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ryuichirou · 6 months ago

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Replies

Some replies! Surprisingly, a lot of replies about boys sharing and not sharing boyfriends with each other + some longer old ones about fandom stuff.

Anonymous asked:

I LOVE CODE GEASS. GRWHSBDHURBFUHHDNUSJ

(related to this post)

IT’S VERY GOOD, ANON!! Unfortunately, I was in my potato phase art-wise back then, and this is like the worst title to fanart when you have a roundish potato-like goofy-looking (unintentionally) artstyle, so I can’t even look at my sketches from that time. But we’re definitely going to rewatch it again at some point, and then I’ll draw CC a lot…

Anonymous asked:

Just saw your reply the other day about RookVil (my other favourite ship) and this is exactly how I see it too. Two people who are private enough that only those in their circle really know them, and yet they've opened up to each other and found something special, there's real trust between them. I love them and I wish I had somewhere I could gush loudly about them (other than my long-suffering non-twst friends, my fandom friends aren't so keen so i stay quiet). I love your stuff, all of it, even the stuff I don't get because it's in a fandom I don't know. I'll shut up, but thank you for all the RookVil ❤️

(this is about this post)

Thank you so much for liking our stuff, Anon, I am so happy to hear that you enjoy it even if it’s unfamiliar fandom! I am also happy you feel that way about RookVil. I’ve said it multiple times already, but it wouldn’t hurt to say it again: they’re amazing together.

I hope you find someone to scream into all your love for them, but also feel free to send another ask when you feel like it. As long as I can add something, I’ll reply!

Anonymous asked:

I actually enjoy being in the mountains m, they’re peaceful. Jade, if you ruin that for me, I’m sacrificing you to the mountain gods and throwing you off the nearest cliff ૮( ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ )ა

Mountains are great, Anon! Jade would never dare to disrupt the peace… but also I am not entirely sure he would be opposed to being sacrificed to the mountain gods, to be honest lol

Anonymous asked:

Lilia, the only tickle he feels “down there” is the tickle of dread and terror.

(this is related to this comic)

Indeed… but it still tickles, right? >w< Isn’t it fun???

Anonymous asked:

Ok ok ok.

Now I've got ideas about Lilia and making plans to mess with Idia to get Ortho all riled up so Lilia can watch Idia get even more flustered.

Like, Lilia and Idia are playing games and Ortho's all jealous, so Lilia intentionally says stuff that'll both make Idia flustered and Ortho more jealous.

And then it eventually leads to Lilia getting to witness Ortho trying to get Idia's attention any way he can. (either by listening through headphones or he's actually in the same room)

Your art gives me so many ideas and I love it.

Very cheeky of Lilia to do it, but also of course he would be into seeing just how possessive Ortho can get with Idia. Ortho isn’t even supposed to eavesdrop on them or watch them play together, but Lilia would somehow always be aware of that from the moment he learns who he is playing with lol

I feel like Lilia likes making people jealous in general. Watching someone get angry and try to win someone over or get their attention is always super amusing, but with the Shrouds? With the added layer of Ortho being a needy younger brother that doesn’t want to share Idia with him? Amazing.

Anonymous asked:

I need to ask, do you guys ever think about 2 tops putting it in at the same time in someone?

Idia could take it? Right ? 👀

Idia could take much more than Idia himself thinks… he should believe in himself! <3 You go, Idia!

But to answer your question, yes absolutely we think about it, even though with some of the boys’ sizes it seems physically impossible… but nothing is impossible if you try hard enough!

Seriously though, Idia would be so shocked when he realises that both of them are currently inside: 50% panicked and 50% aroused.

I would love to put all of our bottoms through this fate, but the ones that are more likely to be able to handle it are Silver (wouldn’t hear a peep of complaining from him, just eagerness to please), Jamil (just as shocked and aroused as Idia) and Deuce (too horny and barely understanding what’s going on). Riddle would be so hot though with how tiny he is…

I always think about the tweels when we discuss this particular topic, but Lilia and Ortho are a surprisingly good team~ At times they might be even a better team than the Tweels because Floyd turns it into a competition sometimes.

Anonymous asked:

Don't remember if you had a similar ask to this, but how about twst boys that have multiple partners/ships where one gives advice on the best way to please their shared partner? Like, I can imagine floyd trying to get trey to squeeze riddle too because trust me, he likes a lot.

Good question, Anon! In theory, it could be something for Floyd to tell Trey (because Riddle likes it A LOT…), but I also feel like Floyd is surprisingly possessive when it comes to Riddle. Something has to click in a certain way in his brain to go that route; somehow sharing this information with Sea Turtle feels like a waste… if he didn’t figure out by now that this is how Goldfishie wants to be treated, well too bad!

The tweels would talk to each other though, and even though it isn’t necessarily giving each other advice, they would discuss sex in details sometimes, sharing experiences, so to speak.

I feel like those who are the most likely to give advice in this way are Lilia and Rook. But for some reason I always picture it as something unsolicited with these two lol

I think Lilia gives lots of advice to Sebek about both Silver and Malleus, and Sebek is always super flustered and surprised at first, but he still ends up applying everything… he had no idea his liege would enjoy having his horns bitten…

But Sebek isn’t the only one that gets to listen to Lilia’s advice. He hinted at some of Idia’s weak spots to Azul a couple of times, both to help out and to tease him. Azul always gets super jealous but tries to hide it behind smiling and thanking Lilia for looking out for his and Idia-san’s relationship.

Basically, no one is safe from Lilia’s sex advice. He is here to help out! And to watch everyone blush and panic lol

Rook sometimes gives advice about someone he doesn’t even sleep with, but he still has this information somehow. It actually caused some pretty bad misunderstandings in the past. He really should stop sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.

Anonymous asked:

Hey Ryu! It's been a while since I sent you an ask, I just wanted to drop by to tell you that your art is amazing and it gets better everyday! And also to praise you for being one of the very few people in the fandom to explore the twst characters dark side? Idk if it makes sense, but I keep seeing fandom puritans that are sadly spreading more around in the twst fandom portray them as these poor little helpless teens who do nothing wrong and it's hilarious because they're villains? A lot of them are morally grey, some of them borderline villainous (like the Leech twins imo) and they're also teenagers. When I saw your comic about Floyd squashing a fairy out of sheer fun and curiosity, I was all "yes, yes, this the kind of twst content I like!!". I'm not trying to say that fluff isn't allowed because I love me some good fluff of my OTPs, but I think we can enjoy "soft" twst content while acknowledging that these boys are the worst lmao. They're teens and also villains, of course they're gonna be cruel, of course they're gonna be manipulative, of course they're going to gangbang someone in revenge (ye I'm taking about that Fellow art, good shit! Tbh I could see them doing that or beating him to a pulp at the end of playful land). And also they're gonna explore their sexuality. I don't know why fandom nowadays is so hell-bent on saying "don't make art of teens fucking" when... Teens fuck, a lot lol, and villain teens? I think they go at it in any place of the school. (And they're fictional ffs, they don't even act as normal teens). Sometimes I wish Yana had full creative control so she'd give us some more dark content without The Rat™ holding her back, but you're doing god's (Yana's) work so keep going at it. I enjoy your art, and I enjoy that you feed us daily. I hope my ask made sense lol, have a good start of the week, both you and Katsu!

Anon! Sorry so much for the late reply, and thank you SO MUCH for saying that my art gets better and for all the praise in general! I am very happy you like our stuff, and especially that fairy comic! Sometimes I feel like I went to dark there but then I remember that it was literally inspired by one of Floyd’s voice lines lol

Everyone has their own preference, and I agree that fluff has a right to exist, and even we post some pretty fluffy stuff sometimes despite not liking it at all. But you are also right, there is such a lack of darker content, considering how dark the game is and how bad the boys are. Especially the tweels! Katsu and I love darker themes, and a lot of times we make the characters worse than they actually are and come up with some messed-up headcanons, and we do it for twst too, but I feel like the majority of things that we write and draw for twist are like… already in twst. It’s either hinted at or implied, or even straight-up said; and this is why we love it so much. They really are bad people, they really are villains, and some of them are legit monsters.

As for the teens having sex, yeah everyone has their own pace and no one should be rushed to do anything, but it’s silly to argue with the fact that teens do in fact experiment sexually, and it’s a natural thing to do. The absolute majority of us has been there in one way or another. And I find it funny when people forget about it, you know? That sometimes (a lot of times, more often than people think) fictional teens fucking is a reflection of one’s own experiences, thoughts, desires, fears and feelings from back then, combined with their favourite characters’ dynamic with each other, put in a hypothetical situation that has nothing to do with them or with real life whatsoever, and still has this vague and often subconscious emotional link. This isn’t always the case, but yeah that’s the whole point: it doesn’t matter. It’s fiction, therefore any idea can be explored.

Especially if we’re talking about an all-boys school filled with a bunch of angry horny delinquents that is NRC lol

Thank you once again for such a sweet message, and sorry for replying so late. We really appreciate everything you’ve said…

PS. Reading Yana’s censorship-free version of twst would be such a blast oh my god

Anonymous asked:

Hey ryuichi, have you ever noticed the difference between the EN Twst fandom and the JP Twst fandom? The EN Twst fandom is mostly 80% made out of Antis, unfortunately, so out of curiosity, i decided to see what the JP Twst fandom is up too (Mainly one Twitter, privatter and poipiku) and it's so peaceful over there?! Everyone is so supportive and friendly. No one is calling out anything "problematic" in my experience, which makes me think most of them know the difference between reality and fiction.

That being said, I feel so bad for them and the way they were treated. So many talented people have been harassed and bullied out of the fandoms. It’s disgusting to see. (Like in general, not necessarily Twst related). I'm against all morality policing. It's so frustrating to see a lot of Japanese artists on Twitter being harassed for the way they depict characters (skin colour, bust size, body shape). I've also seen a lot of antis trying to justify racism against asians because "Japan's a nation of pedos anyway." Because nothing beats imagined racism like actual hardcore racism.

The best part? Japanese fandom is learning about the anti/proshipping discourse! Basically, they've started to call antis "American Yakuza feelings," which is so fitting if you ask me, lol. And I notice that anti's are removing "proship dni" rapidly because the Japanese fandoms blocking them. Imagine giving up your "highly moral value" for some Japanese fanart. I mean, in the end, they got what they wanted "Proship DNI" and didn't expect the Japanese fandoms to have more common sense and media literacy than any other EN fandom out there.

Anyway, I love your art, mwah 💋

Hi Anon!

Yeah, the difference between JP and EN fandoms has always been surprising. You might have seen the post with the list of our fandoms throughout the years, and I was thinking whether I should note that by “fandoms” we just mean “titles we are into” and not being a part of any actual group of people… I didn’t end up writing it, but the point is, we were barely a part of any actual fandom all these years exactly because of this social climate. Just posting things from time to time without participating anywhere and talking to someone else felt much more comfortable. Twst (+ shingeki a couple of years ago) is the closest thing we’ve ever had to being a part of a fandom, and it’s solely because there are so many chill people there who are willing to have fun and indulge in weird ideas. People who are here for the characters and their interactions, you know?

I am sure that JP fandom has its own issues, and I would actually really love to learn more about it, but one thing we can all say for certain is that they really respect boundaries. The “live and let live” culture is very important in fandoms, and I wish EN fandoms would have it too. The only thing one really needs is to warn about posting possibly upsetting things and have disclaimers for those who don’t want to see this type of content, and after that the artist isn’t really responsible if someone clicked on it/scrolled the page despite the warnings and got upset. I like it a lot. I am super grateful and happy to be able to communicate with JP artists even if it’s just through mutual likes and occasional comments, and I am super grateful and happy that the EN people we have around us are supportive and don’t tolerate any bullshit.

It really is heartbreaking when an artist is being harassed. No one should be harassed, but when someone who doesn’t talk English is getting ambushed or shittalked by the antis that just have nothing better to do, it’s super shitty.

Actually, I won’t mince my words on this particular topic: people should stop harassing creators and treating them as jesters to throw tomatoes at. It’s pathetic when people shit on an artist for shipping Vil and Neige, it’s disgusting when people mistranslate manga and spread rumors that cause creators to feel helpless because they can’t address this shit, it’s sickening when people shit on Yana for taking a break and drawing shorter chapters. This isn’t exactly the theme of the post, but as I was thinking about it, I got angry again lol Such ungrateful fucks.

Anyways! I agree that it is hilarious that JP artist block “proship dni” people on sight now, the only bad thing about it is that it’s more difficult to find these people now that they’re removing this phrase from their bio. And I thought it was their badge of honor, how come how come…

eh-nonnie-mouse asked:

Sorry, this ask is a bit unhinged with how much stuff I tried to cram into it. I wanted to get this off my chest and feel free not to respond to this, since your response seemed pretty chill. I got a little annoyed at how I have seen a couple people asking for more 'content' in the past month and it has been bugging me. But I have also been wanting to comment on your cute Sebek art and bully him.

To the anons who ask tersely for more 'content' without helping create a dialogue to work from,

I don't think you meant it that way, or I hope you didn't mean for it to sound like a demand. Head cannons and art take time to think up. It's not just something that is generated (and yes I am using this word on purpose) out of nothing. Creativity is fueled by a give and take between fans and Ryu and Katsu's enjoyment of a fandom. If you want more of something, try reaching out with a comment or start a discussion on something you liked about the character. They are both people and not machines pushing out stuff for you to consume. Especially since they are sharing their hard work for free.(discounting Ko-Fi, but tip your artist anyway. They all deserve it for their work.)

Now I would like to gush about Sebek and his cute little blush and lipstick mark from a certain fae. (and maybe about the new Fellow and Gidel art.)

Sebek baby!!! He looks so blissed out I bet he came in his pants a little (please just a little as a treat💦). Mal Mal so mean to him. I love the poses and how you can only see Malleus's arm and how Sebek is leaning into the touch for more. The expression of pure want. OMG, what if Malleus kissed him as a consolation for not sitting in his lap and now Sebek can't move cause he's got a raging boner. (OR HE DOES AND EVERY ONE IGNORES HIM BECAUSE WHO DOESN'T KNOW HIS REFERENT LOVE FOR LORD MALLEUS 🤣)

I only plan on NA server and have seen some spoilers for the Playful Land Event, but Fellow looks so conniving and shady lol. Gidel looks so cute trying to concentrate on what to write. Does he do the tongue sticking out thing when hes thinking really hard and does he know how to write or is it just indecipherable scribbles that Fellow just nods and goes "Yep, those be words, totally."

Also totally unrelated to either of those pics, who is the anon who posted about Silver sleeping around and calling people Daddy. I just wanna talk, about how hilarious the whole thing would be. Please, I don't bite. Just a little feral about freaky stuff. (And gods you two had an AMAZING response. I don't feel like I could add more but thots go brrrrr.)

SORRY FOR REPLYING SO LATE AAAHHH YOU ARE SO KIND THANK YOU SO MUCH!

It does bother us when people ask for more content or for some specific content, but I always try to assume that it’s just the phrasing issue… which doesn’t necessarily make things better considering that we post like 5 things per day if we’re counting all of our accounts lol We also always try not to post the same characters all the time, Katsu especially makes effort to ensure that our posting is still fun and fresh for both people following us and us too. My replies usually sound nicer than they probably should because sometimes in this way I can address other people in case they’ve been wondering about the same thing or at least to explain things to them. That + a firm belief that people really don’t mean to sound rude, although from time to time both Katsu and I snap in our replies lol poor anons...

So I really appreciate you supporting us! You are absolutely right: enjoyment is the main thing that keeps us posting, not any obligation. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: we would have stopped posting twst after like 1 week of posting if we didn’t get support; we never anticipated that it would become such a huge thing for us. Let’s enjoy it as much and as long as we can without making it feel like a job.

I am so happy you liked that Sebek sketch!! <3 He really did come in his pants a little from that smooch lol Malleus is a tease and he knows it. If this is consolation for not sitting in his lap… damn that Sebek boy is lucky :”( lol poor people at Noble Bell looking at this lost and smitten horny boy.

You also absolutely nailed the dynamic on that Gidel+Fellow sketch lol this is exactly what it is. I hope you enjoy these two when you finally get to play this event!

#replies

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kanralovesu · 2 years ago

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One of the Greatest "Non Battle Battle Manga" Fights of all Time

Cipher Academy is an insane current Jump manga about a school for genius code breakers and it just had its most insane "battle" yet. Here's what went down:

Our hero is after the title of Class Leading Private, a cross between class president and the general of an army, who is stated to have the lives of the class in their hands. This is the final test and it starts with a simple vote, but of course there's a catch. The 4 candidates then take their votes as Poker chips which they will be using in a game of Blind Man's Bluff (you can only see your opponent's hands and not your own)

But even that would be too tame for this series! No, instead every single card in the deck has been encrypted so you have to decode people's hands before you can even think about betting!

Oh and that's not all, one of the 4 candidates is also "Anonymity Requested-san" who has an in-universe explained black bar obscuring their face, making them the ultimate "poker face".

Much like every code in Cipher Academy, this isn't just some made up code, it's actually solvable! Now unfortunately as an English speaker it's basically impossible to understand the tricky ways it uses the Japanese language, but I still appreciate the ingenuity of this manga to no end.

Spoiler Alert

So how does our hero decipher the code? Well in a clever thematic twist they do so by reading the expressions of their audience of classmates, not their opponent. This ties into the fact that the Class Leading Private needs to be someone who understands the needs and concerns of their classmates, but it goes even deeper than that.

Every single card in the deck was a code created by a classmate! Thus even if the onlookers didn't bother deciphering the deck's codes, each of them knew exactly 4 cards: the 4 different suits they made for their assigned number.

This is not even to mention the other 3 or so small but incredible subplots this battle ties up, including how our hero overcomes trauma he had from losing a different code battle (insane I know), and how he tackles the cheating of Anonymity Requested-san in previous duels.

Definitely give Cipher Academy a go if you haven't already! I didn't even get into the other great things about the series like how it sometimes censors things the characters say about the world because that information is "classified"

Oh, and I can't end this post without sharing this amazing use of the medium of manga to convey information. These 2 pages revealed the answers to the ciphers before each was explained. Now as I was reading this on my phone, I didn't understand why the cards were flipped horizontally, but then it hit me: with each image printed on the side of a physical page, it creates a front and a back to a decoding table! Absolute genius!

#manga #cipher academy #cipher #academy #fight #shonen #battle #non battle battle manga #battle manga #fight analysis #fight design #analysis #manga analysis #writing analysis

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magical-girl-rose · 2 years ago

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Do you ever look at your calendar and see that February 22nd the day after Mardi Gras is marked as Ash Wednesday, I already did. Countless times to be honest.

If you're eager for the start of Lent then good for you or if not then that is okay as well just make sure to take care of yourself.

If you're in the religiously abused category and see Lent and the whole idea of fasting, giving alms, praying and giving something up for 40 days as a big trigger like I do then let me be the one to help (if that is okay with you)

If you're ex Catholic and no longer identify or associate yourself with Christianity like I am especially after making my faith renunciation loud and clear but are still stuck in a strict religious environment where the family is still stuck in a stage of denial that their child young or grown is no longer in the faith and attempting to reconvert and "bring back to the flock" unaware that their futile attempts will only push the child away instead genuinely accepting things as they are then you came to the right post.

This time of the year can be difficult for all of us and some of us don't have the capability to fast or abstain for 40 days since we need food and drinks to keep up our strength in the physical and mental sense especially in the physical side due to health conditions that make it impossible to do so and Christianity does not see that unfortunately and some don't even have the right to make the choice of not doing Lent at all.

Very unfair if you ask me. So very unfair. I devised a list for Anti-lent to use and feel free to reblog and add your own to the list

Instead of giving something up why not indulge in it. It could be food, a new drink you wanna try but the church says "No way, you're practicing abstinence whether you like it or not!" screw that and do the opposite.

Pick up a new skill. It could be writing, reading that is not biblical scripture, trying a new cooking recipe in the kitchen(please be careful if you do so. No one likes coming home to a kitchen set on fire.)

Question Church teaching and the rules. This may seem like a very hard one and heavily discouraged in Catholicism. I've done a lot of questioning as a child and there were a lot of rules that never sat well with me at all. Blind faith and blind obedience is not a good look on anyone

On Fridays, instead of not eating meat or going to a fish fry, eat meat anyways you need the protein(unless you're vegetarian or a vegan there are other means of getting protien). Treat yourself to hamburger, steak, any meat will do. The same applies for Good Friday instead of one meal have your 3 square meals of the day.

Practice self-care. This one, is a super important one! If some priest in his sermon says to give self-care for lent don't listen and do the opposite instead. Cut your hair, go for a mani-pedi, try a new fragrance, take an extra long bath or shower, meditate, do what makes you happy this goes with the indulgence portion.

Instead of giving alms, use that tithing money on yourself or donate to a more worthy cause because the church does not deserve even a single cent from either of us no matter how much they try to guilt you into dropping your hard earned money in the offering basket. If you have a paycheck splurge some but save a portion for whenever that urge to splurge comes up leave some as a "Don't touch until next payday or future adventure travel fund".

Set boundaries. If folks ask why you aren't giving anything up for Lent, don't answer because you don't owe anyone an answer as to why. That applies to families no matter how hard some don't believe in the concept of boundaries.

Take care of your mental health. As someone who was emotionally and mentally abused by the Catholic Church, this felt like something I should've done a long time ago. Find a good therapist or psychiatrist especially one that specialize in treating folks with religious trauma. I've been seeing a therapist and I'm still in the recovery process since I got mental and emotional scars that won't heal right.

If you're pagan like I am. Look into Easter's origins before Christians came and ruin everything like they always have for milenia. Self-reflect on Ostara and the arrival of spring means to you meditate on that.

You're free to reblog and add more to the list and you can hashtag it as well in your reblogs so be sure to enjoy Mardi Gras, dance, eat, drink(responsibly), catch some beads and maybe engage in as much debauchery possible just don't let the debauchery doesn't land you in jail.

Hey guys, love you guys ❤

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adorerdraco · 4 years ago

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I’m Here ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: Hi, so I’m not sure if you’re taking these kinds of fics for Draco, but I’ve been feeling really down lately, and I was wondering if you could write a one shot or a scenario where the reader has been having a really bad day/week and Draco comforts them? And maybe Draco lays the reader on his chest and he hums a small tune to make the reader feel better? You can ignore this if it’s an issue, but I’d really appreciate it. I love all of your fics btw! They make me really happy <3

Warnings: none bc mostly fluff, some tears, super soft!draco

Words: 1.9K

A/N: i saw this and had to do it effective immediately bc i am feeling the exact same wayyy so this was really nice to think about ;( thank you so much for requesting this and for reading my stuff and i’m so glad i can help in a way <3 i’m sending you nothing but peace, love, and light !!! but i really hope this is gooood <3 do not own gif

Life was punishing you, you thought. It had to be. Because there was no way how in the span of a week everything in your day-to-day life had gone from okay to borderline catastrophic. It was as if every situation you were in was taking its form in the worst case possible scenario and all you could do was watch hopelessly as things continuously got worse sprinkled with small misfortunes in between.

It started on a regular Monday morning, sitting down for breakfast in the Great Hall with blissful ignorance. Halfway through eating your toast, your owl had come in through the open large glass windows and dropped a letter onto your plate from home that left you some very unfortunate news and had set forth a ripple effect that began making everything else go downhill as your days progressed. By the end of the school week, you had managed to blow up a potion, lose house points because of said potion when it splashed onto some people and had some physically altering effects, tripped over your footing and fell in the middle of a crowded corridor, failed a surprise quiz, forgot to turn in an essay, got into an argument with a friend, accidentally slept in and missed a morning class, and took a trip to the hospital wing for a migraine that didn’t want to leave you alone. You could’ve sworn you had somehow been thrown into purgatory, or limbo, or something outer-worldly.

“Are you alright?” Draco had asked you right after breakfast that Monday morning as he was walking you to your first class. “What was in the letter your owl gave you? You look worried.”

“It was nothing,” you dismissed quickly, trying to put on a half-hearted smile while you spoke to make it more convincing. “I’m fine, just tired.”

It was the beginning of the week, and he did keep you up late the night before when you were sneaking around together, so he just shook his head up and down and took your excuse even though he felt like there was more to it than you were letting on. But as the days went on, he was becoming more observant of the way you were acting and even looking. He didn’t like that every morning he saw the shadows under your eyes get deeper and darker, and he didn’t like how you would close your eyes in pain when you would groan about your headache. He also didn’t like the way he hadn’t seen you truly smile or laugh all week even when he tried countless times to amuse you or cheer you up. But what he didn’t like most of all was that he felt like there was nothing he could do.

On Wednesday afternoon, he tried asking you again. You were sitting in the Quad with him on a bench and he was telling you a story from earlier in the day about how he had ‘accidentally’ tripped this Gryffindor boy and got Snape to take away house points from him that he thought for sure would you make laugh or perhaps give him a disapproving redirection, but when he glanced up to see your reaction, he noticed you weren’t even listening, to begin with. You had been staring down at your shoes and the way they lined up against the cracks in the pavement, kicking around some gravel as your mind was running a million thoughts per second.

“Love?” He said to you softly. You looked up at him swiftly with a quiet questioning hum, e/c eyes widened slightly from being ripped away from your thoughts suddenly. “You know if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

“I know,” you nodded warmly. “I’m okay, Dray. I’m honestly just tired.”

And you were telling the truth, in a sense. You really were tired; physically, mentally, emotionally.

He frowned, dissatisfied with your answer. “Right, well if anything at all comes up, I’m here.”

From then on, Draco took it upon himself to try and increase his affections and compliments. He would hug you a little tighter, kiss you a little longer, whisper sweet little nothings into your ear before he left you for class. You felt a little bad lying to him, withholding the truth from him, and you saw the concern in his light gray’s when you’d meet him in the mornings and for the rest of the day, but it only made you feel a tad bit worse. You were starting to feel guilty for the way he was worrying, feeling like you were dragging him down into the dumps with you and raining on his usual carefree parades.

On Friday morning, you didn’t meet him for breakfast and you were out of the Great Hall faster than he could catch you. He felt like a stalker when he walked by your class, peeking his head in to see if you were there and well. He spotted you sitting at your desk, hunched over your unopened books with a grimace on your face and your head in your hands. He wanted to go in and whisk you away to somewhere far and quiet, but the Professor had caught him by the door and sent him on his way before he could even think of doing anything of the sort.

You felt the day had gone by extremely slow, relative to how the week was moving and also impossibly dismal. You were counting down the minutes until the end of the school day, ready to run to your dorm right after your last class and bury yourself deep into your duvet and pillows for the rest of the weekend.

Head still pounding, you trudged over to your final class, stopping outside the doors when you saw a small group of your housemates standing around with unnerved expressions as they passed each other papers and spoke in hushed tensed tones.

“I studied all night but my friend took the test earlier and she told me during lunch that it had stuff on it that wasn’t even in the reading!” You heard one exclaim in distress.

“We have a test?” You accidentally said aloud and a pair of eyes turned to look at you confusingly.

“Yeah? Professor’s been telling us all week.”

A scoff of disbelief escaped your lips, an overwhelming sense of defeat washing over you as you turned briskly on your heel and in the opposite direction of your classroom. Tears started pricking at your eyes, you felt the stinging of them wanting to be released but you refused to let them all out in the open and especially in front of people who were still taking their time to head to their classes.

You were making a beeline towards your common room, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision that was quickly pooling with unshed tears while trying to steady your breathing in another failed attempt to calm yourself. You were nearly there, you could tell by the paintings and doors that you passed by and the black stain splattered on the floor you saw every day on your way to the dorms from someone’s dropped ink bottle that Filch hasn’t been able to get rid of.

Almost there, you kept repeatedly reminding yourself.

All hope of solace was gone when you didn’t notice the body you had unknowingly crashed into. All you felt were strong hands around your biceps, holding you in place from toppling backward and the very familiar scent of expensive cologne and mint.

“Y/N? Why aren’t you in class?” You looked up at the platinum blond sadly, his worried eyes searching yours with such care that it pushed you over the edge.

You didn’t answer him and instead wrapped your arms tightly around Draco’s middle, burying your face deep into his robes and letting out quiet and frail weeps that broke his heart. He held you tightly, pressing kisses to the top of your head and muttering soft “I’m here’s” into your hair. You stayed in his embrace for a few minutes, letting your tears freely fall into his vest with a sense of relief that only he was able to give you at this point in time.

“I’m sorry I cried on you,” you choked out when you pulled away from him, desperately wiping away at your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for that,” he said quickly. He brought his hand up to your face, his thumb swiping delicately over a stray tear that was sitting on your jaw while you closed your eyes in comfort. “Do you want to go back to my room? I can set you up really nicely and we can talk if you’d like?”

“Yes please, I’d like that a lot.”

Draco interlocked your fingers with his, bringing the pair up to his lips with a warm kiss on the back of your hand before walking the two of you over to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. It was empty when you walked in, not a soul in sight since everyone was still in class and it made it much easier for him to sneak you into his singular Prefect room you were now extremely grateful he had. He watched contently when you shed off your robes and kicked off your shoes and immediately slipped into one of his dark green jumpers that fit you big.

You were perched on the edge of his bed, his scent from his sweater engulfing you and doing a much better job of calming you down than you wanted to admit. He followed in your footsteps and changed into something comfier and when he finally sat beside you with his hand falling over yours as an encouragement to talk - you did. You vented to him all about the letter from home, the migraine, your classes, the argument between you and your friend, and everything else that came to mind.

“And I feel bad for ignoring you and not telling you all this before but I didn’t want to burden you,” you finished with sniffles, gazing up at him with a gloomy expression.

“Y/N, I love you, and nothing you say to me is a burden,” he frowned slightly, “when I tell you I’m here, I mean it, for anything. You’re so important to me and it kills me to see you upset.”

In a careful movement, he had scooted towards you and affectionately cupped your face before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and murmured to you, “don’t ever hesitate to come to me.”

You let him pull you under his covers, draping his large duvet over your entangled bodies with your head resting right above his chest, the steady beatings of his heart instantly sending you into a much-needed peace. His chin was rested right atop your head and you felt his fingers run up and down your arm soothingly while he thought.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” He asked quietly.

“Can you help me fall asleep?” you muttered, closing your eyes gently when his hand smoothed over the back of your hair. You felt him nod against your head and after a small moment silence, you heard him begin to hum the faint tune of your favorite song.

You lied there in bliss, enjoying the way his chest was vibrating against your ear and the way his fingers were playing with the ends of your hair, curling the strands around his fingers and then moving upwards to massage your scalp. And for a minute, everything was finally okay again as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, a full heart and with your love calmly lulling you away with a soft and now distant humming.

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neoheros · 5 years ago

Text

sneaking out headcanons feat. gym 3 squad ♡ — also this is all gonna be set in an au before or without the quarantine, so don’t leave your house please!! social distancing is important and people are dying!!

kuroo tetsuro

listen LISTEN

sneaking out is terrible and you should never do it because it’s dangerous and risky

and you as the woke and understanding gen z that you are definitely respected that

but , BUT , BUUUUT !

the minute your boyfriend snapped you a photo of him in his car with him rubbing his tired eyes captioned “couldn’t sleep, dreamt of u”

your morals were OUT THE WINDOW and now it was your turn >:// !!!

kuroo: i know it’s 4 am but what’re the chances you’d hop out for a quick trip to chick-fil-a 👉👈

you, purposely taking two minutes to reply: why are you still awake

kuroo, who knows you like the back of his hand: babe don’t lie to me, it’s embarrassing for the both of us x

so you agree !! because it was kuroo, the love of your life, the man you’d simp for, and he’s paying for food so hell fricken yeah

you throw on a hoodie, lock your doors, fluff up the bed to make it look like someone was sleeping in it just in case and you gently make your way towards your window

due to personal reasons, you want to pass away

you suddenly remember why you hated sneaking out and boy — the food kuroo was buying you better be worth it

the only way you were actually gonna get down from your two story house that idiotically doesn’t have a roof ledge was if you grab onto the tv satellite that latched by the sill

from your window you see kuroo’s car parked by the trash cans near your house and he’s got his windshield down signaling at you

mfer pulled out his phone from his pocket and waved as he zooms closer to your figure and he SMILED ?

you were in a dilemma?? and he had the audacity???? the fricken audacity???

kuroo, snapping you the vid he took: babe please you’re so cute you look like a tiny gremlin

you: had me in the first half, not gonna lie

it was a MOMENT for you !! but you just say what the hell and go for it anyways because you only live once apparently and sneaking out with your boyfriend at 4 am was better than sleeping

you grab onto the satellite ridge and you pray for mercy that it doesn’t make a sound or loosen up because if anyone found out you were doing this it was definitely kuroo’s ass on the line

while you’re struggling to get down, kuroo’s just in the car ??? laughing his ass off at your current state and you swear that he’s still taking photos

you get down on the cement safely and instead of him pulling up closer to your drive way naaaah he makes you walk to where he was at 😤

you, getting in the car: if i dump you by the end of tonight, just know that the only reason why i didn’t do it sooner is because i wanted food

kuroo, putting on your seatbelt: we’ll get back together in the morning, i’m not worried

so the two of you make your way to chick-fil-a, get food via drivethru and eat in the parking lot with the doors open and the windows down

he still looks very tired and before you even realize it it’s already 6 in the morning

you catch him yawn every few minutes and he always reassures you that he didn’t mind staying up this late :(

he’s baby

kuroo: lets get you home, are you gonna dump me yet?

you, kissing his cheek: no, i kinda love you

kuroo, less sleepy with a lazy smile on his face: aha simp

tsukishima kei

bro if you think he’s a goody two shoes boy who won’t ask you to sneak out at like 2 in the morning , you are so wrong

canonically, he is the most devious and logical character in the entire anime and if he wants to go out with you before the crack of dawn — he fricken will !!

he’s gonna be so sly about it too, nah, he gon make you think it’s your idea to sneak out

tsukki, texting you a tiktok of homemade shrimp rotini at 2:35 am: look what yamaguchi sent me

yamaguchi, who fell asleep three hours ago and absolutely is not in any state to send tiktoks:

so you’re there like ??????

bruv you were just tryna scroll through your twitter feed in peace, why the hell would he send you that like that’s so uncool

because now you were sleep deprived and hungry

you, close to tears: does your house in hell have a pool or

tsukishima, unnerved: i don’t like the concept of swimming

he’s gonna go on about how he didn’t realize what he did and how he’s kinda sorry for waking your hunger but you weren’t born yesterday !! you smelled BS !!

so you facetime him, ready to go off on how unsorry he is and you can already imagine the shit eating grin he must’ve had on

he answers after three rings and he’s in a MFING yellow hoodie with the dinosaur print in the middle, his hair neatly tucked and you just know that he’s got his keys on his fingertips

you, defeated: i’ve been played

tsukishima, heading out the front door: i deny all accusations

you’re not even upset though because this was a perfect opportunity to try the stability of your roof ledge and tbh? who wasn’t unreasonably hungry at 3 am

turns out climbing out your window was harder than you thought and you may or may not have gotten two new bruises on your wrist just by trying

safe to assume that you fell on your ass and since the universe has a particular hatred towards you, your boyfriend arrived at the perfect time to witness all of it

tsukishima: how are you gonna kiss me when you’re too busy kissing the ground

you, tears on your cheeks: if i wanted a bully instead of a boyfriend i would’ve SAID SO

when you get in his car, the first thing he does is ask if you’re okay though and he’s checking your wrists and hands for any scratches or bleeding because 🥺

tsukki: you’re such a clumsy idiot what the hell

tsukki, kicking down the pavement when you’re not paying attention: 💢🪓

you guys end up going to numerous places because most of the drivethrus in town were already closed

you see him get tired behind the steering wheel and you almost have the urge to offer to drive but you didn’t really feel like crashing his car any day soon so

you: lets just head to starbucks hm? get some coffee?

tsukishima, feeling bad because he knows you wanted to get food: we don’t have to

you, in love with him: if you say no i will willingly walk all the way to starbucks by myself , what , you think i won’t do it

so you guys go there and order a couple double shot espressos with a side of scones and muffins and the entire time you’re just trying not to shiver because name one starbucks you’ve been to that hasn’t been unreasonably cold huh i dare you

he notices this and he gives you his hoodie and ITS JUST THE SOFTEST THING OKAY BECAUSE HE’S COLD TOO BUT HE JUST WANTS YOU WARM

you: i knew it, you love me too huh 😌

tsukishima: unfortunately so

akaashi keiji

AKAASHI IS LEGALLY THE BEST BOYFRIEND IN THE WORLD !!

like he cannot be a bad boyfriend ?? it’s impossible for him to be so ?????? he’s just built that way ????

he’s the ultimate mixture of respect and self love , god was just like “let’s make this one perfect !!”

he’s DRIPPING in love each other juice and he eats kindness for breakfast so ha !

he physically cannot say no to you because he flat out adores you

( except when he feels like you’re wrong or being irrational to which he’ll politely correct you and educate you because that’s on what? that’s on having a healthy relationship ♡ )

so when you hit him up at 5:23 in the morning after a series of tiktoks that he has yet to see and react to you about, he’s kinda alarmed

but then again he’s also not ?? because let’s face it, at this point, he’s used to you spamming his inbox

the last thing you sent him two minutes ago was a text saying “bro just imagine this: you and me at a maccas drivethru with two oreo flurry’s and a box of 20 piece chicken nuggets — immaculate”

and you didn’t really expect him to reply?

it was five am and you were absolutely shit talking but when you saw his face time status go online you were just like ?????

akaashi, snapping you a pic of him under his covers with very tired eyes: it’s 5:27 am

you, sending him back a photo of you and the 2000 piece puzzle you spent the last two hours doing: that’s not a no 💅

he doesn’t reply and you’re not really upset by it because he probably just fell asleep and that was really cute to you so !!

but then two minutes later he’s facetiming you and you JUMP at the sudden ringing

he’s all tired and his voice is groggy and tight but he’s still smiling as he says “i’ll see you in ten”

YOU ARE !!!! PUMPED !!!!!

you won the boyfriend lottery , holy hell

now the only thing keeping you from seeing your man and the mcdonald’s sign was the eleven foot gap between your window and the solid concrete

you’d usually take the stairs but you just know that your mom would absolutely murder you for trying to sneak out when you should be asleep 💆‍♀️

it was either climbing out by clawing through the pipes or not being able to give akaashi a hug and you were not gonna let that second one happen

akaashi, after reading your two paragraph rant on how unnatural it was for your window to be that high: please be careful

you, haven’t slept in 32 hours: screw careful ! i embody elegance !!

in which elegance was screaming every time your pipes squeaked because dear mercy you did not want to die yet

akaashi, who just pulled up your drive way and is now seeing you almost fall to the ground:

you, on the verge of tears: please catch me

AND he does 🥺

it was a close call and he barely even made it to you when you chose to let go but HE DID ANYWAYS

you kinda fell on him rather than landing smoothly in his arms but that’s okay you were just glad you didn’t die

when you both get in his car, he just takes a hot sec to dust you off and ask if you’re okay and he’s so concerned please tell him you’re fine

he’s such a baby please i can’t believe this shit

the two of you end up in a mcdonald’s parking lot with doja cat blaring on the radio and you guys do your best to hold back your laughter as you eat

it was pretty cold and the sun was rising but honestly you couldn’t find the urge to care since the moment just felt so surreal

you: i’m sorry for waking you btw 🥺

akaashi, showing you his new lock screen which is the picture he took of you when he first saw you climb out the window:

you: i’m less sorry

bokuto koutaro

BOYFRIEND OF THE MFING YEAR

i accept no arguments, go cry about it

i literally don’t care what anyone has to say, bokuto is the only man ever ? he’s so deserving of every right on earth i’ll cry

the way that this is the third night in a row he’s stayed up til 4 am and he’s not even alarmed about it

like at this point he’s just accepted that he is nocturnal and that’s that on that !

before he actually had the idea to ask you to sneak out for him, he debated whether or not it was worth it

you needed sleep and you barely got any so when he knew you were resting he absolutely refused to message you :(

but then he also thought about how you would love to have a large dunkin iced coffee right now

and he was already getting ready for his morning fix so why not just ask harmlessly?

if you weren’t going to respond then he’d be okay with that because he knew that you were resting well

but if you were going to answer his consecutive texts with a positive reply then HE IS 🥺 over the moon

you, barely awake: can we get a venti triple shot latté instead , my caffeine tolerance is SHOT

bokuto, snapping you back within a minute: babe you are delusional if you think i’m gonna let you drink that

so it’s 5 am and your parents are in the other room asleep but you know that their jobs start pretty early so you had to get a move on

your room wasn’t that high from the ground to be honest, so you weren’t really worried about falling off

what you were worried about was how dizzy and out of depth the melatonin gummies made you because in order to fall asleep you took 3 and now that you basically forced yourself out of a self induced coma, your body was on the verge of passing away

bokuto tells you that he doesn’t mind if you’re not up for the trip and he’d just bring you back your coffee BUT NAH

you’re not a quitter 🤬 you miss your boyfriend and you are gonna do whatever it takes to spend some quality morning time with him !!!!!

so you throw on a proper outfit, make your way through your window and gently do your best to refrain from yelping every time your hand would slip from the railing that’s keeping your balance

bokuto, pulling up seeing you on your roof: you’re so strong 🥺👉👈

you, barely alive: all for you baby ❤️

he helps you get down from where you stood and he had the prettiest smile on earth i SWEAR when you immediately sank in his cold chest

he apologizes for making you sneak out like that BUT NUH UH YOU DO NOT LET HIM

he is a gift !!! and you knew how tired he must’ve been too since he kept yawning but he still took the time and energy to pick you up 🥺

he fastens your seatbelt in the car and puts the windows up because he knew that the air would get in your face and you didn’t like that

he even brought you a spare hoodie of his because he remembered how much you swooned over this particular fabric

bokuto: we’ll get you some coffee but you can sleep while i drive, ok babe?

you, trying not to cry: are you single because i really want to kiss you

bokuto, kissing your cheek: i’m dating someone i’m sorry

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christ0pher-evans · 4 years ago

Text

Variety’s Actors on Actors

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Warnings: Slight Angst / Implied Smut Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This is my first time writing a Chris Evans fanfiction. It it loosely based off of Variety’s Actors on Actors interviews with Chris Evans and Paul Rudd / Chris Evans and Scarlett Johansson. It is pure fluff, hope you guys like it!!! Please reblog and like🖤

♡

When Variety had approached you to be involved in the ‘Actors on Actors’ style interviews, you knew that it could be really fun, a great opportunity and you felt immediate excitement for who they might pair you with.

It was only a day later when they had told you that they wanted you to do the interview with Chris Evans. Normally, any time that you got to spend with Chris, physically or virtually, was fun; however you had no idea how you could possibly interview the man when you knew all there was to know about his life and career, I mean you’d only know him 16 years, and been together for the past 6 years, leading to your past first year of blissful marriage.

You had spent the last month away from Chris due to the filming of your latest movie, and was missing him so much that your heart hurt. The thought of getting to spend a full 45 minutes doing this interview with him was making you jump for joy, because usually neither of you have enough free time simultaneously to be able to spend this length of time together. It’s often a fleeting text of “I miss you”, or a 5 minute phone call between scenes.

You had spent the past week since finding out about this interview trying to come up with interesting enough questions that the fans would want answers to. You were also thankful for Variety as they had sent you a pre-made list of questions in case you got stuck.

It was finally an hour before the interview, and you hadn’t seen Chris’ face for the past two weeks so you decided to make a bit of extra effort to look nice for him.

You were sat in front of your dressing table in your apartment that had be rented out for you whilst you were filming. Make-up was spread all over the table and you could see the reflection, several outfits littered all over your bed where you had yet to make your mind up on what to wear.

45 minutes later and you had a light brown and glittery smokey eye, a subtle winged liner with a gloss over your lips and had given yourself a bouncy blow-dry. After looking through all your outfits, you had decided on one of Chris’ oversized jumpers that you stole before you left and some jeans - even though you wanted to look really nice for him, you knew how much he would appreciate seeing you in his clothes more.

You had made yourself a coffee and set yourself up at the breakfast bar for the interview. Checking everything was set up and ready for the interview, you waited patiently with butterflies in your stomach for it to start. You were bought out of your excited daze by the noise of your phone, a message from Chris popped up.. ‘Can’t wait to see your beautiful face’ Boy, did he still make you swoon after so long together.

Not long had passed before the sound of a video call was coming through on your laptop, and as you answered, a member of the Variety team was on your screen. “Hi Y/N, it’s so lovely to speak to you and thank you so much for partaking in this interview. In a couple of minutes, we will connect you straight through to Chris and you can just start chatting and asking your questions. We will record everything from our end and then edit it together to be posted online.” “That all sounds perfect to me. Thank you so much for having me and letting me do this with my husband.” You couldn’t help but grin, it never got old getting to call Chris your husband. You absentmindedly twirled your engagement and wedding rings round your finger. “Okay, we will connect you now. Have fun!”

And then there he was, bright eyed and grinning at you through the screen.

“Hi Sweetheart.” His voice made your heart flutter and your stomach do flips. "Hi Chris, how are you?” you reply sweetly.

You made some small talk for the sake of the interview, before starting to ask each other questions. “So I have a confession to make..” you paused briefly, “I could not think of any questions to ask you that I didn’t already know the answer to, so I thought I would ask questions that I think fans would want to know the answer to.”

You grin, proud of yourself and proud of the big laugh you got out of Chris because you had come up with such a good idea. “My first question is when you first got into acting, how did you navigate the work/life balance?”

Chris took a swig of beer, pondering his answer before starting. “Well when I actually booked my first bigger film that had a busy schedule, was on the film we worked on together, so previous to that I didn’t have much of a social life” he chuckled, “But when you’re filming for maybe 12 hours a day, 6 days a week, you have to quickly find a routine that works for you where you can still show up to work every day and give 110%. I also remember we used to take naps on set in between our takes all the time.” You couldn’t help but smile as you fondly remembered the first time working with Chris. “No but seriously, when you find a script that you are passionate about, and get to work with people that are truly amazing at what they do, you are happy to dedicate as much time as you need to to get that perfect take, to eventually make that perfect film.”

“Okay, well let’s talk about Defending Jacob, which for you, was a completely different style of character for you to become. How did you prepare for that role?”

“Yeah, it was definitely a new type of role to encompass, especially off the back of playing Captain America for almost a decade, even though he was considered a serious character, it’s a completely different league to enter. I remember doing a lot of work with real life district attorneys to understand the pressure and seriousness of the job role and I remember going through lines with you every damn day.”

You zone out as Chris carries on talking about Defending Jacob as you remember the nights fondly.

————————

You had just finished clearing up dinner as Chris comes bounding back into the kitchen with his script for Defending Jacob. Placing it down on the dining room table, he turned to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Sweetheart, pretty please can we run my lines again? I’ve been thinking about how I can add more passion into my character to really emphasise his emotions in those tough scenes.”

You absolutely couldn’t say no to him. You was so proud of how much work he was putting into this show and how perfect he wanted it to be, but you also couldn’t say no to those gorgeous blue puppy eyes.

It had been 45 minutes since you started running lines, you were now sitting on the dining room table swinging your legs back and forth and you couldn’t take your eyes off Chris pacing round the table, the anger and passion in his voice as he recalled his lines. You could feel the heat pooling towards the bottom of your stomach as he ran his hand through his hair, his chest flexing as he shouted his lines, the gruff tone of his voice only making your panties wetter. You were biting your lip gently as Chris pulled you out of your daydream.

“Y/N are you alright, are you getting bored?” You shook your head quickly.

“God no, course not babe. You’re doing great, I’m just slightly distracted.”

Just like always, Chris could read your mind and knew exactly what you were thinking. He sauntered closer to you, placing himself in front of you and sliding your legs open so he could stand between them. Placing his script down, he used one finger to tilt your chin up to look him in the eyes.

“Is there something you like baby?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he called you baby and ran his finger across your bottom lip before ghosting a kiss on them. He leaned down towards you, one hand running down towards your panties as he kissed along your neck and up to your ear, before mumbling..”I think we can take a break”.

————————

You chuckled to yourself, remembering so vividly on how you both broke the dining room table that night.

“Oh, is something funny sweetheart?” Chris bought you out of your daydream. Clearing your throat, you mumbled an apology before changing the subject straight back to the interview.

“Okay, let me ask you a question now Y/N. I want to know how it feels to be like a superwoman as you managed to film and promote your latest movie whilst we were planning our wedding?”

You giggle lightly and smile broadly, remembering the chaos that was your life the six months leading up to your wedding.

“Honestly, Chris, that feels like a blur these days. Planning our wedding was much more work than filming and doing press tours, but somehow we made it work. Don’t make it sound like I did it so elegantly though, I was an absolute bridezilla those six months and I don’t know how you put up with me.” You smile at each other through the screen, remembering the fond memories of your engagement. “But in all honesty, it was just quite a strict schedule with minimal sleep. I loved filming and the press tour for my film was so much fun, as was planning our wedding so even though at the time, it felt like an impossible task, looking back and seeing how well the film did and how perfect our wedding day was, it makes the hard work worth every second.”

Your smile falters slightly at the thought of some of the more stressful times during that stretch, but quickly returns at the look of love in Chris’ eyes as he hangs onto your every word.

————————

You had spent the day at home trying to organise the seating plan for your wedding which was quickly approaching in 3 months, whilst Chris had been out all day filming.

Unfortunately before Chris came home, you had pulled your heels on, ready to walk out the door to your awaiting car to take you to your latest movie press panel. A sad sigh was all you managed before you hauled yourself out the door for the 2 hour interview with your cast mates.

The panel had finished at 9pm and you had jumped straight back in the car, so the driver could take you home to Chris, silently hoping you could catch him for a bit before he went to bed. You knew he would be calling it a night quite early as you had woken up to his side of the bed empty and cold that morning, meaning he had left the house before sunrise. You felt a sudden pang of sadness about how little time you’d spent with your fiancé over the past 3 months. It was no ones fault, you were both busy but it felt like you were actively avoiding one another. You shook your head as a few tears fell.

As a welcome distraction on the way home, you had opted to start looking at flower arrangements for the bridesmaids bouquets, but you could feel yourself drifting in and out of consciousness, feeling so tired and drained from months of final filming and wedding planning.

It was just after 10:15pm as you stepped out the car, thanking the driver before heading up the path to your house. You could see the lights were off, bar the hallway light that Chris had left on for your arrival home. You sighed sadly as you stepped in the door to the quiet abyss. You removed your heels, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise, knowing that Chris was up just as early tomorrow.

Walking through to the kitchen, you could see Chris had left you some pizza takeout on the side but you didn’t have the energy to eat, just wanting to curl up in bed.

Heading straight into the ensuite to your bedroom, you quietly took off your make-up and cleansed your face to hide your tear-stained cheeks. Creeping back into the bedroom, you stood looking in the mirror of your dresser as you put on one of Chris’ t-shirts; you looked defeated and utterly glum. As you stood there for a moment longer, trying to collect your emotions and bottle them away, you heard Chris stir.

“Babe, come to bed.”

You felt your shoulders relax at the rough sound of his sleepy voice. Quickly wiping under your eyes once more, you turned round to see him holding the duvet up so you could crawl under and into his waiting arms.

Immediately relaxing into the mattress, goosebumps arose on your skin as Chris trailed his fingers up your side to pull you into him. You let yet another tear fall from your eye at the fact that this was the first time you’d actually seen him today, frustrated that work and wedding planning was taking up all your time. This didn’t go unnoticed by Chris as he caught the lone tear with his finger, wiping it away.

“I just want our wedding to be perfect and my movie to do well without having to sacrifice all my time with you” you whimpered, hiding your face in Chris’ chest.

“Sweetheart, I’m marrying you, it will all be perfect. Get some sleep, I love you.” Chris gave you a kiss on your forehead before falling straight to sleep, you dozing off straight after him, with heart full of love.

————————

The interview was coming to an end and you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness of getting to spend so much time talking to Chris but also dread of not knowing when you would get to see his face again before you finally got to go back home in a months time.

“Okay sweetheart, I have one last question and it is one that Variety suggested for both of us to answer. What is the best part about being married to someone in the same profession as you?” You smile at Chris through the screen, trying to think of only one thing to pick.

“Well, it is difficult to pick one, because there are so many great reasons but also it is really hard being married to someone in the same profession as you. I always try to be honest with our fans and in interviews, so I don’t want to sugarcoat it. We have to go long periods of time not getting to see each other and always having such high pressured schedules doesn’t allow a lot of time for married life.” You sigh at the look of sadness that has washed over both your faces. “However I count my lucky stars every day for having such a supportive and understanding husband like you.” You notice Chris blush at your answer before nodding along with you, agreeing with what you’ve said.

“I have to agree with you sweetheart. There is definitely some poetic justice in the fact that we met on set, both doing the job we love so fondly and here we are, 16 years later, married and getting to celebrate our achievements every single day together.”

You have to told back the tears as the interview finishes and Chris disappears from your screen. Even though you have demanding jobs, you could not feel luckier to be married to a man like Chris and you couldn’t wait to go back home to him.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans one shot #chris evans smut #fanfiction #angst #marvel #pov

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tfw-adhd · 4 years ago

Note

I am not diagnosed but I'm trying to see if I have adhd, doing as much research as I can. Problem is I'm 17, a girl and woc and from what I've been seeing, it seems almost impossible to get a diagnosis. I was hoping you could help me. God, this is way too long I'm really sorry to bother you. You don't have to answer if yoh don't want to

Some of the symptoms I feel like I may be experiencing are:

1. Hyperfixations: the most recent one I can think of is star wars, specifically one ship. I got into it in April 2020 and boy, I am obsessed for the lack of a better word. I literally of it when I wake up, when I go to bed and all the moments in between.

I (this is embarrassing omg) literally didn't attend a single class this year because I can't stop thinking of that ship enough to focus. I have an exam today, and I still can't stop reading fics or scrolling through ship twitter instead of preparing. Maybe I'm just lazy? Idk man I don't even have friends so idek what is normal and what is not anymore.

And I seemed to have hyperfixations throughout my life. It was Percy Jackson till 9th grade. Then AOT till 11th. And before that, dinosaurs and science of all things. I would literally buy notebooks to write science and dinosaur facts in. I only have one thing i am attached to for months at a time. To the point where if people ask me what fandoms I like I can't even give more than two or three because that's all I consume. I can't watch another show or read another book without feeling like I'm somehow cheating on star wars lmaoo

2. Focus is a big thing. I don't have it. I remember with physical exams I would have to stop in between because the focus would slip away, and I'd just spend a good ten minutes staring at my paper not taking anything in because my thoughts are too loud. With Internet exams, I'm more accustomed to having tumblr, twitter and reddit open for when I inevitably lose focus. Studying is a struggle. Fuck that, reading is a struggle. Often not able to get past one or two sentences without immediately feeling irritated (?) Not the right word but I can't think of anything to describe the fuzziness in my brain.

I daydream a lot in physical class and while eating and watching movies. And when I try to sleep. And when I'm in waiting rooms or trying to study. Literally everywhere to the point where I often forget they're in my head.

3. I am very forgetful. Fuck, i forgot what the things on this list are. I forgot to take my medicines. I forget what I'm saying half way through the sentence. Literally a pain in my ass.

4. Idk if this just stress or something else, but ever since I was a child I would suck my thumb (still do), bite my nails, pick at my skin and hair. I would pull my hair and eyelashes qnd eyebrows. Rubs my skin. Scratch till it's bleeding. I feel very horrible if I don't do it.

5. Xakwdlkdkalkdadkod I literally can not remember I had a whole list figured out and I can't remember it anymore because I got distracted in between oh god.

6. Oh wait, restlessness. Always shaking my legs or ripping up tissue or tapping my fingers, picking at my body or sucking my thumb. Anything to keep my occupied. Without any sort of physical activity i feel very fuzzy. Like somethings not right.

7. I've heard about rsd and idk if this is it but I'm literally the type of person to overexplain and apologise quickly even if the other person gave no indication of being hurt.

My mother could ask me how my studies are going and I get very defensive and angry because I feel like she's trying trying imply I'm not studying enough even though that's not her intent.

I'm sorry for going on for too long. I hope you can help me figure out if this is normal or not. Thank you so much and I hope you and your family are safe, healthy and happy.

Unfortunately, you’re right that it’s harder for both girls and POC to get ADHD diagnoses. Even though both sexes show equal numbers of people with ADHD, it goes under-diagnosed in AFAB individuals.

But everything you just described sounds exactly like ADHD, yeah. The Neurotypical brain doesn’t fixate on things like that (not to the point of skipping loads of classes and it being all they can think about, anyway.)

And the one about sucking your thumb sounds like stimming, something neurodivergent people do.

#adhd #long post #nucleic-acid03

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blind-alchemists · 3 years ago

Text

Meta-Analysis of the Rift Mage Specialization

I said in February I was going to do it, and it only took me seven months to follow through!

Anyway. Analyzing game-play elements for narratives purposes has become somewhat of a hobby of mine ever since I really got into GameLit. Then, I started "fangs" and felt that my fight scenes were boring, so I build ability trees reminiscent of DA:I's for my OCs. You know, as you do. During that process, though, the lack of banter acknowledging several choices struck me as odd. Especially regarding specializations. Especially when it comes to Solas'.

We’ll be taking a look at (in order)

1. Description

2. Codex Entry

3. Skills

a. in comparison to DA: II’s Primal & Force Mage

4. Specialization Dialogue with Solas

5. Conclusion

Disclaimer: I talk a lot (this post might have about 2.5k). And, I promise you, you'll be tired of seeing 'the Fade this' and 'the Veil that' at the end of it.

Description

“These mages draw upon the force of the Fade, either pulling matter from the Fade to attack or twisting the Veil itself into a weapon to stagger or crush their enemies.”

[source – DA wiki; bolding mine]

So, lore-wise, mages do ‘draw upon the Fade’. Sure. But do they ‘pull matter from the Fade’? Absolutely not.

Physical things and the Fade rarely mix well. Plus – this is mainly my theory – the way magic is utilized (the 'drawing upon the Fade part') requires it to pass through the Veil. Magic being a form of energy, and thus not physical, does not constitute to ‘pulling matter from the Fade’.

That's the first thing other mages (read: Dorian, Vivienne, possible the Inquisitor) should (or could) have referenced in banter/dialogue.

The rest of the sentence ('twisting the Veil into a weapon') is also highly interesting, since there is little known about the Veil. Nobody knows how it works. And, thus, nobody should be capable enough to manipulate it consistently enough to use it as a weapon. But considering it's Solas who gets this specialization - well. He knows the Veil well enough, don't you think? (Which is why I think Rift Mage should have been Solas' personal, individual specialization like Fenris' Lyrium Ghost, but I just really like personalized skill trees in general.)

However, having answered that question, connecting magic so closely to the very thing can be described as a “magical vibration that repels the Fade”, I'm curious about how it would work. Since, you know, mages are inevitably tied to the Fade. Wouldn't the Veil repel a try to manipulate it by a mage? Is using mana the same thing as drawing energy from the Fade? If so, it would be straight-up impossible to actually use such a method for any ordinary mage (read: not Solas). If mana can be used without the Fade, it would be possible, but is such a thing feasible? Can you switch between spells and Veil quickly enough without horrific consequences such as possibly tearing yourself apart?

Very interesting topic. Would love to go into it more, but at that point, I'd become subjective, so let's end it here.

To summarize: Rift mages do things (physically pulling things from the Fade plus using the Veil) normal mages don't do. There is also a chance, logically speaking, that no one else but Solas (or mage!Inquisitor) can accomplish such a feat without dying a horrific death.

Codex Entry

From "Power Bleeds: Harness the Flow." Your Trainer's words make one passage stand out:

There are no tomes dedicated to this manipulation. There has been no time for academics, only the practical—and not in a manner that mitigates risk. Power in a raw form has found an outlet, both visible and in ways that only we of arcane proclivity can sense. The risk is great.

An account:

From this page forward, these are the notes of Thelric. They began as the work of my mentor Julion, and I will continue in the research she began, as she cannot, because she is dead. The rift we were examining did not react well to her last investigation. We believed ourselves prepared for demonic manifestation. We were not prepared for how the energies we expected would be encountered. Well-versed in the forces that magic can produce, my senior was surprised by an alteration, a deviance. That which previously had to be coaxed is now a flood that must be staunched. The same amount in different intensity, quick to expose fault in the way it is accessed. She drew too much, expecting resistance. There was none, and her form suffered the brunt. Tread carefully in studies of new matters, for I cannot unsee the end of her.

Scattered symbols and sketches follow.

[source – DA wiki; bolding mine]

Apparently DA:I has a thing for hiding the true horror in Codex Entries and off-hand comments.

Here, we learn one key fact: The school of Rift Magic is relatively new ('no tomes dedicated to this manipulation'). I think it's safe to assume the possibility - and thus research concerning it - emerged around the time the Breach appeared. So it's new, people have no idea what they're doing, but it somehow works. A little like the whole time magic thing, funnily. (That brings me back to a lot of questions I have about the Veil: Just how powerful is it? Just how deeply is it intervened with Thedas?)

Reading further, the entry seems to (only) stress how dangerous Rift Magic is. Who would have thought! No, really, it's a fair point to empaphize. I'm not certain the Trainer and his previous teacher (or anyone else but Solas) know what kind of role the Veil plays in this, and so of course experiments are going to get ugly. The Veil holds a much greater importance than the people of Thedas realize.

And, in a very similar vein: The people of Thedas don't know much about directly interacting with the Fade through, say, a rift, which poses another risk. The wiki entry establishes two things in particular that are relevant here: Using spells (in the Fade itself) has unpredictable results, and one can draw unprecedented power from it while sleeping.

The codex entry cited above proves that. A rift is a direct connection to the Fade, and thus unpredictable ('She drew too much, expecting resistance. There was none') and that power is too much to handle ('her form suffered the brunt').

My theory is that, while a certain flunction is natural to the Fade, the Veil also plays a role here. Which I'm not sure. But it has one.

Personally, I wouldn't be sure the risks of a horrific death outweigh the benefits of power, but let's look more in depth at that!

Skills

Which brings me to the abilities themselves.

The first two you can choose from are Veilstrike and Stonefist. (Which I think should have had their names changed but, oh, well.)

Veilstrike: “You recreate your own fist from the essence of the Fade and smash nearby foes to the ground.” (Upgrades being Punched Down and Wounded Veil, but they don’t have anything interesting for this analysis. Note the names, though.)

Curious here is the 'recreate [...] from the essence of the Fade' part here. On first glance, it sounds like a rather ordinary spell, right? But it's not. That's just the 'hiding in plain sight for the first playthrough' aspect of Solas' character.

Mages do shape their spells with energy from the Fade (as far as my assumptions go). Maybe they can also recreate something. I'll give them that much. But the essence of the Fade - the inherit, unchanging nature of it - can't be manipulated by them. I think that's specifically a trait only Dreamers can have. (More evidence for my 'Rift Mage should have been Solas' personalized, individual specialization' hc!)

There is an argument to be made if this already constitutes for 'pulling matter from the Fade', but this isn't even the funkiest part yet.

Stonefist: “You summon a boulder from the Fade and smash it into your target, sending them flying.” (Upgrades being Shatterstone and Unblockable Force.)

'Summon a boulder from the Fade', you know, as in, bring physical matter from the Fade to the other side of the Veil. A thing that is pretty much unheard of. Remembers what happens to spirits when they pass violently through the Veil? There is an entire game dealing with that. (I mean, stones won't hopefully turn into demons, but my point is that bringing things through, usually, is not a wise idea.

Another thing someone could have commented on.

Passives: Restorative Veil, Encircling Veil, Smothering Veil, Twisting Veil.

Unfortunately, neither of these descriptions give me much, but they all have the ‘Veil’ component in their name, so that’s interesting.

Upon closer inspection, the Veil can function in a variety of ways: speeding up mana recovery, further weakening enemies, boosting your own damage. (Veilstrike being an example of a means of attack.)

Now, my question here would be: Do over mages notice changes in the Veil? Do they feel it shift and bend? If not, well, that's one thing. if they do, even subconsciously, I'd want banter. (I want a lot of banter, though. Just generally speaking.)

Pull of the Abyss: “You create a tiny rift that pulls enemies toward a central point.” (Upgrades being Shaken Veil and Devouring Veil.)

I can live with never hearing anything about everything else. Sure. But this one? This damned skill? You're telling me I read that the first time I played the game, nodded, and that was it?

'You can create a tiny rift-' I'm sorry, do you what now? After a good a couple of hours of learning just how bad rifts are?

And the upgrade names. Shaken Veil, Devouring Veil - is there anything this thing can't do, except for becoming more and more horrifying and giving me bad vibes ofr whatever DA4 will do with it?

Firestorm: “You summon flaming meteors, raining fire down upon enemies all over the area for the next several seconds. This ability consumes and is powered by focus.”

This one is ... honestly, I don't like it being here. It's an AOE skill, which does fit in with the rest, but it's fire and it seems rather randomly assigned compared to other focus abilities with a more personal note (Haste, Rampagne, Cloak of Shadows, Mark of the Rift).

Doesn't give a lot here to analyze, except that raining down flaming meteors is the level of (global) destruction I can see happening in the future if Solas isn't stopped. So. That's fun.

(It's the ultimate skill in the Fire/Ice tree in DA:II, or at least the ability there has the same name.)

DA: II Comparison

Nearing the end, I'll take a brief look at the Force Mage specialization from DA:II and the Primal base skill tree for mages. Both have some interesting similarities.

First, Primal.

Stonefist: “The mage hurls a stone projectile that strikes with massive force.”

It's only the name and the effect, honestly, but it is curious to see it in a skill tree that focuses exclusively on the elements earth and lightning. (Because Pride demons also use electricity ... yeah, yeah. I'm reading too much into this.)

Petrify: “The mage entombs an enemy in stone, leaving the foe temporarily unable to move. However, the target becomes more resistant to damage for the duration of the spell.”

This has nothing to do with Rift Mage, but in light of Trespasser, I'll just leave it here for your consideration. Petrifying people is neither new nor exclusive to Evanruis.

Now, onto Force Mage.

Fist of the Maker: “The mage slams enemies into the ground with incredible power, against which armor is no protection.”

The effect sounds like Stonefist (Primal) and Veilstrike.

Pull of the Abyss: “The mage conjures a maelstrom of energy that draws enemies to its center while slowing them to a crawl.”

This one is similar to the Rift Mage skill with the same name, so it might have served as an inspiration (or base).

Overall, though: nothing much to say here. Maybe I could talk more about Rift Mage being focused on crowd control, but that is probably for game-play balance. I could connect that to Solas' character and analyze every little thing to death. I'm not doing it, though.

Specialization Dialogue

Solas: You have begun practicing new magical forms. Interesting. You seem to be drawing upon the raw substance of the Fade, likely using your mark as a catalyst. I use similar techniques, although it took me years to learn that. Why did you choose such an esoteric area of study?

Inquisitor: (if chosen) I hoped that studying such magic would me help better understand the Fade.

Solas: While our fight affords little time for formal study, the wise can better themselves even in the midst of battle. Perhaps especially then. I hope your new studies serve you well.

[source]

Let’s go through this slowly.

‘You seem to be drawing upon the raw substance of the Fade-’ Alright, we’ve talked about that. Makes sense he’d comment on it. ‘likely using your mark as a catalyst’ Sorry? The Inquisitor is doing what? I’m not saying it’s not possible, I’m just saying it might not be an overly smart idea to use the Anchor in that way. Because it’s attached to the Inquisitor’s arm. And because the Inquisitor knows what happens if it snaps out of control. So, purposefully doing something that might cause you agonizing pain? Mh. Yeah. No, thanks.

Also. The 'drawing upon the raw substance of the Fade' part makes me think that the Anchor does give the Inquisitor Dreamer-like abilities. Forcefully, and possibly difficult to control, and the Inquisitor might not be aware of it, but. That would be an interesting aspect to explore.

‘I use similar techniques, although it took me years to learn that’. Well. Yeah. Mostly a sound response, except I’m not really sure it's true. Why does he say years? Because he didn’t go right to sleep after creating the Veil, or because he studied such methods theoretically beforehand? I doubt he refers to the time Inquisition spans, because it’s not that long, cannocially, (isn't it like ... a year? I forget what the devs said), but … I don’t know. It doesn't sit right with me. Solas never truly outright lies, so there is probably some merit in it.

‘Why did you choose such an esoteric area of study?’ That’s … an interesting way to ask. Sure, there is a very small group who has this specialized knowledge, but it feels a little like deflection.

The rest of the conversation doesn’t give much for me to analyze.

Conclusion

TL;DR: There should have been banter. Or Rift Mage should have been a personalized, individual specialization.

Pull of the Abyss is the funkiest skill in the entire game, from a meta-perspective, because tearing a hole into the Veil is the opposite of what the Inquisitor is trying to do.

There are also many more questions than answer to take away from this regarding the Veil and the Fade and how Solas manages not to blow his cover, but I believe there are theories about at least the two former points out there.

I thank you very much for bearing with me for this long!

#dragon age #dragon age meta #meta #rift mage #solas #analysis #rift mage specialization #skill tree #ability tree #analyzing game-play-elements for narrative purposes #long post #even for my standards

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sinkix · 4 years ago

Text

Haikyuu!!│Obsessive/Yandere HC’s │

Warning - Contains dark themes, mentions of emotional and physical abuse & sexually suggestive/explicit (18+) content, reader’s discretion is advised.

Characters - Hinata, Kuroo, Daichi, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Oikawa, Bokuto, Tendou & Kageyama.

Important Note: This is in no way romanticising or normalising toxic/abusive behaviour, you should not do as such as this is incredibly dangerous and unhealthy. If you identify any of these in your own relationships please seek help from a member of authority, counsellor or someone who can remove you from and aid in your recovery from the situation. This is a great contrast from all my other work on here so please read with caution. Stay safe <3

Hinata - The Hell-bent Visionary

Danger level: 6.5/10

So you’ve caught the eye of Karasuno’s ray of sunshine?

Bask in it’s warmth while you can, for the sun sets and leaves a chilling dark in it’s wake.

When he becomes focused on something, it’s hard to break the dedication he has. It’s unyielding, firm and persistent. Once you light a fire in him, it’s near impossible to put out.

And you didn’t just spark a flame, you formed a whole inferno.

Blowing up your phone with texts, calls and the tapping of rocks against your bedroom’s glass from late night visits to your doorstep. Greeted with the sickening scent of blood-red roses filling your nose at a reminder of how firmly he has you in his hold that will never falter. The lingering scratch marks adorning the window panes that you could have sworn were not there the night before.

He can’t get enough of you, and the more time he spends with you, the more addictive your presence becomes.

He’s hooked, reaching the point of rivalling his sporting passion.

He learns to balance the two equally, and any second that isn’t spent practising, he is by your side or doing everything in his power to be.

It’s tunnel vision. All he sees is you, and the ball, nothing else matters. Relentlessly chasing for both long after his lungs tire and legs give out.

He is a dark, unwavering force of nature, itching to monopolise you and eradicate any threat on what belongs to him. Yet around everyone else, he's a bundle of lovable sunshine who wouldn't dare hurt a fly, and while he doesn't show an outright aggressive nature, you know there's something sinister lurking underneath that might one day snap.

It’s his stare that haunts you the most.

That ominous, chilling stare which pierces through your heart and impales it on a stick, out on display for him to marvel at in all it’s vulnerable beauty. The level of intensity and sheer devotion glinting in his eyes is nothing short of haunting.

Luckily for you, Hinata will not cause physical harm, but it’s his presence and ‘Jekyll & Hyde’ nature which will slowly but surely chip away at you until your sanity is reduced to dust. The worst part? Since he is loved by everyone, no one sees the twisted side you do, and as a result left permanently in a state of self-doubt and second guessing. Your mind will eventually spiral into a descent to madness until your right where he wants you.

Be careful, for even the sun’s light burns out eventually. And when it does, you’ll be swallowed by the darkness.

Kuroo - The Devil’s Reciprocal

Danger level: 9/10

Ahhh, the bad boy who smells of cigarettes and sex, the one who lurks in bars long after midnight eyeing up his prey. This man gives Satan a run for his money. I hope you’re prepared. What did you do to catch his eye, anyway?

Whatever it was, it’s doomed you to an eternity in hell on earth.

Or heaven, if you’re a glass half full kind of person.

Kuroo drew you in like a moth to a flame, you knew he had no glinting halo, but that was his appeal.

He was the incarnation of everything your parents warned you about, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Hell, you still can’t. But that doesn’t minimise the damage done to you every second he turns the light on, reeling you in once again, further and further until there’s no escape, utterly blinded by his deceiving tactics.

He has many admirers, you know. So in his eyes he feels you should be privileged to be given so much of his attention, that once received would leave any sane person running.

Unfortunately, you don’t seem to be sane enough, and he recognises this. He knows he’s got you hooked on his every word, dragging out the syllables like a lullaby that leave you entranced and begging for more.

What can I say? The man has a way with words, and you’re totally enthralled by every sentence.

Kuroo recklessly waves his charm like a gun, never a moment of hesitation to utilise it in order to get what he wants.

And he always gets what he wants.

It’s so dangerous it will leave you down on your knees in an act of submission and prepared to do anything to please him. The tip of the pistol aimed at your temple as if daring your defiance.

He revels in seeing that doe-eyed expression, fully aware of how much control he holds over every cell in your body. All of them scream out for him, for Kuroo. To kiss you, touch you and whisper sweet-nothings into your ear that linger with his hot breath scathing your neck, burning his scent into your memory until it’s one you’ll never forget.

With all that temptation comes consequence though, because once you give in, you’ll face the sadists horns that lurk underneath.

Intertwining your bodies and tracing a switchblade across your jugular, he’ll stretch his lips into a wide, cunning grin, slamming into you and rutting his hips until they connect with yours. Throwing your head back in ecstasy, your whine will be stifled and cut short by the piercing slit of a blade shallowly opening the skin of your throat, the sharp sting lingering as his tongue deepens the incision with delight.

He is incredibly possessive, so anyone he deems a threat will be mercilessly eradicated, soon to be forgotten though. He will never allow your thoughts to be consumed by anything but him.

Grinding his body against yours, the husky murmuring of pillow talk he is all too skilled at will leaves your knees trembling and buckling before him, with the one question he will only ever accept one answer to.

“Tell me sweetheart, who do you belong to...?”

Shuffling the cards and dragging cigar smoke across his lips, he’ll sip that glass of gin snidely and lock you in place with his smouldering gaze. Forever a reminder there’s no escape from his enslaving curse.

Daichi - The Despotic Protector

Danger level: 6/10

Karasuno’s father figure and reliable captain rolled into one. I hope you’re prepared for a lifetime of suffocation, because he’s never letting you go.

He takes on an almost a parental role in the relationship, and a toxic one.

Controlling, overbearing and monitoring your every move. He will never allow you to do anything without his permission out of fear for your safety.

I mean, what if something happens to you while you’re not within his peripherals?

That’s a thought he simply couldn’t bear.

He’ll lock you in the confines of his home if he has to. But don’t get mad sweetheart, it’s because he cares for you.

Soon enough Daichi will have isolated you from the world, never seeing the shining of sunlight unless your arm is looped around his in a crushing hold.

Friends? You can forget them, he made sure to steer you far, far away from those. He just can’t risk them laying a finger on you or putting you in harms way, he would never forgive them.

Daichi desperately tries to convince you he has your best interests at heart, and unluckily for you, you fall right into his trap.

Your whole life is consumed by him, and only him. Watching the clock tick by aimlessly until you hear his footsteps up the driveway, scurrying to the door to greet him like an obedient dog upon his arrival.

Pulling you into a loving hug that threatens to squeeze the life out of you, you can’t help but let your mind roam and ponder the question lurking at the back of your thoughts.

Has he ever killed with these hands?

They seem too crushing. Like a brute, inhuman force. You can picture his fingers wrapped around someone’s throat and draining them of oxygen almost too easily.

Little did you know, your hypothesis was painfully accurate.

An old childhood friend of yours, currently 6 feet under in the yard. Your bare feet trampling over his grave and none the wiser every time he allows you to set foot in the garden.

You’ll never know, though. It’s not like you can check your phone without his permission anyway, he’s already blocked their contact.

Days, weeks, months pass by of his constant monitoring and controlling behaviour. The CCTV’s scattered in every corner of the house, the social deprivation and loneliness that creeps in every time he’s not there as you roam the barren household, the purple finger marks roping your wrists from when he kept you in a paralysing grip,daring your disobedience.

and you can’t help but wonder,

Maybe the person you needed protecting from was him.

Tsukishima - The Mendacious Manipulator

Danger level: 8.5/10

How unlucky you are to be paired with this mentally destroying sadist.

At first Tsukishima’s wit, sarcasm and clever quips were what allured you, never did you think they would be used against you. Wielded like a weapon with a blade sharp enough to slice you in two.

And I’m warning you, every cut hurts.

There’s no escaping from it, a string of degrading remarks whispered cruelly in your ear while holding hands in public, appearing to be a cute and affectionate couple, but a sinister secret lurks underneath that only you know of.

He’ll treat you like a dog, expecting you to be at his every beck and call, serving on your knees with a painted smile that’s woefully forced on with every ounce of strength you have left.

You are his puppet, his useless little play thing that he makes painfully aware of how disposable they truly are.

And don’t take him for a fool, he will discard you if he sees fit.

Unmerciful, cruel, snide, are the some of many words that can describe Tsukishima, and as you’ll soon find out none of them are pleasant.

He will craftily make you open up to him. Revealing your deepest insecurities,traumas and troubles then sheath it like a sword to your neck, holding you hostage to your own weaknesses in order to gain that empowering sense of control he oh-so revels in. Endlessly striving to achieve his selfish, favourable outcome.

This Yandere is one of most intelligent of the bunch, and unfortunately for you, does not use his intelligence for charitable or good-natured purposes.

He knows exactly what to say to leave you curled up in a ball, tears streaming and wracked in emotional agony as you plead for forgiveness on something that isn’t even your fault. He knows this, but finds it comical and all too amusing to see you so broken over something when you weren’t the one to blame. He gets off to your mental anguish.

You’ll be left stumbling the streets at 2 in the morning, contemplating your life and everything as you know it, he will warp your perception of the world until he is the only one you can crawl to. After all, it’s your fault, right? He’s the only one who could tolerate you, everyone else abandoned you because you were so insufferable.

...is what he’ll have you believe. In reality, Tsukishima was pulling strings behind the scenes to ensure you would distance yourself from friends and family, resulting in them doing the same. Wrapping you around his finger and twisting your behaviour into one that’s volatile and unapproachable, until you’re left totally alone.

You’ll never know though.

That mental fortitude will soon shatter, and when it does, he’ll cackle at it’s pathetic remains.

Yamaguchi - The Diffident Vampire

Danger level: 5/10

I’m sad to say, but your tween Twilight fantasies will be crushed when you stumble upon this mess of a monster.

I don’t mean to say he’s a literal vampire, but you’ll understand the use of this metaphor once we delve into some of his tendencies.

He is incredibly insecure, the walking embodiment of the very word.

Now that isn’t the reason you should be warded off, everyone has self-esteem issues. However, this trait of his plays a huge part in siphoning the life out of you.

He captured your heart with his soft and sympathetic nature, easily startled and somewhat skittish.

You didn’t see what was below the iceberg however, and once you did, he sank his teeth in and began to suck before you could escape, draining you dry until you have no more left to give. Nothing to spare until he is licking his lips in satisfaction, swelled with the abundance at the emotional dependency he has built up on you.

He needs reassurance like a life line, and while some might find this endearing at first, it undoubtedly becomes highly toxic and emotionally exhausting.

Yamaguchi is incredibly volatile with his sensitivity, you have to watch your words and be sure he doesn’t misinterpret them and become dejected. He will read into everything you say and question every little detail.

This is one of those Yandere’s that wouldn't do it intentionally I don’t think, but by the time he catches himself it’s too late, he’s in far too deep to stop and I don’t think he ever will once he realises how addicted he is to you, your words boosting his sense of worth and being the only form of confidence he’s ever felt in his life.

It’s quite sad, really.

Don’t pity him too much, though. That’s the trap. That’s how reels you in until the teeth marks adorning your neck are a harsh reminder that you are nothing more than food for his ego.

If you ever think about leaving, he will have no qualms grovelling at your knees, razor to his wrists and begging you to stay. A cruel memoire at what keeps you tied here in the first place.

Pity.

Care.

The mutual empathy you saw in him that drew you in was now broken and one-sided, his selfishness far outweighing this trait of his and becoming your death-sentence.

The marks will never fade. One day you’ll collapse to your knees and cave, but he won’t stop until he has bled you bare.

Oikawa - The Venusian’s Nightmare.

Danger level: 8/10

Oh charming Oikawa. The pretty boy with enough carnal seduction to rival his greek goddess counterpart. Hair smooth as silk, eyes glinting with mischief and a smirk that could bow you down on all fours. He has everything, or so it seems.

Sanity isn’t one of them.

He is VERY demanding when he craves your attention, which let’s face it is pretty often. If he doesn’t get it? Definition of a nightmarish brat.

He will whine, complain, blow up your phone. Still not available?

He’ll simply disappear.

For how long? Who really knows. He likes the thought of you on edge and anticipating his return, thoughts of him plaguing your mind to the point you question if you’re the one who’s obsessed.

Don’t worry though, when he returns he has enough sensual suave to make you forgive him ten times over.

You may think his bratty and sulking nature is the worst of it.

Oh how wrong you are.

Push him to his limits or the closest thing to it and you’ll face a cut-throat, teasing sadist who will tie you to the bed with a sickening sparkle in his eyes, marvelling at your skin jaggedly sliced open like a sheet of paper, tracing the wounds with his tongue and lapping up the blood before pulling you into a heated kiss which seems almost loving, if it weren’t for the metallic taste intertwining your tongues as a harsh reminder that you’re not here by choice.

He is definitely the type to mock you and howl with laughter as your body spams and writhes in pain, degrading you with the most vile remarks till tears spill from your eyes.

“Awh poor (Y/N)-chan, crying like a baby. Can’t handle the pain? What a pathetic little whore. Maybe if you beg enough, I��ll ease up the pressure~”

Sometimes he’ll leave you there wrist-bound to the bed post for hours, coming back in occasionally until your level of pleading satisfies him.

His change in treatment is paradoxical in the aftermath, he will release you from your restrains and rub your skin with such tender care, it’s agonisingly deceiving.

One of the most dangerous things about him is his intuition, it’s damn near supernatural and makes for a natural born lie detector. Oikawa will sense the slightest shift in your mood, tone and body language. He knows you like the back of his hand, making it all the more unnerving to be in his presence.

This can be a positive if he is looking to fill you with ecstasy, since he knows every sweet spot, curl of his fingers and words to whisper that leave you trembling in mind-numbing pleasure.

Though you know once coming down from your high, your moments of heaven will slip through your fingers before crashing back down to reality.

He can read you like a book that he wrote with his own hands and it’s horrifying, he can predict what you’re going to say or do before you’ve even made up your mind. Which as you can guess, makes escape or wheedling out of a threatening scenario a null alternative.

If you decide to make the suicidal mistake of lying, your body will never quite function the same once he’s through. not to mention the plethora of emotional scarring that comes along with it.

After catching you in your mendacity and deeming your punishment enough, he’ll decorate your body in cuts, bruises and hickeys that throb from the abuse of his teeth. Laying you down in bed and tucking you in gently, wrapping an arm around in an act of ‘protection’ that was formerly wrapped around your throat in an act of threatening asphyxiation.

Eyes fluttering closed hours after he drifted off beside you, your heart rate quells and the tears staining your cheeks dry, preparing for the repeated cycle when the sun rises.

How foolish to be lured in by such a facade, even the most beautiful of creatures can be hideous.

Bokuto - The Volcanoes Slaughter

Danger level: 9.5/10

The ticking of a time bomb, the cracking of the ground beneath your feet.

Once you are swept up in this man’s wrath you know there will never be an escape.

and he’s fucking terrifying.

His energy and vigour were what charmed you, his upbeat enthusiasm that while volatile, was very contagious and encouraging.

If only you had known what kind of disaster was laying low under the surface.

Akaashi had tried to warn you, but you simply never listened.

He pities you now, for you’re in the same boat as him.

Eternally putting up with his violent tempers and erratic nature, which you often get the brunt of behind closed doors, left to cover the scars with a scarf and cheap pot of concealer.

His moods switch as quick as the direction of the wind, a gust too strong that leaves you flying back like a ragdoll against the wall.

Or that may just be because he actually threw you in a fit of rage, itching to see your limp body crack against the drywall to soothe his rage. Drowning the voices in his head with the sound of your soothing whimpers filled with agony.

While he may beat you black and blue whenever the overflow of emotions take over, he still does ‘care’ for you in his own sickening way, and would never have any qualms snapping a neck or two if it prevented anyone else laying a finger on you.

Though to be honest it’s the furthest thing from care, it’s downright monopolisation of something he deems his object.

How dare they hurt his personal punching bag, don’t they know you’re his and his alone to mark up in any way he pleases?

To everyone else, he seems like a very loving and protective boyfriend who has the occasional mood swing. If only they could pick up on the flinching of your body when his voice raises even a decibel, or the way you retract in fear at the swatting of a hand too close to your face.

The anxiety felt when in his presence is indescribable, your whole body will soon become accustomed to trembling in fear, your fight or flight kicking in at the mere mention of his name. His voice sends every hair standing on end, bracing for the impact that may or may never come from his grazed fists.

Treading on eggshells and analysing every word before you speak will become second nature, even the tone of your voice or the way you arrange a question will be heavily thought over before even daring to let it escape your mouth.

You just can’t risk it, even hearing a word he doesn’t like will result in the tectonic plates shifting, getting closer to his impending eruption.

Once you hear the rumbling, you’ll know it’s far too late to run. Burned by the raging lava and consumed whole in a flood of pain and misery, it will destroy everything in it’s wake, even you.

Tendou - The Jesters Despair

Danger level: 10/10

You really opened pandora’s box with this one.

And once you so much as cracked it for a peak, just that little inkling of curiosity, the lanky arm of a redhead yanked your wrist and dragged you in with him.

Tendou’s eccentric and offbeat disposition was something you had always admired, it was what made your heart flutter.

Now? That eccentricity is put to the most horrifying of uses.

Mind games, manipulation, and unpredictability beyond your worst nightmare.

Tendou is the type to sink a blade into your skin and cackle maniacally while you cry and plead for him to stop. Edging himself and eyeing you up greedily at the painful fear in your eyes, blood trickling down your skin with each incision.

He’ll pull your hair back and slide his tongue along the cuts, his lustful gaze boring into your own as the pooling saliva leaves a chilling feeling on your skin, nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought of his DNA entering your bloodstream.

He thrives on trickery and deception. He’s the type to say something incredibly warm and soft-centred, one that makes your pupils expand in newfound hope with the question of “...really?” rolling off your tongue. That inkling of hope sparking the thought that maybe, just maybe he’s changed.

Only to burst into a fit of laughter at your naivety, teasing you relentlessly for how gullible and moronic he thinks you are.

This yandere is incredibly incalculable. Here one minute, gone the next. Don’t even bother trying to figure out what he’s doing or where he is, you’ll never know. It keeps you on your toes in the most negative and unnerving sense of the expression, he gets a buzz off leaving you wondering, and takes great satisfaction in knowing you’re probably thinking about him.

However, he expects you to be there whenever he needs you, regardless of circumstance. And if you’re not? You’ll have consequences to face.

I’m sorry to say, but there is no chance in hell you’re surviving this experience, there’s no doubt you’ll be murdered eventually.

After all, he does get bored easily. Not so much as giving it a second thought on disposing of you once you are no longer a source of fresh entertainment for his sadistic desires.

With each passing day his treatment becomes increasingly brutal, searching for new ways to fulfil that empty feeling in his heart and cold, hollow look in his eyes. Don’t even bother trying to save him, not even he would know where to start.

Every night as you shut your eyes on the hardwood floor beside his bed, you can’t help but wonder if this is the last time you’ll ever close them.

And for your sake? You’d better hope it is.

Charming you with the humour of a Jester and putting on a show, he’ll make it certain every time you laugh, will be paid back with tears twofold.

Kageyama - The Majesties Tyrant

Danger level: 7/10

Kneel before your highness or face his wrath. Kageyama Tobio is the most commanding of them all. Permanently trapped in his dictatorship with no hope of revolt.

He doesn’t become set on things very often, but once he does it’s something he’ll never give up until he’s conquered it wholly.

Stubborn, moody, domineering and demanding. With just enough of a soft side he uses to persuade you back again.

Fuelled by ego, pride, and a sense of superiority, he will never stop until he has your total obedience.

Being the dense man he is, this is usually achieved through simplistic means of intimidation and threats of aggression.

Kageyama will not hesitate to raise his fist and back you into a corner, cowering in recoil at his menacing aura that itches to do damage

You will do what he says, whenever he needs it, no if’s but’s or objections.

For such a hard headed ruler, he’s surprisingly childish and unsure about how to express anything other than abuse.

I think a part of him genuinely does like you, but it’s far too clouded by his toxic nature that it could never be seen as even slightly redeemable.

The most you’ll ever get out of Kageyama is the occasional hug, in which he squeezes you far to tight and resurfaces the pain of last nights bruises.

He doesn’t resort to physical violence often, as he is always reprimanded by the team to control his anger. If only they knew what he was like behind closed doors. I suppose you could credit it to Karasuno that he hasn’t accidentally killed you yet.

Yet.

When it comes to matters in the bedroom, he is focused solely on his own gratification, yours being a second thought he never so much as acknowledges.

Collared and threaded by chain, you will crawl beside him and take it all until you’re gasping for air. The only thing he cares about is climaxing and leaving you with the cleanup.

He’s quite self conscious, so don’t expect much physical affection unless he’s chasing a particularly intense release.

Kageyama is highly jealous and frequently painted green with envy, so expect your social life to dwindle significantly once he has his hands on you, literally and metaphorically.

Thankfully, he won’t isolate you entirely, but it’s enough to leave you feeling segregated from the rest of the world. A lone member of his regime that you are forever trapped in with no chance of escape.

Bow down with a meek mutter of “Yes...master.” His crown will twinkle in the moonlight as a symbol of your everlasting enslavement.

The king of the court, and the ruler of your heart.

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ninjago-happens-here · 3 years ago

Text

'Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.'

@ninjago-angst-week am I late or what? Sorry but I think spewing out 21k words over teh course of 3 days killed my motivation. It took 3 days just to write 6.1k words.

Summary:

P.I.X.A.L. notices that the store of bandages is running low. She thinks about all the times she had to use them on one of her teammates, and its purposes.

“Hey Pix! We’re running low on bandages. Can you help us order some before we go to Shintaro?” Nya’s voice came from the medical bay of the Destiny’s Bounty. The Ninja and Master Wu were going on a trip to Shintaro. Unfortunately, Pixal never got an invite, but she has long been used to being left behind. It’s not that it was a bad thing, per se. Pixal knew the importance of having a backup, and having someone watch over Ninjago whilst the Ninja were gone. Still, to distract herself after placing a digital order, she thought about anything that could distract her. That thing just happened to be about bandages.

Bandages. Neat, white little things that wrap around any land or sky creature. According to Wikipedia, a bandage is a piece of material used either to support a medical device such as a dressing or splint, or on its own to provide support to or to restrict the movement of a part of the body. When used with a dressing, the dressing is applied directly to a wound, and a bandage is used to hold the dressing in place. Other bandages are used without dressings, such as elastic bandages that are used to reduce swelling or provide support to a sprained ankle. Tight bandages can be used to slow blood flow to an extremity, such as when a leg or arm is bleeding heavily.

At first, that was all P.I.X.A.L. knew about bandages. Given that she was built with the main purpose of being Cyrus Borg’s assistant, her primary knowledge consisted mostly of the ins and outs of Borg Tower, emergency protocols, customer service skills, and basic first aid, given that her maker was frailer than your average Ninjago citizen.

Of course, the longer she worked under Cyrus Borg, the more she learnt about the medical field. Curious about Mr Borg’s special circumstances, she was permitted to look through the internet for more information. In no time at all, she learnt about surgery, prosthetics, all different kinds of medication, and how to diagnose illnesses. In her given free time, she studied all the information available on the internet about the medical field. Even though the information was useless to her, an android who had no physical weaknesses like the humans do, her system determined that whilst the knowledge was a bit excessive, it only helps to prepare her to care for Mr Borg.

She never really needed to apply all that knowledge about serious and fatal cuts, but when Borg gets even the slightest injury, P.I.X.A.L. was there to offer her assistance.

A year after she had been created, Cyrus Borg had offered her to take a test of the field in medicine. P.I.X.A.L. had immediately felt lighter and better somehow. When asking Borg why she was feeling this way and if robots could get sick, Borg had laughed in surprise and shock.

“That feeling is happiness, P.I.X.A.L.! It’s an emotion that all living creatures feel, you included.”

“But I am not living-“ Mr Borg cut her off.

“Technically, you are right, P.I.X.A.L., but you are intelligence, and intelligence is what defines life. You can adapt, change, and overcome as all living beings do. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise! Because that would be an insult to my intelligence!” Cyrus Borg said encouragingly. “And robots can technically get sick, from a digital virus. But I created you to be strong, stronger than I ever will be. You should not have to worry about them.”

P.I.X.A.L. nodded her head to show her understanding. “Then I will go to the exam.”

P.I.X.A.L. didn’t pass on her first try, but Mr Borg told her that it was alright, given that she still did very well considering that she only had the free internet to look for answers to a test she was unprepared for. It was human for her to have failed.

“So why did you send me there with no preparation?” P.I.X.A.L. asked with a shaking voice.

“To prepare you for failure, my dear!” Cyrus Borg said patronisingly. “Since I’ve built you, you’ve been perfect in many, many ways. And that isn’t a bad thing! But life isn’t that simple. You may fail in one way or another in the future because like humans, the circumstances may not be what you desired and plans can fall apart due to errors. What I want you to know is how failure feels like, and I will help you recover from it.”

P.I.X.A.L. nodded. It won’t be long before she faced her first, real big failure.

- Lloyd - The first time she had to really apply those skills that she learnt was when the team had seen Lloyd in the village. After he was pulled out of the ocean because he had to escape from an exploding plane that the Digilord had trapped him on. The locals had wanted to help, but Lloyd wasn’t feeling like having strangers cut him up, so they offered him some basic and outdated medical supplies.

P.I.X.A.L. could see him trying to treat himself and to stay awake, and she could see him hiss as the alcohol drizzled on his wounds.

“LLOYD!” Kai shouted in a tone that conveyed panic. This made the young ultimate spinjitzu master look up from his handiwork and immediately break into a smile. As the team had rushed forward to greet him, P.I.X.A.L. could see that his shoulders were sagging, probably from relief.

“I’m so sorry that I got caught guys,” Lloyd wheezed with an apologetic smile before keeling over, to which Cole caught him with shaking hands.

“Oh god, Zane, quick, do your thing!” Kai panicked even harder, hands jittery as if he was in an internal debate about whether he should do something or not. “I’m trying Kai! I just- my hands keep shaking for some reason!” Zane gritted his teeth in frustration. “I’m gonna run some diagnostics on him” “Okay, Cole, lie him on a flat surface- medic! Medic!” Nya screamed out.

It was at this moment that P.I.X.A.L. knew that was her chance. To repay Zane for his heart. To prove to the team that she was useful. To finally implement her knowledge. Sometimes, she wonders if she’ll ever have what Zane has with the other humans, but for now, she is glad that she can separate her emotions from her work.

“Let me handle it,” P.I.X.A.L. said authoritatively. Running a scan with her own diagnostics, P.I.X.A.L. isolated the most dangerous injuries before telling the group out loud, staring at her apprehensively.

“Master Lloyd has suffered a concussion, lung damage due to smoke inhalation, and fractured bones in his tibia. He also has a sprained ankle and several bones on his upper chest area have several bruises. Luckily, there is no internal bleeding. He also has some first and second-degree burns, but those look like they have been treated by the ocean water. However, he is at risk of hypothermia should he not change out of those clothes. Other cuts and bruises should not be life-threatening as long as we keep the infection away, and-“

“WE GET IT! Can you just PLEASE start treating Lloyd NOW?” Jay shrieked in frustration. P.I.X.A.L. blinked. Oh right, the ninjas are still panicking.

“Apologies, can I have a look at the medical supplies?” Taking a scalpel out of the medical box, P.I.X.A.L. removed Lloyd Garmadon’s shirt and so multiple bruises as well as the look of someone who’s emancipated. It didn’t really make any sense to her, but she supposed that being drained of his elemental powers must have caused some damage.

“To treat his concussion, he needs peace and to rest. I would like if all of you can speak in whispers from now on,” P.I.X.A.L. began. The soup suddenly looked ashamed and guilty, with Jay whispering a soft ‘sorry’.

“To treat his hypothermia, we would need blankets-“

“Why can’t I just warm him up with fire?” Kai cut across. “Well, the extreme heat can damage the skin or, even worse, cause irregular heartbeats so severe that they can cause the heart to stop. However, starting a campfire some meters away could help a little. using this fire, we can make some warm beverages and some food.”

“Just say what we gotta do doc, we’ll listen!” Nya begged swiftly. P.I.X.A.L. thought for a moment, before choosing to sort people out based on their perceived abilities.

“Kai, Jay, Cole, Sensei Wu, and Sensei Garmadon- please look for blankets in the village and start a campfire over there,” Pointing at a spot a satisfactory distance from Lloyd, P.I.X.A.L. continued with giving instructions. “Start making some sort of soup- not too heavy. Zane, Nya- you’re with me.”

Garmadon, who was silent all this time, started to protest. “I cannot leave my son, Pixal.”

“Fine, you may stay and just keep tending to the campfire,” P.I.X.A.L. conceded, not wanting to waste time arguing. There was the matter of fact that the smoke inhaled by Lloyd Garmadon could be fatal, but there was not much that she could do in his location. All she could hope to do was to treat his minor injuries before ensuring that Lloyd is stable enough to go to a hospital in Ninjago. Which would have been impossible, given that the Digilord had control of the city already. What could she do? Maybe there’s an elemental master of the air who could treat Lloyd?

“Pix, do you not have any ideas on how to treat the smoke inhalation?” Zane looked at her with kind and understanding eyes. Pixal nodded, defeated, before preparing a cast. “We need concentrated oxygen and a nose tube or a tube down his throat. Unfortunately, there is nowhere in Ninjago where we can get to such technology.”

Hearing this, Nya immediately perked up. “But we can make them. Zane, do you have any wires that you can spare for a bit?”

“Redirecting power from the right hand,” Zane replied as he opened up his arm to take out a tube. He’s so self-sacrificing. For some strange reason, P.I.X.A.L. felt her heart beating faster. Maybe Zane was nervous? “Nya, if you could please clean this?”

“Of course. HEY KAI!” “Yeah, sis?” Nya was looking at P.I.X.A.L. expectantly. Oh yes. she was supposed to know this, wasn’t she? “Can you get us 10 cups of potable water and 1 cup of vinegar? Also, get some detergent or soap.” “Okay Pix, not gonna question this at all!”

Meanwhile, Nya was using pure H2O to just start blasting the tubing As much as they wanted Lloyd to not die from smoke inhalation, they also didn’t want him to be infected. Speaking of infections…

“Ow!” Lloyd woke up sleepily as Zane used one hand to dab his cuts. Looking sheepish, Zane immediately offered an apology before Nya cuts in and admitting her mistake.

“Go back to Lloyd,” Nya said, petting his hair. Once Kai had returned with the necessary materials, Nya sanitised her hands before delicately cleaning the tube with 10 parts water and 1 part vinegar.

Tightening the wrappings around Lloyd’s ankle, Pixal studied her handiwork. The splint was holding up nicely against Lloyd’s leg, and all the infections on Lloyd’s legs were taken care of. Seeing as Zane is treating Lloyd well enough, P.I.X.A.L. immediately began to start diagnosing Lloyd’s burns before seeing blood flow from Lloyd’s back.

“Oh, dear.” In her hast, P.I.X.A.L. had forgotten to check Lloyd for injuries from behind. Maybe she wasn’t as professional as she thought. There was no other choice. Looking at Zane firmly, they pushed Lloyd onto his side as he gave a pained groan.

P.I.X.A.L.’s mechanical heart sank. Lloyd had a reason for sitting up without any support. There were several pieces of debris stuck to his back, and they were all pushed in due to them lying Lloyd on the desk. Nya looked up from her task in horror.

“I’m so sorry Lloyd, I didn’t know-“ “Nya, please focus on your task,” P.I.X.A.L. cut her off before she could begin crying. She felt bad, but what’s done was done. Blocking Lloyd from’s Nya’s view, P.I.X.A.L. picked up a pair of tweezers before picking up the small pieces. But the large piece of metal stuck in his shoulder blades- Pixal had to cut Lloyd’s skin to get that out. Eyes narrowing, hardening her resolve- P.I.X.A.L. lightly cut Lloyd’s skin using the scalpel before pulling up a long shard of bloodied glass. Picking up some of the unused water, P.I.X.A.L. quickly cleared Lloyd and the flat-surfaced of their blood. Applying pressure to those wounds would be hard from this angle, so after disinfecting the openings, P.I.X.A.L. took several rolls of bandages before tying them around Lloyd’s chest. Not too tightly, that would further bruise his ribs- but tight enough to ensure a sense of security and staunch the oozing bleeding.

“Zane, do you have an oxygen filter?” Nya asked, having been satisfied by the cleanliness of the tubing. Sanitising her metallic hands, P.I.X.AL. heard Zane sigh before declining.

“I do. Mr Borg wanted us to be at least a little environmentally friendly, given that the Nindroids would be using large amounts of energy every day. So I can filter out excess greenhouse gases in the air and store them in their solid form before giving the raw materials back to Borg Industries,” P.I.X.A.L. offered.

“You’re a lifesaver Pix,” Nya said in relief, handing P.I.X.A.L. the tubing. P.I.X.A.L. smiled. She supposed that she actually was. Opening Lloyd Garmadon’s mouth, P.I.X.A.L. inserted the tubing down his throat with NIndroid precision. Connecting the end to her oxygen filter, P.I.X.A.L. adjusted the settings so that she was inputting air composing of at least 60% oxygen into young Garmadon’s lungs.

As Zane finished applying some frost to Lloyd’s burns, the 3 of them stood there and watched as Lloyd breathed in and out.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’ll go find what the guys have been doing,” Nya informed their group. “I too will go into the village, but to ensure that we have permission to stay here for the night,” Zane stated, giving a nod to P.I.X.A.L., before walking away into the dusk, right hand locked and useless.

P.I.X.A.L., knowing that she can’t really move, sat next to Lloyd Garmadon as she watched the campfire grow as shrieks from the ninja team rose. At the end of today, all P.I.X.A.L. wanted to do was to just shut down and recharge. She knows she doesn’t need to know that she had half of Zane’s heart (which just skipped another beat for some unknown reason), but all she wants was a break.

Too bad that being a ninja means that you don’t really get to choose when to stop. P.I.X.A.L. thought to herself.

But at least today, I’ve proved my usefulness. I can repay Zane for his heart.

- Kai - Having been stuck alone, disassembled and scrapped, P.I.X.A.L. found that she really, really missed the Ninja team. She also missed Zane, though he was in a cell next to hers. He’s been offline for such a long time, P.I.X.A.L. had fears that he would never wake up.

But he did. And the ninja had rescued them from Chen. But along the way, they had lost Sensei Garmadon, and the year apart had caused some major issues.

Kai doesn’t know that they’re here. But he shouldn’t be here either after Zane had ordered that everyone go to rest after this long day. Still, the glint of red from his eyes even scared P.I.X.A.L., but she would never tell anyone that. She watched as Kai shredded the bandages he wrapped around his hands by destroying a metal training dummy, before turning around to wrap some more.

“Why is he doing that?” P.I.X.A.L. wondered from inside Zane’s head. Zane started whispering, “He… has some anger issues.”

“I get that Zane, I mean why’s he wrapping his hands in bandages?” P.I.X.A.L. corrected herself. Zane quirked an eyebrow but continued with answering P.I.X.A.L.’s questions. “Well, martial artists wear hand wraps and bandages because they can prevent injuries and improve the power of their punches. Wraps and bandages also protect the martial artist’s skin and soften the impact on hard surfaces.”

“I see,” P.I.X.A.L. stated whilst both of them cringed, as Kai delivered a particularly hard blow to the metallic dummy that Zane was supposed to fight with.

“KAI, PLEASE SHUT UP!” came Jay’s voice from down the corridor, moving closer towards them. Zane and P.I.X.A.L. watched in apprehension as Kai breathed heavily, staring down the metallic dummy before all the tension from his shoulders sagged.

The Nindroids watched as Kai cleaned up the training room and head out to use the bathroom to wash up.

“He’s being too hard on himself for the death of Lloyd’s father,” P.I.X.AL. commented blandly. Zane shifted from his position. “I’m afraid that that’s not the only reason. Do you remember Jay telling us that Kai had almost killed both Lloyd and Skylor using Chen’s staff?” P.I.X.A.L. stayed silent.

Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.

- Jay - It was only a few days after Master Wu had been lost in time. Whilst the Ninja team were recuperating and in shock, Pixal has been remotely using Samurai X to patrol the cities whilst maintaining in the current Ninja’s headquarters- the electronic system of Yang’s temple. P.I.X.AL. had really wanted to go full into Samurai X, but she knew that she could not just desert her teammates at this moment. But there wasn’t much she could do, other than counting reps for Lloyd. (You skipped a number, I know what you’re doing Pix, and I ain’t gonna stop training-) helping Jay prepare breakfast (Jay! The pancakes are burning!) or accompanying Zane as he retrieved bits and pieces from all the fighting. (Someone has to clean up Ninjago city, and I guess that that would be me and Samurai X.)

P.I.X.A.L. knew that she shouldn’t be keeping Samurai X a secret, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt a strange sense of duty, and the ability to finally be on the front lines, fighting the same enemies as Zane. And she wanted some secrets to herself.

Still, it surprised her when Jay had demanded her full attention during one of her free times.

“Hey, umm… Pix? Do you- do you think you could maybe check out my left eye?” Jay stammered whilst twiddling his fingers. Pixal was curious, but she’s already moved to Jay’s laptop. “Why do you ask so? Did your eye get hit sometime recently?”

Jay had flinched at the word ‘hit’, but shook his head at the word ‘recently’. Huh. Maybe it was phantom pains? Still, Pixal had run a diagnostic on it.

“I can’t seem to find any physical abnormalities, but if this is a case of phantom pain, over the counter pain relievers should work.”

Jay nodded whilst his eyes were blank seemingly off to another world or lost in his memories.

“Jay? Jay, can you hear me?” Pixal once again ran a diagnostic scan. It seems that Jay was slipping into dissociation. Dimming the lights in his room as well as all the screens the blue ninja had put into his room. Pixal started playing a calm Ninjago lofi mix from the speaker she was in. She gently called Jay’s name and he slipped back into reality.

“Jay, just take 2 doses of ibuprofen. They’re at the lowest shelf at the kitchen counter. If it hurts again, tell me and we’ll bring you to a professional.”

Jay who was nodding at the instructions froze at the thought of being taken to the hospital. Still, he slid off his bed and made his way downstairs. Pixal filtered through the electronic system of the temple, landing new the smart fridge and watched as Jay swallowed 2 pills dry.

It seemed to create some results because Jay stopped shivering and shaking. Pixal wondered if that was just a placebo or an actual effect. Still, watching Jay’s face relax in bliss, free from whatever pain that was bothering him, Pixal knew that she made the right call.

- Nya - S9, fight with SOG

It had been brutal. Pixal was just treating the training injuries Lloyd had when Skylor came into the noodle house, helping Nya to walk as her left arm dangled without any purpose. Immediately, Pixal stood up and took quick strides, scanning Nya for all her injuries.

“We were getting supplies when a bunch of Harumi’s goons jumped on us, we had to be quick so that none of them could call up for back up, when-“ “When- fuck, when this dude pulled out a fucking gun,” Nya said, pained and heaving as Skylor slowly helped her to sit on the training mat.

“So you were shot?” Lloyd’s voice came from behind Pixal as he took the medkit to the mat. Nya eyes looked everywhere but at him. Gesturing to her limp and bleeding arm, she gave up all her dignity. “Yeah, right here.”

“Okay, Nya, here, take these.” Lloyd handed her 2 tablets of ibuprofen and a cup of water. “W-what? No, I can’t take these!” Nya hissed in pain.

“Yes, you can!” “What if we need them later? What if one of us loses an arm or something happens where we have a worse injury?” “That does not matter, Nya. Look, I’ve been shot in Ninjago city before, I know how it feels.”

Pixal immediately flashes back to the nights where she had to help Lloyd through a computer screen, and her metallic fingers curled up. It was horrible, watching him choking down painkillers before trying to pull the bullet out himself. Never again.

“Nya, it would be alright, just take these- we can always go out to get more,” Pixal tried coaxing Nya to just swallow the pills.

“Take them or I’ll force you to take them, Water Ninja.” Skylor admonished. With the combined strength of their motley crew of 3, Nya hesitantly reached for the medicine, almost choking as she had swallowed too much water at one go.

“Okay, good, now we just need to pull the bullet out,” Lloyd reached into the medkit, pulling out a pair of tweezers. Pixal watched as his hands, fatigued from all the trains, couldn’t stop shaking.

“Wait, Lloyd, let me see if the bullet should be removed at all.” Pixal interrupted, taking a more in-depth scan at Nya’s shoulder. In the meantime, Lloyd started to check through Skylor, who said that he was all clear except for a few knuckle bruises. Of course, Pixal would check on her later, but now she had to make sure that Nya would be alright.

“The bullet has missed your major arteries and it actually isn’t in too deep, possibly because of the protection offered by your suit-“ “Just tell me when you’re gonna remove it!” Nya snapped as her brow furrowed in anticipation. “Well, let’s see… first, we need to remove the clothing around the area of the wound, which-“

“AHH!” Nya shrieked as Pixal twisted and pulled out the bullet without any warning. “Sorry Nya, sometimes fear of a thing could be greater than the actual danger that it poses,” Pixal explained as Nya stared at her with a look that could only scream betrayal.

Dropping the bullet to the ground, Pixal took up some disinfectant and sanitised the area around the entry wound. Nya hissed as Pixal gently presses a cotton gauze to stop the bleeding before finally applying some sort of disinfectant cream. She finished off the wound with a bandage around Nya’s arm, with extra padding using gauze at the point where the wound is at.

“Alright, so now you should not move this arm too much for the next few days, and in the next few weeks, you would not be able to raise it over your shoulder. But in a few months, you can use it again and in a year it would be pretty much healed up so that you may do your weight lifting sessions with- with Cole again…” Pixal said, starting brightly but dropping to a small whisper.

The mood suddenly went from cheery to depressive. “Remember to take lots of rest,” Pixal finished lamely. As Lloyd escorted Nya to the sleeping bags they had gathered, Skylor picked up the bullet Pixal had removed.

“Girl, you were quite mean back there,” Skylor began. “And I think that you’re cool. One problem- the pharmacies have not been able to continue business as normal. All the drugs have to be given to the Sons of Garmadon. In the meantime, all supply chains are disrupted. Over the counter medicine won’t be so easy to find. “

Pixal kept quiet. “Well, I’ll have to keep this bullet as a souvenir for Nya. FSM knows that she deserves this.”

Of course, the bullet would be lost later as they were hunted down throughout the city. But every time Nya changed into her swimsuit, Pixal could see the bullet wound. The scarring left wasn’t pretty, but Pixal thought that the courage Nya showed made her the most beautiful woman she’ll ever have the chance to meet.

- Cole- Cole was alive. Cole was alive!

Pixal watched as the Ninja went into a momentary stop before cheering and becoming more alive. She saw Nya pass the Scythe of Earth to Cole, who promptly swung it into the oncoming Oni. Pixal was trying her best to fend off the Oni herself, but her mind, or rather, motherboard, was spinning really, really fast. How did Cole survive? It should have been impossible!

Pixal heard that Cole justify his survival, stating that the Oni clouds must have broken his fall. He didn’t know how he wasn’t attacked at first, but many tendrils then came to attack him.

Still, this was impossible for Pixal to figure out. Was it because Cole had been a ghost? Maybe it was his elemental power protecting him? Or perhaps it was divine intervention? Either way, Pixal was going o scan him later if there was even a later.

“Watch out!” Pixal saw a blast of green hit the Oni in front of her. I can’t afford to get lost in thought now! Come on Samurai X, focus! She chided to herself.

Yet, as the battle once again turned tides, and the elemental masters got together to do the Tornado of Creation, Pixal watched from her position behind the holding doors to see Lloyd Garmadon get thrown out of the tornado, hitting his head with an earth-shattering crack as he collapsed against the walls of the monastery before debris-covered him.

Frantically approaching him, Pixal saw out of the corner of her eye that the rest of the ninja were left dizzy, exhausted, and possibly some having passed out. That was alright. It was time for her to do her duty anyways.

However, whilst lifting slabs of concrete, Pixal felt her heart drop. The calculated survival rate of the impact sent shivers down Pixal’s circuits as the percentage just kept. Dropping. Lower.

Heaving the last piece of concrete off the young bearer of green power, Pixal heard her teammates rushing into the scene. She could have warned them, said something, said anything. But her joints were frozen in place with something much colder than what her sensors had detected when she went into the Oni cloud.

The motley crew, now only 5, took the last piece of debris off from their teammate.

“Lloyd. Buddy, wake up,” Kai pleaded, desperate. “He-He's not moving!” Nya exclaimed, voice shaking as tears start to form. She looked at Pixal, asking for anything, anything at all. “Someone find Wu. Where’s Wu?” Cole ordered.

In no time, Master Wu arrived and lifted Lloyd’s arm, checking his pulse. He would find nothing there.

“You can do something, right? Right?!” Jay panicked. With a defeated look that Pixal knows is mirrored in her eyes, Wu shook his head and said, “There’s nothing to be done.” Nya finally cries out, sobbing. “Oh, Lloyd!”

PIxal wanted to cry as well, but she never could. When rebuilding her body, she had used the same blueprints that Cyrus Borg had with some upgrades. One thing she didn’t consider adding was the ability to cry because there wasn’t any time. She had to save Lloyd from the vermillion. But what she can’t save Lloyd from, was from an early- early- d… fate.

There’s nothing Pixal could do. And she felt hopeless.

She watched from the corner of her eye as Garmadon backed away from their small group, and in a flash, she felt her wires burning. She couldn’t just let him leave. Not after what he’s done.

Yet, just as she was about to boost straight towards the Oni and tackle him off the mountain, Lloyd started to cough. Lloyd. Started to cough.

Whipping around to see a golden petal float away, she watched the team cheer as Lloyd started to breathe. How- this was impossible! Pixal almost short-circuited from shock. There had been no way! No way! She didn’t even go through all 5 stages of grief yet.

And not too soon, Lloyd woke up from a sleep that she was sure that he never would.

Catching him mumbling something about the First Spinjitzu Master, Pixal smiled. Divine intervention had definitely happened at least once today. The first time being….

“Cole, please come with me to the med bay,” Pixal requested with a smile. Divine intervention or not, five-sixths of the Ninja team knows how to hide a serious injury, and she had to be certain. Cole, who looked shopped, resigned himself and walked with Pixal o the medical centre. For now, she trusted that Zane was doing all the scans that he could to make sure that Lloyd was right in the head, and sought out to take care of her own, albeit selfish, worries.

Scanning Cole on both sides, Pixal noticed a particular bad bruise on Cole’s spine. Yet falling from that height and the fact that Cole isn’t paralysed due to spinal injury made Pixal reaffirm her theories that the First Spinjitsu Master was alive, just in another realm.

“You know, Lloyd might have actually seen the First Spinjitsu Master,” Pixal began, which led Cole to choke on the water he was ordered to drink. “No way, he must have just hit his head hard…”

“I’m sorry Cole, but the injuries you have is comparable to sleeping on a rock hard bed for one night, not falling from a height of 500m, even if your fall was broken by the Oni cloud, you should still have been paralysed,” Pixal explained.

“So God is real and Lloyd’s sharing a fourth of his blood? Neat! Next time tell him to not scare us with a fake-out,” Cole brushed it off.

At this time Pixal was about the shutdown and delve deep into theorising. Lloyd technically had a fourth of his grandfather’s blood and possessed the same power, could he possible have powers that control life and death-

Yet, she watched as a steady stream of Ninja enter the medbay, and resolved her thoughts to her inner GPU. She can think later. For now, she had to make sure that everyone is okay, and everyone will be okay. Even if she threatens Loyd to shave his head so she can get a better look at his skull, to which a chase around the monastery ensued. Her family was alright for now, and the concerning mortality of humans was left deep in the recesses of her mind.

- Zane - Too soon, Pixal had to face her own mortality. Being a Nindroid, her lifespan would naturally be much longer than a Ninja’s. But she still could be erased, dismantled, destroyed, sent to another realm-

The days waiting for the group of 6, not 5, to come back were some of the hardest. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to shut down, lie on her bed and stare into the picture they had taken on their first date, Pixal knew that the team was entrusting her to keep Ninjago safe. Even if it means recapturing escaped convicts. Even if it means fighting the… undead-dead Preeminent (Pixal still hasn’t figured out how she worked). And they had to find ways to reach the Never Realm, by going through different infusions of travellers tea.

Yet, all the waiting and longing was worth it. Pixal prefers a Zane stuck in another realm for 40 years as to no Zane. There was no other choice. Yet, as she sees her loved ones trudging out of the frosty realm, some of them had worst frost bites than others. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to smother Zane in a hug, she can see the edges of Lloyd’s skin turning a deep, dark black. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Nya taking care of Cole whilst Jay and Kai attempt to remove the ice from everyone else, including lubricating Zane’s frosted joins. She had not a single moment to lose. This kind of frostbite was not exactly lethal immediately, but losing limbs could mean the end of Lloyd’s ninja career. So calling everyone to attention, she went all in to salvaging Lloyd’s limbs, doing everything she could.

Later that night, Pixal spotted Zane wandering around the outskirts of the monastery whilst the Ninja finish up dinner. She watched as Zane’s hands gripped the staff so tight that the wood would be snapping in 3…2…1.

A harsh crack and splinters flying out later, Pixal could see the shaking in Zane’s hands as he cursed, something that the Zane she knew never would.

For her, it had been a hellish week. But for Zane? It must have been a hellish 40 years.

“…Zane?” Pixal called out from the monastery doors. Zane immediately whipped around before pointing the tip of the staff towards her, to which Pixal reflectively grabbed. Zane, eyes widening in shock and horror, immediately released his grip on the now shorter staff, before turning around, trying to run away. Pixal won’t let that happen.

“Zane,” Pixal said once again, hand now gripping onto the collar of Zane’s Gi. “Please don’t run away from me.”

Zane, froze, hands twitching before dropping them to his side. Pixal released her grip before tapping Zane on the shoulder, asking him to turn around.

“Pixal, I’m- I’m sorry…I just can’t- I can’t trust myself right now,” Zane vented out hands fidgeting with each other. Pixal smiled sadly. She knew that not everything could go back to normal so fast, but still, she had hoped that it would have been easier than this. “If you don’t trust yourself right now, why not spend some time with me?”

“Pixal- I…I could hurt you-“ “Yes you can, but don’t think that I can’t protect myself,” Pixal snapped back whilst carefully reaching to hold Zane’s hands. Once she made contact, Zane flinched back, before slowly reciprocating the action. “C’mon Zane, let’s go back into the monastery-“

“No!” Zane protested, wrenching Pixal back. Pixal clasped her other hand on top of Zane’s. “Not to the dining room. I’m thinking med bay.”

Pixal could see Zane’s processing unit cycle through his thoughts, noticing that it had considerable frost damage. Before long, Zane nodded his head, allowing Pixal to pull him into the light.

Opening the cupboards, Pixal took out a few rolls of bandages before carefully wrapping them around Zane’s hands. The ice ninja watched with curiosity as Pixal carefully finished tying and tightening the strips of cloth.

“Why are you doing this? You and I both know that Nindroids don’t need bandages,” Zane asked. Pixal smiled, looking at Zane’s now steadier hands. “Maybe bandages can’t fix our metal skin, but it still makes us feel better.”

Zane paused, looking down at his hands. “I don’t know how you’re right PIx, but they do make me feel more sure that my powers won’t hurt anyone accidentally. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s get back to dinner, we have some desserts to bring out.”

Bandages. As much as PIxal uses them and finds them efficient, she can’t help but hope that team doesn’t need to use as many. But this time, t’s just a trip to a legendary city full of peace and prosperity. Maybe this time, Pixal doesn’t need to bandage their wounds away.

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years ago

Note

congrats you angel, you deserve all the love and praise for your writing bc holy shit you’re so talented!!! for the soulmate au celebration, i’m thinking either javi or jack (your choice bc i can’t choose) with the soulmate goose of enforcement au 💕 ik it’s a bizarre au but the potential for chaos is insane 😂 anyways ily and i hope you’re having a great day honey

...not me, having JUST reread your javi/jack fic, considering both... definitely me

Anyway, thank you, jj, you absolute gem of a human. I swear I had to turn up the fan reading this I got so flustered. I hope you have a great day too! And I hope you enjoy- I had to do a little research, and made it shorter than I wanted to, so hopefully it fills your chaos cup still! (You'll understand, and hopefully forgive my delay when you see what's under the cut :) )

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: strong language, lil angst with happy endings all around. mild menace meeting menace shenanigans

Okay this is written as pt 1 Jav, pt 1 Jack, pt 2 Jav, pt 2 Jack, bonus pt 3. If you’re only in it for one of the boys, it makes reading a bit weird, but I liked the format for the whole thing. Sorry!

Javier wanted to hit it with a bat. Or a car. Or anything. All that mattered is that maybe then it would leave him the fuck alone. Of all the stupid, infuriating, ridiculous guides the universe could have given him to find his other half, he was sure this was the worst. Rumor was, he couldn't even kill it if he tried.

It's not that he didn't want to find his soulmate, but he... well, he didn't want to find his soulmate.

There were all sorts of excuses to spout - work, obviously a priority, inconvenience, not wanting to give up his way of life. Not to mention following a damn goose was an impossible task, plus the fact that the stupid thing didn't even like him.

It would appear seemingly at random, honking insistently or flapping erratically, and then be gone before anyone else could bat an eye. To say that he had become increasingly irritated would have been a huge understatement.

The truth of it was that Javier was afraid. No one in the world liked to feel like they were being controlled. People liked to know what was going on, and this just didn't fit the bill. He didn't like that he didn't know you, couldn't be chosen, by you.

His life was already complicated enough - messy enough - that a soulmate would only make it worse. He had made it this long, this far without needing one, so he was fine without, thank you very much. Even to himself, his lie sounded okay.

It was hard to face, the idea that there was someone out there, a relationship that he couldn't have control over. And someone who would love him unconditionally? Terrifying.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to do nothing, because it seemed like every direction he turned there was a goose from hell wreaking havoc on his life.

They had reached an impasse - glowering at each other as it had planted itself in front of his door. Little feet pacing angrily, unreasonably long neck, all of it was just begging to be kicked. Except, for all he was a seasoned DEA agent, Javier was almost afraid the thing could go a few rounds with him. Feet shuffling uneasily, his hand twitched for his gun, even though he knew he couldn’t, wouldn’t shoot.

It was stupid to have a staring contest with a goose. And even more stupid that the goose won .

Javier turned away, spitting spanish curses in a stream that would make his mama smack him. Maybe it wasn't too late to find a hookup he could use to crash, he was thinking, and that thought was apparently the final straw. The goose reappeared in front of him.

Hissing.

More curses, a quick turn on his heel. This time, it didn't move in front of him, it left a sharp peck on his calf, before dodging his kick.

It was herding him, against his will, to you.

When he saw the goose, Jack thought he was delirious. The Statesman lab must've screwed something up because he'd seen that horrible, wonderful, stupid goose once before, in another life.

And he never, ever thought he'd see it again.

He did a lot of thinking, that night and the next day and the next. Strangely, he did a lot of feeling, too, noticing how light his shoulders felt, how kind the ache on his heart had become. He visited their grave, pressed his forehead to the headstone, and breathed some deep breaths.

And when he saw the goose again, he lassoed it.

It wouldn't have died even if it was powered up, but he didn't take the chance, determination and longing filling his being like blood, pumping through his heart to each and every part of him.

Miracle of miracles, it let him, with all the glare a bird could give. Knees only making small pops, Jack settled on his heels, looking at it sternly.

"Can you take me to them?"

The expression on it's tiny, smug face didn't change, but it also didn't disappear to free itself, so he waited.

And he waited. And waited. And eventually, watching it with half an eye, he grabbed a doughnut and offered it to the stupid soulmate goose god.

It considered the doughnut, pecked it as Jack yanked his fingers out of reach, and apparently accepted. After it was finished, it began to tug him along, waddling on its makeshift leash as Jack's heart leapt into his throat. He grabbed the bag of doughnuts and his hat before getting dragged along, to you.

At his very core, Javier was a man driven by his personal sense of justice. Being herded by an immortal goose of mischief was unfair, it made no sense that he had to find you, somehow needed more, and wasn't allowed to choose. It pecked and honked and bullied him all the way to a crowded bar, which was a perfect example.

Just as he was thinking, trying to convince himself he would've come here on his own, it disappeared again and he sighed.

He needed a drink. And, he needed to make some of his own goddamn decisions. Defiance and determination, he told himself. Not stubbornness. There was nothing to prove, it was just defiance and determination, to take his fate into his own hands and make his own choices. And if he was going to do that, he wanted to look for someone who wasn't an informant or a one night stand. His gut was looking for someone he could pull to his side and to show the universe that the goose was right to give up on him.

You were a perfect fit. Slightly disgruntled for whatever reason, even through the crowd he could see the faint, telltale wrinkles of someone just as... determined as he was. Shoulders held the same defiance he was so proud of, and he would be lying if he wasn't physically drawn to you as well. The inconsistent lighting could make anyone look good if you wanted it enough, but you... were something else.

There was a line of pink neon reflection from the top of your ear, across your cheekbone, and just grazing the line of your upper lip as you looked thoughtfully at something he couldn't see. Javier thought he wouldn't mind tracing that path with his fingers, and then maybe his own mouth, and his feet were already carrying him to you to look for an open door. The rest of your form came into view, and Javier noticed the bass of the music was turned up a little bit more than necessary- he could feel it thumping in his bones.

Talking to you went smoother than maybe it ever had before. You seemed resigned, at first, which was a reaction that caught him off guard, and that combined with the weariness of his week, making him unusually candid. In turn, you opened up to him like a flower turning towards the sun, fun and thoughtful and refreshing.

He liked the way you laughed when his lines came out a little awkwardly - open and appreciative, and it made his chest puff out a little. He liked the way you spoke, too. There was kindness and romance in your soul, just whispering at the edges of the words, and while he didn’t pick up on that, per se, they made him feel special, handsome, worthy, but also trusted and comfortable and safe. Neither of you noticed at first, that you had shuffled into a quiet corner of the bar, that his body had moved close, a gentle shield boxing the two of you into your own little world.

When the question came - what brought you here, anyway? - he found himself answering honestly about half being led by his guide, then wanting to make his own path. His confidence faltered at your quiet laugh. His heart ached. A glance at the clock told him it had been two hours since he'd found you, and already he wanted to... choose you. To have you choose him.

He felt stupid that he had confessed so soon, but...

Oh, you were kissing him. There were hands shooting off sparks into his soul against his chest and his jaw and you were kissing him. Javier kissed you back.

When you pulled away, his mouth chased yours, not ready to give up the contact so soon, but you stopped him, laughing again.

"I have a confession," you whispered, and he paused.

“My guide led me here, too. I thought when it gave up on me when I saw you,” your next kiss was more chaste, “I think we got tricked.” Noticing he liked the feel of you in his arms, even if he didn’t remember pulling you there, he tightened his hold.

Javier felt light, understanding your laughter, and blissfully unafraid. “No,” he said, knowing already you’d understand him.

“I chose you.”

Jack was running out of doughnuts. It was easier, safer to have the dumb bird half hog-tied, but he still didn’t feel any closer to you, just halfway across town. He dug in his boots and sunk onto a bench, yanking the goose to a stop, too annoyed to beg for a break.

He wasn’t giving up and running away, absolutely not, he was just... running out of options. Or, doughnuts. And breath. If this pace kept up, he wouldn’t be able to tell you all the things he had planned out in his head.

Eyelids closing against the southern sun, he let out a long, slow sigh. His heart was still racing, and he wondered if he was really as ready as he wanted to be, to meet his next soulmate. A sturdier inhale grounded him. He was ready, he knew he was. Whoever you were, you had to have the patience of a saint - it would be alright, he just needed a breath. The ground under his boots was sturdy, the breeze over his skin cooling, and the goose was mercifully quiet.

“That’s one strange lookin dog you have there, cowboy,” The voice was teasing, but not malicious, and he grinned, eyes still closed.

“She’s a purebred,” he replied, and he heard a huff of laughter like the first few notes of music. Waiting for your footsteps to carry you away, he savored the moment, feeling silly as he hoped his soulmate would like to laugh as much as he did.

There was a weight on the other side of the bench, and he wondered at it, as you said, “Want to talk about it?” His smile was softer, this time, intrigued by the moment, but not wanting to be tempted into flirting, not when his soulmate was on the horizon.

“Nothin to tell,” he replied, feeling suddenly strange. Jack opened his eyes, looking at the rope in his hands, feeling the fibers run through his fingers. “Just a free range chicken... taking a break from tryin to chase down my second soulmate.” He winced, definitely not wanting to look at you, after the second had slipped out.

It wasn’t judging, though, the voice that said, “You seem like you want to talk about it.”

For once in his life, Jack didn’t know what to say, slipping off his hat to run his fingers through his hair before replacing it. He heard your half-laugh again, and it felt refreshing, like sweet tea on a southern summer day.

“Okay,” you said, and he heard amusement this time, like you had something to say, some thought you were chewing on.

Then, there was that terrible honk of the goose, not from his feet, but from where, assumedly, you were. Snapping his gaze to the other side of his bench, he saw a sight for sore eyes, half backlit, glowing like something he never thought he’d see.

There was an indignant goose in a cage at your ankles, now making grumbling bird noises in indignant conversation with the one at the end of his lasso.

“I thought you were never gonna look at me,” Your arm was across the back of the bench as you grinned at dynamite smile at him.

Jack returned it, feeling bashful and eager, dropping the rope to grab your closest hand.

“I promise I aint making that mistake again, sugar.”

bonus ending:

Jack was clinging to your hand, grinning like a fool as you introduced yourselves, when another movement caught his eye. There was a man, walking up behind you, a resigned look on his face. Whiskey’s hackles should have been all the way up, yanking you into his arms at the way this man was approaching you, but instead he was dumbfounded for the second time that day.

He was backlit, too, with shoulders that carried as much weight as the man in his mirror every morning, and he could see the shape of a gun as he knelt next to his soulmate. The stranger’s eyes when they looked at you... were as adoring as he was sure his must have been, a moment before, and he was familiar with you, like you’d known each other before now. Jack wanted to swallow, but his heart felt like it was in his throat, beating like he’d gone a round with a bull at the rodeo.

“This is probably a lot,” Javier said, taking you other hand and quirking an eyebrow. The geese made some loud, obnoxious noises and he looked at them appreciatively. “I wish I had thought of that,” he gestured at the lasso, and you smiled at him.

“This is Javier,” you said, and you let go of them both to stand up and brush yourself off. Warm hands and strong grips were exchanged, and you watched them curiously as they shook, murmuring names and titles again. They were sizing each other up, certainly, but you felt a rush of relief as you saw a familiar spark of attraction in Javi’s eyes.

“You got any more surprises for us, then?” you looked up at the cowboy, confused, only to realize he wasn’t talking to you. The goose in your cage was free halfway down the walk, the one in the lasso hissed. The poor man had been an RV in an earthquake and come out the other side overwhelmed and happy, of all things, but there wasn’t much more he could handle. To your surprise, he grabbed a crumbled paper bag and tossed the contents to the bird, before it gave a final honk, and waddled after it’s friend.

“I guess that’s a no,” you said, suddenly shy at the fullness in your heart.

“That’s alright,” Jack picked up his lasso, before looking at you and Javier, his eyes happy, and glinting with something stronger. “I think this is more than enough.”

And you agreed.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179

for whiskey:

@0celestialbitch0

#why am I like this #did this get away from me?#yes #absolutely #soulmate requests #soulmate goose of enforcement #Javier Peña x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #jack x you x javier #i guess thats a thing now #on this blog #don't ask me to write a part two or i swear #i'll probably do it #maybe i don't know people #also im a touch delirious sorry if this is as much of a fever dream for you as it is for me

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mintyfrosty · 4 years ago

Text

A Prince’s Guide To Reading

"Right?"

Ah, his name.

At least the one he preferred people to use for him.

The guard of the Toppat prince turned his gaze up from the door he had his eyes pinned on, studying the engravings of the wood to try and pass the time. He had to admit, being the prince's guard could be dull, since said prince seemed to take much gratitude in working within a quiet environment. Right didn't mind, of course. Then again, the commoner didn't exactly have a choice either way with what he thought or not. As if he had a choice. He didn't; that was the truth. It had been like that for the month he had found himself being the prince's care. Er, at least he thought it had been a month? Time was a bit weird in the castle. Every day seemed the same.

That wasn't to say he found it unpleasant, however.

Their eyes connected, the guard's gaze quickly descending straight after, since it was discourteous for a royal and a commoner to share a glimpse of their eyes. Well, he wasn't sure on that, but Prince Reginald had acquainted him of such. And he trusted him; a terrifying amount. And Right didn't want to get a stern talking from the king about this, that and something else. Despite clearing his throat before he spoke, Right's voice came up as hoarse and uneven like it always did. "Yes, yer 'ighness?"

Allowing his hand to rest, the royal put the quill in his hand down to table, slightly rubbing it as the chains of writing broke free. Putting his hand through so much work was unhealthy to his muscles and bones. However, much like the commoner, the prince didn't have a choice. Not since 20 years ago when the Toppat Kingdom fell under Terrence's rule. Not the time to think about, he scolded himself, bringing both of his hands down to his lap. He could at least say, however, it was flattering on how the guard put so much effort into trying to learn the mannerism that seemed impossible to understand.

"I wanted to ask you..." Started the prince, bringing himself to standing and tucking his chair into the table that sat peacefully in the halls of the library. "Do you-- know how to read and write?"

...

That came off as slightly insulting. But, unfortunately, forgivable to ask.

Crimson rose to the peasant's ears, gaze crunching as he examined the tile grooving on the floor, trying to, pathetically, hide his embarrassment. The prince was entitled to ask such a question; he was the prince for God's sake. It wasn't uncommon for a commoner such as himself to be illiterate. Many didn't have the money to claim the opportunity to educate themselves. It wouldn't be embarrassing if he said 'no', would it? Because, well, he just didn't.

He was a peasant.

A filthy one at that.

"Nah-- I mean-- No. No, I don't." Forced words of respect came out of the guard, slightly gritting his teeth with frustration as he let his accent slip his words into slang. Ugh. He hated trying to keep up with these stupid mannerisms. It was all so confusing. How the hell was he supposed to remember how to use three forks at a dinner table, wait to speak until spoken to AND not let himself slip into his comfortable language of slang? And that wasn't even the full list. "Er-- w'y do ya ask?"

"Well..." Without finishing the answer, the prince's feet waltzed over to one of the hundred books that decorated the library walls. Gloved hands met the cover a soft covered book; a light read. From where he was standing, Reginald waved an inviting hand towards the guard, taking a seat on the couch that was adjacent to the fireplace which crackled calmly. Swallowing the anxiety lodged in his throat, Right's brash footsteps pounded towards the prince, boots sounded like a wrecking ball hitting concrete. Maybe that was due to his mass. He didn't have a mind to care. With the guard now near him, the royal patted the seat lightly next to him, a smile meeting his face. "...if you can't, I'd like to teach you how to read!"

...

Wh-What?

The crimson turned a shade of magenta, spreading like a virus across his cheek and nose. Teach him? Teach him how to read? But why? Didn't the prince already have his hands full? His gaze fell over to the task assigned to Reginald, surprised to see a perfectly piled stack of scrolls. Was he finished? Wow, that was fast then. Incredibly fast. Eventually, however, the guard let his gaze fall back to the prince, eyes focused on the book in his hands rather than the blue sapphires that dotted his pupils. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, pulling on his collar to let more airflow through his clothing.

In all fairness, he didn't believe he deserved such a privilege.

Being literate was seen as such an honour; only the noblemen and royalty got the joy of being able to read and write. And that same offer to him? Definitely out of the question. He, well, he didn't believe he was worthy of such a gift. However, he most certainly didn't want to make the prince upset over the matter; maybe he could blame it on something. Something like: "Er-- I...Would we 'ave the time? With supper happening soon?"

"Oh, nonsense! We've got a few hours! Two! That's enough, I'm sure of it! You're a quick learner, you know!" It only occurred to Reginald that there was a big difference between the prince wanting to teach him how to read and Right actually wanting to learn how to perform such an act. A quick sound of hesitation came from the prince, excitement in his tone dying as his shoulders fell to his sides. "Of course...only if you'd allow me."

Oh, God. He couldn't refuse now.

Because yes, despite reading being hard to master, Right couldn't be more excited about the offer, yet nothing on his face implied so. Lost on the prince's words, the guard nodded with certainty, holding his hands up and shaking them slightly. "Na- No-- I'd be t' rilled ta learn, ya majesty--"

Dammit, he was committed to it now. No going back. Just be on high alert.

Although the guard took a hesitant seat on his side, the prince couldn't be more excited, a large grin dotted his face gently. Reginald opened the book to the first page, their shoulders touching as he held the left side of the cover, gesturing for Right to take the opposing side. Trapped by anxiety, the guard's breath wouldn't come out of his throat, numbly grabbed ahold with his right hand to open the book. Foreign symbols came into his vision when it was a simple text of English. Jesus, how was going to learn this? He didn't understand any of it. He couldn't learn how to read-- this was dumb-- this was stupid. "Alright...let's start at the beginning..."

Gently, the prince's voice hit his ears, voice brimming with excitement.

...Sigh.

Guess he didn't have a choice.

But, at least, this was better than staring at the door engravement all damn day, waiting for something that would never happen.

The story Reginald had picked out was something about a girl from a village. An oddball herself; she knew how to read. How ironic. Then one day her father got kidnapped at an old castle that belonged to a cursed prince that had turned into a beast. And to save her father's life, traded herself to be the beast's prisoner. But, interestingly, the two fell in love and the curse on the prince was broken.

Huh.

What an odd tale. Granted, probably one of the first that Right had ever heard of but...still so odd.

The prince went slow with the words from the text, running his finger under words and pronouncing them slowly, teaching him what letters made what sounds. Vowels were undoubtedly the hardest; some words could have two of the same vowel yet make different sounds. Of course, he'd been speaking the language his whole life but...now it was different. He could physically see how goddamn confusing the English language was. By the time they got to Chapter 3, an hour had passed, the prince looking up to the guard brightly. "Alright, your turn!"

Right blinked.

...

"...you know...your turn to read!"

...

H-Huh? "Eh?" He couldn't. "I can't--"

"Of course, you can!" Cheered Reginald, the prince moving his gloved hand to underneath the first word, written beautifully in ink. Calligraphy made it hard to discern which letter was which. Gaining his breath back from swallowing the anxiety lodged in his throat, the guard gritting his teeth, a crimson colour rising to his ears slightly out of embarrassment.

"Er-- I still don't get a lot of it--"

"That's okay! I'll help you along the way! It'll be fine, just watch!" No matter how much he tried to stop himself, he couldn't help that redness from his ears spreading to his face in a blush. Dammit. The prince's excitement was contagious; spreading and capturing his heart like some sort of plague. It made him want to try and complete this mission he was destined to fail at. He'd been learning to read for no less than an hour, and now he was going to read on his own? Seemed impossible. But that darn smile was enough to make him want to. Want to try. Want to learn.

Okay. He could try.

Hopefully.

"Er-- alright--"

It was slow. Painfully slow.

The commoner needed more help from the prince than he could read words on his own. Nevertheless, successful. Very slow, but steady, gently drifting his voice across the paper to bring meaning to the written dialogue. Even if he made mistakes and made a fool of himself, he was still having fun. The prince was encouraging, giving him compliments and words of pride at when he could read a full sentence on his own. It was...touching, dramatically so. Crimson on his face turned to a soft, pastel magenta, taking comfort in the royal's presence instead of being on edge. Yes, it was technically not allowed for the two to be so close, despite having their shoulders touching, but the commoner didn't care.

The king and noblemen of the kingdom were still ignorant of the idea that Right had met the prince before the assassin outbreak. Heh; funny that the commoner was just coming for a visit but ended up being roped to be his guard. All because he saved the royal's life in an alleyway.

How curious...

However, it led to one problem; his guard was down. He got too complacent.

Find their shoulders sitting side by side was getting a little too uncomfortable, the commoner raised his, moving closer, then wrapping it around the prince's shoulders. There. Nice and comfy. If the feeling of the royal's muscles tense up hadn't occurred, he would've stayed there and continued. But, of course, life wasn't kind to anyone. Dread settled in his heart, abruptly stopping mid-sentence and pushing himself away and standing. Why did he do that? WHY did he do that!? WHYDIDHEDOTHAT?!

"I-I'm so sorry-- I don't know wot came o'er me!" Stamped the commoner, raising his hands and shaking them as if it were some kind of defence. God-- the king would have his head for this. What was he thinking!? Just, ya know, causally wrap your filthy, peasant arm around the shoulders of the prince of the Toppat Kingdom! No stress! Not one ounce of it! Dammit- Dammit- DAMMIT--

"I-t won't 'appen again-- I was just-- I-- I just--"

"Woah-- Woah! Hey, it's okay, Right!" Exclaimed the prince, quickly rising out of his seat and taking a firm grasp of his hand. Right, still scrambling to find something to say, looked down at their hands, caramel eyes finally connecting with the azure blue pupils that belonged to the prince's eyes. They were holding hands--

This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong.

A commoner shouldn't have been that close to a prince; let alone even within one meter of him. But to wrap his ARMS around his shoulder!? What was he thinking!? What was he doing?!

Shakily, he exhaled, not making any movement to return the grasp to his hand.

"Jesus-- I'm sorry I-- I just--" Stuck on his sentence, the guard brought his free hand to his face to try and conceal the growing magenta colour that lingered there.

"Just-- this 'ole thin' 'f not knowin' ya. And 'avin' to act like I ain't got a clue who you are or 'o you are aside from all the duties ya got stacked up--- it's kind of-- it's so frustratin'. 'Cause, yer know, ya funny and ya kind-- and ya got this presence about ya. And 've gotta act all manners and other bullshit-- I can't even just sit by ya witho't worryin' that 'm gonna get my head chopped off or you worryin' about 'dis stupid code-- JUST--" The commoner let out a grunt, bringing the hand on his face to his hair, tugging it slightly.

"It-It's just-- I wanna han' out wit' ya-- but-- we just can't. And it drives me bonkers."

A deadly silence filled the room as the commoner let weeks worth of venting material, catching the prince by an immense surprise. Of course, a faint colour of rose pink painted over his cheeks at the brief compliments, but nothing could stop or control the sudden frown forming on his face. In a way, the prince was dreading this. The lack of personal freedom for the guard was probably doing his head in, and the fact that he and the commoner knew each other beforehand probably made the situation much much worse for him. Even if Reginald had nothing to do with it (even though he had everything to do with it), he couldn't help but feel pity. He hadn't had freedom his whole life and, whilst he'd grown used to it, it was terrible in the beginning. Difficult, in other words.

Sympathetically, Reginald raised his free hand toward Right's that clutched against his hair, pulling it down from his face.

"Right...I'm okay-- I should be sorry I'm--" The prince let out a muffled sigh. "Y-Yes...I understand. This whole matter is aggravating. And I do want to spend time with you too! Believe me, I do. Heh, kind of why I asked to teach you to read. It's just-- I'm sorry I...I'm not used to this whole...' being close to someone' thing if you get what I mean? I've never met a commoner before you. And even then, there's all these rules and orders. And yet, you seem so nice and friendly compared to what I've been told what commoners are like. What I'm trying to say is...I'm sorry for my reaction with your arm-- I'm just-- following what I've been told to do."

...

An apology?

Jesus--

Reginald had to be the pure heartiest prince he had ever met if HE was apologising for a reaction that Right caused. In a way, it made his blood completely fire, bringing a low scowl to his face. It made the whole situation worse when you considered how the prince was treated by the king. Like garbage, that's what. And even then, Reginald put himself second to Right, considering his comfort to be more important than his own. Dammit-- that colour was rising back to his face, stifling a cough that rose to his throat.

The guard let out some sort of chuckle. "Heh-- we're both tryna follow rules 'ere-- Ehehe--"

Right didn't laugh a lot, but when Reginald heard it, it filled his heart up. A small smile itself met his lips, sharing his laughter. And only for an impossibly short amount of time, the prince's eyes shot purple, but far too quick for anyone to take note of it. They were both kind of messes; wanting to talk and laugh and NOT do something royalty related. The prince held up a hand. "Okay-- Okay. How about this. If I finish tomorrow and we have enough spare time, do you...want to spend that time finishing this book with me? To 'hang out', as you called it. We'll go out to the gardens; where no one can find us."

...

A smile met the guard's lips, putting a hand to his chest and bowing slightly.

"It would be ma greatest 'onour, my prince." ~~~XxX~~~ MEDIEVAL AU FLUFF BOYSSS!!

Thank you so much for reading this fanfic!!

For those wondering, this takes place in the transitional period between Right’s arrival and Galeforce’s arrival x3

Also, yes I know that Beauty and The Beast didn’t exist yet but shh its cute

Oki have doodle!

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apparitionism · 4 years ago

Text

Why 3

Nearer and nearer this story creeps to its conclusion, and thus to that not-so-distant future day when @mysensitiveside will have received a complete present! Previously, in part 1 of this AU, a Myka Bering adopted a dog. That dog, unfortunately or fortunately, in fact already belonged to a Helena Wells. Myka and Helena, initially strangers to each other, have been walking the dog together, growing intermittently closer in the process, and they are at last, following the events of part 2, about to take a step toward something beyond the pedestrian. Let’s see how that goes.

Why 3

Later, in the parking lot, “You’re sure this is okay?” Myka asked as they began exchanging tangible, traceable information: numbers, addresses. They lived closer to each other than Myka had imagined, which made what Sam had done seem even more brazen... even more terrible. “I don’t want to make you feel like you—”

Helena looked up from her phone. “What exactly will convince you?”

“Convince me of what?” A stupid question; she knew it the minute she said the words.

But Helena again took pity on her. She put her phone in her pocket, and she moved close to Myka, then closer. “I’m not confused,” she said. Their coats were touching. “Are you?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

In response to that, Helena just looked. Did she blink? She leaned up still closer, a delicate, careful movement of body, accompanied by a turn of her head not quite against the collar of Myka’s coat.

Not a kiss, but the potential shiver of one... a “lean down and you’ll find out” feeling...

Myka was still high on the first kiss, not quite ready to dilute it with a second. “Tuesday?” she asked, and “Tuesday,” Helena affirmed, remaining near.

“I like this,” Myka said, and it might have been a warning—to herself and to Helena.

“I’m glad,” Helena said, a comfort against the caution.

I will see them three days from now, Myka told herself as Helena drove away, her dog buckled safely into his harness in the back seat. Myka had a similar harness, limp and empty, in the back seat of her own car.

I know what it’s like to see him without a week having passed. I have no idea what it’s like to see her.

How long could three days feel?

Long enough to make her tell herself, on Sunday, “You should cancel.” Because she hadn’t slept. Instead she spent open-eyed hours retreading her limited romantic past: college boyfriend, who lasted all of one semester; grad school girlfriend, who lasted longer, but only because they rarely saw each other, and when they did, they were too exhausted from long, long lab days and nights to do much of anything but share a cheap meal and go to bed. Nevertheless their breakup blindsided Myka, who expected reasons but received nothing more from her suddenly ex-girlfriend than “I was into it; now I’m not.”

Since then, the occasional night with another lonely chemist at a conference had been the extent of it. That was what Myka figured she would always be most comfortable with: no entanglements, no consequences. No nerve-wracking anticipations.

Tuesday was consequential, with accompanying nerve-wracking anticipation. Hence, “You should cancel.”

Entanglements. Leuko had been one, but he at least had been very clear. Food, walks, baths. Obviously Myka’s emotions had been involved, but it wasn’t as if Leuko was going to do anything to blindside her.

Except bark at someone.

In his defense, she conceded, he had a pretty compelling reason.

So what about cancelling? Myka knew why she wanted to. Why didn’t she want to?

I like walking with her in the park.

Everything she says about herself makes me want to know more.

She is physically more attractive than anyone I’ve ever seen in my life.

Kissing her one time made me wish I had keys to a castle, so I could give them to her.

On a parallel track, there was Leuko. Monty. The idea of interacting with him in his real home felt wrong—but the kind of wrong that could one day become right. Like seeing his leash in Helena’s hand.

Would I have been willing to keep walking in the park if she hadn’t been the one walking him?

Impossible to know. Traitorous to consider an answer of no.

And would I have felt that I could walk in a park with her in the absence of him?

Also impossible to know. Not traitorous to consider an answer of no, but surely cowardly.

So in the interest of at least a facsimile of courage, Myka spent some time pondering yet another question: What do you wear to watch a dog show with your ex-dog and his person, who might be your... well, who could say? Certainly not Myka. She landed on “clothes.” Just wear clothes. Because her ex-dog wouldn’t care, and if his person did—well, that would tell her something, wouldn’t it?

Knocking on a door on Tuesday night, clothed in clothes, she was a mixture of trepidation and, yes, hope.

“Come in!” Helena called, so Myka did. To her surprise, she was received into the house by Montgomery Clift. She’d found, over her days of thinking, that it was easier to call him that in her head; its length and formality kept her from slipping and thinking “Leuko.” Mr. Clift then escorted her down a hallway and into a large living space. “Are you a butler now?” she asked him.

He blinked. It meant either “Of course not” or “I am the most perfect butler who ever buttled,” and Myka said, “You’re right,” in answer to both.

Helena appeared a second later, and Myka held out the gifts she’d brought: wine in one hand, a paper bag in the other. They had cost her far less pondering-time than the clothes had, though she hadn’t realized that at the time, and that probably meant something, though Myka could not think it through now, not with Helena standing right there in front of her. Myka could barely think at all. Instead, she tried to explain: “I thought at first I should bring you something related to writing—a pretty pen?—but then I figured a writer wouldn’t be any less picky about equipment than a chemist, and I’d hate it if some well-meaning person gave me for example a pipettor I’d never use. Nobody would do that, because they’re insanely expensive, but that’s why you’re getting a boring bottle of wine. I brought this”—she extended the bag—“for Monty.”

Helena had gazed at her throughout that recitation, and Myka had in turn felt herself prolonging it, to keep those attentive eyes on her. Now Helena said, “You’ve gifted him...” She took the bag, looked in it. “Several corn tortillas?”

“Fresh ones. He likes them.”

“I didn’t know it.”

Which, Myka had to acknowledge, made her happy. But it was a selfish happiness, so she said, “I didn’t intend to know something you don’t. It was an accident: he was hungry, and that was what I had. And then when I bought fresh, they turned out to be his favorite.”

Helena said, to Montgomery Clift, “More favorite than cheese?”

He failed to respond, most likely due to his laser focus on the now-open tortilla bag. Myka offered, “Probably depends on the cheese.”

“It’s true he is discerning.” Helena paused. “So am I.”

Myka’s nerves, which had ebbed, returned—not fully, but as a vague itch of discomfort. “You don’t need to...” she started.

“What don’t I need to?”

“Try? Like that. Like any way at all.” For it was when Helena tried—as she had in the park, with her “so are you” about prettiness—that Myka lost her bearings.

“I don’t know where you are,” Helena said. Such a reasonable justification: of course she would try, if she wanted to move Myka to some particular place, some place she felt Myka was not.

“Here,” Myka said, but it was a yearn—to get closer to where Helena might have imagined she, and they, could be—rather than the truth. She needed to tell the truth, though: “Or at least I’m trying to be.”

“You don’t need to try either,” Helena said, her tone a balm. “Let’s start by getting to know each other better. I hope that’s what this evening is for.”

“I hope too.” Myka had never said anything more true. “I don’t like that I know your dog better than I know you. I regret it.” But, “Sorry,” she said to the soft butler-or-not who looked up at her, blinking wounded eyes. Or more likely, he was blinking tortilla-wanting eyes.

“We need to remedy that. Or rather, I want to remedy that, and I think you do as well. As I said, I’m not confused.”

“As I said, I am.” Important to be clear about that.

“Tell me why.”

Oh, the invitation. How could she respond? Weighing ideas of entanglements, consequences, anticipations...

Helena, blessedly, went on, “Because I feel that if I hadn’t told you I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be.”

That was indeed the entirety of it, so... “I like that you’re smart,” Myka said. “I like it so much.”

“I like that you are as well, chemist. Sit down. I have food to cook. On that topic, I regret I didn’t ask about allergies, so tell me now. I don’t want to inadvertently attempt to murder you.”

“You can’t. I’m basically insensitive.”

“Ridiculous. Monty knows better, and so do I.”

She delivered that perfectly, not trying, but rather as if she had a doctorate in quashing self-deprecation, and it made Myka smile. “If I were allergic to anything, leukotrienes would be involved,” she said.

“Do you want to explain them to me now?” Helena asked.

It was even more perfect, as an invitation, but Myka turned it down: “You’re busy. Food to cook. Can I help?”

“Sit. You look tired. Is that an awful thing to say? I don’t mean that you look in any way bad. You’ve most likely had a long day.” She stopped, her expression devolving into a sheepish wince. “I’m digging a hole.”

“It’s okay,” Myka said to banish that wince, charming as it was. “You’re right about the day.”

She hadn’t improved much on her Saturday sleep in the subsequent nights, but at least last night had been anticipatory rather than self-castigating. During the day, her concentration at work had been... not ideal. She broke some glass—dropped from nervous fingers—and Abigail asked her if she was intending to go on a rampage. She’d had to redo more than one assay. It really was a miracle she’d been able to get here on time.

So she sat, as instructed, and she found herself pondering various miracles: Helena was cooking food, and Myka, on the sofa, had Leuko—no, Montgomery Clift—beside her, as he used to be, and she wished she were a poet, so as to put into words what suffused her heart. “Does he sit like this with you?” she felt compelled to ask.

“He does,” Helena said. Weeks ago, Myka would have felt that as a knife. Now it was confirmation of all-encompassing comfort. “With me,” Helena went on, “and now with you. I’ve never seen him do so with anyone else.”

“Have you, though?” Myka asked him.

Of course he blinked those dark, beautiful, secret eyes. “Did she teach you to do that?” Myka asked him, and she dared a glance at Helena.

“I can’t imagine what you’re talking about,” Helena said. “All I personally taught him was that he should shake hands. And clearly that is not what is occurring.”

“Shake?” Myka suggested to him.

Montgomery Clift sat up immediately and held out his right front paw.

“Impressive,” Myka told him—told Helena—after a convivial shake had occurred. In all her time with him, she hadn’t thought to see whether he would do that. She hadn’t thought about training at all. He was so quiet and sweet. What else would she have wanted him to do? How often would they really have needed to shake hands? “How often?” she asked, softly, and she took his blink to mean “Not very.”

Helena said from the kitchen, “It’s starting in not very long, and I’d like to let Monty out. Will you watch him in the yard?”

“You’re going to watch me watch him, aren’t you?

Helena smiled. “Honestly, yes. But not for the reason you fear.”

“I’m not sure you have a true handle on the extent of my fears.”

“Educate me.”

“What do you write about? Or I guess I mean, what did you write about?” Myka asked. The question had come to her that instant, fully formed—not a fear, not as such, but rather a gray gap in her knowledge.

“Hm,” Helena said. “Let’s talk about that when you come back indoors.”

Montgomery Clift enjoyed his time in the yard. “Sorry we can’t walk,” she told him, but he was cavorting, sniffing, investigating, and didn’t seem to care. It made her sad that she’d had no space for him to do that, untethered.

They came back indoors, so: “So, writing,” Myka said. “I didn’t Google you. So I don’t know.”

“That is both slightly insulting and exceedingly considerate.”

Myka, flustered, said, “Point being I don’t know.”

“It begins with my having been a rather unusual sort of child.”

“That isn’t hard to believe,” Myka said, then cringed. “That’s probably also slightly insulting.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s exceedingly complimentary. Don’t we all want to be unusual? I do now, and did then... I would fix my attention on a thing that struck me as interesting, and I would not rest until I became expert in it. The smaller and stranger the better. An arcane slice of history, some esoteric gadgetry, a figure of obscure influence. As it happened, I could write about such things in a readable way.”

“Showing off what an expert you’d become?” Myka asked. She hoped that wasn’t insulting at all.

Helena smiled in affirmation. “It began like that, yes. One tried to become less insufferable when it was for wider publication. In any case, I sought such topics out for years—the rarities, the curiosities. I made a reasonable amount of money doing so, which is better than many can say.”

“So why stop?”

“I had it in my head to write a novel. Something with that same depth, but also breadth.”

“Do you still have it in your head?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Mainly in my head. Not on paper.”

“Should I not ask why?”

“Monty’s disappearance... derailed me.”

“Are you un-derailed now?”

“Not precisely.”

“Should I not ask why?”

“I’ve found myself distracted.”

“Should I not ask why?”

“You should know why.”

Was that trying again? It felt softer, not quite as discomfiting. “When does this dog show start, anyway?” Myka said.

“Very soon,” Helena said, and the way she spoke those very simple words reminded Myka, viscerally, of why she wanted to be here—Helena’s eyes were bright, her voice low but engaged. An edge of something like hunger crept around the periphery of Myka’s awareness.

The show itself was astounding. Myka had known she had very little knowledge of dogs as animals, certainly prior to her brief ownership experience. But she had not known that she had not known how vast the world of dogs, as rankable, judgeable animals, really was. An entire additional universe was folded into the one Myka thought she knew. The idea of breeds, okay, she got that. But groups? Handlers? Stacking?

“Can he do that?” Myka asked, about the stacking, that stance seemingly required for the judging of... dogness?

“Oh, watch. Monty, sit,” Helena said to the dog who was curled between them. She raised her hand as she said it, and just like that, up he sat. She pulled her hand forward then and said, “Stand.” He stood, his entire self on display, just like the dogs on the television. After a second, Helena said, “I should have cheese in my hand. Or one of your tortillas. He hates when there’s no reward. You see how the handlers hold the treats in their mouths, when they’re in the ring. Often they use liver.”

“In their mouths...” Myka shuddered.

Helena offered a sympathetic echo of the movement. “It’s apparently quite compelling as an incentive, and they can’t hold the brush or the lead that way. But it’s certainly among the many reasons I myself wouldn’t have been able to show him.”

“I don’t understand why being pretty doesn’t count,” Myka said.

“Shapes and sizes matter more than anything, and he’s slightly too small for a male.” Montgomery Clift turned away from her, seemingly intentionally. Helena laughed and told him, “You’re exquisite and you know it.”

“Why did you even want a Mittelspitz anyway?” Myka asked. “No offense, Montgomery Clift.” After trying it out loud, she realized it didn’t work nearly as well that way as it did in her head. “Monty,” she amended, and now he reoriented himself toward Myka, as if he were pleased. She was probably attributing far too much intentionality to him.

Helena said, “I didn’t want one.” Did Montgomery Clift turn even further toward Myka? “As I told you, there was a novel in my head, but I was too busy investigating those curiosities. Then I began to imagine that I might find time for it if I settled into a more routine everyday life.”

“So you got a dog?” Myka asked, recalling her own Leuko-routines.

“Accidentally. While looking into teaching positions, I was finishing up one of my last pieces, on the insular, sectarian cultures around rare breeds of dog. I met Monty’s breeder, and she happened to note that having a dog would certainly create routines... I scoffed, but then I met Monty himself, as a wee puppy, and there was no longer any question.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

Helena showed Myka several photos of that wee puppy.

“Oh my god,” Myka said. It was the only logical response.

“He didn’t seem real,” Helena affirmed.

And yet there the real Montgomery Clift was, clearly the grown-up version of those photos, blinking back and forth at both of them. A curiosity.

“You’re coming back tomorrow night?” Helena asked later, as Myka prepared to leave.

What a confounding question. “I... am I?” Myka staggered out.

“The show. It’s two nights. I thought you knew.”

That had probably been conveyed at some point, but Myka hadn’t paid sufficient attention. She had lost her purchase on the unfamiliar new dog-parade production-number world unfurling itself for her perusal on the television, as she was far more interested in the equally new world composed of one disconcerting woman and one unreal dog. What did it say that the latter outranked the former?

Right... as if that were a mystery. “I think if this evening has demonstrated anything, it’s that I know absolutely nothing,” she lied.

“Not nothing,” Helena said, mindreading. Then she read some more: “Surely you know that I want to kiss you goodnight.”

“I want to know it,” Myka told her.

“Then do.” She moved close to Myka, a sidle not dissimilar to her move in the parking lot, and this time Myka did lean down, did find out. It was not confusing at all, but rather like good clear water, bracing and inundating, roaring, silent, everything. If this was the first night, what would the second entail?

The next day in the lab, Myka allowed to Abigail, “Maybe she’s my girlfriend.” Tempting fate, probably, but fate was certainly doing some tempting of its own...

Abigail crossed her arms. Never a good sign. “Why do you always have to lie first?”

“Why... what?”

“You lie about having a dog,” Abigail said. “You lie about having a girlfriend. What’s next? Your side job for the CIA?”

“Very funny.”

“If you deny it, I’ll know it’s true.”

“Fine. My side job is CIA. What do you know about dog shows?”

“Are you going undercover at one?” Abigail countered.

“My maybe girlfriend knows a lot about them.”

“Then ask her, not me. People like to talk about what they know a lot about. Except you, but you’re weird like that.”

Valid advice, and an accurate description. Myka thanked Abigail for them both.

“And you’d lie anyway,” Abigail continued.

Myka didn’t thank her for that.

As she prepared to leave for Helena’s that evening, she found herself thinking on clarity. That she might at last have some.

Her phone buzzed—a text. She never got texts.

The text was from Helena.

It said: Don’t come.

TBC

P.S. Only a bit left to go, I swear. Poor Myka’s heart can’t take much more, anyway, and my goal in life, or rather in narrative, really isn’t to make her suffer.

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #Why #part 3 #B&W Holiday Gift Exchange #bering and wells gift exchange #bering and wells exchange #mysensitiveside

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