requirement that he would google the answers to. He could sit with his sketchbook open and lightly brushing his pencil over the paper. He didn’t realize he was drawing you until he looked down. He was then made consciously aware of how he saw you. Poised, shy, timid, pretty. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” the professor said, breaking you out of your perfectly sculpted listening gaze. Your eyes went wide with what Dalton assumed was fear. “Do you know the answer?” He looked back up at the board. Some slideshow with a lot of numbers, none that made any sense to him. When had he stopped taking notes? 

You looked down at your own notes. You knew the answer but for some reason it was stuck in your throat. You cleared it, attempting to force the word out of your mouth. You had to look away before you could answer. 

“237,” you offered, voice quiet. 

The professor’s gaze was predatory. Dalton didn’t like the way he was gazing at you, like you were something to be conquered, someone to be broken down. He had never enjoyed the teachers who leached into clearly shy students. The professor nodded, moving along, giving you neither a praise or a follow up question. Your face was now glued down. He had clearly startled you out of your shell. 

When class ended, Dalton got up first. He didn't have as much to put away because he wasn’t actually paying attention. He weaved against the flow of traffic to the back of the room where you were carefully placing your things back into your bag. 

“Don’t worry about him,” he said, without thinking. He should’ve thought twice about letting you know he was watching you but the words had already escaped his mouth. “He’s a dick.” You looked up at Dalton, eyes pretty and doe like. You cleared your throat, another instance of forcing yourself to speak when no words were coming out. 

You nodded instead. 

“You live in the same building as me right? Miller Hall?” You nodded again, this time a sound coming with it. 

“Yeah. Dalton right?” Your voice was still quiet but he smiled at the reassurance that he was also noticed. 

“Yeah. Y/N?” You nodded back at him. You stood up from your chair, putting your bag over your shoulder. “Are you going back there? I don’t mean to ask in a creepy way, swear.” He chuckled nervously. “I was just heading back and was wondering if you wanted some company.” Suddenly he was the shy one. He felt like cowering under your gaze, revoking his invitation and running out the door. He tried to remember what his mom had said about making friends. All he had right now was Chris and she had other friends. He needed to branch out. Branching out could help him with his sleep issues. 

“Sure,” you said finally, voice surprisingly pleasant. “This is my last class today.” He smiled, all teeth and gums, while he moved out of the way so you could go first. 

“Me too. I took way too many early classes.” 

“Same,” you said. You walked out the door and he followed quickly behind to keep in pace with you. It was a nice fall day, leaves falling down and gathering in the grass. Weeds were overgrown, no one was lingering out in the cold. The walk back would be uneventful but peaceful. “How do you like the building?” 

“It’s fine. We live too high up for my taste.” 

“And the elevators are always broken,” you said. 

“Yes! That should be illegal when there are so many floors.” The comradery broke some tension between the two of you. Your smile lost some tension. 

“Do you have a roommate?” you questioned. 

“I did but not anymore. Her name’s Chris so we got mixed up on the gender assignments,” he explained. “You?” 

“Not currently, no. I was lucky and didn’t have anyone to start with.” You held your bag close to your side. Dalton weaved through the cobblestone walkway that had quickly become familiar to him. “The building settles a lot at night. It can get spooky by myself.” 

“I hear that,” he muttered. “I still have a nightlight.” He wasn’t sure why he had admitted that you didn’t give him any crazed reaction. 

“It can get dark,” you admitted. Your lack of judgment made him feel a little bit safer as the walk continued. He wondered how many doors down you were. He wondered if maybe you would be up for a sleepover later in your friendship, just so that neither of you get scared anymore. His mind wandered and he didn’t reel any thoughts back in as you asked him about his art. 

-

Dalton enjoyed hanging out with you. He hadn’t known a person to sit quietly with him while he worked and you worked and you both just enjoyed having someone else there. You would walk down to his room, bare feet padded on the hardwood floor, and knock on his door, with your textbooks tucked under your arm.

You got the spare bed while he sketched, playing some music quietly from his music. This is how you would spend time together. Talking when necessary but never feeling pressured to. It was easy to get lost in silence when Dalton got zoned into his work. 

Chris opened the door without knocking.

“We should go to the frat party tonight,” she announced instead of saying hello. You and Dalton looked up. You even jumped at the sudden change of atmosphere. You were nose deep in work. You had met Chris in passing and knew she was friends with Dalton. She had always been kind to you, if not a little invasive. You didn’t mind here though. 

“All of us?” you asked, voice quiet. 

“I think you need to get out of your shell. Both of you. You’re so preoccupied with things going on in your brain it seems like I can never get you to hang out like normal people.” Dalton shared a wary glance with you. 

“I don’t know Chris,” he said. 

“I do.” She took a step forward. “What’s the worst that could happen? You get drunk and have to come home? It’s boring and we leave early?” 

“Frat parties have never exactly been safe for girls,” you told her, caution laced in your voice. 

“I’ll be there,” Chris said. 

“So will I,” Dalton said, with more umph. You met his gaze. There was a glaze of protection over his eyes that made you feel better about going. It also left you with a small warm pit in your stomach, something akin to appreciation or adoration. You gave him a warm smile. 

“I don’t know guys,” you said. 

“C’mon. You have gotta get out eventually. Why not sooner rather than later?” 

Dalton gave you a look again. He was asking you with his eyes if you were okay with it. After spending some time together in silence, you had gotten used to reading each other's expressions. You shrugged. He narrowed his eyes. You opened yours wider, shaking your head in disinterest. 

“Okay no more Jedi mind talk,” Chris said. “Yes or no?” 

“We’ll go,” you said. Dalton tried to hide his surprise. 

“Sounds like we’re going then.”

-

The frat party was loud. It was so loud that you could barely hear yourself think over the people screaming at each other, stumbling over the furniture and spilling drinks onto the ground. It was slippery and unwelcoming. It was nothing you had ever actually experienced before. You tried so hard to keep yourself out of these situations so you didn’t have to be uncomfortable for an extended period of time. 

You found yourself standing closer to Dalton, as close as you had ever actually been to him. There is something special about being stuck in an unwelcoming space and becoming even closer with people you wouldn’t have otherwise been so close with. Chris pushed forward. 

You found a mostly empty doorway and gathered like you were going to make a game plan or something. 

“Let’s be nosy upstairs,” Chris said. You immediately cramped up with the thought of someone walking in on you being in their space. “We’re already here. Why not? You wanna stay down here?” Chris questioned. You could tell she was trying to be helpful. You really liked her and appreciated her excitement but was already way too far out of your comfort zone. 

“You can go. I can go find some crackers or something,” you said to Dalton. He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. 

“I can stay with you.”

“No, no. There could be something up there that’s fun. Bring me down a present.” He shared a glance with Chris. 

“See? She’s giving you permission Dalton, let’s go.” You rolled your eyes playfully and shoved him forward a little. He looked back between the two of you but Chris was already grabbing his arm. “She’ll keep her phone on.” She dragged him by the arm upstairs. 

You turned back to the crowd. There were a few people there you recognized from class but no one you were friends with. You cleared your throat and straightened your back. You could do this. You could be a college student who goes and gets a shitty drink and lurks in the background. 

The kitchen was less packed, which you were grateful for. There were straggled, circling the kitchen island. There was a bunch of finger food that you didn’t exactly trust. You found a punch bowl, which you didn’t trust either, but grabbed a solo cup anyway. You tried to slink back, not make too much attention as you waited for Chris and Dalton to come back down. 

You walked back towards the main room where the music was being played. You bumped into others who paid you no mind. The dance floor was the best for people to watch. There were girls there with pretty makeup and interesting outfit choices. They danced, eyes closed, smiling with each other as they drank. The boys watched as well, eyes traveling further down than yours were. 

“Hey.” You turned around, not noticing at first that someone was talking to you. “You’re in my 201 math class right?” 

A boy you didn’t recognize was leaning against the wall beside you. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to place his face. He had a dirty expression on his face that you didn’t like. He was taller than you, looking down and it felt like you were cowering. You shook your head. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“No, I think you are. With Straus?” Maybe you just didn’t pay enough attention to your fellow students in that class. You grabbed the solo cup tighter, holding it to your chest. You thought of all the stories of boys slipping things in girls drinks while they’re unaware. The haunting thought lingered. You suddenly wished Dalton was around and then was startled with how deep your connection with him was. You hadn’t known each other long but you supposed it was just something about living with no real friends in a new environment. 

“It’s a big class,” you lied. He gave an exaggerated nod. 

“Yeah tots.” He moved closer to you. You took a step back and hit the wall. You glanced up to the stairs, unable to find a familiar face. 

Upstairs, Dalton was laying underneath the bed of Nick the Dick. He could see the bathroom through his eyeline, the feet of a boy that should not be there. The puke pooled on the ground, next to his weathered shoes. Nick was standing at the mirror, saying something stupid that Dalton wasn’t listening to. His breathing was weathered. He looked at the door, wishing Chris to come save him, wishing he had brought you upstairs. 

What is that? 

What is that? 

Nick opened the door and left. He crawled out from underneath the bed feverishly and looked up, just to be met with the boy's face again. This time he puked all over Dalton whose eyes shut in surprise and disgust. He scrunched his hands together, trying to throw aside the vision. 

The door opened. Chris emerged. 

“Dalton?” He looked over at him. “Dalton? Are you okay?” He looked back up. Nothing. Nothing. He took a deep breath, eyes still wide and crazed. He got up. Chris was still talking but he pushed past her, mumbling something about how they needed to leave. He barreled down the stairs, pushing past someone as he went. 

He looked across the room. He was still reeling from whatever happened in the bathroom. All the faces looked like a blur. He searched for something familiar, needing to find the face he was looking for. 

Finally he eyes set on you. You were in the corner of the room, being boxed in by some guy he didn’t recognize. The man had an arm over your head, leaning in real close. He could see your face from behind him. 

Dalton pushed forward. He put his hand on the man's arm. You were immediately relieved to see him, even though all the color had drained from his face. 

“What’s going on?” Dalton asked.

“Nothing man.” He noticed the firm grip you had on the top of your drink. This man’s words were not slurred. He was sober and Dalton decided he was dangerous. 

“Is he bothering you?” Dalton asked, eyes going back to you. You didn’t say anything. Your voice remained dead in your throat. If you couldn't talk in the best of times, you couldn’t talk now. 

“Everythings fine,” the guy promised. 

“Let’s go,” Dalton said. He still had cold sweats running down his face. 

“Woah. We were having a conversation here.” Dalton met the guy's face. He didn’t recognize him and he knew his thought process wasn’t sound. He punched the guy anyway. 

You gasped, taking a step back. The guy stumbled back but Dalton had already grabbed your arm and pulled you back into the crowd. It was too loud and no one noticed that there was now some annoyed man trying to follow you through the party. Chris was at the front door waiting. You met her eyes. 

“What happened?” she asked, trying to keep up with Dalton’s fast paced walk. 

“Some guy was scaring her.” 

“Huh?” 

“He was being a lot,” you promised. Even as you walked back towards your building, Dalton’s iron grip was on your arm. 

“What happened before that?” Chris asked. Her voice was stern. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Don’t worry about it right now. Let’s just get back.” You glanced back at the now fading party. You couldn’t see the guy anymore. Dalton had a hard look on his face that you had never seen before. 

“We actually do need to talk about that,” Chris said. “Something happened in there.” 

“We don’t need to get into that,” he promised. He stopped in the middle of the courtyard. You glanced around the dark night. Campus was mostly silent. You saw the security cart go around the corner. 

“You punched someone!” Chris said. 

“He was bothering her!” he said. 

“But what happened to you up there!” You looked between the two of them. He took a deep breath. 

“I saw someone in the bathroom that wasn’t there. I’m having sleep issues.”

“Were you sleeping?” you asked, genuinely concerned. He shook his head. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. He turned his body toward you completely. You nodded. You wouldn’t tell if you actually were. You felt invaded and uncomfortable. The feeling lingered around like that man was hiding behind you. 

“I’m okay.” He grabbed your hand. 

“Are you sure?” You nodded. Chris looked between the two of you. 

“Positive,” you promised. “Are you okay?” He wasn’t but he didn’t say it. He knew that you and Chris would hound him and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He didn't know what he felt about anything right now. 

He nodded. 

Chris rolled her eyes. 

“Are you gonna buy that?” 

“For right now, yeah,” you said. Dalton gave you apologetic eyes. You held his hand, comfortable with it there. Chris took a deep breath. 

“Alright fine. Are you gonna be okay tonight?” He nodded, looking back at her. She nodded slowly and turned to the building. It wasn’t far now. “Maybe we all just need to go to sleep. They spiked the punch or something.” He didn’t want to mention he had nothing to drink so he stayed silent. She gestured for you two to follow her. 

Your hand remained in Dalton’s. He was holding onto it for dear life as his mind reeled. He had the sudden urge to talk to his mom but he pushed it aside. He was a grown man now. He could deal with this alone or with his friends. You took the elevator, that was gratefully working. Chris stopped off at her floor and gave you both goodnights and I’m sorries. 

Finally you were on your floor. 

“Thank you for helping me back there,” you said. You had been meaning to say it but the words kept getting stuck in your head. 

“Of course. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you,” he said. 

“Same.” You walked down to his room. He wanted to drop you off but you kept going past your room, no conversation needed. Neither of you wanted to sleep in a lonely room. He pushed open his door, the silence so loud. You sat down on the spare bed. 

“I’m gonna get changed,” he said. “You’re welcome to stay. I don’t think I wanna be alone right now.” 

“Me too.” He grabbed some clothes and walked to the bathroom. 

When he walked down the hallway he thought about how he wasn’t there for you when you needed him. He had been upstairs, scared of his own accord. Something could have happened. He slowly undressed behind a shower curtain. He could’ve stayed and asked you to leave but he didn’t. 

Whatever this was, whatever was going on in his head, he had no intention of getting you involved. 

None. Not if it meant hurting you.

[nymphomena]

Why I think Qian is demisexual and demiromantic

(from an aroace person)

Disclaimer: none of what I claim are confirmed just headcanon

⚠️Spoilers Ahead⚠️

So this confused lil bby girl is (according to me) asexual. But not only that but also demisexual and maybe aromantic as well.

And I have proof to back this theory up.

So starting off, our dear Qian doesn't seem to be interested in relationships at all. I feel like this is common sense for every viewer. It's simply one of his characteristics.

Whether it's because of his rough upbringing, multiple traumatic experiences he's had, both mental and physical or not, he doesn't seem to actively want to search for partners and/or a relationship. It doesn't matter anyway. That's just how he is.

Exhibit A

The only time that changes is when San Pang urges him to seek a partner with the intention of marriage for conveniences sake. He doesn't want to do it for himself. He does it for his sister and Zhiyuan's 'sake'.

But ofc he makes excuses for himself (which spoiler alert: is a common experience aspecs have)

But he agrees to the match making process but during it he feels such aversion (which is linked to trauma) and it's so severe that he physically and literally feels sick to his stomach.

Exhibit B

The other time I felt a particular kinship to Qian was when Zhiyuan came out to him. Qian seems extremely confused by Zhiyuan's serious tone and intense feeling he seems to be harbouring. While there is an obvious homophobic sentiment mixed in his words as well, his overall confusion resonated with me.

Bless his soul he doesn't understand alloromantic people 😭

Exhibit C

Same scene as the previous one. Zhiyuan tries to literally and figuratively fish for information on Qian's relationship status and/or history.

Of course Qian doesn't take the hint and responds in the most acearo way possible.

Zhiyuan tries again (bless his soul too) but gets an even more acearo response in return. For anyone who might not be familiar with the aspec community this response is one way most of us fend off invasive questions like those. We shrug off curiosities by claiming life is too busy to fall in love. (Again this is not the case for everyone but it can be pretty common as an experience)

No Qian, a movie star doesn't count you silly bean 😭

Exhibit D (and most concrete in my opinion)

Confession 2.0

This is a pivotal moment for our protagonists. Zhiyuan wants confirmation of the status of their relationship but Qian hesitates for a number of reasons, namely, their brother status but also his romantic orientation.

In this is a scene many felt confused or frustrated by Qian's delayed actions. But to me it made perfect sense. He's literally spelling it out for us. He can't see himself being in a romantic relationship much less with Yuan. So he makes a choice and it's the right one for him in the end.

Exhibit E

For this example we have Zhiyuan stating the obvious for everyone 😅

My dude wanted a big fancy restaurant, flowers and a kiss at the end of their date. Qian on the other hand doesn't seem to realize or prepare for that. Instead he makes due with what he had on hand which creates a hilarious outcome 🤣

[project1939]

100+ Films of 1952

Film number 113: Models, Inc. 

Release date: May 19th, 1952. 

Studio: Mutual, distributed by Universal 

Genre: noir 

Director: Reginald Le Borg 

Producer: Bernard W. Burton, Hal E. Chester 

Actors: Howard Duff, Colleen Gray, John Howard 

Plot Summary: A beautiful young con-artist enrolls in a modeling school to seduce its wealthy owner, but when her old boyfriend gets out of prison, he has a scheme of his own. Can she really keep her criminal past away from her new rich husband? 

My Rating (out of 5 stars): ***½  

OK, this one was fun! For a lower budget noir, this is about as good as it can get. The acting was above par, the story was interesting, and we were blessed with amazing cheesy dialogue and a thrilling ending. It’s far from a towering achievement in film, but it’s hella entertaining. I’m definitely watching it again. (Some minor spoilers) 

The Good: 

Rusty, the con-woman at the center of everything. Both her character and the actress who played her were perfect for this kind of film. First of all, Rusty is a great name for a shady woman in a noir! She’s basically morally bankrupt, but it sure is fun to watch her. 

Howard Duff as Lennie the ex who has been part of Rusty’s crimes. He recently impressed me in Steel Town, where he left me wishing he had gotten the girl in the end. Here he plays a bad guy with strength and aplomb. You love to hate him. 

John Howard was effective as John Stafford, the millionaire in the modeling industry who succumbs to Rusty’s charms. 

This was a classic sleazy crime-ridden noir in all the best ways, 

A terrifically cheesy romance montage- as Rusty and John begin dating we see them go to a horse race, then an art museum, then a classical music concert, and finally a shopping scene where John lets her pick out lots of expensive clothes. 

One of my favorite things about noirs is their tendency to have odd everyday characters randomly appear for comic relief or suspenseful delays. This one had a great scene near the end with a man in a bank and a slow customer ahead of Rusty as she's trying to flee. 

The details about the modeling school classes were a treat to watch. (Go to the bottom of this post for the details!)

The ending was Perfect! 

During a climactic shootout in an alley, we get glimpses of ads papered to the walls. As a character dodges bullets, a sign right next to him has a pouring teapot and reads, “Time for Tea,” which killed me. 

There was so much great hilariously “noir” tough-talkin' dialogue. Like- “You can’t blow into town, promise me a job modeling your crummy lingerie, and after a fast pitch slough it off as a sweet dream.” Also, “That’s right, Lennie, neither of us has changed very much. Oh, a better suit or a dress maybe, but in here where it really counts, we’re still the same kids, looking for shortcuts to the rainbow.” 

The Bad: 

There was maybe a bit too much vagueness of what actually went on with the photo taking racket Lennie starts. I know censors at the time couldn’t outright say prostitution was involved, but... 

How could John Stafford, a man who made a fortune creating models, be so stupid as to fall in love with Rusty? Her intentions seemed fairly transparent. I know love can blind a person, but you’d think he'd been around the block enough to figure it out. 

During a police car chase scene, you could clearly see that no one in either car was wearing a seatbelt. Afterall, seatbelts wouldn’t be mandatory for fourteen years! (The resources I could find said it was 1966.) It sent me into a mini-panic just watching it! 

------As a silly bonus, here’s the schedule on the chalkboard at the Stafford Modeling School: 

9:30-10:30 Poise and Personality 

10:30-10:45 Exercise 

10:45-11:30 Hairstyling 

11:30-12:45 Posture 

12:45-2:00 Makeup 

2:00-2:45 Modeling Stance 

So there’s 15 minutes of exercise, but 75 minutes for posture? 

[clairelsonao3]

GSNBTR Playlist

Note This isn't a "soundtrack" per se, although some songs definitely could be. There's also no coherence in terms of style. They are, however, all thematically related to the plot, and they do follow the general order of the chapters. That said, they continue on past what I've already posted, so there is some risk of the lyrical content containing mild spoilers (in particular, the last song on the list). Listen at your own risk.

Citizen Cope - Sideways

You know it ain't easy/For these thoughts here to leave me/There are no words to describe it/In French or in English

These feelings won't go away/They've been knockin' me sideways/They've been knockin' me out lately/Whenever you come around me

Kate Rusby - Sho Heen

Sleep my friend oh I'll watch o'er you/The moon is here and the stars adore you/Close your eyes and sleep tonight/Oh my blessed angel, here again, goodnight

The Four Seasons - Dawn (Go Away) 

Dawn/Go away back where you belong/Girl we can't/Change the places where we were born/Before you say/That you want me/I want you to think/What your family would say/Think/What you're throwing away/Now think what the future would be with a poor boy like me

Damien Rice - Cannonball

There's still a little bit of your ghost, your witness/Still a little bit of your face I haven't kissed/You step a little closer each day/That I can't say what's going on

Judy Collins - Someday Soon

My father says that he will leave me cryin'/I would follow him right down the roughest road I know/Someday soon/Goin' with him someday soon

Bradley Cooper - Maybe It's Time

Maybe it's time to let the old ways die/Takes a lot to change a man/Hell, it takes a lot to try/Maybe it's time to let the old ways die

Alexi Murdoch - Breathe

Don't forget to breathe/You know you are here/But you find you want to leave/So don't forget to breathe

Ciaran Lavery - Left For America

When I'm ready I'll give you the sign/You can gather me up like a quilt/Tell my mother I tried, tell my cousin I lied/I was holding your hand out of guilt/'Cause they never paid my way/I bought it/I never stole your heart/I sought it/I never knew my place, anyway

Bill Evans - My Foolish Heart

Chet Baker - Let's Get Lost

Let's get lost/Lost in each other's arms/Let's get lost/Let them send out alarms/And though they'll think us rather rude/Let's tell the world we're in that crazy mood

Sarah Jarosz - Build Me Up From Bones

I held every inch of you/I wrote every line for you/I made time when time was all but gone/You're the love I've always known

Fairport Convention - Si Tu Dois Partir, Va T'En (Peel Session)

French: Mais si tu dois partir, va-t'en/Si non, tu dois rester la nuit

English: If you’ve got to go, go now/Or else you’ve got to stay all night

(Note: The “famous poet” mentioned by Erica in Chapter 18 is Bob Dylan, of course, and these are some of the only lyrics that actually appear (in English) in the story. But the fact that the most famous version of the song is in French is a cool bonus.)

Let's Go Sailing - Come Home Safely

Come home safely tonight/I will not sleep until I hear you counting steps/We still have time left, don’t we now?/Don’t we now?

Nickel Creek - Tomorrow is a Long Time

Yes, and only if my own true love was waiting/Yes, and if I could hear his heart softly poundin'/Only if he was lying by me/Then I'd lie in my bed once again

(Yes, it's another Dylan cover. I'm the worst.)

Anais Mitchell & Jefferson Hamer - Geordie

I wish I had you in a public square/The whole town gathered around me/With my broad sword and a pistol too/I'd fight you for the life of my Geordie

Joseph - White Flag

I could surrender but I'd/Just be pretending, no I'd/Rather be dead than live a lie/Burn the white flag

Coldplay - The Scientist 

I was just guessing at numbers and figures/Pulling the puzzles apart/Questions of science/Science and progress/Do not speak as loud as my heart

ZAZ - Si jamais j'oublie 

French: Si jamais j'oublie/Les jambes à mon cou/Si un jour je fuis/Rappelle-moi qui je suis/Ce que je m'étais promis

English (translation mine): If ever I forget/Run away/If ever I flee one day/Remind me who I am/What I promised myself

R. City feat. Adam Levine - If I Got Locked Away

If I got locked away/And we lost it all today/Tell me, honestly/Would you still love me the same?/If I showed you my flaws/If I couldn't be strong/Tell me, honestly/Would you still love me the same?/Now tell me, would you really ride for me?/Baby, tell me, would you die for me?/Would you spend your whole life with me?/Would you be there to always hold me down?/Tell me, would you really cry for me?/Baby, don't lie to me/If I didn't have anything/I wanna know, would you stick around?

Meg Baird - Willie O'Winsbury

No, it wasn’t with a lord nor a duke nor a knight/Or a man of wealth and fame/But it was with Willie O’Winsbury/I could bide no longer alone

The outline of the story is fluid, as always, so this is subject to additions!

[alfvaen]

Novel Spark

It's the beginning of a new year, but it's also the beginning of a new month. In which I read a number of books. Guess what? I'm going to tell you about them.

Possible spoilers for Jack L. Chalker's Dancing Gods novels, and Glenda Larke's Stormlord series.

John Scalzi: Agent To The Stars, completed December 2

John Scalzi seems like a nice guy online (though we've seen that one before), but I've been back and forth on his books. I've read the first two Old Man's War books and was kind of meh on the second one so I'm setting that series aside for now. Redshirts was great, though, and I read The Kaiju Preservation Society from the library and liked it too. I've been interested in Starter Villain, and when my wife picked it up I was going to put it on my shelf (well, virtual shelf since it was an ebook) when I remembered that I had put Agent To The Stars on after The Ghost Brigades. I'd read his story about how he came to write this book in the first place, etc., and I was willing to give it a try. And after a somewhat grim fantasy like The Briar King, some kind of lighter SF work might be nice. So here I am, giving it a try.

The basic premise is that aliens come to Earth and want to make contact with humans, but they're kind of amorphous gelatinous things (I'm picturing Yaphit from The Orville or Bob from "Monsters Vs. Aliens" here, mostly) and they've consumed enough of our media to know that humans are not going to react well to them. So their first contact is with an L.A. talent agency, where the job is passed off to our first-person protagonist, Tom Stein, who is introduced to specially-created envoy Joshua.

What follows is not actually madcap, but mostly light-hearted, as Tom has to deal with his star client, rising blonde star Michelle Beck who is fighting for a serious role in a Holocaust movie, reporters trying to figure why he's suddenly behaving so oddly, and his neighbours' decrepit dog, while he tries to figure out how to introduce these aliens to humanity. We also get some examination of that nature of life, consciousness, and identity, though not too deep.

All in all, I liked it better than The Ghost Brigades. After some internal debate about whether I should still go on to Starter Villain next (as opposed to The Collapsing Empire or Lock In), I decided to stick with it for now.

Jack L. Chalker: Songs of The Dancing Gods, completed December 6

Continuing with the Dancing Gods reread; this one is from six years after the original trilogy. It includes an introduction which recaps the original trilogy, but also provides some insight into why he wrote it in the first place. Apparently he had the hankering to write some epic fantasy, so he read some recent books (in what would presumably have been the late 70s) and was struck by how everything was either Tolkien or Conan. Which led him to thinking of an actual fantasy world that could exist that everyone was drawing from, where the rules were set down so the stories were all the same.

Now I was trying to think of what he might have been reading to lead him to these conclusions. So what can I find for 1970s fantasy? Katherine Kurtz's original Deryni series. They don't seem particularly generic to me, neither Tolkienesque or Conanesque. Pern is often mentioned, but it was really science fiction on many levels, as was (spit) Darkover, or C.J. Cherryh's Morgaine books. Lin Carter was literally writing Conan, as well as homages to the genre, so maybe he counts. Shannara didn't get going until 1977, but it did instigate a flood of Tolkienesques, which theoretically could include the Thomas Covenant series, though those were a lot less generic. And most of the other ones I think of (like Dennis McKiernan and Tom Deitz) came out later. So, in sum, I don't know what the hell Chalker was reading. But whatever.

Anyway, the book once again starts slowly, mostly focusing on the one character who got body-swapped last book into a slave body, and the Rules are imposing slave behaviour and thinking. In many ways she's the central character of the book as a result. They wander around for a bit near the beginning, then go on a mission up north to infiltrate enemy territory. (One character has gotten obsessed with "Gilligan's Island" since their sojourn on Earth in the last book. I think it's fair to say that Chalker was not a fan.) One interesting bit of worldbuilding is the ice field they have to cross which is actually an ancient frozen battlefield, with powerful magics that leak out if any of the ice ever melts. So they have to cross it without melting anything. Nice obstacle. (An ice obstacle, heh.) Once again manages to pull it together well enough for the end, but it still doesn't really transcend. One more book to go and then I imagine I will be weeding the entire series from my shelves.

Sarah Kuhn: Heroine Complex, completed December 11

Time for another female diversity book. I have a number of choices among authors that I've read before--Michelle West/Sagara, Premee Mohamed, N.K. Jemisin, S.G. Wong, and Fonda Lee, among others--I felt like it was time to try a new one. I was going back and forth between Tasha Suri and Sherry Thomas, when my wife reminded me of this one, which seemed like it had more of a fun vibe, so I decided to go for it.

Kuhn is half-Japanese, like her main character, Evie Tanaka. Evie is the lifelong friend and put-upon personal assistant of Aveda Jupiter, a.k.a. Annie Chang. After a demonic incursion event in San Francisco, Annie got low-level superpowers, but took the opportunity to rebrand herself as an ass-kicking superheroine/social media star. Evie also got some powers, but given that they're flame powers that tend to get out of control when her emotions get strong, she wishes they'd go away, and has been suppressing them and regimenting her existence ever since, not to mention looking after her little sister after their mother died and their father wandered off. But circumstances force her to stand in for Aveda temporarily, and it throws her carefully balanced life out of whack.

It's a pretty fun read, with characters who are not always rational, but you can understand why they aren't. Drops a lot of clues, some of which I picked up, about future plot twists. Oh, and there's a decent romance subplot too. I enjoyed it and will likely continue in the series; my wife has given me to understand that future books are from different POVs, the next one being Aveda and the one after that Evie's sister Bea.

Glenda Larke: The Last Stormlord, completed December 18

I was expecting to deliberate more on what to read after the Sarah Kuhn. I often file superhero books under "urban fantasy", given their modern settings and the fact that magic is often part of the milieu, and in the Sarah Kuhn book they explicitly have demons, as well as having a romance plot which is very similar to many I've seen in urban fantasy books. So that would tend to preclude reading an urban fantasy book next, leaving "epic fantasy", "science fiction", and, um, all the other genres, which are generally not as well represented.

But apparently as soon as I thought of the Glenda Larke book, my brain was like, "Sure, that'll be fine." I mean, it is an epic fantasy, and it's also the final book in a trilogy, so I can close off another series, which is usually a good thing. Unfortunately, in this case, it's been a while since I read the last one. I think it's possible that after I read Stormlord's Exile I forgot to put this book on my shelves, physical and virtual, so it wasn't on my radar for a while. But also there are certain unmistakeable similarities with the Karen Miller series I was reading. It's possible that those similarities are due to them both being Australian writers, which would explain them both writing series where, firstly, all the civilization is near the south coast and there's a bunch of desert to the north, and second, where the magic is mostly concerned with trying to control weather and bring water to dry lands. It's also kinda long, almost 700 pages, which may put me behind on my Goodreads challenge again (even reduced as it is), but I've decided not to care about that anymore, right? Anyway, it's taken me a while to get back to it, and my memory of what happened previously is spotty. I guess I'll get to see how good Larke's recap game is.

Immediately I am thrown off by the that we start with "Lord Jasper Bloodstone", the only extant Stormlord, who's secretly working with a "waterpainter" named Terelle to help shore up his inadequate weather magic…and before the chapter's over I realize that Terelle is calling him Shale, and I don't remember why he has two different names… But Shale is the main character I remember from the other two books, and I vaguely remember waterpainting, and the desert-dwelling tribesmen they mention, who travel using "pedes", or myriapedes, giant many-legged arthropods, to traverse the dunes.

A large chunk of the action in this book seems to take place in the land of Khromatis, which turns out to be a non-arid land across the desert which turns out to have even more people with water magic. This results in the action being a little fragmented, because just when we have established some of the conflicts going on back in the desert regions (the Quartern) we have a lengthy section set in Khromatis. It feels like a weird choice for the last book in the series to be introducing this new land and new characters. (Though I guess Karen Miller did something similar in her last "Fisherman's Children" book, and it refreshed the plot mightily.)

It all more or less comes together in the end, with bonus next-generation characters for potential sequels. Gets some bonus points for having actual trans (transitioned using magic, no less) and gay characters. Still, I don't know if I will be hunting down more Glenda Larke right away or anything.

Cory Doctorow: Walkaway, completed December 24

I've been reading Cory Doctorow from at least the time his first novel came out--at least his novels, if not his short stories or blog posts back then. I read Makers by installments on Tor.com, which was a weird experience. I met him once in Toronto when he and my wife were both nominated for "Forest of Reading" awards. And these days I'm mostly reading his essays on Pluralistic and feeling pretty left-wing as a result. But I'm a bit behind on the novels. The last one I read was Pirate Cinema, which was decent, and I decided to go onto this one next. Now I'm kinda interested in his Martin Hench novels, so clearly I gotta read this one to get it out of the way. (Like my motivation for reading the Scalzi one a few weeks earlier.)

I initially thought that, as less than 400 pages, I might read it in four days. Instead I ended up taking six…partly because it was Christmas season and we were busy, but also because it was just a dense book, possibly small font size and more words per page, I didn't actually check. But also I didn't find it a particularly compelling read.

It's probably unsurprising to find it similar to a number of earlier Doctorow books, like Makers, Little Brother, and Pirate Cinema. I was a little surprised to find myself reminded of Octavia Butler's Parable of The Sower at times. It's done with multiple third-person POV, which I found kind of distancing, unlike the immediacy of some of Doctorow's other books.

It's set about fifty years in the future, where "zottas", the ultra-rich, are dominating "default" society, so your only options are to be a wage slave forever, or to walk away. The technology, replete with "printers" that can produce such things as entire buildings and complicated pharmaceuticals, makes it fairly easy to survive and thrive outside of "default". So at first it seems like it's mostly going to be comparing strategies for walkaway survival. But the zottas and their mercenaries aren't particularly happy with the success of walkaways, particularly when Walkaway U. develops some groundbreaking technology in brain-scanning-and-uploading.

In the end I was kind of meh on the whole thing, which, perhaps inevitably, ended up revolving around the one walkaway who was a zotta's daughter, and quite frankly that plotline was the most interesting. I didn't really care about the handwavy technology which made it all possible.

Also is the second book in a row with a trans, or possibly intersex, character, who seemed to me to be handled well.

From here I guess I have to decide whether I want to try Martin Hench books like Red Team Blues, or The Lost Cause; I'm leaning more towards the latter, now that I've finished the "Science In The Capital" trilogy, but I guess we'll see.

Jack L. Chalker: Horrors of The Dancing Gods, completed December 29

Bringing the reread of the Dancing Gods series to an end, and at this point I'm wishing I could send a message to my past self and say, "Don't bother, toss them out with the Changewinds books." This one came out in 1995 and as far as I can tell did not need to be. According to the author notes it was inspired by a "horror boom" the happened around that time, which I am not familiar with, but then I was never into horror all that much. I have come to like Stephen King, who is a genre unto himself, and I rarely bother to look past that.

It seems like this time he is leaning harder into actual parody, though I'm only guessing because I keep seeing things that look like references that I don't get, though I was mildly amused by their voyage on the H.P. Hovecraft (to the continent of Yuggoth). We've disposed of the "were" curse, which was the most interesting thing about the earlier books, and Joe only gets POV near the beginning of the book, and then we're with Marge and Joe's son Irving.

There's a lot of talking about good vs. evil whose main conclusion seems to be "they're not all that different", and it's possible that once I used to think that way, but now it doesn't have a lot of appeal for me. Far too much dialogue consist of one character saying something provocative, another one saying "Huh?", and the the first character explaining their profound insights. It gets kind of wearing.

This book also had a trans/intersex character, but given that this is Jack Chalker, they were handled with as much shock and drama as possible. ("Oh no, I've fallen in love with this girl, but she's got male genitalia! This may be an insuperable obstacle to our relationship!") Weird to have a three-book streak, though.

It'll probably be a while before I read any more Chalker. I remember last time I reread the Well World books that I noticed a definite decline in quality, so I'm almost afraid to revisit them again; probably the Flux & Anchor books won't hold up either. Four Lords of the Diamond might, or maybe The Wonderland Gambit. But not for a while.

As for nonfiction, I made a little more progress in Sugar, but not much. We've moved from talking about African slaves to South Asian indentured servants, which is actually not much of an improvement. Those plantation folk certainly did suck, though not enough for MAGA Republicans to throw them out or anything. Mostly I'm trying to work through another month of comics on Marvel Unlimited.

And that's it for December, and for 2024! Because I'm not finishing another book in the year, despite getting a good head start in the doctor's waiting room. I will also be doing a separate year-end post, so stay tuned for that.

[whirlybirbs]

               (   another gif by @unearthlydust​ from this beautiful set !   )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  3/?

summary: you find out about bucky’s past, he finds out about yours. 

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 6.4k, va va voom

a/n: oh look out here comes the plot, charactization, and growth between to pals who are maybe starting to feel a little something begin to take shape. but ignore that, there’s danger afoot. no spoilers for tfatws here!

    (   PREVIOUS   |    AO3    |    MASTERLIST  |   NEXT  )

“You know I have to ask these questions. It’s part of the check-in.”

“Yeah,” you fire back, flat enough to warrant Dr. Hart’s scowl to grow. You can’t see it over the phone, but you know the way her words whip around you means she’s upset, “I know.”

“If you’re not following the action plan set out by the judge,” she begins, leaning forward as her tone drops into a scalding hot sort of seriousness on the other end, “You will go to prison. You know this. So, do you want to spend ten years of your life behind bars? Are you trying to get yourself locked up? Come on.”

You can’t look up from your computer’s screen. Or maybe you can, but right now, there’s a dangerous mixture of anger and guilt and frustration boiling under your skin.

“I’m trying.”

“Trying isn’t good enough for the GRC,” Dr. Hart snaps, “You know this. They’re giving you a chance — they know you’re talented. You have the ability here to go straight, to earn a living, to finally make up for those years of blackhat work.”

“Everything I did,” you fire back, ripping your eyes up to meet Dr. Hart’s, “Was for others. I didn’t get a fucking penny.”

“You’re not Robin Hood,” she shakes her head as her tone softens, “We all make mistakes. But, everything has a consequence. You know this. And this conversation isn’t even considering the other charges.”

“You know the extortion case would never hold up in court.”

Dr. Hart sighs raggedly. “And I don’t intend on ever seeing it play out in court, because you’re going to follow the conditions of your pardon.”

“The GRC is a bunch of fascists—”

“Enough,” she snaps, “If you want to go and appeal your case with the judge, be my guest, but I can almost guarantee you’ll be perp-walked out of that Federal courtroom in cuffs.”

She’s right.

Dr. Hart is right.

Your knee is bouncing, up and down and up and down. You’re wound up around yourself, arms crossed tight, brows knotted. With a shaky exhale, you just nod. You breathe, and you remind yourself that she’s right. She’s right, she’s right, she’s right. It’s not worth it. Dipping yourself back into that world, the layer of the web beneath the surface, isn’t worth it.

The GRC is your way out.

Just be a good little girl and do as you're told.

“So, I’m going to ask you again,” Dr. Hart begins, pen clicking alive on the other end of the phone call, “...Have you engaged in any illegal activities online in the last seven days?”

                                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

Inessa Sidrova’s photo stares up at him from its place on the speckled marble counter, stacked neatly next to his notebook where her name is scrawled in chicken scratch — between two other names: Zemo and Henrikson.

His laptop, technically on loan from the FBI, sits beside both.

(When Barnes had agreed in that closed doors meeting to the conditions of his pardon, a certain FBI agent by the name of Jimmy Woo had been rather insistent that Barnes needed a personal computer in order to carry out his portion of the conditions insofar as tracking down the remaining HYDRA pawns in the States. Woo had also insisted, to the agreement of Dr. Raynor, that a personal computer would help better acclimate Barnes to the new world he’d been dropped into.

Woo was even nice enough to take an hour of his own time to show Bucky enough to get started — but was whisked away for some investigation out in New Jersey.)

Bucky rubs the cold vibranium of his left palm into his eye, then exhales long and slow.

He’s done all he can. And still, no leads on the woman.

Rounding the kitchen island, he digs his cell from his pocket. He goes back to staring at that text — the one he’d laughed out loud at the moment it lit up his phone — and he can feel that ol’ bite of anxiousness creep into his arms. His fingertips tingle.

On the television, a laugh track plays over a clip of The Three Stooges. Blue eyes flick upward, and he partially wishes a ladder would put him out of his own self-induced misery.

Outside, the antics of a Saturday night in Brooklyn roll on.

In the last few days he’s parsed through his thoughts enough to realize it’s not telling you that scares him — no, it’s telling you the truth. The whole truth. All of it. After all, the good comes with a lot of bad; the sort of bad you chain in a chest and sink in the ocean. And Bucky finds that, even still, the good is questionable at best. The good is… small. Microscopic. Completely and totally tainted by the fuckin’ decades of brainwashed, war dog bullshit.

He groans and drops his head back against the wall.

He tries, for the next twenty minutes, to formulate some sort of reply to your text message. But, half the battle is figuring out what to say, and the other half is actually typing it out. This whole flip phone purchase was really starting to sting like regret — and as much as Bucky loved technology back before the war, and all the magical possibilities it held, he can’t help but feel like an ornery old man now.

It’s the change. Steve was right. Too much change.

He can’t find the space button and he can’t figure out how to delete the random 3 he’d accidentally punched in — so, with a grumpy huff of disapproval, Bucky simply dials your number.

You pick up on the third ring.

“Don’t you know it’s Saturday?” your voice is a welcomed sound, “The History Channel is running a bunch of old war documentaries you might enjoy, grandpa.”

Bucky snorts, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. “What makes you think I’d wanna watch that shit?”

“Everyone knows that old men like two things,” your voice is light, half-distracted from the sounds of it, “World War Two, or grilling. And honestly, you don’t strike me as the grilling type.”

“I like a good burger.”

“Yeah?” you snort, and Bucky can hear you shift your phone from one ear to the other, “Is that why you called? To hint at being hungry?”

“No,” he exhales, looking out the window, “No, I was trying to reply to your text but I can’t find the fuckin’ space button. Calling is easier.”

“Oh my god—”

“Shut up,” he barks with a laugh, sitting up, “Don’t even start — are you hungry?”

“Almost always, why?”

“Got any plans tonight?”

“... You do know who you’re asking, right?”

Bucky grins, a little boyish and a little tired. “Good point. Loser.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re the one calling me to hangout,” you snort, leaning to prop your feet up on your desk and lean back. Your chair wheels backwards, far enough for you to get a good look down the street. It’s a nice night, cool enough, and it seems like the whole borough is awake, “But, I’m only hanging out if you tell me what the fuck is up with court mandated therapy. I can’t wait another three days.”

Your anxiety has been pricked the last few days over it.

“... Do I get to pick the place?”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

“Great,” he exhales tightly, “I hope you’re in the mood for sushi.”

                                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

Izzy’s is busy, but there’s privacy in the bustle.

Bucky had buzzed your apartment’s ringer and you’d flown down the stairs, looking… alive. The sort of alive that was new — like a fresh bud beginning to bloom in spring. It had made him grin, and he’d watched you push a tress of hair behind your ear as you decided it was warm enough for no jacket tonight. The light of the crosswalk sign lit you up like a star.

He was sweating.

Dr. Raynor was right — that was it, of course it was — that it was getting too warm for his usual outfit. So, he’d settled on the next best thing: a sweatshirt that was big enough and black enough that he could bury himself in it. His hands are tucked neatly into the pockets.

No gloves tonight.

He feels naked.

He shoulders the door and holds it open with the toe of his boot as you duck towards the back of the restaurant. There’s a booth in the back by a large bamboo plant — you weave through the place with a new found confidence. There’s anxiousness in your shoulders but it melts when you look back at Bucky. Like a watchful guard dog, he nods.

You settle into the booth, toss your jacket in the corner, and smirk.

“I get out sometimes,” Bucky remarks before you can even say anything. He shifts in the booth and reaches up to scratch his cheek with his right hand, “Not often, but I do.”

“I didn’t say anything...”

“You were going to,” he nearly smirks back, his brows raised as he adjusts the chopsticks on the table, “I know that look.”

You snort, nudging his boot under the table. That works a huffed little laugh out the man across from you. Almost immediately you can sense anxiousness rolling off him — it’s the tightness in his mouth that gives him away, the way he’s fussing with the soy sauce dish and trying to get it to line up perfectly with the marbling on the table. Worry flashes in your eyes.

“Bucky.”

He raises his head.

“You alright?” you ask quietly.

“You have to promise not to flip out.”

Your brows knot tightly — but before you can even question what the fuck he means, he’s casually dropping his other hand onto the table.

And you almost don’t notice at first. Your brain fills the gaps in, figuring it’s his glove. But, then you blink and his hand catches the light and you realize it’s not leather. It’s glittering obsidian, garnished with gold, and it’s moving. Flexing. Seams bending and warping and there’s a gentle hum coming from the appendages and you squint because he’s tapping his fingers on the table and there’s a metallic tik-tik-tik that meets your ears.

Then, your eyes jump to his face.

He looks pained.

You’re confused.

And then you’re not.

“You’re —”

You slap a hand over your own mouth. You have to promise not to flip out. Your eyes are eighty miles wide and your jaw is falling open and you’re leaning forward, whispering in a rushed tone because what the fuck.

“You’re that Bucky?!”

Oh, you feel stupid.

The hostess appears, suddenly. You snap backwards in the booth, Bucky tucks his hand away, and you both muster forced smiles to the waitress. She’s young. Pretty. Her name-tag says Sarah.

She asks about drinks.

Bucky gets a beer.

Slowly, you knock your knuckles against the table and drop your head into your hand. The look on your face is exhausted. “Do you guys have Mai Tais?”

The answer is yes. And you’re glad. Because you’re going to fucking need it.

The two of you are quiet until the drinks come — avoiding one anothers gazes for completely different reasons. Bucky is sheepish, a bit mortified, like he always is when people recognize him. It’s why he shaved his fuckin’ head. It worked well enough but… the arm was usually a dead giveaway.

Meanwhile, you’re wondering if you could shave your own head and disappear. Because there’s no easy way to explain the weird elation swirling in your chest right now.

Bucky’s first to speak. His beer is in his good hand. He inhales quickly, eyes darting to you as he leans forward and whispers incredulously. He speaks quickly and his words are pointed with an edge of curiosity.

“...What do you mean ‘that Bucky��?”

“Y’know, I knew there was a reason you acted like you needed a senior citizen discount. And you know exactly what I mean,” you rush out all while waving your Mai Tai and jabbing the side with the umbrella towards him, “Listen, this is a lot to take in, Mr. Avenger.”

“I am not an Avenger—”

“You helped reverse the Snap. You’re the Winter Soldier. That makes you an Avenger—”

Bucky’s shaking his head, eye screwed shut tightly because the sudden equation to his past self being considered a hero is like being socked in the mouth. He stutters over his words and shakes his head more vigorously, like he’s trying not to hear what you’re saying.

“I am not the Winter Soldier. Not anymore. And it’s not like I’m not on the fuckin’ roster, doll—”

You hold a finger up, stopping him there, and take a long sip of your sunset colored drink. You swallow. You exhale. Bucky swigs his beer.

“One, don’t call me doll,” you say curtly, then raise a second finger. You lean in and squint, “Two… Christ, the haircut really makes a big difference, doesn’t it?”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” he sighs raggedly, dismissing your scrutiny.

You puff your cheeks out and exhale. Leaning back in the booth, you try not to feel so fucking insane.

“...I can never have you over now.”

Bucky’s brows narrow quickly and his eyes snap to yours. “What?”

“I can’t have you over,” you explain slower with your eyes rooted to the soy sauce in the corner, “Because I don’t think I could ever handle you seeing my signed and framed Captain America poster from his USO tour in 1943.”

Bucky’s face is deadpan. “You’re kidding.”

“I really wish I was,” you gripe, “It’s an original.”

“...You’re a Cap girl,” he says suddenly, leaning back with this look in his eye. It’s less of a question. You can’t pin it down. It looks like he's damn near traumatized.

Bucky thinks — honestly — that this is the cherry on top. Every girl back then was a Cap girl, too. It figures, now, in this new century where he’s making new friends that… as per usual, Steve gets the cake. That fuckin’ pint sized bastard.

He’ll have to tell him about this.

You yank your eyes up to Bucky’s face. His mortification is shifting to surprise to amusement. You’re fast to sit up, mouth opening to fire a retort — but Bucky’s suddenly really enjoying the look of pure horror on your face at the insinuation. He’s smirking. Plain as day. He swigs his beer.

“No, no—” you raise a finger, “No, stop it. Don’t make it fuckin’ weird, Bucky, it’s not like I have his name tattoo’d on my ass. And I knew a girl in college who did.”

His brows rise sharply and you’re finding you’re regretting everything that’s coming out of your mouth.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you guffaw, gesturing for him to show you his hand again, “I wanna see.”

Bucky sighs and plucks his hand from his hoodie pocket.

With a sort of tenderness Bucky wasn’t prepared to handle, you take his metallic hand into your own. There’s an immediate twinge — one that’s procured by flashes of violence from years of being a walking weapon. He breathes, and he reminds himself that this arm is not the same that tethered him to HYDRA all those years ago.

This arm is his, it is not him.

The sensation is different. He isn’t used to anyone touching him like this; he’s used to the feeling of flesh on the other end of a punch, or a throat caught in his palm. Not the gentle pass of your fingers, delicate and purposeful, over his knuckles.

You turn over his hand, eyes alight with curiosity — and Bucky, desperate to stamp out the hotness growing in his gut, moves quickly to flick your nose.

“Ow—”

“Don’t stare,” he says coyly, “It’s rude.”

The waitress is back. His hand is tucked away, and you wrestle the stupid expression off your face long enough to order a plate of assorted maki rolls and some fried tofu. Bucky orders what seems like his usual — shrimp tempura and spicy tuna rolls.

The waitress, Sarah, disappears with a smile.

You’re grinning.

“So… Does this make me the sidekick?” you whisper playfully.

“Shut up,” Bucky laughs, his lips almost darting into a smile.

You cock your head, pushing your chopsticks across the table with a horribly coy look on your face. It’s comical. “...I think this makes me the sidekick.”

“It — stop it — it does not make you the sidekick,” Bucky says slowly as he sips his beer and pins you in the booth across from him, “I’m not a hero. You’d have better luck asking Cap on that one.”

You grow silent. There’s a question hanging on your tongue. You’re wrestling with yourself — Bucky can see that much. He frowns.

“Spit it out, Goose.”

You blink. “Was that a Top Gun reference?”

“You wanted to be the sidekick.”

You wave it off, blinking into your Mai Tai. Your voice is quiet. Even as you speak, there’s a hesitancy akin to walking on eggshells. “What happened to Cap? Is he… alive? He’s gone off the grid. It’s, like, this massive conspiracy theory online.”

“He’s upstate.”

You blink.

“That’s ominous.”

Bucky shrugs. “Someday I’ll take you. It’s… nice.”

You go quiet. You freeze, drink halfway to your mouth. Bucky can’t help but smirk at that. His laugh is more of a scoff than anything.

“Relax, Miss America.”

“Shut up — do you mean that?”

“What, that I think you’re in love with Captain America?”

“No, you bastard, that you’ll take me. To meet him.”

Bucky’s words are easy. They roll off his tongue without a second thought. He feels… okay. Like this part is okay. Not as bad as he thought it could be. His anxiousness isn’t as heavy now. He feels like he isn’t losing you. But then again, he hasn’t gotten to the bad part yet.

“He’s my best friend,” Bucky explains plainly, “And so are you.”

The admission is warm. As easy as breathing. Two months in the making.

“Your only friend,” you say quietly, offering the joke as a cover for the softening tone that dances over your words. It’s affection, you realize, as you mimic his shrug, “But, go on.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Bucky chirps, “But, yea, I mean it. He’d like you.”

You raise your chin, wiggling a bit in the booth. It’s pride — and as much as Bucky likes the look of it, he can’t handle the ridiculousness that comes along with it. But, it’s sort of comforting. He knows this playfulness, this easiness, it’s all because he’s him. You trust him. In.a way, it strikes Bucky with guilt. There are wall of his still built up high. Maybe they’re slowly coming down, but… he’s like a stray dog, slow to trust.

“Safe to say,” you breathe, “I have a few questions.”

“I figured as much.”

You sip your drink and swallow. You raise a hand. “But — I wanna know the boundaries. I don’t want to… I don’t want to pry about shit I have no business knowing, alright? It’s your life and even if we are friends, I don’t need to know everything.”

The relief is almost immediate. He thumbs the label of his beer.

“Ask anything. But I can’t promise I’ll be able to give you the answers.”

“And I’ll leave it at that,” you say sternly, propping your elbow up on the table and offering your pinky finger, “Until you want to talk about it. Promise.”

He crooks his pinky in yours, squeezing gently. You smile.

Sarah comes back with the food, and then Bucky offers his usual half-exhausted, half-amused smirk.

“You get three questions now. Then, we shut up and eat.”

You fold your hands neatly over themselves, eyeing your food as you try your best to sort out what questions come up with the most urgency. There’s… a lot. I mean, everyone knew about the Avengers — and everyone had their opinions. The Sokovia Accords, Lagos, the Blip… and SHIELD. Years of bullshit culminating around those who were considered the heroes. The kickback usually ended up on everyday citizens like you. After the initial amazement, the reality of it all set in.

But, to Bucky’s point, he wasn’t really an Avenger.

Nowadays, there really wasn’t a team at all. No up-state compound, no leader, no Stark and no Rogers.

You’re sure the GRC will try — that the military will try. Morale and hope and blah, blah, blah.

You narrow your eyes. “How old are you?”

It’s quick. “One hundred and six.”

“How’d they keep you alive that long?”

There’s a wince that flashes across his face like he’s been stabbed with a white hot poker in the ribs. You see a twitch of irritation bubble across his lips. Not with you. No, it’s that this question is still hard for him to answer. Bucky exhales sharply.

“Next question.”

You feel a pang of guilt flare in your chest. You move along.

“Who kept you alive that long?”

“The Russians. HYDRA, if you wanna get specific.”

You exhale and settle on the fact you now have more questions than answers. But, you nod and snatch up your chopsticks. Enough of the twenty questions game.

In all honesty, it’s not like Bucky’s existence was common knowledge. The Winter Soldier was known mostly, sure, to those who had floated in the same circles as him when he was nothing but a rabid cur on a choke chain. He can’t help but be a bit thankful for the minor erasure of his new self — sure, in the eyes of the U.S. government he was a high-level threat to be reintegrated as soon as possible and surveyed at all times. But, to the average New Yorker, he was just another person. Everyone was so used to seeing the heroes in their costumes with their bigger than life personas and…

Bucky was just Bucky.

Even he didn’t really know who that was. He was starting to.

His pardon had come with some flak from some of the more political news outlets but… somehow, the details of the Winter Soldier’s exact crimes were being kept silent. Probably to avoid panic. And, even then, the connection between the newly alive James Buchanan Barnes and The Winter Soldier hadn’t been made yet in the public eye. He was glad.

The haircut definitely helped.

It’s like he was a walking classified redaction.

Bucky has a sushi roll in his mouth when he finally speaks. “For such a Captain American fan, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me.”

“Oh, you’re really not gonna let that go, huh?” you say as you chew, covering your mouth. You swallow and waggle your chopsticks at him, “Listen, it’s been a while since I’ve… y’know, had my Avengers phase. That was years ago. It was at its peak when I worked for SHIELD. And besides, you’re kinda new to the whole superhero scene.”

Bucky frowns. “You worked for SHIELD...?”

“For a year,” you say tightly, “Back before the collapse.”

“Only a year?”

“It was for my graduate program,” you wave it off, “I won out on the most competitive internship NYU had to offer. I was working within their cybersecurity division. I will say I spent more time trying to sort of email phishing scams than anything else, though. I’m sure they saw my record and wanted to keep me away from the juicy stuff.”

Bucky squints.

You offer a sheepish shrug.

“I got into trouble when I was younger,” you sip your drink and sigh, “I always liked computers. I used to spend all my time on forum sites just… reading and talking to people and figuring out how these sites actually worked, so learning how to write my own code was just the next step. When I was fifteen, I learned how to tap phones. At sixteen, I was hijacking my neighbor’s internet conenctions and remotely controlling his laptop.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“Yea, well, he was a sitting Senator who was having an affair with the nanny,” you mutter, “And I was stupid enough to try and blackmail him for cash. I wish I could say I learned my lesson.”

Bucky exhales long and hard at that, like he knows where that snap of misguided judgement goes. It’s not like he’s passing judgement onto you, but… like he knows the feeling. And you manage to not feel so small, then — telling him this is easy. It’s not your favorite part of your life by any means, but Bucky is listening. Really listening.

He fiddles with the paper wrapper of the chopsticks.

“So, less a Goose and more a Kevin Poulsen type, huh?”

You snort. “For an old man, I’m surprised you know who that is. But, I wasn’t hacking into the Pentagon at seventeen. I was too busy doing community service.”

“HYDRA had their eyes on him in the 90s,” Bucky mumbles through a bite of spicy tuna, the memory popping into his mind and flying out before he can stop it, “I remember… I thought his username was stupid.”

“Oh, you didn’t like Dark Dante?”

“Like I said,” Bucky chortles, “Stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have liked mine, then,” you smirk lightly, “It’s worse.”

Bucky raises his brows, somehow doubting that entirely. “Really?”

“...I was hackrabb1t for a long time. Y’know, with a ‘one’ for the ‘i’,” you cringe, “People kept thinking I was a furry.”

There’s a pause. Bucky’s face is set in an unreadable emotion. It’s confusion mixed with amusement mixed with… something else. When he speaks, he clears his throat and tilts his head.

“It’s clever. But,” a pause, “What is a furry? I’ve been seeing that word all over PlentyOfFish.”

Your jaw flies open. You raise your hands as your head reels around. Bucky has a look on his face like he knows, he knows he shouldn’t have asked and he definitely shouldn’t have given you enough context to know where he’s seen that phrase before, because now you’re looking at him like he has seventeen heads and they’re all on fire.

“Y’know what, nevermind—”

“—Oh, no, no, there’s way too much to unpack here,” you lean forward, “You’re on PlentyOfFish?”

“ChristianMingle wasn’t really my speed — stop laughing.”

“Shut up — stop it, stop — this is too much,” you say with a high voice, “If you get catfished, I’m not helping you track the person down…”

“—What the hell is a catfish?” he nearly cries, raising both hands in a desperate shrug, “I don’t even know what any of these words mean.”

“Oh, you sweet, naive, innocent, man—”

“No, no, no, no,” he chirps, raising a finger with a deadly look of seriousness on his face, “No, I am not naive or sweet or any of the above. I’ll take ‘cute’, sure, but none a’ those.”

“Is that what the furries call you on PlentyOfFish? Cute?”

He drops his head back against the booth and stares at the ceiling.

“Our friendship was a mistake, rabbit.”

You choke out a laugh. “Shut up, you walking claw machine.”

You’re both laughing now — quieter but sustained and everytime you think you’ve calmed down enough to sip your Mai Tai, you just have to look at the distraught, scruffy man across from you to break into another fit of muffled laughter. Finally, after what feels like forever, you both manage to calm down enough to finish the plates in front of you.

There’s a warmth that’s settled in Bucky’s chest — it’s eaten away at the usual jitter in his legs, the anxious twitch of his fingers. It’s a different emotion. Acceptance, maybe. Comfort. Affection.  

Then, while you’re piling the last bit of sushi rice into your mouth when your phone, set on the side of the table, begins to go off. It hums erratically, dancing in a circle, and all you do is stare at the name flashing across the screen. You’re smiling, hugging her. It’s from Jaimie’s wedding — out in some big, wide open orchard with the sun setting behind you. The picture there is old; you were both different people then.

Before… everything.

MOM Morristown, NJ

You scowl and stare.

Bucky blinks.

“You gonna get that?”

Quickly, you snap out of it. You reach and silence the buzzing with two quick taps. Quietly, you offer up a somber sigh.

“I never do.”

Bucky frowns again, this time with a worried look that digs deep into his eyebrows. You ignore it on purpose, pushing your plate away and leaning back in the booth. He knows what you’re doing — you’re avoiding his gaze, and therefore his own questions.

“Rabbit.”

“Oh, is that my new nickname, then?”

“It fits,” he chirps before crossing his arms, strategically hiding his metallic hand, “What’s up?”

You grow quiet — then it spills out.

“I can’t talk to her.”

“Why?”

You chew your lip. You bite your tongue and you hold back on the finer points of your anger — ones dredged up by the still present sting of your check-in with Dr. Hart this afternoon.

Here it comes.

“As a part of my pardon, I was ordered no-contact with my family,” you exhale, controlling the level of your voice, reciting the court papers you’d read over and over and over, “It was deemed that further contact would impact my progress towards reformed behavior and judgment.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide. His jaw is tight.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘pardon’?”

It’s your turn to cross your arms now, to ignore the sting of his look. It’s the kind that screams disappointment more than anything. You hate that you’re getting it from Bucky of all people.

“Like I said, I didn’t learn my lesson when I was a kid,” you shirk, “Last year I was arrested on a number of counts — I’d been evading the FBI, CIA, all of them, for years. I was doing it all for people like me. The ones who got left behind.”

Bucky’s tone is flat. It’s serious. His next sentence is less of a question, more of an order. The cadence is rhythmic and it reminds you of your brother the night he found out about the first time you’d been arrested; you decide, then, that Jaimie and Bucky would have gotten along.

“What did you do?”

“Whatever I could,” you wave your hands, “Identity theft, falsified documents, insurance fraud. Anything. There were people, like me, that in a blink, lost everything. Accidents, deaths, evictions and no one did anything for us. The insurance agencies wouldn’t cover damages related to The Snap. Life insurance policies, social security… It all got snatched up by people at the top while the system collapsed around us. I had to pay for my brother’s funeral out of pocket. And there were hundreds of thousands of people just like me, just trying to get by. And everything failed us.”

Bucky is stuck in silence. It’s like mud, dragging him to the bottom of a pond — the sort that’s dredged with misery. In an instant, his veins are on fire with an anger he hadn’t felt in a while. It manifests itself in the tightening of his jaw. He rubs his face and props his elbows up on the table.

“Why won’t they let you see your family?”

You fiddle with your napkin.

“My brother… His wife was on maternity leave when she disappeared in the Blip,” you mutter, “She came back to no job, a dead husband, and no home. Their apartment complex had been abandoned. She’s trying her best to make ends meet. She lives with my Mom in our old home. Neither of them can find work. They… The court thought that I’d be influenced to do something if I was around them.”

“What, like help?”

“They see me as a criminal,” you manage, “But I’m useful, so they’re keeping me around.”

Silence falls between the two of you once more — and the sad look on your face makes Bucky’s chest tight. He can see anxiety beginning to spill over; you’re wringing the napkin, fiddling with the edges. Suddenly, Bucky realizes you’re feeling exactly how he was an hour or so ago.

Your voice is soft. “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you.”

“Looks like we’re two birds of a feather,” he says, knocking the toe of your sneaker with his boot, “Listen, we all do stupid shit. I’ve got a lot worse weighing me down. I get it.”

You look up, sadness glistening in your expression like sun off a lake. It’s harsh. He wants to look away.

He doesn’t.

“... So, that means you’re good with computers?”

                                                      ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦  

That’s how you find yourself in Bucky’s Brooklyn apartment at almost midnight, wandering behind him in the long halls and watching curiously as he digs his key from his pocket and shoulders the door open.

It’s a small apartment. One bed, one bath, a kitchenette and that’s really it.

For its size, it’s hardly lived in.

You suppose it makes sense — Bucky didn’t have a lot of personal belongings, and with the hints he’d dropped about his life before The Blip, you were beginning to understand that he may have never really had that much to begin with.

There’s a blanket on the floor by the television and a single couch pillow. It’s tucked in the corner, behind a small sofa. There’s a chair in the living room, one from an old dining set. At the kitchen counter, there’s a stack of papers and a single laptop. Even though all the kitchen’s wares are older models, the bones of the apartment are good. Bare, but good.

You stop in the doorway to the bedroom and stare at the untouched bed. The sheets are tucked tightly in the corners — there’s something militaristic about it. Across the hall is the bathroom. It’s small. You can see a few amenities scattered across the sink’s top.

Being in here feels something like an open wound.

It was lonely. Quiet. Cold.

“We need to make a trip to HomeGoods,” you mumble as Bucky flicks on the lights, “I get the whole minimalist thing, but sheesh.”

“I don’t have a lot,” he says, kicking off his boots by the door and shrugging off his jacket, “And I don’t need a lot either.”

You watch as his shoulders sag a bit, like he can finally let down his guard just a little in his own space. It’s endearing. You perch yourself up on the kitchen counter as your eyes follow him; he moves to fling open a cabinet and grabs a mug. Then, he hesitates.

“You want tea?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Tea?”

“Dr. Raynor said,” Bucky reaches for a container of tea bags from the top shelf. His henley lifts enough to flash a bit of skin along his lower back and you swear you see a scar, “It would help with my anxiety.”

You swing your legs a little. “Then sure.”

“You can use my Captain America mug,” he chirps, laughing a little to himself, “Seeing as you’re such a big fan…”

“God, I regret even saying anything to you,” you spit as you hop down and lean around him to get a look at the mug, “Did you seriously buy that?”

“It was a gift.”

“Bullshit.”

Bucky snorts as you shake your head and wander backwards, eyeing the rest of his apartment with a bit of astonishment. It’s really nothing impressive — but, you suppose it makes sense. Whatever meager disbursement that the government was willing to give Bucky for his efforts in fixing the Snap was better than nothing.

Your gaze hangs on the blanket in the corner.

He watches you; and he notes the sore sadness that dissolves your posture at the sight of the nest in the corner. A bit of shame colors his cheeks as he heats up the water. When Bucky speaks, it’s slow.

“The bed was too soft. I couldn’t sleep on it,” he shifts from foot to foot and focuses on taking the tea bags out and methodically wrapping the strings around the handles, “Dr. Raynor said that’s a typical thing for soldiers to experience when they come home from war.”

You’re quiet for a while after that, only speaking when he rounds the counter with your tea. He offers it up with a tilt of the head.

“You never got to come home, though, right?”

“No,” comes the short reply as you both watch the lights outside the window, “No, I didn’t. Not until now.”

You nudge his arm with yours. You lean a bit. Bucky leans back.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he manages after a sigh and sip of the tea, “I can’t just feel sorry for myself anymore. I’m trying to fix the wrongs I did — and that’s why I need your help.”

You quirk a brow. He reaches around you and grabs the stack of papers on the counter. With a steady grip, Bucky presents the photo of a woman who looks strikingly familiar. You can’t place her face, but there’s something about her that feels like a slap across the cheek. She’s young here, in a faded photo with tattered edges. Beside her is a man who is laughing. The photo is candid, and they’re both beautiful. They’re both  wearing a uniform — but you can’t place the era or location.

You turn to Bucky for answers.

“Back in the 70s, at the height of the Cold War, HYDRA was working in tandem with the Russians to spy on American forces,” he offers easily, staring out the window, “The American HYDRA cell hadn’t yet been planted. This man, Andrei Kuznetzov, was a spy. He was feeding the Americans information on the Russian nuclear program. His wife, the one in the photo, was ordered to kill him. She refused.”

Bucky’s fingers twitch.

His words are soaked through with pain.

“I,” he continues, “killed him.”

You hold your breath. Then you spare him a mournful look.

“Inessa Sidrova went on to help form the same HYDRA cell that ended up taking over SHIELD here in America,” Bucky mumbles, “She’s dangerous. There’s others like her, ones who I helped create, all over the world. But, she’s my top priority. I just haven’t had much luck tracking her down.”

“That’s why you need my help.”

“I’m 106 years old,” Bucky deadpans, “The microfiches at the library were getting a little tedious.”

“But,” you chirp with a sly smirk, “You figured out how to set up a PlentyOfFish account?”

He shoulders you again as you sip your tea and laugh.

“Shoulda never said anything,” Bucky grumbles, “Dr. Raynor thought it was a good idea. Y’know, to get back out in the world.”

“I can promise you,” you say with a stern shake of the head, “The metal arm will get you plenty of chicks and dudes in due time.”

“Good to know,” Bucky replies as his words lilt with a playful sort of questioning that you purposefully ignore. You’re not feeding his ego today. Maybe tomorrow, after you take a crack at figuring out where this woman is.

It’s going to be a long night.

[theroomofreq]

can you give me muggle jily recs pleaaseeee <3 :D

HOW MANY HIGH-QUALITY MUGGLE JILY FICS ARE THERE?? TOO MANY TO COUNT. *cracks knuckles* BUT I am here for the challenge. Jily AUs are my JAM.

Again, shoutout to our amazing @jilyarchive friends who tag every wonderful muggle jily au they come across. here is the link that will take you to their tags page. You'll find links to specific tropes and AUs :')

I've searched through my own AO3 bookmarks and history tabs, and I present to you 28 jily muggle fics that I LOVE. I am THRILLED thinking about all the good things in store for those that read these wonderful stories. This list took me ages to make because I went through and reread most of these brilliant fics. Happy reading !! xx

properly improper by @lizardcookie

“Marry me,” Mr. Potter repeats, closing the distance between them by striding back up towards the sofa, only to stop and crouch to one knee right there at her feet, looking up at her. Burning. “Pick me,” he elaborates. “Pick me, choose me, love me instead.”

- this fic is the reason why I comment the way that I do (spoiler it's because it's amazing)

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl

What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant? Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.

- SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY AT THE PERFECTION

Oh my god, they were ROOMMATES by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world

Silly one-shot, Muggle AU with Fem!Jily as pining roommates and Marlene as their matchmaker.

- the fic that brought me back to jily and inspired my deep obsession of fem!jily

Swipe Right, Swing Left by @downn-in-flames

The unspoken rule of using dating apps in D.C. is that you always start with where you work.

James Potter, it seems, never picked up on that one.

- giddy just thinking about this gem

'Tis the Damn Season by @petalstofish

It doesn't feel like Christmas for Lily Evans, not after losing her parents to COVID before the Holiday season. She anticipates spending Christmas all alone until a boy from her past shows up and offers her a mutually benefiting deal that has her calling him 'babe' just for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, after all.

- cries in respect for lyrical writing

Watch Me Unwind by @maraudersftw

Lily Evans hates her job, hates the bigoted customers she has to serve as a bartender at the richest club in the city. But the one person who makes bearing all of it worth it has someone else in his arms tonight. (Rated: M)

- obsessed with the way the plot jumps around the time line in this

oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic

Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.

- YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW FAB THIS IS

a matchmaking mission by @downn-in-flames

James Potter has a mission: get Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to finally admit that they both fancy the pants off each other by Valentine's Day.

His partner in crime? Lily Evans, Remus' flatmate, who he also happens to be slightly in love with

- DOUBLE the amount of pining idiots in love :")

about time by @jilyss

'sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. wait. why are we on a red carpet?'

- this is my emotional comfort fic, your honor

whiskey business by @elanev91

Sirius Black has a (bad?) habit of picking up hobbies that take over his and James' flat -- this most recent one? Homemade vodka that James now has to try and peddle to everyone in the building.

- hysterical! must read!

Fashion Disaster by @maraudersftw

James Potter is roped into an awful dare by his best-mate, which involves him wearing atrocious pieces of clothing for all days until Christmas as dictated by Sirius. If this wasn't terrible enough, he now has to contend with his maddening crush on the beautiful saleswoman at the clothing store.

- classic hijinks that I live for

it wasn't a pity invite by @elanev91

Part of the December "Winter Tropes" Jily challenge. Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omG i’m so sorry

- awkward Christmas date that owns my heart

spice and honey by @clare-with-no-i

tagging along with her food reporter sister to profile James Potter, London's hottest young chef, is not how Lily Evans pictured her Monday going - especially if he's anything like Petunia’s described.

needless to say, she's in for a whirlwind at Chez Maraudeur.

- I'm one re-read away from printing this out and putting it on my bookshelf.

Waffle Wars by @elanev91

There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.

- the witty narration in this fic can not be matched

You Can Hear It In The Silence by @alrightginger

Lily is non-verbal and deaf in a world where the things your soulmate says about you end up written on your skin. She has known about her soulmate since she was seven, but knows they don't have a clue she exists and possibly never will.

- exquisite, cue me sobbing forever

out the window by @displayheartcode

A new family moves to Ottery St Catchpole.

- everything I could ever want in a fic, forever in my mind rent free

The Christmas Guest by @thegodmachine

An Evans Family Christmas: Petunia is bringing her fiancé and Lily is bringing her…Friend…

- petunia pov that gives me WINGS

Football, Calculus, and Cappuccinos by @moonawrites

At eighteen years old, James Potter has a lot going on. He's a rising star navigating the politics of professional football, the pitfalls of sudden fame, the fallout from choosing his dream over his father's company... and a serious crush on the red headed new barista at his favourite coffee shop.

- I'm still working my way through this fic, but trust me when I say its a GEM

if u like pina coladas by @zephyrcove

Lily is desperate for a date to Petunia's wedding, James has been pining, and their friends meddle ;)

- explain to me how characters can be so perfect via texting fics?

Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction

It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there.

- you absolutely must know that I binge read this and then immediately REREAD it

How to win a witch in 10 days by @adenei

“She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

- fic based off of a rom com? YES PLZ :’)

The Fight Before Christmas by @ghostofbambifanfiction

The heartwarming Christmas tale of Lily Evans and James Potter - two plucky kids who hated one other, until the day they really, really didn't.

- complete sucker for this one

All This Time by @thejilyship

James and Lily grew up next door to one another. Their bedroom windows giving them glimpses into the others life, and also offering prime opportunities to argue with each other over every little thing. They never figured out how to be friends when they were kids, but now that they've graduated from college and are home for the summer, they have a second chance to get things right.

- one of my favvvv tropes

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

With only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter.

- cries in princess diares AU

The Fabulous Baker Brothers by @frustratedpoetwrites

Lily walks a different route home from work and stumbles upon a cute little Bakery with an even cuter baker in the window.

- yes yes yes to embarrassed pining.

Marigold Mornings by @mppmaraudergirl

This is a fun game she thinks, as she removes her hand from his side and reaches up to run it down his chest.  He catches her hand in his own, takes a step forward so that her nose nearly brushes against his shirt. She can feel the heat radiating off of him—or maybe it’s from her. He licks his lips and her eyes are drawn to the motion.  She knows it is a bad idea, absolutely knows it.

- incredible storytelling featuring dynamic characters :') a favvv

Welcome to Pettyville by@women-inthe-sequel @alrightginger

When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?

- LOVE SQUARE ANYONE

The Kiss a Stranger Project by @alrightginger

“What’s your name, then?” she asks, realizing they haven’t even properly introduced themselves yet. She nervously crosses her arms.

You shouldn’t kiss a guy without knowing his name first.

Right?

- THIS ONE WILL LIVE IN MY MIND FOREVER

[pigstepping]

Hi!! For the fanfic ask game: "📊 Current number of WIPs" (and if you wanna talk about them, i'd be super curious to hear!)

Oh god, you know not what you ask 😅 okay lemme count real quick. Fair warning, nearly every single one is techno-centric oops

1. Witherblade AU - the official origins big bang fic, by popular vote! Phil is grieving Wilbur's death, and Technoblade is a necromancer who offers to help revive him. Cue big drama, a probably-unhealthy level of self-sacrifice, and end-game Phil/Kristin courtship <3

2. Bunnyblade AU - another origins fic, was originally gonna get used for the big bang but then I realized it would probably be shorter than I'd like. Techno is a rabbit hybrid exiled from his unsettlingly-insular community, and he stumbles across elytrian!Phil and is terrified because big scary bird of prey. Cue friendship arc, resolved misunderstandings, and recovering from brainwashing.

3. Witcher AU - witcher Techno is hired to take out a pack of draconids targeting livestock, but he figures out that it's actually a young Greater Dragon trying to care for his sick dad (it's tommy and phil lol). He takes on a secret mission to help them, ft. a (hopefully) cool fight scene

4. HTTYD AU - viking techno gets badly hurt while solo hunting, and when a dragon finds him Techno thinks he's gonna get eaten. But instead the dragon (phil) helps keep him alive long enough to heal. Cue magical found family.

5. Arrival AU - Techno and Phil are the lead science team trying to communicate with a first-contact alien species amid global uproar. Also includes some timeline fuckery which I will not spoil in case you haven't seen the movie (highly highly recommend!)

(Those first five can be found in greater detail here! I ran a poll about them recently)

6. Modern Single Dad AU - Techno is an early 20-something trying to do right by his younger brothers Wil and Tommy despite their aggressively neglectful parents. But he's still so young himself, and few 22-year-olds are equipped to feed, clothe, house, and attempt to raise two teenagers. Not that he's struggling, Techno never struggles (spoilers he does)

7. War Orphans AU - similar premise as above but in a feudal low-fantasy setting and with more plot. When Techno and Tommy's mom dies, Techno becomes head of the household and moves with his kid brother into the city to find work. He saves some teenager's life, and it turns out to be Wilbur, the crown prince. King Philza hires Techno as a personal guard for his son. A bit of found family h/c, but then the kingdom goes to war and Techno winds up being a brilliant tactician, playing a key role in battle leadership and becoming super close with Phil while crimeduo brotherhood develops in the background.

8. Space Orc AU: VERY loosely plotted, but something something Techno is a human ex-test subject stranded in space. He gets found by Phil and his crew, who man a scientific exploration ship a la star trek. Trauma healing, language barriers, cultural differences, and ideally a lot of Techno being inadvertently badass because Earth is widely considered a hell-world.

9. Acolyte AU: Piglin Techno is one of the last remaining priests for the old gods, specifically the blood god. He lives a quiet life tending his crumbling temple until one day a gang of soldiers drag in a war prisoner (phil) and demand that Techno perform a blood sacrifice. Cue fight scene possibly ft. divine intervention, then some trauma healing and trust building for EmDuo.

10. TFTSMP Techno + Tubbo ficlet: a narrative retelling of The Maze from the POV of the brothers that Techno and Tubbo played. What it says on the tin, plus unholy levels of angst because that's who I am as a person :')

11. Hippocratic Oath part 3: next installment of my ongoing Techno-Goes-To-Med-School AU, ft. EmDuo platonic life partnership. This part is gonna be centered around deciding which acceptance to take. (Might as well be a self-insert fic, i know, my partners already make fun of me for it, leave me alone :P)

12. Continuation of Champ: SBI+beeduo superhero AU, featuring Bench Trio as vigilantes whose anti-cop direct action pushes hero SBI over the edge into accepting that the hero commission is deeply, deeply corrupt. Hasn't been touched in like a century, but I have an exhaustive plot outline and worldbuilding document you gotta believe me-

13. Keres - ch1 is already published, but i havent touched it in like 6 months ;-; I desperately wanna get back to it though! Techno is a ghost hunter, Wilbur is seeing ghosts, and Phil emphatically does not believe in ghosts but is ready to try anything to help Wilbur feel less scared. Trying to lean hard into the horror aspect for this bad boy

14. Nuke AU - better known as "So Shit Has Hit the Fan," currently in active publication. In DSMP canon setting, a nuke goes off, and Techno hunkers down in his bunker with the rest of the syndicate. But Tubbo and Michael are unexpected guests, and Techno has to navigate all that social tension and lingering resentment while trapped in a tiny fallout shelter no one can escape from.

15. Neighbor AU - better known as "Like a Good Neighbor," also in active publication. Phil, Tommy and Wilbur are found family, and they slowly bring Phil's weird neighbor Techno into the fold. In doing so, they discover that Techno's past is still haunting him, and eventually they find themselves wrapped up in it too.

16. Not quite a WIP, but I have a month's worth of AU prompts that I'm planning to do a daily drabble event with! Most likely in August (get it, starts with AU), but we'll see if school allows me the time. I'm probably gonna post the prompts on here at some point so anyone else who wants to participate can do so!

*deep breath* aaand there ya have it! 16-ish WIPs in varying degrees of completion and publication (and likelihood of ever getting done, shh). Feel free to ask for more details on any of the above if you like, but I understand that this is already a fuck ton of information to take in, hah. Tysm for the opportunity to info dump <3

[doiefy]

shadow // lee taeyong // preview

PART 2 of SEOUL 2463

genre: fluff, angst, sci-fi, dystopia, screenplay pairing: taeyong x f. reader (oc self-insert) word count: expected 20k warnings: language, slighty graphic depictions of violence and blood, mentions of alcohol, mentions of death, arranged marriages release: june 2021 

featuring @jisungiest​ <3

tag list:  @ncttboo @yongflm @sprngfeverr @sungchanscult @neonun-au​ reply, message or Ask to be added! :) 

Taeyong is supposed to be perfect: the perfect son, a perfect prodigy, a perfectly poised figure manipulated into what the world wants him to be. His life is crystal glasses of aged wine and blood splattered gloves, prestige social gatherings and nights alone in the city. It’s on one of those nights that he meets you, the bored bartender who refuses to serve him drinks until he talks to her. You are his exact opposite: perfectly carefree, perfectly flawed, perfectly normal. And the one person his world doesn’t want him to be with.

Light should cast no shadow, but his hovers dangerously close behind him, threatening to swallow him up in darkness.

Important Notes:

Since this fic is in the format of a script, I decided against constantly using "Y/N" or "____" for the purposes of a more cohesive appearance. I've given the female lead a name, but if you'd like to self-insert, the idea is that you're starring in a movie alongside Taeyong and playing the role of the main character. 

The events of this fic take place right after the events of 5 minutes. It can be read on its own, but will contain spoilers as to what happens to Yuta and the reader in his story. For the purposes of this fic, Yuta's readers is female, and has also been given a name.

This work will not be published on Tumblr.

I’ve decided to write the story as a screenplay script and since Tumblr is a horrible place for formatting and fun things, I’ll be publishing the full thing on Google Sites. 

the site is here, and i’ve already posted a cast page and short preview.  note: i’m not quite sure why, but the site hasn’t been loading for me on safari. chrome seems to be fine though! 

NOW POSTED: READ HERE

small preview below the cut! full preview is on the site. fair warning, format’s horrible on tumblr :) 

EXT. SEOUL - SECTOR 4 - NIGHT

We open on a burning building.

Flashes of golden light, white flames that rage too violently for this to be an accidental fire. Subsequent EXPLOSIONS shower the streets with glass and metal; distant sirens accompany an ominous rumbling.

          NEWS REPORTER (V.O., muted , distorted by static)          A deadly blast in Sector 4 has reportedly killed eight workers and injured fifteen.

CUT TO:

Silence.

The same facility now sits in a pile of rubble, and the fire has been put out. Someone’s standing on a rooftop across the street: LEE TAEYONG (27). Bold, charismatic, a whole badass in his black tactical gear with twin blades strapped to his sides--yet somehow in a way that’s unassuming enough. He’s watching a group of ANDROIDS cleaning up below.

All around him is SEOUL: an endless metropolis of flashing colours, criss-crossing highways and skyscrapers. Jagged shapes and smooth curves mesh together harmoniously, in ways that seem to defy gravity.

          NEWS REPORTER (V.O.)           The source of the explosion has not yet been confirmed, but police suspect that the incident is connected to an attempted hijacking carried out by members of the Resistance…

CUT TO:

A dark ALLEY. Scrappy. Damp. The voice of the news reporter continues in the background, almost inaudibly. Taeyong is chasing someone: two shadowy figures stumble around ahead of him, injured.

A sharp crackle of noise and flash of blue light sends both of them crashing. Still, someone is mumbling an indistinct string of numbers, passing a hand over the brick wall as he struggles to pull himself to his feet. Suddenly, a section of the wall lights up, rippling like a mirage, and the tips of the man’s fingers dip into it.

CUT TO:

Silence again. Taeyong on the rooftop. A wry grimace is starting to form on his lips as he surveys the route he took earlier.

CUT TO:

Faces. NAKAMOTO YUTA (27) and YOO JISOO (26). He hurriedly grabs her by the wrist, and both pass into the wall with ease. The brick solidifies mere moments before Taeyong arrives. He approaches, haphazardly upturns pieces of junk strewn around the alleyway, only to find his targets gone.

One final shot of him in the alley, then in a similar stance on the roof.

SMASH TO BLACK

TITLE CARD: SHADOW

[feetoffire]

Captain Christopher Pike, the rec list

I had this almost finished and ready to post, and then the kitten wiped everything, so here it is, a gazillion years later than I wanted. Yay. 

Ongoing - the fic is complete, but not all chapters are posted

WIP - fic isn’t finished

Incomplete - last-updated-more-than-a-year-ago WIPs

recs under the cut; spoilers abound

AOS

Gen

Pike’s Office by AnxiouslyGoing. Poor Jim has a Tarsus related panic attack, and ends up sleeping in Pike’s office/on Pike’s lap. Academy Era, bonus appearance by Spock, dad!Pike. 2k oneshot.

Another Life by LullabyKnell. Time travel fix it for ST2009. As ever, LullabyKnell gave us a spectacular, delightfully well-written fic. Dadmiral Pike, even if he’s technically a captain at this point. No pairings, everything is platonic. 12 chapters, 61k, T. Complete. 

Watching the Cloud of Dust by AngelQueen. Pike runs into Spock Prime while seeing the Enterprise off. Cue melancholy fluff (it follows Spock Prime around like a dog). 1.7k oneshot, G.

Phil Boyce/Chris Pike

horizons universe by gracieminabox. Massive, massive series spanning the whole of Chris’ life. Not canon compliant, i.e. Pike Lives. “Christopher Pike, in word and in deed.” Series, 263k in seventeen parts, G-E. 

Altered Horizons by InsaneSociopath. The bar fight goes very differently because Chris gets elbowed in the face. Featuring depressed!bipolar!Chris, who is Not Having A Good Time, Emergency Department (ED) doc Bones, and mother-hen!Jim. Phil is essentially Sir Not Appearing In This Fic, but he and Chris are married. Seven chapters, 14k, G. Incomplete. I adore this one. 

When Darkness Drifts by InsaneSociopath. Tarsus fic. Jim gets adopted by Starfleet but still ends up on Tarsus, except Chris is there. All Tarsus-related warnings apply. Jim and Chris centric; Phil is most present in the last few chapters. Six chapters, 44k, M. Complete. 

Kinktober 2017 by nerdqueenenterprise. What it says on the tin. Series, 13k in eight parts, T-E. Complete. 

A Vacation Long Overdue by nerdqueenenterprise. Reunion sex, mostly. They haven’t seen each other in six months, so they take leave on a remote beach. ~9k oneshot, E. 

The Weight of a Man by imachar. Another huge series charting the evolution of Chris and Phil’s relationship. Both canon compliant and canon non-compliant, so there’s a choice if you want it. Series, 174k in sixteen parts, M-E. Complete. 

shatterproof by gracieminabox. Will Make You Cry. Phil’s POV, STID compliant, featuring a picture from their early days. 4.3k oneshot, M.

Winged Desires and Veiled Persuasions by imachar. Post-Narada, ignores/was written before STID. Bones ends up hanging out with Phil and Chris at Spuhura’s wedding reception, and then the three of them have sex in Phil and Chris’ hotel suite. Pretty much pure smut. 12k oneshot, E. 

McPike

The Wind and Its Satellite by severinne. Long series, some BDSM, eventual Bones/Jim/Pike. Something of a McPike classic. Series, 186k in twenty parts, M-E.

Partridge Fallen From the Pear Tree by severinne. Post-divorce Bones works as a prostitute to make ends meet. Pike comes to town to recruit him, ends up paying for a night without knowing Bones is Bones, and then they both freak the fuck out when Pike realizes who he is. More-or-less just smut and angst. Pre-canon. Three chapters, 12k, E. Complete.

Singularities Verse by FrancescaMonterone. Bones and Pike fall in love, Pike adopts Chekov, Jim is Jim. Bonus Admirals Archer and Reed, and Archer/Reed. Mostly pre-canon, ace Pike. Series, 81k in six parts, T. WIP. 

Need by Noranem. Post STID, Pike and Bones invite Jim into their relationship and their bed. Established McPike, early days Bones/Jim/Pike. Four chapters, 12k, E. Complete. 

Pirk

See All The Stars by HoneyBeeBritt. Chris and Jim fell in love some time before Daystrom. Fluff and angst, with a happy ending promised in part four. I come back to this one regularly, especially part one. Series, 6.2k in three parts, T-M. Ongoing.

Shining On The Quay by topaz. Post-Narada through Beyond, ignores STID. Chris and Jim fall in love, get together, and figure out how to keep a relationship going when one of them is in space and the other is an admiral. Series, 32k in three parts, E. Complete. 

You Still Got Wheels, Kid by withthepilot. Yes, this is partially on here because it’s one of the few (good) fem!Pike fics. Pre-canon, Pike finds out Jim’s alive because she (not Winona or Sam) is listed as his emergency contact. Prostitute Jim. Takes place two years before canon, I think. 12k oneshot, E. 

Moments along the path by InsaneSociopath. Jim, through no fault of his own, is assigned to Pike as an aide bc Command thinks he’s a loose cannon. Pike is delighted /s. (he warms up eventually.) Some Tarsus PTSD; also a fair amount of fluff. Academy Era slow burn that goes right through to (immediately) post-Narada. 46k oneshot, M. Second chapter is artwork. Long but 100% worth it. 

How Do You Want Me, How Do You Want Me? by babykid528. Get together via smut. Feelings abound but talking about them does not. 3k oneshot, E. 

The Ocean Between Us by severinne. They get a drink in a bar. They’re both dead. Something of a get-together fic. Can and Will sucker punch you with feels. STID compliant. 1k oneshot, T.

Mutual Profusion of Good Feeling (aka Wherein the Aliens have a Flair for Mood Lighting) by kayliemalinza. This doesn’t really count as Pirk, but it’s not platonic enough for the gen category. Away mission, the premise is ‘aliens made them do it’ but there’s no sex or fade to black. Romantic, I guess? I really don’t know, but the prose is gorgeous. Also a Pike Lives/returns to the Enterprise AU. 5k oneshot, T.

Timeline Shenanigans

In plain view by IceCream_Junkie, Killermanatee. Pike/Pike. What can I say? The image of Greenwood’s Pike and Mount’s Pike together is very pretty. 2k oneshot, E.

Out of This World by TheAsexualofSpades. Space Puns. That is all. 1.1k oneshot, G. 

Discovery/quasi-SNW

Gen

A Small Storm by EKthered. Spock goes to visit his captain and ends up comforting him instead. Post Boreth. 2.3k oneshot. 

you were never broken by ordinary things by SiderumInCaelo. Michael Burnham & Chris Pike. Michael has only an inkling of what’s going on, but she manages to comfort Chris anyway. Post Boreth. 1.2k oneshot. 

Piler | Chris Pike/Ash Tyler

the chair and the badge by ninjamcgarrett. The boys are soft and in love. Lots of smut, but a fair amount of plot. Their respective traumas are addressed too, so there’s plenty of h/c. Honestly? My favorite from this pairing. Series, 59k in five parts, M-E. Ongoing. 

Reality by aishahiwatari. Initially a take on how these two idiots settled their differences, and evolution from there. Part two is post-season two of Disco. Series, 5k in two parts, E. Complete.

survival is insufficient by topaz. Post-Disco; they get together to remember Discovery’s crew, and then they get together. Traumas are addressed. Part two is a sort-of case fic, TW starvation. Series, 33k in two parts, E. WIP.

Feeling Too Deeply by NightOfTheLand. Established Piler, post-Disco season two couch sex. 6k oneshot, E. 

dancing to a beat of our own, flying with the speakers blown by wolfhalls. Neither of them want to talk about anything, aka Horrible Coping Mechanisms TM. Bottom Pike, quasi-hurt/comfort. 2.7k oneshot, E. 

Christmas in Sickbay by lah_mrh. Chris is accident- and injury-prone and has a new reason to hate spiders. Ash just wants to spend time with his boyfriend. 1k oneshot, G. 

The Pillow Will Disappear When I Forget I Put a Pillow There, Worry Not by prototype_malice. Sleepy fluff and cuddles. (they deserve it.) 665 words, oneshot, G. 

Chris Pike/Una | Number One 

it will take place without witnesses by love_in_the_time_of_kohlinahr. Post Disco, Pike is struggling with the knowledge of his future, so he and Una play chess until stupid o’clock in the morning (as one does), and then he lowkey has a panic attack. Una POV. Also features sleepy sex, but it isn’t plot-important and can be skipped over, if you wish. 2k oneshot, E. 

Overtime by Astronoddingoff. Una has Thoughts about Chris working doubles for the better part of a week. Also men get pegged. Definite sub!Chris. 7k oneshot, E. 

Terminal Velocity by Astronoddingoff. Una pegs Chris and drags his favorite fantasy out of him. Chris is On Board with all of this. Implied poly!Chris (i.e. Boyce/Pike) and hardcore switch/sub vibes from Chris. 6.8k oneshot, E. 

All for One by knightinmourning. D/s universe, where Pike had/has to hide the fact that he’s a sub to make (and stay) captain. Mostly reccing for part two, which has a fair amount of hurt/comfort (and also hints at threatened sexual assault and definite torture; be forewarned). Technically also Chris/Phil and Chris/Spock, but there’s no pairing sex, and part two is entirely Una’s POV. Series, 4.2k in two parts, M-E. Probably incomplete. 

A Gentle Touch by jedi_harkness. Chris and Una shower together. Body worship, no sex. So Much Fluff (and also happy tears). It’s super sweet. 1.7k oneshot, T.

Phil Boyce/Chris Pike

Decompression by Astronoddingoff. Chris is elated by a recent treaty success and the time spent dirtside. Phil does his best to make him even happier. Lowkey sub Pike. Implied poly!Chris (i.e. Pike/One). 3.5k oneshot, E. 

Most Pike/Boyce fics fall under the AOS tags

Una/Phil/Chris

Triangulate by Astronoddingoff. Sex pollen, but they’re already-kind-of-mostly in an established relationship. Recent miscommunications lead to angst. They all love each other and they’re all idiots. Lowkey sub Pike. Two chapters, 20k, E. 

Holy by Astronoddingoff. Self-actualizing featuring religious guilt/conflict, i.e. Pike is a sub and religion is weird about enjoying yourself. 2.7k oneshot, E. 

Happy Birthday by MeganMoonlight. It’s Phil’s birthday. Cue breakfast in bed. 530 word oneshot, G. 

[theanimeview]

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT SKATE-LEADING☆STARS (Spoilers)

By: Peggy Sue Wood | @peggyseditorial​

I have said it before, and I will say it many more times--of that I am sure. I used to be a competitive figure skater. It was a long time ago, I had stop in high school due to several consecutive head injuries but I still love and follow the sport (I also still skate, just not competitively). 

When Yuri!!! on Ice was out, I loved it because it showed a lot of the cultural parts of skating. The travel, the personality types (in some cases, though not as much), the publicity, the news coverage, etc. We had cameos of famous skaters, we got to see competitions in a pretty realistic way, costuming, the dance and/or gymnastics that skaters must do on and off the ice, and so much more! (I could probably nerd about all the easter eggs and everything else all day long.) The skating in Yuri!!! on Ice is good too. The sounds are near perfect and the movements, though a bit stiff due to the use of CGI, are accurate. 

THAT ASIDE I think Skate-Leading☆Stars is better. In regards to the culture of skaters, SL☆S falls way short but that’s alright. After all, this is a sports anime set in a high school where sports is an all consuming entity and reality takes a back seat to guys with eccentric hair colors. The skating is what's important here and OH LET ME TELL YOU it is near perfect.

Let’s look at this: 

This is our MC, Kensei Maeshima, doing a triple axel (I think they called it a quadruple in the anime which would mean 4 spins but I counted 3 so I’m calling it a triple for now). It’s the only jump that takes off going forward in skating and is one of the most difficult jumps. All of the movement here is accurate--from the way he jumps up and straightens his legs as soon as possible with arms tucked in to help the spin, to the way he lands with a slight bend of the knee, curving around and throwing out the arms for balance (and flare). 

It’s gorgeous. And it continues. When we see Kensei practicing, we get these shots: 

A Sit Spin ^

Crossovers ^

And a Salchow ^ (I think it is Salchow, but if could be a Lutz--the uncertainty comes from me finding it difficult to decipher which edge he’s on before jumping).

ALL OF THESE are beautifully animated and correct--from the way he pulls his arms in quickly and straightens his legs before bending for the landing again to the way he moves after landing. 

Crossovers are especially good as they help build momentum quickly before jumps, allowing a skater to travel more during their jump. 

And when he falls, you see something else that they train you for in skating--how to fall. It’s literally the first thing I was taught when I began taking lessons. Let me explain--in the gif above where he falls coming out of the Salchow, we see this:

He landed on the correct foot, but was still coming out of the last half of his last turn. His other foot, which is meant to swing out, around, and behind him, before guiding the glide out of said jump, hits the ice at an angle as he lands thus causing most of the ice shaving we see happening to the top layer of ice as his other foot slides out from under him. 

Now, if your feet went out from under you--the first thing that you might do automatically is go to your knees or hands to protect your fall. In skating, it’s a bit different. If you fall, your aim is to quickly move to try and let your butt or thighs take the hit while trying to avoid joints (knees, elbows, and wrists) and head injuries. What does Kensei do? He quickly turns to land on his butt first:

His hand skims the ice, but he moves it up, and off the ice as he bounces:

He then turns during the bounce, aiming to land on his thighs (less painful in my experience, and less risk of a tailbone or head injury as you continue to bounce and slide on the ice). His arm extends outward to avoid hitting his elbow directly on the ice with the weight of his upper body against it, while moving the arm up, placing his bicep closer to the head (which will help prevent his head from smacking against the ice):

Finally, he stops sliding and has, officially, “landed” his fall:

Note how the head is tucked in, resting a bit on the bicep, his elbow is not being leaned against (or broken after this fall) since it is laying flat, and how he is on his side? Yeah. That’s a pretty great fall. 

You’d be a little scratched up after that if the ice was rough and since he wasn’t wearing a jacket/gloves--but you’d probably avoid bruising or any severe injuries. The reason for the fall was probably a combination of the scratched up ice (which he credits), being out of practice, and his need for more muscle training.  Still, AWESOME. He’s doing really well for being as out of practice as he is. 

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE STORY??

Okay--Now that I’ve nerded out about the skating I’ll talk about the larger story.

Kensei is hated by his current team. It reminds me a lot of the hate that was given towards Ren Mihashi in Big Windup! prior to transferring schools. 

Kensei is obviously very talented--I mean, not everyone can come back from being off the ice FOR YEARS and do jumps like that without seriously hurting themselves and falling all over the place. It’s not like riding a bike--it’s more like highly skilled dancing... on blades... on a very slippery surface where you are likely to seriously break something. His team hates him for some reason, and act like he’s not a team player or something but he doesn’t come off that way. Perhaps a bit overly confident for their liking, but he clearly has the skills to back it up and we have proof that he can play on a team since we’re shown him playing basketball in Episode 1 and told that he’s played on and been scouted by a number of other teams at the school.

If they dislike him because of him quitting for a while, I’d say they need to get over it because we learn in the first few minutes of the anime that before Kensei’s last competition he lost both his parents--who were professional ice-skaters--in a traumatic accident. 

In the flashback we see of him as a child, the reference point for why so many of his current teammates seem to hate him, we see that Kensei doesn’t seem to have any friends. In fact, our antagonist Reo Shinozaki is the one seen surrounded by people and other kids. While Reo doesn’t seem to regard any of his peers as being friends or equals, it’s pretty clear that he is at least liked more by the other kids than Kensei who is alone. 

As a teen, Kensei has made several friends outside of skating which we see in the current episodes but he still hasn’t made much headway with the other skaters--though at least one of the older kids, Yukimitsu Mochizuki, is nice to him. Some of the members are obviously mad at him for something and wish he wasn’t part of the team and maybe that’s because of his boisterous personality but more likely its due to something more petty, like jealousy or envy at Kensei’s skill or some sort of lack in communication. (Remember, they were all individual competitors going against each other at one point, and when your friends are also who you actively compete against it can get pretty ugly.) 

That’s not to say Kensei is without flaws. As mentioned, he is overly confident at points and makes careless statements about a few of the other members’ being of lower skill or caliber than him despite knowing that he is out of practice and that they take the sport very seriously. If I was to apply this to my own experience as a former skater, it may be like when I had a falling out with many of my skating friends after I had to stop competing and no longer attended lessons. Many of them, particularly at our young age and level, couldn’t imagine giving up skating for any reason aside from losing life or a limb. Concussions or the after effects didn’t feel real to them (nor to me), and yet the pain I felt doing simple spins or moving quickly left me in pain and feeling like I had just slammed my head against the ice. Some felt like I was quitting just as the real competitions were getting started (entering adult competitions). One friend later told me that she felt like I had quit while I was ahead, “robbing” her of the chance to beat me, as though I would have know that. A few others said that it felt like I didn’t care about them or the sport anymore when I stopped coming to group lessons. Meanwhile, I felt like I was being abandoned and lost now that I couldn’t do the one thing that had consumed much of my free time and focus in life at that age... But it’s okay now, because I found anime. (JK--it all worked out as we got older and talked things through.)

I’m sure that as the series progresses, these combative issues within the team will work themselves out and I’m looking forward to it!

Comparatively, it feels a LOT like the Free! series (you remember that swimming anime we were all obsessed with?), though the focus on ice skating that we see within the series thus far (such as news stories, the number of clubs and schools that have ice skating clubs, youtube-videos, and other media) imply that ice skating is as prevalent there as basketball or volleyball. Which, as much as I’d love that to be true, is simply not the case. It’s fictionalized, obviously, and the story is really laying on the drama pretty thick from inter-team disharmony to a larger rivalry with our antagonist that said antagonist doesn’t even seem to register, think about, or give two hoots towards.

As for the rest of the fictional universe of this world... Uh. It’s a high school sports anime so what do you expect?

Simply put, it’s a standard story for this genre. 

I have not yet read the manga--but I plan to immediately. 8/10 recommend streaming on Funimation.com, and 10/10 on animation (if only for the skating). The next episode comes out on the 10th, so now is a great time to catch up! 

[tiffdawg]

The Light of Stars | Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

Gif: @bestintheparsec​

The Light of Stars

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 5.5k

Rating: M | Warnings: the typical angst and a little smooching, mild language. No spoilers for season two!

Story Summary: In pursuit of the Child’s people, the mysterious Jedi, Din Djarin and his foundling find hope in a woman who shares the kid’s strange powers. Newly partnered with the Mandalorian, you are trained in the ways of the Force, but you’re no Jedi. You’re just trying to find your place in the galaxy.

A/N: Hi! It's been a while – much longer than I ever intended and for that I apologize. I want to say thank you to you all for reading my story and sticking with me. And to everyone who left comments on previous chapters, you have all my love for ever. I really do cherish each and everyone. You all inspire me to keep writing! Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you read the latest installment of Jetii, Din, and Baby's (mis)adventures. This chapter is officially the beginning of the end!

Read on AO3

TLOS Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

The last few days were a blur as you cut across the galaxy at lightspeed. Time ceased to exist even as it passed you by, but it was uneventful in the best possible way as you spent what precious time you had left with the Mandalorian and his foundling quietly existing together.

You passed most of your time in the main cabin conversing with Mando. You always talked about your pasts. Never the future. But you considered yourself lucky to have that time with him. He spoke mostly of his youth with the Mandalorians and his early forays into bounty hunting, but occasionally he’d grace you with a story from his childhood. When he’d confessed that he hadn’t so much as said his parents' names aloud in decades but still found it within himself to share a treasured memory of them, you’d reached across the small space separating you to twine your fingers with his gloved ones as best you could. The words seemed to come a little easier after that. His life had been so full of sadness that you wondered if the last few weeks together had been an anomaly even with the chaos you’d brought into his life.

Down in the hull after tasteless meals of reconstituted food, you’d spent long hours reading texts from the Jedi holocron aloud to Mando while he disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled every blaster in his weapons locker twice-over. Other times he insisted on continuing your flying lessons but there wasn’t much to do as the ship sailed through hyperspace. During the infrequent fuel stops on lonely planets, you’d stretch your legs and find a quiet place to practice with the kid in consolation for long days spent trapped inside the ship.

That day, you’d landed on Mygeeto, a cold, frigid planet a few sectors from your final destination. Mando and the kid seemed unfazed by the icy winds, but you’d had to dig out your old parka just to walk to the closet cantina while the ship refueled. It was also a decently populated planet, big on mining and banking and a hub of trade. You were on the outskirts of a smaller spaceport, but it wasn’t somewhere you wanted to linger.

The docking bay was crowded with a steady rush of people coming and going earlier that morning. Now, when you stepped into the small, outdated docking bay ahead of the Mandalorian but behind the Child’s hovering carrier, it was deserted. Instantly, your eyes went to the fueling gear still hooked up to the Razor Crest. A quick glance around the bay told you the lone mechanic was nowhere to be seen. Most likely off working on one of the other starships. That meant the three of you were stuck on that icy, crystalline planet for at least a little while longer. 

That meant trouble.

“Mando–”

“I know,” he sighed. “I made them back at the cantina. They aren’t with the guild, but they’re definitely hunters.”

“Were you just hoping they wouldn’t follow us back to the ship?”

“I wanted to get you two back to the Crest.” He entered a code on his vambrace and canceled the ship’s security protocols. After the ramp lowered, he closed the baby’s carrier and sent it into the hull of the ship.

“There are six of them,” you said, raising a brow at him, “and they’re right behind us.”

“Not a problem, sweetheart.” He placed a hand on the blaster holstered at his hip. 

“Gods, you're cocky sometimes,” you retorted. Still, you extracted your lightsaber from your satchel before tossing the bag into the ship. It pained you to think that neither the baby nor Mando would be safe until that ex-Imp was taken care of for good. And even then, you worried about who else might know about the baby. You could only wish that wasn’t fated to be their only existence together. With his visor trained on you, his helmet tilted to the side. You shrugged as you took your place beside him.

“Don’t think I can handle it on my own?”

“I know you could, but you don’t have to,” you assured him. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes and found him watching you.

“I–”

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a noise coming from just beyond the entrance. Both of your heads snapped in that direction, alert and ready for a fight. 

When the first blaster shot rang out, Mando returned it with one of his own.

. 

“How many of them are there?” you shouted over the blast that rocked the Razor Crest. You’d mistakenly assumed you’d escaped after you’d fended off the six bounty hunters at the docking bay. The gunship fired back at Mando’s command.

“Down to two,” he answered as he hit a series of switches in rapid fire. He pulled the yoke and the ship took a nosedive through empty space. “Told you that spaceport was too big.”

“You didn’t say that.”

“I thought it.

Another hit set off one of the alarms. “Mando!” 

“We’re almost to the hyperlane. Once we hit lightspeed, they can’t track us. Just hold on!”

You sighed in relief at the familiar streaks of blue light of hyperspace. Mando’s seat swiveled to face you and the Child. “You alright?” he asked the kid. He chirped happily in response. “I figured.” He turned to you, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward in his chair. “How about you?” 

“I’m fine,” you assured him. You might’ve been a little rattled, but you’d seen worse. “We’re those the Moff’s men? How’d they track us to Mygeeto?”

“They didn’t.” A beat passed as you waited for him to explain. “They were already here. They’re amateurs. Gideon probably distributed fobs throughout the galaxy.” 

While you’d gotten a decent glimpse of it on Vrogas Vas, you were beginning to see the severity of his situation. The Empire might’ve fallen years ago, but this former Imp had not. He had the resources and the reach to find the Mandalorian and the Child. And you didn’t like the thought of him taking on the Moff alone. “Mando, can you do something for me?” 

“Anything,” he responded quickly.  

You hesitated, doubting he would think that in a moment. “Will you send a holo to your tribe before you leave for Nevarro.” He straightened up at that, ready to protest. “You’re going to need all of the help you can get.”

“I can’t ask them to put the covert at risk for me. Not again.”

“So you know they would come for you?”

“Yes,” he answered, voice straining around the word. 

“Do you think they hold what happened against you? Do you truly believe that any one of them regrets their choice?” He didn’t say anything, but you knew your assumption was right. And you knew his guilt was misplaced. They wouldn’t have welcomed him back, called him their brother, if that was the case. “You have to forgive yourself, Mando.” You unbuckled your safety restraints and kneeled before him. With a hand on the either curved cheek of his helmet, you forced him to look at you. You leveled him with a serious look, but he was unflinching, as still as ever. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“What?”

“They’re Mandalorians. They would want to fight with you. For you. How do you not see that?”

Wrapping his hands around your wrists, he pulled your hands away from his helmet. “I can’t do that for you.” 

“Can’t or won’t?” you snapped before you stood and left the cabin.

… . …

Drawing his eyes away from the streaks of light bending around the Razor Crest, Din found you still in your seat next to him and the Child carefully cradled to your chest. With matching expressions – eyes closed and lips slightly parted – you both slept peacefully. Din had half a mind to wake you and send you both to your room. Even that makeshift bunk had to be more comfortable than the contorted position you’d maneuvered yourself into in your chair. But as the baby moved in your grasp to snuggle further into you, tiny clawed hands gripping the front of your tunic even as he drooled on it, he hesitated to disturb the scene before him.

Somehow, in the span of a few weeks, Din’s entire universe had narrowed to the two of you. His foundling, of course, was already his primary focus in life. And then you showed up and without even meaning to, the three of you had become a family.

Din had a family.  

The realization struck him hard and fast, but quickly faded into something familiar. Something some part of him already knew because of course you were his family.

A soft smile pulled at the corner of Din’s mouth as the two of you dozed, bathed in blue starlight, until he realized that he wasn’t the only one who was going to miss you. The kid had grown fond of you, to say the absolute least. When he wasn’t toddling after Din or causing trouble, he was attached to your hip. But your days together were numbered.

He didn’t have time to dwell on that reality. He was suddenly pulled from deep within his own mind by the quiet beep of an incoming holo. With the flick of a single switch, Greef Karga’s figure, in miniature and cast in static blue light, appeared on the console.

Karga’s booming voice filled the silent cabin. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days, Mando.”

“I’ve been out of range.”

“While I’m sure your new quest has taken you to the furthest reaches of this galaxy, there are more pressing matters at hand here on Nevarro. Would you care to tell me why Moff Gideon, the man you supposedly killed, is amassing stormtroopers outside my city?” he asked pointedly. “Word is he’s looking for you.”

“I’m aware,” Din sighed. “I’ll be there in a few days. I have something I need to take care of first.”

“Something or someone?” Karga mused lowly with a deep chuckle. Din followed his line of sight. Next to him, you’d woken and leaned forward in your seat just enough for the holocam to pick up your image. You watched the guild leader with interest. “Who might this stunning creature be?”

“End of the week,” Din said curtly before switching off the holo.

“Who was that?” you asked. You spoke softly, mindful of the baby in your hold. Your tired gaze lingered on the spot where Karga’s figure stood a moment ago before drifting to Din. 

“No one.”

“Right,” you said with a gentle roll of your eyes. “I heard you mention Nevarro.”

“He’s an old associate.”

“A friend?” you supplied, brows lifting with the question.

“Sometimes.”

“Well, I imagine that means something coming from you.” There was a glint of humor in your eyes but faded into something more serious as you leveled him with a stern look. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go there first?” you asked, not for the first time. “You know I’m good in a fight.”

A small huff of a laugh escaped him. You could hold your own, of that he had no doubt. And the thought of having you with him for a few extra days was nothing short of tempting. Still, something told him that was how things were meant to happen. That was the original deal the two of you struck up, after all, and the course was already set. The Crest was less than a day out from the Lah’mu sector. It would be easier on his own heart to stick to it. Surprisingly, your argument from the day before had faded into the background. He’d come to expect more of a fight from you, but you’d rejoined him in the cockpit that morning as if nothing had happened.

He decided it was best not to prompt another argument. He stood and held out a hand to you. “It’s been a long day. You should go to bed.”

You placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet before you gently handed the still-sleeping baby to him. “You should too.”

 .

The kid didn’t so much as stir as Din placed him in his makeshift hammock above his cot. He started to remove his armor, stowing the Beskar for a few hours of much needed reprieve. Lost deep in his own tired mind, he didn’t hear you emerge from the ship’s small refresher.

“What’s that?”

 “What?”

“That.” He glanced over his shoulder at you just in time to see you gesturing toward the compartment.

“Exactly what it looks like.” That time he heard you move closer to him as you peered around his form.

“You’ve been sleeping here?” you asked incredulously. “I thought there was another bunkroom.”

“No,” Din answered flatly. He couldn’t see why that was an issue – especially at the late hour but the scowl on your face as you moved between him and the compartment told him that you expected a better explanation. “Technically there aren’t any bunkrooms on the Crest. Yours was extra carbonite storage for backlog. I converted it recently because the kid kept trying to crawl in here with me and there’s not exactly enough space for two. I wasn’t taking on any quarries so I figured it would work temporarily.”

“And you gave it to me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why would you do that?” 

“It’s nothing,” he said, hoping to brush it off.

“Mando,” you sighed, sounding stuck somewhere between exasperation and gratitude. You pursed your lips as you looked back at the cot. “This the sorriest excuse for a bed I’ve ever seen. I’m not letting you sleep here.” 

“Where would you have me sleep?” he asked, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

“In your bed,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. You could be so stubborn when you wanted. Almost as stubborn as him. 

“And you?” he asked.

“I’ll be there too.” There was a hint of a mischievous smile playing on your lips. 

“Last time–” 

Your voice dropped to a whisper, but it was enough to make him forget the rest of his sentence. “I miss having you in my bed.” 

A chill shot down his spine and settled low inside him as he watched you scale the ladder that led to your room and left him to follow. Just before you disappeared, you threw a playful insult back at him. “Di’kut.”

His chest deflated as a deep sigh fell from his lips. “Let me guess who taught you that,” he called after you, rolling his eyes at your receding figure. He sealed the small compartment and followed you up.

“You had your chance to teach me nice things in Mando’a,” you retorted. “Now I can insult you seven ways to Scarif!”

 “Great,” he muttered with a light laugh.

“To be fair,” you offered when he finally walked into your small bunkroom, “Paz called me an idiot too.”

Din froze at the threshold as a cold fear rushed over him. “He told you his name?” he hissed. 

“Yeah.” You said it almost lightly, but Din heard the slight edge undercutting your words. He knew you understood the significance of the act. He could see it in the way you teased your bottom lip between your teeth. “I didn’t ask. He just told me. He said it was okay,” you tried to clarify. “It’s not like I expect you–”

“Do you want to know?” he replied quickly despite not knowing if he was prepared to give it if you said yes. While there were a few select people who knew his name now, he had never shared it with anyone himself. If Vizsla could share his name with someone outside the covert, then so could he. Right?

“Of course I do. I want to know all of you,” you started slowly. You stepped closer to him, gently resting your hands on his last piece of armor. Your eyes followed the path of your fingers as you traced the mended edge of his cuirass. “But I only want what pieces of yourself you want to share with me. I would never ask.” 

“I know you wouldn’t. You never ask for anything.” 

“I asked you to come to bed with me,” you teased, trying to divert the conversation.

“No. You told me.” You smiled almost shyly and made to move away, but Din reached for your hands and held you in place. “Ask me for something. I’ll give it to you.” You eyed him for a long moment as you considered his request. He could see the thoughts racing in your mind. “Ask me for anything,” he repeated. 

“Anything?” 

“Yes.”

“I want you to promise me something.”

“A promise?” His brows furrowed behind the visor.

“Do you remember our last conversation that morning at the covert? Because I haven’t forgotten it.” Neither had Din. He nodded once and you squeezed his hands. “No matter what answers we find on Lah’mu, no matter where your journey takes you and your son next, no matter how many years or decades it’s been since we parted,” you took a deep breath as your voice wavered, “I want you to promise me that you will pursue a life that makes you happy. The both of you. Whatever that may be.” 

Din had no response to that. He’d given you permission to ask him for anything and for some godsforsaken reason you asked for his happiness. He was struck, hardly for the first time, by just how much good there was in you. That you could possibly care about him that way even amidst your own turmoil. He would’ve preferred you ask him to call his tribe members for help. “Sweetheart–” he tried to admonish.

“Promise me, you stubborn Mandalorian,” you demanded with a new fire in your eyes. “You said you would give me anything. That’s what I want. If I can’t— If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy.” When he didn’t say anything, you pleaded. “Please, Mando.” 

Lifting a hand to the back of your head, he drew you closer to him and gently pressed his helmet to your forehead, kissing you in the only way he could in that moment. “I promise,” Din swore even though that didn’t change the fact that there was only one way he ended up happy.

“Thank you,” you sighed as if he’d given you something you needed. Without parting, your fingers dipped beneath the edge of his cuirass. “May I?” He nodded against you and you pulled just enough to deactivate the magnetic hold. Others had tried to take his armor off in the past, usually by force, but with you it felt like a barrier. Something keeping him from what he really wanted. 

As Din laid in the too-small bunk with you, your words echoed in his mind. If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy. With every quiet moment that passed, each one somehow longer than the next, he seemed to move closer to you, and you to him, until you met somewhere in the middle. His forehead knocked against yours again and as your breath ghosted across his face, he fought his overwhelming desire to kiss you. Really kiss you. To show you just how much your care for him affected him. But he remembered what happened the last time you’d tried something like that. It ended with you crying into his chest as he held you through the long night. 

He asked anyway. “Can I kiss you?” he rasped.

“I thought you just did, Mandalorian,” you teased.

He rolled you over onto your back, caging you in as he leaned on his elbows to hover above you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he rasped. 

Before you could offer some smart retort, he slotted his mouth over yours. Despite his eagerness, he felt clumsy and unpracticed. Considering he’d never kissed anyone before you, he absolutely was. You were the only one he’d ever wanted like this. Based on the breathy little noises you made for him, you didn’t seem to mind his inexperience.

He pressed the weight of his body into yours, pinning you beneath him, until there was no space between you. You were molded to him and him to you in a way that felt natural. It felt right. He was growing accustomed to it even as he knew he shouldn’t. But those moments with you, unmasked and exposed, were too enticing.

Din never said he was a good man.

… . …

In the light of an early morning, you ran through an open field surrounded by a forest of tall evergreens. Soft wild grass cushioned each stride as you sprinted toward the tree line, chasing the fresh, spicy scent. Behind you, someone pursued you at full speed. 

No. That wasn’t right.

You glanced over your shoulder only to find not one but two young children sprinting after you, squealing and smiling. Your heart practically burst at the sight of their unbridled joy and a laugh of your own bubbled past your lips. You slowed your pace, giving in to them easily, and two sets of arms wrapped around your legs. You knelt in the dewy grass, rewarding them with snug hugs and kisses on their chubby cheeks, and earning yourself another jubilant round of laughter from them both. 

Together, they begged you to chase them next, and unable to deny them anything, you readily agreed. You stood, shooing them off to get a head start. But they wouldn’t run away just yet. Not when they were too distracted by something behind you. Another pair of arms, only much stronger, wrapped around you.

The kids ran off, shouting catch us, dad! A low rumble reverberated through your back as the man behind you laughed at the children’s wild antics. Your eyes fell closed as you leaned into him, deciding you’d follow the children in a moment. Right then all you wanted was to savor his embrace. It felt like the closest thing to home you’d ever known.

You turned your head as if to look over your shoulder and a pair of lips met yours. Even after the kiss ended, you didn’t part. The feel of his smile hovering against your lips was almost as intoxicating as his kiss.

 “Good morning, Din,” you sighed.

.

You startled awake with a sharp inhale.

Disoriented and scared, you tried to make sense of what you’d just seen. That dream felt real. Too real. Considering the turn your life had taken in the past few weeks, you had no idea what it was. A remnant of your vision. An offering from the Force. Or just your imagination playing tricks on you. It seems like the closer you get to Lah’mu, the more the Force saw fit to taunt you with that other future.

Your eyes searched the pitch-black room for some sort of sign as to where you were, but you couldn’t see anything. Instead, you felt an arm around your waist, holding you securely.

Mando’s arm.

You were still on the Razor Crest, tucked away in your shared bunk that was too small for the both of you, and he was fast asleep behind you, warm and solid. You felt him shift behind you, lifting his head from his pillow to look down at you in the dark.

“Are you okay?” he asked hoarsely. Even in sleep that man missed nothing. Mando’s hold on you tightened, pulling you back against his chest.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “Just a dream.”

“Another nightmare?” 

“No. Not quite. Just...” You screwed your eyes shut and tried to banish the lingering images, or rather sensations, of that other man from your mind. Mando’s voice cut through your daze as he called your name, drawing you back into the present. “Just strange. It almost felt like another vision.”     

“Of your future on Lah’mu?” 

“I don’t think so.”

Din shifted closer. “Your other future?”

“Yes,” you offered meekly.

“What do you dream of? With him?” The question hurt and you said nothing for a long time. The more time you spent with Mando and the baby, the more certain you were that you’d made the right choice. A life on Lah’mu as a lonely Jedi master was more appealing than a future with a stranger you could never love. Not when your heart belonged to the man lying next to you. Seeing him amongst his people had only reinforced your conclusion that Mando was not the man in your vision. It was not the way. His way. But you supposed that didn’t matter and you were only making yourself upset for no reason by reminding yourself of the fact. You’d chosen your path. “You can tell me,” he prompted again.

You shook your head and craned your neck to face him even though he couldn’t see you. You were so close your noses brushed, but he made no move to part. “No, I don’t think I can.” 

A tension hung between you as you waited for his response. “The offer stands,” he finally replied.

“And I appreciate that.” But all you really wanted was to put that dream out of your mind and forget about it entirely. The man next to you provided the perfect distraction. 

You closed that last bit of space between you, letting your mouths meet in a slow, lingering kiss. His soft, slightly chapped lips matched with yours with aching tenderness. Just like that, with him, you felt safe from all the uncertainties your future held. You decided you could indulge in it just a little while longer. Continue what he’d started the night before.

“Good morning, Mando,” you sighed around a lazy smile when you finally parted.

“Good morning, cyar’ika.”

He sounded happier, and your grin pulled taut and you turned in his arms. Holding his face with your hands, your lips melded with his again. He didn’t start at your touch anymore. He sought it out. With a hand gripping your hip, he pressed you closer.

“I could stay right here,” you murmured your confession against his lips in between hungry kisses, “forever.”

“Fuck, so could I,” he admitted. You slipped your tongue into his mouth as his lips parted around his words, earning a broken, desperate moan from him. 

He let you roll him into his back, and you moved so that you were on top of him, a knee pressing into the thin mattress on either side of him. Your hungry mouths slotted together once more.

You longed to feel his skin against yours again and as his hands slid lower, you thought he was going to free you from your tunic. But then his hands traveled further, past the hemline, over your hips and just kept going until he squeezed the swell of your backside, fingers digging into your fabric covered flesh, and ground your hips down against him. Against something hard.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped into his mouth. He chuckled darkly against your cheek as he did it again. That had no right to feel that good. You’d had your suspicions, but knowing he wanted you like that was a whole new thrill. “Eager this morning?” you asked as you searched for breath.

“You started it,” he said low and teasing while nipping at your bottom lip.

“Let me kiss you while I can.” He stilled his movements beneath you. You’d meant it as a joke, but it hurt. You pulled away and rested your head against his chest, letting out a long, slow exhalation as that all-consuming melancholy that seeped into the stolen moment. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

“It’s fine,” he ground out. It wasn’t fine. You could hear it in his voice. Even as he moved you off of him with the gentlest touch, you felt the distance growing between you once more. He slipped out of the bunk and you listened to him search for his helmet in the dark, but you sensed him hesitate and he turned back to you, cupping your face between his hands and pressing his lips to yours. There was something about this kiss that felt different. There was a desperate sort of passion that sends adrenaline coursing through your veins. You return it with equal fervor, pouring all your love for him into that kiss. 

“What was that for?” you asked when he finally parted from you.

“I never know.”

“Know what?”

When he spoke next, his voice came to you filtered through the modulator. “I never know when it will be our last.”

The truth of his words tore through you, leaving you feeling cold as you packed your things and emptied the converted bunkroom of all traces of you.

.

After descending the Razor Crest’s ramp, your boots hit the soft grass first, sinking slightly into the black soil that covered the planet. A cool, misty air kissed your skin as you stepped away from the safety of the ship. Your eyes scanned the green valley, landing on the small settlement that dotted the landscape.

You felt Mando approach. He stopped a half step behind you, but his presence felt heavy, almost overwhelming, as you tried to focus. Still, you knew he’d wait for your call.

“She’s here,” you announced quietly, voice barely audible over the crashing waves. You peered back at him over your shoulder, finding his dark visor already trained on you. His helmet tilted slightly. Your heart swelled with affection at the familiar, inquisitive movement. You were well beyond chastising yourself for the sentiment, even if it hurt. “And I think she’s close.” You tore your eyes away from him, ignoring the way the words seemed to get stuck in your throat. Finding your former master had been your goal for years. Now, for the first time in nearly a decade, the two of you were on the same planet. Yet you felt no joy at that momentous fact.

You felt a steady hand rest between your shoulder blades. “I’m right behind you, cyar’ika. Lead the way.”

.

After a few hours of trekking along the base of the rolling hills at the direction of one talkative settler, you found a lone woman meditating in a grassy field. She faced away from you, but the lavender hair styled in a low chignon and dark flowing robes told you exactly who she was.

“Wait here,” you directed without ever taking your eyes off of her. A familiar hand wrapped around yours, stalling you. “It’ll be okay, Mando, but you have to let go.”

You took another step forward and your hand slipped out of his. When you stopped a few paces away, you hesitated. Even after all the years you’d spent searching for your former master, you never figured out what you wanted to say. 

Before you could so much as open your mouth, a flash of violet light cut across your vision. Reacting on instinct, you reached for your lightsaber, blocking the attack at the last moment.

Falling back a step, you grounded yourself before meeting her next strike. A clash of blue and purple plasma sputtered before you. Over the cross of your sabers, you saw her calculating amber eyes flick to the side as she lifted a hand. Daring a glance back, you saw Mando frozen in place, blaster drawn and ready to fire. 

The force behind your next attack sent Zarichi reeling. 

“You hurt them,” you said through gritted teeth in between parries, “and I’ll strike you down where you stand.”

“You don’t have it in you,” she scoffed.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“I taught you everything.” Her next drive, three strong blows you narrowly managed to counter, landed you flat on your back with her saber at your neck. The slightest move would’ve singed your skin. “And you’re out of practice, padawan.” 

Before she could so much disengage her lightsaber, she was thrown across the field by some unseen force. You watched her tumble to the ground in a heap before snapping your head to the kid. He stood next to his father, hand outstretched and eyes closed. “Damn,” you breathed.

Zarichi stood and dusted herself off, eyes locked on the baby at Mando’s side. “How curious,” she assed, with a hint of a laugh. Without another word, she set off back toward the settlement. Sighing, you fell back against the grass.

With the baby clutched to his chest and a hand on his hip, Mando appeared above you. “That’s your master?” He didn’t sound amused.

“What’d you expect?” you asked with a shrug. “She’s a Jedi.”

... . ...

Thank you for reading!

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin @pedropasscals @paintballkid711 @mistermiraclee @cryptkeepersoul @honeyand-roses

The Light of Stars Tags: @roxypeanut @mrsparknuts @evidenceofzoe @holographic-carmen @wickedfrsgrl @buckysalefty @justabeautiful-letdown

[makeste]

BnHA 6th Popularity Poll Reaction Post - Risky Spoiler-Dodging Edition

hey guys, so seeing as the results from the 6th popularity poll were leaked today, I figured I would do a separate reaction + analysis post this year, rather than piling it in as an extra on top of the chapter reaction post tomorrow. I figure this makes more sense anyway, since they’re really two completely different things. also this way I can write as much as I want lol.

also, just fyi, I am still completely unspoiled for chapter 293. and probably the smart thing to do to keep it that way would be to log off tumblr and hold off posting this until tomorrow, but I apparently have no impulse control today so oh well. anyway, so I’m hoping you guys will keep this spoiler-free if you don’t mind! as always, I would prefer to just jump right in completely unaware tomorrow like Troy returning to the study room with the pizza boxes lol.

okay so this first part is just going to be my predictions. fyi I am writing this part on Wednesday night, and then I’ll add on the results part on Thursday or Friday (ETA: Thursday, apparently, since I am impatient.)

okay so first of all, just as a refresher, this poll was open to Japanese voters from Aug 3 to Sep 30. meaning chapters 279 through 285. meanwhile last year’s poll took place around the tail end of the MVA arc. so between then and now we had Heroes Rising, the Endeavor Agency arc, and the War arc up to the part where the 1-A kids took on Gigantomachia in Gunga, and started battling Tomura in Jakku. so technically only a couple of arcs, but a LOT of stuff going down in them. oh and season 4 of the anime as well

so! firstly, I predict that my truculent africanized honeybee son will hold on to his crown at #1, coming off a year in which he did some internship-boosted soul searching, borrowed OFA in movie canon, and finished out the voting period as the my-body-moved-on-its-own character development MVP. like CALL ME CRAZY lol, but I’m pretty sure his title is safe. and then after him will be Deku and Shouto as usual

Aizawa should hopefully also have a strong showing because the dude had a banner fucking year. reunited with his old dead friend, took on Tomura with his hopelessly inept hero pals, and then chopped his fucking leg off. he had better be in the top 10. his fucking leg died for this, idk what else he has to do

Endeavor also stands a decent chance of doing well given the internship arc and the final episode of season 4. which I’m sure will go down just swimmingly if that does happen lmao. especially if he somehow manages to rank higher than...

Dabi, which I don’t think he will btw, but you never know. anyways though, but I’m thinking Dabi’s going to have a stronger showing than in past years (in the last poll he only got 367 votes and was ranked 19th). mostly because of his fight in the Gunga mansion, and his cheekily censored name reveal to...

Hawks, who is also going to rank pretty high here, I think. might be he loses some points for killing off Twice, but his back was basically to the wall there. and he has always been very popular, and I think season 4 will also give him a boost, along with his heavy involvement in the first half of the War arc

Tomura was already in 6th place last year and I think he cracks the top 5 this year. he’s gotten exponentially more popular since the MVA arc, and got a boost in the last poll even though his flashback had only just barely happened, and he hadn’t finished Awakening yet and all that stuff. anyway, so he’s only gotten cooler and more tragic since then so I think he makes a big play here

Kirishima, Momo, Tokoyami, and Mina should also hopefully do well, since the poll opened right in the middle of all that Gigantomachia action, and Toko had just got done being an absolute badass and protecting his birb dad. I don’t think he’ll quite make it to the top ten, but he should

and last but not least, I’m hoping that Mirko will come out and take the polls by storm, although I have no clue how popular she is in Japan lol. she’s clearly Horikoshi’s favorite though. she SHOULD be everyone’s favorite, but I mean, we’ll see how it goes

anyway that’s it as far as predictions! and so now, through the magic of writing stuff at different times, we will fast-forward to the part where we actually find out the results!

OH MY GOD YES, STEAMPUNK KHLKSLLKL. HERE FOR IT. JOLLY GOOD SHOW. 5 STARS

Kacchan looks SO COCKY and SO HAPPY and SO ADORABLE, YES I SAID IT. he is adorable as FUCK. I don’t quite know what it is about this particular Kacchan that just screams “LOOK HOW FUCKING CUTE MY STUPID, LOUD SON IS WITH HIS BIZARRE WINDOWPANE-LOOKING CONVERTIBLE SUNGLASS GOGGLES and his POORLY TIED CRAVAT”, but I think it’s because he looks like if a Digimon character and a FMA character had a baby

anyway, so it looks like most of the people present here are more or less who we expected to see. except that I can’t tell for sure if that’s Dabi or Shindou, and if it’s Shindou I’m going to punch somebody in the face so you will have to excuse me

Iida wearing a TRENCHCOAT and a TOP HAT with ENGINE EXHAUST GOGGLE ACCENTS is my new favorite Iida of all time. take note how there is no possible way he can wear those goggles with them sitting on top of his hat like that. plus he’s already got glasses on. these are just purely for aesthetic and IF THAT AIN’T JUST THE STEAMPUNK WAY

Deku out here speaking softly and carrying a lead pipe. Kacchan you best look out. seems like he’s done watching you take first place year after year while he languishes in the number two spot. your only hope is that he trips while attacking you because his boots are unbuckled

Shouto’s standing over there with the rest of the non-first-and-second-place characters, but what are the odds his results are actually within spitting distance of Deku’s same as always. anyway he doesn’t mind, though. also his outfit is by far the most sensible one here, but if you look closely he’s got some sort of fire extinguisher/jet pack thing strapped to his back that’s got a control switch on his belt. Shouto are you jetpacking or putting out fires

Kirishima out here all “I’m not sure what steampunk is so I’m just going to take off my shirt and pose”

AIZAWA WITH THE EYEPATCH SKLKSDLKFJLSKJLDFKJSLDFFJLDKSJFL:KS. SIR. SIR. also, lowkey furious that Horikoshi refuses to show us the automail leg that he is clearly sporting here but which we just can’t see, SHOUTO MOVE GODDAMMIT

Endeavor has TWO fire extinguisher-slash-jetpacks. THE BETTER TO... WHATEVER. look at you here in the top ten again. you really live for that controversy

HAWKS OUT HERE WITH HIS STEAMPUNK BEATS BY DRE AND HIS WEARING A RING ON EVERY FINGER. nice to see you’ve still got your wings there, kiddo. then again Deku still has both of his arms too so who even knows what is going on

BUT SERIOUSLY THOUGH, IS THIS DABI OR SHINDOU. as if I don’t know the truth deep down in my heart. y’all I am gonna flip lmao. it’s not that I dislike Shindou, strictly speaking. but just... I can’t explain what it is, but if you put him and AFO next to each other and told me “you can only punch one”, I would be having a serious crisis. just, THIS FUCKING GUY, idek. STOP SMILING

Tomura looks like he just wandered onto the set here by mistake and has no idea where he is or what is going on. it’s because you’re wearing a bigass severed hand that’s blocking your entire view, Tomura. just take the hand off your face my sweet murder dumpling

anyway! so I managed to also find a link to the full poll results while somehow managing to avoid spoilers, and then I wanted to compare the results to last year’s poll, and so I made... this

hopefully you can all see this. if you’re on desktop you might be screwed, but on mobile you should be able to click and enlarge it. I mean, assuming you actually give a fuck about boring poll analysis spreadsheets lmao

anyway, so there were actually 13k fewer votes cast this year which is a bit of a surprise. is the series not still growing in popularity? do people apparently have better things to do during their quarantine lol

anyways but despite this, and despite getting 8k fewer votes overall, Kacchan still managed almost twice as many as his closest competitor. well fought, Deku. please put down that pipe

I somehow always underestimate the power of ship popularity to influence these things. but for example, it looks like Present Mic got that Vigilantes Trio bump. ride that wave for all it’s worth my man! hell, you got me on board

Iida fucking Tenya somehow got some sort of POWER BOOST out of NOWHERE which I can’t explain at all lmao, but I’m here for it. NOT BAD FOR AN OLD MAN

Sero managed to get the exact same number of votes in both 2019 and 2020. clearly the most loyal fans in the business

Mirko being all the way down at #20 is, of course, a travesty, and I hereby nominate her to be the one to punch Shindou in the face

ngl though, the lack of a single female character in the top ten hurts just a bit. it’s not overly surprising, but still. the worst part of it is that even if you kicked Shindou to the curb and moved everyone else up one slot, it would still be all dudes since Mic beat out Momo by a margin of a little more than a hundred votes. hard to stay mad at Mic for too long, though. ah well

Tomura actually lost a bunch of votes which is a genuine surprise to me. I know the villain standom isn’t as dominant in Japan as it is in Western fandom, but still. you can go ahead and punch Shindou too I guess

Tokoyami lowkey doubled his vote count over the past year while hiding down there at #18. he is slowly becoming more powerful. biding his time

anyway so I think that’s it! I mean not really, but I’m getting kind of tired lol. so just, you know, insert the usual gripes at Overhaul’s ranking here, although we can be happy about Magne making her way onto the list (r.i.p.), and Mineta and AFO taking a very satisfying slide down (all the way out, in AFO’s case; good riddance you bum). Hadou also got a huge boost which is awesome. Mustard’s persistent ownership of the #36 spot will forever remain a mystery to me, but oh well

anyways, this was fun. and I really do feel like everyone is looking away on purpose so that when Deku brains Kacchan with that pipe in about two seconds from now, there will be no witnesses, oh my fucking god

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Night Dream Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Disney Dates Collection: Gavin // Kiro // Lucien

The date begins with MC in another city to attend a Film and Television Culture Summit

She hasn’t had the time to look around the city

A random woman who got along pretty well with MC during the Summit starts advertising for Disney:

Woman: Want to go to the famous amusement park? No matter who you are, you can find your own form of happiness there. 

MC refuses because she finds it too lonesome to go on her own

The woman responds by pointing at Victor who's standing at a corner

Woman: Don’t you have someone with you?

After the meeting has ended, Victor finally has a rare moment of leisure. 

MC: Would Victor really be willing to accompany me? 

I lower my head and mutter softly, not noticing that Victor has already walked over to my side. 

Victor: What are you mumbling about again? 

While I was originally hesitant to ask, I decide to give it a try after meeting his eyes. 

MC: Victor, do you want to...

Victor: Do you want to go to the amusement park? 

MC: Eh? 

Victor: I guessed you would be interested. 

MC: Mm! I’m going, I’m going!

I hurriedly nod, as though afraid he would change his mind. I pull him and we leave the venue. 

Victor: What’s the rush? 

MC: This is such a rare chance, of course we have to grasp it. Also, we don’t know how long we’d get to play since a lot of the incredible attractions would have pretty lengthy queues at this time. Basically - every second counts! Let’s go, let’s go!

~

By the time they reach the amusement park, it’s already sunset

It’s completely empty apart from a few staff members

MC wonders if the park has already closed, but Victor just holds her hand and walks to the entrance

Ticketing staff: Welcome! This is an amusement park handbook specially created for you. We hope you can enjoy today’s dream journey to your heart’s content!

Upon seeing us, the ticketing staff enthusiastically greets us and allows us to enter the park. He also gives me an amusement park handbook.

Before I can make sense of what’s happening, a line of staff members walk towards us with an enthusiastic welcome. 

Before the last staff member leaves, he even helps me put on a delicate necklace with a heart-shaped pendant.

As far as I can tell, the two of us are the only visitors in the entire park.

The attractions, which always have long queues of visitors, are now waiting for us to enter and experience. 

MC: Am I dreaming?!

With a bend of his finger, Victor flicks my forehead gently. 

Victor: Does it hurt?

I cover my forehead and give it a rub.

MC: So it isn’t a dream! But there isn’t a single person here at this time... is there a special activity today? 

Victor: I rented the park.

The way Victor casually mentions this fact leaves me with no idea how to react. I’m frozen to the spot. 

Victor: Didn’t you say that the amusement park is very interesting, and that you wanted to play? Since we’re already here, why not ride your favourite attractions instead of standing dumbfounded? Who was the one who just said that every second counts? 

MC: You’re not wrong to say that... but this is too sudden, and since we don’t have to queue, I really don’t know where to start...

Victor: Dummy. There’s still a lot of time, so you can decide slowly. 

My mind still blank, I open the amusement park handbook to decide on a route. 

The handbook has meticulously marked out a suggested route. There is a strange sentence on the title page --

“The key to entering the dream is in the hand of the dragon. Adventurers who dare to embark on this journey may even find the dragon’s lost treasure.”

MC: Eh? Did you plan this?

Victor leans over to look at the handbook in my hands, then thinks for a moment. 

Victor: No. But the staff confirmed the prize for this small game with me beforehand. 

Hearing this, my interest is piqued.

MC: Does this mean you’re the “dragon” in the handbook? 

Even though the “evil dragon” is Victor, I, as the “Adventurer”, will do my best to see what exactly awaits. 

MC: I won’t be soft-handed. I’ll definitely find that treasure!

Victor: ...

Victor looks at me resignedly, as though he wants to say something. In the end, he actually doesn’t call me “childish”.

Victor: Since I've already brought you here, you can do what you want. 

~

The first place marked on the handbook is the Fountain Square

The hint: “Touch the stars and follow the river of light to take the first step.”

MC decides to walk through the water columns (the ones that spray water from the ground every few seconds) since they reflect light

MC finds a box

When she tries to go back, she realises the water columns have become more difficult to avoid

She almost gets hit by a water column and Victor steps in, taking her wrist and leading her out of the Fountain Square

Victor: Where else have you gotten wet? 

Victor helps me tuck damp hair behind my hair, then signals to me to take off my drenched coat. 

He’s always so prepared and at ease. 

Since this is an amusement park, can I do things that I wouldn't normally do? 

Emboldened for some unknown reason, I shake my head with force. As expected, water droplets splash onto Victor. 

Victor: You...?

MC: This is an amusement park. You’re not allowed to say that I’m childish. You’re also not allowed to say that I'm a dummy after I've been serious with my work and learnt a lot over the past few days. Rest and relaxation are necessities for a human.

Without waiting for Victor to speak, I’ve already spouted a ton of odd logic in a single breath. 

He watches me with knitted brows. After a long time, his expression smoothens slightly.

Victor: Sophistry.

Even though he says this, the corners of his mouth are curled upwards more than usual.

Opening the box, MC finds the next hint: “To ensure your safety, bring a present to meet the dragon.”

While MC is wondering where to get the gift, she spots a smaller hint: “I’m definitely not telling you that the present is in the souvenir shop at the next spot!”

In the souvenir shop, MC is struggling to figure out what she should get

She suddenly recalls the Donald Duck doll she bought a few days ago - she has been bringing it around because his expression looks exactly the same as Victor’s - 

Eyebrows furrowed, but with an incredibly tender gaze and touch. 

MC is about to hand the doll over to him but hesitates.

MC: I predict that you’re going to call me childish again...

I mutter softly, wanting to retract my hand. 

With a gentle laugh, Victor takes the doll from me.

Victor: It suits you more. 

He hooks the doll onto my bag. Even though he didn’t directly accept the gift, the smile on his lips is obvious. 

Perhaps due to the unique magic of the amusement park, everyone is able to immerse in its gentle, lively atmosphere. 

Come to think of it, even though Victor doesn’t look like he suits an amusement park, he has already cooperated with my “childishness” from the start. 

Victor: Look around more carefully?

He points to the merchandise shelf at the side. With this, I realise that next to the dolls, there is a card, as well as a box the shape of a golden apple. 

MC retrieves the card. In the golden apple box, there’s:

MC: Pudding?

Whether it was intentional or unintentional by the staff, this “meeting gift” is the thing that best hooks the sweetness in my heart. 

Victor: If you like it, eat it. It’s fine with me.

Guessing my thoughts, Victor releases an amused breath. 

MC: What about the gift for the dragon? 

He points at the doll from just now.

Victor: This is enough. 

I relax, using the spoon to give it a try.

The pudding is silky and tender, drizzled with just the right amount of sweet caramel. Coupled with the unique golden apple packaging, it is very delicious. 

MC: Even though your pudding is number one in my heart, this one is not bad... it tastes very good! Do you want to try? 

I ask with a smile, taking another scoop.

Victor holds my wrist lightly, leans over, and brings the spoon into his mouth.

Before the sudden heat from my wrist dissipates, the spoon trembles slightly. 

Eyes half-lidded, his eyelashes cast a faint shadow. 

I watch as he opens his mouth slightly, holding onto the spoon.

For some reason, watching his bobbing Adam’s apple makes my face turn red involuntarily.

Even though we aren’t standing very close, the surrounding air turns hot and dry. 

I tear my eyes away and force myself to think about something else. 

MC suddenly has a realisation

If I’m the “Adventurer” who is supposed to challenge the dragon, why has Victor been by my side all this time, even giving me hints from time to time?

Aside from containing a new clue, the small words on the card in my hand seem to be giving me a hint. 

“The mighty black dragon’s most prized possession is perhaps not the golden treasure, but the thing he cherishes the most in life.”

Victor: What’s wrong? Have you thought of something? 

I can only blink, continuing to share the pudding in my hand with him.

MC: Shall we go to the next location? 

Even though I have a rough guess, I decide to wait till I’m more certain before telling him. 

This guess makes me feel as though the temperature has risen by several degrees.

 ~

The final location is the Ferris wheel, which is lit up but not moving

The hint is: “Under the rotation of time is the treasure trove of the immortal black dragon.”

There’s a locked fence separating them from the Ferris wheel, but MC is unable to find the key

MC: I’ve lost this time, Mr Evil Dragon. Looks like I won’t be getting your treasure. 

I pretend to pat Victor “magnanimously”, a sense of disappointment in my heart. 

It’s so rare that we get to come to the amusement park together. I wanted to have a complete experience with him.

Victor laughs softly. 

Victor: Dummy. 

Victor comes closer to me, His forefinger, which has a temperature slightly higher than mine, trails along my collarbone and hooks the necklace the staff member had helped me put on just now. 

He flicks the pendant gently. With a soft click, the pendant opens. 

In it, there’s a small golden key.

MC: This is...

He hands the key to me. 

Victor: To make things equal, I should give this to you. 

The doll he hooked onto my bag earlier swings along with our movements, as though expressing its excitement and blessings in its own way.

The small golden key glistens faintly in my hand.

“The key to entering the dream is in the hand of the dragon.”

So this is what the handbook means. 

With the final obstruction removed by the small golden key, the treasure is closer than ever before. 

The Ferris wheel plays lively music and begins moving. 

Victor: Not bad. 

Victor pulls the door to the Ferris wheel open, and does a gesture of invitation.

The lights that are more beautiful than a dream, the gradually ascending Ferris wheel, and the final treasure box paint a full-stop on today. 

MC: Is this the treasure? 

I look at Victor. He simply lifts his chin, signalling that I should open the box. 

An adorable doll sits obediently inside it. There’s also an invitation card which reads: This is an invitation to Miss MC to enjoy tonight’s firework display, specially customised for you.  

The small font at the bottom leaves me feeling slightly confused.

“The Brave One has not yet appeared. The treasure is once again under the dragon’s wing: The end of the dream is a new beginning.”

MC: “The Brave One has not yet appeared”?

These two short sentences are the answers to the guess I had before. 

If I’m not the Adventurer...

If my appearance has made the treasure return to the dragon’s nest once again...

And since the key has always been with me from the start...

MC: If I’m not overthinking all of this, could the dragon’s treasure be...?

I hold onto the invitation card, unsure if I should ask. 

Victor doesn’t say a word, and seems to be waiting for me. 

MC: Did someone tell you about this game?

Victor: Yes. 

MC: You also know the final prize. 

Victor: You’re right. 

MC: So the “treasure”...

Victor: Is the dummy who walked right into the trap.

In a moment, his breath invades my senses. 

The Ferris wheel gradually makes its ascent, and the firework display is about to begin.

The steady movement of the capsule brings us to the border between reality and fantasy, and we enter a most magnificent dream. 

At the highest point, we don’t welcome the descent.

The Ferris wheel halts where the scenery is the most vast, and is facing the nearby castle. 

Our eyes soak in the night colours of the entire amusement park. 

The fireworks are like shooting stars, blooming around us, dyeing the sky in dazzling colours. 

I hold the doll up, putting it close to Victor’s ear. 

MC: I’ve been found by the two of you! Thank you~ MC wants me to tell you that she hopes you can find eternal happiness!

Victor: That’s all you want to say to me? 

I put the doll down. Although I feel slightly shy, I try my best to look at him seriously. 

The night colours in his eyes are a hundred times deeper and more magnificent. 

MC: Thank you. I’m really very happy today. I hope I never have to wake up from this dream.

He releases a light breath. He shifts the doll away slightly, and hugs me more tightly.

Victor: Didn’t you already confirm earlier that this isn’t a dream?

MC: I want to do something for you, and hope that today is a very happy day for you too.

I give my entire focus to Victor, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

MC: Even if it’s just by a little bit, I want to increase your happiness meter. 

My voice is very soft, and I’m not even sure if he can hear me. 

Victor: I already have everything I want. 

His silhouette looks especially tender under the sparkling lights. 

The midnight bell sounds, but the magic does not disappear. Everything in our surroundings halt. 

We’re the only ones left in the entire world. 

Victor tugs my hand lightly towards him, and plants a kiss on the back of it. 

This light touch is akin to a burning seal. 

I seem to have forgotten how to breathe. 

Victor: You’re really a dummy. 

He laughs, his warm breath brushing my fingers. 

In the next second, the soft touch is on my joints, between my fingers. 

The only thing I can see and think of are his eyes - they are calm, yet contain a faint flow of emotions. 

The black dragon protecting its treasure since the beginning of time, and who has left a mark on my soul, is the most important person to me.

This amusement park, where all fantasies are allowed and fulfilled, weave the most romantic magic to all who visit.

-

Victor’s Post: Looks like a certain person is very satisfied with this trip to the amusement park. 

MC: You were very happy too!

Victor: I don’t deny that.

-

Victor’s Post: Looks like a certain person is very satisfied with this trip to the amusement park.

MC: If there’s a chance next time, we have to come back again!

Victor: There will be many chances - it depends on your performance. 

-

Victor’s Post: Looks like a certain person is very satisfied with this trip to the amusement park.

MC: Satisfied! Very satisfied! What about you?

Victor: Seeing you running here and there was quite interesting.

[tsukkisbean]

B5 Atsumu pleasee, rando facts bout me: i like to eat weird combi foods but rarely got stomachache-😽

Thank youu

beep beep...b5 detected....thunk!

your item has arrived, thank you for using tsukkibean’s vending machine! we hope to see you again in the future!

pairing: atsumu x gn!reader

genre: angst, post timeskip

warnings: only minor post time skip spoiler mentioning his occupation

word count: 1139

prompt: b5.“i’ve waited for this moment my entire life, but-”

a/n: sooo this is definitely longer than a drabble but oh well hehe. although it’s angst hopefully you enjoy it, thank you for participating!!  c: also shoutout to lexi for beta reading this!!!

despite the hustle and bustle around you, the only thing your mind could register was the familiar blonde figure out on the court. you watched as atsumu celebrated with his teammates, each in a unique way. there was bokuto with their secret handshake, hinata with a ridiculous number of high fives, and sakusa with some playful banter. 

once he finished up, he turned his gaze towards the stands. spectators of all sorts began to shout his name, waving their banners in hopes of grabbing his attention, even if only for a split second.

his face broke out into a confident grin, pointer finger aimed towards the stands. it’s always been a habit of atsumu’s since he started playing volleyball as a child. and when he does, the cheers erupt from the spectators, filling the spacious stadium.

“mommy he’s looking right at us!”

“he’s sooo cute, i wonder if he’s seeing anyone”

“who’s he pointing at?”

everyone wonders who could be so lucky as to receive the attention of msby’s starting setter.

you throw your head back, downing your drink in one go. the hard liquor burns your throat, but you don’t mind. your eyes gloss over the room, stopping when they meet those deep brown ones that you love so much. though he’s engaged in conversation with a number of people, atsumu’s eyes never leave yours. after a few moments he gestures towards the door, signalling you to follow him out.

slipping on your coat, you weave your way through the copious amounts of bodies. when you step out you’re greeted by nothing but the dimly lit street. clicking your tongue in annoyance, you pull your jacket around yourself just a little tighter in hopes of protecting yourself from the autumn chill.

“did ya catch the game?” a pair of strong hands reach from behind you, wrapping themselves around your frame. pulling you against his chest, atsumu nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath a welcome contrast to the evening air. 

you turn your face slightly, messy blonde locks now visible in your peripheral, “i try to come to all of your games, ya know that.” 

letting out a disgruntled sigh, he releases you from his grip,“ya mean you used to try to come to all my games.”

when you turn around, you can see the hurt written all over his face. it’s not like you had meant to stop coming to his games. life just had other plans for you. 

“i miss ya, y/n...i haven’t seen you properly in over a year.” his words turn soft, a contrast from moments ago, “i just…”

your face contorts in confusion. the miya atsumu lost for words? never did you think this day would ever come.

“look ‘m gonna get straight to the point” atsumu runs a hand through his already mussed hair, another sigh escaping his lips, “i like ya, y/n. i want- no i need ya in my life.” 

to say you had a crush on atsumu would probably be an understatement.

like many others, you had the utmost respect for him. seeing the way he excelled on the court gave you the drive to do better in your own endeavours. his determination served as a constant reminder to never give up. he never shied away from a challenge, and so you too dove headfirst into any problem thrown your direction. he was unapologetically stubborn, teaching you how to hold your own ground.

the way his eyes disappeared into little crescents whenever he laughed turned your legs to jelly. with a smile so radiant, you’re certain the sun and stars must be jealous. his voice isn’t anything particularly special, but it’s always enough to make your heart stutter. when he held you in his arms? the entire world seemed to fade away and the only thing you could focus on was the steady beat of his heart. because at one point in time, he in fact was your world.

“atsumu…” you shake your head, taking a couple of steps back. before you can get far, he catches your hands, pulling you back in. 

“i like ya, y/n.” this time he says it with more confidence, “we’ve known each other since we were kids and you’ve supported me up until now. bein’ away from you made me realize that.”

his thumb runs along your knuckles, a hopeful glint in your eyes. you watch as that glint fades away when his thumb brushes against your ring finger. 

“atsumu,” you try your best to steady your voice, “i’ve waited my entire life for this moment, but-”

“yer getting married?” his hands leave yours, arms dropping down limp by his side. you stay silent for a moment, only the faint sound of music seeping through the entrance of the bar filling the empty air.

“yer right, i have always supported ya.” you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to hold in the tears threatening to fall, “but i got tired of believin’ i was always goin’ to be just a friend.” 

everything you loved about atsumu was exactly what made you fall out of love with him. too many missed hangouts, phone calls, and ignored texts. his fire on the court naturally translated into your friendship, resulting in many unnecessary and petty fights. his reluctance to ever admit even some fault in your arguments punctured tiny little holes into your heart. in time, the pain become too much to bear and you had to get away. so you ran, you ran as far as you could and that’s when you met them.

this time, you pull him into your embrace, but when he doesn’t move you know it’s time to leave. placing a soft kiss on his cheek, you bid him farewell, “atsumu, i love you, i really do. but not like i used to.”

he watches as your last words create a thin layer of mist. as you walk away from him, he reaches his hand out, grasping nothing but cold air. just as the mist has disappeared into the sky, you disappear from his life.

despite the rush of winning yet another game, the only thing his mind could focus on was finding your familiar figure in the stands. quickly, he went through his post game celebration rituals with each of his teammates. 

once completed, his attention automatically directed itself to a particular section in the crowd. his eyes worked through each row, the sea of people and their banners instantly fading away when he found what he was looking for.

immediately, his face broke out into a confident grin, pointer finger aimed towards the stands. he knew by the crowd’s reaction they all thought he was pointing at them. but just like every game, it was always going to be you.