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lovesick-yanderes · 2 years ago

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Lovesick: Part One

Cal Character Bio | Word Count: 1724 words

TWs: Stalking (via social media)

This is probably the worst job Cal has ever had. Cardinal Cafe, a small, locally owned coffee shop and bakery placed right on the edge of the city’s center, was his own personal Hell. The smell within the building was overpowering; between all the different roasts of coffee beans, the constantly baking edible goods, and the people who stood outside to smoke a cigarette as they waited for their coffee, he was constantly overwhelmed and agitated. His coworkers sucked, too; they were all college students, always griping about exams, their class loads, interpersonal drama… shit that simply did not matter. His boss sucked. To top it all off, he made $11.45 an hour.

Although he’d been working different jobs for over a decade by this point and had saved almost every penny, meaning he didn’t really need a well paying job to get by for quite a while, he still resented the low wage compared to the effort he was forced to make on shift each day. He frequently dreamed about telling his boss and coworkers off and just walking out one day, middle finger raised. He’d find a new job, which would be exciting at first, but would inevitably suffer the same fate as not only the Cardinal Cafe, but also Dane’s Diner, Peachtree Preschool, August’s Auto, and loads of other establishments he’d worked at throughout his time as a vampire.

There was one reason he was hesitant to leave Cardinal Cafe; you. His favorite regular customer. You came in every single day and ordered a rotation of three drinks. You always chatted with him as he made your drink, smiled and laughed at everything he said, and complemented his barista skills after every first sip. If it was slow, you’d stick around by the counter to sip on your drink and carry a lengthy conversation with him; if it was busy, you’d give him a genuine thanks and be on your way. He looked forward to you coming by the cafe every shift; it was one of the only things that got him through work.

Cal looks at the clock: 9:30 am. You should have been here by now.

He shrugs to himself and continues prepping, making three different pots of hot coffee before switching to making the cafe’s cold brew. At 10:30, he starts getting anxious. A steady stream of customers pour in and he meticulously crafts their drinks, pouring cups of coffee and serving pastries or croissants to their buyers. Time flies incredibly fast. At 12:30, it’s time for him to clock out. He takes his time getting ready to leave, hoping you’ll run through the door so he can see you; you never arrive.

Where were you? He punches out of his shift and heads back home, and occupies himself through the rest of the day, and then through the night, with thoughts of your whereabouts. He walks into the Cardinal Cafe the next morning at 5 AM, ties his apron tight, and gets to work prepping the bar, confident he’ll see you today- but he doesn’t. In fact, two weeks go by before he, frustrated, decides to do some digging. First, he asks his coworkers if they’ve seen you.

“No, not for a few weeks now,” one of them says, idly twisting her hair as she leans against the counter. “It sucks. They were so nice.”

“The last time I saw them…” Another trails off in thought, crossing her arms to help her focus. “Probably at the end of last month.”

“(Y/N)? No, I haven’t seen them,” the third says as he questions her. “It’s been quite a while since they’ve stopped by. Sucks. They tipped really well.”

With his coworkers offering no help, he turns to social media to find you. He searches your name on every platform, and while he does find you (rather easily, in fact), he’s frustrated to see that all of your accounts are private and locked down pretty tightly. There was no way for him to check up on you. He throws his phone down and claps his hands over his eyes, groaning out of anger and frustration. What was he supposed to do now? The only good part of his day was gone.

Well, maybe this is for the best, he thinks, uncovering his eyes and reaching to grab his phone again. A small crack now sat near the top of his screen. He rolls his eyes and goes back online, scrolling aimlessly to try to distract himself. With you gone, he has no other reason to stay at the Cardinal Cafe. This is what he’s been waiting for; a reason to leave… but why does it feel so wrong? The prospect of never seeing you again makes his heart ache in a way he’s never experienced, certainly not as a vampire, but not as a human, either. He continues to scroll mindlessly when something familiar catches his eye. It’s your sweater- well, the same sweater that you have- in the background of an ad. He expands the post to read more.

It’s a targeted ad for a new apartment complex on the other side of the city.

“Immediate move-ins available! Our luxury apartments are spacious, pet friendly, and come with plenty of amenities. Call our leasing office today!” Below continues with more information, such as base rent prices, pet restrictions, and details about the amenities. Cal chooses to ignore them and scrolls back to the picture, clicking it to look it over again.

Something inside of him surges when he sees the sweater again. Not because of the article of clothing, but because of the person wearing it. The person in the picture was definitely you- your body shape and hair made this unmistakable. Cal put his phone down again, this time in shock; moments ago, he felt like he’d lost purpose because you were gone, and now, thanks to a random targeted ad, you were back, and he could see you again. It felt unreal- too good to be true. He snatched his phone back up and called the leasing office, his mind already made up. He was going to see you again.

Less than a week later, Cal’s old apartment is packed up in boxes and loaded into a moving truck. His time at the Cardinal Cafe is also over- he simply stopped showing up. He drives separately over to the new apartment complex: Steel Square Estates, a total of 5 blue buildings spread throughout a sprawling parking lot. He goes through the process of getting his key and walks up to his unit, opening up the windows to look at his view and get a feel for the layout of the complex’s property. There’s a pool, a small playground, and what seemed to be a paved walking trail that led into a nearby wooded area. It was, simply put, beautiful.

He spends the rest of the afternoon unloading the moving truck with the hired movers. He’s constantly looking over his shoulder and around the building for you as he travels up and down the stairs, stopping abruptly to stare any time he sees someone with your hair color. He has no luck, though. He pays the movers and is walking back upstairs to his unit when he stops again after seeing your hair color. Except this time, it isn’t a stranger.

There you were, in all your glory, walking down the stairs to head toward the parking lot when you met his gaze. He watches your confused expression turn into one of recognition, then shock, then joy. He can’t help himself as he cracks a smile at your emotional progression and watches as you jog down the stairs towards him.

“Oh my God!” You exclaim, stopping in front of him. “It’s you! From Cardinal Cafe!”

He feigns ignorance for a moment before mimicking your progression of recognition. “(Y/N)?” He asks, hoping he sounds just as elated but curious as you do.

“Yes! I can’t believe it!” The two of you share excitement for a moment. “Did you just move here?” You ask, tilting your head to the side a little.

“Yes. Just got my keys today,” Cal explains. He can barely contain his excitement. He sets the box he was holding down on the sidewalk, giving you his full attention.

“What a coincidence! I just moved here a few weeks ago too- I can’t believe we didn’t know we were moving into the same complex, let alone the same building!”

“What a coincidence indeed,” he affirms, smiling. If only you knew the struggle he went through to find you again.

You’re about to start talking again when a door slams from up the stairs. Down walks a tall man with black hair, staring at you and raising a brow at Cal’s presence. You look back, much to Cal’s dismay, and make a sound of joy.

“Oh, John!” You exclaim, waving the man over. Cal’s body tenses as the man comes closer to you, and he feels something dangerous shift in his brain when the man wraps an arm around your shoulders. “This is Cal. He works at Cardinal Cafe, that coffee shop I went to on the other side of town.”

John nods his head at Cal, and Cal returns the gesture, his fury like a wildfire, spreading through his body with such speed he can barely hold himself together. He just met the guy, but Cal wants John to die. Painfully. Now.

“I’m John, as you already heard. It’s nice to meet you,” John says.

“You as well,” Cal returns.

The three of you stand there awkwardly for a moment before you break the silence. “Well, we won’t keep you from moving in. I’m so glad we got to chat again! I’ll see you around, Cal!” You and John head off in the opposite direction, but Cal stands his ground for a moment, trying desperately to calm himself down. He watches you leave to the parking lot over his shoulder before he continues walking back up the stairs to his unit, his mind already racing to figure out a way to get rid of John. Something dark inside of him takes over, something possessive. You’re not walking away from him again- and John will not be sticking around for long.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #vampire #vampire oc #yandere vampire #lsy: cal

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your-eternal-muse · 5 years ago

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Wish I Were....

Heather Series Chapter 12 (FINAL PART)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Bonus!:Readers Card Confession Bonus!:To Hold On, To Let Go, Spencers take Bonus!:Series Playlist

Summery: Reader no longer wishes she were someone else

Words: 4k

Warnings: Swearing, Description of Birth, just pure, tooth aching fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Y/N: This is it y’all. This is the final chapter of the Heather's Series. I started this journey a little over a month ago, and my god, has it been amazing. I never thought it would pick up the traction it did, and I am so glad I decided to start posting in the first place. I’m gonna take a short break from posting any writing just to recuperate and stuff, but it won’t last longer than a week, and I will still be interacting on the platform itself. I want to thank every single reader who has liked and/or reblogged my work. It means so much to me, and I would not have gotten this far without your support. I love you all with all of my heart. There will be one more bonus “chapter” that I will be posting within the next couple days, but it’ll be mostly headcanons, and answering any questions you may have about the series. I hope the ending is worth it.

With love, your eternal muse,

Frankie <3

~~~~~

I used to be a night owl.

I used to live in the night, sit under the stars and soak it all up.

I used to not go to bed until hours after the sunset, perfectly content to not waking up until hours after it had risen.

Now, I’m lucky to sleep for a few hours between dusk and dawn.

But I’m okay with that.

The ringing of trembling tears echoes through my ears, and I stir awake.

I rub my face, looking at the clock as I push back the comforter.

4 am.

Oh goody.

“I’ve got her baby, go back to sleep.”

Spencer whispers in my ear, planting a kiss on my shoulder, and I’m not one to argue.

I fall back into the pillows, pulling the blanket back up to my chin, my eyes closing without much resistance.

I wake an hour late, expecting to feel his body warmth against my back.

I turn, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, realizing that the blanket is still pulled back from when he got up the hour before.

Oh dear lord please tell me she didn’t get sick.

I climb out of bed, padding down the hallway towards the soft glow of light emitting from her room.

I pause at the doorway, watching as he holds her close to his chest, a smile draped across his face.

I can’t help but stand and watch as he sways back and forth, watching her sleep in his arms.

I notice her tiny hand is clasped around his ring finger, the gold of his wedding band glowing in the dim light.

I love that ring on him.

I never thought I’d be the one to put it on him.

My heart is pounding in my chest.

Why am I so nervous?

He’s not going to leave me stranded.

Right?

Jesus, get a grip, y/n.

“Are you ready y/n?” Hotch walks around the corner, fixing his cuff links as he walks up to me.

I take a deep breath in, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t going to throw up.

“Yep. I’m ready, I just….” I fan myself. “Is it normal to feel like you’re going to pass out on your wedding day?”

He smiles, coming forward and taking hold of my hand. “It is. And I guarantee you, he’s worse than you are.”

I laugh, just imagining the state he’s in.

He hasn’t seen me in three days, since I’m a stickler for tradition.

It was my bachelorette party, than his bachelor party, and now here we are.

“When Haley and I got married, I was a nervous wreck. I don’t think I took a normal breath until hours after just because I was so worried about everything going to plan.”

He brushes some of the curls framing my face out of my eye sight.

“But, when I met her eyes, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. It was just us, and I knew, at that moment, that everything would be okay.”

I nod, exhaling. “Okay. I’m ready.”

He loops my arm through his, turning to the closed doors where my future waits for me.

“Thank you, Aaron. For giving me away. You’re the closest thing to a father I’ve got.”

He pats my hand. “It’s my honor, y/n.”

I hear the start of the music, and my heart jump starts.

I grip his arm, trying to control my breathing.

“Don’t let me fall.”

“Never.”

The doors open, and for a moment, I panic.

But then my eyes meet his.

And everything else disappears.

His hands are clasped in front of him, and I see him look me over, taking in everything.

Tears are streaming down both of our faces, and god, I never realized how much I missed him when he’s gone.

We reach the altar, where a proud Rossi stands, and Hotch hands me off with a kiss to my cheek.

I hand JJ my flowers, turning clasping Spencer's hands in mine.

When my hand touches his, my breathing returns to normal.

However, before I even notice, JJ is handing me a folded piece of paper that holds my vows.

Weddings always seem longer when you’re not in them.

I unfold the paper, clearing my throat.

“I don’t have an eidetic memory, so I need this so I don’t make a fool of myself.”

A couple laughs from the crowd.

Okay, here goes nothing.

“The first time I saw you, you were sitting at your desk, while Derek and JJ sat around you, watching you explain the scientific inaccuracies of Star Wars.”

He laughs, and Derek pats his shoulder from behind him.

“I was awestruck to say the least. The way your eyes lit up with excitement, how your hands couldn’t stay still.”

I take a breath, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“I fell in love with you at that moment. But I knew I was done for when you looked at me for the first time.”

Rossi produces a tissue from his pocket, and I laugh, accepting and blotting at my tears.

“You are my best friend. You are there for me in my darkest times, and are often the cause of all my light ones. You hold me when I cry, and you laugh when I’m angry at something stupid. You never make me feel stupid. You are the greatest thing to have ever happened to me.”

Christ, why was this so hard?

“I love you. And I promise to cherish you, and not get annoyed when you ramble on about god knows what, because I love to listen to you talk. I promise to never make you feel like you don’t matter, because you matter so much. I promise to love you through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, until the end of time itself. I choose you, forever and always.”

I fold the paper up again, dabbing away my tears.

“Well, look at that, I still made a fool of myself.”

More laughs, and I hear a few sniffles here and there.

Spencer wipes his own eyes. “I don’t know if I can top that.”

I giggle.

He goes into his jacket, and pulls out a white envelope, and my face scrunches in confusion.

“It’s not what you think it is.” He whispers.

He opens it, pulling out a car, and begins to read from the inside.

“You told me once, in a card similar to this one, that the moment you admitted to yourself that you loved me, was on a road trip to visit my mom. I thought it fitting that I tell you that, that was the moment I admitted to myself that I loved you in the same way. So here we are.”

I bring a hand up to my mouth, covering the ugly sobs that threaten to spill out.

“We had only known each other for a month, but you were easily taking over every brain cell in my mind. I was terrified of you saying no, but I asked anyway. Those two weeks were some of the best of my life. I fell in love with your laugh, your smile, the way your hair looks in the sunlight. I fell in love with you from the driver's seat and I’ve loved you ever since. You deserve to be reminded of that every day for the rest of your life. I promise to hold and cherish the heart that you have given me. I promise to catch you, every time you run away. I promise to protect you with my life. You mean everything to me, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of forever with you. I love you, forever and always.”

He closes it, and it takes a moment for me to gather myself.

“I promise I didn’t look at your vows before writing mine.”

I laugh.

Rossi clears his throat. “The rings please, Henry.”

Henry walks forward, our rings sitting on the pillow as he smiles at us.

“Thank you buddy.” I say, taking hold of Spencer’s between my fingers.

“Alright. Y/n, repeat after me. I, Y/n Y/l/n, take Spencer Reid, to be my husband.”

I repeat the words, a smile growing bigger and bigger on my face.

“To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until the end of time.”

Can I kiss him yet?

I say the words, like casting a spell, before slipping the golden band onto his finger.

Rossi repeats the phrase, and Spencer’s smile is as big as mine, if not bigger.

“Until the end of time.”

He delicately slips the ring on my finger, and my heart starts pounding.

“One more question for each of you. I promise, we're almost there.”

He smiles at each of us, before turning back to me.

“Do you, Y/n Y/l/n, take Spencer Reid as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

Not even a question.

“And do you, Spencer Reid, take Y/n Y/l/n as your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

I start bouncing on my toes, too excited to care.

“Then it is my great pleasure and honor to pronounce you, husband and wife.”

He turns to Spencer. “You may now kiss the bride.”

He doesn’t hesitate, cradling my face in his hands as he places his lips on mine.

It’s just me and him, in an empty room.

I move my hands up his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck.

It’s only when we break, that I remember people are here, and the room is filled with applause.

With our hands clasped together we walk back down the aisle, and I swear I am never going to be this happy ever again. And that’s okay.

My eyes fall from his arms, to the dresser sitting next to her crib.

The top is covered with photos, personalized trinkets, and books.

One picture is framed with her name in gold lettering down the side.

My first sonogram.

Through the glass I can see wrinkles in the film.

Spencer carried it with him until the day she was born.

He had always mentioned how he wanted to have kids someday.

It didn’t make me any less nervous to tell him, though.

“Hello?”

“Hi! Is this Mrs. Y/n Reid?”

I stop writing, my pen mid stroke on my paper.

“This is she.”

“Hello! This is Nicole calling from United Health with the results of your pregnancy test.”

Jesus that was fast.

“Oh! That was quicker than I expected.”

I set my pen down, closing my file, pushing some hair behind my ear, looking around to see if anyone was in ear shot.

They weren’t.

“We get that a lot. But, I’d like to say congratulations! You are pregnant!”

I stop breathing for a moment.

“Oh my god. Oh my god! Thank you!”

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

“You’re so welcome! Congratulations again! Have a great rest of your day!”

I hang up, still trying to grasp the words that have just been spoken to me.

I’m pregnant.

I’m fucking pregnant.

Holy fuck.

“Y/n? Baby, are you okay?”

I snap out of my daze to see Spencer standing beside my desk, a look of skeptical worry on his face.

“Uh...yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. Um…”

I have to tell him. I can’t keep this a secret from him, even if I wanted to try and surprise him.

I stand, running my hands over my pants.

“Okay, somethings wrong. You do that when you’re nervous.”

I can’t help but laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Nothings wrong, Spence. Um, I just got a call from United Health.”

He’s confused, setting the file in his hand, down on my desk.

“Why would United Health be calling you?”

There are days when I can't believe he has an I.Q. of 187.

“I went in yesterday, to get a test done. I’ve been gaining weight, and I’ve been getting sick in the mornings. I also skipped my last period.”

I can sense the wheels beginning to turn in his head.

“Wait. Are you…”

I nod, tears falling down my cheeks. “I’m pregnant, Spencer.”

It takes a moment for the words to register in his brain, but then he’s yelling in excitement, throwing his arms around my waist, picking me up and spinning me around.

He sets me down, his eyes red rimmed, his smile one I will never forget.

“You’re pregnant. Oh my god we’re having a baby.”

His hands are placed on either side of my face, and I can’t help but laugh at his infectious excitement.

“Who’s having a baby, now?”

Derek walks up, and Spencer turns, and I know Derek knows just by the shit eating grin on Spencer’s face.

But I just love saying it.

“I’m pregnant.”

Derek’s eyes light up as he claps his hands together, before pulling Spencer into a hug. “My man!”

JJ and Emily gather around, all smiles and squeals as I’m captured in the middle of a group hug.

Penelope walks into the bullpen then, confusion written across her face.

“What’s going on out here? Why are you guys screaming? Who won the lottery?”

I bite my lip, trying to hold back the smile.

“I’m pregnant!” I all but scream.

Penelope’s expression changes in an instant as she practically runs forward.

“Oh my god! Holy crap! Baby genius! That’s so much better than the lottery!”

She catches me in a bone crushing hug before suddenly pulling back.

“Crap. Sorry. Fragile baby.”

“Congratulations baby girl.” Derek swaps places with Penelope, who is now hugging Spencer with everything she has.

“Alright, why are you guys hugging each other?”

Rossi and Hotch walk through the glass doors, taking in the commotion.

I feel Spencer wrap his arms around me from behind, as he kisses my shoulder, my neck, my cheek.

“I’m pregnant!”

A smile immediately forms on Rossi’s face as he comes forward, grasping my face between his hands, kissing me on each of my cheeks.

“Congratulations, principessa.”

“Congratulations, to both of you.”

Hotch is smiling, waiting his turn to give hugs.

“It’s decided, celebratory dinner at my place tonight!” Rossi announces and we all cheer.

I turn my head, placing my hands over Spencer’s which are now resting over my stomach.

“I love you.” I smile.

“I love you, too. Both of you.”

Soft humming breaks the silence of the room, and quiet words float through the air as he sings to her sleeping form.

“Come Josephine, in my flying machine. Going up she goes, up she goes.”

I enter the room then, tip toeing over to stand by his side, leaning my head against his shoulder as I gently stroke her hair.

“Up, up, a little bit higher. Oh! My! The moon is on fire! Come, Josephine in my flying machine going up, all on, goodbye!”

She’s tiny.

I couldn’t fathom how tiny she was a month ago, and she has grown, but she’s still so small.

Has it already been a month?

“Jesus fuck, I promised myself this wouldn’t happen at work.”

I shouldn’t have come in.

I know that.

I know that waking up with contractions is a tell tale sign that you should not go to work.

But she isn’t due for another two weeks. Two weeks is a long time. Hopefully enough time to get a grip on myself so I don’t panic that I’m gonna fail as a mother every time I think about it too hard.

I thought maybe I could just get through the day, but the warm stream trickling down my leg is a big fuck no to that.

I’m trying to steady my breathing, the cup of tea I was making abandoned on the counter as I grip the edge with a force I didn’t know I had.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

Hotch walks up, worry creasing his brow.

He places a hand on my back, a comfort as pain ripples up and down my spine.

I shake my head. “I need Spencer.”

I shift my weight from leg to leg. “And a towel.”

He nods his head, looking around for a chair, frowning when he comes up empty.

“Aaron,” I say, turning my head towards him. “Please go get my husband.”

“Right.” He nods, taking a second to make sure I wasn’t going to topple over before almost running towards Penelope's bat cave.

A hiss escapes my mouth as I feel a jab in my side.

“Yeah, I know baby, I wish he would hurry the fuck up too.”

A plethora of footsteps fall upon my ears, and Spencer immediately places a hand on my lower back, taking hold of mine with his other.

“How far apart are they?” is the first thing out of his mouth.

“I’m fine, honey, thanks for asking.” I say as we start to make our way towards the front glass doors.

He gives me a look and I sigh.

“I don’t know. I thought if I didn’t count they’d go away and I could pretend this isn’t happening at work.”

“I wish it worked like that.” JJ laughs, holding open the door and what I presume is my go bag.

“Me too.” I grit, squeezing Spencer’s hand.

“Remember our deal. Not one statistic, or fact is to be uttered from your mouth today. You are not a doctor once we enter the hospital.”

I can see the panic start to form on his face, but he laughs.

“Yes ma’am.”

~~~

I’m never doing this again.

I don’t think I’ve ever been in this much pain before.

I’ve been in this room for what feels like forever, because she’s taking her sweet time being early.

No amount of pillows or soothing rubs can help the aches that are washing over me.

My hair is falling from the bun I threw it up in, sweat coating every inch of skin I have.

I feel gross in every sense of the word.

I lean forward and groan as another contraction rips through me.

How do women do this?

Spencer brushes some hair out of my face and lays a cool washcloth on my neck as I grip the side rails of my bed.

“You’re doing so good baby.”

It feels like I can’t breath.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

He knows there’s not much he can do right now to help, but he holds my hand, trailing his hand up and down my back.

“Just a little bit longer. I promise. She’s almost here. You’re doing so good, y/n. I’m so proud of you.”

If only he knew about the panic flowing through my veins, the thoughts that I’m not ready to be a mom bouncing around my skull like an insistent headache.

A knock at the door, and my doctor walks in, smiles and bright eyes. “How are you feeling, y/n?”

“Like a,” I groan, trying to move away from the pain, shifting forward and backwards. “Like a million bucks.”

She laughs, and I don’t have the energy to be nice and laugh with her.

“Well, I still need to check, but I’m pretty sure you’re ready to push.”

I close my eyes, not wanting to look as she sticks her fingers in a place that will need some R&R after this.

“I was right. You’re ready. Now, your body knows exactly what to do. It’s best to not fight it, and just listen to what it’s telling you okay?”

I start to move myself back away from her, my breathing picking up pace.

I can’t do this.

“No. No. I can’t. I’m not ready.”

She doesn’t seem phased at all, but Spencer easily notices the fear in my voice.

“Hey, Hey, Hey. Look at me.” His hands stroke the sides of my face, and his fingers are wet from my tears and sweat.

I shake my head. “I’m not doing this. I’m not ready. What if I fail? I don’t want to fail her. I can’t. No. I’m gonna be a horrible mother.”

“Y/n, baby, breath with me.” He takes my hand, and places it on his chest.

I can feel his breaths beneath his breastbone, the frantic heartbeats that give away his true state of mind.

I hate that I’m stressing him out.

“You are going to be a great mother. One of the best. I don’t think you could fail even if you tried.”

He brushes my tears away. “But you can’t force your body to stop. You need to let go. I’m right here.”

“Alright, were ready, y/n.”

My eyes pass between Spencer’s and I know he’s right.

I just need to let go.

I nod, and I move back to where I was.

My left hand grips the rail, while my right is situated inside Spencer’s.

I feel the next contraction start.

“Alright I need you to push for me.”

I’m on the brink of a mental breakdown, but I take a breath and let my muscles do the work.

I hear that groaning and screaming can actually help, so that’s what I do.

With every push, my voice grows louder, words lost in the back of my throat.

But I’m getting tired, and I can feel myself crashing.

So when another contraction pulses through me, I push myself forward, and use every muscle in my body.

“Get out, get out, get out, GET OUT!”

I don’t think I’ve ever screamed that loud, but it seemed to work.

It felt like a gush and then crys fill the room.

I fall back onto the bed, tears streaming down my face.

“She’s beautiful!” I hear my doctor say over her screams.

Spencer kisses my forehead, his own tears coating his face. “You were amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“Here she is!”

My doctor lays a bundle of white blankets onto my chest, and when I see her face, my heart stops.

The world could be burning around me, but I wouldn’t care. Even covered in gunk and red faced, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I sob, holding her close to me, Spencer right there beside me, his hand gently stroking the top of her head.

“Hi, Ettie.” I whisper. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“She’s so beautiful.” He whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

I can’t take my eyes off her. I never want to let go of her.

Nothing else matters anymore, nothing but her.

Juliet Diana Reid.

Born at 6:08 am, on the third of December.

He places her in my arms, and I clutch her close to my chest as I move back towards her crib to lay her down again.

I don’t understand how I could have ever doubted how amazing my life would be with her in it.

Soft snores emit from her small mouth, and Spencer wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder, only moving when he hears me sniffle.

“Why are you crying, love?” he whispers

I wipe my face, turning around so I can face him.

His hands are on my hips, his thumbs rubbing circles on my skin.

“For so long, I was jealous of so many people.” My hands play with the fabric of his t-shirt, rubbing it between my fingers.

“I was jealous of Heather. Of what she had.”

My hands move up his chest, coming to rest at the base of his neck.

“I dreamed about this. About having this with you. And I never thought I would get it. But here I am.”

I smile up at him. “I have everything I have ever wanted. I wouldn’t wish for another life even if it was offered. I have you, and Ettie, and the life I wanted so bad. I’m just…”

I swallow the noise threatening to spill from my throat, so I don’t wake up the sleeping girl behind me.

“I’m just really happy is all.”

He smiles softly down at me, and he brings up a hand to cup my cheek.

He leans down and kisses me slowly, gently, in a way that always leaves me paralyzed.

“I love you.” He whispers.

I nuzzle my nose against his, before laying my head against his chest, feeling his arms wrap around me, holding me tight against him.

“I love you, too.”

I love you, Spencer.

I love you.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid series #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds series #cm #mathew gray gubler #mgg #Heather #Conan Gray #song fic

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Patreon Membership Drive

Hello all you happy people! And welcome one and all to my blog. If your seeing my blog for the first time i’m Jake. I review various animated shows and comic books, with such projects as an exaustive look at the animated history of The Three Cablleros, Every Lena episode of Ducktales 2017, a look at all of Scott Pilgrim that’s wrapping up in august and currently a look at the 2017 Ducktales. I also review Owl House every weekend as it comes out and do the same for Amphibia and did the same for Ducktales.

Point is I like reviewing episodes or full seasons of shows, arcs of comics or just doing full retrospectives on something and i’ve made a good stab at making a living: I’ve picked up two Patreons: Superfan @weirdkev27 and Emma Fici, a close friend of mine, and Kev pays for a LOT of reviews each month i’m happy to do, said Lena and Cabs Retrospectives were his ideas and ones I would’ve gladly done on my own time had I thought of them first.

But while i’m greatful for both, especailly Kev, i’m just not making enough to really contribute at my house, to buy meals or groceries and to really do more than just pay the streaming bills each month and buy shit for myself on occasion. So i’ve TRIED for months and months to get more patrons. For those unaware of what Patreon is, Patreon is a platform where creators, such as myself can get paid monthly by fine folks such as yourself. This helps them get paid when say, the webstie they’ve hitched themselves too dosen’t pay them any ad revenue , hint hint.

Most patreons have goals attached to earnings: they make a certain amount a month, the person will do a thing, and for reviewers that’s a special review of some sort. I’ve tried doing this but it only worked up to 15 bucks and since then no one else has bit and the whole thing has stalled. But luckily for me there’s another way patreon can measure goals so i’ve switched to that:

THE BOTTOM LINE: FROM HERE ON OUT EVERY PATRON WHO JOINS MY PATREON, EVEN AT JUST A DOLLAR A MONTH, HELPS ME REACH A GOAL, AND THUS GETS A CERTAIN REVIEW OR RETROSPECTIVE ON MY SCHEDULE AND GUARANTEED TO BE DONE BY ME AS SOON AS I CAN.

That means if you pledge just one buck a month, though more is appricated and 5 a month gets you a review of your chocie a month, you help me reach one of many fabulous goals. So what are they?

GOALS:

1 New Patron: Reviews of Amphibia Season 1 and BOTH seasons of Tuca and Bertie! 2 New Patrons: For my Scottaholics reviews of Brian Lee O Malley’s OTHER comics Lost at Sea, Seconds and Snotgirl. 3 New Patrons: A complete season one review of the Owl House! 4 New Patrons: For you duck fans a review of a Carl Barks comic EVERY month 5 New Patrons: A review of America, An utterly batshit and terrible solo title for a great character aka...

6 new patrons: A Complete Gravity Falls Retrospective! Season 1, the shorts, Season 2, Lost Legends and Journal 3! All reveiwed, all for you! 7 New Patrons: Chuck Austen’s X-Men Reviewed! For the unintaited, it’s a run where Angel’s blood can magically cure aids, Nightcrawler is a demon, a group of anti mutant extremists inact a plan to make nightcrawler pope, and Angel has sex with an underaged girl in front of her parents. Ha ha i’m in hell. 8 New Patrons: A Review of the ORIGINAL She Ra series from the 80s! For those less familiar with it myself included it’ll be a rich full look at what she ra was like before it was OPENLY gay. It will be vast as it is rediculous. 9. New Patrons: Darkwing Duck Comics Retrospective! A look at the utterly awesome Boom and Joe Books ongoings that updated our daring duck of mystery for a new era. 10 New Patrons: She Ra and the Pricnesses of Power Retrospective: all 5 seasons of the gayest, grandest space opera in animation history!

And if that wasn’t enough i’m adding THREE BONUS GOALS. While the rest of these goals will stay put, these goals are exclusive to this pledge drive.

5 New Patrons by End of August: A review of the “This Duckburg Life” Podcast , Seasons 1 and 2 of final space and seasons 1-5, the movie and future of steven unvierse reviewed! 10 New Patrons by End of August: Infinity Train: Seasons 1-4 reviewed. 1 New Patron By the End of July: The Great North Season 1 5 New Patrons by End of July: A Review of the Danny Phantom Film “The Ultimate Enemy” It’s Eric Roberts as an evil future Danny whose a combination of the Maestro and Venom do you really need a hard sell here? 10 New Patreons by the End of July: A look at All 5 Seasons of Rick and Morty. Yes i’m throwing myself into that fandom snakepit.

So yeah a LOT of stuff. I can’t promise it’ll be done all at once especailly if I somehow magically hit ALL these goals by july, i’ll have to meter it out but I do promise you WILL get all of this if you help me. I get some fincial security and you get a shit ton of review content.

So if you want to help me review ANY of the stuff you see simply sign up at PATREON.COM/POPCULTUREBUFFET TODAY. That’s PATREON.COM/POPCULTUREBUFFET in case you mention it. Help me pitch in on the groceries TODAY. Just ONE DOLLAR a month helps and will reach hit a goal.

#amphiba #the owl house #tuca and bertie #infinity train #rick and morty #scott pilgrim #america chavez #chuck austen #x-men #gravity falls #alex hirsch #she ra #she ra and the princeses of power #she ra princess of power #darkwing duck #carl barks #the great north #danny phantom

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obsidian-aurora · 4 years ago

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Why I feel so sad for Xiao Zhan for winning the Weibo King award again in 2021

Right now you might see a lot of people spreading the fact that Xiao Zhan won Weibo King again with joy and happiness. I can only personally feel sadness and regret. Because when I look back at the year 2020, and what Xiao Zhan went through, Weibo had a big part to play in that story. They took advantage of his pain to make money and profit from it. They did little to stop what was happening because to them it was traffic.

His fans who left the 85 million votes for him for Weibo King probably weren’t thinking about what Weibo means to Xiao Zhan. They weren’t thinking about how Xiao Zhan disengaged from the platform completely, moving his small interactions over to Oasis and Douyin to escape the toxicity inherent in the conversations taking place on Weibo. All that they were thinking was “We want to show him how much we love him!”

Well you know what I think is love? Listening to your own idol’s words.

Let’s take a small journey back through 2020 and listen to Xiao Zhan’s own words on what he wanted his fans to do this year.

I won’t rehash 227 itself - if you want my take on that event, then I’ll write another blog post about that, it being almost a year I’m probably finally reaching a point where I can discuss it rationally without bursting into tears remembering my own personal experience with it. But rather, let’s take a look at what happened after 227.

On March 1, Xiao Zhan studio issued their first official statement. What did they say?

Recently, we have noticed some controversies about Xiao Zhan fans, occupying some social public resources, and also causing trouble to everyone. We deeply regret and apologize for the impact of this incident. We are very grateful to all fans for their support and love to Xiao Zhan. At the same time, we also sincerely call on all love to be positive, and hope that everyone can chase stars rationally. While doing a good job of self-protection during the epidemic, we will work together in a more positive way and support things that bring positive energy to society.

On April 24, Xiao Zhan said something and his studio reposted.

@X玖少年团肖战DAYTOY What’s past is past, I’ll remember it by heart. Thank you for all the criticism with good intensions, I’m working hard to improve.

Xiao Zhan Studio April 25th 00:03 #肖战新歌光点# The light spot moves towards love. Please listen, @X玖少年团小战DAYTOY 's voice. ♥

And again, Xiao Zhan studio.

Xiao Zhan Studio April 25th at 14:27 Thank you for your love and support for Mr. Xiao Zhan and his works. In this studio, as always, I solemnly appeal to everyone to continue to take care of their study, work and life at the same time, and to distinguish the truth and not blindly follow in the thousands of voices. Thank you for your wise support. Every love, no matter how big or small, is a meaningful point of light, gathered together to form the most beautiful light.

When He Jiong was attacked, Xiao Zhan jumped in to say:

@X玖少年团肖战DAYTOY Sorry to disturb everyone, don't hurt others!

Xiao Zhan Studio April 27, 15:04 Please stop slandering and spreading rumors!

He gave his first interview after 227 on May 6. He expanded upon the statement he made on April 24 when he said he was working hard to improve. He spoke about the controversy, the responsibility he feels as a public figure, and his desire not to control his fans but to guide them to do positive works like participate in charity that improves society. He felt like as an artist, his role was to continue to improve his acting and his singing.

“As for the people who love and support me, I hope they won’t do some extreme things, or hurt other people, or even hurt themselves. I hope that they can protect and love themselves, and live their lives well. Live their lives well.” “And if it’s possible, outside of school and work, we can do things together to help others and contribute to society in a meaningful way.” “I think charity is a part of an ordinary person’s social responsibility.”

youtube

Again in May, following a controversy when a teacher recorded her classroom cheering him on, Xiao Zhan was forced to make statements encouraging his fans to live their lives well.

@X玖少年团肖战DAYTOY Please listen to me carefully again! I hope everyone puts their studies, work, and life in front of star chasing. Study hard and work hard. Do your responsibilities and obligations, and abide by professional standards and industry bottom lines. I don't need help.

Xiao Zhan Studio May 10 at 23:26 I hope everyone puts their work and life first 🙏

Xiao Zhan Studio May 11 at 21:14 Starting from us, we hope that each of us can do things that are beneficial to society and be positive.

A school is a temple of knowledge, a place for preaching and teaching, not a fan factory for celebrities. Children's education is related to the future of the country, and the development of youth values is related to the hope of the nation, and it must not become a tool for chasing stars.

Furthermore, over the course of this time period Xiao Zhan Studio met with the organizers of his official fan organization and they rebranded the Fanclub to Xiao Zhan Film and Television Support Club to emphasize their goal to focus on his works and his works only. They released a statement with their intent and called on all members to do the following:

Xiao Zhan Studio May 15 20:01 If you see the good, you will move, and if you have, you will change. Start with me and work hard together. 1. Do not support business and works with behaviors beyond our own economic capacity. 2. No more activities such as ranking, controlling and appraising and cheering. 3. Accept all well-intentioned criticism and don't maliciously attack others. 4. Continue to actively participate in public welfare advocacy. 5. Focus on Xiao Zhan's work such as film and music.

Take particular note here of the specific call out not to participate in activities such as ranking (like the Weibo King votes).

In July, when his own fans were accused of cyber bullying others again, Xiao Zhan studio released a statement saying that they would defend any victim of cyber bullying, even someone bullied by his own fans.

Xiao Zhan Studio June 30 at 21:42 No matter who is responsible for his words and deeds, we support all those who are suffering from cyber violence or personal attacks on the Internet, and bravely take up legal weapons to protect themselves. Regardless of who’s a fan, taking legal measures is a legitimate behavior

@易胜华律师 Recently, some netizens posted on Weibo that they had suffered online violence for publicly publishing criticisms against Mr. Xiao Zhan. Entrusted by Mr. Xiao Zhan, we issued the following lawyer's statement: We welcome all kind criticisms and reminders, and resolutely oppose and resist all cyber violence. No matter who the cyber violence is directed at, it is an illegal act and should bear corresponding legal responsibilities. We are willing to provide legal assistance to the above-mentioned parties who have been violated by online violence, and we are also willing to provide assistance within our capacity for their rights protection operations. Yi Shenghua Lawyer Wang Xiaoyan Lawyer June 30, 2020

In July, Xiao Zhan and Xiao Zhan Studio met up with representatives from Weibo to discuss the cyber bullying that he had been subjected to this year. But was this at Weibo’s own desire to clean up their platform? No. This whole time Weibo was profiting from every hot search that drove more traffic to their platform. It was the Cyberspace Administration of China that DIRECTED Weibo to clean up their mess.

Over the years we have seen Weibo ban accounts from time to time that are so blatant with their cyber attacks that they have no other choice. But often they will wait until stars pursue legal action before doing so. And they will only release the real-world IDs of users when under a police investigation pursuant to a lawsuit. I’m not suggesting the platform should start doxxing its own users, but rather ban all malicious and slanderous behaviour from the outset. Right now under Chinese law anyone with over 30,000 fans who says slander against another can be pursued by the law. Weibo should act before it needs to come to that.

Chinese Star News did an interesting video on Fanquan culture and the ways in which Weibo profits from it. If you haven’t seen it yet, it’s worth a watch.

Ever since the summer, Xiao Zhan has been very careful and direct in all his public interactions. Most of his events were pre-recorded. Only at the end of the year did he start doing live events again, and when he was surrounded by friends he was okay, but as we could see from the recent iQiyi event when he is without friends around him he still struggles.

April 12 - Hymn of the Red Plum Blossom (pre-recorded)

May 6 - Interview with China News Service (pre-recorded)

May 9 - Bamboo in the Stone (pre-recorded)

May 10 - Mother's Day live stream (live) (unannounced) (no fan interactions)

June 11 - Xiao Zhan goes to do agricultural charity activity (pre-recorded)

June 15 - Xiao Zhan releases summer cocktail video (pre-recorded)

Aug 17 - Xiao Zhan RoseOnly live stream (pre-recorded)

October 19 - Xiao Zhan at Shanghai Reading Film and Television event (pre-recorded)

October 25 - Xiao Zhan sang Brightest Star in the Night Skies (pre-recorded)

Dec 20 - Xiao Zhan attends Tencent Awards (live) with friends around him

Dec 31 - Xiao Zhan attends New Year party (live) with friends around him

Jan 15 2021 - Xiao Zhan attends iQiyi Scream Night (no friends) (does not look happy/comfortable)

It must have been SO hard for Xiao Zhan to continue to work behind the scenes in 2020, recording his new show Ace Troops, attending some events in secret, shooting some advertisements that he wasn’t sure would be able to make it to the air - and some events that got leaked and then had his portion cut out. It must have been so, so hard.

So to me, the least that we can do as fans is to listen to what Xiao Zhan has asked of us. And over and over again he said that all he wanted from his fans was for us to live our lives well. To not do extreme things. He wants things to go smoothly. He wants to take his time, to choose his events carefully, and come back at his own pace.

So what do his fans do? They massively vote for him to win the Weibo King award. This has put him in an impossible position.

Either he needs to decline the award, and face criticism from everyone about being arrogant in a year that he should be grateful. Or he has to suck it up and show up to an award hosted by a platform that did little to nothing to help him when he was in pain, and instead in fact profited from his pain.

He will have to put a smile on his face and say thank you for recognizing that I was a high traffic star last year, even when the majority of his traffic was due to cyber attacks.

Why would his fans put him in this impossible position? Back when this award was first announced, his own major fan club leaders requested fans not to vote for Weibo King. If you wanted to vote for anything, then you should vote for his acting role in The Wolf, because that was about his professional work - not for Weibo King, which is literally like an award for Prom King. It’s a popularity award, nothing more.

Will Weibo King help him to come back faster? No. Will it make industry leaders want to sign him on for more TV and film works? No. Speaking from experience working in the industry for many years, the only thing that industry professionals care about is ratings on the shows that are produced. And Xiao Zhan cannot rely on his fans alone for ratings. If his ratings are going to continue to increase, then he needs to attract the respect of a wider audience. And if that wider audience is already of the impression that Xiao Zhan is a loose canon because his fans are out of control, this massive over-rating of Weibo King only reinforces that belief.

Just look at this graph.

Xiao Zhan fans are posting it with pride, saying look how well we did! Xiao Zhan trounced the competition! But the reality is that all other stars’ fan groups had also instructed their fans not to vote for this award, because they all see it for what it is - a popularity contest that can hurt more than it can help. Xiao Zhan winning by such a large margin only shows how little his fans listen to him.

Now instead of Xiao Zhan deciding for himself when and where to come back, what events he wishes to attend, he’s going to have to make an appearance at this awards show and slap a smile on his face and say thank you.

Thank you Weibo, for profiting off my pain.

It makes me sick.

If you voted for Xiao Zhan in this award, take a moment to think about Xiao Zhan’s words for your future behaviour.

Live your lives well

Don’t do extreme things

Don’t spread rumours

Accept criticism and don’t attack others

Don’t protect me

If you can, do charity and help others

If you are following your own idol’s wishes, then I salute you. You are the type of fan Xiao Zhan will cherish.

#xiao zhan #227 #weibo king #xiao zhan weibo king #weibo

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terreisa · 4 years ago

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Love Down the Line: Chapter 12

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch. When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept. Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones. With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, AO3

~*CS*~

Boston, June 8th

Emma shifted from foot to foot in front of the door marked 520. It had taken her over a week to get her shit together and make the trip that she’d originally intended to make the morning after her show in Vancouver. Of course that had been before her phone had blown up with calls and texts about Killian’s video, which had hit a million views before the sun had even risen. It had also been before the small gaggle of paparazzi had grown to a crowd and forced her to use the same back door to leave the hotel that she’d used to enter it the night before. Those were the excuses she told herself in the light of day. She was much more honest with herself at three in the morning when she couldn’t sleep.

In the dead of night it was easy to admit that she was a fucking coward. Killian had laid his heart bare for the entire world to see, and judge, and all she’d done was call her manager. Granted she’d had to take a dressing down and listen to a frustrated rant meant for someone else but that was nothing compared to the self flagellation she’d been doing since she’d landed in Portland and driven north instead of heading south. To add an extra layer to her guilt she watched Killian’s video two or three times a day and that didn’t even count how many times she only pulled up the song portion. That, in the end, had been what decided it for her.

She’d tried finding the song on every streaming service and on every platform that sold downloads but it wasn’t anywhere. For the entire week she’d checked every morning when she woke up and every night before she went to bed but the song only seemed accessible in the video he posted. The temptation to illegally download it had crossed her mind once or twice but she’d been able to hold herself in check, mostly because she knew the audio quality would suck but even more so because it felt almost cowardly. That that would be the thing to somehow tip off Killian that she would rather torture herself with a shitty copy of the song he wrote for her than to actually talk to him.

It took far too long for her to piece together that because it couldn’t be downloaded or streamed meant that he wasn’t making any kind of profit from it. When she finally did she felt like her heart had been plucked out of her chest and was on the precipice of being ground into dust. She’d been out the door and on her way to Boston within five minutes of her realization and long before she could talk herself out of it.

The four hour drive had given her plenty of time to think over some things. How she felt about him, really, truly felt about him, for one. While Killian had pretty much said that he loved her she wasn’t so sure that was what she was feeling in return. She definitely liked him, a lot, so much so that the weeks since she’d practically ghosted him she’d grown used to the constant ache under her breastbone. The restless nights and obsessing over his video seemed a bit much but she could easily admit to herself that she missed him. It didn’t necessarily mean that she loved him, they’d really only been together for a matter of days after all.

Then there was the slight issue of what the hell she was going to say to him. An apology was a given. On the flight back to Portland from Vancouver she’d finally admitted to herself that she might have possibly, slightly overreacted when she’d heard about Killian’s record contract. She wasn’t completely in the wrong, he had lied and hidden things from her, but she definitely could have at least listened to what he’d had to say. That was another thing, she was going to keep her damn mouth shut after she apologized and let him say whatever it was that he needed to say to her.

Her planning and imagined conversations got her into Boston but once she’d parked her car she’d begun to worry. There was every possibility that he’d refuse to speak to her, that he’d take one look at her darkening his doorstep and slam the door in her face. He might not even open the door at all, just see her distorted image through the peephole and decide not to bother. By the time she’d reached his apartment she’d worked herself up so much with the ‘what ifs’ that she couldn’t bring herself to even knock on the damn door.

She’d been psyching herself up for at least ten minutes, raising her fist in a burst of courage only to drop it as another wave of unease washed over her. As she lifted her hand for the fifth or fiftieth time one of his neighbors slammed their door shut. Startled, her knuckles tapped the door, softly but enough to make a definite sound. Resigned and relieved she sucked in a deep breath and soundly knocked twice, stepping back quickly so if he did look through the peephole he’d clearly see that it was her on the other side.

For a few agonizing moments she stood, waiting. The neighbor who had slammed their door passed her by, giving her a curious look but kept walking. She briefly wondered if he knew he lived on the same floor as potential rock legend. The thought fled her mind when she heard the slide of a lock disengaging and the door in front of her slowly opened.

She could tell that Killian hadn’t been sleeping as soon as he stepped into view, there were dark purple shadows under his eyes that hadn’t shown up in his video. His hair was even more of a disheveled mess than it had been in the video too, and longer. He was wearing a pair of thin blue flannel lounge pants and a threadbare grey t-shirt with a rip at the collar and a faded Led Zeppelin logo. She’d never seen a more heartbreakingly beautiful sight.

“How-”

“Regina mostly,” she rushed to explain. It was way easier to tell him how she found him instead of why she had wanted to, “Robin helped with the doorman though.”

“They’re old friends,” he murmured absently. His gaze darted all over her, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was there, “Tuck put in a good word for me with the board when I decided to move here after rehab. Why are you here Emma?”

She winced, “Can we, um, go inside. I really don’t want to do this out here.”

Something flared bright in Killian’s eyes as his mouth tightened. She almost expected him to cross his arms and refuse. Saying everything she needed to say out in the hallway would have been embarrassing and awkward as hell but she was prepared to do it. In fact, she realized she would do almost anything to just get him to give her a chance. He must have seen that in her own eyes as he gave her a terse nod, stepping back into the apartment and opening the door wider for her to pass through.

As she walked by him she resisted the urge to reach out and brush her fingers against the back of his hand or worse, stop completely to wrap her arms around him and never let him go. Every ounce of courage she’d lacked before was suddenly filling her from root to tip. She was still nervous as hell but she wasn’t about to destroy everything for once and for all by chickening out at the last second. If things didn’t go the way she wanted it wouldn’t be because she decided that giving up was easier than fighting them.

Her steps slowed to a stop as she fully stepped into the spacious apartment. One of the living room walls was floor to ceiling shelves filled with books, cds, and vinyls while the second had an impressive entertainment system with a giant tv that had a soccer game frozen on its screen. There was a cozy looking couch and matching chair facing it that broke up the space between the living room and breakfast bar and the kitchen. What really caught her eye was the view from the sliding glass doors behind a round dining table that opened to a small balcony. It wasn’t full dark but the facade of the State House was already lit, its golden dome gleaming dimly.

“Nice view,” she muttered quietly.

“You were more excited by the one in Malibu,” Killian said flatly, startling her as he stepped up beside her. He gave her a wry grin, “Bit jumpy there, Swan? Don’t worry I won’t bite.”

She turned fully towards him and held his gaze, “I’m more nervous than worried.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked but he didn’t look away. After a moment he gave a small sigh and moved toward the kitchen.

“I’d offer you a stiff drink but chamomile will have to do.”

He brushed past her, moving into the kitchen. When she didn’t move he huffed and pointed to one of the high backed stools tucked under the breakfast bar. She gave him a small smile and when he turned his back to her to open a cupboard she shook her head at her nervousness. Silently admonishing herself she sat down and watched him move around the space, a defensive set to his shoulders as he gathered the things for their tea and set an electric kettle to boil. Once there was nothing left for him to fiddle with he turned back to her, leaning casually against the far counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

“So it took you ten days to ask Regina where to find me?” He asked in that same flat voice.

Despite his attempt to sound indifferent she could hear the hurt in his words. As much as she knew her answer would only serve to harm him more she couldn’t lie to him. There was enough of that between them already.

“I called her as soon as I finished watching your video-” she dropped her gaze to where her hands were folded on the bartop, not quite strong enough to watch him react to her answer, “ten days ago.”

Her confession was met with silence. She could hear the water in the kettle start to boil and the gentle hum of the refrigerator but that was it. After a few seconds of quiet torture she steeled herself and looked up, needing to know exactly how pissed he was at her. What she saw didn’t disappoint.

He hadn’t moved an inch, still leaning against the counter but there was nothing casual about it. Every one of his muscles were tense, his fingers digging into his bicep with enough force to turn them white while his eyes were two chips of ice, cold enough to burn as he stared her down. She was almost relieved at seeing the signs of his anger, anything was better than the indifference he’d been displaying before. The kettle clicked off but he showed no sign of noticing aside from the slight tightening of his jaw.

As he glared at her she tried not to let her own frustration and anger flare up. There were still so many things that they needed to talk about and any one of them could have him throwing her out of the apartment. She wasn’t about to be meek or amenable but she sure as hell wasn’t about to keep poking the beast that she’d awakened.

“Honey?” He growled.

She blinked, “Wha- what?”

“In your tea-” he uncrossed his arms and gestured to the mugs beside him, “Honey?”

“Um, yeah, that’s fine.”

He gave her a terse nod and began fixing their tea. With his back turned to her she took a deep, calming breath. She was no longer nervous, his reaction had been pretty much what she’d expected and that part was over with. Instead a hollow ache of longing had settled in her chest. There was nothing she wanted more than to talk like they used to, open and without pretense but also with a bit of teasing and flirting thrown in for good measure.

Killian topped his mug off with a splash of milk before turning and handing hers over. It was a white mug with a line drawing of a guitar and the words ‘I’m a kettle head’ written over it. She couldn’t help her snort of laughter at the sight of it.

“Something funny, Swan?” He asked with a raised brow, his cup of tea halfway to his lips.

She spun the mug so the graphic faced him, “Gag gift or did you buy this yourself?”

He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea but she could see his ears turning red. She let her own eyebrow tick up as he swallowed, shaking his head.

“Gift from a fan, actually. I made mention in an interview years ago that I enjoyed a good cup of tea in the afternoon. I’m still receiving packages of tea and its related wares on a steady basis-” he tipped his head towards her mug, “That was one of the more clever ones.”

Spinning it back so she could grasp it by the handle she hesitated. The opening was clear for her to start the conversation that needed to be had. She knew she should take advantage of it but he was no longer glaring at her and she wanted to bask in the small reprieve she’d found herself in. To prolong the moment she took a sip of her tea, humming at the soothing warmth and delicate flavor that danced over her tongue. The corner of Killian’s mouth ticked up and her heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“Not as good as my hot chocolate but it’ll do,” she teased.

Emma knew she’d pushed his patience to its breaking point a half second too late. Killian’s smile flared for a second before he pressed his lips together in a thin line and turned his gaze away from her. Her own small grin slipped and she berated herself for expecting too much too soon. She waited, quiet and still, until he looked back at her.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes widened and he let out a little huff of surprise but she barreled on, needing to get it all out.

“I’m sorry for so many things, waiting ten days to show up, not calling the second I finished watching your video, blocking your number so you couldn’t call me, fighting with you when I answered Ruby’s phone-”

“Swan-”

“I get that you’re mad at me. Good, you should be. I was terrible to you and I know it’s no excuse but I was hurt and you lied to me, but I still should have given you a chance to explain-” she gave a little hiccuping laugh, “God, if you’d done that to me and showed up at my house I would have slammed the door in your face and been done with it. And you? You invited me in for tea? Why?”

Killian shook his head with a huff. She could see his smile threatening to break loose again and the sight mystified her. He saw her bewilderment and pushed off the counter behind him with his hip, setting his mug in front of hers and leaned into her space, gently taking her hand in his.

“Don’t you know, Emma?” He asked, painfully earnest. “You said you watched the video, so you must know.”

“You’re mad at me,” she pointed out, even as she gripped his hand.

He tilted his head, considering her, “I am but that doesn’t change how I feel.”

“I’m not sure how I feel,” she confessed in a whisper, “I know I hated not talking to you late at night or being near you almost constantly but…”

She trailed off, unsure how to proceed without stoking either of their tempers again. Killian’s thumb ran over the back of her hand, encouraging her, and she reveled in the feeling. He gave her an encouraging nod and she took a fortifying breath.

“You lied to me-” he winced and tried to pull his hand from hers but she held on fast, “You lied and if whatever this is between us is going to work I need to know why. I promise to actually listen this time.”

He gave her a pained smile, “And if you don’t like what you hear?”

“I won’t know until you tell me,” she countered softly.

“Alright,” he said with a nod, one that seemed more for himself than for her. “Alright, but can you promise me one more thing?”

“Anything,” she agreed quickly.

“No interruptions. I think it’ll do us both good to have it all out in one go.”

She used her free hand to mime that she was locking her lips and throwing away the key. He gave her a small snort of a laugh, no longer looking pained or apprehensive, which had been her goal. As she gently squeezed his hand in encouragement she really hoped she’d be able to keep her promise.

Killian blew out a harsh breath and began, “Are you familiar with Cora Hart?”

Her eyebrows shot up and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her mouth shut. Cora Hart was the agent of all agents. Her firm was the one every struggling artist wished would represent them because every one of their clients was a superstar or on their way to being one. To be one of her personal clients was like getting a golden ticket to everlasting fame, fortune, and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. However, it came with a price and Emma wasn’t entirely convinced that it wasn’t someone’s soul. Plus Cora Hart was known by everyone in the industry as ‘that cold hearted bitch’. It was an unpleasant surprise to hear her name coming from Killian’s lips.

“Yes, I can see that you are,” he sighed. “She’s my agent.”

She grimaced. As much as she’d been prepared to hear it it still made her stomach drop. There were only so many ways his story was going to go and she wasn’t sure she was entirely ready to hear it, but she would, because she promised.

“I’ve been with her since the beginning. She found us playing at a small pub in Liverpool and snapped us up. If it weren’t for her we’d probably still be playing pub gigs but only on weekends-” he gave her a wan smile that didn’t last long, “I owe a lot to that woman, not everything but enough to know not to question her decisions on where to take my career. Even if I wanted to seek different representation she’s got me in an iron clad contract for at least three solo albums.”

“What?!”

She couldn’t help her outburst. While it was normal for a record label to offer contracts like that, she’d signed one herself for that matter, she was pretty sure it wasn’t standard for an agent to do the same. Then again she didn’t actually have an agent of her own. Regina was an employee of her label and didn’t need a separate contract with her and seemed more than happy to take care of everything herself. Emma thought that things had been working out alright, aside from the fiasco that had put her right where she found herself at that very moment.

“I have been bound by this contract for quite a while, Swan,” he said wryly. “Since even before the accident.”

“But that’s gotta be extortion or something, right?” She asked indignantly. “I mean, it’s been almost fifteen years!”

He gave her a warm look, “There are plenty of people who have been with their agents for much longer and I thought I said no interruptions, love.”

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

“Realm of Jewels made Cora a very rich woman and an equally hot commodity in the industry. I had already planned to do a few solo albums and signed with her because she was someone I already knew. Back then I thought three albums was nothing, I had written material for at least six,” he said with a shrug. “After the accident and pulling myself out of the bottle she was gracious enough to allow me to do whatever I needed to do to get my life back on track. Even if it meant nothing more than doing recording sessions for other artists’ work. Of course, her patience could only be pushed so far and I’m sure I’d far exceeded the limit. She started not so gently reminding me of my contractual obligations about a year ago.

“At the time I figured I could piecemeal something together from my old lyrics and maybe a cover or two to get an album together. It wouldn’t have been great, fair to middling if anything, but it would have been enough to satisfy Cora for the time being. I wasn’t excited by the prospect and in the meantime I was still being hired for session recordings. One of which was for your album.”

Emma smiled and ducked her head. He’d made it sound like it was some great honor instead of a few hours work on a couple of songs. She didn’t even get to choose the musicians that got to record, that was all left up to the label, though she did get final say on how it sounded. That didn’t mean to say she hadn’t gone back to listen to those backing tracks almost as much as the song he’d written for her.

“It was the day we were recording for Snowdrops and Buttercups that I first met Regina. It just so happened to be the same day that Cora had come to the studio to once again remind me of my obligations. What I wasn’t aware of was the fact that Cora is Regina’s mother-” Emma’s head shot up at that and he nodded, “Whatever you do try to avoid being in the same room as them, especially when business is involved. I left the studio that day with my three album contract inexorably attached to the record label that Regina represented. There was also the small inconvenience of a series of deadlines being imposed. The first of which was having enough songs written to begin recording an album within six months. When Ruby called about needing a replacement I had about two months left to put something recordable together.”

Emma bit her lip. It was getting harder and harder to keep her comments and questions to herself. Especially with the bomb he’d dropped about Regina and Cora. She decided to take a sip of her tea instead. Before her mug even made it to her lips Killian was grinning widely at her.

“Go ahead, love,” he said with a bow of his head.

She slammed her mug down, splashing tea over her hand. With a hiss she shook off the droplets impatiently, ignoring Killian’s outstretched hand, not wanting to be deterred.

“Cora the heartless is Regina’s mother?! And if you had only two months to write an entire album why the hell were you allowed to come on tour with me? Is that why you had that lunch with Robin and Regina? For the album? Why didn’t you tell me all of this already?”

Killian’s expression immediately dropped into one of regret as she sat back, stunned at her directness. She absentmindedly rubbed at the reddened spot on the back of her hand that the tea had spilled on. The lingering pain was an excellent distraction from the tension that had sprung up between them. With a click of his tongue Killian moved to the sink, wetting the corner of a dish rag. When he turned back to her he paused and she gave him a nod, holding out her hand to him hoping he would see it as the olive branch she was offering.

“At first it didn’t seem as though it would be an issue,” he said quietly as he gently pressed the rag to her burn, “You only needed a temporary guitarist and as I mentioned earlier I had dozens of notebooks already filled with lyrics that would suffice. Regina was the one who scheduled the meeting with Robin as soon as I was officially attached to the tour. I believe her intention at the time was for me to hand over the completed songs and get the ball rolling as it were. She, of course, had no idea that you and I would become what we did.”

“Did you, um, have any idea?” She asked hesitantly, dropping her gaze to where his hand was still holding the damp cloth to the back of hers.

He used his other hand to tip up her chin and looked her in the eye, “I’d hoped but I could never be quite sure how you felt. Until Chicago.”

She wanted to confess that her hopes had started long before Chicago. That he had somehow snuck past her defenses into her heart with his charm and unwavering support but she couldn’t. He still hadn’t answered the question that mattered most to her. With a sigh she pulled away from his gentle touch.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me any of this,” she said a bit sharper than she intended, her frustration and confusion bleeding into her tone. “We talked for hours on that damn bus. I listened to you talk about how much better felt tip pens are than ball points three separate times! Was it really so hard to say ‘by the way, Swan, I’ve signed with your manager and have to get an album written while we’re on the road’?”

He let out a heavy breath and ran a hand through his hair, “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“And look where that got you,” she said with a humorless chuckle waving her hand between them. “If you’d said something off the bat I would have been pissed at you for, like maybe a week, and I also wouldn’t have gotten my heart broken.”

Emma froze. She hadn’t meant to make that confession, especially when she wasn’t even one hundred percent sure what it was she felt for him. Killian seemed caught off guard too, as he stood staring at her with wide eyes and not appearing to breathe. He blinked and closed the small distance between them but made no move to touch her.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he murmured.

“You’re glad to hear I got my heart broken?” Her voice cracked and she pulled as far back from him as she could.

“If it can be broken, it means it still works,” he said softly but she could hear the hope in his words all the same. “I know I hurt you immeasurably, love, and I’ve earned no right to a second chance but if you can see it in you to do so I’ll gladly spend the rest of my days earning your back your trust and, perhaps in time, your heart.”

“Killian…”

“Finish your tea, Swan,” he said with a tight smile though his eyes were sparkling with the same hope she’d heard, “Don’t want it to get cold.”

She stared down at the amber liquid and watched the curling tendrils of steam as though they’d give her some kind of sign of what to do. They didn’t, of course, not that she really believed it would be that easy. There were still so many questions she wanted to ask but only one really mattered. Guarding herself against a final blow she looked up at him with determination.

“Were you ever going to tell me about any of it? Or was it always your plan for me to find out from someone else?”

Killian jolted back, as though she’d slapped him. He shook his head with a sigh before running a hand over his face. When he caught her eye again the hope had been replaced with pain and a flash of the anger she’d thought was behind them.

“I’d intended to tell you everything the night of the interview over the dinner we were supposed to share at my home. I suppose it was fortuitous that I’d listened to it or I would have sat with our meal laid out on the table, waiting for hours for your arrival. As it was I had to endure one of Regina’s assistants traipsing through the house, gathering your items and ignoring my pleas to explain what the hell was going on. Then, of course, there was to be no explanations forthcoming for nearly three days and absolute devastation once I’d received them. But after all that my feelings for you never changed, not once.”

Emma sucked in a breath at that. Even as he was justifiably dressing her down for what she’d done he was still playing it safe. He’d never stated outright what he felt for her but she knew without a doubt what he wasn’t saying. Funny thing was, his caution made her realize exactly what she felt for him with startling clarity. She gave a little laugh that bordered on manic but she was helpless against the sudden euphoria she was feeling.

Killian glared at her, “I won’t have you laughing-”

“I love you.”

The words seemed to hang between them in the quiet kitchen like a line cast out to the unknown. She could only hope that Killian would grasp onto them and tether her heart to his. As the silence stretched out she found she only wished she had told him sooner instead of dragging out both their heartaches. Shaking her head at her own stubborn foolishness she gave him a tremulous smile.

“I love you and I’m sorry. I was trying so hard to protect myself from getting hurt again that I just hurt us both so much more instead. I’m so tired of feeling like I tore a piece of my own heart out. You said your feelings haven’t changed. I want this. I want us. Do you?”

Instead of answering her with words Killian moved at a speed that surprised her. Almost before she had finished the question he was standing in front of her, his arms bracketing her with his hands on the back of the chair and the counter. His expression was deadly serious but his eyes were lit with joy as he leaned into her space.

“Swan, I want nothing more.”

Her smile was cut off by his lips pressing to hers. She gasped as one of his hands delved into her hair while the other banded around her waist, his thumb stroking at the skin above the waistband of her jeans. It was as if he was pouring every emotion into the kiss. His passion, his elation, his fervor, and most of all his love. With a moan she pulled him impossibly closer, hooking her ankles around the back of his legs to draw him in.

To her surprise he broke away, leaning his forehead against hers, breathing heavily, “There’s one last thing that needs to be said.”

“Now?” She panted, arching up slightly to nip at his lower lip. “Can’t it wait?”

“Not really,” he groaned. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, sliding his mouth to her ear where he quietly sang to her, “But I wouldn't trade a day for the chance to say, My love, I'm in love with you.”

Tears welled in her eyes as he pulled back, looking at her as though she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He gently brushed away the few tears that had fallen with a finger, following closely behind with soft kisses that travelled across her cheeks, leaving her wanting more. By the time he moved to her mouth the heat between them had returned but she leaned back before he could press more than one delicate kiss to her lips.

“Emma,” he growled, his hand flexing on the back of her neck, his eyes hot.

“You know, you never gave me a tour of the place-” she gave him a teasing smile and gave an exaggerated look around, “I bet there’s all sorts of interesting rooms.”

He caught on quickly, his smile unfurling into something wicked, “Indeed there are, my love. Shall we begin with the bedroom?”

He didn’t give her the chance to answer as he swiftly pulled her up from her chair and tugged her quickly down the hallway.

Much, much later Emma was seated back at the breakfast bar in nothing but her underwear and Killian’s Led Zeppelin shirt. Her feet were perched in Killian’s lap, which was covered by dark blue boxer briefs that he’d only pulled on when the pizza they’d ordered had arrived. She tried to smother a giddy grin behind her crust but he caught sight of it and raised a brow at her.

“Something you’d like to share, Swan?”

“I’m just-” she gave a little shrug, “happy. I guess I’m still trying to process it.”

“I know what you mean, love,” he agreed, his hand dropping to her ankle to give it a squeeze. “If someone had told me yesterday that we would be here tonight, like this, I wouldn’t have believed them. Now, if they’d predicted us reconciling by the end of the week I wouldn’t have questioned it.”

“No?” She asked, humming in pleasure at the confidence in his voice.

“You’re not the only one who can wheedle an address out of Regina,” he said with a wink. Then he grew serious, “If I hadn’t heard from you by the end of the week I was planning on driving up to Maine to plead my case.”

“I’m surprised she gave it to you,” she mumbled around a bite of her crust. “She was all worried about you breaching your contract because of deadlines two weeks ago. A side trip to Maine would definitely eat into your studio time or something.”

“Oh-” Killian scratched behind his ear and then said offhandedly, “I’ve, er, been in breach of my contract since I posted that video, love.”

Her last bite fell from her fingers as she gaped at him. A flush was rising along the back of his neck and he gave her a sheepish smile.

“What?”

“Well, according to some of the very fine print in it I was forbidden from releasing any music by means other than through the label-” he shrugged and waved a hand as though dismissing the seriousness of the situation, “My lawyer assures me that at most I’ll only have to pay a minimal fine.”

“Pay a…” she brought her palms to her temples, “Killian that’s still going to be thousands of dollars.”

“I would have posted a hundred unsanctioned songs and paid every cent I have to my name just to get you to talk to me again,” he said matter of factly. He leaned over and plucked the piece of crust from her lap, tossing it into the open pizza box before fixing her gaze with his, “And it would have been worth it. You are worth everything.”

She dropped her hands with a huff, “Stop being romantic when I’m worrying about you.”

“Never,” he said with a wide grin that made his eyes crinkle. “And you don’t need to worry about me, Swan, I’m a survivor.”

“I love you,” she said with a shrug, “I’ll always worry about you.”

His grin mellowed into something that made her feel warm and cherished. He leaned over and grasped her stool, dragging it towards him until the already small distance between them was narrowed so only a puff of air could pass through. She gave a wayward thought to the state of his floors at the abuse they suffered but it vanished as his hand came up to cup her jaw, his thumb drawing a delicate arc across her cheekbone.

“I love you too,” he murmured just above a whisper, his eyes intent on hers, “I always will.”

Her happy sigh was swallowed by his lips on hers. The kiss was far more gentle than any of the others they had shared, even the ones from before their separation. With a slight thrill she realized that they would have hundreds, even thousands, more kisses of all sorts in the years to come. As they parted she couldn’t help her giddy smile at the thought.

Killian raised his brow at her, his gaze teasing, “Already, Swan? We’ve only just surfaced.”

“What? No!” She laughed, pushing him back, “I mean, yeah but not like that. I was thinking about us kissing but years from now kind of kisses.”

“Years from now,” he repeated in awe. He leaned back towards her, “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too,” she sighed. Then she crinkled her nose at him, “Even if I do end up supporting you because you have to keep paying fines since you’re a big YouTube star now. I know how you guys gotta keep posting content.”

“Har, har, love. Just so you know, Cora has already spun this in my favor,” he said smugly. “She’s convinced the label that it’s the perfect way to garner attention for my forthcoming album. Which is why I’ll only be paying a minimal fine instead of what it easily could have been.”

Emma sat back, “So you’re still going to do it? Record the album?”

“Not exactly, no,” he said with a crooked smile, “The songs I was planning on recording before are, quite honestly, rubbish. I’ve had a wellspring of inspiration these past few weeks. Robin is quite pleased with them as a matter of fact and he’s not hold back over the years when something of mine is only worthy of a bin. I’ll be heading to the studio once the whole contract debacle is taken care of. That is, of course, only if you agree.”

“Agree to what?” She asked, confused.

“The songs, my love-” he dropped his eyes for a moment and when he looked back up his gaze was wary, “You, us, what we’ve been through? Well… you know.”

And she did. She’d written dozens of songs about the man who’d left her in jail and pregnant and just as many about her lonely childhood in foster care. There was more than one notebook filled with longing ballads about the son she’d never even held. Hell, the notebook in her purse was pages of scribbles and half formed lyrics about Killian and their time together. So she knew exactly what he was getting at. She also had one niggling thought about it.

“Yeah, I do,” she said with a slow nod. Reaching towards him she took his hand between hers, “I think you should record the songs you’ve written, even the ones that I know don’t paint me in the best light, but I do have one request.”

“Anything,” he breathed, his hand flexing in hers.

“I don’t want to hear any of them until the final mix-” she let go of his hand to cover his mouth as he tried to protest, “No, hear me out first. I’m sure the songs are good, great even since Robin is excited about them, and that’s exactly why I want to wait to hear them. I know how much work goes into making an album and thanks to Ruby you know exactly how big a fan I am of your music. I just- I think I want to have that giddy moment listening to your first big solo album as the finished thing.”

Killian tugged her hand away from his lips and gave her a wry grin, “So you want to enjoy the sausage without seeing all the unappetizing steps of how it gets made?”

“Uh, weird analogy but yeah,” she said, relieved that it hadn’t caused another fight, “I wouldn’t mind seeing the pigs before slaughter though.”

“So you’ll berate me for the initial analogy but then proceed to take it to a much darker place. I see how your mind works, Swan,” Killian said with narrowed eyes and a look of mock sternness.

“I work with what I’m given,” she said with a shrug.

Killian huffed out a laugh before he grew serious, taking the hand that was still in his and placing them both over his heart, “You can look at every song I’ve ever written, love. Even the shit ones from primary school.”

She gave him a smile she knew was giddy, “Oh, I definitely want to look at those but I think for now I’ll stick to your most recent ones.”

“Wise decision,” he murmured,half rising from his stool, “Shall I go get them now?”

“No, it’s late, I can look at them tomorrow-” she flexed her fingers on his chest and when he looked back at her she tried to let him see every ounce of love she was feeling, “I’m not going anywhere.”

His smile unfurled slowly but adoration and love was bright in his eyes, “Good.”

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fan fic #cs fanfic #captain swan fan fiction #captain swan fan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #ouat ff #my writing

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ya-like-space · 5 years ago

Text

Oranges, A Warm Summer’s Breeze, and Home

Souji didn’t want to leave. In the short year he was there, Inaba had become his home. The only place he’d ever felt like he truly belonged. As he watched his friends and family grow farther and farther away from the train window, tears slowly started to run down his cheeks. He’s leaving behind the best thing that’s ever happened to him. When the platform was no more than a speck in the distance, Souji sat back in his seat. Closing his eyes, he drifts off to sleep.

He wakes up hours later to a station announcement. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he grabs his bag from the overhead. Stepping off the train, a rush of emotion hits him. It hadn’t been long since he’d been in Tokyo, but it felt like forever. It all felt wrong. A sense of unfamiliarity flowed throughout him as he walked through the busy streets. Compared to Inaba, everything was so much bigger.

Dreading walking into his parent’s apartment again, Souji stood outside the door, counting. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, ...10. Upon reaching 10, he flung open the door. Duffel bag in hand, he raced quickly and quietly to his bedroom. His parents weren’t home, and wouldn’t be for another two days. Couldn’t even make it home to greet their own son. Setting his bag down, he flopped onto his bed. He didn’t want to unpack, knowing if he did, the reality of the situation would set in. Instead, he settled for glaring at all the boxes already in his room. They had arrived days prior.

He can still remember how hard it was for him to pack. A part of him wanted to leave everything there, exactly how it was, so when he came back it would all be the same. But the rational part of him had won out, and he called Yosuke over to help him. Though it probably hadn’t been necessary, Souji had wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. They had gotten all of the things he was taking with him packed in only an hour. Leaving them the rest of the day to spend with each other. Not wanting to be in his empty room anymore, Yosuke had suggested they take a walk to the Samegawa. Or at least, that’s what Souji thought was going to happen.

Yosuke had confessed to him. Down by the riverbank, in the same place they had their fight. He had broken down when they got there, spilling his heart to Souji. Yosuke kissed him that day, arms looped around Souji’s back, hands in his hair. They walked home together hand in hand, tear tracks still visible on Yosuke’s cheeks.

Souji already misses Inaba, and he’s barely been in Tokyo an hour. It wasn’t fair that he had to leave. That he had to go back to an empty apartment, to parents who were never home, to parents who used him, and a new school of people who don’t know what he’s been through.

That night, Souji dreamt of a warm embrace and a rushing river.

Even though he really didn’t want to, Souji began unpacking his stuff. He started with the duffel bag, which was mostly empty. Other than a few changes of clothes, and his toiletries.

But when he opened the first box, instead of the muted black of the old t-shirt that Souji had thought would be on top, there was a rumpled lump of orange fabric on top, which was revealed to be a very familiar hoodie when he pulled it out of the box by one sleeve. It was one of Yosuke’s hoodies, the one he’d been wearing when he’d helped Souji pack up his room, in fact. Tears begin streaming down his face. Souji lifts the hoodie out of the box, burying his face in it. It smells like oranges, a warm summer's breeze, and home. He stays like this for a while, before attempting to compose himself. Flipping over the hoodie, he sees something that was previously hidden. A little pink sticky note, stuck to the underside of the cloth.

I’ll miss u partner <3

That breaks him. Souji crumples into a ball on the floor, unable to stop sobbing. A good 10 minutes go by before he can even think again. When he finally manages to collect himself, he gets an idea. His parents arrive tomorrow, so he’ll have to leave early in the morning. He buys a one way ticket to Inaba, and repacks all of his things. This has to work. Before he goes to bed, he sends a text to Dojima, telling him about the plan. Dojima immediately agrees, telling Souji he’ll pick him up from the station tomorrow.

Souji gets up the next morning, and writes a note to his parents. Placing it on the dining room table, it feels like a weight has been lifted from him. He walks back to the train station. On the ride back to Inaba, Souji wonders if he did the right thing. But then he looks down at the hoodie he slipped on that morning, before leaving. All doubts leave his mind at the first sight of orange. He rests his head against the window as the gentle rumbling of the train lulls him into a peaceful sleep.

When he wakes, the conductor is announcing Yasoinaba Station is only minutes away. Souji grabs his duffel bag and moves to the other side of the train. It’s almost like coming here the first time, with the empty compartment and empty station. He meets Dojima outside, getting into the passenger seat of the car.

“Hi.”

Dojima turns his head to look at him. Ruffling Souji’s hair he smiles, “Hey there kiddo. It’s good to see you.”

Souji smiles back at him.

“It’s only been a day,” he pauses, his expression softening slightly, “but I missed you too, Uncle.”

The drive back to the house is silent. But it’s the good kind of silence. The kind that calms you, and steadies your nerves. Souji’s half expecting to be bombarded by Nanako when they get inside, but instead, the house is dark.

“Nanako went to play at a friend’s house today. She should be home soon.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Souji had been excited to see his cousin, but he was fine with waiting. It would give him and his Uncle time to sort some things out.

“Now. Souji. Are you sure you want to do this? Because if you are,

I’m willing to do whatever needs to be done.”

Dojima wasn’t an idiot. He had seen the signs of abuse in his nephew when he had first arrived in Inaba, and as much as he would like to believe his sister wouldn’t do something like that, he knew it was true. And when Souji had sent him a message asking about this, well, he couldn’t deny it anymore. He cared about Souji, and wanted him to be safe.

“Yes. I’m sure. I don’t want to be a part of that family anymore, I don’t want to be treated like a doll, like I’m just there for their entertainment. I want to be here, with my real family.”

“That’s all I needed to know. Now let’s get this paperwork filled out.”

“Alright.”

Nanako arrived home hours after they had finished filing everything out. Her face had lit up upon seeing Souji.

“Big Bro!”

She jumped into him, squeezing her arms around his middle.

“What are you doing here?”

He smiles down at her.

“I decided I’m not going back to the city.”

“Yay!”

The three of them spent that night redoing Souji’s room, and eating take-away. Souji had decided he was gonna surprise Yosuke tomorrow. His shift at Junes ended at 3, so all he had to do was show up after it was over.

When Souji woke the next morning, Dojima was arguing with someone on the phone. Souji’s parents, most likely. He listened for a while, barely able to make out any of the words. They sounded angry, and he was glad that he didn’t have to deal with them. Dojima hung up the phone, finally noticing Souji.

“Hm? Oh, good morning Souji.”

“Are my parents angry?”

Dojima nodded, motioning for Souji to sit.

“They seem to think they own you, and that they reserve the right to control your every move.”

His expression darkened.

“Souji. You should’ve said something sooner.”

“I know. But I was afraid too.”

“Well, as long as you’re safe now.”

Souji smiled softly, “Yeah. I am.”

After speaking with his Uncle for a bit longer, and getting the last of the adoption papers filled, he headed to the Samegawa to kill time. It was a little hard getting there, since he nearly ran into Yukiko on the way. Souji wasn’t quite ready to tell the rest of the team he was in Inaba again, in case something went wrong. The only exception being Yosuke. He really wanted to see Yosuke again, but he had to wait. Souji spent the next few hours down by the riverbank, listening to the rushing water.

Before he knew it, it was almost 3, and Souji made his way to Junes. His plan was to wait near the back entrance, where Yosuke parks his bike. That way, if someone he knew was in Junes, they wouldn’t see him.

One minute. 30 seconds. 15 seconds. Now! Yosuke walked through the door, right on time. At first, he didn’t notice Souji was there. But then he saw him standing, right next to his bike. Yosuke barreled into him, laughing happily.

“Souji! What are you doing here?”

But then Souji said the best thing Yosuke had heard all day.

"I'm not going," suddenly Souji had him pushed up against a wall, and was kissing him. It wasn't a gentle kiss either, it was hard and demanding and so full of need that Yosuke started to feel a little dizzy.

"W-what?" he managed to stutter, utterly bewildered by the turn of events.

"Tell me you love me," Souji requested.

Now Yosuke definitely wasn’t expecting that, his face flushing a deep red. Souji was looking at him, but the look in his eyes was something Yosuke had never seen before. Something like panic, or desperation. For some reason Souji had come all the way back to Inaba, and the least Yosuke could do was grant this small request.

"I love you, Souji.”

Souji practically squeezed him to death in a hug, burying his face in the side of Yosuke's neck with a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

"Say it again," he repeated, voice muffled by Yosuke's shirt. Yosuke grinned, feeling warmth flow throughout him.

"I love you," he sighed, wrapping his arms around Souji in return.

There’s that smell again. Souji breathed in deeply. Oranges, a warm summer's breeze, and home.

Home.

He’s finally home.

@souyoweek2020 Day 6 | scent

One more day! I've had the idea for this fic in my head, ever since I finished the game for the first time. I always thought there should've been an ending where Souji got to stay in Inaba. This ended up being a tad bit heavier then i wanted, but it kind’ve took on a life of its own while I was writing it.

#souyoweek2020 #souyo #souji x yosuke #yu x yosuke #souji seta #yu narukami #persona 4 protagonist #yosuke hanamura #nanako dojima #ryotaro dojima #persona 4 #p4 #fanfic #fanart

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inkribbon796 · 4 years ago

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Like a House of Cards Ch. 7: Something Precious, Something Gained

Summary: As the dominos fall in the opposite direction, time ticks on.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

After the blast hit and Dark fell backwards, their form flicking and convulsing, the chaos around them froze in time.

Brody broke free of the magic pushing him away and both he and Wil raced over to Dark.

Wil took out his revolver and fired in the Guildmaster’s direction, screaming in a rage before leaping to Dark’s side.

“No! No!” Brody screamed as he raced over to Dark, tears starting to stream from his eyes. “She wasn’t supposed ta hit yeh.”[1]

“Darkling!” Wil knelt by Dark’s other side.

Brody began drawing up as much aura as he could muster as started trying to seep it into Dark’s battered body as carefully as he could so he didn’t worsen the damage. He looked up at Wil, “Make yerself fookin’ useful, will yeh Bubbles?”[2]

“Ohh, right,” Wil realized and placed his hands ever so gently on Dark’s chest, the touch gentle as the two of them began slowly seeping aura into Dark’s chest and tentatively their aura fused the horrid cracks up again.

The Entity’s souls, no longer screaming in agony, began to rouse again from their dazed state and Dark saw Wil and Brody leaning over him.

“Dark, sweet mother ‘a[3] Mary, yer[4] alive,” Brody gasped, setting his head on Dark’s chest as another round of sobs ripped their way out of his chest. “I thought yeh were gonna die.”[5]

The hunters all suddenly disappeared into a massive portal as a person in a long brown trench coat and blood stained bandages over his eyes. The blood from his bandages was starting to roll down his cheeks.

The entire group looked at this new Host, and the one who was still standing by Illinois.

“The fook[6]?” Marvin said, looking between the two Hosts.

The Dealer walked towards Dark, who was starting to settle in exhausted unconsciousness instead of imminent death, Wil looking up and frowned at the fact that he was now seeing double of one of his boys. Both he and Brody felt drained.

“Huh, I don’t recall getting drunk,” Wil commented.

“He’s not gonna[7] die, right?” Brody growled.

“Of course not, why would the Host want such a thing?” The Dealer scoffed. “The Entity should be fortunate that it will take another three years for the Guildmaster to amass that kind of magic again and by then the Entity will be more than fully recharged due to the vast empire he has accrued that he can get aura from.”

“Holy fuck, he’s still alive?”

J.J and Hearts appeared out of thin air.

Illinois and his siblings, except for the Host, braced for another attack.

“Hey, hey,” Hearts held his hands up in surrender. “We’re done, besides there’s no point in wearing the suits again now that Wilford’s alive.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bim demanded.

“Well, we,” Hearts began patting his pocket in confusion, before groaning and rolling his eyes. “Logan’s still got the video, awww, shit, we were gonna[7] use that.”

Hearts looked up at the beanstalk not too far from them. A huge sunflower platform starting to bud and flower at the top. “Hold up, we’ll get Tech Avery and the Hulking Croak down and we’ll do the whole spiel then, when we’re—”

The Suit dodged as Ethan came out of nowhere to try and punch Hearts in the face. Hearts deflecting or dodging most of the strikes.

“What did you do to my dog!” Ethan demanded in an angry fury. “Stop wearing my fucking face.”

Then one of Ethan’s fists phased through Hearts’s face before he completely disappeared. Then he was swiftly kicked in the back so he toppled forward onto his face.

“We’re done,” Hearts told Ethan, parts of him materializing first before others. “I can kick your ass, but I really don’t want to.”

“You’ve killed dozens of people already,” Ethan spat, “why stop now?”

“Well maybe I like existing,” Hearts told him, “you ever think of that?”

“Why would that matter?” Ethan demanded, picking himself back up.

“I can’t tell if you’re being obnoxious or just plain stupid,” Hearts rolled his eyes, and looked around.

J.J casually snapped his fingers and a magical barrier sprung up and a wall of red and gold magic hit it. “Right on time, it seems,” the false J.J smiled.

“Yeah, I’d hate to tell the story twice,” Hearts smiled. “Hey Princey, are the others with you?”

“Odious scoundrel!” Roman shouted. He was standing with all the other Sides. All of them in their superhero outfits. Other heroes and villains began showing up since they’d been called over by the cracking dome and the burst of magic.

J.J dissipated the barrier.

Nate let out a sigh of relief as he counted all seven Sides. None of them had tried to kill each other for power or to get more of themselves back. He’d need to have a long chat with all of them, but right now there were other things to worry about.

“Where is that face stealing monster?” Roman demanded.

“Seeing as I still have my face, I think we are merely dealing with imposters,” Logan explained.

“Logic, now is not the time for semantics,” Janus hissed.

Logan fell silent, but he was looking at the two Suits. Hearts smiled at him in return.

“Hey, glad to see you’re all still doing well,” Hearts still had a huge smile.

Janus hissed at him in fury at the same time Logan yelled out, “FALSEHOOD!”

“Yikes, but that’s a discussion to have with our Logan,” Hearts smiled.

“That was nothing like Logic!” Roman shouted. “How dare you?”

“Well yeah, he’s not our Logic yet, give him about fifteen years and he’ll get there,” Nestor explained. “We’re from the future.”

There was a beat of silence before Roman began laughing, pointing his sword down at them, “Your tricks will not fool me, thou cretinous wretched. Tell them Deceit.”

All the other Sides had already been looking at Janus, who was staring at the two doppelgängers in a mixture of shock and apprehension.

“Deceit,” Roman growled, “now is not the time to play devil’s advocate.”

“That would explain the nanite technology and the fact that they know who we are,” Logan reasoned, a pit forming in his gut. Because if that Logan had been capable of that much sadism and outright, malicious violence . . .

“No. No!” Roman spat angrily at Janus,. “We are not even considering this.”

“Wait you guys are even thinking of considering this?” Ethan shouted. “It’s absolute horseshit!”

“Deceit’s a living lie detector,” Illinois called out. “He just also happens to be a really good illusionist.”

“It’s true,” Joan pushed three way past Janus and Remus and jumped down from a piece of rubble.

“So they’re telling the truth?” Joan looked at Janus.

“Unfortunately, it seems so,” Janus answered through gritted teeth.

Heart looked over at Brody, “Come on, Chase, if we can’t cheat with Logan’s video, we gotta do it together. I only want to do this once a round.”

“I’m not fookin’ leavin’ him ta get shot again!”[8] Brody shouted. “I don’t care if Host says it’s clear or not. I didn’t put up with all this bullshite[9] ta[10] watch him die.”

“Come on, he’s literally in the middle of what amounts to an army of magic, he’s not going anywhere,” Hearts tried to reason.

“Leave it,” J.J told him, his voice still grainy with whatever was helping him speak. “We need to get Logan back and it’s best to have this farce dealt with sooner rather than later.”

“Fine,” Hearts let out a frustrated groan, before pointing to J.J and then Brody. “This is J.J he’s a tactical advisor. This is Brody, part time hit man, and fulltime emotional crutch for an unstable eldritch demon.”

“And I am the Police Commissioner of the Egoton PD,” Hearts introduced, gesturing to himself, CP Nestor flashed a badge on his wallet that was usually carried around by Abe and reached around and grabbed a disk at the back of his neck and handed it over to the Dealer. “I’ll spare my name since it makes younger me a bit antsy despite half of the league already knowing who we are and where you live because you’ve been playing hero since you were fourteen.”

“The hell, you’re not me, you’ve killed people,” Ethan argued.

“Trust me, we’ve been targeting people who have killed or at the single rumor of an order from their Guildmaster they would kill. I have killed far better people, and I’m not claiming we’re saints but we did this town a favor.”

“You could have just told us upfront,” Logan grumbled. “It would have saved us all this trouble and bloodshed.”

Hearts started letting out an amused chuckle, J.J and Brody were decidedly not laughing, “Oh that’s funny, and you always say you don’t have a sense of humor. Did you know that you always ask that, every single time? Nah, you see, we tried that. A lot. So we’ve just been trying whatever sticks.”

“This is the tenth reset,” Brody frowned. “Thanks ta the anomaly an’ J.J here, we’ve been able ta remember all ‘a ‘em so we could make changes as we needed.”[11]

“We had to remove your J.J this time around because he refused to help,” Diamonds explained. “Speaking of which.”

He stepped to the side and snapped his fingers, a bubble of distorted time rippled out and J.J tripped through. He looked confused and bewildered, until he saw future J.J and jumped up to attack him.

Then there was another ripple of time and both J.J were standing there, the real one looking furious as Diamonds just stared back. “See? No one’s died, you should have just trusted me from the start.”

J.J looked around at everyone and he froze when he saw Jackie, who was standing next to Chase.

“Jackie?” J.J gave a shaky sign as he took a couple steps forward. The mute hero then raced over and hit Jackie with a hug, he was shaking in relief.

“Hey, Jay, you okay now?” Jackie asked in concern.

J.J nodded and held onto Jackie even tighter.

Hearts had the wherewithal to wait for the moment to pass before he pointed up to the beanstalk, “And our Logic just peaced out up there. He motioned to the beanstalk. “He’s got the drive we need where we explain everything and have actual video evidence to prove it. So you all can either wait in here, or we can send someone up to get him.”

Roman looked up at the beanstalk, finally sheathing his sword. “Fine, besides, we have unfinished business with him.”

“Excellent the Core Sides will be able to accomplish the mission with little to no bloodshed,” the Dealer smiled.

“They good or should we send someone else?” Nestor asked J.J and the Dealer.

“The Core Sides should be fine,” the Host asked for the two of them. “The Sides should not worry, the Host will not allow the Suits to escape. Especially since there’s a town to clean up.”

“I’m going with them,” Nestor decided. “Someone needs to help power him down afterwards and he won’t let that happen if he thinks the other Sides are still in danger.”

That caused a little bit of an argument but after a while everyone came to an agreement. Core Sides would go up with Nestor to retrieve their Logan and Patton. The three Dark Sides would stay down with the others and help clean up or wait for Dark to recover.

Janus did walk over to the beanstalk with them, halting Logan a ways away to talk. Mostly to plan in case Nestor double crossed them.

“I’ll keep an eye on things down here,” Janus decided, a small albino python sliding out of his sleeve and moving towards Logan. The logical Side letting the serpent crawl up his body until it was delicately wrapped around his wrist and then turned into a bracelet.

“Are you certain that you do not wish to join us?” Logan asked.

“If I go up there, I will strangle him with my own hands,” Janus warned.

“Alright,” Logan responded in understanding and walked back towards the spot the other Core Sides were standing with Nestor. Roman set his hand on the tree-like stem of the beanstalk and a rounded elevator carriage made of woven plants and flowers.

“Is that even safe, Princey,” Virgil looked at the carriage nervously.

“Of course why wouldn’t it be?” Roman leaned against the carriage with a huge smile.

Virgil frowned, “Are you serious?”

After some magic from Patton they all got into the carriage and it started to move up. The ride was quiet for a bit as the carriage began moving up.

“Why are you even coming up, don’t you have a future to hover over?” Virgil spat. “We can’t be that important.”

Nestor frowned, leaning forward in his seat, “Hey look, I’ve regretted many, many of the things I’ve done in my life but the time I spent with you guys was not one of them.”

Nestor pointed to Logan, “You’re not our Logan yet, but even at this point I owe you a lot. You fixed my crappy homemade suit into something that would protect me. You and Silver and Jackie helped give me a structure while I was still in school and doing hero work. I still hold those days in a special place in my heart, and regardless of what happens next that won’t change. But even after I still owe Logan a lot for really helping me out. I might have mentioned it but this city hates me. Dark dropped the police department in my lap and basically told me: “keep order in my city, bitch” and walked off to keep looking for Wil. Logan was there to help me. He helped me when no one else did or could.”

“Sounds like hell,” Virgil commented.

“For five years it was,” Nestor told him, “a lot of people who didn’t need to die, died. Hunters were killing anyone they thought could be a demon vessel after they found out how many demons were actually in the city. And while all that was going on, I had to stand up in front of the news and try and keep the peace in a city that was turning itself inside out. My mission was to save as many people as I could, and if a couple scumbags who were going to kill children and people who have nothing to do with heroes or villains then who cares?”

Logan’s brain was already going to dangerous places. He could see a logical chain of events that brought the Side from where he was sitting in-between Patton and Virgil, to wherever Spade was in his life. It was a dangerous slippery slope.

His future self had already been telling him things. And if these doppelgängers were truly from the future then he had to acknowledge that his other self’s warnings were true. That Virgil and Roman had died. That Patton had been hurt and needed protecting. That Deceit had to be trusted when he couldn’t trust anyone else.

And that the hunters were to blame.

These thoughts swirled his head as he evaluated them:

Did Patton deserve to be attacked for things he could not control? No!

Did a young man who was barely old enough to drink deserve to have the metaphorical weight of a city dropped upon his shoulders and left to run the police force on his own? No!

Did the people who callously murdered Virgil deserve to be left to walk free . . .

Logan hesitated. Apparently most of those people were now dead before they could kill Virgil and others like him. They also hadn’t yet done anything.

Objectively his head spun with the paradox. Given the chance they would have killed him. But they were too dead to actually carry out the deed anymore. We’re they still guilty of the crime?

The logical Side’s battered heart cried “Yes” but now Logan couldn’t be sure that was his mind and heart deciding those things anymore.

His future self had clearly been trying to make Logan think and act like him. If not for Ethan and Chase, he would have succeeded.

“Not sure how much I should keep telling you, either way, Lo’s gonna be pissed,” Nestor shrugged as the flower car continued to take them up. “Logan works kinda with Google these days. Patton started going full demon and got scared so he worked with Dark for aura to help sooth Pat, and then he worked with Google and Bing for safety.”

“Because he’s inorganic?” Logan commented, roused from his rather venomous thoughts.

“Yeah took a good five years for Lo to want to work with him, Google had been making offers for a long time before that,” Nestor scratched some rubble out of the back of his scalp. “We were all going through a lot and I kinda lost track of him for a couple of years since we were all so busy. Then he just showed up in Dark’s office one day a glitchy and angry mess.”

“I fail to see how if you were genuine that we would turn your assistance down,” Logan grumbled.

“Yeah, we’ll you weren’t the difficult one,” Nestor scoffed, looking out the window in thought for a couple seconds before looking back. “Look, Lo’s really protective of Pat, so just be careful, okay? Pat’s been through a lot.”

“Our anger and frustration is with your Logan, not your Patton, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

The cart finally came to a stop at the top of the beanstalk and opened into a lush and verdant garden entryway. Beautiful petals and pastel colored insects fluttering in the breeze.

There were the light sounds of conversation that the Sides and Nestor could hear coming from the next room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. She wasn’t supposed to hit you

2. Make yourself fucking useful, will you Bubbles?

3. of

4. you’re

5. I thought you were going to die

6. Fuck

7. going to

8. I’m not fucking leaving him to get shot again!

9. bullshit

10. to

11. Thanks to the anomaly and J.J here, we’ve been able to remember all of them so we could make changes as we needed.

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rnbwrv · 4 years ago

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“The Sims 4″ Gamer Review 6/10

Hello everyone! This is Rainbow Raven Jezell (he/him) with the initial major post of this tumblr, the intro & 1st gamer review. I hope you enjoy!

Welcome to the Rainbow Rave, home of the Rainbow Raven streaming community based from my twitch, twitch.tv/rnbwrvnjezell. Here I will be doing amateur game reviews. I am by no means an expert or even an experienced gamer. All of these are my own opinions. I am writing with the primary audience of new or non-gamers in mind, those who are interested in getting started gaming in-general or in different game genres / platforms than they are used to. Ultimately my goal is to get you thinking about what you enjoy about games and whether the games I review are worth your time and money.

“The Sims 4” - 7 years after release, is the simmer dream still alive? …Eh yeah, if you believe in it enough- 6 out of 10 stars

[Disclaimer: I play and stream on the PS4. I have multiple packs and kits of different varieties, but I do not own them all. I have owned “The Sims 4” since 2018, and it is the primary sims game that I have played as well as my primary game overall. I stream Sims 4 on Twitch through console 2-3 times a week.]

Gameplay- I’ll be putting my reviews into 3 categories that mean the most to me. The 1st of which is “gameplay,” and I say “gameplay” for lack of a better word. What I mean is the overall experience of the game, such as the main activities, side quests, actions, and diversity of things to do in the game. Is it complex or simple? But most importantly, does its content engage with the player to pull them in? “The Sims 4” is a “sandbox game.” There are aspirations, worlds, careers, and families to engage with / build up. However, there is no “story mode.” And it might be controversial to say, but I give “The Sims 4” 3 out of 3 stars for gameplay. I never lack for activities or things to do in this game. You are only limited by your imagination. There are so many player-created challenges that can keep one occupied for years. I don’t see this as lack of gameplay in the sims. I see the open nature of the sims as it’s strongest point. For me, it is a storytelling device, and I keep coming back to the sims to create unique sims and narratives. I return to many other simmers / content creators on twitch + youtube to watch their stories / series as well.

Aesthetics- As all of these are subjective, aesthetics really are a personal preference. For me, I give “The Sims 4” 1.5 out of 3 stars for aesthetics. I like more realistic looking games personally. Overall, “The Sims 4” has a good look; the quirky nature and styles of the sims are realistic enough but campy in the right ways. However, it was knocked down in points due to the visuals not working often because of glitches and crashing. Top simmer news sites, other content creators, and myself can name multiple visual glitches that happen every time the game is played, breaking the emersion too much to avoid deceasing the quality of the game. Also, players with strong PCs can get custom content to make their sims look more realistic or more cartoon-like. Build and buy objects can also be downloaded, often for free or much less than EA sells “The Sims 4” DLCs. Custom content allows the game to become more personalized in gameplay and aesthetics. Sadly, a lot of PC high quality tech is needed to use this content plus console players, like myself, cannot get custom content at all. With a franchise as old and well-supported by a huge fan-base as the sims, the game should be fully playable and customizable for players of all ages (teen and up) on all platforms to enjoy the whole experience, running relatively-well.

Enjoyment- This is the hardest one to rate for me. “The Sims 4” offers a sandbox experience like no other out right out. I constantly play the sims and, for the most part, enjoy the experience. However, the experience is by no means smooth. I give “The Sims 4” 1.5 out of 3 for enjoyment. “The Sims 4” has a huge fanbase with tons of content creators + storytellers + modders that are constantly inventing new ways to play and improve the game. The blank slate of no story mode with the backdrop of the sims worlds allows a wonderful individual playground on your platform while connecting you to a community of lovely simmers. If you love the idea of creating your own sims and growing their grandkids up for generations, “The Sims 4” is for you. If you like the idea of being left alone to provide care or inflict chaos on your sims while also having a huge base of fan ideas for gameplay, give this game a shot! However, to the other side, if the past two sentences don’t intrigue you, there might not be much for you in the sims. There is no direction for how to play from the game itself and sims can feel generic on console without a lot of imagination. From a larger view, the enjoyment of the game is largely knocked down by the constant crashing and game-breaking bugs that frequently prevent the storytelling that players are tying to portray. The lack of response from the sims team is concerning. Some apologies and explanations have been posted, but it’s unrealistic to expect the average player to constantly be turning in save files for bug inspection when everyday gameplay is prevented due to those issues. Larger social justice issues like bad skin tones and hair textures for sims of color still linger while pronouns have finally made the “laundry list” too little too late in 2021. With DLC such as “The Sims 4: Knifty Knitting” less than a year old (July 2020) excluding non-binary sims + they/them pronouns, featuring “Lord and/or Lady of the Knits,” I fail to see the sims team living up to their proclamation of being super progressive in their support of the LGBTQIA+ community. Supporting a few LGBTQIA+ content creators and adding a trans flag to new trailers (Dream Home Decorator Game Pack, 2021) does not de-construct the gender binary in the game (language such as “boyfriend/girlfriend, male/female bodies, he/she” only pronouns). The sims team listens to some of the sims community, but whether it is EA or Maxis or something else that is blocking a deeper social justice dialogue is still unclear. Only time will tell if “The Sims 4” addresses the issues with an overhaul, but with leaders discussing 10-15 years of sims 4 while sims 5 is in process, I am not hopeful.

Overall - 6 out of 10 stars. “The Sims 4” is worth buying, especially if you’re new to the game and if the game is on sale. With 3 points for each above category (9 total), I leave a single point for myself to award games if I definitely recommend them. However, I stand by 6/10 for “The Sims 4.” The game offers an experience like no other main simulation title out there right now, but the lack of forward planning and game-improvement focus leaves many with unfulfilled dreams 7 years after release. Some of the packs are worth the time and money, but sims content for the sake of content is becoming unplayable due to bugs. I recommend buying the packs that intrigue if they go on sale while leaving out the rest. Spend your money on other games to experience, “The Sims 4” will likely be here for you to come back to with us simmers trekking along (hopefully not) decades later.

#thesims4 #game review #ps4 #thesims #the sims custom content #gaming #lgbtqia #Socialjustice #newgamer #twitch #streaming #smallstreamers #contentcreator #content creation

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rwmhunt · 4 years ago

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Leviticus, Chapter 22

1. Lo, for That I cannot prosecute my thoughts; I needst here cultivate caution- Then put a hold unto my options, That I cannot challenge him. Any source of information, That be of an admixture truth, And of an admixture untruth, is of a danger, Did you know that? Humbly needst I move toward diamonds and gold's Otherwise-useless demarkation on worth; My face must stay its specter in clay, For it is my career; That I can say: It is mine.

2. Thus, to Aaron, gold and diamonds Bringeth ignominy and unwarranted power; Strewth, they are only much use for The rings of your finger; So let alone the past, Which you mark As a messed up place, How then, is this the valid Strategy for the future? Lo, let us divide and game.

3. Increase the paywall; Holy things are ringing in changes; You are the visitor here- I'd like to take the time To consciously consider you so, for We have reached besmircher's cutoff. It's me, mark it; and Either I am a negative nebulae Of unimaginable everything, And you are a little golden bull, Or you are a negative nebulae Of unimaginable everything, And I am a little golden bull;

4. But know that I shall not give you the word For the thought-track down which You might draw the line Of asymetry, such, That you wouldst know How to rend a perfect opposition To go between. And whosoever soweth dead seeds Among young female researchers Hath faileth the épreuve- It shalln’t do for thy running issue, Moreover, those women who are of Quite senior position and are doing it Unto the coercive nature of such a power's New destruction of ability to focus, As unto the camp's commander, With how Peleg begat Reu; Well, it might be enough to get you pregnant, But wait, where am I going with this?

5. Worm touchers, Creepy pressers, Come, come, observers, Keep from that strange creature; Don't be giving unto me None of thy screaming abdabs; I think on you, Pig dressed as a clown, Eructing unto, then drawing forth A near-entire white, plastic fork; And know you not how this came to me- Lo, it came up with a sequence of items that appeared Not unlike balls of meat, Furred, wistfully, in a grey cowl of reactionary mucus; A kind of veil, a barrier, in effect, Penetratable, at any point, But equally real as a barrier, Gainst our otherwise passive environs, Such as be the diffusion of inert thoughts, or spores, murky, and maintaining of a human resource, I liked to thrill it- The direct and immediate livid relationship Between a font of funding and a media event, O, harmless dalliance of the stationary cupboard- You are knowingly walking, As against your will, A wrong into the carpet, Within the tent of meaning.

6. Looking up to see God's face in the moon, Or whatever it was That can't be drawn, And I won't be drawn; His hands he filled with moisture and His own was sent for ablution Into the improvised basin. So denieth all such allegation Through the washing of thy soule, Clean off; so sloughed away, Away with the diminishing liquid.

7. Sundown with the unseen Woman's leverage on the situation- if you should find a way to redress balance, So she gaineth a bit more power in some manner, Then so what? it was no loss. A new deal, And the bill shall embolden survivors.

8. Positions of power shall have of a hard time In recognizing the coercive nature of that power Within an unbridled relationship; Things that die 'Of themselves', Or are yet rent by nature's horn, Are defiled; while I, a malign influence, lie with my soul distracted; Oh lord, but I've been swallowed by narrative, And tried to keep it communal, Inside and outside; As you are.

9. Pit stop- The horror is the fact; The horror it unfolds Through legions of would-bes Without a meter, like me, Who have applied, Will apply, in perpetuity; Just do it, Or die; if then, As I am still.

10. The individual is always Hedging toward A private business model. Attention-seeking shalln't be of sin, no! Tis sensible, keep with a forward optioning- That's why i tell you, Soujerners and servents, Who art sent to the concession to collect me my messages- My tutu is a Fendi, And my codpiece is a Bosch. We live unto a roaring attention economy. But you're not up to it. I've given them a tomato one, And also I gave them a spaghetti- We struggle to attune to where I'm compelled- Ourselves, as groups, who feel of themselves As blunted against their lack in deserved attention, Because it is a powerful, a dangerous feeling.

11. So eat souls As paid for with a priest's money, On escrow, attention Has always been currency Though rendered unimaginable Since the falling-away of the gold-standard, As was borne unto the tent of meaning, Where every page has a piece carved out, To house an advert's grab For égards; No space is secure, For security hath put an advert thither.

12. Jade lock, To knock the donald offline, So unto a stranger, Gone off to scavenge, The framers that frame themselves As refuges for free-expression Shall be rent at the fringes, forcing A redirection, away from my personal kingdom.

13. But should she go prodigal, Whosoever you are, Howeverso you might express thyself, You may now have a crack at a global audience, With incentives and disproportionate benefits Offered unto the most shameless, The demand of each to pay what scarce attention Might be rendered unto others, To get some fraction of this nominally limited resource, As unto yourself alone. Such are these poor weapons, An oversharing, That, essayed to the personal, Stretcheth my nancy stories To breaking.

O Marigold, I was bad At that, in the territories of fandom, As forced to return Unto the track over and again- Such was my leaky comprehension; Only apparent to me in the afterward, And now, I cannot say I am better.

14. Whence, Enroute from the concession Shouldst be eaten of the item Without, thence, So anguished in the relish, Thou giveth a fifth Of the holy thing; So that the leg shall grow A starfish, whole . Then let us bend our dark tubers towards, And look the knot, as in at an eye-

15. What's gold and glitter, But to mock a toom, And maketh of myself A symbolic same, Wrought as an aesthetic echt; Where diplomacy is weak, The aesthetic be yet The sole portal unto The conveyance of meaning; Verily, here, that I keep within The aesthetic of thought Whereby action is always y, You are i, and The antagonist be markated x; Where holy might only Fall down to one's discretion, You should've known That I wouldst be so solid.

16. Or suffer them to bear the enquiry of trespass, Felt as an information glut, Whilst eating of their holy orders, Found relishing within the anguish, And those who want it, Want it as much as they can get it, And there is more access than can be vaunted, For, in an attention economy, one is never not on. Yes, me. O the guilt.

17. Attention is akin to the spirit; That it be vital but conventionally invisible, And thus, think not very much upon it, But unto whom, being unable to share A simple encounter with it, Wouldst soon become an artifice of torture.

18. Tell Aaron et al ensundry, To take up of stock with sarcastic markets, Sarcastic markets and I, impunity; The sacrifice of your own will I hand you freely; or no; T'was never yours to oblate, But sacrifice thy quasi-will, As will thee, Which is mine, against The short hedge, Thus maketh me of a currency exchange.

19. And an haut stud dost thou, unto me, weasels? By your whimsically free-will sacrificing? How charmingly lame. I sense Actors at play, in a very long game Of grooming the disaffected- Call me my boys in- then Send a lie to the long deceiver, To use the ruse, in turn, like poison, For to wish you that which upon may be Enabling unto the benefit of thine enemy.

20. It's no hambone, No hobbling billy- If he tells or interferes I'll fill the well in; its Prophets in stocks and neck-irons time, Else tolerate such increasingly radical agendas Of such gleefully uninhibited platforms as Where followers might laugh At biblical memes and opine such as- 'I'd rather do drama than a play, where, You can't say, really, What you want to say.' Go long, my cowhands, go long.

21. And peace is a sacrifice Of the streaming platform, while Attention has always been currency, Same. Our abilities to pay heed are limited; Not so our abilities to theoretically receive of it; No need to adequately substantiate If you can bamboozle With all the time in the world, Ka-pow-ka, ching-ching, da-da, Badoo-daboo-baday; Trust-modesty, yay, verily. Humility is hard to sustain In an attention economy. I only see me accelerating.

22. Blind, broken, maimed; Cankered, scurvied, wan with the wen, Thus, by my lights, The fault shall be displaced, Be it cleaned or weeping, Tis a no-no, get me another. Such was The schism that fractured the donald, Sent out to extend a tortured metaphor, Became too much of a liability To be held in high office- But if the stranger doesn't come, After all the things I’ve done for him,

23. Well, it's alright for a free-will offering Which you feel compelled to go along with, But it's not good enough for a vow offering As be brought unto online-influencer culture, And it might be enough to get you pregnant But it shan't be enough to stir my interest- I require an extreme case of humility, Whereby a person giveth his all to a presence so completely selfish As to serveth no other purpose. It's me.

24. But the reality is far less complicated than Moses, Hiding his damage behind a veil of linked-up back-channels, Recoiling at what his fellow hardcore moderators attempt to oblate; Too engrossed within the tents to consider anything outwith While hoping the whole doesn’t spin out of control.

25. Corruption is in them, strangers, Bethinks, flooding an affiliated image board So thoroughly that it becometh abomination. Here increaseth the shamelessness of wanton Allegation, terror co-option of a social platform, which struck with the rise of a reality magik-vision, Alike as came unto a mid-80s index of abundance, Shewn running away whilst attempting to make focus On the ever-deterioratingly indistinct Object of the distancing, that It’s only when, at stopping to think about it, That the understand can be ascertained as to quite how rife it is.

26. Here, he left a passing message for Those who might collectively commandeer: Abide by life; that, if, then, I wouldn't be here.

27. Debates about amplification And attention-hijacking form a Siege mentality Of the corrupted Federal Apparatus- For seven days beneath the dam, As then a fire spiralled further Toward a more outlandish means Of unconstitutional civic theatre,

28. Whereby a calfling must be made to last The night and know it's mother As having died before slaughter; So the community Moved in after it went dark, Enjoining, then modulating, then killing off, And now Your complexes are all cooked in, Deeply infringing upon the weirds of others.

29. So must you make sacrifice To your very free will, As to common patriotic causes, Or else be sieged Within the corrupt Federal Apparatus.

30. The fundamental thing is: You cant escape my attention economy; Eat everything now, For nothing shall be saved, And this same day shall be Until tomorrow; when again, it's me.

31. Lo, and you must; it's me, remember? But by now all this blood and all this law Was affecting them, as had long been within their dream, Where they have their own rules, quirks and cultures, Which they ignore at your peril; Where environments play out upon a knife-edge, And attention might simply be a lens Through which to read the events of the moment While running away.

32. Herein, power shall not be trusted To recognize affiliated abuses of power; Yet, check, however, before Redirecting such missives from my personal kingdom, For lo, there shall be nonesuch insubordination, As might mitigate against, for I shall be hallowed; Me me me me, So you;

33. Thus, I lay my notional claim Unto my servant-leadership- as bang, That brought you out of the land, Didn't it? Akhenaten to me. So Leviticus stood at The simply-inflated Size of Capitalism, To whom, hereto, On a bench they'd built Between themselves, Be here, thisway, is addressing- 'Imagine; You have been wrong For a long long time now.'

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spidxysense · 5 years ago

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Back to You | 10

Summary: He broke your heart, but you’d always love him. Two souls that not even the universe could tear apart, even if you wanted it to at times.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader x Timothee Chalamet

A/N: Happy 2020 everybody!!!!! Sorry I was MIA for a while! I decided to take the rest of 2019 to calm down, get some writing done and plan out and decide what I wanted to do with this series and I’m honestly so glad to say that I’m back with a rejuvenated and enthusiastic place to finish this fic! Sorry I didn’t tell anyone, but I thought it would be best to get away form tumblr for a while and the less time I spent on it the less I would feel guilty for not uploading. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, I had a hard time picturing the reunion so it was written then rewritten about a dozen times probably! I wouldn’t expect weekly updated on this either sine I am also rewriting anf reuploading an old fic of mine from another account, but I promise I’ll get this fic done too! As always send in your asks, and comments I love hearing from all of you!!

Word count: 3,676

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

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You had your eyes set on the road, tense, while the feeling in this car just screamed tension as you could feel Timothee's worried gaze looking over at you to the road and back at you only to repeat that cycle. You notice the slight twitch in his hand on the steering wheel as he keeps himself from grabbing your hand, the same one picking the skin off from the side of your fingernails again.

And before you could hear it, you see the smoke in the air, you were probably about 25 minutes away from the station and the whole time before then, you and Timothee had just been driving around, visiting your usual places to eat and hang around. It dawns on you while you two were sitting on the hood of the car, watching the sun go up, silent but comfortable, that this was your new familiar. It was no longer a lazy Sunday afternoons with Tessa, or a visit to the docks with Troye or Tom, it wasn't reading a book at the breakfast table while Tom read the newspaper or his script as he held and squeezed your hand from across the table. No. This was your new constant, Timothee, everyday it was him, and a part of you wished it would always be him, nevermind the role he played in your everyday life, as long as he was in it.

"You seriously need to calm down and breathe." He says ironically as he takes a deep breath himself, this somehow felt akin to when Tom first met your family. A shaking water bottle in front of your face takes you out of your thoughts and you can't help but laugh because Timothee was noticeably very nervous himself.

From the way you understood Timothee, he wasn't the type to really care what other people would think of him, but why for goodness sake did he care what Haz and Tom would think?

The car comes to a halt suddenly as he pulls over to the side. You lean over to look at the hood, expecting to see smoke, a sign God had given you two that maybe you two weren't meant to pick up the two from the station. But you're met with Timothee bent over, as he clutched his knees in desperation. You hurriedly step out yourself, gently placing your hand on his back but he slaps your hand away just as fast as when he got out of the car.

"No…" he heaves heavy breathes in between, "I can… I can do this." He tried to stand up straight only to go back to his bent over position and you knew just from seeing him what this was. Timothee was having a panic attack.

Timothee Trivia: He had panic attacks too.

But even when he pushed you away, you stood your ground, "No." You grab him by his sides, he was kneeling on the ground now, so you sit down and sit him down as well, setting him up straight, looking him straight in the eyes, "Look at me." You say with a steady voice.

He takes a few seconds but he manages to keep his eyes open, blinking back the tears from the painful choking feeling he must have in his throat, but he looks into your eyes nonetheless

"Breathe with me." You say as you inhale and exhale in deep breaths. He tries to mimic you, but he still has some trouble.

You bit your lip as he started to have trouble breathing again. You speak in a quiet voice, despite the train noises that would reach your ears every now and again, "When I was growing up, I used to trace the lines on my palms." You chuckle to yourself and you know Timothee wanted to snort in laughter, but all he could manage was a pained smile, "C-can you trace them?" You stare into his eyes, "Slowly, I’ll be here. You just focus on tracing them."

He nods silently with difficulty but looks at them, hands shaking as one traces and the other is held out, but you grab his wrist, stopping him, “Here.” You offer your hand, “You can trace mine. So it isn’t shakey.”

He points them out with his index finger, your hand wrapped securely around his wrist as he starts tracing. By the 17th line he traces, he's breathing normally again, his pupils no longer dilated.

It's a calm silence between the two of you, almost all of your quiet moments together a calm silence, as he keeps his head down, thinking.

"I'm sorry you had to witness...that." he calls it that with such disgust that it hurts even you, and you remember back then.

You were sitting in the closet, your first week of living with Tom and while putting away the laundry you felt it crawling up your spine. So you drop the basket and run up the stairs and into the closet, sitting at the very end behind the coats. You clutch your hands together and press it against your chest as you tried to get it to stop beating so fast, while trying to even out your breathing.

The door creaks slightly open, "Y/n? Sweetheart?"

This was a panic attack but it wasn't a severe one, you knew that much since you could still kind of focus on Tom when he pops his head into the closet.

You expect him to close the door when he finds you with your head to your knees and hands pressed against your chest, a common practice in your family, even for Troye, they'd leave you alone to handle it because they knew eventually, you could. And he does. But not before he steps inside. He sits next to you, but when you flinch, he opts to sit across from you as he watches you catching your breath slowly as you wring your hands together, calming down the excessive beating in your chest.

You lift your head slowly, looking up at him, eyes brimming with tears, "Sorry." You both say at the same time. He chuckles, letting you go first.

"I'm sorry…" you speak in a quiet voice, "That you had to see that. I can understand if this isn't what you imagined-"

"You're beautiful." He smiles calmly at you. He leans his head back against the wall as he lets out a sigh of relief, "I was so scared, I had no idea what to do!" He pounds on his chest slightly, "Any longer and I think I might've joined you." He laughs aloud, but the laughter dies down, a soft look on his face as he stares at you, tears streaming down you face and he brings himself closer, "I love you." He leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, as he synchronizes his breathing with yours.

"You're beautiful." You mumble softly as you stroke his cheek, knowing that when Tom told you that, everything felt at peace, someone finally accepted you. He looked a little shaken at first, but he relishes in the feeling, closing his eyes as he leaned his cheek into your hand.

He was just like you.

"It's heavy, right?" You smile sadly at him, he doesn't answer but you know he hears you, "It's heavy feeling all alone. Having to be you and all alone." He nods quietly, "I'm here." You say calmly, "I'm here with you. It'll become a lot lighter." You blink back the tears.

He was just like you.

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You two were standing at the station, albeit slightly awkward as a space between the two of you appeared ever since you two stepped onto the platform.

You clutched your right arm, your left arm across your torso as you kicked an invisible speck of dirt from the platform. Passengers started flooring the place as you hear loud calls of your name that has the two of you jumping in surprise.

"Y/N!!!" You see a pale hand from behind all the smoke, "Y/N! Over here!"

You walk towards the voice, and you stop when you come face to face with Tom, who had yet to see you and was pulling his cap down so nobody got a good look at his face. He turns his head, right in your direction and despite all the anxieties you had earlier, his face breaks out into a giant grin and he runs over to you, picking you up and spinning you around. It wasn't awkward. It would never be awkward with Tom, before all else he was your friend. Well he'd fight tooth and nail with you on that. To him, you were never his friend, he was always sure the two of you would be together. But to you, he was a friend first and this was exactly how it was between you two.

He sets you down, crossing his muscular arms across his chest, "Jesus, is Marvel making you lift weights even during the read throughs?" You laugh, poking his biceps, "Those has gotten bigger."

Tom shrugs, bashfully, but you and Haz both know he crossed his arms only for that purpose, even though it was a habit of his, you guide them towards Timothee, who still had his feet planted in the spot you left him in, "This is Timothee!" You introduce them. You were slightly nervous in introducing them.

Haz was no problem, he was a guy's guy. Very bro-like and could get along with anyone. Tom was more of a wildcard. You've never actually seen him get jealous but that was because you never gave him a reason to be, but now you were single and Timothee was definitely not just a friend.

Tom grabs Timothee's open hand first, Timothee chuckles nervously, "Quite a grip you got there." You look down at their hands, Timmy's hand going slightly red.

"Great to meet you man." Haz does that strange bro hug thing, "You've been taking care of Y/N here, yeah?"

Tom clears his throat, "So, how has it been here in Italy?"

You scratch the back of your head, "Well, Italy's Italy. It's freaking hot here."

You look over at Timothee, grinning over at Tom who wasn't paying any attention to him.

"Man, this is great. I'm meeting fucking Spiderman." This catches Tom's attention, "I almost got cast as him, you know."

"Huh." Tom chuckled, "What could have been, yeah?" He pulls along his suitcase as Timothee and Haz lead the way to the car.

Even though it was just some stupid thing he said, you can't help but believe there was something more the what Tom said, "And what cat got your tongue?" He pokes your cheek and you shake your head.

"No cat." You pull back his cap, "but your cap is distracting me." You laugh, "Literally nobody here will recognize you."

"I've been meaning to bring this up, but just haven't since we've been in a group till now, but is everything alright?" He grabs your wrist, bringing your hand closer to your face. Of course he'd notice. Tom always noticed, no matter how small. He saw you, and he always made a point to ask about it.

You smile to yourself, "There have been bad days." You sigh, "But nothing I can't handle."

"Without me?"

He doesn't look over at you, afraid of the answer that would come out of your mouth.

They place their baggage into the trunk. But you're still stuck in your head even when you're sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window. To a degree, you could understand how Tom was being and how he was feeling. He had questions. But he was never the type to force for amy of his questions to be answered if you didn't answer them yourself. It was almost like a guessing game if you weren't used to how Tom was. So whether he'd get the answers he seemed so desperate for on this trip was fully and completely in your court. Was that why he came here?

A soft graze on your shoulder brings you back from your thoughts. It was Timothee. You notice he didn't touch your hand this time.

He chuckles nervously, "Tom's been calling you for a while now." He keeps his eyes straight on the road.

You shake your head, laughing, completely fake, "Sorry! You know how I am, Tom." you look behind over at him from your seat.

He has his arms crossed in front of his chest, tense, his gaze was out the window but there was a sadness to his eyes and an irritation in the way his lips formed in a tight line, he laughs with you, fake as well, "Totally! Classic, Y/N. I swear if no one's around she'd walk into traffic." She chuckles, "In fact I remember during the last City of London Festival, I nearly lost you in the parade."

You giggle, remembering the whole thing. You'd seen a dog that strangely looked like Tessa so you followed it only to realize you lost Tom and that the dog wasn't Tessa. And you'd spent the morning looking for each other. Since it was such a huge parade there was no cell service, and Tom was in a panic because he was scared that the amount of people would trigger a panic attack. But knowing he was looking for you kept you grounded. Eventually you found each other at the Van Gogh section of the fair grounds because Tom remembered Van Gogh was your favorite. You remembered how tight he hugged you then, how you two could laugh about it now but Tom was practically sobbing when he found you, shaking and scared that if he didn't find you, someone would find you having an attack, something you told him you wanted to be kept an absolute secret. But all you remember feeling that day was like you found your way back home, you were never scared because Tom would always find you.

But now things were different. Tom still felt like home but at the same time he felt like a stranger in the skin of someone you used to know everything about.

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The car comes to a stop at a quaint hostel, they were apparently able to rent out two nights here, but knowing how charismatic Haz was it was definitely no surprise.

Timothee taps on the steering wheel, "Well, we've got a couple of scenes to shoot but hopefully by 6 we'll be finished since we're doing day shots today so we could probably have dinner."

Haz peeks into the car, having just taken their luggage out, Tom pulls them along to the entrance and slowly approaches the passenger seat, "Yeah sounds great, mate." Haz shuts the door, tapping Tom and motioning towards the hostel as if to say we'd be getting them checked in.

Tom had an arm on top of the car while he leaned down towards your window, "I'll see you later, alright?" His voice is soft and so are his eyes as he pleads that you follow through with your plans. He'd probably been sensing you'd make up some bullshit excuse not to see them that night. As sad as it may be, you never even thought of making excuses not to see Tom, not until this very moment at least.

You give him a reassuring smile, "Yeah, we have a lot to catch up on."

He nods silently, tapping the hood of the car twice before he lifts a hand to say goodbye to you, but nothing for Timothee.

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You were sat on one of those foldable chairs with your name on it as you watched what Luca said would be "usable" for the final cut when the seat next to you gets filled, "So, I was thinking Santorini."

You notice the lack of touching and the increased distance between the two of you as he leaned forward towards the screen but not towards you where the screen was closest.

You hum, "Santorini? You must be trying to impress then."

"Exactly who is Timothee trying to impress?" Luca's thick Italian accent fills the space between the two of you as his hands find purchase on the back of Timothy's chair, "Has he met someone? I do not approve."

Timothee gives Luca a look, "You KNOW it's not that." He sighed, "I'm just trying to-" he sighs again, pounding exasperated, "Tom Holland is in town and he just doesn't seem to like me. I'm just trying to get on his good side."

"Tom Holland? That brute of human muscle? Appeasing him should be easy enough like appeasing a dog-" Luca realizes exactly who he's insulting before sneaking a look at you, "I mean, he must be a sensitive soul, a humanitarian-I'm sorry, Y/N, you know where my loyalties lie." He shrugs.

You wave a hand, giggling, "It's fine really. When you really get to know him, he's a lot more than what he looks." You ponder for a minute, "But if you really want to impress him, he like wine and steak. He has a cigar every now and then and he likes places where you can go walking after eating."

Luca blinks, "Well, you won't find any worthwhile places here for steak, wine, there probably is, but I would recommend going out of town for this one, I'll have my assistant text you the details." He shoots Timothee a looks before scurrying away to talk with Armie.

_________________________________

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Timothee's nervously tapping on the steering wheel as you tried to figure out whether you chose the right destination that Waze was navigating yu towards.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Seems like it.” You notice the slight tremble in his fingers, and then it hits you all at once, the lights are in your eyes and the cameras are flashing against the windshield, “Fuck.” You muttered, “Luca said there would be more people here than the town we’re flming in but for fuck’s sake I didn’t expect this.”

The car comes to a stop in front of a fancy looking restaurant with a red stanchion and a red carpet leading to the entrance, “We’ll need to leave the car with valet, are you okay with stepping out with those people around?”

You sigh, “Well, we’ve got no choice, these guys aren’t leaving anytime soon and there’s nobody who would drive us to the back and take care of parking.” You shrug, taking a deep breath you open the door and then you’re bombarded with questions.

“Y/N! What are you doing at a restaurant like this with Timothee Chalamet?”

“Is there something brewing between the two of you?”

“Y/N, we saw Tom going inside a while ago, are you two on a date?”

“Have you two kissed and made up?”

“Who are you really on a date with tonight, Y/N?”

“Is this a date night? We have the two of you been this whole time?”

“Did Tom come to Italy to visit you on set?”

“You and Timothee look quite close, does Tom already know about this? What did he have to say?”

You feel an arm wrap around your back and instead of finding Timothee next to you with his arm secured around your back, it’s Tom, pushing past the paparazzi with one arm while the other was tucked behind your back all the while Timothee was still speaking with the valet, one of them apparently asking for pictures and autographs.

Tom slouches, leaning his head closer to yours as his hand grips your arm reassuringly, “I heard a commotion outside, and I thought it would be you.”

You appreciate the hold he has on you but you try to get it to soften up even if just a bit, “Well knowing these guys they’ll make some bullshit article about how we’re here on a date and we’re getting back together so maybe ease up a bit on your grip.”

You two step inside, Timothee following closely behind, Tom faces him and holds out a hand, “Thanks for getting Y/N here in one piece.” He finally shoots Timothee a smile, “And really, thank you for looking out for her this whole time. I can’t tell you how worried I’ve been about how Y/N was managing here, but she seems to be doing alright thanks to you and Armie.”

Timothee’s smile is practically glowing as he reaches over to grab Tom’s hand and shake it enthusiastically. While the two of them are chatting by the front desk, you walk over to the table where Haz was sat all alone, “I take it you had a talk with Tom?” You snort.

He sighs, “Yeah, it wasn’t an easy conversation but he came around soon enough. I told him you wouldn’t want him fighting with a close friend of yours and he eventually calmed down.”

“The crowd out there was crazy, I honestly thought Italy was a pretty quiet place but it’s pretty bad.”

He shrugs, “Well you three are pretty up and coming, especially since we’re with Tom, the current Spiderman and Timothee who’s certainly been making headlines lately, then add you to the mix and it’s even bigger.”

Haz flags down a waiter making his rounds around the dining area, “Hey man, sorry about this but if it’s not too much trouble, could you maybe handle the crowd outside, my friend has problems with her anxiety and getting rid of them would be a lot of help.”

The waiter nodded calmly before proceeding out the front to ward off the photographers as Tom and Timothee come to sit at the table, Tom’s face unreadable with his mouth set in a thin line and his eyebrows coming together approaching the table seriously as Timothee looks like he’s optimistic about the night.

Timothee clasps his hands together, “How about we get this dinner started then?”

#tom holland #I AM BACK!!!!#back to you #spidxysense #Timothee Chalamet #tom holland fic #endgame was so good #tom x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland au #TOM!#timothee x reader #timothee fanfic

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atelophobicity · 4 years ago

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Top 10 Things You Shouldn’t Do If You Want to Finish Your Thesis On Time

It’s my entry for September! I’ve been busy in consuming new music, films, and kvariety episodes in my effort to catch up on everything. So, I decided to post monthly to fulfill my oversharing Tumblr needs and to exercise my skills in writing in English and putting thoughts into coherent words.

TL;DR of this: things I’ve done instead of doing my thesis for the past year and a half. I’m not romanticizing my not doing thesis self for the past 21 months, but I’m also not dissuading you from doing other stuff besides thesis because god knows, you will need something.

1. Got a part-time job. This was the first new thing I’ve done that really took my time and effectively gave me no time to do thesis. And yet, this was the most rewarding thing as I learned how to get my TIN, accomplish my deliverables, answer to my superiors etc. Looking back, I wasn’t the best employee and I deserved no job offers on the same company after. But still, it was a stepping stone in the right direction. Adulting-wise, anyway.

2. Discover the art of creating.

Journal spreads. I bought a 2019 planner and I couldn’t fill it up, so I decided to turn it into a journal-planner. The art materials I used for to design pages are from old supplies bought back when I was in high school or stickers from the fandom-related events I attended. I didn’t spend money and I was given a chance to be creative.

Sew doll clothes. In K-pop, dolls that look like your idol exists. It usually comes with one set of clothes to dress it. As a “doll mother”, I wanted to dress them with new clothes but buying clothes was expensive. So, I just sewed clothes for them. I made clothes from scrap fabrics or clothes no one wears in our household. I’ve been barely successful, but it’s one of the things that keep me happy and make me feel like I’ve succeeded in one measly part of my life.

3. Purged my online files.

From my high school files. Nostalgia has been one of my coping mechanisms. I was able to be provided by lots of it when I discovered that I didn’t lose my high school files and it was on my mom’s laptop all along. Being able to relive memories while organizing my files was the best hours of that day.

To my external hard drives. Since 2016, I have been a hoarder of online files for so long that I have two EHDs to prove it. This time though, I was able to delete content that was either repetitive or uninteresting anymore. I was able to shave off some of my data bytes and am now able to save new interesting content available online (if I ever find one).

4. Realigned my priorities and consumption of K-pop as a stan and as a person by:

Selling 3/4 of my merch. Unlearning the pride that comes with owning K-pop merch was difficult, but overtime, I have been proud of myself for not falling to the traps of capitalism—at least in K-pop. Also! I was able to buy my own concert tickets with the stuff I sold so it is a win!

Joining giveaways instead. No matter how I can avoid the urge to buy K-pop merch, I still can’t help but want to own them. This is where I discovered how joining giveaways was my next best option. It takes a lot of effort and screenshots to win these things. However, if and when you win, it really feels like winning against the odds. You get free merch too!

Actually spent hours to vote and stream. In relation to the last point, since the main requirement in giveaways I’ve joined are voting/streaming proofs, I have been one of those people who collects points on voting apps or has a playlist of music videos that should be streamed. After collecting and/or streaming, I take screenshots, put watermarks there, and tags mutuals if needed. It’s relatively hard work but there’s a feeling of pride when your idol wins the poll or an MV reaches a certain amount of views and you know you participated in making that happen.

5. Rediscover Youtube. Channels like the vlogbrothers and their associates (Crash Course, Pemberley Digital among others), Buzzfeed’s shows (The Try Guys, Ladylike, Buzzfeed Unsolved) were a delight to watch after being out of the Youtube loop for so long. The platform also offered new niches of content and I allowed myself to be sucked in it. From Simply Nailogical to Ask A Mortician to amazing pop culture video essays like Lindsay Ellis and Jenny Nicholson, Youtube has all it for you! Learning something new every day is one of my favorite things and I get to do it with this website.

6. Rediscover my love of writing. (As if I’ve written anything for my thesis but here.)

Made drabbles. There is a weekly activity on my fandom where we write < 500 word drabbles on any pairings. I have been joining when I can, and through the support of the (small) community (back then), I gained confidence to write one. I’ve written at least four now and I’ve not done yet because I’ve been on a slump lately. But I’ll get back to it soon!

Short story. The same account that brought the drabble challenge created a festival where we write a pairing and write a short story with it. I decided to join the event! Not going to lie, my entry was shit, It was the first draft, it needed a lot of revisions and more constructive criticism and yet, I am still proud of it. It was the first creative fiction I wrote since 2019 and I did it in a day. And, I believe it has potential, so I’m going to review and revise the hell out of it someday.

7. Reclaim my college days.

Reconnected with orgmates. Visiting Elbi for registration and consultation purposes are brightened up by the fact that I get to do this. My first four years of college were not kind to me. I’ve forgotten a lot of things because of trauma and deep sadness that I still have until this day, and when I remember good things, they’re few and far in between. The numbered days I was in Elbi during 2019 were also few and far in between, but they were infinitely better than my academic years from 2015 to 2017. I was able to do the things I wasn’t able to do before (mostly attending Happy Ts and eating in newly-opened food places there) and I get to do it with people I love.

Made friends. One of the drawbacks of being a slot-driven student with no care of my coursemates’ schedules: I didn’t get to establish a friend group. So I didn’t get to make friends. During this time, I’ve accepted that I didn’t have any friends outside my organizations. But this time, instead of a feeling of dread of being that cliché orgmate, I feel relief and happiness because now, I realize that I do have friends from college, unlike the 2015-2017 who didn’t have anyone in college to rely on her darkest times.

8. Appreciated my friends more. For the past few years, I was the shitty friend. I agreed to go on hangouts only to message them that I’m backing out the last minute—sometimes I even straight up ghosted them. I really took my friends for granted. I have been slowly making it up to them by always attending when there’s an invite! I sometimes initiate the invite and it’s always a fun and healing time for me (it was a literal healing time for me as I was depressed during that time). I love them and I’m always thankful for them—and more so now than before.

9. Unlearning things like:

Realizing that a priv (a private account meant to be seen by your mutuals you trust; usually contains unpopular opinions and hot takes on stan twitter) only encourages negative emotions and I must not do it again.

No matter how I tried rationalizing my hate for Jennie when the JenKai dating news happened, I was one of those K-pop stans who hated her because she dated my idol. (I have moved on past that and have started liking her and Rose.)

Knowing that attacking people for what they say won’t make them unlearn their wrong opinions. Not talking down at them and educating with patience is the key, always.

There are still so much more I unlearned and learned where those came from. My main takeaway is: it’s complicated. Sometimes our opinion needs a more nuanced perspective and sometimes it needs to scrapped entirely because it was just wrong. But it is essential so we, as people, won’t be stuck with outdated views of the world.

10. Learning something new like:

Practicing how to do Tzuyu’s helicopter hands until I realized it wasn’t meant for me.

Utilizing Omegle to look for potential quaranflings.

Installing Telegram and uninstalling to ghost quaranflings.

How to do laundry in compliance with my mother’s preferences.

Doing two things at once.

Enough patience to take time and read the laws our government makes every day to know what I’m fighting against.

Optimizing my Twitter lists and now I can keep up with current affairs (that takes a toll on my mental health) then scroll through a fic fest-centric list the next (that helps me forget the stress from reading news).

Learning something new every day has become one of my life goals. Knowing that the world always has something new to offer to me, a speck in this universe, warms me up and keeps me going. And you’ll never know where the new tidbits will lead you. Maybe it’ll help you reconnect with something you’ve known before, maybe it’ll change how you see things, or maybe it’s something new that once explored, it will contribute something new to the community. It may seem small and unimportant but with a tweak in perspective, it might be something worth doing and pursuing.

Looking back at my list, I can finally see how if I didn’t do all these things, I would have probably finished my thesis by now and probably working a full-time job, able to provide the financial needs for my family. There will always be regret that I am still not done until now. But stressing over my current predicament in this time when the world is in its most stressful state yet won’t help me. So, we soldier on and hopefully, hopefully get back to the thesis I’ve been meaning to do.

Let’s get it.

#2020 diary

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watchfreemovies2020-blog · 5 years ago

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Yesmovies

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