#not only have i seen such a massive improvement in my writing thanks to the sheer amount of practice i was getting

[newobsessionweekly]

Diamonds and dreams

Tim Bradford x Buckley!reader

Crossover The Rookie x 911

Fandoms: The Rookie, 911

Summary: Tim teams up with your brother, Buck, to plan the proposal. You get hurt in the process, unintentionally, but it's for a good cause.

A/N: Another crossover, and I don't think I'll stop here. I love so much both Tim and Buck. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and I'm open for requests! I'm sorry if I made some mistakes while writing, english is not my first language, but I'm trying to improve. Thank you so much for your support so far. Take care of yourselves, bubs! I appreciate everything single one of you! Lots of love! ❤️

Warnings: Swearing ? Maybe. Bunch of fluff and banter anyways. Not proofread yet

Fluff | A bit of angst

Requested: No

Words: 4.9k

Requests are open for Tim and Buck.

GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

For the past three years, your life took unexpected twists, one after one. You didn't know back then how impactful a police officer doing his job would be to your life. You never expected to fall for the all-so-serious officer, whose indignation spoke volumes in the presence of firefighters.

Tim had only one opinion about the other branch of first responders — reckless, not so sharp, and definitely idiots, but they mean well. That was before meeting you.

After a massive earthquake hit LA, the chaos that followed can't be described. People running around looking for the close ones, screaming, and a lot of pain. LAPD was sent on the streets to maintain order while LAFD rushed to rescue everyone in need. They were hand in hand and, for the first time in his life, Tim was following the orders of a firefighter— you.

He complained at first, but when he understood you were more than a reckless woman, he obeyed. Back then, Tim saw in you a seriousness that made him eat his words. The way you pushed yourself aside for the safety of the civilians, the way you disobeyed the book in a risky situation, questioning everything you knew for the people. You allowed him to help, and he was there by your side the whole time, mesmerised by the way you gave everything you had, pushed away any fear and doubts and crawled into wrecked precincts to save every single one of them.

There was a huge difference between the two branches of first responders. LAPD was trained to save the law, maintain order, protect the vulnerable and punish the guilty, while LAFD was trained to protect and save regarding the guilty and they've seen unimaginable things, making them aware the life is short and you need to cherish it every second.

And when you showed him that ugly side of your job, Tim never saw you the same again. Drawn by your determination and dedication to save every soul and by your love and beauty you carried around, he fell for you, hard.

But he never accepted the real dangers of your job. Actually, he never accepted that your dedication was so profound, that you'd give your life to save another without second thoughts. He couldn't bare the thought of losing you some day due to your 'dedication'.

You’re both standing in the middle of the living room, the air thick with tension that’s been building for weeks. Tonight’s argument was inevitable, ignited by the underlying fear and frustration that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

Tim’s heart pounds in his chest as he looks at you, his concern turning into frustration. He knows that firefighting is dangerous, but seeing you take unnecessary risks feels like a constant weight on his shoulders.

“Damn it, Y/N!” he exclaims, his voice loud and filled with anger. “You can’t keep ignoring orders and putting yourself in danger! You’re a firefighter, not a one-woman hero team!”

You clench your fists, feeling defensive, his words sounding like an accusation. “I know what I’m doing, Tim. Sometimes you have to take risks to save lives.”

“Fire isn’t something predictable,” Tim interjects, his voice firm. “When you're dealing with an armed suspect, you can see the next move in his eyes. But with fire? It's nothing like that and, when it happens, it's probably too late."

His words cut deep, and tears fill your eyes as you try to make him understand. You feel misunderstood, judged, and it hurts.

“Predictable or not, I trust my instincts,” you shoot back, your voice shaking. “Sometimes you have to go with your gut, Tim, not just follow orders blindly.”

"But at what cost?” Tim retorts, his face flushed with frustration. “How many times do we have to argue about this before you realize that you’re not invincible?”

Your eyes fill with tears, the weight of his words hitting you hard. “I’m not saying I’m invincible,” you reply, tears streaming down your face. “I just believe in doing whatever it takes to save lives, even if it means bending the rules sometimes.”

“Bending the rules?” Tim’s voice cracks, hurt evident in his expression. “Y/N, this isn’t a game. Lives are at stake, including yours!”

You’re openly crying now, the tears blurring your vision as you try to make him understand. “I need you to trust me, Tim. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“I need to be able to trust that you’ll come home safely,” Tim says, his voice softer now, filled with genuine concern. “I can’t keep worrying every time you’re on shift, wondering if you’re going to make it home in one piece.”

"But this is who I am, Tim. I can’t change that.”

Tim’s thoughts swirl with a mix of love, fear, and frustration as he watches you, torn between wanting to protect you and knowing he can’t control your choices. “I need some time to think,” he finally says, his voice filled with resignation.

Without another word, you grab your bag and head for the door, leaving Tim standing alone in the living room, his face a mask of regret and worry. As you make your way to Lucy’s apartment, the weight of the argument pressing down on you, you can’t shake the feeling that something has changed between you and Tim, something that might be impossible to repair.

You stand before Lucy’s door, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks streaked with tears. With a shaky breath, you knock softly as your heart is pounding in your chest. The door swings open to reveal Lucy’s shocked face, her eyes widening at your disheveled appearance.

“Y/N? What the hell happened?” Lucy’s voice is filled with concern as she wraps you in a comforting embrace, feeling the tension in your body.

Tamara rushes in, eyes wide with worry. "Are you okay?”

As Lucy's comforting embrace envelops you, a mixture of relief and despair washes over you. You lean into her warmth, grateful for the solace she provides amidst the chaos of your emotions. Tamara's worried expression only adds to the weight of the situation, highlighting the gravity of the rift between you and Tim.

"I’m so sorry,” you stammer, tears threatening anew. “I didn’t know where else to go. I can't go to Buck like this and –"”

Lucy steps back, creating space for you to enter, "You're always welcome here, Y/N. You know that."

Lucy leads you to the couch and wraps her arm around your shoulders as you found a small measure of comfort in her presence. The unspoken understanding between you eases some of the ache in your heart, reminding you that you're not alone in this struggle.

Tamara places a comforting hand on your knee, her eyes filled with empathy as Lucy spoke, “Come on, tell us what happened."

You take a shaky breath, trying to steady your voice as you recount the intense argument with Tim. “We had a fight, a really bad one. He said he needed some time to think.”

Your love for Tim is boundless, a deep-rooted connection that fills your heart with warmth and joy. Every moment spent with him is a treasure, each shared smile and whispered promise a testament to the depth of your affection. And being so far from him, it was a nightmare. Leaving so abruptly, both of your anger and frustration bottled inside, this tore you apart.

Tamara’s eyes narrow, her tone incredulous. “Tim said that? What could possibly have happened?”

“He thinks I’m reckless, that I put myself and my team in danger,” you explain, the sting of his words still fresh in your mind.

The pain of your fight weighs heavily on your soul, a sharp ache that refuses to fade. His words cut deep, leaving you reeling with a sense of loss and betrayal. The thought of losing him, of facing a future without his love, is almost unbearable.

Lucy shakes her head, her eyes filled with empathy. “Tim’s always been by-the-book. He values rules and order. But being a firefighter isn’t always black and white.”

You nod, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “Exactly. But he just won't listen.”

Lucy sighs, her eyes softening with understanding. “Tim loves you. He’s just scared. Scared of losing you.” She can see the pain in your eyes, the uncertainty about the future of your relationship.

“I know,” you sniffle, trying to hold back the tears. “But it’s not just about him being scared. It’s about understanding who I am and what I do.”

Tamara nods, her expression thoughtful. “Sometimes love isn’t enough, Y/N. Sometimes two people can love each other deeply but still be incompatible in some ways.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” you say, feeling the weight of her words. “But I also don’t want to lose myself.” You grapple with the conflicting emotions, torn between love and self-respect.

Lucy chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. She stands up, heading to the kitchen to prepare some tea. “You won't lose him. He’s stubborn as hell, but he loves you. You know that."

Tamara smirks, leaning back on the couch. “Well, men are from Mars, right? We’ll never fully understand them.”

Lucy laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender. “True that. But hey, if anyone can knock some sense into Tim, it’s you, Y/N.”

Tamara smirks, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she leans back on the couch. “You know, Y/N, I like you more and more. Just so you know, everything you’ve said tonight will be used against Tim tomorrow.” She winks playfully, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Lucy’s going to make his shift a living hell.”

Lucy chuckles, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Oh, you bet I will. He won’t know what hit him.” She laughs, the tension in the room further dissipating with their playful banter.

You can’t help but laugh along with them, grateful for the light-hearted moment amidst the emotional chaos. “Just promise me you’ll go easy on him. He’s still my guy, after all.”

Yet, even in the midst of your despair, your love for him remains steadfast. It is a beacon of hope in the darkness, a guiding light that keeps you tethered to him, even when the distance between you feels insurmountable.

Tamara raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. “No promises,” Lucy says with a playful shrug.

You shake your head, chuckling at their antics. “Alright, alright. Just remember, I’ll have to deal with him after you two are done.”

After a moment of silence, Tamara's face brightens, an idea forming. “You know what we need? A girls’ night. We could all use a little distraction, right?”

Lucy grins, nodding in agreement. “Absolutely. Some wine, some movies, and some girl talk. It’s just what the doctor ordered.”

You smile weakly, grateful for their support. “That sounds nice.”

Meanwhile, across town, Tim and Buck find themselves in the comfort of Tim's living room. With beers in hand and the soft glow of the TV providing background noise, both men seem to have left the weight of the day behind them, engrossed in their own world of laughter and banter.

But Tim's thoughts are consumed by the image of you, tears staining your cheeks as you walked out the door. Each memory of your tearful departure cuts him deeply, a sharp pang of guilt and sorrow gnawing at his heart.

Buck takes a swig of his beer, glancing over at him with a curious expression. “So, how did the fight go?”

Tim sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I think I overstepped a little. She was crying and she left. It broke me to see her like that and let her go."

Seeing you hurt because of him breaks him in ways he never imagined. He would give anything to erase the hurt he's caused, to mend the fractures in your relationship. But he knows that sometimes love requires sacrifice, even if it means bearing the weight of your pain.

Buck nods understandingly, setting his beer down on the coffee table. "It's all part of the plan, Tim. We knew it would be tough, but it's for the best." He tries to reassure Tim, understanding the struggle his friend is going through.

Tim looks at Buck, gratitude in his eyes. "I know, I know. It's just hard, you know? Seeing her hurt and knowing I'm the cause of it, even if it's for a good reason."

Buck places a comforting hand on Tim's shoulder. "At least this will buy us some time. Where's she now?"

Tim smiles slightly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "At Lucy's. She texted me when Y/N got there. She'll be crashing on Lucy's couch."

Buck chuckles, picking up his beer again. "Good, at least she's safe. Lucy will take care of her. She always does."

Tim nods, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, Lucy's been great. I'm glad she's there for Y/N."

The two men sit in companionable silence for a moment, the weight of their secret plan hanging in the air between them. It's a plan born out of love and a desire to create the perfect proposal for you, but it comes with its own set of challenges and emotions.

Buck's voice is filled with excitement. "You know, once all of this is over, and you've proposed, it's going to be amazing. Y/N is going to be over the moon."

Tim smiles, the vision of his future with you filling his mind. "I know, Buck. I can't wait to make her my wife."

Amidst the pain, there's a profound love that anchors him, a love so deep it eclipses the darkness of your current strife. You're more than just his partner; you're his rock, his solace, his reason for waking up each day with a smile. Your laughter brightens his darkest moments, your touch soothes his weary soul, and your presence fills his life with a sense of purpose and joy he never thought possible.

The two men raise their beers in a toast, their smiles reflecting the hope and love that fills their hearts.

Tim glances over at Lucy, his voice filled with concern. "How's Y/N holding up? I haven't heard from her since that night."

He can't shake the self-loathing that grips him, the regret for letting things escalate to this point.

Lucy raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. "A bit pissed at you, but she's safe."

"I hate myself for that. I really don't like this whole...situation. Especially letting her go and forcing her to sleep on your couch."

He never wanted to hurt you, never intended for things to unravel like this. And the idea of you sleeping on Lucy's couch, away from him, fills him with a sense of emptiness he can't bear.

She chuckles softly, her tone teasing. "You could've called, you know. Women like that kind of thing."

Tim lets out a sigh, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I figured as much. I just thought... well, some space might be good."

Lucy's teasing only adds to his discomfort, her playful jabs hitting a little too close to home. He knows he should have done a lot of things, but fear and uncertainty held him back, clouding his judgment with doubt.

Lucy raises an eyebrow, “Space, huh? Sounds like a classic Bradford move. But you might want to pick up the phone. Y/N deserves to know you’re not pushing her away.”

Tim chuckles, shaking his head. "Trust me, I plan to. I just needed some time to... you know, plan everything out, to get it right."

Lucy grins, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "But you better make this worth it, you hear me?" She nudges him playfully. "And soon. She might love you and might be willing to wait for you, but don't test her patience."

Tim smiles, gratitude evident in his gaze. "I will, Lucy. And thanks, for everything."

Lucy waves him off with a chuckle. "Don't mention it. Just remember to thank me after she says yes." She winks at him, her smile warm and supportive.

You've been camping on the girls' couch for the past three days. It wasn't all that bad; some time off work was just what you needed, and your fight with Tim allowed you to sort through some old stuff.

When you were about to drift off to sleep again, Lucy burst into the living room. "Alright, couch potato, time to get up!”

You groaned, pulling a pillow over your face. “Five more minutes, Lucy.”

With a chuckle, Lucy yanked the pillow away and extended her hand. “Come on, Y/N. It’s time to get some fresh air. You can’t stay on my couch forever.”

Reluctantly, you accepted Lucy’s help to sit up. “What happened to ‘you’re always welcome here’? My free stay at Hotel Lucy is over?”

Lucy laughed. “Exactly. It’s check-out time, Missy.”

You smirked, slipping on your sneakers. "Well, send the bill to Bradford; he's the only one at fault for this."

With her keys in hand, Lucy grinned. “How about a ride along? A little patrol action might be good for you.”

Raising an eyebrow teasingly, you countered, “Trying to get rid of me, Lucy?”

She chuckled. “Just trying to help you get some fresh air. And maybe a little distraction.”

As you reluctantly rose from the comfort of Lucy's couch, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you. The past few days had been a rollercoaster of hurt, confusion, and a desperate longing to mend things with Tim. But amidst the chaos, there was a glimmer of hope – hope that today could mark the beginning of reconciliation, of healing the wounds that had torn you apart.

“Alright, alright. But only because I’m craving some fresh, questionable coffee from the station.”

“Deal. But you’re buying the donuts!” Lucy teased.

“Deal. But only if they have sprinkles.”

Suddenly, Lucy stopped and appraised you, shaking her head. “Oh no, no. You can’t possibly leave the house like that. Off to the shower with you, you’re starting to smell like my couch.”

Stepping into the shower, the warm water washing away the remnants of doubt and insecurity as you made a silent vow to yourself. Today would be the beginning of a new chapter for you both, a chance to rebuild what had been broken and to forge a stronger, more resilient bond.

You returned to find some of your clothes laid out on the couch, courtesy of Lucy and Tamara. Raising an eyebrow, you turned to Lucy. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit extra?”

It wasn't exactly what you'd wear for patrolling, but considering Tim probably handed them to Lucy, you couldn't really complain.

Just then, Tamara emerged from her bedroom with a smirk. “You should be thankful I didn’t pick the outfit.”

You chuckled, wondering why she wasn’t at school. “Fair enough. Shouldn’t you be at school by now?”

Tamara waved it off, pulling out her makeup kit. “I’ll miss the first period to do your makeup. You owe me.”

Sighing, you looked between Lucy and Tamara. “Come on, girls. It’s just a day of patrolling. Nothing special.”

Lucy shook her head, her eyes serious. “No, hun. Today you’ll be right next to Tim. Breathing in his neck. You need to show him what he’s missing.”

The engine's soft hum reverberates through the car as Tim navigates the streets, the tension inside as thick as the fog rolling in from the bay. Lucy rides shotgun, her mischievous glances back at you adding to the palpable unease. Seated in the back, you stare out the window, attempting to distract yourself with the passing scenery, anything to escape the suffocating silence.

Lucy's voice cuts through the tension like a knife, her cheeriness a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere. "Hey, Bradford," she chirps. "How about we make a quick stop for some coffee and donuts? My treat."

Tim's eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, briefly meeting yours before he nods. "Sure, sounds good."

Pulling into a local coffee shop's parking lot, Lucy practically leaps out of the car, leaving you and Tim alone for a fleeting moment.

"You could've called," you murmur softly, finally breaking the suffocating silence. "Three days, Tim."

Tim's grip tightens on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I know, Y/N. I'm sorry. It's... it's complicated."

Before you can delve deeper, Lucy returns with a tray laden with coffee and a box of donuts. She hands you a cup before settling into her seat, her eyes glinting with an inscrutable knowingness.

As Tim lifts his coffee to his lips, you notice the slight tremble in his hand. "Everything okay, Tim?" Lucy inquires, her innocence a thin veil over her ulterior motives.

Tim clears his throat, averting his gaze. "Yeah, just a bit tired, I guess."

Lucy's smirk is unmistakable as she reaches for a donut. "Well, these should help with that."

Taking a sip of your coffee, you feel its warmth spreading through you, but it does little to dispel the tension in the air. However, there's a shift—a subtle change in the atmosphere. The silence is no longer suffocating; instead, it's pregnant with anticipation, each breath heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, Tim speaks, his voice laced with vulnerability. "Y/N, about the fight... I never meant to hurt you. I just needed some time to sort things out."

You meet his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes tugging at something deep within you. There's a weight to his words, a heaviness that speaks volumes about the distress he's been wrestling with.

As the shop continues its journey, the tension remains, but it's tempered now by a sense of curiosity and cautious hope. Unbeknownst to you, Tim's anxiety isn't solely about your relationship, and Lucy's scheming grin betrays her satisfaction with how her plan is unfolding.

Throughout the day, Tim's behavior had been perplexing, he carefully avoided any calls that hinted at danger. It felt as though he was intentionally shielding you from harm, a protective barrier wrapped around you even as you yearned for the adrenaline rush of the job.

But the tranquility of the day shattered with Nolan's urgent call for backup. The gravity of the situation hit you like a sledgehammer, sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Dispatch, this is Officer Nolan, requesting backup at my location. Officers under fire, need immediate assistance,” Nolan’s voice is clear and urgent.

Without hesitation, Tim accepts the call, urgency in his voice for the first time that day. “Roger that, Nolan. We’re en route.”

Tim accelerates towards the scene, the Griffith Observatory coming into view. The iconic building stands majestically atop the hill, its silhouette against the clear blue sky adding a surreal beauty to the unfolding situation.

As you arrived on the scene, the deafening sound of gunfire filled the air, drowning out any semblance of normalcy. Lucy and Tim sprang into action, their movements swift and purposeful as they navigated the chaos.

"Stay in the car, Y/N!" Tim's command pierced through the chaos, his tone leaving no room for debate.

But as you sat there, the abrupt silence that followed sent a chill down your spine. Lucy's panicked cry for Tim shattered the stillness, sending your heart into overdrive, “Bradford!”

Ignoring Tim's orders, you bolted from the shop, desperation fuelling your every step. The scene before you was a tableau of chaos and confusion, the beauty of the Observatory juxtaposed against the violence that unfolded within its walls.

You searched frantically for any sign of Tim or Lucy, all you found was Tim's abandoned radio, a silent witness to the turmoil that had unfolded.

The setting sun cast long shadows, casting an eerie glow over the scene, a reminder of the fragility of life in the face of danger. And the tension is electric, like the calm before a storm. Tim’s voice crackles through the radio, cutting through the silence.

“Y/N Buckley, can you hear me?"

Tim's heart races with anticipation as he waits for your response. He's nervous, hoping that you'll hear him clearly. He wonders if you'll be able to sense the nerves in his voice, hoping that you'll understand the significance of what he's about to do.

Grinning, you grab the radio. “Loud and clear, Bradford” you replied, your voice steady but your pulse quickening with each passing second.

A pause stretches out, thick with anticipation. “Close your eyes, Buckley. And this time, try not to defy a direct order.”

Rolling your eyes but intrigued, you humor him and shut your eyes, taking a deep breath of the crisp air, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. You focused on the sound of Tim's voice, letting it wash over you like a warm embrace as he began to speak.

"You and I, Y/N, we’re a wild ride,” Tim starts, his voice unexpectedly tender. “Who would’ve thought our journey would lead us here, to this crazy, beautiful moment?”

As Tim's voice crackled through the radio, a surge of nervous energy swept through him. He had rehearsed his words a thousand times in his mind, but now that the moment was upon him, he couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt.

The weight of the ring in his hand served as a reminder of the gravity of the situation, filling him with both excitement and trepidation.

A soft touch grazes your hand, sending a thrill up your spine. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“You challenge me, drive me nuts, and somehow make me a better man,” he continues through the radio, a hint of a smile in his voice. “And damn it, I love you for it.”

You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. As you listen, you feel tears prickling at the corners of your closed eyes. Tim's words resonate with you, stirring something within yourself that you can't quite put into words.

You want to open your eyes, to see the man you love more clearly, but you also want to savor this moment a little while longer.With each word, you feel your heart swell with love for Tim. His vulnerability, his honesty, it all takes your breath away, leaving you utterly captivated.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart," Tim's voice breaks through your reverie, pulling you back to the present moment.

With a flutter of excitement, you obey, slowly parting your eyelids to reveal the sight before you. There is Tim, his eyes filled with love and longing as he slowly kneels down before your eyes, a small velvet box in his hand. The sight of him, vulnerable and trembling, fills you with a sense of awe and gratitude as the setting sun casts a golden halo around him, the cityscape stretching out behind him in a breathtaking panorama.

Tears of joy well in your eyes as you take in the sight of the ring in his hand, your heart overflowing with love for the man who means the world to you.

“Y/N Buckley,” Tim’s voice wavers just a bit, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, you are stunned into silence, your mind reeling with the weight of his question. You feel a surge of emotion welling up inside, threatening to spill over at any moment. This is it, the moment you've been dreaming of, the moment you've been waiting for since you laid eyes on Tim, few years back.

Tim chuckles, a nervous but endearing laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

"Yes, Tim. A thousand times, yes!" your voice choked with tears, as your words ring out into the night, a declaration of love and commitment that echoes through the air.

With a trembling hand, Tim slips the ring onto your finger, sealing their promise with a simple yet profound gesture. As your eyes meet once more, you share a moment of perfect understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the love that binds you together.

Without another word, you're in each other's arms, holding onto each other tightly as if trying to make up for all the time you've lost. In that moment, nothing else matters but the overwhelming love you share, a love that has weathered every storm and emerged stronger than ever before.

Tim's lips meet yours in a tender kiss, a sweet yet passionate embrace that speaks volumes more than words ever could. You cling to each other, lost in the intensity of your emotions, your hearts beating as one in the darkness.

As you pull away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you share a smile that lights up the night. In each other's arms, you find solace and strength, knowing that no matter what the future holds, you'll face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart.

Nolan chimes in through the radio, his voice filled with laughter. "Bradford, are we breaking out the champagne or what?"

Tim's smile widens at Nolan's words, and he glances over at you with a playful twinkle in his eye. "Hold off on the champagne, Nolan," he replies, unable to suppress a laugh. "She said yes."

Murmuring softly, Tim leaned in close to your ear. "I guess I didn’t mess this one up, huh?"

You chuckled softly, leaning into his embrace. "Not this time, Bradford."

[maitanii]

ABOUT YOU | INUI SEISHU

an: i don’t know how to write fanfics of x reader, it’s not really my thing. but i had fun writing this. so enjoy <3 i listened a lot to the 1975 while i was writing this and i didn’t know what to put as a title. this is just me loving inui seishu.

cw: bonten timeline (this takes place in 2013) | Implicit sexual content | toxic relationship (not the main one) | alcohol consumption (both reader and Inui drink a beer)

wc: 6k

THURSDAY. SEPTEMBER 5TH. 2013. 

"I'm looking for a job."

"Thanks, but no."

"I’ve seen the sign you have at the entrance and the job offer on LinkedIn."

"No."

The young man's eyes never leave the car magazine he's leafing through disinterestedly throughout the entire conversation. A pen is gracefully held behind his ear, and a grease stain adorns his pale cheek.

"Can I at least talk to your boss?" You put your hands on your hips. The man lets out a deep sigh before forcefully closing the magazine's pages. He raises his gaze to meet your eyes and forces the most insincere smile he can muster. In his green pupils, there's nothing but annoyance.

"Of course."

With heavy movements, he takes two steps with his long legs and elegantly opens the flip phone on the counter. After a few moments of awkward silence, another phone rings in the room. You search for the object producing the sound. When the phone's beep stops, a toilet flushes. The small wooden door behind the counter swings wide open, revealing a massive figure zipping up his pants.

"Seishu, damn it, you don't even let me go to the bathroom," The blonde man laughs, sarcastic, before returning to his serious expression. "Sorry, boss." He shrugs, raising his thumb and pointing at your figure, standing in front of him. "This girl here says she's looking for a job."

You look the sturdy man up and down who stands before you. You swallow hard as you examine the tattoos that decorate the side of his head.

Draken raises an eyebrow, looking at Inui, who leans on his arms at the counter, amusedly watching the scene. The tall young man with the tattooed skull returns the girl's gaze before extending his hand.

"I'm Ryuguji Ken," shaking his hand back, you pronounce your own name. "So you're here for the job offer... Do you know anything about motorcycles?"

"Not exactly. My father was a big enthusiast. But I learn quickly and make good coffee."

Inui continues to look at you with a poker face. Did you really come to apply for a job at a motorcycle shop without knowing anything about the subject? What's next, studying international relations and trying to build a bridge?

"Oh, I see," Draken says, touching his chin with two fingers, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. "You're young, pretty, and you seem nice. You might attract some customers and be of help to us. You're hired. You start tomorrow."

"What?"

"Yes!" Your exclamation only emphasizes the vein that protrudes on the blonde man's pale forehead.

Inui looks at Draken in disbelief.

"How is she supposed to help in the workshop if she knows nothing about motorcycles, Draken?"

"I put up the sign at the entrance because I needed someone at the counter, not to have another mechanic," Seishu tightens his lips and closes his eyelids. "Besides, if she needs help, you're always here in case something comes up, Inupi. It'll do you good to have some company to improve your social skills."

The tension in the room thickens as Inui grudgingly accepts Draken's decision, though he remains skeptical about the new addition to their team. With a deep sigh, he shifts his attention back to the tools in his toolbox, muttering something under his breath.

On the other hand, you do your best to conceal your excitement and nerves. You are determined to prove your worth, despite your limited knowledge of motorcycles. In truth, you don't care much about the specifics of the job; it's all about paying the bills for your apartment. Even though your mom insists on helping, it's too much for her. Several cafes rejected your job applications due to your refusal to accept exploitation or wear specific uniforms. That's why having a job just 20 minutes away from your house, with a consistent schedule and no split work shifts, feels like a great opportunity.

You are more than ready to embrace this new chapter in your life at D&D MOTORS, at least for the next few months until you earn your degree and sort out some other aspects of your life.

The one who isn't willing to embrace the concept of working with someone else is Inui Seishu. As you stand there, happily texting your mom about the new job, you can't shake the feeling that there's more to him than meets the eye.

THURSDAY. SEPTEMBER 23TH. 2013. 

Inui Seishu is the typical man who hates Twilight. You haven't asked him, but you know it. It's not like you have the opportunity to exchange more than two words with him. Every time you try to ask him something, you get a 'uh-huh' or a 'look it up on the computer' as a response. The only moments when you have more chances to talk to him are when you make a mistake in naming a part of the order or point something out. Then, Inui's sermons, as cold and abrupt as he is, echo off the walls of the shop. Later, Draken arrives to tell you it's not a big deal and gives you a pat on the back.

Even though you have only been here for two weeks, you have already gotten used to the penetrating smell of burnt oil and gasoline at D&D MOTORS. Your mother isn't exactly thrilled about you working in such an environment, especially with the rise of gangs in Tokyo, but she can't complain much if that job helps you pay the rent. Every day you look at the calendar, hoping to get to the final exams of your degree and say goodbye to Tokyo to return to your hometown.

“My co-workers are not dangerous, Mom, I promise. I have to go in. Love you,” you close your phone and open the heavy glass doors of the shop.

Draken is looking at the day's schedule, and Inui is starting to set up his toolbox next to the radio he uses to play some music during work time. The doorbell rings when you enter, catching Draken's and Inui's attention.

“Good morning. You are a bit late today. Everything okay on the way here?” Draken comments as he continues to write things in the notebook. A few days ago, you mentioned that you don't live in a good area of the city, but it's what you can afford. Inui, at his boss's words, lifts his gaze and finally greets you with a nod. His expression remains as serious as ever.

“Hello,” you reply with a smile, trying to appear as relaxed as possible. “Yes, my mother called, and I couldn’t hang up sooner. Sorry,” you make a slight bow. Draken laughs lightly.

“No worries, woman. I arrived a couple of minutes ago. Inui is always the first to arrive.”

“I just like to get up early,” the blonde says without much emotion.

Draken approaches you, leaving the counter.

“Today, we have a couple of customers waiting for us to take a look at their bikes. You know how it works. Inui inspects, and you write down what he tells you, understood? I have to handle several orders, so I'll be at the counter for today.”

“Understood,” you nod as you hang your coat on the rack. You are determined to show that you can be a valuable worker. Draken pats your shoulder before turning to Inui.

“Inui, you know the drill. Today, you're in charge of the initial inspection. I trust you'll do a good job with Eiichiro. He really likes your way of working.'” Inui nods without saying a word.

Both of them go to their respective tasks, and you prepare to assist your colleague in the inspection.

The discomfort in the air is palpable. You can't quite understand what part of your personality Inui finds displeasing. But you are at work to work, not to make friends, so you have to swallow your colleague's attitude without complaint. After all, the pay is generous, you don't have split shifts, and Ryuguji (or Draken, as he has asked you to call him on the third day) is a great guy.

When the first customer arrives, you watch carefully the meticulousness and attention to detail with which Inui works. It's evident that he has outstanding technical skills. You begin to take notes of his observations, trying to learn as much as possible.

You can't help but be acutely aware of the silence that envelops the workshop. The client goes away to run some errands while the revision is being done, and Draken is nowhere to be seen. Inui's work seems almost unnaturally quiet except for the occasional sound of 'hum' or 'pass me the screwdriver,' amplifying the awkwardness of the situation." . Every move appears as if it's part of a silent ballet. He almost looks bored, if it weren't for the light reflecting in his eyes. Eyes that look at you from time to time discreetly, as if waiting for you to make a mistake. You almost feel like a child waiting to be grounded. The absence of chatter or the usual workshop sounds adds to the discomfort, making you feel like an intruder in this world of expertise.

With a notepad in hand, you begin to take notes of your observations, the sound of the pen scratching against the paper echoing in the quiet space. You have already familiarized yourself with the brake locations and even sketched a few diagrams detailing the engine parts. But in the hushed environment, you can't shake the feeling of unease, like an outsider trying to blend into a world where silence reigns, and every movement holds a weighty significance.

Whenever you think you have identified a possible issue, your eyes meet Inui's unwavering gaze. Although he doesn't speak a word, his discreet look seems to silently pass judgment on you. After a few minutes of inspection, you cautiously venture to ask a question. "Could it be an issue with the engine's synchronization?" you ask. Inui nods slightly, but his expression remains unflinching. Soon, he redirects his attention back to the motorcycle.

You decide to delve deeper into your theory. "Perhaps it’s a blocked exhaust valve," you mention, tilting your head, hoping for a response or a sign of confirmation. Once again, Inui nods with a minimal gesture, without saying a word. He stands up while removing his gloves and shakes them against his pants. You close your eyes as you watch him smear grease on the fabric. That stain won't come off easily, not even completely.

As if he was a mind reader, Inui speaks for the first time in ten minutes. "I don't come to the workshop to stay clean. The dirtier my uniform is, the harder I've worked in a day," he says. You nod at his words, although you don't entirely agree with his statement.

"Oh, of course, it makes sense,". It doesn't make much sense, but who are you to contradict someone who seems to have no thoughts behind their gaze?

Back when you still lived with your mother and came home after a night out, you tried to make as little noise as possible to avoid disturbing her. In those moments, you felt the same way, measuring your words and avoiding causing any disruption. The lack of conversation and the absence of the usual workshop sounds only make the situation more uncomfortable.

Tearing the page where you’ve been taking notes from the notebook, you leave it on the seat of the inspected motorcycle, and then follow Inui through the workshop. Appearing submissive is something you hate; but working with someone who makes you feel like a burden with every step is even worse.

“Hey, Inui”

“Uh-uhm.”

“Am I bothering you?”

“Right now? Not much.” Inui grabs a denim jacket from the rack and drapes it over his shoulders. Draken looks at him from the counter, raising an eyebrow. ” I need to step out for a moment.” You watch how he touches the pocket of his jacket, probably making sure he has the pack of cigarettes he always carries around “I  won't be out long. If Eiichiro comes back, you take care of it.” Nodding towards you, Inui proceeds to leave the premises. It has started drizzling not long ago. 

You follow his figure with your gaze, observing how his hair sways gracefully with each step his military boots take.

“This guy... “ Draken's voice breaks the silence with a comment that is more for himself than for you.

“He's peculiar. “ you add.

“He's really damn weird.” Both of you laugh at his comment “But he's a very good person and a great friend. He didn't have an easy adolescence when it comes to making friends.” As he pronounces the last word, he gestures with his hands as if making quotation marks. “Give him time, you'll get along well.”

The conversation with Draken continued for a few more minutes. The rain began to intensify. Eiichiro should have arrived a while ago, and Inui hadn't arrived either.

"Inupi didn't have an umbrella, did he?" Draken asks. You shake your head. "Here, take one for him. He's probably in the alley on the other street, having a smoke, and he can't come out in this downpour. I'd go, but I'm waiting for a call. If Eiichiro comes, I'll let him know to wait for a moment."

Taking the umbrella that Draken hands you and another for yourself from the umbrella stand, you nod and start walking to the location. It must be a frequent spot for him to know where he is with such assurance.

As you approach the alley, you hear hushed whispers beneath the sound of falling raindrops. Suddenly, laughter fills the air. You clutch the umbrella you're holding tightly and press the other one close to your chest.

"Inui, I brought you an—"

The words you were about to speak are left unspoken. The scene unfolding before your eyes is hard to comprehend. Seishu's back is visible in the darkness of the alley, but the hands gripping his scalp and exploring his back under his jacket are unmistakable.

When you were taking a step back to return the way you came, both figures become aware of the sound and turn around. Seishu raises his eyebrows, and your gaze instinctively goes to his swollen lips. In an instant, you cast a glance at his companion. You couldn't see his features clearly, but slanted eyes and white hair greet you in the darkness.

"...umbrella. Return carefully."

Dropping the umbrella to the ground, you run back to the workshop. Embarrassment starts to course through your body, and your cheeks begin to burn. Suddenly, laughter begins to bubble up, and when you arrive at the workshop, you close the door and bend over your stomach, laughing.

Draken is just finishing his call when he sees you walk in the door. Hearing your laughter, a smile spreads across his face. The redness doesn't leave your cheeks, just like the feeling of embarrassment that penetrates your mind.

"He..." You still haven't caught your breath enough to articulate a word properly. "He was..." Opening your mouth to laugh again, you raise your hands to start clapping your fingers together, mimicking two people kissing.

Your boss laughs again.

"Oh, so you've met Kokonoi."

Approaching the counter to pick up your water bottle and take a sip, you heard the door beginning to open.

"Now," your coworker's voice made you jump, "now you're really bothering me."

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 9TH. 2013.

Inui Seishu's lip balm has the scent of vanilla although his mouth carries the taste of tobacco. Kokonoi loves the former, but he detests the latter. However, whenever he sees Seishu, he doesn't waste much time before capturing his lips, entwining his fingers in his long blonde hair. He is the one who gives him that lip balm; the same one that Akane carries in her school case whenever they go to the library. This brings him closer to understanding what it would be like to kiss her.

But he's sure that Inui Akane wouldn’t have hands as big and calloused. Nor such a broad back. Nor the prominent Adam's apple in his throat. That's why closing his eyes and kissing Seishu is the simplest way to live out his fantasies

"I have a business trip tomorrow. I'm going to Hong Kong for a couple of weeks."

Oh, that's great," Inui replies, his attention still on his phone. The screen congratulates him for completing another Candy Crush level when he presses the lock button. "Are you going with the Haitani brothers?"

"No." Kokonoi's coat costs more than the entire D&D MOTORS shop and the rent of all the buildings in his neighborhood. Seishu watches closely as Hajime adjusts the collar of his shirt, covering any possible marks decorating the smooth skin of his neck. Any mark that brings him thoughts of Seishu; any mark that reminds him that it doesn't belong to Akane." "I'm going alone. I'll leave you money for the taxi and for another shampoo."

"Shampoo?"

"Yes." Turning towards him, Kokonoi approaches his body lying on the bed and grabs a strand of hair. 

"I don't like the scent of the one you use. It's too strong."

"Ah." Seishu moves his hand aside to sit up on the bed. He takes his white T-shirt from the end of the bed and starts to get dressed. "Lately, my hair has been falling out quite a bit. Draken told me this one would help, but it's true the scent doesn't suit me much."

"Certainly not." Checking the time once again, Hajime gives a final look to the hotel room before approaching the door. "Goodbye Inupi, take care."

The sound of the closing door echoes within the four walls. A sigh escapes Seishu's lips. The king-size bed, covered with high-quality Egyptian cotton sheets, is too big for one person. Surrounded by fluffy pillows, he sat on the mattress and watched the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. He could take the opportunity to watch "House of Cars" and entertain himself. He had asked for the day off from Draken, so he wasn't in a hurry to go back anywhere. Although, in his day-to-day life, he never really rushed for anything. He didn't even have to go back anywhere.

He decided to lie back down and rested his forearm against his forehead. The distant sounds of the city served as a lullaby; Koko always chose hotels away from the crowd. He had time to stay in the room until six, and it was only four. He considered taking a nap but opted to check his mobile phone again. He had an unread message from Draken.

"Look at what you're missing out on," he smiled upon seeing the photo that accompanied the text. It's a blurry picture of a plate of Takoyaki and some fingers with silver rings peering in the lower corner of the photograph. You don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to know that the low-quality jewelry belonged to you. Tomorrow you would come complaining that your fingers were turning green. He would take the opportunity to call you Hulk, and you would get angry and say, "are you implying that I'm a monster?"

Seishu laughs before locking his phone and closing his eyes, sinking deeper into the tranquil cocoon of the luxurious hotel room. Outside, the city's lights began to twinkle as evening settled in. 

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 4 TH, 2013.

There are good days and bad days. Today was one of the latter kind. 

The guy you had been seeing had been leaving your messages on read for three days. It's not like you had grown too attached, but he provided some company outside of friendship. On the other hand, you had continuous arguments with his family for the most absurd reasons. Your roommate thought it was a good idea to finish your cereal box without asking and to constantly bring her boyfriend into the common areas of the house. To top it off, you got your period before leaving home. You felt like a matchstick being dragged across the box, destined to turn into white phosphorus at some point.

When your umbrella wouldn't close at the entrance of D & D MOTORS, and you arrived fifteen minutes late (with wet hair and socks) for your shift, the last thing you wanted to deal with was your coworker's comments.

Draken had to go on a business trip to pick up some parts in Osaka and was going to take the opportunity to see some old friends. Considering the time he spent at work, you were sure he could use some time away. However, this also meant more time with Seishu. And that didn't excite you much. He had been quite irritating lately. You had heard Draken talking about a fight with his boyfriend (or whatever their relationship was). You didn't care much about people's sex lives, except when it directly affected you. Whatever was going on with Inui, he was taking it out on you at work. So the best thing that could happen to him today was to keep quiet until the clock struck six, without sermons, sharp comments, or unnecessary sarcasm.

“Christmas is approaching, have you thought about asking Santa for a watch?”

“What?” The vein on your forehead starts to throb.

“I’m asking you if you've thought about being on time for once. Draken should start deducting hours from your contract.” 

When his words meet silence, Inui places the wrench he was holding on the floor. He turns his body to face yours. His green eyes inspect you from head to toe with an indifferent look. Instinctively, you cover your stomach with your hands. Has he noticed that you look more bloated today? Without saying a word, he turns his head and goes back to his business.

“Are you going to start working now?” he asks.

You don't know if it's the stress, the piercing pain in your lower back, or the bad weather. But the tears in your eyes start to burn more and more.

“What have I done to make you treat me like crap?” The words flow from your throat before your brain can process them.”If you want, I can talk to Draken and ask him to switch my shift. But I don't deserve to be treated like this.”

“Like what? Look, I don't understand what's wrong with you today.”

“It's not today, Inui, it's every day” Tears began to roll down your cheeks. Damn it, you didn't want to cry today. At least not in front of anyone. “I don't expect us to be friends, but lately, it seems like you hate me, and I don't want that either.”

Seishu looks puzzled as you bring your hands to your eyes and try to wipe away the tears before they fall from your cheeks. How badly had he behaved? He wasn't the most careful person when speaking; his parents always nudged him when he was opening Christmas presents to make him put on a better face. Words kept coming out of your mouth, but Inui had stopped listening to you a few minutes ago, thinking about the interactions of the past week and measuring the words of what he was going to say next.

“I don't hate you. Not at all. I had a fight with someone important to me, and it affected my behavior. I'm sorry.” Bowing slightly, Inui prays that this will be enough to stop your tears.

“...and you're always so obsessed with me being a few minutes late; are you that obsessed with the time?” Your eyes remain hidden behind your hands, which continue to wipe away the salty drops endlessly pouring from your eyes.

He clicks his tongue and straightens up at the same time. With all the gentleness that his calloused hands allow, he delicately grabs your forearms to separate them from your body.

“Hey, did you hear me?” Moving away abruptly, you bring your arms to your chest protectively ”I don't hate you, okay?” He continues speaking. “To be honest, I'm just like that. I thought you knew” You raise an eyebrow at his words, sniffing the mucus generated by your tears with your nose.

“Did you think I found you that unpleasant?”

“No, I didn't mean that” He laughs lightly, putting a hand in one of his pants pockets, and handing you a tissue. His laughter is a very pleasant sound. “I'm not the most expressive person, I guess. I don't know, I'm a bit reserved. I don't usually express things the way I should. But I don't hate you, not at all. I haven't stopped to think about how I made you feel with my words, to be honest.”

Your reddened eyes meet his. For the first time, you notice that there is no boredom in his gaze. Just genuine concern. Despite your anger and frustration, something in the way he looks at you makes you lower your guard a bit.

“Well, that's a start, I guess” You murmur, feeling the tension slowly subside and bringing the tissue you had taken from Inupi to your nose. Inui nods as if he agrees with you. He seems uncomfortable, but he's willing to try to resolve the situation.

“I'll pay more attention to how I act, I promise.” You smile at his words.

“I've never heard you laugh” The poker face disappears from his face. The slightest blush decorates his cheeks. “I like your laugh, Inui.”

“Of course you like my laugh, you sound like a newborn piglet when you’re laughing” A mischievous smile appears on his face.

“Take that back!” Grabbing a cloth from the seat of a motorcycle, you start whipping his shoulder. Laughter begins to resonate in the shop as his Adams apple moves with every sound.  “Good thing you have a boyfriend, because you're terrible with women.”

Taking the piece of fabric from your hands, Inui Seishu stands in front of you with an eyebrow raised. For the first time, you are aware of how tall he is. Despite his soft features, he has a very masculine jaw. Your eyes instantly shift to your hands, where you hold the other end of the cloth tightly.

“I don't think I'm bad with women in any sense. You can ask one of my ex-girlfriends if you want tho.”

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 13 TH. 2013

The rainy days are the least crowded in the store. Only half an hour left before closing time, and it didn't look like any customers were going to walk in through the door. In the fridge, there were a couple of beers that Draken had bought for the Friday night shifts.

"You're going to laugh at me." The glass of the Asahi bottle was freezing the tips of your fingers. Inui had taken the last Kirin.

“Oh, believe me, I don't need to know your favorite movie to laugh at you. You give me plenty of reasons already.”

“I know, but I know you, and you're going to annoy me day and night.” 

“It's Twilight, isn't it?” Silence fills the room before a deep laugh erupts from his chest. The sound quickens the pace of your heartbeat. It’s too pleasant, too familiar. If death were to knock on your door at that moment and offer you the chance to hear something for the last time, you would choose to hear Inui's laughter.

“Yes” You answer without thinking, with a smile on your face and a blush spreading across your cheeks. Your favourite movie isn’t Twilight, you don’t even like vampires. It was probably a 2000s sitcom or some Adam Sandler comedy. But you were still enchanted by the mischievous smile Inui fixed on you.

“Kokonoi has always hated Twilight” When he spoke those words, Seishu fixed his gaze ahead. He never talks about him. And you don’t really want to know.  You observe how  a sad smile makes its way in Inui’s face. 

“And you don't?” You ask, giving him a light nudge in the torso.

“I love it” In response, your body turned automatically, your mouth opening in surprise.

“NO WAY” Now it’s your turn to laugh. Inui's eyes fixated on the dimple that occasionally appears on the right side of your face. He likes it (the dimple and your laugh).

“Draken and I went to watch Breaking Dawn Part Two at the cinema last year. Some girls invited us for a drink after the movie. It was fun.”

“Oh well, you use it as a flirting technique” You roll your eyes. A strange knot forms in your stomach as you speak those words “That doesn't count.”

“Pf, I don't need to say I like Twilight to flirt. Just covering this up with a bit of concealer is enough” His fingers pointed to the red mark that covered a quarter of his face.

Your eyebrows furrow at his words, and a wave of questions and emotions fill your mind. Why would someone as attractive as Inui feel the need to hide a birthmark?

“Why would you do that? You have a beautiful face.”

A lopsided smile appears on Inui's lips before he took a sip from his beer bottle. You can be as blunt as him when you want. (He also likes that)

“You're very kind. Try telling me that when we're not drinking” he says while flicking your forehead with his free hand.

“Inupi, are you laughing at me?” Grabbing his cheeks between your hands, you gently squeeze his face between the sleeves of your sweater. “You have an enviable face. You don't have to be ashamed of a birthmark.”

“It's not a birthmark” Setting the beer aside, the young man grabs your wrist and rolls up the sleeve of your sweater on your forearm to let your fingers touch his forehead.

Feeling the wrinkled skin under your fingers, you shiver. It indeed wasn’t a birthmark; it was a scar. So Inui decides it’s time to tell you everything. The fire, Akane, Kokonoi, Shinichiro, his adolescence. Throughout the monologue, your hand continues to caress his head, alternating between his forehead and some strands of his hair. (He appreciates that). His voice didn't waver at any point. It almost sounded like a rehearsed speech, bordering on robotic.

Evoking pity is disgusting. Just remembering how his family's friends acted after the fire makes him angry. The looks they gave when they discovered the mark beneath the bandage, the whispers when they left his sister's room, the loneliness of his parents. Everyone went to say goodbye to Akane, but no one stayed with the Inui family. Except Koko.

"And at what point in your story do heels come into play?" Your voice disrupts his thoughts. He notices your hand is no longer on his head. Sitting on the floor, imitating his posture, your pinky timidly caresses the back of his hand. A shy smile decorating your face, inviting him to speak more. "When did you start liking heels?"

He was never a cheerful child, but he was a child who loved to laugh. Akane always tried by all means to erase the poker face from his expression, and most of the time, she succeeded.

At some point during his speech, his pinky ends up entwined with yours.

MONDAY DECEMBER 23RD 2013

The day Inui Seishu cuts ties with Kokonoi Hajime, the workshop is swamped with tasks. Christmas is in two days and people want to be able to travel with their bikes. Draken never stops answering calls, and you attend to customers, jotting down the problems they describe and directing them on where to park their motorcycles for Inui to inspect later.

It's not traumatic, and no tears are shed. It's expected by both parties. They haven't slept together for weeks. Inui is always straightforward with his words, and that day is no exception. Koko chuckles and affectionately caresses his cheek. His white hair is tied in a braid, and a diamond adorns his right ear.

"One less Christmas gift to buy, huh?" A mischievous smile spreads across his face."Take care, Inupi. You always know where to find me."

A light drizzle falls over Tokyo. Upon entering, Inui fixes his gaze on the scene unfolding before him. The last customer has just left the shop when you place a Christmas hat on Draken's head. He's smiling as he bends down slightly. Seishu closes his umbrella and approaches the counter. Your eyes meet his, and your hand extends a piece of red fabric, shaking it slightly.

"I'm not going to wear a Santa Claus hat."

"I know you're not going to wear it yourself," you say, circling the counter and getting closer to him. "I'm going to put it on you."

"I don't have another choice, do I?" he asks, but your arms are already outstretched, and the synthetic fabric is caressing his still damp hair. Seishu's impassive face doesn't reveal any emotion, but a slight glint in his eyes indicates that he's not as annoyed as he's trying to show. When you finish placing the hat, you lightly pat his cheek.

"Look at yourself!"

"I'm not going to."

But even with the worst expression on his face and speaking with as little energy as possible, the smile struggling to break through gives him away. As you step away for a moment to go to the bathroom, Draken winks at him. Inui's middle fingers don't take long to show his boss his shiny black-painted nails.

"Nice color."

"Screw you."

"Thanks, buddy."

Seishu approaches the motorcycle he has to finish fixing. A liquid leak can be repaired in 45 minutes if he hurries.

"Inui."

"Hmm?"

"Teach me how to ride a motorcycle."

The blonde pauses in his work. You? On a motorcycle? You, who trip over your own shadow and seem always about to cry when it gets cold and you forget your jacket? (he always ends up lending you his) Well, no, he's not going to fix the bike’s problem in 45 minutes.

"Don't you think it's a bit dangerous to learn to ride a motorcycle in this weather?"

You sit down next to him on the floor and decide to watch as he resumes his work on the motorcycle.

"I can live with the risk it poses."

"All right, then. But I won't do it. Ask Draken," he says, rolling his eyes at your words. You huff. Not even a Christmas hat can motivate him.

"Draken is going to Osaka tomorrow to spend Christmas Eve with his friends."

"I know, he invited me to go with him."

"And? Are you going?"

"No, my parents want to have dinner with me" Inui lets out a sigh.

"Oh, well, that's fine," you reply. "So I guess we'll see each other on Wednesday. Don't think I'm going to stop insisting tho" you add.

Seishu smiles inwardly. He doesn't expect you to stop. (He doesn’t want you to.)

As you stand up to start tidying up the workshop, Draken says his goodbyes to both of you. He still has some packing to do, and he has to leave early in the morning, wishing you both a Merry Christmas.

"Why the sudden fixation on learning to ride a motorcycle?"

"I want to impress someone."

In all your interactions during the few months you've known each other, Inui has been the one to speak plainly. You always try to express things differently, frustrating everyone who dislikes indirectness (Him).

Seishu begins to remove his gloves. A small wrinkle forms on his forehead as he furrows his brows. Your shoes suddenly become the most interesting object in the room. So much so that you can't, and don't want to, take your eyes off them.

"Do you think you can impress someone by taking them on a motorcycle ride that could potentially end in the hospital?" Inui is the first to break the silence. His hands finish cleaning the motorcycle he has just repaired.

"He's used to my clumsiness. I don't think he'll be too impressed." The heat begins to rise in your cheeks as you speak each word.

Inui arches an eyebrow, intrigued by your words. But still, he doesn't say anything immediately. Instead, he stands up and places the gloves on the freshly repaired motorcycle. His eyes carefully examine your shoes for a moment, trying to see what's so interesting that you can't look at him.

"What if you tell him how you feel instead of trying to impress him with daring maneuvers?"

A mix of surprise and nervousness is reflected in your gaze. You know Inui always gets straight to the point, but speaking openly about your feelings is a bit more unfamiliar territory. However, you have resolved to take a step forward.

"That sounds too easy for the person I'm trying to win over. Don't you think a good dose of bravery on a motorcycle might be more effective?"

Inui smiles slightly, as if enjoying the wordplay.

"Oh, c’mon." Placing a hand on your head, he affectionately ruffles your hair. "What could be braver for you than being honest with yourself and others?" Fortunately, your brain can't throb like your heart is doing at that moment because, knowing Inui, he would drag you to the hospital in a heartbeat. "But, okay, if you think impressing him on a motorcycle is the best way to have a chance with him, then go ahead. I'll try to help you."

Your lips curve into a grateful smile.

"You're great, Inui, tha—"

"However, I have a condition. Actually, two." Placing a hand on your chin, he holds your head still to look into your eyes once and for all. Your shoes will have to stop being interesting for a few minutes. "The lesson will take place as soon as we finish the shift." As you open your mouth to reply, his finger moves to rest on your lips to prevent you from speaking. "And when we finish the lesson, invite me to watch 'Twilight' tonight and ask me out on a proper date. I'm not a fan of indirects."

"And what if I already have plans tonight?" you comment, gently withdrawing the hand that prevents you from speaking. Seishu smiles without taking his eyes off yours. His eyes reflect, for the first time in a long time, happiness. Your fingers interlace with his and his thumb caress your hand instantly.

"Then," leaning in close to your ear, you feel his breath on your ear. You love the smell of his shampoo "now you have better ones."

[thepsychewrites]

The Complexities of a Black Hole — Pt. One

A Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Series

Summary: We learn the story of how you first met Bucky, and the whirlwind of emotions that followed. An evening of training and a cozy night spent with you and Bucky watching the Princess Bride made for the best day. Little did you know that only hours later something would happen to Bucky that would change your lives forever.

Warnings: This series and my entire blog is 18+ ONLY. MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. Frequent use of heavy and descriptive language. Mostly angst and fluff. Mentions of blood/slight and very brief gore, TWS, self deprecating thoughts, allusions to depression? If I missed anything please let me know!!

Word Count: 5.2K

A/N: The first part of TCoaBH. I wanna give a big thank you to my mutuals that helped me and supported me through this series so far with ideas and beta reading ( and a big thank you to @fandoms-writings for beta reading this chapter!! I love you so much Remi 😚) & etc!! I love you all so much. This series is my child and I’m very excited to share it with you all. Any reblogs, comments, and feedback is highly appreciated <3 Enjoy.

Main Masterlist

At the center of nearly every large galaxy in the known universe lies a black hole.

When a star reaches the end of its life cycle, it can have a dramatic exit, compressing its matter into the smallest form it can take and eventually collapsing. In some instances, when this star runs out of fuel and says its final goodbyes, it bursts into a bright supernova, leaving behind a new entity in its place – a black hole.

Bucky Barnes was a black hole. At least – that’s what he would compare himself to. Even on a good day, Bucky couldn’t help but to see himself as a gigantic pit of despair and darkness, sucking the life from any room he enters and being a massive inconvenience to everyone in close proximity.

Similar to a black hole, light never escaped Bucky. If you were to ask anyone who spent longer than an hour around him how often he smiled, the unanimous answer would sound something along the lines of, “Oh, well – I don’t actually think I’ve ever seen him smile.” Unless, of course, you were Steve Rogers. But even Steve would tell you that a grin from Bucky came few and far between, and felt a lot less genuine than before.

Similar to a black hole, Bucky Barnes was programmed to destroy. At least, that’s what he was told time and time again. And it’s what he has come to believe, no matter how many times he was reassured that he isn’t at fault for his own sins – Bucky would carry that belief to the grave.

Black holes are only dangerous if you get too close. The same can be said for Bucky Barnes.

Despite these deeply held beliefs, he had been doing better in the last few years.

Returning to a more normal life after being captured, tortured, and used by a terrorist organization for over seventy years was nothing short of difficult. Bucky had to relearn every aspect of life. How he needed to dress, how to tend to his basic needs like showering more than once a week and eating three meals a day, how to talk to other people in a friendly manner, how to ask for things when he needed help, how to use current technology – it was a tedious process. Most days he felt lost, like he had woken up on a foreign exoplanet where the technology was wildly advanced and nobody could understand a word he said. Actually – that’s exactly what it seemed like. On this planet, he was the alien. He was the oddity, the rare specimen that nobody could comprehend. It was isolating and rather miserable most of the time.

He woke up every day grateful for how far he’s come, but fearing the worst when he thought about his future. Steve compared him to an injured bird once – that despite his clipped wings, he’ll learn to fly again. Bucky scoffed at that – saying the only bird in the building was Sam. He was making improvements, slowly but surely, and everyone noticed.

However, there was one thing Bucky would always be cautious of, especially now in his newfound life.

Change.

It was inevitable, that much he was sure of. It threw him for a loop, made his mind stir with nagging thoughts all through the day and night. Even the little things would drive him crazy, like when Tony had all of the washers and dryers replaced and now they made a different chiming sound when the cycles were done. Something as simple as that nearly sent Bucky into a full blown panic attack. But it wasn’t just the little things like unfamiliar sounds – it was the people he had met along the way. The new faces and names he had to learn – living and working and experiencing life with them, getting to know them inside and out. What motivated them, what made them tick, what sent them spiraling – Bucky learned as much as he could.

The biggest change Bucky had experienced in the last year was you.

You came crashing into his life – quite literally – seven months ago. One afternoon Bucky was walking the halls of the Compound, trying to make his way outside so he could run on the track and “enjoy the fresh air for once” as Steve had said in a poor attempt to convince him, when, after turning a corner a little too quickly, you collided right into him. Apologies fled your mouth, backing away with wide eyes and looking as mortified as the time when Bucky walked in on Sam getting out of the shower, no towel in sight. The decorations you had shoved between your arms for your bedroom ended up scattered along the floor from the impact, little knickknacks rolling around the both of you. Feeling heavily embarrassed, Bucky crouched down, picking up the trinkets and offering to bring them to your room.

It was a memorable introduction to say the least. It still made him laugh when he thought back on it.

Bucky had always found it difficult to make friends. Even growing up, the only person he ever allowed himself to really get close to was Steve. Then you came along and flipped Bucky’s world upside down and inside out. There was something about you that enraptured Bucky, something indescribable that made him feel okay around you. Like the sky opened up and he could breathe again. It was an unseeable gravitational force that kept him within arms length at all times, which made it easy to get to know one another. Sure – there was a continuous hesitation from Bucky at the start, but he overcame that feeling rather fast.

“Tony didn’t tell you? She worked with Nasa for a while as a research scientist. She’s smarter than both of us combined, Buck.” Steve had informed Bucky a week after you moved in. Bucky was confused as to why he hadn’t seen much of you during mission briefings, questioning Steve on the matter. “Fury doesn’t want her in the field… something along the lines of ‘Would you send Albert Einstein into the Invasion of Normandy?’ Apparently she’s in the labs most of the day, helping Stark and Banner with the fun stuff.”

Bucky remembers the first time he saw you in the labs, with a large pair of safety glasses on as you handled some intense vials of chemicals, your tongue peeking from the side of your mouth as you focused, not even hearing him enter the room. He remembers tucking his leather-clad fist into the pocket of his trousers, the widening pit in his stomach dissolving at the sight of the insanely cute smile you flashed at him when you finally noticed his presence, muttering an apology as you hurried to put the liquids away to speak to him.

Nobody had ever smiled at Bucky like that before when he entered a room. He was used to grimaces, horribly hidden eye-rolls, or heavy sighs from others.

But you changed the game.

Eventually, he came to see you as a good friend. A close friend. Maybe even… a best friend?

Bucky wasn’t sure what having a best friend was supposed to feel like. He knew Steve was his best friend, and nobody could really replace him, but he and Steve had known each other their whole lives. They had earned the title of best friends when they were still in grade school, so it was natural for them to be close to one another, to care for one another. Steve could even be categorized as a brother at this point. But Bucky hadn’t made a best friend since.

Is this what it felt like?

He sighed into the open air, his hands twisting around a damp, sweat-ridden towel as he watched you saunter around the sparring ring with Sam. Despite the fact that you hardly ever went out on missions with them, you still enjoyed the physical training they offered to you when you joined. Bucky’s thoughts were getting the best of him again, distracting him when he was supposed to be focused, especially right now while they were getting some sparring in. He wiped the towel over his dripping forehead one last time before tossing it on the bench and standing up, fixing his hair in a low bun and making his way back over to the ring.

Bucky leaned against a corner post, his eyes following you intently as you circled Sam, fists balled up to block your chest, chin high with unwavering confidence.

At least, it was unwavering until you noticed Bucky’s stare on you. “Hey Buck, back for seconds?” You teased, your smirky grin only lasting a moment before your mouth fully opened in a gasp, your leg being pulled forward by Sam's causing you to lose your balance and land with a thump on the padded floor. A groan slipped from you, your hand going back to cradle your head. “God, Sammy, thanks for the concussion.”

A soft snicker came from Bucky, fortunately not loud enough for you or Sam to hear.

Sam simply shrugged his shoulders, offering a hand to help you up, his other sitting disappointingly on his hip. “Mhmm. You would’ve been able to counter that if you were paying any attention.”

Begrudgingly, you took it, pulling off the floor and regaining your balance. Once on your feet, you looked at Bucky and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, whatever. This is why I leave the crime fighting to you guys.” You mumbled, poorly concealing the smile creeping to your face as your hands moved to straighten your disheveled clothes.

God that smile.

Bucky would do just about anything to keep a permanent smile pulling at your pretty lips. It was like every evil thing that has ever plagued the Earth just disappeared when you beamed like that. Like nothing bad could ever happen again. And the way it made your eyes narrow and your nose scrunch up had Bucky’s cheeks turning pink, his head ducking down before you or Sam could notice. By the time his heart fell back into a normal pace, Sam was out of the ring and gathering his things while you chugged down some water.

“Hey, don’t forget,” Sam called to Bucky, his gym bag thrown over his shoulder as he faced the exit, “we still have that briefing tonight at nine for the trip to D.C tomorrow, so be there or be square. I think we all remember the scolding Steve gave you last time for poking around and being late. Again.” He said before promptly leaving the room, the glass door softly shutting behind him.

“Yeah Buck, you heard the man. Can’t be late again or Steve’s gonna get on your ass.” You said from the other side of the ring, your back against the rubber ropes.

Bucky scoffed, knowing it was you and your stupid new bedazzling gun that made him late last time. It took Bucky a solid four hours to pry the tiny fake jewels off of his holster, and of course it was right before a meeting with Fury. “You’re annoying.” He said with utmost sincerity.

Once again, Bucky was graced with a pull of your lips. “I know.” You said equally sincere.

There was a lingering gaze you left upon Bucky, a soft tingle traveling up the length of his spine.

He watched as your hands met at your front, wringing together in a shy manner. “So – you don't have to be at the briefing until nine… right?”

Bucky hummed.

“Wanna get a start on the Princess Bride, then? It’s next on our list.”

Oh, the list. A list you had curated specifically to get Bucky caught up on the wondrous twenty first century and all of the literature and films he had missed out on. The list was practically a mile long, filled with some of your favorites along with other suggestions from your teammates. Lately you had been raving about a book and film called The Princess Bride, a title that made Bucky assume it was just another fairytale story. But he would never be one to deny you, especially when you looked up at him with an excited sparkle in your eyes. Usually if a film accompanied a novel, you’d read the book first and then watch the movie adaptation, but without a copy of The Princess Bride on hand, the film alone would have to do.

Bucky allowed his lips to form a gentle grin, his heart beating wildly yet again. “Of course, let me shower first and we’ll start it.”

Thirty minutes later, after the both of you had scrubbed the sweat away from your bodies and freshened up, Bucky had found you in your bedroom with the lights off and an array of snacks laid across the foot of the bed. You were already laying down, clad in a navy long sleeved cotton tee and a tight pair of black shorts that left your silky smooth legs on display, a t.v remote in your hands, and your thumb pressing some buttons before the movie was pulled up. Upon seeing Bucky’s large frame leaning against the doorway you ushered him in, patting the empty spot of the mattress next to you.

Your eyes scanned his body as he moved to sit down, his plain black t-shirt hugging the muscles across his chest, his metal arm free of restriction. This is the Bucky you loved to see. He grew to be comfortable around you, especially in the quietness of your room where nobody else was looking in. Nobody else was watching him or expecting anything from him. It was just the two of you, exactly the way you both liked it.

Bucky huffed as he shifted his body to match your relaxed position, his hands clasping at his stomach. Though he was positive he couldn’t match your internal calmness, not when he could smell the coconut shampoo you had used in the shower, or the vanilla conditioner you often paired with it. The scent alone made his body tense up, his lungs filling to the brim with every breath he took.

“Now you have to pay attention to this one, Buck. It’s one of my favorites.” You teased quietly so as not to startle him in the current silence that surrounded you.

“I'll pay attention, don't worry.” He quipped back with a smirk, knocking his sweatpant covered knee into yours.

With another shared smile you finally pressed play, the opening scene flooding your room with bright colors. You leaned down to grab some of the snacks you prepared, a large bowl of popcorn, a bag of pretzels, and a few boxes of candy.

Bucky was slightly caught off guard, his brows furrowed as he turned to look at you. “I thought this was about a princess, who’s this little kid?” He asked, confused as to why a sickly boy was on the screen. “And who is that? His grandpa or something?”

“Just keep watching Buck, you’ll get it soon.” You giggled, knowing he'd have plenty of other questions and concerns as the movie played on.

As the old man sat down and opened the book he would read to his grandson, Bucky seemed to connect the dots a little better. He stayed quiet for only a minute longer before he had more commentary to spew.

Bucky wasn't expecting the film to be as lovey dovey as it was, especially in the first few minutes alone.“As you wish? This Westley guy sounds a bit whipped for that Buttercup, don't you think?” Bucky mumbled in between bites of popcorn, the bowl now resting in his lap.

You hummed in slight agreement. “I dunno, I think it's kinda sweet.”

Kinda sweet? Hmm, maybe Bucky should be taking notes on this, then. The way in which Westley looked at Buttercup oddly reminded him of how he often looked at you, with nothing but sincerity and reverence in his eyes. But the narrator said Westley was in love with Buttercup, and surely what Bucky felt for you didn’t mean he was in love.

Right?

As the movie continued, a story of princesses, sword fights, bad guys, adventure and love was unfurling before his eyes, Bucky tried his hardest to stay focused. He found his attention being swept elsewhere when you suddenly shifted closer to him, your head resting gently on the edge of his shoulder. He could feel each warm breath you exhaled against his skin, his nerve endings sparking. When you curled even closer into his side you had no idea you had just started a wildfire within the man. The heat of a thousand suns burned inside of Bucky from something as simple as your body next to his. It was voluntary, your desire to close the physical gap between the two of you. It didn’t gross you out, it didn’t make you flinch or cower. He nearly had the idea to pull you in further by wrapping his arm over your shoulder, but would that be too far? The second he said fuck it and began moving his arm, you spoke, stopping him in his tracks.

“Shit, is it nearly nine already?” You suddenly called, your eyes pointed up to the clock on the wall. “You should probably head to the meeting room before Cap comes and busts my door down.” With a quick press to the pause button the movie had stopped, the wildfire dying out as you pushed to sit upright.

His brows furrowed. “You’re not coming with?”

You hummed, a look of contemplation spreading across your features. “Do you want me to come with?” You asked sweetly, your fingers wrapping over the plastic remote as you laid it on your night stand.

All Bucky gave was a nod, but that was enough for you.

Bucky was silent as he walked next to you, too many thoughts invading his head to think about a single one clearly, let alone engage in small talk while he was at it. He was spacing out, the only thing keeping him tethered to the present was your blurry figure walking ahead of him to the elevators. He didn’t register getting in the elevator, nor stepping out and moving towards the meeting room, and not even sitting down beside you at the long conference table. Bucky eventually tuned back in when your knee began knocking against his. 

“Earth to Buck. You with us, bud?” You whispered next to his ear, his eyes focusing in on your concerned face, your look mirrored by Steve’s and Sam’s across from him. 

With a shake of his head he chuckled, playing off whatever happened. “Yeah, sorry – what were you saying?” Bucky turned to meet Steve’s eyes, the fog barely clearing. 

Steve was used to that foreign look on Bucky’s face, so he knew to tread lightly and keep the teasing at bay. “I said that I was glad you could make it on time, that’s all. Anyway, now that we’re here, let’s get started, shall we?” Steve said with the authoritative Captain voice he always used during meetings. He stood, shuffling to a wide screen and began detailing tomorrow's plans. Bucky was counting on you to be paying close attention, because he could hardly hear Steve, the muddled words drowned out behind the beats of his frantic heart. He was saying something about an abandoned building Fury had mentioned, a possible threat.

Like the world would run out of those any time soon.

Bucky slowly fell out of his spaced-out state, suddenly noticing the gentle circular patterns being drawn against his silver arm. The tips of your nails pressed against the chipped plates of his prosthetic, the motions barely registering from how soft and lazily you scrapped them across.

A thought crossed his mind just then, a memory seared into his brain of the first time you touched him.

“He doesn’t like hugs.” Steve had mumbled in your ear, pulling away from your embrace only to lean down uncomfortably in his gear and tactile suit. You were mostly hidden behind Steve’s large, towering frame, peeking out from around his bicep to study the panting man behind him.

The two had just returned to the Compound from a grueling mission, one that left a few civilians in critical care from the cruel acts of another narcissistic, egotistical evil-doer. They both came back utterly defeated and in low spirits, Bucky’s glazed-over eyes casting downward and refusing to meet yours as you stood before him.

Steve eventually walked away, his slight limp horribly masked by his ‘if I’m still breathing, I’m fine’ attitude, leaving you and Bucky alone in the eerily silent living room. You could hear the low, quick draws of breath invade his nose, the slump of his shoulders falling deeper and deeper by the second. The guy looked like he was going to fall over from exhaustion.

By this point, you and Bucky had shared a handful of conversations, a few of them lingering far past his normal social encounters. He was beginning to feel less guarded around you, noticing how isolated rays of the sun began to penetrate his long-standing concrete fortress he built for protection. So, when you stepped closer to his cowering body, he didn’t feel the sudden urge to back away. He didn’t feel the need to run and hide.

And when your arms opened for him, ever so carefully wrapping around his wide torso, your hands clasping at the bottom of his back – he had no urge other than to stay. He let you hold him for minutes, the two of you never leaving your spot, your feet planted solidly to the ground using your strength to hold the both of you steady.

He didn’t tell you at the time, but being so delicately shielded in your arms was the first time he felt safe that whole day. That whole week. That whole month.

No, who was he kidding? It’s the first time he felt that safe all fucking year.

Now, he longed for a touch he didn’t deserve. He yearned for the safety you provided, whether it was your body against his or your fingers grazing down his horrid, scar-ridden arm. It slowed the taunting words that raced through his head. It steadied his wretched heart. It was more generosity than he could ever hope to ask for.

“…So as I said, it should be an easy in and out. Fury deemed it fully abandoned, and from what I saw of it, I’d have to agree. The jet is leaving from hangar three at six sharp, so don’t be late. Especially you, Buck.”

The call of his name caused his eyes to shoot up, meeting the stern face of his captain. “Yeah, six sharp, got it.” Bucky confirmed with a slight nod. His mind was still wandering with the comforting drag of your fingers, wondering how long you’d hang onto him.

Eight minutes. That’s how long. Bucky counted each ticking second.

You eventually pulled away from him when the two of you stood in front of your bedroom door, Bucky walking back with you in a somber silence. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of another mission without you, even with Steve’s promise of returning the same day. Bucky didn’t want you to worry, and he knew that worrying was what you did best.

“Just be careful, alright? I know you always are but… still. No stupid decisions.” Your touch didn’t leave for good, your chest meeting his as your arms found their favorite spot against his waist. The top of your head was so close to his mouth, he had no other choice but to plant a short kiss to it, a lingering promise of his return mumbled quickly after.

Bucky kept his eyes on you as you disappeared into your room for the night, standing outside your door until he heard you climb into bed. It seemed as though, whether he was aware of it or not, Bucky might have been just as whipped for you as Westley was for Buttercup. Overstaying his welcome, he waited until the soothing sounds of your soft snoring floated to his ears, finally allowing his legs to carry him to his own bed.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Maybe you had every right in the world to worry.

Maybe Bucky wasn’t as strong as he thought he was.

Maybe he wasn’t fit for this job anymore.

Maybe he just screwed up the life he had begun building for himself.

Maybe what everyone else told him was true.

Maybe Bucky Barnes was nothing but a monster.

Frantic voices filled the air of the Compound, deafening orders being yelled into the room, your teammates running around with wide eyes.

Standing by the jet, motionless and panicked, you felt close to vomiting everywhere. What they said couldn’t be true, right? It couldn’t be. You refused to believe it. You refused to believe Bucky did what they reported back. The Bucky you knew couldn't have. He had gotten better, he was doing so good… making incredible progress. Surely it wasn’t that easy for him to re-enter that old headspace.

Right?

The Earth stopped spinning the moment you saw him. It seemed like the man you talked to barely ten hours ago had left, replaced with a stranger you could hardly recognize.

Bucky was unconscious, his body restrained and bloodied as he was dragged along the floor with Steve on one side and Sam on the other to carry him upright. His entire tactile suit was lathered in crimson, the color consuming him entirely. Steve was seething, his face sweaty and flushed, the veins in his neck and along his forehead protruding in anger as he barked at everyone to move out of the way. Sam was no better, his frazzled state only partially concealed by the stony expression he wore. You were frozen solid, unable to process the scene unfolding in front of your face.

As the men came closer you realized that Sam wasn’t holding onto Bucky’s left arm, but instead his shaking hands gripped at the edge of his dripping red kevlar vest. Forcing your eyes to his side, you immediately understood why.

Bucky’s left arm was gone. The silver prosthetic looked as if it had been viciously ripped off, mere remnants of what it once was left in its place, frayed wires and bent gears protruding from the damaged shoulder. A horrified gasp left you. Just yesterday you were holding onto that same arm, and in the blink of an eye it was just… gone? No – no… surely you had fallen into some ultra-realistic nightmare. This couldn’t really be happening. It couldn’t possibly be Bucky that–

“Y/n? You need to breathe.” A calm voice called to your side, a small hand pressing against yours.

It was Natasha. Her breaths were labored, yet no panic showed on her face. “He’s going to be–”

“Where are they taking him?” Your voice didn’t sound familiar, quiet and trembling with an uneasiness that hardly found you. Her hand squeezed down on yours, trying her best to steer you away from the full blown panic attack that was creeping up your spine.

You watched uneasily as they took him away, Tony, Bruce, Helen, and Clint jogging after them with loud stomps. Your feet were quick to follow – only to be hindered by Natasha’s hand to your chest. “Going after them now will do you no good. I’ll wait with you until we know more.”

Grinding down on your teeth, you hesitated. Screw waiting. But you knew she was right. Steve wouldn’t allow you to come anywhere near Bucky if what they said happened truly occurred. Reluctantly, you let Natasha guide you back inside and to the main floor living room.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

By the time any updates arrived, your fingernails were halfway chewed off, your leg bouncing up and down furiously from adrenaline. It had been hours since the boys came back, the sun now far below the horizon, a deep, unsettling dusk settling over the sky. Allowing your gaze to drift to the large window panes, you noticed how the stars were hiding tonight, protected by a sea of charcoal black clouds. Maybe they too were afraid of Bucky after seeing the violent acts he committed earlier.

Steve sauntered into the room, his eyes immediately finding yours as you stood up all too quickly. A breath lingered in your throat, waiting for him to speak.

“Bucky is going to be alright. He’s shaken and a little confused, but Dr. Cho has him stable.” Steve offered, barely getting the words out before you started in on the million questions inside your head.

“What the hell happened out there, Steve?” Sitting around for hours did nothing to calm you, tearing you apart little by little instead. “Simple recons don’t look like that.” You pointed a finger to the middle of the Compound, still having no idea where they took Bucky.

Steve’s head dropped, his hand coming to rub against his temple. “Fury and I were wrong. The place wasn’t abandoned — and it wasn’t just any old facility either. It was an old Hydra base…”

Your body seemed to shrivel under his voice.

You knew what was coming next.

“Please don’t tell me they–”

A single look from the man was all the confirmation you needed.

“It happened so fast… I couldn’t get Bucky out in time before they… before they started playing it over the intercoms. After he heard the first word — he looked at me with so much fear, and the next second he looked at me like he had no fucking clue who I was.” He took a deep breath, poorly attempting to cover the quiver in his voice. “We tried to get him out. But they had traps and guards started coming for us and… after Bucky stopped swinging at Sam and I he went straight for them. I couldn’t do anything but watch…”

He shifted back and forth, clearly not wanting to relive the events of earlier. “Then his arm… he got caught in a doorway and I had no choice.”

Your body swayed from the weight of this newfound information, Natasha getting up to stabilize you and move you back to the couch before your legs gave out. Tears pricked at your tired eyes, and you felt entirely helpless. One of your closest friends just had to relive decades worth of trauma because of a stupid mission gone wrong. It seemed unfathomable. No other mission, Hydra or not, had been this catastrophic for Bucky.

“When can I see him?” You feared the answer Steve would give.

“I’m not exactly…”

Steve’s words died in his throat as a gentle knocking came from behind him. The three of you simultaneously picked your heads up, eyes darting to the source.

Stepping out from behind the doorway was a tall man, his deep brown eyes soft and his expression calm and collected. The dark burgundy of his pants matched that of his wrinkle-free jacket, intricate gray detailings sewn in across the chest. It wasn’t anyone you recognized, yet he seemed oddly familiar. His voice drifted inside the room, smooth and precise.

“Captain — I just got off the phone with Shuri. They are ready whenever you are.”

PART ONE PLAYLIST

🌟Songs that have inspired this series 🌟

— April 10, 2019: Powehi - Image of a Black Hole

By Sleeping at Last

— Where We Landed

By SYML

— Atom 1

By Sleeping at Last

— Hold me Tight

By Berlinist

— Sunshine (Adagio in D Minor)

By John Murphy

I recommend listening to the songs in order as shown above. A master playlist will be linked at the end of the series.

Spotify Link to the Chapter One Playlist

[flamingplay]

Interview: Everything Everything’s Jonathan Higgs on AI, Education, & New LP ‘Mountainhead’

by Eric Schuster

Atwood Magazine: Each album you all release has a unique style and theme. I read that Mountainhead draws from an allegory regarding “an alternate society whose existence is dedicated to endlessly growing a mountain by digging deeper at its foot — all in pursuit of a mythical mirror that sits atop its peak while avoiding a massive golden snake that lives in the pit below.” What are some of your favorite sci-fi films or novels?

Jonathan Higgs: Definitely Predator. Definitely Terminator. I like any sort of sci-fi slasher genre like that, like Alien where there’s people being picked off by a monster. It’s not very close to what I’ve written though, for this album. Yeah, I think I was looking for something that was simple enough to say in one sentence, but that could have a huge amount of different meanings if you wanted it to. I guess it would be something like, I don’t even know. It’s way too simple for a film. I think it would have to develop a hell of a lot more, but I think in terms of music, it’s sort of enough to hang everything off without it getting too complex and too bogged down with these rules of the world. It was more like, no, there’s just this big one, big idea and everything is sort of under the shadow of that rather than getting too conceptual kind of puts me off if particularly if albums get too wrapped up in detail and all that stuff. It’s fine for films or novels, it’s essential. But I think when you are making something like an album, it needs to be, the songs need to live without that knowledge. They need to be able to be good by themselves

That’s why it has such a simple setup, because I think anything, I think you can go a bit further, but I want you to keep it really monolithic and simple.

You tackle some big issues in Mountainhead, like the unsustainability of unlimited growth and income inequality and Raw Data Feel tackled the problems associated with AI. Do you see AI helping or exacerbating these issues?

Jonathan Higgs: I think it’ll help a little bit. I don’t see why it would make things worse. It’ll probably be some big tech advances that it’ll help speed up things like sustainability is the big one that everyone’s trying to do, so I don’t see how that could make things worse, but it does, of course, rely on some kind of thing. They keep mining for chips, right? I can’t remember. But there is quite a big environmental impact of making the brains of AI and obviously we’ve seen with crypto what sort of length people will go to improve their computing power and how much energy that uses, et cetera, et cetera. But no, I think it’s probably going to help bring about some of the stuff that we need to happen a bit more quickly, like renewable, wherever that may be. Some kind of advancement will probably occur thanks to ai, but it’s not just a one solution type thing. It’s more like it just looks through the options much more quickly. That’s kind of how I feel about it.

You all are very academic and methodical in your approach to writing music and creating art. Do you have any artists that you are currently listening to that are also pushing the boundaries of music?

Jonathan Higgs: I’m more in touch with what some visual people are doing. There’s this guy called Umami who makes these amazing short videos and he’s made this big long series of them and he does do music in it as well, but it’s primarily like an animation project, and I follow a lot of 3D horror guys. I mean, that’s not music either, really. And I guess musically, oh man, this year has been thin on the ground. It’s only a month in, it’s only a few weeks in. I don’t know. I’m not really tuned into anything new at the moment. I guess it’s because I’m working on other projects, I’m just trying to clear my head of musical stuff at the moment, so I can’t suggest anything.

Your website Edexhell mocked the exam quality that you were issued in school, what do you think of the current state of education?

Jonathan Higgs: I have no idea, is the truth. I don’t have any connection to people of that age. Well, my brother’s kids I guess are teenagers, but it’s Scotland and things tend to be better up there anyway. I don’t actually know. Actually, just about an hour ago I read a report saying that girls are doing better than boys at every age from primary up to uni. And that made me ponder for a moment. I dunno if that’s a problem with education, but there’s definitely something going on there, which is pretty odd. But also my mom, she’s retired now, but she was a teacher and teachers used to get it in the neck so much when I was growing up that I kind of made a soft promise to myself never to diss the education. Well, teachers in particular, I think it’s generally the same as it was. I don’t know, is the truth. I’m not involved.

Did you all see the movie Everything Everything and if so what did you think? How do you feel that they co-opted your name?

Jonathan Higgs: No, we didn’t see it. We were not very pleased with that, to be honest. It meant that 99% of Google searches for us just end up with that. Nothing against the film, but it can fuck off.

What job do you think you would have if you were not a musician?

Jonathan Higgs: I’d be in movies. I think I’d be making them, not in them. I’d be somewhere along the creative line, hopefully directing, but who knows? I could happily do that now. I do that now. I’ve directed, most of our music videos have been by me, so yeah, I enjoy that hugely.

Do you have any favorite directors?

Jonathan Higgs: Yeah, well, there’s a lot of good ones at the moment, aren’t there? I really liked Robert Eggers. I thought The Northman was brilliant. I know it was a bit silly, but I absolutely loved it. I just saw Poor Things. I thought that was pretty good. I think it’s actually a pretty great time for film at the moment. This year’s last year’s Oscar bait sort of, well, not Oscar bait, but just the things that are about to get awards in about a month and lots of really great stuff. I thought Anatomy of a Fall was amazing. I’ll always watch whatever Ridley s Scott’s up to. Yeah, I prefer, I get more excited, not prefer, but I get more excited about movies than albums recently just because I’m not, I feel like I’m so in bed with music that it’s a bit like work sometimes and movies is a bit more like I can be a fan rather than somebody who’s involved.

You mentioned that the mirror at the top of Mountainhead represents the fact that even if “you’ve got it all, what have you really got?” What is your favorite material item that you own and why?

Jonathan Higgs: Oh, my PC, no question. I’ve had a PC since I was in middle school, and then there was a long period where I didn’t have one and then I got one again and I was like, fuck, why did I have that period in my life without one? It’s the best tool a human has ever created, easily outside of the stick. It’s brilliant. I absolutely love it for creating. The power I have as one person now compared to when I was a kid on a computer is just extraordinary. The things I can make, the level of quality that you can make now the consumer can make is astounding.

This album deals with what it means to be a “human,” which is something that has been explored for centuries but has gotten harder to define as technology has infiltrated our everyday lives. What do you think are the best ways to connect with other people?

Jonathan Higgs: Sitting round a fire, the oldest one, it’s always being the best one, but if you can’t do that, then face-to-Face Place with breathable air is probably the next best thing. And obviously you can’t always do that, but doing what we’re doing now is okay.

A lot of songwriters seem to slow down as their careers progress, but you all are as prolific as ever, perhaps even more so now. Where do you find the creative energy (and literal energy) to keep creating such thought-provoking and high-intensity albums?

Jonathan Higgs: Well, I don’t have kids, so I’ve got all the energy I ever had, and a lot of my job is sitting down, so to be honest, I could use up more of my energy. In fact, a lot of my songs are about the fact that I don’t use my energy, don’t use my body. So I’ve never had a problem with that. We don’t really get, well, I don’t really get drained of juice because I don’t think making an album is very difficult. Really. We’ve done it seven times and making another one doesn’t sound difficult either. Making a good album is quite hard though.

You said it's not very physical, but that music video for Cold Reactor, you guys are out there in the cold and that looked pretty physical.

Jonathan Higgs: Well, that was a big day. We actually made five music videos that day.

Oh my god.

Jonathan Higgs: Yeah, we did all the whole album’s worth in one day, and there was a big storm that was coming into the Slate Mine, where we were. So that had a bit of a hard limit on it in terms of when we could be there. We were about to die, so that made it kind of fun.

Manchester is a modestly sized city in comparison to many other major cities in the world, yet some of the biggest and best bands of the last half-century have formed there. What do you think it is about Manchester that makes it such a hot-spot for artists?

Jonathan Higgs: It rains all the time. There’s lots and lots of venues that are good, and I think there’s good unis, so there’s good students starting bands, but there’s also this culture of music that’s already, what, forty years old, and I think people go there with the intention of being involved in music, whereas you wouldn’t get that in a lot of cities. I mean, I’m one of those people. I’m not really from Manchester, and I went there to start a band. I knew that was a place where bands could exist. It’s not like a fantastical idea that you might start a band, whereas there’s plenty of places you can go and no one will join your band. Manchester’s always been good for that. I think it self perpetuates really. Now we’ve got this culture and we’ve got this history. Then it generates more good bands.

You all have accomplished a ton in your Manchester is a modestly sized city in comparison to many other major cities in the world, yet some of the biggest and best bands of the last half-century have formed there. What do you think it is about Manchester that makes it such a hot-spot for artists?

Jonathan Higgins: It rains all the time. There’s lots and lots of venues that are good, and I think there’s good unis, so there’s good students starting bands, but there’s also this culture of music that’s already, what, forty years old, and I think people go there with the intention of being involved in music, whereas you wouldn’t get that in a lot of cities. I mean, I’m one of those people. I’m not really from Manchester, and I went there to start a band. I knew that was a place where bands could exist. It’s not like a fantastical idea that you might start a band, whereas there’s plenty of places you can go and no one will join your band. Manchester’s always been good for that. I think it self perpetuates really. Now we’ve got this culture and we’ve got this history. Then it generates more good bands.

You all have accomplished a ton in your tenure as a group. Is there anything you still hope to accomplish in your musical career?

Jonathan Higgs: Career? Oh yeah, definitely. We want a number one album. We want to headline Glastonbury Asbury, all the things that a band could ever want. I feel like we’ve achieved 1% of it, 8% of it. So yeah, you name it. I’d love to have a whole new chapter of the band.

[rooreelooo]

Is your Nuts and Bolts LP still available anywhere?

hello, anonymous person from 2016. yes it IS.

when you originally asked this question it wasn't, but hey 8 years have passed and things have changed now. the world fucking sucks, but ONE way that it has improved is that i made the effort to upload my LPs to a modern video hosting platform. all three LPs are here - totalling 1 day, 15 hours, 22 mins and 36 secs of video. that's a lot! a lot a lot a lot! (remember that guy from majora's mask?)

and because i'm insane i also went to the effort of adding 'director's commentary' to every video, padding out this project even further. that's over 42,000 words of commentary that literally nobody will ever read, because immediately after i posted it all youtube rolled out an updated video design that masked the video description underneath a dropdown menu, thus ensuring my gags and mental breakdowns remain entombed in obscurity (where they absolutely belong). thanks a fucking lot!

this reupload project also features over 10k words of nuts & bolts fanfiction i wrote to go alongside the videos, which is... also something that nobody will ever read. i linked it here anyway. one thing about me is that i labour over massive projects that nobody will ever see, and i never finish them. my hard drive is a graveyard of video and writing projects that will never see the light of day in either complete or incomplete form. can i be real for a second though? i LOVE this. i think this is one of the funniest things i have ever written lmao. and i actually got it not only completed, but posted publicly too. holy shit.

i'm split on whether i should do anything else with this project. on the one hand, all that commentary i spent over a year writing should have a chance at being seen. arguably i should start putting those gags and comments somewhere that they might actually get eyes on them, like here on tumblr or on cohost or something. on the other hand, this is already a 16-year old video project that i have arguably milked for way more than it's actually worth. i already added unnecessary extra commentary to a dead series of LPs, can you imagine anything more depressingly recursive and masturbatory than putting those comments elsewhere... with further comments? lmao. that would be a horse-flogging so thorough that the horse would be reduced to a fine red paste.

don't let the big cartoon eyes on it's head fool you, this stone has no blood left to be wrung. but here's the links. enjoy them, please. don't forget they were made between the years of 2008-2010, that is very important contextualizing information. and for the curious, the reason why i never completed nuts & bolts is because i was depressed. and the reason why i have struggled to complete any creative pursuits for my entire adult life is because the spectre of this fucking project looms over me, kindly reminding me that this will ultimately be the fate of artistic endeavor i attempt.

[youwouldntlietopapa]

If it isn't too much trouble, might I request some wholesome headcanons for the Papa (or Papas) of your choice helping a reader who has seasonal affective disorder, and gets depressed during the winter time when it isn't as sunny out and all the colorful plants and trees are dead/dormant?

Doesn't have to be multiple Papas, just whoever you feel like writing for :3

Not too much trouble at all! This was extremely cute and I needed that. Thank you!

All right, here we go.

Primo:

He’s not particularly fond of the winter either. The cold makes his joints ache and not having his garden to work in leaves him with too much time on his hands.

It does give him an idea to help you both however and he goes on a bit of a shopping spree.

Suddenly your quarters are filled with plants. Brightly coloured potted plants of all types. Succulents and flowers and vines, a massive monstera, and a fern or two.

Among his shopping haul are a few rather high end grow lights. After doing some reading, he discovered they can also help with SAD, so win-win.

“They make the plants happy and they make you happy. You see? I say you are il mio fiore prezioso (my precious flower) and science says also to treat you like so. Good light. Plant friends. More water. You know how good I take care of my garden, amore. I don’t let you wilt, eh?”

He’d been so grumpy about being stuck inside and having nothing to keep himself busy with, he finally has something to throw himself into.

Making you happy makes him happy, everyone benefits.

Also gives you a chance to buy him a very silly “Plant Dad” shirt.

Secondo:

He doesn’t say much at first, seeing there’s a problem and quietly going about trying to find a solution.

You are sad, so doing things for you he knows you usually make you happy makes sense. But this seems like something else.

Finally gives in and just asks. He’s very bad at guessing. He tries, but he’s so bad at it. Please just tell this man.

Once he understands the problem, he can plan properly. And, luckily, he has SO many saved holiday hours. Besides, there’s the Abbey in Rome. He can work from there just as easily. If not more so.

Immediately books you both a trip to Italy and rents a private villa with a view.

He plays tour guide every time you go out and is, genuinely, excited to show you everything. Places he grew up, that he loves and has missed, all the food and wine and art and history.

For Secondo, who is often a man of few words, he talks more than you’ve ever heard him speak in the weeks you’re there. The sunshine and the warmth and the beauty definitely improve your mood, but seeing him almost giddy over getting to introduce you to new things might actually be the best part.

Or maybe seeing him in a speedo when you go to the beach.

Both. Probably both.

Terzo:

This man can’t stand seeing you sad. He NEEDS to fix this.

Much like Primo, he goes shopping. Unlike Primo, he fills your quarters with every rose he could lay his hands on.

When you find him, he’s laid out on the bed only covered by a few strategically placed rose petals. Nips and bits.

He also has a new collection of the gaudiest floral shirts, suits, and ties you’ve ever seen.

After deciding that just sitting with the sun lamp isn’t enough to cheer anyone up, he sets up a “picnic” on the floor. Blanket, basket, and all the extras laid out under the lamp. So you can enjoy the sunshine and his company.

He will do pretty much anything it takes to make you smile. Including coming to find you in his Papal robes and nothing else, and shaving his pubes into fun and amusing shapes.

And, at the end of the day, he’ll make your favourite dinner, put on your favourite movie, and wrap you in cuddles and kisses and love.

Copia:

He struggles with SAD as well. It’s something he usually just tries to bully himself into dealing with and keeping it to himself.

But you’re not him. You’re important. For the first time he’s actually motivated to try and find something that helps.

All the things he privately brushed off as “silly” or deciding they wouldn’t work, he’s suddenly eager to try for your sake.

He thinks that, at least if you’re happy, and he helped, he’ll feel better.

The truth is, he’s helping himself as much as you.

Not everything works, but you tried it together and that made it worth while.

Some things are genuinely helpful and doing those things together is also made even better.

Just knowing that neither of you are alone and that you both have someone who understands and has your back is the most helpful thing.

Especially on days when one of you is just not in a mood to be cheered up, you know that’s okay. That you’re allowed to be sad and they’ll be there in whatever way you need without judging you or being weird about it.

You found things that worked and that didn’t together. You can do this together too.

He does make one purchase though. A pair of unicorn onsies. For bad days. So you can put on something both comfy and silly. Which, more often than not, is actually helpful. Especially watching him trying to sneak to the kitchens for snacks in his without getting caught.

[zahri-melitor]

Batman Reborn: let's break it down.

So I read eight ongoing Reborn titles: Batman, Detective Comics, Batman & Robin, Red Robin, Birds of Prey, Batgirl, Streets of Gotham and Azrael.

Detective Comics: this was the unexpected standout of the set. 'Tec quite often does good family stories, but it got a massive boost by most of its Reborn run being made up of two things: Rucka's Batwoman run and Snyder's The Black Mirror. These are both very, very worthwhile longform stories. It also supported an excellent backup with the Question & Huntress teamup.

Streets of Gotham: aka Dini does his thing. Streets was exactly what I expected from a Bat anthology book written by Dini. Dini's very good at balancing big casts, and the first half of this run was Dini at his best - lots of walk on characters, complex plots, the only really good Damian Wayne characterisation going prior to Bruce's resurrection, and a lot of fun. Andreyko's Manhunter backup was also fantastic. The second half then devolved into interminable Hush storytelling, which I ALSO expect from Dini at this point, and the Two-Face backup simply wasn't as good. It was still enjoyable! But the non-Hush stories were better.

Batman: now here was a title all over the place. It just rotated through SO MANY hands. Personally my favourite stories were: #703, where for one shining moment we got an issue that managed to have Dick, Tim and Damian on page together, in costume, working together (Thank you, Fabian Nicieza); and the Judgment on Gotham crossover that finished out the plot of Azrael. Both were exactly what I enjoy seeing - stories using their supporting cast well. Other than that, you had the Jeremiah Arkham plot, the Kitrina Falcone plots (oh Kitrina), Riddler going back off the rails (I somehow missed where he decided to flip back to being a bad guy instead of a detective), and Two-Face being betrayed by Gilda. There was just so much going on here, and unfortunately it wasn't focused enough on what was going on for Dick.

Azrael: because sometimes you need a tragedy! Azrael was fun. Overtly religious and leaning into Christian theology in places (and Dan Brown plotlines in others), the entire premise of the book was "Watch Michael Lane have a breakdown as he is corrupted by the Suit of Sorrows" and that is exactly what we got. I liked FabNic's plots better than Jim Hine's, but they both pulled off some fun storytelling (I burst out laughing at times. Like when Crusader revealed The Bees). I'm glad it got the crossover to finish out the storyline. The Order of Purity are very bad news, even for a breakaway sect of the Order of St Dumas.

Batman & Robin: oh. Where do I start. This run is, above all, a lot of lost potential. I found Morrison's writing in this particularly painful and a struggle to get through due to their refusal to keep track of what was going on in any other title, and just everything about the way Damian and Alfred in particular were written. I was also particularly aggravated by the timeline inconsistency that B&R #10-16 by any realistic read come AFTER RR #12 (given the resurrection timeline running ahead of all the other titles), but there was no acknowledgment of this fact in the text, and parts of it contradicted that read...this is what an editor should be keeping smoothed out for such a big event (the Return of Bruce Wayne).

Once Morrison left things improved, but realistically it just turned into three separate writers writing three separate stories that didn't really mesh at all. Cornell's story was just more demonisation of Vicky Vale, Winick's story was just Winick writing a Jason story rather than anything about the two title characters, and Tomasi's story was the only one where I actually enjoyed Batman & Robin as a title... only to be let down by the artist clearly never having seen a reference picture of Rebecca or Aaron Langstrom before. You had a villain construct angel wings. On Aaron Langstrom. AARON. LANGSTROM. He's a toddler who is permanently a Man-Bat. He can already fly. The opening movie night though in Tomasi's story was extremely Tomasi and everything my heart wanted.

Birds of Prey: I enjoyed the storytelling in this, though parts of it were very clearly Gail Simone on board. Since I enjoy Simone, I didn't mind that, but for instance the entire plot revolving around rescuing Sin was very much a 'take that' for Sin being written out. I also quite enjoyed the Death of Oracle plot even if I have certain objections to Cass being left off the list (and boggling at the logistics of Wendy and Damian also being left off). Oracle got herself a new Tower!

I have to say though, I cannot imagine how this run would read if you were not already deeply familiar with Simone's first run on Birds of Prey, because she spent so much time picking up dropped plot threads and playing them out.

Andreyko's double issue to finish the book off was actually more of a tie off to his Manhunter backup plot than a Birds of Prey finishing-up plot, which makes sense as it's Andreyko, but it was a little unexpected in that the proper finale of the series was actually #13, not #15.

Batgirl: hmmmm. Yeah, this was probably the weakest written of all 8 and also the book that's aged the fastest. What I think it was successful in doing: look, I loved the Barbara and Wendy plot. That worked really well and was unfortunately the only points in the story that felt like Barbara was fully in character. I also think it was successful in being Stephanie's story. In fact, it felt like Steph was telling it to me. And in the process, eliding over her own mistakes and boosting up how much she was getting praised for her actions. It reminded me a LOT of Cassie Sandsmark's origin story telling in Young Justice Secret Files and Origins - where the main character is telling me her version of events. I actually kind of wish we hadn't got any of Barbara's thought bubbles around Steph, because when they were, they were pretty un-Barbaraish.

Look, there was some fun storytelling here. It was a light and fluffy title. But I don't think it ever fully succeeded in rehabilitating Steph as a usable character for the wider community, because the book so blatantly refused to grapple with Steph's previous actions. Things that other characters had done to Steph and things Editorial had done to Steph? Yes. Things Steph herself did? No.

Red Robin: I loved that this was one of the few titles explicitly committed to trying to keep on top of everything was happening in all of the other books. I enjoyed Yost's run more than Nicieza's, but FabNic also had some great stuff (the Ünternet issue is understandably popular for a reason). Tam, Pru and Lonnie all played off Tim in interesting ways. I actually enjoyed Tim having his little, deserved, breakdown. He spends most of the title at the outer limits of his smugness, using it to conceal his gaps in self-confidence, and while I enjoy Tim being a brat in that manner, this is another title that is just so very informed by pre-existing history that you need to know that Tim is both not quite himself right now, and WHY that is. He was settling back into himself by the end of the book.

I am extremely sad this got cut off where it did, because it was so, so obviously working its way into trying to find a new identity for Tim and move him into adulthood... and then got cut off at the knees, sending Tim into a tailspin holding pattern for a decade that they've only JUST been able to extract him from.

[krowjones]

// i'm genuinely amazed at how quickly this blog is gaining attention. it's only been like a day and a half or so. very exciting tbh!

// i haven't done tumblr rp (successfully) in a long time. been since like 2017 that i ran an rp blog that was semi-popular. but my writing has massively improved in 7 years and i've grown as a person. nowadays i feel far more confident in what i'm doing.

// this vlog-style ask blog approach is something i've never done before (nor do i know if it's popular). i've personally never seen anything like it, though i'm sure others do it. it's just something i thought of to accommodate my writing style without all the awkwardness of setting up closed rps with specific people or always reaching out to communicate, which i've found to be the biggest barrier for lit rpers.

// this blog is actually a big thing for me, though. i decided to dip my toes back into tumblr rp after past complications with private rps on Discord and being personally hurt by others. so i'm very happy that it's going so well already. i think by doing things this way, i have a lot more control over my rp experience and it'll go far better this time.

// thank you to everyone who has already sent in asks! reminder that you're free to do follow-up responses too if you want. your interactions and enthusiasm for Krow means more to me than you know. i'm so happy you all love him as much as i do. 💗

[ohmygodshesinsane]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love

hihi! thank you for sending this 💞 i have been sooo absent it's not even funny. but i will rec my five fave fics atm that i've written!

Seventeen - 'James and Lily host a party they never thought they would get to see. Their miracle.' This is a Jily Lives! AU set on Harry's seventeenth birthday, written for AllThoseDarlings' Prongs Party earlier this year. I got surprisingly emotional writing this story, and it made my heart hurt for about a week.

you are sick and you are married and you might be dying - 'Daphne’s laugh is very unlike Astoria’s. “That’s the thing,” she says. “That’s the thing. You’re both too bloody busy people-pleasing." Gabrielle has seen too much to believe in asking the universe for anything, so she wants nothing and takes whatever she gets. When her life tangles with Astoria Malfoy's, this becomes significantly more difficult.' This one isn't Jily, but was written for a HP Femslash microfic prompt. I got out of my comfort zone for this one, but I'm really pleased with how it turned out.

Mercy - 'The Potters are not killed that night in Godric's Hollow, but Lord Voldemort is defeated. Lily has to navigate the consequences of war and raise a family in the shadow of loss in a world that has been nearly torn apart. OR: Compassion to oneself, Healer Armitage says, is often the hardest to extend.' This was for a jilymicrofic prompt in April, and is essentially a character study of Lily if she and James had survived. Again, I got just a little bit emotional writing it 😅 and I think it really helped with my characterisation of Lily throughout my fics.

creature comfort - 'Look, James Potter is trying not to be an arrogant berk. Lily Evans has been given a prefect badge and the role of 'swot', but she has other ideas. Sirius Black would love to have a normal life, honestly, as would Remus Lupin. Severus Snape wants to leave his muggle heritage behind, and Dorcas Meadowes spends more time in her own head than the real world. Peter Pettigrew is sick of being left out, Mary Macdonald wants to fit in, and Regulus Black is walking a well-worn path. Growing up is hard at the best of times, and these? These are the worst of times. [1975-1976]' This one is a massive labour of love, and while the earlier writing isn't my best work, this fic has been a massive opportunity for me to improve my writing and to really get into the nitty-gritty of the way I see the marauders. It's helped me learn how to craft plots and write different dynamics. If you want, essentially, The Ultimate Guide to Finn's Writing Style and Progression Over The Last Three Years, this is it.

You're On Your Own, Kid - 'Marlene is on her own and fine with it, really, honestly, truly. She has her friends (until the war claims them) and her freedom (until the war takes that, too) and prefers flying to putting roots down (until that's stolen from her forever). But she'll manage on her own. She always has. What's a little bloodshed anyway?' This one is another character study, this time of Marlene McKinnon, and was written for the HP Ladies Fest. Writing this helped me work through a lot of my own feelings and is the only fic of mine I return to to read for pleasure, not just for continuity purposes.

So here we are! Five self-recs from me ❤️

[a-student-out-of-time]

Happy Near Year Mod! Thank you for making this blog, it's gotten me thru some rough patches, I hope you have an amazing wonderful fantastic 2023 for you and all your friends who help make Student out of Time the fun story it is n.n

//Thanks, everyone ^^

//Yeah, it’s crazy how the year’s already almost over. It honestly doesn’t really feel like it, but here we are.

//2022 was....a mixed bag. It had numerous moments where it seemed like things were once again getting worse, only to do a massive turnaround. World War III is not on the horizon, no matter what you might hear from alarmist sources or clickbaity videos. Nevertheless, we still have a lot of issues that need to be addressed, some old and some new.

//On the other hand, a lot of good’s happened both for the world at large and for me personally. I think I’ve put out some of the best arcs this blog has seen this year, and now that I’m working more closely with more creators, I’m hoping to continue that trend.

//Not only that, but this year was where I actually got a lot done. I managed to improve as an artist and writer in ways I didn’t think I ever would, and I’ve really made some steps forward not only in writing this blog but also in my other projects.

//I also wanted to take a look at the arcs that’ve come and gone, and ask myself if my opinions on them have changed. So have they?

//Ehh...not really, but upon reflection, my early stuff really isn’t as bad as I used to think it was:

//You can see the areas in which I felt I needed the most improvement ^^;

//But at the same time, as we inch closer to 1,000 followers, this year really got me thinking about how so many of you actually really seemed to enjoy my early stuff and still enjoy what’s going on now.

//For a long time, especially in 2021 and earlier this year, I was considering possibly running a poll on whether or not I should reboot this blog. I was convinced that everyone had the same issues regarding my earlier stuff as I did, and there things that they couldn’t get passed that hampered their ability to enjoy the story.

//But now that we’ve moved further and further into better works, such as arcs I’ve written with Mod Poi and Mod Honey, and the assistance I’ve gotten from TA, Mod Carol, Creepercraftguy and others, it’s honestly made me move away from that mindset. Not to mention the number of asks I’ve actually gotten in regards to that issue have been minimal. 

//I actually saw a great video the other day from Zoe Bee called The truth about being a content creator (or, "quit apologizing and be an artist"), where she talks very earnestly about the struggles of being a content creator. I related to it on a lot of levels, but the part that really stood out to me was the ending where she showed comments from people who genuinely enjoyed and appreciated what she does. And it reminded me of all the kind and supportive followers I have here.

//Depression makes it hard to feel like you’ve earned any genuine kindness, and when people give it to you in that state, it doesn’t feel real or you don’t feel like you can accept it. But you can, and you should. When people appreciate what you do, that means you have made a real, tangible impact on someone’s life in a positive way.

//I’ve made it no secret that I struggle with that negative mindset, but I’m trying every day to get a little better at it. Sometimes I need breaks, and sometimes I don’t feel like I’m doing enough, but I’m working on steadily improving my outlook on myself and life as a whole.

//I’ve always said, if people enjoy works you don’t care for or don’t like, that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with them. On the contrary, it can mean that someone got something out of it that maybe you didn’t; that maybe they saw it in a unique way and it appealed to them.

//In the case of works you yourself make that you don’t like, but other people enjoy, maybe it goes to show that your perception of yourself doesn’t have to be so negative. You’re the one who’ll think the most about the flaws of your work, but the people who appreciate it will like it for its strengths.

//To everyone who’s ever followed me and enjoys the work I do, you guys are the reason I feel like I can keep going. It makes me happy to know you like this giant nerd’s ridiculous ideas ^^

//And I don’t want to hype things up too much, but with what we have planned for the coming year, it’s only gonna get better

//Happy new year, everyone!

[faithdevotion]

Have you made any new friends this year in the fandom your muse is from? Who?

How have you grown as a rper this year?

Have you read/watched/played anything new thanks to the rpc this year?

Tag a blog whose writing inspired you this year.

Tag a blog that taught you something new this year.

End of the year asks: rpc edition. | @therogueprincedaemon

Answers under the cut <3

Have you made any new friends this year in the fandom your muse is from? Who?

Ooof... I write in so many verses that honestly I have a list of wonderful people I've met through each one of them... Some from even before I made this blog that one way or the other stuck with me, or I reconnected with them. So I won't be mentioning because I fear I might miss someone and I don't want to mess up (goldfish brain)... But they're all deeply appreciated and loved by me, and of course have all my gratitude for making my return to writing so heartwarming. Some of them I only got to know recently, and they've been nothing but lovely.

3. How have you grown as a rper this year?

I improved my writing so much, that almost all my threads are para/novella. I established wonderful ships that I believe will last, so I think the growth has been massive compared to previous years, and I honestly believe it helped me be more mindful of who I write with and who I want to establish connections with. Not only that, but I used to be open to everyone, but I soon realized I can't be because I need to protect my babies as well.

5. Have you read/watched/played anything new thanks to the rpc this year?

Movie: Eastern Promises, because the wonderful Igor created by @mettleborn motivated me so much to watch it.

TV Shows: House of the Dragon thanks to you, because I had it on my watchlist, and you motivated me enough to see it. I remember you suggested many more things, and I've seen them, but I can't remember now

11. Tag a blog whose writing inspired you this year.

Answered here.

15. Tag a blog that taught you something new this year.

I feel the need to mention more blogs aside from one in this. @therogueprincedaemon (you) is a first. Taught me about being motivated & creative enough to create characters & edits & to learn I can have long-lasting connections that won't be tossed away, @thxwxlf & @wellfell taught me about creating well-developed OCs that people get to be so in love and awe with them, @justafleck taught me: to research further into my muse's occupations, so I, as a mun, could deliver such tools to my OCs in order to write them and develop their personality, @xx--ofmanythoughts--xx taught me I can assist my wonderful mutuals with their graphics/gifs needs through my skills without hesitation and... @supersonicdreams taught me that there are muns here whom are native Spanish speakers, latinos & FREAKING nice like myself and that makes me so happy because at times, I feel I'm somehow alone in the rpc when it comes to it. It's in latino nature/culture to be hella passionate about everything, and sometimes I need to share that passion without me thinking that I come off as too intense aodjisjfjo

[sunshinexlollipops]

Hello! Hope not to bug you, I just read acw for the first time and WOW. It was by far the most beautiful, intricate work I've ever read in my life. Really, you are a novelist. I noticed that it hadn't been posted in about 3 years and I was wondering if it was orphaned? Just curious, no hate! Absolutely love your works, thank you!

help there anon!

sorry my notifs always get fucking eaten on this app and I'm inept too which doesn't help, bUT I just wanted to say that in general, ACW isn't abandoned!

I know it's been a hot minute since I have written anything but I've had a lot go on since the start of 2020, as you can imagine. not only in the world but personal life. and it just carried over into 2021. and 2022. and now into 2023. however, I am A LOT better now than I was at the start.

not trying to personally dump because there's just too much to summarize on this app, and some things I'm just not comfy sharing, but I got diagnosed with things like ADHD and depression, and not only am I working on treatment/management with my psych and therapist, altogether it's been a process of adaptation after knowing why my brain do what it do.

slowly I've been getting back into creating. bc I didn't. for all the time I was gone, I didn't produce really...anything. writing, art— nada. I've made some good progress esp since late 2022 when I started to come back to some things, but it used to be I wouldn't even read fic, watch movies/shows, engage with things... I was basically in a massive depressive episode. so I've been slowly reconnecting with art and in turn just that side of me.

I'm sure people who follow me/pay it mind (and it's okay if you don't lol) have seen recently I've been making and posting art I've made since I got back from LA a little bit ago.

I haven't drawn or been artistic like that in a long while. and while I've created things here and there, it was usually for someone else/social things I was doing. I struggled even with that, so it probs happened altogether less than 10 times over the last few years... this is the first I've just been creating and enjoying myself since then.

there's a lot that is still changing for me. and there's some major things shifting behind the scenes for me still that are playing out. I still intend to finish ACW, I'm just having to handle myself, and overall, I'm coming back into what used to feel like second nature.

so apologies for the wait. in a way, I kind of have been stuck with y'all during the hiatus. I got as much out of it as y'all did, lol. but I'm hoping with this continued improvement, and once things settle a bit more on my end, that writing will come back to me more and more. I've been able to do things here and there, so I'm hopeful.

also, another issue is google. my old acct ran out of space so anything I have made is completely locked up. I can't even EDIT my old docs. it's bad. I've tried to free shit up but it's like google replaces what I delete somehow and I'm always at my limit. so that's been a hassle in and of itself and I am working around that too.

fingers crossed this ship finally leaves the harbor I've docked it at for some time. I love ACW. I see what y'all write. and I know I don't often respond to comments but I read them. I see them. and I'm honored my story has had the impact and love that it has. ACW legit is one of my most beloved works by both myself and its readers. so thank you for that.

but I hope everyone does know that even if it may take me a while, I plan to come back and complete it once I'm properly able! and thank you for your understanding and patience w me. 💕

[melancholicscoundrel]

Getting to Know You Tag Game

Thanks for tagging me @teagrammy 😊 I love talking about myself

I’ll tag @oldfritz @arthoe-iceland @magicsuga and @dein-lieblingsdummkopf. Anyone else who would like to participate is welcome.

What book are you currently reading?

I had just finished reading Gideon the Ninth after years of seeing so much beautiful art of the skull-faced lesbians and I am in love.

What’s your favourite movie you saw in theatres this year?

I haven’t been to a movie theater in years and haven’t seen any theatrically released movies from this year at all, though there are numerous movies I want to see.

So I’ll say All Quiet on the Western Front (2022). I enjoyed it a lot, but I still prefer the 1979 version.

What do you usually wear?

Old clothes that are no longer my style but I’ve been too poor to get a new wardrobe. I still look like a miserable little teenager wearing my old skinny jeans, oversized hand-me-down tees with a hoodie and my faded work boots that I’ve worn everyday since I was 17. But that’s only when I leave the house. At home, which is where I’m mostly found, I wear baggy sweats.

How tall are you?

5 ft and 1.5 in

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

Scorpio. Nobody I like shares my birthday and nothing particularly interesting (that I know of) occurred on my special day.

Do you go by your name or a nick-name?

Unfortunately, I only go by my incongruous name assigned at birth. I’ve always wanted a nickname but nobody around me is creative enough to give me one.

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

AHAHAHAHAHAA. Well, when I was little I wanted to become a writer and artist, and I am getting there, so that’s one thing.

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

Nope. No matter how much I long for my better half I know I’m in no way shape or form ready for a serious relationship.

I have a massive crush on someone whose face I have never seen nor have I so much as heard their voice.

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

I’m good at keeping a poker-face and I’m good at planning. I’m bad at sticking with my plans, as I tend to get distracted or lose motivation.

Dogs or cats?

Cats! Dogs I find irritating and I’m not a fan of slobber. Doesn’t mean I dislike them, I just don’t want to own one. Cats on the other hand are chill, I adore them and can’t wait to get a kitten ❤️❤️

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you created this year?

There are many lines of dialogue I’ve written as well as a finished character sheet I’ve drawn that I’m proud of, but I won’t post any of it here. That I’ll save for when I’ve made a separate blog for my art and writing.

What’s something you would like to create content for?

My story. I’ve never posted anything about it yet, I need to stop procrastinating and actually draw my ocs so that I have something to post.

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

My ocs. I couldn’t be more obsessed with anything else, they are my world. But after reading the first book, the Locked Tomb series now occupies a little compartment in my brain as well.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

To finally leave the nest and start living like a functioning adult, which didn’t happen. But I do have a job where I make a little more than minimum wage, and there’s always next year.

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

I have pretty good aim, but I was never interested in sports or weapons to really hone the ability.

Are you religious?

FUCK no. Not a spiritual person either. I’m just raw dogging life, hoping for the best.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

No depression and $30,000 so I don’t have to stay with my parents improving my mental health and saving money for yet another year and just dip tf out with adequate savings and a healthy mind.

[oleanderblume]

I don't know how else to put this, so here goes.

From one indie author to another, you have a long road ahead of you. I can't tell if you're serious about your publishing career, considering that your blog is full of average Tumblr blog reblogs in-between the sparse posts about your book and other author-ly posts.

First, your marketing could use some work. Most readers will want a summary of the book they are being presented instead of being spoon-fed tropes and other weird Tumblr lingo.

Second, I would suggest getting a new book cover. The one you have now is an eyesore, to be quite frank. The rainbow barrage of colors is just not a good look, and it is very poor graphic design.

Third, you could use a new blurb. Blurbs are very important to sell your novel, and the one you have now left a lot to be desired. Not only is it a massive infodump in the first sentence alone, but it also leaves the genre unclear and is overall worded very confusingly. Blurbs are hard to write, I get it, so I recommend hiring someone else to write one for you.

That's all I have to say. Wishing you the best of luck in your writing endeavors.

Thank you, I'm self pub and honestly don't have any intention of turning my work into a typical run of the mill sort of book marketing scheme, or a full time job. I write because I like to, and I market when I want to. (This being my actual first attempt)

The design and color scheme being loud is intentional, along with the title and the general premise. It's *supposed* to be jarring because how can a story about interdimensional space clowns not be? It's targeted toward people who would be drawn to a book about interdimensional space clowns lol.

My entire marketing is the concept of "this is sounds weird as fuck, wanna read it?"

Idk if you followed the link but the actual blurb is:

Oliver Tarsul is a mostly average 14-year-old kid; aside from being the unwilling roommate to an interdimensional space clown his step-father solicited to rebuild a portal designed by his recently deceased mother. Things are more than a little complicated. Regardless, dealing with a gelatinous slime monster in the shape of a clown girl named Dindet, while also trying to stay under the radar as the only trans kid in school, proves to be significantly harder than he imagined. But the fallout of his mother's supposed death didn't just bring into question what she was working on and who she was working with. It also brought along with it a part of Oliver's past that he'd rather just forget. His biological father.

"Interdimensional space clown" and "portal" pretty clearly state that it's a science fiction, and the inclusion of the MC's personal history denotes a level of reality to the absurd premise.

It's not perfect, obviously, I can recognize that for sure. But I have plenty of time to improve lol.

My blazed post isn't trying to sound like an advertisement because I'm shit at it and that's the point. I don't want to be that platformed, weirdly separated, perfectly curated author. I'm a person first and this is my personal social media, so I will use it personally.

Also...I'm not sure where you're getting your information, but largely what I have seen as successful marketing for books in today's internetty age, *is* utilizing tropes. Like entire manuscripts get picked up by agents based purely off tropes and incredibly brief pitches. There are entire events on social media created to facilitate these sort of pitches for agents and traditional publishers because it's proven to be somewhat successful. (Its also recognizable to the fic community, who I feel would likely be interested in au and original content that fits their favorite tropes)

But...I mean, I've had several notes of people reblogging and saving the blazed post in their tags and thats proof enough to me that my half assed attempt worked.

So, I appreciate the constructive criticism, but I'm not trying to do stuff the normal people way, and definitely not on the single website where doing things the normal people way would work more likely to my detriment lol.

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Hey I wanted to do ur matchmaker thing bc i thought it would be fun abd also i just generally like ur content! I’m fine being matched with either DC characters or HP characters (preferably marauder era ones). Also i’m bisexual with a preference for women but if you think a guy really matches my vibe thats totally fine

Ok so this is kinda hard but i’m gonna try my best to describe myself. I’m white (mostly German and Belgian) with brown hair and green eyes and i’m 5’9 (dreaming of a day i reach 6ft despite the fact that i’m 18 and will probs not grow anymore). I’ve lived in Houston, Texas my whole life and have never moved. Actually i’ve never even traveled outside of the USA and have only traveled out of state 4 times i think. So yeah, pretty sheltered but thats mostly due to money stuff. I would love to travel the world later in life; somewhere like Italy or really anywhere with interesting and old architecture.

I’m a massive introvert who 9 times out of 10 would absolutely rather stay home. That paired with a diagnosed anxiety disorder pretty much means a lot of alone time that honestly i really enjoy. I LOVE reading. I’ve been a big reader since elementary school and never stopped. About 4 years ago i also got really into comics, specifically batman and all the robins that he replaces like a parent exchanges their child’s dead goldfish for a new one so they don’t have to learn abt death yet. I also like reading classics like pride and prejudice, (promise i’m not trying to get Jason i just relate to him a lot on this)A picture of dorian gray, Frankenstein, and Maurice. (I’m also trying to get my hands on a copy of camilla bc like sapphic vampires!??? Absolutely). Although i would def not characterize myself as a writer I am trying to improve my writing skills bc its something i honestly enjoy and it’s kinda my dream job even if it’s unrealistic.

Ummm idk what else to write. Maybe some quick fun facts.

- my fave color is forest green💚

- i have a twin sister who i have a kinda rocky relationship with. Mostly bc she just has so much energy and she’s really sociable. Basically we dont really mesh but she’s still my sister (woah who could I possibly kin. Def not regulus black bc that would be sooo unpredictable🙄) sry that one wasn’t all that quick

- i’m a Sagittarius

-ummm i’m running out of ideas

-chocolate is literally the best food on earth

Ok so thats pretty much it. I went way more in depth abt myself than i planned so thats why i ended up doing this as an anon. Ik the whole point of this is to show myself bc thats how you’ll decide a character but like, being seen is scary. I’ll be checking in once in a while to see who i got matched with but feel completely free to not respond if you have a lot of asks.

Lots of love ❤️

Can you ask about this in my DMs? So sorry for the trouble but it would help me complete it better! Thanks for understanding!

[niuniente]

Hmm, wow, The Spirit is suddenly extremely active in delivering messages and arranging “coincidences”.

I met with a friend and our talking turned into spirituality and conspiracies. He said he couldn’t understand how someone who does for example reiki healing (and other love based services or hobbies) suddenly goes against it all by starting to hating and judging people because of believing in hate based conspiracies. How that’s even possible? I’m agreeing with him and thinking to myself “Wow! When we first met I told him I’m spiritual and gave a tiny try to see how he reacts, but he wasn’t interested. Now, here I am, speaking about these topics with him. Great!” (Overall, we had much fun. We always do when we meet. He’s one of the reasons why I’m underlining the friendship between Lou-Lou and Alrick as a normal thing to occur.)

Now, my other friend asked me how I was doing? I told her I’m concentrating on  my health now; a dentist, calculus removal, massage and physiotherapy. Lots of things but it’s for my own good!

Right after I told her I see this on my Youtube front page. I have not listened to healing music nor that channel, and there it still is:

(Let Go, Heal & Be At Peace With Life. 3.33.33)

3 is my number. It repeats also on my birthday (23.3). I’m like “Thanks! I know now that it’s OK to invest into myself”.

Then I go to check one of the Billy Idol posts I reblogged yesterday, as I do like to check tags also from reblogged posts at times. Billy Idol itself is a sign to me and I just saw him randomly on my dash yesterday (which has happened maybe 2 times before in the past 10+ years). The first tag in that post says #ian. I can’t believe my eyes as Ian is my spirit guide’s name! The one who is with me from birth to grave! I have gotten only once in my whole life a message related to Ian like this and that happened almost 15 years ago.

If IAN is here, in a BILLY IDOL post, right after  a post that says 3.33.33, that is a BIIIIG SIGN.

I’ve also started to see feathers which has been very rare for the longest time now. I just saw 3(!) today.

I’ve also been seeing spiders, last time today and it was a spider I have never seen before (black with white stripes. Don’t worry, we got no poisonous ones here). Usually they mean that I need to write but I’m also pondering if Ian is actually sending them to me as a sign from him. The last time I got a sign from Ian it did include spiders.

Something massive (positive) is coming into my life. Something really big. I’m curious to see what it is and in what form? My guess now is that these all are signs that my health will improve a lot and I don’t have to worry it reverting back to what it used to be.

SLAIFÖDKF I KID YOU NOT I WENT TO SEARCH A FITTING GIF HERE WITH A WORD “EXCITED” AND THERE WAS A SPIDER! Just when I thought it’s perhaps from Ian! You just got a live feed experience of how this works sldfjögsf. I guess I need to meditate and speak with Ian.